Chapter 166

The free study period—squeezed in right before grades were announced—wrapped up the moment Mikhail handed in his final assignment to the professor.

Mikhail walked away from the faculty building and started down the path, then stopped mid-stride and looked back.

The sunset hung lower and heavier than usual.

A familiar sight, yet one that stirred something new every time. Tomorrow, the same orange-washed view would unfold somewhere far from campus.

Three days, give or take…. That should be enough to track the enemy.

Mikhail stood in place for a moment before turning his steps toward the dormitory.

The next day arrived.

Early morning on the first day of break, inside his private dormitory room.

Mikhail set his travel bag on the chair and ran through the mission objective one more time.

Lift the target and get out. No commotion.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes and curled his hand into a fist. He let out a steadying breath, then pictured the scene he was walking into.

A merchant caravan threading its way through rough mountain roads, with operatives concealed within the procession, biding their time.

His plan was to pull the operational directive from one of them just before they slipped away. With that in hand, he could pin down whatever threat was bearing down on the main storyline.

"……"

Mikhail pressed down the mana that had begun pulsing in response to his nerves, opened and closed his eyelids in measured rhythm, then reached toward the desk.

But first, let's see what came in.

His fingertips landed on a freshly delivered piece of mail.

[Report Card: Mikhail Senit]

Mikhail tore open the envelope and unfolded the page. A long list of courses and grades stretched down the paper.

[Ancient Civilizations and Founding History: High]

[Origins of Magic: Highest]

.

.

.

[Second-Year Magic Department Final Rank: 1/52]

Father… would be pleased.

Mikhail read through the entries with an even gaze, then folded the report card and tucked it into the desk drawer before turning around.

His eyes went to the window this time. Han and Ul were grooming each other's fur, getting themselves ready to head outside.

Mikhail walked over to the pair, gave the cord tied to the window latch a light tug, and explained.

"If it starts raining, just pull this cord like so and the window will close. I rigged the same thing for the faucet and the mana lamp—pull or push to run water or turn on the light."

"Grrn."

"The snacks are in the tin. Slide the lid and one biscuit comes out at a time. Don't go overboard…. Two a day, that's it. Promise? I'm counting what's left when I get back."

"Snrf."

His tone took on the cadence of a worried parent toward the end, but Han and Ul looked thoroughly unimpressed.

They watched the snack tin and wagged their tails. They could have been a pair of mischievous six-year-olds.

Mikhail gave up on the lecture, let out a resigned laugh, and said with an indulgent smile.

"All right. Treat yourselves while I'm gone. Eat whatever you want—just don't make yourselves sick. We've got a deal."

"Yip!"

The bright reply came back. Mikhail rubbed the bridges of their noses, then turned, walked to the chair, and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yip."

"If Lloyd… I mean, a boy about my age, hangs around outside the door, you can leave him be. I asked him to keep an eye on the place."

Mikhail listened to their answering yelp—same as before—and grabbed his hat off the rack.

He was about to step out when he turned back to the pair sitting obediently and smiled.

"See you in four days. I'll be back before you know it."

---

His destination this time was the foot of the Iseuk Mountain Range, in the kingdom's southeast.

Rugged terrain and rough paths—a place most groups wouldn't dream of attempting without a proper expedition.

The moment Mikhail stepped out of the academy gate onto the main road, he made for Haeron's magic tool shop.

First, he bought a scroll that would pass for the look of an operational directive at a glance.

Second, he picked up the magic tool he'd commissioned, put it on, walked out of the shop, and climbed aboard the carriage.

Neiiigh.

After people had been filing in for a while, the carriage—now full—loaded its passengers and rolled out along the stretching road.

Past a flat stretch of coastal road, it turned onto a path where dense green foliage closed in.

Clatter. Clatter.

Maybe because the road was unpaved. Every time the wheels hit a stone, the carriage rocked hard.

Mikhail tuned out the passengers chatting away around him and grimaced.

Ow.

It wasn't the noise. The cause was physical.

Mikhail caught his hand before it could rise to his left ear, and exhaled.

Haeron's voice from just before he'd left was still ringing in his ear.

[Here, try it on. Made it to your specs exactly. Now, what can I say about this magic tool—it has way more durability than the last one, plus it's comfortable enough to wear all day, and—]

Mikhail shook his head to push the long-winded sales pitch aside and called up the image of what he'd received.

The second disguise tool Haeron had made for him. A small loop of an earring.

Unlike the last one, this version was designed to minimize external contact and reduce the chances of catching anyone's eye, which—according to Haeron—dropped the odds of breakage considerably….

Sounds reasonable enough, but I've never worn this kind of thing before. It hurts and it feels weird.

His earlobe throbbed in agreement. Mikhail shifted his gaze to the scenery outside the window, hoping to take his mind off the sting.

"—Hey there, young man with the short hair. How far are you headed?"

That was when it happened. A boisterous voice from the seat beside him—the one who'd been steering the conversation—turned its attention on Mikhail. Mikhail glanced sidelong at the burly frame and answered.

He had no intention of stirring up trouble over anything unrelated to the objective, or of getting tangled up with the people around him.

"The foot of the Iseuk Mountain Range."

"Oh-ho? Same place I'm headed!"

The man practically lit up at the answer, his eyes sparkling as he turned to look around at everyone else.

"Folks, I finally found a fellow traveler! Got myself a companion!"

"Oh-ho—! Good for you! As they say, the heart of any journey is a new friend to talk to and good food to share…! …Who said that, again?"

Laughter and applause broke out from every direction. Beneath the rowdy mood, Mikhail tilted his head just slightly.

He'd only stated his destination. How exactly he'd ended up as this man's traveling companion was beyond him… but he kept his thoughts to himself.

A traveling companion only meant for a while. The man's enthusiasm wouldn't extend beyond the fact that they happened to be going the same way.

That was when it happened. A middle-aged man seated up front got a mischievous look on his face, glanced between Mikhail and the burly one, and spoke.

"—Hey, hang on. You're going for the heavy labor, sure, fair enough. But why's that kid headed to the mountains? He looks pretty out of it. Wonder if any caravan'll even hire him."

"Uh… huh? What are you suddenly going on about—"

"Come on, look at him. Those vacant eyes, that washed-out complexion. Honestly, if you hadn't spoken to him, I wouldn't have even noticed he was sitting there."

The burly man waved his hands urgently as if to shush the older one.

"Ahem! What kind of talk is that about my traveling companion? It's not… vacant, it's… you know… it's an easygoing look. Easygoing, that's the word!"

"Easygoing? That's not what easygoing means—"

Back and forth the voices went. Mikhail blinked blankly, then absently rubbed his cheek.

Vacant. Out of it. Washed-out….

Not words he'd ever heard used to describe him before, that much was certain.

Looks like the thing actually works.

The irritation under his ear had gone quiet. Mikhail pulled the corners of his mouth up internally. Since things had played out this way, he might as well make the most of the impression.

"Aah…."

Mikhail let a pitiful little sound escape and dropped the hand that had been rubbing his cheek.

The sudden motion stopped everyone mid-conversation. Mikhail turned to the older man and spoke with a wobbly half-smile.

"Yeah. You've got me pegged. That's exactly it."

"Hm?"

"I know I come off a little slow…. I left my village and I'm headed out a long way. My younger sister's sick and I need money for her medicine, but nobody back home would hire me. So I figured, somewhere that needs a lot of hands, maybe they'd take on someone like meee…."

"Uh… uh."

The bustling carriage went hushed. Only flattened, careful breaths slipped in and out like alley cats, until the burly man—who'd just declared himself the companion—broke the silence.

"—Pffff, honestly! Listen to yourself!"

The man's eyebrows shot up at a sharp angle, and he grabbed the older man's arm and started smacking it.

"See? That was way out of line. Do you have any idea how rough it is when family's sick? Huh? You shouldn't go running your mouth when you don't know somebody's situation. That kind of talk comes back around. Act your age."

"Augh… I didn't, I really didn't know! I had no idea! I'm sorry I said all that. I'm sorry! Aaaugh!"

The older man whimpered and shrank his shoulders in. He glanced sheepishly at Mikhail with an awkward grin, then ducked his head behind the seat back.

"—Ahem. Ahem."

Mikhail was still staring at the back of the man's head when a thunderous throat-clearing erupted right beside him.

He turned toward the noise. The moment their eyes met, the big man launched right in with a bright, hearty tone.

"So that's what's going on, huh. Must be weighing on you something fierce. But don't you worry! I happen to be headed there for the same reason, so I'll help you get yourself hired."

The man spoke with full-throated confidence, slapping his chest a couple of times, then jerked his thumb toward himself and grinned.

"Name's Sally Argo. What's yours?"

---

Whrrr.

It was about four or five hours later. The carriage slowed as it neared a village at the foot of the mountain range, dropped off a handful of passengers at the platform, and started moving again.

Sally Argo, huh…. Wouldn't be the worst thing to stick with him for a while.

Mikhail walked toward the management office in the center of the village, the hoofbeats fading behind him.

Beside him, the self-appointed traveling companion he'd just exchanged names with kept pace.

"Maxwell, eh. That's a pretty fine name, young fellow."

He'd considered a new alias but decided it wasn't necessary. Mikhail glanced sidelong at Sally and replied.

"Thanks for the kind words. Just hope I can grow into it soon."

"Ah, no need to get hung up on that kind of thing. By that logic, I should be weaving cloth instead of hauling oak barrels."

Sally let out a booming laugh and rubbed his stubbled chin.

"Honestly? The name Sally suits some young lady somewhere better than it suits me. Wouldn't you say?"

"…I can't really argue with that."

Mikhail kept his tone level, paused a beat, and continued.

"Doesn't really matter though, does it."

"Exactly. Not particularly important."

Sally folded his arms and nodded with easy agreement, then let out a breath like he was clearing something off his chest and picked up the thread.

"Brings something to mind, actually. I got teased plenty over my name when I was little. Said I'd be weak, said I'd be a coward, whatever else they could come up with…. I used to throw fits begging my parents to change it."

"……"

"But somewhere along the way I just got stubborn about it. Whatever folks said, I wanted to show them I was different. So I trained hard, toughened up my head and my body both. And here I am with this build to show for it…."

Sally paused for a moment before pressing on.

"So what I'm saying is, names and all that—it's what you do with them. Don't get tied down. Take hold and make it yours. Yeah?"

Mikhail looked up quietly at Sally, whose eyes gleamed with that hearty spark.

Then he smiled in acknowledgment and spoke.

"I had no idea there was a story behind it."

"Hah hah. Usually is."

"I'll remember that. Don't get tied down—take hold."

At Mikhail's reply, Sally beamed with pride and bobbed his head up and down. Then, almost as an afterthought, he tilted his head to one side and said.

"Now that you mention it… something about your way of talking shifted just now, didn't it?"

"Must be your imaginatiooon."

"…Think so?"

Sally seemed to accept it with a scratch of his cheek.

The instant Mikhail pulled his sidelong glance away to face forward, the booming voice rang out again with delight.

"Heh, see, having someone to talk to really does make a difference. Made it to the management office before I knew it! Once we register over there, we can join up with the procession right away."