IBMAW 13

Chapter 13

Flint

Juhwan had been planning to roughly hang the wolf hide in the storage shed. But before he could do that, Liz spread it out neatly inside the house. It seemed she intended to dry it indoors.

He wondered why, considering the strong smell, but as he watched Liz gently stroking the wolf fur as if it were a treasure, he understood.

‘Ah… this is a very valuable asset to her.’

To her, this wolf hide was something precious—something that must not be lost. Even though they lived deep in the mountains with no one nearby, she valued it too much to leave it in the storage.

He didn’t know much about the life she had lived, but it must have been extremely difficult. Watching her repeatedly touch the fur with such care, he could somewhat imagine her past.

Occasionally, Dorothy would come over to Liz and look at the wolf hide together with her.

Perhaps fascinated by the shriveled wolf face with nothing inside, Dorothy kept poking its nose with her finger. Then Liz would poke it too. Juhwan didn’t understand what was so amusing, but both of them seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Sometimes, Liz would lift the hide and examine it with a thoughtful expression, or groan softly as if troubled. It seemed she knew the hide needed further processing but didn’t know how to do it.

‘Well… we’ll figure that out eventually.’

Even if they couldn’t sell it, they could still use it at home. It wasn’t like it would be completely useless without proper treatment.

After laying out the hide, Liz began salting the wolf meat.

As she worked, she occasionally glanced at the fat with a pleased expression. Juhwan had kept it thinking it might be useful, and it seemed that had been the right decision.

There wasn’t much salt left in their bundle. After preserving the meat, there probably wouldn’t be much remaining. It might be fine since it was cold now, but it would have been a problem in warmer weather.

‘There’s so much I need to learn… so much to do.’

What counted as wealth, how to trade and obtain goods—he wanted to learn these things as quickly as possible.

While Liz salted the meat, Dorothy busily moved around the house, putting items from the bundle back in their proper places with her small body.

Each time she completed a task, she would go to Liz to receive praise. Watching the two of them for a moment, Juhwan smiled before standing up.

Seeing him rise, Liz hurried over in surprise.

“## ####.”

With a worried expression, she pointed at his left arm and shook her head, as if telling him to rest because of his injury.

But there was too much to do. He couldn’t afford to rest.

“I’m fine. After resting a bit, it doesn’t hurt much anymore.”

As he said that and lightly touched his cheek, Liz shook her head vigorously, signaling that it wasn’t okay. Despite the language barrier, she seemed to understand his meaning.

Still, he really was fine. It wasn’t that it didn’t hurt at all, but ever since the mysterious flames had died down, the wound had stopped bleeding and seemed to have healed to some extent. The torn surface had already dried, so it likely wouldn’t worsen.

Leaving the worried Liz behind, Juhwan stepped outside.

The house was currently freezing. Even with layers of clothing, it was cold—if night came like this, they might actually freeze inside.

Juhwan went into the nearby forest and gathered thick, dry-looking branches, bringing them back in front of the house.

There was a large flat log outside. Placing branches on top, he struck them with an axe. The wood split easily.

He had thought fallen branches in a mountain like this would all be collected by people, but there were plenty scattered around.

Perhaps the villagers didn’t venture this deep into the forest. Near the entrance, maybe—but not this far inside.

It reminded him of how, in Korea, excessive firewood collection had once turned mountains barren. Compared to that, this situation felt strange.

Still, seeing a chopping log here suggested that the previous forester had used trees for firewood.

Maybe the villagers had taken all the firewood from the storage because they themselves weren’t allowed to cut trees.

Perhaps only the forester was permitted to use the forest, and for villagers, cutting trees here was taboo.

‘Feels like there’s a catch…’

They gave him a house, women, and supplies to survive. They even provided a teacher to teach him hunting.

Even to someone unfamiliar with this world, it seemed far too generous.

This wasn’t something you’d expect from a poor village desperate enough to steal everything from someone’s home.

The fact that they gave all this to an outsider—someone who even came with slaves—meant there had to be something behind it. There was no such thing as a free lunch.

Juhwan scoffed.

Even so, it didn’t matter.

If being a forester was the reason Liz and Dorothy were given to him, then he didn’t care if it was a trap. Whatever came, he would overcome it and protect them.

“….”

Of course, if things became truly dangerous, he would drop everything and run away with his family.

As he gathered wood, Juhwan kept an eye out for trees suitable for firewood.

He avoided trees that were too large. He had no confidence in felling massive trees with an axe right away. Until he gained experience, something moderately sized would be better.

Still, it wasn’t easy. Not only was it hard to find the right size, but he also couldn’t tell which types of wood burned well or produced less smoke.

He had heard that oak was good firewood—but honestly, he didn’t know what oak looked like.

He vaguely remembered that trees with acorns were oak, but that didn’t help in winter when there were no acorns.

With leaves gone, all the trees in the winter forest looked similar.

After wandering around, crunching dry leaves underfoot, he eventually gave up on finding oak and chose a reasonably sized tree.

It was about the right thickness to split into quarters. About three times a person’s height, with thick branches extending outward.

It was tall, but compared to other trees, relatively short. The surrounding trees were enormous, towering like something from a giant’s land—nothing like what he had seen on Earth.

Juhwan untied the axe from his waist and began chopping at the base.

He thought it would be easy given his strength, but it was harder than expected.

The wood was tough, and his technique was lacking. Unlike in movies, where axes struck cleanly and came back out, his axe often got stuck in the trunk.

Pulling it out made him worry the blade might come loose from the handle.

After several failed attempts, he gradually adjusted his technique and learned how to strike properly so the axe wouldn’t get stuck.

Soon, the tree was covered in axe marks like missing teeth. When he pushed it with force, it creaked and tilted.

But it didn’t fall completely. He had been chopping from only one side. After striking from the opposite side, the tree finally fell.

He cut down another nearby tree. This time, it was easier.

He chopped from multiple angles, circling around the trunk. Unlike the first tree, which had broken unevenly, this one fell cleanly.

He cut the fallen trees into pieces and carried them back to the house in several trips.

After bringing everything, he placed the wood on the chopping block and split it into firewood.

Each strike sent pieces flying in all directions. It was harder than cutting branches.

He had thought such simple labor would be easy—but it was several times harder than fighting.

His left arm throbbed painfully, and unfamiliar muscles in his back, neck, and shoulders ached.

At this rate, sleeping tonight might be difficult.

When he returned inside, Liz had finished preparing the wolf meat and was organizing other supplies. There were several unfamiliar items.

“### ##.”

Seeing him, Liz hurried over. She checked his injured arm, looked relieved, then rushed off again and came back with a damp cloth.

“Thank you.”

Using the word he had learned earlier, Juhwan thanked her as he reached for it.

But Liz pulled the cloth back and gestured for him to lower himself.

When Juhwan sat down, Liz gently wiped his face, neck, and arms. Then, in a shy voice, she said:

“#### 고마워#, ##.”

Dorothy, who had been helping organize, ran over and dabbed her hands in water before smearing it all over Juhwan’s face. She seemed to be helping—but actually made him dirtier.

Liz giggled and wiped his face again.

Dorothy looked at him expectantly.

“Dorothy, thank you.”

When Juhwan said that, Dorothy beamed and smeared more dirty water on his face.

Liz laughed, and Juhwan laughed along with her. Soon, Dorothy burst into laughter too.

After a moment like that, Juhwan carried the firewood to the center of the house.

He wasn’t sure if all houses in this era were like this, but this one had no fireplace. Instead, there was a hearth in the middle.

The floor was reinforced, surrounded by bricks to contain the fire.

Above it, a thick iron rod stretched across, with hooks for hanging pots.

There was no chimney—just an opening in the high ceiling for smoke to escape. But he wondered what they would do when it rained.

After cleaning out the ashes with a shovel, Juhwan arranged the firewood.

Only then did he realize—he had no fire.

He had wood, but nothing to ignite it.

Panicking, Liz brought a leather pouch.

Inside were a C-shaped piece of metal, a stone resembling marble, and shredded bark fibers.

She handed them to him, but he didn’t understand.

Seeing his confusion, Liz demonstrated.

She struck the metal against the stone. Sparks flew.

After a while, the bark began to smoke.

Only then did Juhwan realize—it was flint.

He had always thought it involved striking two stones together. He hadn’t expected metal.

Liz carefully fanned the ember, transferring the flame to straw.

Only after quite some time did the fire finally catch on the firewood.