They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World-Chapter 147: Wife?

I managed to get into the new clothes, simple but clean, a dark tunic and pants that someone had left folded on the chair.

After getting ready, I stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me, and immediately had to pause and blink against the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows of the hallway.

The building I’d been recovering in was apparently near the center of Oakmere, I could hear the sounds of village life clearly now that I was paying attention.

Hammering. Sawing. People calling to each other. The normal rhythms of a community going about its day.

I made my way down the narrow stairs, gripping the railing for support, and emerged into what looked like the main street.

The village was busy.

Everywhere I looked, people were working. Repairing damage from the beast wave, replacing broken shutters, patching holes in walls, reinforcing the rebuilt gate with fresh timber and iron bands.

A group of men were hauling debris from collapsed sections of the palisade. Women worked together to distribute food and supplies from what looked like a communal storehouse.

It was organized chaos, everyone moving with purpose despite the exhaustion visible on their faces.

Then someone spotted me.

An older woman carrying a basket of vegetables stopped mid-step, her eyes widening.

"Young Master!" She immediately set down her basket and bowed, her weathered face breaking into a grateful smile. "Good morning! Thank the gods you’re awake!"

I opened my mouth to respond, but movement to my left caught my attention.

A man repairing a fence had turned at the woman’s words. His eyes found me, and he immediately straightened and bowed as well.

"Young Master Raith! You’re on your feet!"

That drew more attention.

Another person turned. Then another. Like a ripple spreading across water, the entire street seemed to notice my presence simultaneously.

People stopped what they were doing, hammers paused mid-swing, conversations died mid-sentence and bowed.

"Thank you, Young Master!"

"You saved us!"

"Gods bless you!"

"We owe you our lives!"

The gratitude was genuine, overwhelming, and deeply uncomfortable.

I stood there frozen, my mind blank, as what felt like half the village bowed in my direction with expressions ranging from relief to reverence to outright worship.

How do I get away from this?

I raised my hand in an awkward wave-slash-acknowledgment gesture that probably looked ridiculous.

"I... you’re welcome? Please, go back to your work. The village needs rebuilding more than it needs—"

"Three cheers for Young Master Raith!" someone shouted from the back.

Oh no.

"Hip hip!"

"HOORAY!"

Please stop.

"Hip hip!"

"HOORAY!"

I spotted Scarlet leaning against a building about thirty feet away, watching the entire spectacle with undisguised amusement. She caught my eye and smirked, making no move whatsoever to help me escape.

Traitor.

"Hip hip!"

"HOORAY!"

The cheering finally died down, and people began returning to their work, though many were still casting glances in my direction with smiles and waves.

I hurried down the street before anyone could start another round of celebration, moving as quickly as my injuries would allow.

Scarlet pushed off from the wall and fell into step beside me.

"Enjoying your hero’s welcome?" she asked innocently.

"Shut up."

Her smirk widened.

We made our way through the village, following what I assumed was the main road toward the center. More people noticed me as we passed, more bows and thanks and grateful smiles, but at least no one else tried to organize a cheer.

Eventually we reached a house that was slightly larger than the others, two stories, with better construction and what looked like an actual garden in front.

Flowers, even, though they were looking a bit trampled from recent events.

"That’s the chief’s house," Scarlet said, gesturing to the door. "Try not to embarrass yourself."

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming."

She snorted and pushed the door open without knocking.

The interior was modest but well-maintained. A central room with a large table, simple furniture, decorations that suggested comfort rather than wealth. An older man sat at the table, reviewing what looked like supply documents, his grey hair tied back in a practical tail.

He looked up as we entered, and his weathered face immediately broke into a wide smile.

"Young Master Raith!" He stood quickly, moving around the table with surprising speed for someone who had to be in his sixties. "You’re awake! And walking! The healer said it might be another week before—"

He stopped himself, shaking his head, and bowed deeply.

"Forgive me. I’m getting ahead of myself. I am Chief Zen, leader of Oakmere. And I owe you a debt that can never truly be repaid."

"You don’t owe me anything," I said automatically. "I just did what anyone—"

"What anyone should do, perhaps," Zen interrupted gently, "but what very few actually would do. Especially not a noble with no ties to our village, no obligation to risk his life for people he’d never met."

He straightened from his bow and met my eyes directly.

"You saved us, Young Master. Not just from the beasts, but from despair. When our guards were falling and the defenses were crumbling... we thought we were finished. That come dawn, Oakmere would be nothing but corpses and ruins."

His voice grew thick with emotion.

"But you fought. You drew that monsters away from the village."

He bowed again, even deeper this time.

"Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, from every soul in this village, thank you."

I stood there, deeply uncomfortable with the level of gratitude being directed at me, and managed a weak nod.

"I’m... glad I could help."

Zen straightened and smiled.

"We may be a small village, but we take care of our own. And you, Young Master, have more than earned a place among us." He turned toward a doorway leading deeper into the house. "Tessa! Bring the package, please!"

There was a brief pause, then footsteps approaching.

Tessa emerged from what looked like a back room, carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle carefully in both hands.

She looked... different than I remembered from the battle.

Clean, obviously, the blood and grime washed away. But more than that, she was wearing what had to be her nicest clothes.

A simple but well-made dress in deep blue, her hair washed and braided with small flowers woven through it, face glowing despite the exhaustion still visible in her eyes.

She looked genuinely good. Pretty, even.

She saw me and smiled.

"Young Master," she said softly, bowing her head respectfully. "It’s good to see you recovered."

"Thank you. You look well too. I’m glad you survived."

Her smile widened, and a faint blush colored her cheeks.

And I caught a movement in my peripheral vision made me glance to the side.

Rowan stood near the doorway we’d entered through, his jaw clenched tight, hands balled into fists at his sides, and if looks could actually kill, I’d be dead three times over.

Oh.

I looked away quickly, focusing back on Zen as Tessa set the bundle on the table and carefully unwrapped it.

Inside were several items, a small leather pouch that clinked with the sound of coins, wrapped packages that smelled like preserved food, dried meat, hard cheese, travel bread, and what looked like a finely woven travel cloak.

"It’s not much," Zen said, his tone apologetic. "We’re a small village, and the beast wave cost us dearly. But we wanted to give you something to show our gratitude."

He gestured to the items.

"Hundred silver coins, every spare coin the village treasury had. Enough provisions for two weeks of travel. And a cloak made by our best weaver, enchanted with minor water resistance and warmth. It won’t stop a sword, but it’ll keep you dry and comfortable on the road."

I stared at the offerings.

The food represented supplies they’d need for themselves. The cloak was clearly high-quality work, probably worth more than everything else combined.

Before I could speak.

"The village needs to honor its debts," Zen said firmly. "And to show that we’re not ungrateful for the sacrifices made on our behalf."

He smiled and gestured for me to sit.

"Please, sit. Have some tea. You’re still recovering, and I’d hate for you to collapse in my home after surviving an Alpha."

I sat carefully, wincing as my ribs protested, and accepted the cup of tea Tessa poured for me.

Aldric settled across from me, his expression becoming more relaxed, conversational.

"So, Young Master Raith. What brings a noble of your station to our small corner of the kingdom? Surely not just tourism."

"I was traveling with my maid," I said carefully. "She needed to visit her foster mother, who lives here in Oakmere. We arrived just as the beast wave began."

"Ah, yes. Agnes, correct? A lovely girl. Her mother Sira speaks very highly of her." Zen’s expression turned sympathetic. "I’m sorry you arrived at such an unfortunate time. Though I suppose if you’d come even a day later..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t need to.

We both knew Oakmere would have been destroyed.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping tea.

Then Aldric set down his cup and looked at me with an expression that was suddenly much more serious.

"Young Master Raith," he said slowly, "I have a proposition for you."

"Our village has been through much hardship. We’ve lost guards, lost our sense of security. The people need hope, need someone to believe in." He paused, his eyes moving between me and Tessa, who was standing nearby.

"And you have proven yourself to be exactly the kind of man we need."

Where is this going?

"My granddaughter Tessa is a fine young woman. Skilled, brave, you saw her fight during the beast wave. She’s strong, capable, and would make an excellent wife for a man of ambition."

I nearly choked on my tea.

Wife?!

"I would be honored," Zen continued, completely oblivious to my sudden coughing fit, "to offer her hand in marriage. To bind our village to your family."

I coughed harder, tea going down the wrong pipe, my eyes watering.

Tessa’s face had gone bright red, her eyes wide with shock and embarrassment.

Rowan’s murderous expression had intensified to levels I didn’t think were physically possible.

And Scarlet, standing in the corner, was trying very hard not to laugh.

"I—" I managed between coughs. "Chief Zen, I’m... that’s... I’m extremely flattered, but—"

How did I get out of this without offending him?

Think, damn it, think!