Chapter 80

Mikhail looked down at his stinging palm.

A reddish wound was etching itself across his skin, tracing the beginnings of a circular mark.

He narrowed his eyes and sparked mana over his palm.

Pzzzzt.

The spreading mark faltered, its expansion grinding to a halt before the dark blue mana consumed it entirely.

All that remained on Mikhail's hand was a raw, bruised wound.

"Hah."

He clenched his fist, rose to his feet, and turned his gaze toward the lakeshore.

He'd weakened the scale of what was coming—that much was done. Now he needed to meet Cashion and demonstrate his skills.

That would make the work ahead considerably smoother.

---

"Tch… What a pain."

Out on the lake's center, the man inspecting the fountain clicked his tongue and planted his hands on his hips.

Cashion had come out worried that the overnight downpour might have damaged the fountain, and sure enough—his instincts were right.

Several nozzle mechanisms that had been installed alongside the central fountain in preparation for the festival were damaged.

'Fixing them isn't the problem—I need someone to operate the circuit formulas on the main fountain while I work. Should've brought Terha along….'

But Cashion immediately shook his head.

The image of Terha sleeping like the dead, kicking off her blankets, surfaced in his mind. She'd been chattering away until late in the evening about some fascinating person she'd met, and he'd already warned her she'd oversleep if she kept at it.

Whatever the case, he had no desire to rob a girl her age of sleep.

'Nothing for it. Even if it's a hassle, I'll have to head back and find someone, or wait for Terha to wake up and come back lat—'

"—Sir, what are you doing out there?!"

A shout rang out from the lake's edge, and Cashion spun around.

A fine-featured boy with dark blue hair fluttering in the breeze was waving at him.

"Is something the matter?"

"…Hmm?"

The creases of irritation smoothed from Cashion's face, and his eyes lit up.

Someone showing up right when he needed an extra pair of hands.

A spark of delight shot through him, and he cupped his hands around his mouth to shout back.

"Could you go fetch someone for me? There's a problem with the fountain, and…!"

The boy at the water's edge nodded without hesitation and cupped his own hands to reply.

"Sure thing! But before that—could I take a look at the fountain myself?"

"?"

Cashion blinked, baffled.

Issues involving magic tools weren't the sort of thing a layperson could diagnose with a casual glance. Where on earth was this boy getting the confidence to ask so matter-of-factly?

"Let me see it! If I can help directly, there's no need for anyone to make the long trip back, right?"

While Cashion hesitated, the boy pressed again with an air of unmistakable self-assurance.

"Ha, well now."

Cashion let out an amused chuckle and nudged the boat's oar with the tip of his foot.

There was something endearing about the sheer boldness of a boy who looked to be around Terha's age.

Keeeeen.

A resonant hum sounded as the oar's surface formulas glowed faintly, and it began to move on its own.

The boat cut through the water and came to a stop in front of the boy.

Cashion was about to jerk his chin in invitation when something made him pause—he stared at the boy's face.

For some reason, there was the faintest flicker of recognition. A face that stirred a dim sense of déjà vu.

Whoosh.

Before Cashion could dwell on it, the boy sprang onto the boat in one fluid motion and offered an easy, open smile.

Cashion faltered for just a beat, then returned the smile.

"Alright. If you want to see it that badly, I'll show you. It's nothing terribly complicated, anyway."

"Thank you, sir."

The boy dipped his head in a cheerful bow, then turned toward the fountain.

Cashion steered the boat back to the center of the lake. Once they'd arrived in front of the fountain, he smiled genially and glanced sideways.

"So, what do you think? Bit over your head now that you're seeing it up clo—"

But the words died on his tongue.

The boy had locked his gaze on the fountain, utterly still. Every trace of that easygoing manner had vanished.

His eyes alone moved, boring into the fountain's inner structure with piercing intensity.

The atmosphere had turned so sharply cold and analytical that Cashion lost his words for a moment. He recovered with a cough.

"If someone could operate the circuit while I work—redirect the mana flow away from the outer nozzles—that'd be all I need…."

Formula circuits were etched across the elliptical body of the fountain, linking it to the surrounding substructures.

Lines and shapes crossed and interlocked—symbols and patterns radiating a faint, steady glow.

The sheer complexity of it would have made anyone encountering formula architecture for the first time recoil in bewilderment.

"Pretty tough for a civilian, I know. So if we just head back to town now and I have someone I can a—"

"I think I've got it."

Click. Click.

The boy reached out and turned two gear wheels etched with straight lines.

Instantly, the mana field flowing through one section of the formula went dark.

The nozzle on the fountain's right side sputtered one or two thin streams of water, then fell silent.

"……"

Cashion stared at the dormant nozzle, struck speechless. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with disbelief.

"Boy, were you an apprentice to a magic tool artisan in this city?"

The boy shook his head.

"No, sir. I'm not an apprentice."

He met Cashion's increasingly bewildered gaze and let the corner of his mouth tilt upward.

"I worked it out from the layout of the surrounding nozzles, the structural design of the fountain, and a bit of old formula knowledge I had stored away."

Cashion stared at the boy in stunned silence for a long moment.

Then, in a voice whose depths were impossible to read, he spoke slowly.

"What's your name?"

"Mikhail."

Cashion murmured the name under his breath, and a knowing smile settled onto his face.

"Ahh. Now the name rings a bell. You're the one who helped Terha with her work. She was making such a fuss—going on about some incredible person she'd met—I figured the wind had gotten to her head. Seems it wasn't just bluster after all."

Cashion bent down, retrieved a flat buoy from the bottom of the boat, and tossed it onto the water beside them.

Then, wearing a generous grin, he looked at Mikhail and spoke with frank openness.

"Well then. Since things have worked out this way, let's put you to proper use for me and my apprentice both. Can you handle the formula circuits while I do the repairs?"

Mikhail leapt onto the buoy and answered without a beat of hesitation.

"Yes. Leave it to me."

"Now that's the kind of answer I like."

Cashion smiled with satisfaction, tapped the oar with his foot, and steered the boat toward the nozzle in the far right corner.

From the moving boat, he turned his head and called out to Mikhail.

"Four nozzles need fixing! We'll start from the one you already shut down and work clockwise. Don't forget to reconnect the formulas on each one after I'm done!"

"Understood."

Mikhail nodded his acknowledgment, then fixed his eyes on the scene unfolding ahead.

As he gave a short nod, Cashion pulled the boat up to the first nozzle and began reconnecting components.

Mikhail watched the old man work in silence, then slowly lowered his gaze to the water beneath his feet.

Blurble….

The surface, calm just moments ago, had begun to ripple. Air bubbles and tiny sparks drifted up from below.

The elemental spirits dwelling in the lake were reacting to the shifting mana wavelengths caused by the circuit adjustments.

"—Hey! Switch the circuit! Moving on to the second one!"

Cashion's shout carried from the right-side nozzle. Mikhail pulled his gaze from the water and moved the circuits.

He disconnected the sections slated for repair and reconnected the ones already completed.

"Hmm, hm-hmm."

The work flowed without a hitch. Cashion even hummed to himself, clearly pleased by how seamlessly things were moving.

Past the second nozzle, then the third and fourth.

Just as the work neared its end—

Shrrrrk.

A dark silhouette began flickering beneath the blue water.

The buoy bobbing on the rippling surface had started to sway in wider and wider arcs.

This was exactly what Mikhail had been waiting for.

He curled his lips upward and lightly clenched and unclenched his hand.

"Hngh—all done! Wrap up the circuits!"

Cashion's booming voice announced the final repair.

Mikhail called back his acknowledgment and raised his hand to adjust the formula circuits.

Click.

The straight line rotated into place like a key settling into its groove.

The incomplete, severed formula assumed its finished form.

Shrrk. Shrrrrk.

Cashion performed one final check on the formulas Mikhail had set, and the job was done.

---

On the boat heading back to shore.

Cashion paused mid-way through organizing his tools and stole a glance behind him.

There stood the person whose contribution had been indispensable in getting this finished without a hitch.

Cashion opened his mouth to address Mikhail, who sat gazing out at the blue water with a quiet smile.

"Thank you. You saved me a lot of trouble. You helped me, so it's only right I return the favor. Is there anything you'd li—"

"Watch out."

The response that followed wasn't what Cashion had expected at all.

The cryptic warning made his eyebrows twitch, but he quickly traced Mikhail's line of sight.

Beneath the boat, a dark mass was closing in by the second.

A chill crawled up his spine. Cashion dropped low in an instant.

CLANG!

The hull lurched violently. Cashion clenched his jaw, seized the oar, and wrenched the bow aside.

"Kid in the back! Hold on tight!"

Cashion's quick reflexes kept the boat from capsizing.

But the real problem was just beginning. The surface churned wildly, and the owner of that dark mass raised its head.

A lungfish—rare, self-sustaining in the deep, clear waters of the lake—armored in dense scales, its body the size of a small house.

"…This is bad. What in the world is going on?"

Cashion bit down on his lip and white-knuckled the oar.

The lungfish had surfaced and reared its head high before barreling toward the boat at speed.

Its vacant, unfocused eyes gave it a dazed, witless look—yet the hostility radiating from it was unmistakable.

Its jaws gaped wide, yawning open as though it meant to swallow the boat whole.

"Hmph. All it knows is how to eat. Stupid beast."

Cashion twisted his lip into a sneer and reached into the toolbox, pulling out a pair of nippers fitted with a large battery.

A magic tool he'd crafted as a gift for Terha—meant for the day he'd teach her about supplementary formulas.

…Though in truth, the day he'd actually hand it over seemed rather far off.

'Can't be helped. Given the situation, I'll use this to hit the thing and just make something new lat—'

Pzzt.

A faint but razor-edged noise pricked the back of Cashion's skull.

The unfamiliar sound made him freeze, hand still reaching for the tool, and he turned around.

Mikhail had one arm extended past Cashion's shoulder, eyes locked on the massive lungfish.

"…You!"

Cashion lost his words the instant he saw the torrent of blue mana swirling above Mikhail's outstretched hand.

Mikhail, who hadn't taken his eyes off the water until that very moment, slowly raised his gaze to meet Cashion's.

The corners of those eyes curved into an elegant arc, and his closed lips parted just slightly.

"Save it. That gift."

As if those murmured words were a signal—

The dark blue mana coiled above his outstretched hand erupted forward in a straight line.