After the morning prayers, I strolled through the halls. Lately, it feels like people have started to recognize my face and name, and it makes me happy to occasionally be greeted by them.
In a quiet corner of the hall where few people linger, I sit in one of the empty chairs for visitors to pass the time. The rush of students coming for their lectures has already passed, and the reason I’m waiting here is just one.
A staff member carrying a stack of papers approaches from the other side of the counter. Their destination? The job board, of course.
The rapid affixing of the papers with magic brings back memories. It’s just like the countless tales I’ve read and obsessed over; there was even a guy who took a thievery skill just to better position a desired job on these kinds of boards. Some GMs would even make us roll dice here to set the difficulty for the session, and I vividly remember being both excited and upset by the results of those dice.
The gatherers here, seeking jobs, must find some enjoyment in this atmosphere as well.
Once the staff member finishes sticking the last paper and leaves, satisfied with her work—I don’t immediately head to the job board…
Because there are the legitimate lecture attendees waiting for the new postings too.
My situation is rather delicate; I’m a long-lived species researcher’s apprentice who’s spent nearly twenty years doing fieldwork, the elder brother to that researcher’s apprentice, and one of the favorites pampered by the head of the school faction. It’s not hard to imagine that this combination could lead to some peculiar complications with this group.
To harmoniously coexist without being ostracized takes care. It wouldn’t look good for an outsider like me to greedily take advantage of a system designed to assist their livelihoods.
Sure, using my powerful connections to act recklessly or force people into silence might seem simple, but that’s the work of small-minded individuals. These sorts inevitably get utilized or killed off halfway through the story, so knowing these tropes, I choose to restrain myself.
And anyway, it’d be ridiculous to squabble with kids like some obnoxious grocer’s son who hasn’t been bullied, just because.
Since deep inside, I’m grown-up, it’s better to observe their efforts from behind, I think.
Though if someone does pick a fight, they’ll certainly get an education in “social studies.”
“Hey, Erich, isn’t this a fine morning?”
But this kind of interaction, I gladly welcome.
“Yeah, Mika, is it? Morning, fine weather, right. Are the lectures alright?”
I casually reply—having been told the second time we met to “cut the modesty attitude”—and he naturally sits beside me, smiling brightly as he says that the professor has been quite popular at recent dinner parties.
From his manner and tone, he’s far too smooth. Lately, I’ve started to wonder: if this world had a protagonist, would it be him? Or might he be the type one courts in a dating sim?
Unfortunately, I can’t bluntly ask, “What’s your gender?” and so I’ve let the days slide by without asking.
“Ah, so the professor obtained ‘insight’ at the dinner parties?”
“Right, he’s probably exploring a new horizon right now, drowning in a sea of sheets.”
“Obtaining insight” is just the courtly way of saying the professor collapses from too much drinking at official dinner parties. If a noble of the Threefold Empire were to fall unconscious from alcohol, well, that can’t be right. Clearly, they’ve been overwhelmed by brilliant ideas and can’t let go of their work—it must’ve been coined with a smirk and has since become common usage. I adore these sorts of witticisms.
“Well, looks like we’ve got some free time. Shall we go?”
“Yes, let’s go, to procure sustenance.”
The two of us pretend to be sophisticated, then giggle and stand up a moment later. I’ve forgotten who started this, but lately, it’s become a kind of regular routine.
“…Ah, there’s an herb collection request. I wonder why they specifically call for wild ones?”
“Hmm? I’ve heard that herbs grown on overly fertilized land can affect their effectiveness, so that could be it. But Erich, what about this one? It’s a simple errand…”
“Sorry, as an apprentice, I’d rather stick to jobs that can be done in a day. I have the morning and evening prayers.”
“Ah, indeed, this one is a little too far. Then, how about that herb gathering one? I’ve been meaning to take herbalist lectures soon myself.”
By all means, I’d be delighted to receive your guidance. This theatrical line is part of the ongoing game we’ve been playing ever since we were in the square listening to a bard’s epic tales. Unlike Heinz, he was moved by the magical bridge the sorcerer conjured for the hero to cross the river of chaos.
“Fennel, Wormwood, Anise, and Honeysuckle…”
“…Hmm, sounds like this is less for magical potions and more for spiced herbal wine. How about we throw in some cinnamon?”
“That’s funny, but… no, Delphinium is a poison plant. And if you steep Aconitum in it, even a dwarf would foam and collapse.”
We pull down the list and check it, imagining the purpose of the job while reading its content, which includes details about how the roots should be collected cleanly for each item’s reward.
Our path then takes us to the stables.
The Imperial Capital was built on land deemed politically favorable, with limited farmland outside the walls and a few kilometers of open space before dense forests begin. This seems to be a strategic move to make it difficult for enemies to establish large camps, with the area kept preserved and maintained as living forests.
However, since only logging is officially forbidden, magicians have taken the opportunity to cultivate a variety of useful herbs from different lands. In the absence of efficient and cost-effective magical herb gardens, they worked to ensure steady access to materials even away from their home bases by letting the plants spread where there was space.
As a result, various herbs still thrive within these protected forests, managed by the great magicians who adjusted the environment through their countless spells. This was something Mika explained, and I well remember his impassioned tone that seemed to reflect his deep respect for the magic he studies and reveres.
Naturally, the distance isn’t trivial, so instead of walking, we use Castor and Pollux, horses Lady Agrippina has said we can ride as we please since she has no immediate use of them.
Incidentally, I obtained the <Riding> skill up to <Proficient> in my childhood for handling Halter, so even leading this draught horse requires some technique. I could’ve taken <Beast Leading> instead, but since the former skill would be broadly helpful, I decided it would be useful.
Besides, they’re large military horses. Letting them run occasionally is good for them physically and mentally; even the most reclusive among us can feel stressed sitting around all the time.
As the two horses jostle for who gets to carry me today, and others join in on the fun with eager shouts of “Me! Me! Why not me?” I settle on Castor, as yesterday I practiced riding Pollux.
“Hey, waah, stop! Enough already! Not you again! Help me, Erich!”
I’m adjusting the girth when Mika’s cry interrupts us. He’s being hassled by an odd unicorn that insists on biting his hair. Unlike the horn-bashing one might expect from a unicorn, this one seems to prefer nibbling at Mika’s slightly unruly black hair, licking his face, or pushing him around with its neck until he nearly falls.
That guy, again. No matter what, can’t we get him to stop messing with us whenever we pass? I wish there was some way in the <Faith> category that works on humans to understand equines, like a <Horse Language> skill. Although, officially he’s classified as more of a magical beast, I guess.
Trying to stop this mistreatment of my friend, I end up being bitten down together, and after being thoroughly mauled until we both need a <Purification> spell, a stablehand arrives to save us. Thank you, sister. If I had been injured by a horse here, it would’ve been embarrassing even as an adventurer.
That scar on that guy’s face? Ah, just an encounter with a peculiar unicorn.
We cast <Purification> on each other, mount Castor, and set off. Once Mika learns to ride on his own, it’ll be fun to go on long rides together.
We stock up on lunch on a city street and then trot out of the city with an easy pace. Similar to a bicycle, the ride is smooth enough but terribly up and down, so unless you’re used to it, your back and butt will likely give out. Horses, as living creatures, are trickier to handle than they seem.
Somewhere in this proof is the sweet smell that lingers—I’ll keep that a secret forever.
The outer edge of the capital is mostly grassland, occasionally used for military drills, so it’s actually rather neatly managed. Apparently, it’s regularly cared for by so-called construction magic users, bureaucratic specialists in public infrastructure. This, by the way, is Mika’s desired career path.
While I have no time to admire the work of these pioneers, I’m inspired by it as we ride together.
But Castor seems unusually focused on me.
Ah, it’s clear, isn’t it? A request for a gallop. He wants me to stop fooling around and let him go all out.
“Mika, are you alright?”
“Uh, ah, yes! Perfectly fine! Although my back is a little sore!”
“Exactly, I told you to use your hips to absorb the shock.”
Don’t oversimplify it! His cry aside, I refine the “hand” spell formation as a precaution and kick Castor’s side.
His neigh resounds across the grasslands, joined by the thunder of hooves and, somewhere in the mix, a blood-curdling scream…
…
[TIPS] In the capital streets, riding faster than a walk risks a fine of more than one Libra.
…
“You occasionally have such forceful tendencies…”
“Yeah, well… sorry about that.”
In contrast to Castor’s satisfied expression, I escape Mika’s reproving glare from horseback. Don’t you dare bite the reins! You want to run more, don’t you? You’ve been reprimanded, you know.
…Alright, it’s all my fault. I sincerely apologize.
Something gets me riled up when we horse around like this. Indeed, my skills and instincts, much like a fox and a goose, often pull me back into childish behavior, but I can’t help it.
This feeling of everything being fun reminds me of something. It’s akin to building a new party at a new gaming table.
Explaining your character’s traits while getting to know the other players’ carefully crafted characters is genuinely enjoyable. Thinking about what we’ll do with this group lifts my spirits endlessly.
And especially when someone like Mika is there, it’s even better. He’s a type I haven’t had around before.
A single piece of cheese from the lunchbox buys me his cooperation as we start gathering herbs.
Herbs are crucial for mages. Their main uses are two-fold:
First, to produce magical potions.
Second, as “catalysts.”
Magical potions are, literally, solidified magic phenomena, fixed into the world in the form of medicine. This method involves extracting “elements” from ingredients like herbs, minerals, or even meat and fungi, infusing and purifying them with magical energy to create a finished potion.
The advantage is not instantly draining one’s magical energy, and compared to magic itself, potions seem to create less “reality distortion,” allowing them to persist longer—often lasting anywhere from ten to twenty years.
Besides, stockpiling while you’re healthy for a grand display later is also an option, as potions aren’t limited to just recovery magic.
Still, the effort and materials aren’t trivial, and indulging this way makes it feel like we’re throwing gold around. But, as is the case in many games, alchemy operates with similar constraints.
As for the second use, catalysts—like my old mentor, who gave me this ring, used them to aid “magic” or “sorcery.”
For example, giving someone a match rather than saying, “Rough it out with this stick!” drastically lowers the difficulty, and dry wood versus damp wood makes a difference post-ignition.
Catalysts prepare a magical environment, much like how a small amount of gunpowder can be easily manipulated into fireworks. Sure, a masterful sorcerer might conjure light with raw magic, but it drains far more power and isn’t sustainable.
Thus, catalysts serve as the training wheels that “convince” the world to let the magic flow easily. While it’s fine for one-off stunts, performing magic dozens of times on request, such as launching fireworks for a local lord, would be exhausting without them.
Yes, brute force users with overwhelming magical power do exist, like my employer.
Nonetheless, collecting herbs for magical potion purposes, we carefully dig them up root and all, meticulously, as if gathering specimens, not knowing how these plants will be used. It’s cheaper to place an order via the job board than to search for merchants randomly.
This is the easier side of herb collection. Some require taking entire chunks of surrounding soil to activate their magical properties, while others have such a short lifespan they wilt within two minutes if not kept in specially prepared flasks.
We enjoy ourselves until early afternoon, collecting herbs worth a few silver coins apiece. Mika picks up the intricacies and quality assessments of herbs quickly, so teaching him as his master wasn’t too challenging. Or perhaps, his type of learner is exactly what makes a good student—I just end up feeling that hands-on learners are cuter. Maybe it’s Eliza’s influence.
“Hey, Erich, ignoring the herbs, you’ve gathered quite the bounty of apricots.”
“And you’ve stuffed your boots full of raspberries, Mika?”
After eating our lunchboxes, we snack on our “spoils” as we lean against a large tree, enjoying the summer heat receding from our bodies. The cooling sensation as sweat evaporates is a uniquely seasonal pleasure—there’s no better feeling than indulging in it after a day of carefree fun.
“Delicious.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
Our faces close together in agreement, then we burst into laughter for no particular reason. Such aimless conversations are endlessly fun.
Suddenly, a faint reaction triggers my <Presence Detection>. Subconsciously, my hand drifts toward the fairy dagger always hidden in my sleeve, but the slow approach from above holds no hostility.
No, in fact, the faint presence isn’t even alive.
“Ah, rare, isn’t it? A letter bird.”
The approaching figure is indeed a small paper bird, folded into the shape of a sparrow. It’s familiar, moving just like the real thing.
Ah yes, it’s the same one that invited me to the “fashion show” a week ago.
Sure enough, it lands on my knee and unfolds into a document revealing Lord Raizenitz’s crest and an invitation to join him on a postponed library visit for the second session.
Ah, that’s right, last time Lord Raizenitz got carried away, so we had to reschedule the library visit. Understanding my frustration, the second session will involve picking up clothes from a tailor before heading to the magic academy tomorrow.
Carefully writing an acceptance using a charcoal fragment provided, the note refolds into a bird and takes off.
“Even if it is flashy, it’s rather charming, don’t you think? If someone received a dinner invitation this way, wouldn’t their heart skip a beat?”
“Haha, then I must be an exception. This makes me feel oddly uninspired.”
As we watch the paper bird soar away, one concern comes to mind.
This handsome friend of mine mustn’t meet Lord Raizenitz under any circumstances…
[TIPS] The Dawn Breakers’ primary rival faction is the Dawn’s Light.
From sprint to take-off.
Finally, my bookmark count exceeded five thousand, and I even received a review. I’m truly grateful for the overwhelming encouragement. I’ll keep striving hard, so please look forward to next week!
—
