CHAPTER 4: Days of Reminiscence

01

Mariela and Sieg headed north through town just after dawn broke.

The northern road bordered the business district on one side and the living quarters of those in farming and animal husbandry on the other. Near the northern gate was a yagu rental shop, the kind livestock farmers often ran as a second business. These places started lending out the creatures early in the morning.

“Pardon me, sir! I’d like to rent a strong yagu that can carry two people for one day, please.”

“Never seen yer face before. This fella here’s tough; he’ll carry a beanpole and a li’l lady like yerself, no problem.”

The man running the shop lent her a superb male yagu.

One day’s rental, including a charge for animal feed, came out to one silver coin. Mariela also paid a separate security deposit of two large silver coins that would be returned to her when she brought the yagu back.

The creature took an immediate liking to her once she offered him some vegetables from her feed bag. Smart guy.

They practiced riding him on the premises. Mariela could manage just fine, but Sieg had a real knack for it. Maybe it came down to a difference in reflexes. The yagu had an even temperament and trotted with a light step. Due to the conditions of the deposit, Mariela could rent only one; but even if she’d rented two, she might not have been able to keep up with Sieg.

Mariela sat in front, and the two of them rode toward the north gate. The Labyrinth City had eight gates—the four in the north, south, east, and west were all so narrow that a single yagu could barely fit through. The gates were built this way to keep monsters out while still allowing city inhabitants to hunt or get to their fields or harvest nearby. Passing through these four gates was inconvenient, but because they weren’t meant for trade, inspections finished quickly.

The sentinel stopped them, since they were unfamiliar faces, but when Mariela showed him the contents of her rucksack and told him they were going out gathering, he cautioned, “We’re a long way from the Fell Forest, but there are still monsters out there, so be careful,” before sending them on their way. He was a kind man.

After passing through the north gate, they steered the yagu slightly northwest. The northern side of the Labyrinth City was suitable for grazing with its small number of rivers and many shrubs. On the northwest side, a lot of rivers flowed down from the mountain range, and farmland extended far and wide. After traveling north along a river, they reached the forest. It was a normal one and much sparser throughout than the Fell Forest, but low-level monsters appeared once in a while, so Mariela and Sieg needed to be cautious.

But then, the pair had used a monster-warding potion, so they could operate safely here.

“Lady Mariela.” Sieg glanced behind them.

“Ahhh, I knew it. He followed us after all.”

She figured it was probably Lynx. They were on the verge of a major business deal, so it wouldn’t be strange to have someone keeping an eye on her already.

I don’t really want people to know where we’re going today. Sorry, Lynx.

She stopped the yagu and pulled several scraps of paper out of her pouch. After feeding three of them to the animal, she passed the rest to Sieg. She had drawn them yesterday after her nap.

“These are charged with magic. Hold on to them until I say otherwise.”

She urged the yagu onward again.

Their mount proceeded unhindered through the forest, as if the trees themselves were avoiding him. The three figures—Sieg, Mariela, and the yagu—began to fade, almost melting into the scenery as their presence quickly grew indistinguishable from the surrounding trees.

Swish, swish. They smoothly glided past the trees—or maybe the trees were gliding past them. Even Lynx, who typically had sharper eyes than a falcon, couldn’t keep track of them. Swish, swish. All signs that the pair was passing through had already vanished. With another swish, the shadow of a tree completely concealed them, rendering the group invisible.

“Gaaah, I lost ’em. Seriously, though? Man, that Sieg is somethin’ else. Wait, maybe it was Mariela who did it?”

Lynx’s shadow emerged from the trees. As the Black Iron Freight Corps’s scout, he was more than able to move through even the likes of the Fell Forest. He never thought he’d lose sight of Mariela’s group here. He scratched his head.

“Lieutenant Malraux’s gonna be mad at me, I bet. Ah well, I’m sure they’ll come back safely. I lent Sieg my knife for just this kinda situation.”

Lynx had been tailing them as an envoy, but there was nothing he could do about losing sight of them. They had the skill to give him the slip. He was a little worried that their weapons were no better than a trowel or a hatchet, but they’d probably be fine in this neck of the woods. He’d met Mariela wandering alone in the Fell Forest, and that was enough to tell him she had the ability to survive in her own way.

Lynx’s shadow vanished with a poof, and he returned to the Labyrinth City.

After losing Lynx, Mariela and Sieg exited the forest, crossed several rivers, and rode for probably close to an hour. They followed a riverbank upstream and finally arrived at a waterfall.

“We should be good now. He’s not following us anymore, right?”

Mariela had no reconnaissance ability, so it was really just a guess.

“Yes. It looks like we shook him off, but what are these?”

Sieg released the reins and held out the crumpled scraps of paper in his hand. His sweaty palms had dampened the paper and blurred the ink, but it was still apparent they’d been inscribed with some kinds of shapes.

“Ah, those are Magic Circles of Forest’s Welcome, Obfuscation, and Delusion.”

Forest’s Welcome made it easy to move through the forest without getting tripped up by branches or brambles. Obfuscation, as the name implied, isolated your presence and magic power to make you disappear, and by using it in tandem with Delusion, you could evade most pursuers and monsters with ease. Even experienced hunters learned these sorts of techniques, so they couldn’t really be classified as “skills.”

Some beasts were especially immune no matter how many monster-warding potions you used. Even in the middle of town, there were bad people who would come after young ladies out all by their lonesome. Mariela had sewn several magic circles into her cloak to keep such riffraff at bay.

These magic circles were said to be the legacy of an ancient civilization, and even two hundred years ago, more than half of them had been forgotten. Although it was typical to choose the quality of the materials based on the effect, anyone could benefit from a magic circle just by drawing it with magical gem dust dissolved in ink, so it was convenient. However, if the drawing wasn’t complete, it wouldn’t activate, and one crooked line would keep it from working properly.

No matter how well someone could draw, at the end of the day, they were human. If it was crooked in any way, you wouldn’t get the full effect. That said, even half the full effect was more than satisfactory, and copies of the originals themselves usually wouldn’t activate. The original could be copied only by using Transcription, so you could compensate with other skills or magic like Mariela did. Depending on a person’s training, some magic circles couldn’t be inherited, and there was nothing to be done about that.

The original, perfect magic circles were recorded only in the Akashic records.

The few circles passed down by word of mouth that still existed were ones like those engraved on potion vials to prevent degradation or like Sieg’s brand from the Contract of Servitude. But even those weren’t perfect; that was why the effects of Antidegradation were delayed, and a Contract of Servitude showed results only when combined with contract skills. Subordination magic could be quite dangerous depending on the spell, but it was fully effective only if both parties participated—which was extremely fortuitous, in its own way.

On the other hand, the study of the shapes engraved in magic circles had continued since long ago, and people known as magical researchers had been creating a variety of magical tools from the results of such research.

“Magic circles… I heard their art had been lost.”

Mariela and Sieg had tied up the yagu in an open area near the waterfall and were about to enjoy the breakfast that had been packed for them: two scrumptious-looking ham and vegetable baguette sandwiches.

“Well, see, my master was a high-level appraiser. I couldn’t forget all these magic circles if I wanted to.”

Mariela’s master had been incredible—able not only to pull information from the Akashic records using a high-level Appraisal skill but also to use magic. Alchemic skills, too, of course.

Genius didn’t even cover it; superhuman would be a better word. Conversely, the clumsier-than-average Mariela had a knack for getting herself into life-threatening situations. It went beyond common sense—or indeed, even the bounds of what could be accounted for by personality and behavior. She had never once experienced combat.

Considering her master’s abilities, this wasn’t the kind of person who lived in a cramped cottage in the Fell Forest and took on an apprentice like Mariela who had no skills besides alchemy. Or maybe that was just another eccentricity.

Mariela had even been forced to memorize magic circles on a whim. “Your own stupidity might be the death of you, so I’m going to teach you something useful,” her master had said, then called her over and placed a hand on her head. Young Mariela expected a pat, but then came the cry “Imprint!” and a magic circle was burned directly into her mind. It was only momentary, yet even now, she still remembered the incredible pain.

From that point on, Mariela was extremely wary of these “pats.” Even then, there was one day her master ruffled her hair and praised her, beaming from ear to ear: “Ohhh, you did it, Mariela. Wonderful. So smart.” The next instant: “You let your guard down! Imprint!” And that was how Mariela ended up being forced to learn so many magic circles. She had no doubt this was half for her master’s own enjoyment; as she writhed on the floor screaming “GYAAAAH!!” her master pointed and roared with laughter.

Worst of all was the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation. It involved so many complicated processes that she thought it might just incinerate her brain. This time, her master provided an explanation for a change before casting Imprint, wearing a strange expression.

“By this point, you’ve been imprinted with so many magic circles that you’ve likely built up a tolerance. This one, however, will hurt a little more than the rest.”

And so on and so forth. Mariela blinked in surprise and wondered if maybe the previous Imprints had all just been for kicks. Every magic circle she’d learned had proved valuable, and she was extremely grateful, but she’d always thought it had been more for entertainment purposes.

With a terse look, her master continued. “When you make this magic circle, your training will be complete,” to which Mariela obediently replied, “I understand.”

She didn’t want to remember the intense pain from the Imprint of the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation. It was so bad that it had knocked her out for around three days. When she finally came to, there were several potion vials scattered around the bed; she thought she was dying. “You overslept,” her master said with puffy and bloodshot eyes; the task of nursing Mariela back to health had not allowed for sleep. Her master wasn’t easy to read, but Mariela could tell. The pair had known each other for a long time.

Simply memorizing a magic circle wasn’t enough to use it. It wouldn’t activate unless drawn exactly like the original, so the next step was simply steady, repetitive practice. Mariela had no special talent, but you could say earnest perseverance was her forte. And yet, the Magic Circle of Suspended Animation was dreadful. Not only did its materials cost a lot of money, but it was large and complex. She continued to draw it in spare moments of her busy daily life, and finally, she completed two of them for her graduation assignment.

After inspecting the assigned magic circles, her master informed her, “You’ve graduated. Well done.” Mariela was thirteen.

It was such an emotional moment that she had suddenly burst into tears. “Fank you sho mutch!” she had managed through sobs, her master comfortingly patting her as if she were a small child.

There, there. Pat, pat. Ruffle, ruffle.

“Carelessness is the greatest enemy! Imprint!”

“Eh?!”

02

“Damn you, Master…” All this reminiscing somehow made Mariela angry. She tore into her baguette. “That last Imprint was so intense that I was out cold for maybe a day, and when I woke up, I was alone.”

Mariela’s master had left a letter behind before disappearing. In it were a few scrawled notes, telling her the completed Magic Circle of Suspended Animation was payment for the last Imprint. The cottage is yours now, a graduation present, so use it wisely. And don’t forget about the magic circle in the cellar.

“It’s because of my master that I was able to survive the Stampede—actually, all the knowledge I’ve used to make it this far was because of my master. I should be thankful, but, like…how do I put it—I’m still kinda peeved.”

Master may have been reckless, but I still have many happy memories of our time together. I was always incredibly grateful for that, and yet, all of a sudden Master just vanished. I even left that part of the bedroom untouched on the off chance we might suddenly be reunited one day.

“It’s been two hundred years by now…,” she muttered while gazing at the water’s surface. Leaves from the trees gently fluttered down and were carried by the current through the rocky gaps in the riverbed. Just when it seemed as if several of the leaves would twirl their way through together, the water swept them downstream as if to wash them away. Only one leaf remained caught between the rocks, and even if it were swept up by the current now, it probably couldn’t catch up with the others it had only just met moments ago. Mariela felt it was a metaphor for her own life, having been left behind in an era two hundred years past. She could never again see the people she’d met back then.

“I’m sure…you got through to your master.” Sieg had a very gentle look on his face as he spoke.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. Gotta consider the source, after all.”

She’d always wanted to convey her gratitude. Although she couldn’t express it with words, there was no way someone as incredible as her master didn’t know.

“Then, Lady Mariela, you’re…an alchemist who survived…the Stampede.”

“Yeah. It’s a secret.”

“Of course.”

She particularly wanted to keep secret the part about how she slept for two hundred years after the lantern light consumed all the cellar’s oxygen. That was embarrassing. As these thoughts crossed her mind, a new leaf drifted between the rocks she was gazing at. It rolled up with the single leaf that had been left behind, and together they were carried downstream.

“All right, we’ve finished breakfast, so let’s get to work right away.”

Mariela stood up with a hup and picked out some rocks in the vicinity. After watching her example, Sieg helped, too, and together they made a small stove. There was a notch in the top for inserting a vessel to be heated.

The stove was rather bulky for its size. She filled in the gaps among the stones with mud from the forest and dried it with Dehydrate, then removed the crucible from the hodgepodge box. After leaning the crucible atop the stove at a slight tilt to face the front and surrounding it with more stones, she felt the whole thing began to look more like a kiln.

Between the two of them, the work took hardly any time at all. With the stove finished, Mariela had Sieg take the yagu to gather firewood.

Meanwhile, Mariela threw off her cloak, shoes, and pouch; took the burlap bags and the trowel; and headed for the top of the waterfall.

It was a large waterfall, about five Captain Dicks tall—and Captain Dick was a tall man. From a distance, it looked as if it had a single break, but it actually had two. A slightly open break was at the height where Captain Dick’s hands would be if he raised them in a hearty cheer. Imagining the captain in such a pose made Mariela burst out laughing.

At the top of the waterfall was a mass of large boulders piled on top of one another.

“Oh, good, it’s still there.”

Between some large, apparently fallen boulders right next to the waterfall and the waterfall’s rocky mountain was a narrow gap just barely wide enough for Mariela to squeeze through. Within, the space widened a bit, and the ground sloped upward. The innermost wall had protrusions at irregular intervals that served as footholds to climb to the waterfall’s break.

Water droplets bounced off the break above and created a constant rain in the gap, and moss grew densely both on the walls and at her feet.

“Whoaaa! Jackpot! It’s had two hundred years to spread, after all.”

This faintly pink-tipped moss was called planada moss. It was a rare plant with an extremely slow growth rate that required clean water and minimal sunshine. Planada moss was said to reduce accumulated fatigue and restore a shortened life span. Although it sold for a lot of money, it was rarely seen on the market, hence why this place was a secret. Mariela would carefully safeguard the portion of the gathered moss she didn’t end up using.

After collecting the moss within reach and putting it in a burlap bag, she pushed the bag out through the gap.

The rocks she’d cleared moss from were at the right height and arranged in such a way that she could climb them.

After climbing carefully so as not to slip, she emerged at one of the waterfall’s breaks.

“Ooh, there’s a ton over here, too!”

You wouldn’t know it by looking from below, but the break had a wide space behind it, and at her feet were large piles of white sand—the ideal material for making potion vials.

Since the era of the Citadel City, this had been a place where Mariela could gather good-quality sand for potion vials. However, given that sand was a naturally occurring material, it contained some impurities. To refine the sand into glass for potion vials, these impurities could be sifted out with specialized devices or melted down by adding various sorts of auxiliary materials.

With alchemic skills, it was possible to create glass with even a simple stove like the one Mariela made, but the quality would only be as good as the materials used to make it.

This spot boasted the highest-quality sand, and when Mariela had first discovered it after coming here to gather planada moss, it was as if she’d stumbled onto a massive treasure trove. The discovery had her jumping with joy. She didn’t know why, but out of all the kinds of rocks and sand that flowed down from the waterfall, this break was the only place that had the type of sand suitable for potion vials.

Not enough sand had accumulated here over the past two hundred years for it to be considered a quarry, but it was more than enough for Mariela’s individual use.

Despite the slight distance from the waterfall, a large amount of water still sprayed into the sand piles. It was a bit cold for the season, and Mariela’s hair and clothes were soaked in no time. Plus, the waterfall’s spray came with the occasional pebble.

Ow, ow, another rock. Ugh. I need this for potion vials—just hang in there; grin and bear it.

The trowel crunched through the sand as she scooped it up and put it in a burlap sack.

After collecting about as much as she could carry down with her, she tied the bag shut and hefted it onto her back.

“Ugh… So heavy. I put in a bit too much.”

“Lady Mariela.”

With perfect timing, Sieg appeared. She wondered how he got through that tiny gap. No matter how thin he was, he had a fairly stocky build. That gap didn’t seem like something he could squeeze through.

“Huh? You brought the yagu, too? How?”

She’d turned around to see Sieg riding the animal.

Apparently, when she’d dropped the bag of planada moss, he’d heard the sound from above and rode the yagu up the waterfall.

Incidentally, yagus loved cliffs. Mariela thought it was quite a sheer cliff and didn’t have sufficient footholds, but the yagu was snorting happily and seemed as if it wanted to climb more.

She calmed the excited creature and had him carry the bag of sand down to the stove.

With Sieg and the bag in tow, the yagu kicked off the wall with a clack and descended the waterfall. The creature was amazing, but his handler, Sieg, was pretty amazing himself. The two of them shortly returned, and this time, Mariela rode down with them. The waterfall break itself was only as high as where Captain Dick’s hands would be if he raised them in a hearty cheer, but adding the yagu’s height to that made it a scary descent. Mariela let out a shriek as she clung to the animal, and when they dismounted, the yagu snorted in laughter.

Firewood had been piled up next to the stove and dried with magic. A fire was already going inside.

Why did Lady Mariela take the trowel and let herself get soaked doing all that hard labor when she has male help like me…?

“Whew, that felt good. I think I needed to move around.” As Mariela talked, Sieg led her to the fire. Summer was already over, but she looked like a kid who couldn’t get enough of splashing around in the water.

“I will…go gather the sand, so please…dry your clothes.”

After spreading the sand on a flat rock near the stove, Sieg took the empty burlap bag and climbed back up to the sand piles once again.

“Dehydrate. And Dehydrate.”

Mariela dried herself and the sand, then put her discarded cloak and shoes back on.

She took several materials out of the rucksack Sieg had left: trona crystals she’d bought from Ghark, a white powder from the hodgepodge box that had more than half solidified, and small metallic beads. Plus some powdered magical gems as well.

The white powder was lum stones that had been neglected for a long time, causing them to react with particles in the air and render them useless in their current state.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Pulverize, Ignite.”

Mariela heated the powder to a temperature far hotter than boiling water but cooler than a candle’s flame.

She then scraped down a proportionate amount of trona crystals for the lum stones and heated them in the same fashion.

Next came the sand.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Pulverize, Drops of Life, Anchor, Coalesce.”

After crushing the dried sand and infusing it with Drops of Life, she mixed it with the processed lum stones and trona crystals, as well as the magical gem dust. With that, the materials were ready.

The preparations were complete. She wouldn’t be able to take a break after she started the next part, so although it was a bit early, she decided to have lunch.

Sieg returned not long after with two burlap bags filled to bursting with sand piled on the yagu. He had also brought more while she was preparing the materials, so in all there were just under five bags full. It was so much sand that she didn’t have enough lum stones for it.

Lunch was orc meat cutlet sandwiches. The sauce had a good heap of mustard mixed in, giving it a delicious kick. Mariela was glad the weather was so nice; there was something utterly relaxing about eating a boxed lunch near the waterfall while listening to the chatter of birds. She wanted to take a long nap after finishing lunch, but she couldn’t do that—there were vials to make through the evening.

She dried the sand Sieg had brought and finished processing it up to the mixing step. All the lum stones had been used; she wondered if she’d always been able to process such a large quantity.

“All that’s left now is the tempering, so you can take it easy, Sieg.”

Sieg still seemed to want to observe her and learn; he was watching from some distance away. The yagu should have merely been getting a drink of water, but he was watching Mariela get to work, too, for whatever reason.

She put one measure of the materials into the crucible through the slot in the stove. Since concentrated hot air would be pouring out of it, naturally she didn’t insert them by hand, instead using Form Transmutation Vessel.

Though the firewood in the stove was burning with considerable heat, sand couldn’t melt at this temperature. She needed to raise the temperature more, but with alchemic skills she could do so only by about the equivalent of a candle’s heat, and that wouldn’t be enough to melt the sand.

Next, she took out the metallic beads and added them to the fire.

“Spark.”

She used alchemic skills to burn the beads by blowing oxygen from the air and magic power into them. Then, with a crackling sound, the beads began to glow in a variety of colors—first red, then orange, then green.

“Come forth, spirit of flames!”

She tossed the scraps of paper with magic circles written on them into the fire. Anyone with skills related to spirits, such as spirit magic or the ability to harness their power, can summon them with an incantation. Since Mariela had neither of these abilities, she summoned one by offering magic circles, flame, and Spark. Then again, she wouldn’t be able to summon any impressive spirits with such paltry offerings.

The fire twisted and flickered before taking the form of a small lizard.

“A salamander? From a fire this small? That’s a rare sight.”

Salamanders were well-known fire spirits that by nature wouldn’t inhabit a small fire like this. They formed covenants with prestigious dwarves and lived in large furnaces. And here Mariela would have been more than satisfied if she’d only managed to summon a wisp.

The spirit gobbled the Spark with a loud chomp.

“Spark.”

Since the salamander seemed to be enjoying itself, she added more metallic beads and Spark, and the spirit swished its tail as it gobbled them all up.

“Say, Mr. Salamander. Think you could lend me some of your power?” Although the salamander didn’t understand human speech, Mariela tried asking anyway because she worried her measly Sparks wouldn’t convince the spirit to help her. In response, the fire burst with increased heat. It seemed the salamander was going to help.

The glass in the crucible rapidly began to melt.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Retrieve, Refrigerate, Process Potion Vials, Refrigerate.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Insert Ingredients, Stir.

“Spark.”

After taking out the melted glass, she put in the next batch of ingredients and stirred them. As they melted, she formed the glass into potion vials.

I knew a salamander’s power would be incredible. It must’ve put up a magical barrier to keep the heat from escaping, huh?

The barrier made her work a lot easier, but the salamander was melting the glass at a far quicker pace than a wisp would have, and Mariela barely had time to breathe.

The fire spirit seemed to consume a lot of fuel, as she frequently had to add more Spark. Without enough Spark, the thermal power decreased, which the salamander signaled by slapping its little tail up and down. The amount of magic power put into Spark was more important than the number of metallic beads, and the more power she put in, the more the salamander helped, fluttering its tail from side to side.

“We’re running out of firewood!”

It was almost gone, but Sieg added more before she could get too worked up.

“Thanks, Sieg. That’s a big help.”

Even the salamander twirled around in joy.

After making a certain number of low-, mid-, and high-grade potion vials, Mariela would allow the remaining glass to cool in lumps the size of one vial each rather than finishing them. Not that she was too busy; she just wasn’t up for the task of shaping them right now. Since shaping alone didn’t require this much heat, she would be able to manage with alchemic skills alone, even though it would consume a bit of magic power. Plus, carrying that many vials would be a pain.

Insert Ingredients, Spark, Dissolve, Add Firewood, Retrieve, Spark, Insert Ingredients, Spark, Dissolve, Add Firewood, Retrieve, Spark, Insert Ingredients, Spark, Dissolve, Spark, Retrieve…

Before she knew it, she’d used all the ingredients.

The sun was still high, so it hadn’t taken terribly long.

“Thank you, Mr. Salamander,” she said, then infused the remaining metallic beads with plenty of magical energy and crafted a Spark.

The salamander tilted its head as if asking, “It’s over already?” before swallowing the entire Spark in a single gulp.

“You’re amazing! We finished in no time. You really helped me out.”

If this area had been the domain of humans, Mariela might have been able to communicate directly with the salamander. She couldn’t talk to the beast-like creature, but its behavior was extremely adorable. If possible, she hoped they’d make glass together again.

Ching.

The salamander spit something from its mouth with a ptooey. Then, just as when it appeared, the fire spirit made the flames twist and flicker and finally go out.

“…A ring?”

The spirit had spit out a simple ring that shone in all the colors of the rainbow—likely forged by solidifying the metallic beads with Spark. Mariela couldn’t help but wonder exactly how the salamander had managed to get it so colorful, but such mysteries were typical of spirits. Perhaps if she wore the ring, the salamander would come to her aid again.

It fit perfectly on the middle finger of her right hand. The ring was quite lovely, and she wore it with much gratitude.

After the lined-up potion vials and glass lumps had completely hardened, they were cool to the touch, so Sieg packed them into burlap bags.

There were tons of them, enough to fill two bags to bursting. Altogether, they probably had somewhere over three hundred.

Something occurred to Mariela—her magical energy hadn’t gone down very much, even though she’d used so much to infuse the Sparks. Though a salamander consumed a lot more than a wisp, she’d never made this much before. She felt as if her magical energy had increased a lot while she’d been sleeping. Maybe she should buy appraisal paper and check next time she had a chance.

The sun was still high, but their baggage had increased more than she could have imagined. Sieg and Mariela loaded the yagu with two burlap bags stuffed with glass and a bag of planada moss. No matter how strong the creature was, making him carry two people on top of all that would be cruel.

She decided to harvest more items while they took their time going back.

People didn’t seem to come into this part of the forest; mushrooms, medicinal herbs, fruit, and more grew in abundance here. As she collected more and more on their way home, the herbs and materials tied together with vines formed a veritable mountain on the yagu’s back, and the sun had begun to set by the time they reached the Labyrinth City.

Sieg and Mariela briefly parted near the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion. After Sieg unloaded the baggage, he returned the yagu for her, while Mariela headed for Ghark’s Herbal Supplies to pick up the items she’d ordered.

The street was bustling with adventurers returning from the Labyrinth. Ghark’s shop was still open, and he handed over the medicinal herbs he’d gathered. Although he tried to conceal them with his sleeve, she noticed scratches on his arm. They may have been from gathering the herbs.

“Next time I’ll bring some supereffective ointment for you. Thanks for the herbs!”

“I’ll be expectin’ yer ordinary medicine.”

After their short exchange, she left the shop.

A group of what appeared to be adventurers had been drawn to a restaurant that gave off a delicious smell.

They probably had a healer among them, too. She hadn’t noticed anyone with serious injuries, but she figured some must have had minor cuts and scrapes like Ghark’s, while others, like ailing civilians, needed some “supereffective medicine” themselves.

I wonder if I should open an apothecary?

As she mulled these things over, Mariela returned to the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion.

03

She’d gotten back to the Yagu Drawbridge Pavilion before Sieg. Since he’d already put the baggage in their room, he should be back soon after returning the yagu. As Mariela waited at the counter, one of the inn’s shopgirls approached her.

“Say, sweetie, you’re a chemist, right? Wouldja sell us some medicine?”

The lady was around the same age as Mariela, or perhaps a little older. Although not to the same extreme as Amber, she was voluptuous enough that Mariela couldn’t even compare to her.

“There’s gonna be a Labyrinth expedition soon, and we’ll be getting a lot of business afterward. We wanna prepare ahead of time, but all the shops everywhere are low on stock.”

In the busy season, the number of customers increased: adventurers riled up from battling monsters, spendthrifts who would get blackout drunk and become violent—and they were all armed with weapons. Dealing with such customers could easily escalate to the point that medical intervention became necessary. Although the inn’s female staff always treated their guests with the utmost cheer, they weren’t free to do as they pleased, so healing magic wasn’t always an option. There weren’t many clinics open in the middle of the night when adventurers were wallowing in their drinks. The inn should have had potions for times like these, but no one could get potions in the Labyrinth City.

Hence why the inn tried to stock medicine even though it was less effective than potions. However, before an expedition, apothecaries gave priority to adventurers needing salves, incense, and smoke balls, and as a result, they put the staff’s medicine orders on the back burner.

“The owner here’s a kind man, you see, and he’ll provide the necessary funds. We’ll pay you fairly, so won’t you sell some to us?”

Mariela’s feelings were indescribable. The only available medicine was low quality, and even then, the supply wasn’t enough. And there were people like slaves who couldn’t buy medicine themselves even if they needed it. Mariela knew all this, but it hadn’t really hit home until just now.

“What’s the matter?”

When Mariela gave no response, Amber appeared.

“Oh, sorry, Amber. Looks like I was askin’ for a bit much.”

“Honestly. And after Mr. Malraux asked us to take good care of her, too. Ela, I’m sorry she put you on the spot. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“No, I’m sorry, too. I’ll make the medicine. Just tell me what you need.”

“Really? That’d be great!”

“Thanks, Ela.”

Mariela couldn’t do much. She didn’t understand anything about the present time or what had happened over the past two hundred years. Even so, Amber and the others were always so kind to her. Now they wanted medicine.

I’ll make the best medicine possible without giving away that I can make potions.

Since there was work here, it seemed as if she’d be able to carve out a place to belong again.

“I’m back.”

Sieg had returned. He held the deposit of two large silver coins out to Mariela. She took only one, leaving the other in his hand.

“Keep it. Use it for whatever you need. Oh, but I’ll buy stuff like changes of clothes and everyday necessities separately. It won’t be until the day after tomorrow, though, so just hang in there until then.”

Sieg looked very uncomfortable. Of course he would. One large silver coin could buy him several things, but it wasn’t an insignificant amount of money. Even though she told him to use it however he wanted, he couldn’t just do so at a moment’s notice. This was Mariela’s own self-satisfaction. She knew that. Even so, she wanted to give Sieg some kind of freedom.

“Keep it,” she repeated, and she clasped his hand holding the coin.

When they finished dinner, Mariela left Sieg and ascended the stairs to their room. Since she was going to take a bath, she told him to wait a little while before coming up.

She felt kind of down; times like these called for a good soak. Since she still had magical energy to spare, she dissolved a generous amount of Drops of Life in the hot water before submerging herself, just like the other day.

When she got out of the bath, she dried her hair, then refilled the bathtub with fresh water.

Sieg hadn’t returned yet, but she had an inkling as to why. When she opened the door, just as she’d thought, he was waiting out in the hall.

“…You can come in already.”

“Okay.”

He says that, but he’ll probably just end up waiting out there again tomorrow, thought Mariela.

“You take a bath, too, Sieg. There’s Drops of Life mixed in, and it’ll be good for you. Make sure you get a nice, long soak.” With that, Mariela shoved him into the bath, then quickly retrieved his clothes.

Laundry time! Sieg doesn’t have a spare change of clothes anyway. And he was outside all day today and sweating. I gotta wash these!

Since she didn’t know Sieg’s size, she’d bought only one of each piece of clothing other than underwear. He’d been wearing his shirt and pants for two days. Mariela grabbed her own clothes that needed washing and dashed out to the backyard. She tossed the garments into the tub at the watering hole and used lifestyle magic to fill it with water. After scrubbing them with soap, she changed out the water to rinse them.

“Transmutation Vessel, Centrifuge: Super Weak.”

After secretly using alchemy to evaporate the water, she rinsed the clothes again.

“Dehydrate.”

She dried them with lifestyle magic. Lifestyle magic also had Wash and Rinse spells, but both needed a tub, and the one at the watering hole was a little small. Producing the invisible vessel already required the use of magical energy and used up more than lifestyle magic.

When she returned to the room with the finished laundry, Sieg peeked out of the bathroom.

“Here are your clothes. I washed ’em for you. I’ll just put them over here.”

She left them in a spot he could reach and returned to the bedroom. After Sieg changed into them and came out, he had an extremely apologetic look on his face.

“Um, I’m sorry…”

So her washing his underwear made him uncomfortable, as she figured. But it was more efficient to do everything together, and the idea of him washing hers made her more embarrassed than anything else. Going forward, she’d let both of them wash their own.

There’s gonna be all sorts of issues cropping up with the two of us living together, she thought.

Before going to bed, she finished processing the materials she’d acquired that day.

First was removing the astringency from the apriore, a type of fruit encased in a tough outer shell. The insides were used as a base for mid-grade potions. However, apriore was incredibly astringent, and the more astringency left in it, the weaker its effects would be. There were other materials that could be used as a base for mid-grade potions, but apriore was the cheapest. Moreover, if you took about half a day to fully remove the astringency, it would be more effective than other materials, so Mariela always used it.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Fragmentize, Wind Power Separation.”

She crushed the apriore, removed the shell, and submerged it in hot water with a pinch of trona crystals. Since the apriore was fresh, it would turn out well if the astringency was removed overnight.

Next, the lund petioles. These were an expensive ingredient used for high-grade cure potions. At Ghark’s Herbal Supplies, the amount for a single potion was sixty silver coins; outside the Labyrinth City, it would probably cost only one. Out of all the medicinal herbs she purchased in this batch, the lund petioles were the costliest, followed by the nigill buds for healing Sieg’s leg. You could make only a single potion from one nigill bud, but one lund petiole would make twenty to twenty-five, so if you wanted a whole petiole, you’d be paying in large silver coins.

Lunds were plant-type monsters that inhabited poisonous swamps, and their petioles floated in the swamp water. A lund itself had low attack power, so instead it used swamp poison to catch approaching prey and drag it into the swamp for nutrients. The lund’s epithelium was normally venomous because of the environment, but its petioles had neutralizing tissue that could counteract a variety of poisons. Thanks to this tissue, lunds could live in all kinds of poisonous swamps.

Because these swamps were poisonous to touch, she asked Ghark how in the world people captured lunds, and apparently, they were reeled in like fish. You would swing a rod from a safe spot, and when a lund latched on, you’d pull it in. If you rinsed off the exterior poison and soaked it in clean water, the neutralizing tissue from the lund itself would completely eradicate the remaining venom. It surprised Mariela to hear there was such a method.

Lund petioles were peeled, and then only the interior neutralizing tissue was frozen. Raising the temperature damaged it, so it was dried while kept at the low temperature.

“Form Transmutation Vessel, Control Temperature, Pulverize, Decompress.”

By decompressing it at a low temperature, only the moisture sublimated, and the tissue dried little by little.

All that was left were the materials gathered today. She needed to wash the soil from the planada moss. Mariela decided to do that tomorrow in the backyard, and after processing the other materials collected in the forest, she was done for the day.

As Sieg was about to turn off the light, Mariela stopped him. “I’d like to keep the light on until I go to sleep,” she said. Last night she fell asleep thanks to the alcohol, but a dark room would probably still bring back memories of the Stampede.

It had been a very busy day; she traveled a long distance and even after she got back, she was doing laundry and processing materials. She should have been quite tired, but for some reason, her eyelids just wouldn’t stay shut.

“I had fun today,” Mariela said to Sieg.

“Yes… It was…a beautiful spot,” he replied as he sat in a chair. The long time spent as a slave had made him lose the feeling of “fun,” and to be honest, he still couldn’t remember what it felt like. However, Mariela seemed sad somehow, so he did his utmost to talk with her.

The yagu was fast. A ton of moss had grown. They’d gathered a lot of sand, and she’d made a lot of vials. She even saw a salamander for the first time. Mariela ran through the day’s events one by one as if to confirm they weren’t a dream but reality.

“Maybe I’ll open an apothecary…”

“I think…it would be a good way…to hide that you’re a Pact-Bearer, too.”

“Sieg, let’s open one…”

Before Sieg could reply, Mariela had fallen asleep. He couldn’t even fathom how she must have felt when she woke up, the past two hundred years having become almost like a dream.

“I’ll support you,” he answered in a low voice, and he turned the light down just a little so as not to disturb her sleep.

04

The next morning, Mariela woke up at the usual time. The same time she used to wake up two hundred years ago.

“Good morning,” Sieg said. He’d already changed his clothes. This was not the same as two hundred years ago.

Whoa, I slept like normal. What a relief…

She stretched and responded with her own “Good morning.” Then she continued. “Today I’m gonna loaf around as much as I want! Then I’m gonna make as many potions as I can! And then—I’m openin’ an apothecary!”

Mariela was in high spirits from the get-go. As soon as she finished breakfast, she would shut herself up in her room.

“Is there anything…I can help with…?” Sieg seemed restless without any work to do. He was fidgeting.

“Hmm. Nah, not really, so you go enjoy yourself!”

Just last night she’d invited him to open the apothecary with her, and now this morning she was full of beans and wanted to be left to her own devices. Perhaps confused by being told to “enjoy himself,” Sieg started to say, “I’ll do the laundry…” Understandable, considering he’d been expected to follow orders for who knows how long.

“No, I just did that, so nothing’s dirty. Oh, I know! I haven’t done anything with the planada moss I gathered yesterday. Could you do me a favor? Wash the soil off with well water rather than lifestyle magic. The roots contain nutrients as well, so do your best not to tear them off. And try not to wash away any of it, even the tiniest pieces. It’s very valuable.”

The moss truly was valuable, so she had figured she’d handle it herself. Instead, Mariela handed Sieg the bag of moss along with the appropriate tools, and he dutifully nodded before departing for the rear yard.

Mariela rolled up her sleeves, figuring she’d start with the low-grade potions.

She crafted monster-warding potions from daigis and bromominthra, low-grade heal potions from curique, and low-grade cure potions from jibkey leaves and tamamugy seeds. Making low-grade potions was easy, too. Apart from the tamamugy seeds, she had brought all these materials from her old house’s herb garden in the Fell Forest. Tamamugy seeds could also be grown in gardens and even gleaned from riverbanks, but they were harvested in autumn, so it was still a little early in the season for them. With no other choice, she used the ones she’d bought at Ghark’s Herbal Supplies.

The mid-grade items were next. The astringency was completely gone from the apriore she’d stocked up on yesterday, and everything seemed in good shape. Once she dried it and made it into powder, she dissolved Drops of Life into it and used alcohol for extraction. She also extracted the dried and powdered ogre dates with alcohol. After removing the residue, she soaked yurole flower buds until they changed color, then took them out. If they soaked for too long, they wouldn’t turn out right, so she focused on them to make absolutely sure she didn’t miss the timing. She extracted curique and calgoran in water mixed with Drops of Life. Mixing these three liquids together and condensing them produced mid-grade heal potions.

To make a mid-grade cure potion, you add jibkey leaves, tamamugy seeds, and fiorcus flower extract to those three liquids. However, the proportions and mixing process were different, so the end of the procedure wasn’t the same.

“It’s kinda annoying how long it takes to make a bunch of different potions at once. It’d be way easier if I could just make a whole bunch of the same kind.”

Even as she talked to herself, her hands didn’t stop.

Before she could make high-grade potions, she needed to engrave the vials.

She took lumine stones and magical gem dust out of the hodgepodge box and then creeper saplings and liquefied slime as well. She put just a fragment of a lumine stone and a little bit of liquefied slime into a vial coated with creeper mucus and shook it up. Adding magical gem dust turned it into ink for glass, but since this ink was dangerous, she made only the amount she needed. With the coated glass pen, she inscribed Magic Circles of Antidegradation on the vials.

Mariela cheerfully began to sing a little drawing song she made up on the spot. Not only was she incredibly off-key, she also cheated on some of the lyrics by singing “hum, hum, hum, hummm” here and there. It was rather silly that she’d forget the words to her own song, but there was no one around to point this out.

After a little time passed, the portion of glass covered in ink dissolved, and just the magical gem dust remained in the grooves. The final step was to use her alchemic skills to fill the magic circle engraving with the surrounding glass, and then it would be complete. Mariela grew more and more excited, crying out, “Done! Doooone! Aaaand doooone!” with every magic circle she drew.

“And nowww, for my final act!”

In the highest of spirits, she turned around and was about to pick up her next implement when she noticed Sieg standing in the doorway.

“How… H-h-h-how long have you been standing there?”

“Since around…‘hum, hum, hum, hummm’…”

He’d caught her in the most embarrassing moment possible.

The planada moss had been very carefully washed. That certainly must have taken him a long time, she thought—and then she realized something.

Noon had long since passed.

“Sorry, Sieg, you’re probably hungry, huh?”

She’d been so engrossed in potion-making that she’d forgotten about lunch. This sort of thing happened to Mariela all the time, but it must’ve been really hard on Sieg.

“I’m fine. I never…used to eat three meals a day…anyway.”

What a sad thing to hear. She wanted him to eat to his heart’s content from now on. When she looked at his face, she could see that even his cheeks were hollow.

“Huh? Did you shave?”

She hadn’t bought a knife yet, so this morning Sieg’s beard had grown a little, but now he’d come back all fresh-faced—literally and figuratively.

“Huh? Did something happen?”

“Yes. I met with Lynx… He said he would…lend me his short sword.”

Ah, sorry, that wasn’t very tactful. Also, thanks, Lynx.

Although she wanted to thank him, Lynx wasn’t in the restaurant. Apparently, he’d come only to eat lunch and had then gone back to work.

Lunch was an omelet stuffed with fresh ham and tricolored paprika and a crisp baguette. Because the omelet had so much in it, it was quite weighty. The saltiness of the fresh ham complemented the sweetness of the egg, and it was delicious.

After the somewhat late lunch, she still had high-grade potions to make. There was nothing left for her to ask Sieg to do. She remembered how fidgety and restless he had been this morning with no work.

“Sieg, I don’t have any more tasks for you today. Besides, you probably haven’t fully recovered yet, so I’d like you to take it easy…”

“My body is…quite all right. I’m doing some training. If you have any orders for me…I’ll come straightaway.”

Whoa. And just this morning he was trying to wash clothes that didn’t need washing. Maybe something really did happen.

It was a good change for sure, so after telling him “Don’t overdo it,” Mariela returned to the room.

I must repay Lady Mariela for everything she’s done for me…

Siegmund tightly gripped the short sword Lynx had lent him.

05

Siegmund was born in a remote village near the Fell Forest. His father was a hunter, and his mother passed away back when he was just a small child. Every once in a while, someone in his family was born with an otherworldly eye known as a Spirit Eye. Those who possessed it were blessed with sharp eyes and increased long-range accuracy, as well as Spirit Sight. This additional benefit allowed its user to see even the weakest of spirits if they so willed it. Although neither his father nor his grandfather had this sight, Siegmund possessed this power in his right eye.

The distance vision and long-range accuracy granted by a Spirit Eye was so incredible that Siegmund, just like those before him, could pinpoint his target’s vitals, and he became a well-known master archer at a young age.

“I’m doing this so you don’t grow up ashamed of your Spirit Eye.”

Siegmund’s father used his modest earnings to hire a teacher for his son’s education. As a result, the adolescent Siegmund was educated in reading, writing, mathematics, and etiquette, a rarity in his village. This knowledge, combined with his Spirit Eye, made him arrogant.

He began to believe he was an exceptional human being worthy of the Spirit Eye.

Siegmund’s father never realized his arrogance. Eventually, he was attacked and killed by a monster while out hunting. That may have been the beginning of his son’s misfortunes.

It’s a universal truth that young and talented men find empty, remote villages boring. After his father passed away, Siegmund left the village and became an adventurer in town. He formed a party with some of his peers, and together they defeated many monsters. For Siegmund with his Spirit Eye, the kind of monsters faced by elementary-level adventurers were hardly worthy opponents, and his party quickly rose in rank.

Practically every time he drew his bow, his fame, his income, and the number of women who flocked to him increased.

The idea that he was an exceptional man worthy of the Spirit Eye transformed into absolute confidence.

“And just who do you think got us to B Rank?”

Indeed, Siegmund was so powerful that not a single member of his group could refute him. There was no monster his arrows couldn’t penetrate—until they reached B Rank.

The relationship between Siegmund and his party members was not that of equals but rather like a dictator and his servants. They were an odd bunch, not just in terms of relationships but also in their individual strengths.

Looking at their combat prowess, there was Siegmund, who might have been in reach of A Rank, and then there was the rest of the party, who were around C Rank. The difference in abilities was plain to see, and the more they battled, the stronger and more arrogant Siegmund became. His party members had long since run out of patience with such a domineering man.

A wyvern was a small flying dragon subspecies with a venomous tail. Typically, these monsters weren’t a problem for B-Rank adventurers to handle. If the party’s vanguard distracted it while Siegmund destroyed its flying membranes to reduce its mobility, it would be no different from a crawling lizard. They could easily defeat it if they kept their distance, and that was what Siegmund had planned.

“E-eeek…!”

With a power level no greater than C Rank, the party’s shield shrank back and failed to keep the wyvern in check. Their teamwork was also in shambles, and people kept getting in the way of Siegmund’s arrows. In the end, the wyvern chose to target the least-armored member—Siegmund.

The wyvern’s armored hide was quite tough, and Siegmund’s arrows couldn’t bring down the approaching beast. He managed to kill it only when its mouth had opened wide to devour him and an arrow happened to pierce its jaw.

Siegmund didn’t know if he counted himself lucky or not. The price he paid was the loss of his Spirit Eye.

Without his Spirit Eye, no one offered to help him. His party members, who’d received B Rank benefits thanks to him, all left.

His fame turned to infamy as his former comrades dragged his name through the mud, and now that he was out of work, the ladies who had once found company with him were nowhere to be found. Due to his previous indulgences, there was no way he had enough money anymore, so he took the small amount he got from selling wyvern parts and traveled to the imperial capital.

That was where he could get a potion that restored lost body parts.

He paid off an informant and finally found the alchemist said to be able to make a special-grade specialized potion to heal his lost eye. The advance payment was ten gold coins, something Siegmund couldn’t provide even if he sold his bow, armor, and other possessions. However, if he could get back his Spirit Eye, that amount wasn’t unattainable. He borrowed money to be able to make the payment.

Once the aged, white-bearded alchemist received his payment, he and his apprentices created the potion. The apprentices used complex, expensive-looking magical tools Siegmund had never seen before to perform various tasks. The alchemist issued instructions one by one, mixed together the finished medicines, and cast a spell to finalize the concoction.

Siegmund took the completed potion. With this, he could get his Spirit Eye back at last. I’ll be in debt for a good while, but hey, all I need is a little bit of patience. That’s hardly an issue where I’m concerned.

He drained the vial of every last drop.

His Spirit Eye didn’t come back.

“You lied to me!”

Siegmund, shaking with anger and about to throw himself at the man, was restrained by a security guard. The aged alchemist looked at his missing right eye with curiosity.

“Was it by chance an otherworldly eye?” he asked. “A Spirit Eye, as its name implies, is an otherworldly eye bestowed by the spirits. It’s impossible to heal it unless you use a potion created in the region to which those spirits belong. Didn’t you know that?”

“I’m a B-Rank adventurer chosen by the Spirit Eye! You think I’m going to allow this?!” Siegmund screamed, but the old man merely mocked him.

“Oh-ho. How many B-Rank adventurers do you think are here in the imperial capital? No fewer than a hundred. Incidentally, there are three at S Rank and twelve at A Rank. Did you know? Including myself, there are only three alchemists in the capital who can make specialized potions and about ten who can make high-grade potions like these fellows. They match the number of S-Rank and A-Rank adventurers, respectively. So what can a person at B Rank possibly have to say?”

As Siegmund was dragged out of the room by a security guard with the same rank, the old alchemist added, “Someone with a rare gift like a Spirit Eye who rose no higher than B Rank is a fool.”

Siegmund was born in a village on the edge of the Fell Forest. Ever since the Kingdom of Endalsia was destroyed two hundred years ago, no new Alchemist Pact-Bearers were created in that region.

His Spirit Eye would never return to normal.

Finally realizing this fact, he ended up a debt laborer as collateral for his previous indulgences in alcohol and women.

Siegmund was then purchased by a merchant who had amassed a fortune through inhumane means. A deviant with a cruel disposition, he took pleasure from tormenting conceited youths like Siegmund and forcing them to submit.

Not even half a year had passed before Siegmund’s warped self-esteem had been completely beaten out of him. It was all he could do to cling to life through the harsh labor, incessant violence, humiliation, and starvation. If this period of his life ever came to an end, he could manage to survive. Eventually, something happened that heralded his days of misery would soon be over.

“I’m going to do business with the Labyrinth City.”

Hearing rumors of the Black Iron Freight Corps, which had become famous over the past several years, the merchant’s son began to talk about traveling through the Fell Forest. Ignoring his father’s protests, he headed into the forest accompanied by his slaves, who were given neither sturdy carriages nor sufficient weapons.

Maybe being attacked by a flock of black wolves within the first few hours would have been lucky. With heavy steps, Siegmund walked at the back of the line. How could he hold his own against any monsters with one old short sword?

He felt as if something was calling him. When he lifted his head, he saw something glowing faintly.

A forest spirit…?

He’d heard about them from his father: Unlike monsters, forest spirits were fond of people and would even help them. When Siegmund was still a child, he could see so many that the forest seemed to be overflowing with them, but thinking about it now, it seemed as though he hadn’t seen any in a long time.

The forest spirit appeared to be looking his way and beckoning to him. Instinctively, he left the line of slaves and stepped into the forest as the spirit called to him. Then it happened. A pack of black wolves attacked the merchant caravan.

With no combat training, the slaves had no hope of standing against the monsters. Their windpipes were torn from their throats before his eyes. The wolves destroyed the carriage and dragged out the merchant’s son. Thanks to the heavy armor only he was wearing, he was able to ward off fatal wounds, but his arm and leg guards were crushed, and he was bleeding. He kicked and struggled and screamed, but he probably wouldn’t last long.

Siegmund had to get out of there. He surveyed his surroundings. Because he’d left the line of slaves and followed the forest spirit, he’d escaped the black wolves’ initial attack. The beasts were busy devouring the fallen slaves and the merchant’s son, but the slaves had little meat on their bones. The wolves would soon finish their meal and find him.

The forest spirit gently lifted its arm and pointed. He looked where it had indicated and saw a raptor with only minor wounds tied to the carriage, unable to escape. He rushed over and cut off its yoke with his short sword, then mounted it. As he passed by the merchant’s son, he hauled him up onto the raptor’s back.

If Siegmund returned alone, his life would probably be forfeit. But if he saved the merchant’s son… The only reason he saved the man was out of self-interest.

Robbed of their prey, the black wolves gave chase. Siegmund clung to the bareback raptor and spurred it toward the forest exit. He swung his short sword to try to cut down the wolves that threw themselves at him, but he had no knowledge of how to wield a blade, and his raptor mount was unstable. Instead of landing any blows on the wolves, he was bitten.

He almost dropped the sword, but he managed to grab it with his left hand and stab it into the wolf gripping his right arm.

“AWOO!”

He shook one off, but several more still chased them. The raptor galloped on, foam dripping from its mouth. The strength was gone from Siegmund’s right arm. He clung to the raptor with his entire body. When he looked up at the scenery rushing past, he saw a faint light veering to the right of the road.

It was as good a way as any, so he hastened the raptor after the spirit.

The black wolves were getting closer and closer, and one following from the left sank its teeth into his calf. When he shook it to get the wolf off, the flesh tore.

“Gaaah!”

He almost lost consciousness from the burning pain. Blood dripping from a wound would send the black wolves into a frenzy. He had no time to stop the bleeding with normal measures.

“Fire.”

He burned his own leg. Normally, he was forbidden to freely use magic because he was supposed to use it all for the benefit of the merchant. The smell of burnt flesh and the intense pain turned his vision pure white.

The wolves leaped at them again. As he was resigning himself to his fate, the distance between him and the wolves suddenly widened.

A sacred tree?

He saw a young sapling budding in stark contrast to the rest of the forest.

Sacred trees were holy trees that warded off monsters; they were said to be the saplings of the World Tree that grew in some far-off place. They grew slower than other trees and withered if planted by human hands. No one knew exactly how they propagated, but even in places thick with miasma like the Fell Forest, they grew unseen by human eyes. Any traveler who rested at the base of a sacred tree would find temporary respite and wouldn’t be attacked by monsters.

The black wolves surrounded the sapling from a distance and continued to pursue Siegmund and the merchant’s son. A third time, the forest spirit emerged and indicated a new location. No doubt about it—the spirit was showing him how to escape. In a daze, Siegmund followed the spirit’s directions and spurred the raptor on. The snarls of the approaching black wolves faded away. He had no idea how much time had passed.

The raptor carrying Siegmund and the merchant’s son made it out of the Fell Forest.

Siegmund saved the merchant’s son and somehow survived. However, the healer who had been summoned to treat the son used only the simplest healing magic on Siegmund, who was then tossed into the slave pen, which was even filthier than where they kept the livestock. Miasma from the black wolves’ fangs had entered his body; although his skin had been healed, the injuries underneath had not, and they continued to throb painfully. Between the pain and a high fever, Siegmund found himself in a hazy, semiconscious daze.

By the time he came to his senses, he realized he was no longer in the merchant’s slave pen. He was provided water and food—chilled millet, like livestock feed, but he would eat anything edible to stay alive. His body, weakened by high fever, couldn’t tolerate food, and he vomited, then ate, then vomited again.

“What a shabby man.” A well-dressed individual Siegmund didn’t recognize was regarding him as one might look at trash.

“The healer had told me of an abused debt laborer, so I took you into my custody, but you’re in even worse shape than a stray dog. I doubt you can even understand the words coming out of my mouth, but I have a duty to inform you. Listen up, you mutt. Your former master brought a claim against you. He said you failed to protect his son and allowed him to be injured, and that you ran away. Because of these crimes, you’re now a penal laborer.”

Siegmund’s mind wasn’t functioning due to the fever. He couldn’t understand what the man was saying. Yet, his dulled mind did understand that although he was still alive, that didn’t mean he’d been saved.

“If you don’t want to die, then act normal.”

Following the orders of someone appearing to be a slave trader, Siegmund somehow managed to stand.

A tall man was talking to the trader and buying all the slaves, including Siegmund, who wore nothing but a loincloth and had his hands bound in front of him. The men and women were then loaded into separate carriages covered in iron plates. He heard someone say, “It’s the Black Iron Freight Corps. They’re taking us to the Labyrinth City.”

After leaving the imperial capital, the slaves were taken out once a day for the first four days. That was when they relieved themselves, washed off with water magic, and were given yagu milk in place of food. The yagu milk contained crushed beans and grains, and while it didn’t taste good, it allowed Siegmund to regain a bit of his strength.

On the fifth day, they seemed to enter the Fell Forest. The iron carriages shook violently; monsters attacked day and night. The crew appeared to eliminate only the ones that got in their way. The carriages kept going without a break. Once a day, they stopped for a brief moment to make the slaves drink yagu milk from leather bags, but they weren’t given time to relieve themselves. The floor of the iron carriage sloped like a drain board, and everyone relieved themselves on it. The violent shaking and the sour smell emanating from the slaves never ceased, and the shaking carriage flung up the filth that collected under the drain board onto their heads.

In the pitch-black carriage, the constant sound of monster cries and the jolts signifying battle were joined by monster fangs and claws tearing at the exterior. In the frightening and extremely uncomfortable environment, his injuries and high fever dimmed his consciousness. When he thought he was going to lose his mind, he recalled the figure of the forest spirit. Or rather, the pale light of an ambiguous shape. That light managed to preserve Siegmund’s sanity but only just barely.

The cargo hold’s door opened. “Get out,” someone said, and they all disembarked from the carriage. They were standing for the first time in three days. A stone wall surrounded them, giving the impression of a prison.

They lined up single file and were splashed with water; then they were ordered to get washed. It wasn’t much water, more to suppress the smell than remove the filth, but he was grateful even for that. Next, a man arrived to examine them. He poked Siegmund in the leg with a pole, and Siegmund fell forward from the sharp pain. When he looked at his left leg, the one that had been bitten and cauterized, he saw it had turned black and swollen to nearly twice its original size.

Siegmund had no strength to resist when a different man grabbed his hair and forced him to stand so that his wounds and scars could be poked and prodded with a pole as part of an examination. He was in so much pain now that he could no longer do anything but moan.

Perhaps the inspection was over, because after a little while, a tall man and a portly one began to talk.

Meat shield, mines, a plaything. The men were discussing how even those fates were too good for him.

I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die; I don’t want to die; I don’t want to die.

Siegmund trembled.

No matter the pain and suffering and horror I’ve been through, I’m still alive. I don’t want to die. I want to live.

It was a lone girl who saved him from his fear, confusion, and darkest despair.

After they branded him with the symbol that designated him as the girl’s property, he was loaded into the carriage again.

“We’re here; get out.”

The man who took Siegmund out of the carriage told him, “This belongs to your master,” handed him a bundle of withered herbs, then indicated a watering hole and said, “Wash yourself there.”

Siegmund headed there as he was told. It seemed he could draw clean well water. He gulped it down until his belly was swollen. Even if it had been dirty, he would have had to drink it while he could, because he didn’t know how long it would be until he could have water again. He drew more into the tub and dumped it over his head. How many days had it been since he’d washed himself? His body was extremely cold, perhaps due to the fever, but the wounds on his leg and arm were hot, like burns. Siegmund washed himself quickly through the pain.

Hearing footsteps and voices, he peeked out from the shadow of the watering hole and saw the girl who’d become his new master. He hurriedly dried himself with his loincloth, picked up the bundle of withered herbs, and headed in her direction.

The merchant who’d been his previous master would get terribly angry if he was kept waiting and would have whipped him many times. Siegmund had washed himself as instructed and drunk water of his own accord, but the girl herself hadn’t ordered him to do these things. He wondered if she might be angry, but she made no mention of it and instead told him to come with her.

He followed her into a building that looked like an inn. She led him straight to a room. Every time he took a step, pain shot through his left leg as if the flesh were being torn off. Maybe because of the fever, it was painful to breathe, and he was close to losing consciousness, but the pain in his leg brought him back to reality.

Still. I’m still useless. I can’t let myself collapse. I have to appear fine so she’ll think I’m useful. They said I was worth two large silver coins—you can’t even buy a decent weapon at a price like that. Something so cheap isn’t worth repairing if it breaks. You’d just throw it away.

Siegmund pushed through the pain, clinging to consciousness, and painstakingly donned the appearance of tranquility as he followed behind the girl.

When they entered the room, she told him to sit down, but his left leg was so swollen, he couldn’t sit properly. The merchant probably would have said, “You can’t even sit?” and lashed him, but this girl said nothing, simply waiting for him to have a seat however he could.

“My name is Mariela. Would it be okay if I call you Sieg? Under the Contract of Servitude, you have to follow my orders. Is that right?”

So his new master’s name was Mariela.

“Yes. Please call me whatever name you like, Mistress. I will never forget the kindness you’ve shown in choosing someone unworthy like me. No matter what order you may give, I swear not to disobey. Please command me however you desire.”

Just as his former master had ordered him to countless times, Siegmund spoke as politely as possible and touched his forehead to the floor.

“Dog.” “Pig.” “Trash.” “Filth.” No matter what he was called, his answer was always “Yes” followed by “Please call me whatever name you like.”

Every time he was given a little bit of feed, worse than what livestock was given, he would say, over and over again, “Thank you for taking in a useless man with only one eye” and “I will never forget your kindness.”

He would repeatedly reply, “No matter what order you may give, I swear not to disobey. Please command me however you desire,” to orders with gratitude until he collapsed… No, even after collapsing.

He mustn’t lift his head. With his forehead touching the floor, he mustn’t move until his master left. Not unless he wanted to be whipped until he could no longer stand. He had learned this all too well under the merchant. However…

“Call me Mariela. Lift your head so I can get a good look at you.”

…his new master told him to show her his face. Fearfully, he lifted his head. Hair clung to his face. She wouldn’t be able to see it like that, so in a panic he brushed the hair upward.

His master lifted her hand, perhaps to strike him, and his body stiffened reflexively. Up to now, a hand raised toward him always meant him harm. However, this one moved slowly, truly slowly, and gently touched his face.

It’s soft. And cool. It feels nice…

She touched the place where his Spirit Eye used to be and traced the scars that remained there.

Her hand felt the fever he still had and his aching right arm. When she asked what had attacked him, he told her black wolves. Come to think of it, this was the first time a master had touched his injuries and asked what caused them. After carefully looking at the unsightly, discolored, and swollen leg, she said, “First, I’m going to wash your wounds.”

When Mariela, his master, poured the faintly glowing water she’d created on him, his fever and the pain from his aching wounds vanished—both in his arm and his leg. Siegmund could hardly believe such excruciating pain had simply disappeared. He’d seen the light emitting from this mysterious water before.

The girl was an Alchemist Pact-Bearer, even though such people in the Labyrinth City had supposedly died out.

The story of the Kingdom of Endalsia’s destruction had been handed down from generation to generation, almost like a fairy tale. It was a tragic story of heroes who stood against the swarm of monsters approaching the kingdom at the height of its glory. It was said the monsters devoured both the heroes and the citizens, then turned on one another. Finally, the remaining monster consumed the spirits of the ley lines, and then the Labyrinth was born. The people who’d escaped from the kingdom gathered in Endalsia once more but were no longer able to hear the spirits’ voices.

It had been about a hundred years since the last alchemists passed away, and none had materialized in this region—except for her.

It was just like the miracles you hear of in legends of old, Siegmund thought. And in that moment, to him, she was a miracle.

His body had been treated with contempt, like so much garbage, and yet she washed it with her own hands and gave him a potion. Then she gave him warm food and embraced him when he burst into tears from overwhelming emotion. He’d looked like an animal, and she cleaned him up and gave him human clothes. With her potions and her miracles, she healed his bitten leg and all the old wounds he’d accumulated.

He’d lost everything but, in turn, had gained an incredible master. A compassionate soul, a miracle made flesh and blood.

She ended up having to do the laundry because I’m a dunce. I should be the one doing chores like that. But she didn’t get angry; she simply gave me a job. She said this is a valuable ingredient. I have to wash it with the utmost care.

“Heeey, Sieg. Haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

“L-Lord Lynx.”

Lynx had appeared before Siegmund while he was washing the planada moss. Siegmund wondered when he’d gotten here, because he hadn’t noticed him at all.

“Just ‘Lynx’ is fine. That ‘lord’ stuff doesn’t suit me. More importantly, I see your leg’s been healed. That’s great!” Lynx’s narrowed eyes suddenly opened wide. “And with a specialized potion.”

“Wha—?!”

Lynx hadn’t been present during the business dealing between Lady Mariela and the Black Iron Freight Corps. No one else should know the details of the transaction except for Captain Dick and Lieutenant Malraux. How did Lynx…?

“The heck’re you doing, Sieg?” Lynx turned a sharp glare on Siegmund, who was visibly flustered. “You spilled the beans, you fool. See how you were just washing that stuff, all laid-back and not a care in the world? I coulda easily run off with Mariela just now.”

“Ah…” In a panic, Siegmund looked up at the corner room on the second floor and used detection magic to feel for her magical energy. She was fine. She was still there. He couldn’t sense anything suspicious nearby.

“I could do it if I tried. You can fight, yeah?”

“I… I lost my eye, and my bow is…” Siegmund offered a faltering excuse. Lynx heaved a big sigh, then grabbed Siegmund by the collar and launched into a rant.

“The hell d’you think you are? You saw all the crazy stuff Mariela can do, and you still don’t think she’s that special? Your armor’s full of chinks. She’s got all those valuable items with her—d’you just lack any sorta sense of danger? You can’t even see the crisis she’s in, and here ya are, just slackin’ off. Think she’s some kinda goddess? The messiah who saved your miserable life? That was a onetime deal, so you oughta take a good look with that one eye of yours. She’s just a regular ol’ happy-go-lucky doofus of a woman. You’re useless. I got all that info outta ya without breakin’ a sweat. What wouldja do if her secret got leaked and she became a target? Think your savior’s gonna rescue you again? Hell no! That’s your job! So, what? Can’t use a bow with just one eye? Dumbass. A bow don’t do a guard no good. Just use a different weapon. You can move that right hand now, yeah? You oughta think about how valuable the stuff she used to treat you was.”

With a thump, Lynx thrust his fist into Siegmund’s chest. That fist gripped a short sword.

“I’m gonna lend this to ya. Don’t tell me you can’t use it; just practice till ya can. How many people in this town d’you think died ’cause they didn’t have access to that kinda treatment? Practice for them, too. Practice till you’re pukin’ up blood. Don’t you dare take all this for granted!”

After forcing his short sword on Siegmund, Lynx disappeared through the rear entrance.

I… I almost…made a terrible mistake again…

He’d been trying to picture Mariela as a wonderful master, a miracle made flesh and blood—a special master. Or rather, perhaps he wanted to think he was a special person who’d met a special master. It’s true that she possessed an exceptional power, but she was just an ordinary girl.

Siegmund had already paid a price for his stupidity, and yet, he hadn’t learned from it at all.

But now I’ve realized it. Lynx set me straight.

He tightly gripped the short sword Lynx had thrust at him. This time, he mustn’t make a mistake. It was no lie to say he wanted to protect Mariela—she’d given him everything.

Siegmund at last faced the day with newfound positivity.