His Soul is Marching On to Another World; or, the John Brown Isekai

28th of Summer, 5859

Yellowclover Village, Outskirts of the City of Casamonu

Having slept in caves, mud huts and the great outdoors, the simple wool bedding courtesy of Shinasi Sr. felt like the clouds of Heaven for everyone involved. Brown’s back wasn’t aching for the first time in three months, Ayomide didn’t mutter a few curses while waking up and Shinasi… He hadn’t managed to get sleep as he was too busy catching up with his family during the night. There wasn’t much ado in a small village like this, most of the talk was either acquaintances getting married, dying from disease, or a new child being born. This standard fare provided a feeling of normality which had been lacking in Shinasi’s life since he had joined an abolitionist group locked in the mountains. Of course, he didn’t mention his new occupation to his family; Shinasi didn’t want his father having a heart attack.

Signaling the beginning of this new day was the cry of a rooster, a shriek cry from the neighbor’s errant rooster who loved to cry before the sun even rose up. Brown, in his newly awaken state, thought that he should hire this rooster to help fix the sleep schedules of everyone in Libertycave. Brown slowly got up from his bed, which woke up the neighboring Ayomide as well. She reluctantly raised her head to see that the sun hadn’t even properly shown its face. Regardless of her desire to go back to sleep, Brown had already woken up. The old man wouldn’t let anyone not be “healthy, wealthy and wise” if he could help it, the problem being that his standards for earliness were far too strict for the people of Gemeinplatz.

“Good morning, young lady. It is good to see that you have risen early.”

“Yeah, yeah...” Ayomide could barely see Brown with her half-closed eyes. “Yawn. Are we going already?” This bedding is too good to leave…

“I hope you don’t think of me as an idler.” Brown graciously helped Ayomide by quickly lifting her sheet up. No option was left for Ayomide but to wake up now. The old man had won the battle for sleep once more, on two fronts. First, he had woken up Ayomide. Secondly, the commotion created by waking her up had caused Shinasi to wake up. He made his presence known by peeking through the door to the only other room in the house.

“Old man…” Shinasi’s hair was messy. Some may think that he had a case of bedhead, but his usual hairstyle looked indistinguishable from bedhead with spikes of hair extending in all four cardinal directions simultaneously. “…for the love of what you call hallow, the sun’s barely up!”

“The Devil does not sleep, young man.” Brown had already worn his coat and knapsack. He was ready to march on. “Neither should we if we wish to keep up with his countless machinations.”

“Old man, I’ve seen a couple devils in the dungeons.” Shinasi was getting ready to go out despite readying a comeback. “They do sleep.” After getting his gear ready he splashed some water on to his face from a water basin. He shuddered as the water had gone cold during the night.

“Jacob slept plenty as well. Neither was that living sack of rotting taters clever enough to make any machinations.” Ayomide joined in washing her face, going further beyond by also cleaning grime off her hands with Brown-made slime soap. “I think you don’t need to be concerned of devils.”

Brown didn’t exactly want to mention the name of Satan any further, so he avoided evangelizing about this topic any further. The only bad thing about leaving early was that he was unable to say farewell to his hosts. He left a few bars of soap (that he had been carrying around in case of emergencies) on the table as a gift of gratitude.

“Are you all ready to go?” Ayomide and Shinasi both nodded in response. “Then, may our Heavenly Father protect us, let us set off!”

28th of Summer, 5859

Casamonu, County of Casamonu

Casamonu. A grand and ancient city, established several millennia ago before the Empire of Gemeinplatz had ever been born. The city itself is surrounded by ruins of other Casamonus who have failed to survive the test of time not to mention the invisible ruins which have been buried under the earth long ago. No matter who has built or ruled it over the long years, one thing that has never changed about Casamonu is caravans filled with copper passing its gates to conduct business with craftsmen in the city. Such important gates require excellent protection, and excellent protection requires experienced guards.

Unfortunately, experienced guards require money. Money that the county couldn’t afford to spare for some men to stand around all day checking a gate.

“So, what’re you doing this weekend?” Billy (whose real name was Bilaleddin) was the quintessential guard recruit. A simple helmet, an even simpler sword, and the simplest wooden shield known to man were all that protected him. Like all his comrades he wore a bright yellow vest with the words “Casamonu Customs” written in several languages. All who joined the guard had to provide all this equipment themselves. The pay was mediocre but the job was easy enough that people did invest in equipment to join the gate guard.

“This weekend? I take it that you haven’t been here for long?” Bob (whose real name was Boron) was the quintessential guard veteran. A simple helmet, an even simpler sword, and the simplest wooden shield known to man were all that protected him just like his green comrade-in-arms standing next to him.

“What do you mean?” As far as Billy knew they were supposed to have one day of vacation.

“Don’t you know the life expectancy of a guard here?”

“No. How long is it?”

“I’d reckon it to be about thirty seconds.”

Billy was shaken and stirred. “Thirty seconds? They didn't tell that to me when I signed up!” He looked at his measly armor and armaments. It was truly a sorry sight for poor Billy. He watched as the line waiting to go through the gate went forwards. Clad in full plate armor colored deep black, carrying an equally black zweihander, was an adventurer who terrified Billy. The black knight seemed to be the sort who’d cut him down then and there.

“Papers please.” The man in black obliged as he handed his papers over to Bob. A portly woman next to the black knight whose witch hat which seemed to reach for the heavens with its height did the same as well. Bob smiled at the black knight while handing the papers back. “Sorry for the delay honorable sir.”

Billy breathed a sigh of relief when the edgy knight left his sight. “Phew. I thought that my 30 seconds were up…”

“Huh? You took my words seriously?” Bob’s boisterous laugh echoed throughout the entirety of Casamonu. He patted the back of the recruit, trying to regain his breath. “I was just joking, boy. The job at the gate is the most secure job you can get as a guard in any city.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Yes. There are no monsters near the city, you know. Some poor sods get assigned to the watchtowers in the outskirts where they get napped by the weaponnappers.” Bob couldn’t help but laugh again, there wasn’t actually anything that funny about the situation but he was desperate for some fun having stood on the same spot for the last twenty years. “Count yourself lucky, boy. Most people that pass here are the respectable sort, like the Sir Black Knight you just saw enter.”

“Understood, sir.”

Bob had been simultaneously checking the papers of everyone while conversing. Thankfully there was no caravans passing by at that moment, which meant he didn’t need to pause to check their goods. He was so good at his job that people would understand that they needed to hand papers the moment his gaze landed upon them. They’d also pay the appropriate toll without complaint, which was mostly thanks to Bob’s bulky and intimidating build. Had there been LitRPG mechanics in Gemeinplatz, Bob would have definitely become a level 99 customs officer.

Other than his ability to efficiently process papers, Bob had also gained another ability with his years of experience: the ability to efficiently sus people out. He claimed he could easily differentiate the ne’er-do-wells from the e’er-do-wells just from how they acted while approaching the gate. The veteran customs guard was always on guard, always vigilant while scanning every passerby.

Bob was still keeping his guard when an unnoticeable party appeared before him. An armed young man with unkempt hair, a tall old gentleman with a magnificent beard and a stout catgirl with ginger hair. The old man exuded an aura confidence that Bob liked, the adventurer seemed to be just doing his job and the catgirl’s eyes were travelling between them all in a nervous fashion. Confidence was good: criminals weren’t exactly going to be at ease while showing forged documents. The only outlier was the slave, who Bob concluded must have newly fallen into her unfortunate situation considering she hadn’t adapted. The second thing Bob liked was that the adventurer handed him his identification (a bronze badge containing personal information) without him having to ask.

Bob quickly whizzed through the identification, one belonging to the Adventurer’s Guild of Casamonu, as he had nothing to suspect about with the upstanding gentlemen who were standing in front of him. The guild would pay for the adventurer’s toll, so he handed the badge without asking where his well-deserved toll was. Normally Bob would have to ask the old gentleman for identification as well, both for himself and what looked to be his slave, but he decided to not make the man pointlessly wait. He looked to be a good chap, a kind old man who had hired the young adventurer in front of him for protection… or so Bob made up a story for his guests as he tended to do.

Bob waved his hand towards the gate. “You may pass, sir.” He let the group pass, immediately forgetting about them when the next group needed to be checked. Having seen thousands of faces, they all tended to blend together after a while for a veteran customs guard like him.

Like so Bob’s and Billy’s day marched on, without any trouble. They did their job perfectly, making sure that no one with malicious intent passed through the gates of Casamonu.