FFF-Tier System, SSS-Rank Wife

There was one thing that was common in all kinds of travel.

I think I noticed it when traveling cross-country back on Earth, to get from where I lived to visit my parents, half the country away.

A thing I noticed when traveling to the jungle of death with the Saintess, when the long hours of the travel stretched out.

And a thing that became all the more visible when we needed nearly half a week to cover the same distance now that we were in a much bigger group.

It was boredom.

An aspect of an adventure, of life, that I saw when reading about heroes journeying. A part of the story that the filmmakers would largely omit.

But here, in the real world?

The day started when the sun cast the first rays of its warmth upon the part of the planet we were on.

Normally, I would sleep much further into the day, especially with Selia's chest serving as my pillow or, conversely, my arm serving as hers.

But with so many people moving and with my entire enterprise bleeding money for every unproductive second, today I woke up right with everyone else.

Then, things moved on so fast, I barely had the time to catch a breath.

From the guys who ended up with the last guard snacking on some food before going to catch just a tiny little bit of sleep, through others who went ahead to prepare some meal, all the way to some who decided to do some more work on the shed.

By all means, the first two hours of the day were so frantic, I didn't know where to put my hands and what to focus on.

Yet, after all the minimal renovations to the shed were done, the food prepared and then in a jovial atmosphere consumed and all of our tools and remaining resources packed…

The hell of boredom began.

The part that no scribe would ever note down. A story of how, for the entire rest of the day, all we did was walk, walk and then walk some more, take a short breath to change the guys responsible for drawing the hand-drawn carts, and then walk even more.

I decided to settle on just two breaks during the whole day of the slow walk, both aimed to just get everyone fed and somewhat rested while arranging for the swaps for the ones responsible for hauling the carts.

And then… just more of the same.

At first, I had to get my relaxed body back into the travel form. A tall task given how slow we were moving to let the guys with the carts keep up with us.

There was a point where I even considered splitting up and sending some of my men to move ahead, search for a suitable camping spot, and then start to gather the resources once we got there…

Only for Selia to then enlighten me about two massive faults with that kind of an idea.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," she said as she shook her head before giving me a surprised stare, as if she was shocked I could still be so naive. "Right now, I can keep this group safe. To a degree, that high-ranking guy could too, but only to a degree. But if we split up?"

Selia didn't need to explain any further.

The few times that I crossed this distance filled me with a sense of fake assurance. After all, we never really encountered any dangers while on the road, did we?

That too, however, Selia only needed a few words to dismantle and dismiss.

"You consider this road safe only because you compare it to that damned jungle," she pointed out. "You first crossed this path after leaving the depth of that jungle where you encountered…" she hesitated for a second, "quite the powerful monsters and, if not for me appearing right on time, you were likely to lose your life to them."

Selia shrugged her shoulders.

She didn't bring it up to gloat about how she saved me all that time ago, but to explain a point instead.

"That's why, when you entered this path with no predator in sight nor any spots for them to hide in, you instinctively assumed this place to be safe. But trust me on this, it's not."

My eyebrows shot up my forehead, but I dared not to speak out against her.

After all, what did I even know about this place? Right now I was traveling down this stretch of the road for the mere fourth time in my life. And, as was quite damn obvious, I didn't really have any experience or expertise to speak out about the dangers of traveling here.

"Then, there's another problem," Selia continued, seeing how I sometimes couldn't really follow all the points she was making, but was perfectly willing to accept them on her authority alone. "How would the advance party measure up the distance the carts can travel?"

That was the point I, honestly, didn't consider.

Bored to the ends of my mind, I simply wanted something to happen. For a chance to stave off this awful deprivation of content, leaving me in a position no modern person should ever find themselves in — with my own thoughts.

Selia made a valid point, though.

The whole idea of setting up the sheds on the way while traveling at a relatively relaxed, slow pace, was to mark out the points, turn them into safe houses for the travelers, and then use them as checkpoints for when my workers would bring the coffee over from the jungle and back to the city.

For that to happen, those distances had to be just right for man-drawn carts to cover within a day.

Or, if this operation ever grew to a sufficient level, maybe even just half a day!

"I understand that you are bored out of your mind, but that's the reality of these kinds of things," Selia shrugged her shoulders before stretching her arms up and then bringing them behind all the while her mouth opened up in a huge yawn. "Rather than looking for ways to deal with it, you just need to get used to it."

Her words stuck with me.

At first, they annoyed me. Not because she was wrong — hell, she was right on the mark — but because I hated how powerless it made me feel. That here, with all my grand ideas and my ambitious plans, I couldn't beat something as mundane as boredom.

But then, I thought about it again. And again.

Selia was right.

The real world wasn't about skipping to the next big moment like in a story. It was about the grind in between. The work. The walk. The waiting.

And so, as the hours stretched on, I repeated her words in my mind like a mantra. Step after step, cart wheel after cart wheel, sigh after sigh.

Before I realized it, the sun was already lower in the sky and Selia was nudging me with her elbow.

"We're here," she said simply.

And just like that, everything changed.

The moment we picked the spot, the whole group came alive.

What was sluggish walking turned into brisk movements. What was boredom turned into focus. Everyone rushed into their roles with a speed that surprised even me.

The shed's skeleton started rising almost instantly, logs already being stripped, bark removed, blemishes cut off. The loud thwack of axes and saws filled the air as though we'd marched straight into a construction site.

Others were already cooking, the smell of stewed vegetables and meat drifting over the makeshift work camp.

The difference was striking. Yesterday, it had been chaos, people fumbling around, trying to figure out what to do. Today? It was like watching a machine slowly learn how to operate itself.

No, not a machine.

A group. A team.

Not military discipline — far from it. There were jokes, bickering, even a small fight over whether one log was straight enough to be useful. But it was still efficient.

I leaned against one of the carts and just watched for a while, arms crossed.

There was always talk about the divide between military engineers and civilian engineers. Soldiers valued precision, order, chains of command. Civilians valued creativity, flexibility, improvisation.

But watching this ragtag group work together, I couldn't help but think… maybe there needed to be another category entirely. Something in between. Ordinary people, untrained but driven, building not out of duty or design but out of sheer necessity.

They weren't professionals. They weren't soldiers. They were just… people.

And yet, they got the job done.

By the time the sky turned orange, the skeleton of the shed was already up. By the time the last light faded, the roof of bundled grass was nearly finished, smoke was rising from a rough chimney, and bowls of food were being passed around the circle of tired but satisfied workers.

I sat down beside Selia, my legs aching but my heart strangely full.

"See?" she said quietly, nudging me again as if to drive her earlier point home. "Sometimes, the boring part is the most important one."

I chuckled. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

For once, I didn't even feel the need to debate it. Not here, not now, not after a whole day of effort that has now concluded on such a pleasant note.

Because she was right.

And as I leaned back, the sound of laughter, clinking bowls, and crackling fire surrounding me, I realized that maybe boredom wasn't the enemy I thought it was.

Maybe it was just… part of the road.