Seasons had come and gone.
Spring had returned to the forests of Britain, but an ominous tension still lingered around Ector’s cabin.
Six-year-old Kay.
Over the past year, he had changed significantly. Hardened by countless hunts, he possessed a muscular build that was hard to believe belonged to a six-year-old. And such a boy...
"Food! Food! Food!"
"Meat! Meat! Meat!"
He spent his days feeding eight baby beasts.
The children had already mastered walking and had begun to run. It was nonsensical for their age, but then again, they possessed a bloodline of a different caliber.
As their activity levels rose, their appetites grew exponentially. A single bear lasting two days? That was a distant dream now. These days, they polished off a bear in a single day without breaking a sweat.
"Food expenses... food expenses..."
With hollow eyes, Kay muttered to himself as he wandered through the woods.
Since Ector was living and working at the forge full-time to earn money, the daytime hunting and childcare fell entirely on Kay's shoulders.
In his hand was a dilapidated sword. The blade was so worn and chipped that it was practically a club.
A new weapon? He couldn't afford one; any spare funds had to be sold for survival.
It was then—
A grotesque cry echoed from a clearing in the woods.
Cock-a-doodle-doooo!!
A thunderous roar that shook the very heavens and earth.
Kay’s eyes snapped wide. That sound could only belong to a Bopal Chicken—the infamous Murderous Fighting Rooster.
Two meters tall, with a beak like steel and a kick capable of shattering boulders, it was a monstrous avian.
But to Kay, it looked like nothing more than an oversized piece of poultry.
"Chicken... today's a chicken party. Big brother will bring home some takeout—provided I survive."
Kay swallowed hard and pushed through the dense brush.
In the center of the clearing stood a giant rooster, its red comb worn like a medal of honor. Its eyes gleamed with ferocity, and its leg muscles were as thick and solid as tree trunks.
"Hey, birdbrain!"
Kay called out.
The rooster turned its head. A six-year-old brat stood there, wielding a sword that looked more like a club.
The rooster sneered. How dare a mere human child challenge it? This creature was a predator that had already felled countless men.
With a violent flap of its wings, it charged at Kay.
Flap-flap-flap!
It was blindingly fast. The sharp beak lunged straight for the crown of Kay’s head.
But Kay didn’t dodge. He didn't even need to move. His dynamic vision, honed over a year of fending off the charging onslaughts of eight hungry siblings, had long since surpassed the realm of human limits.
"Too slow."
Kay tilted his head slightly, effortlessly evading the beak.
Then, he swung his sword toward the creature's neck.
Kaaang!
A metallic clang rang out. The feathers were harder than steel. Unable to withstand the impact, the sword snapped clean in two.
"...Ah."
Kay stared blankly at the broken hilt in his hand.
The rooster let out a mocking cry.
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
It lunged again, this time delivering a kick that tore through the air with a whistling scream.
Wham!
Kay crossed his arms to block, but the sheer force sent him reeling backward. His arm bones throbbed with pain, but the light in Kay’s eyes didn't fade. If anything, it blazed with a new intensity.
"No weapon? Don't make me laugh."
Kay tossed the broken hilt aside and clenched his fists.
For the past year, he had sliced through dozens of kilograms of meat daily, crushed bones, changed diapers, and wrestled with eight miniature King Arthurs. This was the raw strength of a six-year-old forged in the fires of domestic labor.
And above all, he possessed the desperation of a boy breadwinner who knew that if he failed here, his home would be destroyed by hunger today.
"I have... the obligation to feed eighty servings of food!!"
With a primal scream, Kay leapt straight into the rooster's chest.
It was a bare-knuckle brawl.
Every time the rooster pecked, blood splattered from Kay’s shoulders and back. His clothes were shredded into rags by the creature's claws.
But Kay never stopped. He seized the rooster's comb and climbed onto its back.
"Tonight's dinner... is chicken!"
Hanging onto the beast, Kay rained down heavy punches on the back of its head.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The rooster went wild, jumping and rolling in a frenzy. Kay was slammed into the mud and thrown against trees, but he refused to let go of that comb.
It was like a rodeo—no, it was a struggle for survival.
"Die! Die! Die!"
The rooster's movements finally began to slow.
Seizing the opening, Kay landed on the ground and dove between the creature's legs.
Then, he unleashed a furious kick, putting every ounce of his six-year-old weight into the blow.
"Take this! The Breadwinner's Burden Kick!!"
Crack!
The strike landed squarely in the rooster's solar plexus.
The giant bird let out a final shriek and collapsed.
Cock-a-doodle-doooo... cluck.
Silence fell over the clearing.
Kay sat atop the fallen bird, gasping for air. He was covered in blood and filth, but his face was etched with a profound sense of achievement.
"...Got it."
He grabbed the bird's massive leg and began to drag it away.
The sight of a six-year-old dragging a monster chicken four times his size was surreal.
A strange, powerful aura emanated from his back.
From a distance, someone was watching the scene.
Observing through a vision from a far-off land was the magician in white robes, Merlin.
"Ho..."
Merlin rested his chin on his hand, looking intrigued.
"Normally, he would have been a talent fit for a mediocre knight. But they say environment shapes the man... he's turning into a monster, isn't he?"
The combination of Ector's blood and a brutal childcare environment had pushed Kay to grow far beyond his predestined fate.
Merlin grinned, genuinely excited by the boy's progress.
"I'm looking forward to it. I wonder just how strong that child will become."
If Kay had heard this, he would have screamed at Merlin to shut up and send the childcare funds. Since that meager pouch of gold coins provided on the first day, Merlin hadn't sent a single penny.
Upon arriving at the cabin, Kay had no time to rest.
The moment he dumped the chicken in the yard, he grabbed the heavy cleaver he used as a kitchen knife.
"Right, time to prep."
Rip!
His hand movements as he plucked the feathers were extraordinary—almost like a professional gambler's sleight of hand. He gutted the bird, separating the edible gizzard and liver, and carefully removed the gallbladder to ensure it didn't burst.
It was a masterclass in butchery. He sliced the meat into large chunks for the pot and set the bones aside.
"Bones for tomorrow's bone broth. Today, we fry the meat and innards."
The firewood roared, and the savory aroma of fried chicken began to spread.
That scent acted like a magic flute.
The cabin door flew open, and eight toddlers came pouring out in a chaotic swarm.
"Meat! Meat!"
"Hungry! All mine!"
"Brother! Smells good!"
Artoria, Artoria Alter, and Lily led the charge, followed by the others.
They had grown significantly over the year. They no longer crawled; they ran. Consequently, they were louder and far more destructive.
"Line up! If you don't line up, you get nothing!"
At Kay's shout, the children hesitantly formed a single file. The hierarchy was absolute: the one who provides the food is the King. Why? Because none of them knew how to cook.
Kay served them bowls of perfectly fried thigh meat and chewy gizzards.
Munch, munch, slurp.
They inhaled the food. In an instant, the two-meter chicken vanished.
With their bellies full, the children began to romp around the yard.
"Brother! Play with us!"
Lily grabbed Kay's arm and tugged. There was no such thing as a break; once they were fed, he had to help them digest.
Their "play," however, was no ordinary game of tag.
"If I catch you, you're dead!!"
The seeker was Artoria Lancer. She charged forward, wielding a wooden stick like a spear, her eyes filled with genuine intensity.
"Kyahaha!"
The children scattered. As for Kay? He was the referee, the safety officer, and the designated odd-man-out.
When Artoria leapt into a tree, Artoria Alter tried to kick the trunk over to bring her down.
"Hey! Don't break the tree! That's firewood!"
Kay shouted as he rushed over and scooped Artoria Alter up. She flailed in his arms.
"Let me go! I'm going to win! I'll knock that blue one down!"
"Be quiet. If you sisters fight, you're skipping dinner tonight."
At the mention of skipping dinner, Artoria Alter immediately became docile, though she took her frustration out by pinching Kay's cheek.
Just then, Artoria X popped out from behind a tree and clung to Kay's back.
"Get off! You're heavy!"
Kay tried to peel her off, but she stuck to him like a piece of gum.
In that moment, Artoria Caster waved her staff.
"Wind!"
Whoooosh—
A light gust of wind blew, but the aim was off. Instead of hitting the target, it sent the laundry—including the diapers—flying into the sky.
"Aaaagh! My laundry!!"
Kay wailed, sprinting after the airborne diapers.
The children found this hilarious, giggling as they chased after him.
"Run, brother! Faster!"
The sun set over the forests of Britain.
A six-year-old boy in blood-stained clothes running to catch diapers, followed by eight superhuman toddlers—it was a bizarre sight.
Kay was breathless, his body feeling as if it were about to break. But then he heard those laughs behind him.
Those voices calling him "brother."
"...Damn it. I guess this is why I do it."
Kay let out a small smile and picked up a fallen diaper.
The shadow stretching behind him was far larger and more solid than it had ever been.
That night.
After the children had all fallen asleep, Kay went out to the yard and began grinding the broken sword on a whetstone. Since the longsword was ruined, he decided to repurpose it into a dagger.
Under the moonlight, Kay's muscles twitched subtly. His magical power was ordinary, nothing special. He possessed no legendary weapon like a Holy Sword.
But he was becoming strong.
To survive this hellish childcare. And to protect this noisy, chaotic family.
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