Part 1: Traveling West

The Magician Who Rose From Failure — LNCrawler · All chapters

Arcus and Sue walked together through one of the capital’s bazaars. The huge Louro River—a trade artery that cut through the city—bordered the market on one side, keeping it fed with goods of all stripes, from fresh food to daily necessities and nobles’ unwanted clothes to Seal Tools; as such, it was the largest of its kind in the capital. It was reminiscent of a European market, with simple, colorful stalls packed in close rows and boxes filled with fruit and vegetables. Vendors with their wares spread out on rugs and fast food stalls lay dotted around. The air was bright with life from the enthusiastic salespeople loudly advertising their goods to catch the interest of the passing consumers.

Much like the café and plaza where they studied magic, Arcus and Sue often came to this market together. They were here mainly for the food stalls, but at the same time they were always on the lookout for rare finds. There wasn’t anything fancy to be had downtown, but the price was right, and it tasted good to boot.

The crème de la crème was the capital’s famous duck sandwich. It consisted of fried duck meat coated in a classic gravy and sandwiched between huge steamed flour buns. It resembled Chinese food from the man’s world, but the western filling gave it an interesting twist. They were served as soon as the buns were steamed, and the insides were piping hot. As if the smell wasn’t appetizing enough, the brown sauce oozed temptingly out over the dry, white bun.

Sue stuffed her mouth as full as she could. “Mmph!” It was a muffled cry of satisfaction. Her euphoria was obvious from the huge smile on her face.

“You love those, huh?”

“Yup! Can’t go downtown without having a duck sandwich! Aah, this is heavenly!” Sue pulled another sandwich out of the bag and continued gorging. A girl of her standing probably didn’t have much opportunity to eat fast food like this. Each bite made her face light up with happiness. It wasn’t an exaggeration; the sandwiches were really that delicious.

While she fell into a drunken stupor from the aftertaste, Arcus glimpsed a trail of gravy dripping from the corner of her mouth. “Sue, you’ve got sauce on your face.”

“Huh? Where?”

“Right there.” Arcus tapped the corresponding spot on his own face. He knew Sue—she would go for the side he pointed at as though they were facing the same direction, and miss the spot completely. She always did, and it annoyed him, so he decided to grab a handkerchief and wipe it off himself.

Sue let out a surprised squeak.

“Stay still.”

“S-Sure...” Sue hunched her shoulders slightly, which was rare for her. She was probably embarrassed to confuse her left with her right. When Arcus was done, she thanked him quietly.

“No problem,” Arcus said, pocketing his handkerchief. He looked around at some of the other stalls. There was one selling eastern-style kebabs, and one selling western-style fruit juice. Just like the duck sandwich, there were several fast foods sold in the capital that seemed to mix eastern and western cuisines—possibly because the Crosellode family, Lainur’s founders, hailed from the east. When this region was still in the throes of war, they gathered several clans together to forge the kingdom. Eastern influences as a whole had also increased lately due to cultural exchange.

So, while the kingdom had a western foundation, there were spots here and there where cultures commingled. Food was probably the best example. Personally, Arcus lamented this world’s dearth of hamburgers.

One of the familiar stall owners called out to them enthusiastically. “Hey, Sue! On a date with your boyfriend again? You’re always so lovey-dovey together!”

“H-Hey! Arcus isn’t my boyfriend! Where did you get that idea from?!”

“If he’s not, how come you’re all over each other?”

“We’re not!”

“No? But he just wiped that sauce off your—”

Sue cut him off with a scream, waving her hands frantically in front of her. The stall owner just grinned at her reaction, making her even madder. Even the people around them were starting to grin in amusement at the situation. Arcus and Sue had become frequent targets of this sort of teasing. Sue used to unabashedly stick to Arcus like glue, but she had grown pricklier of late. She was outgrowing the tactless mindset typical of children. Once she had become more aware that they were friends and what that meant, she had started avoiding unnecessary physical contact. Arcus, meanwhile, missed her unbridled displays of affection.

“Why not take a look at what we have, Miss Sue? Some of these might interest you!”

“You said that last time, and all the stuff you showed me was weird!”

“Sue! We’ve got some good apples in! Take one.”

“Oh! Thanks!”

Sue was popular. No matter where she went, she was able to get on quickly with almost anyone. It must have been because of her cheerful and innocent nature. She also had a good sense of personal space. Most people were uncomfortable when others got too close, physically and mentally, but in Sue’s case, she seemed to know just how much space to give people, which might explain why she was so well-liked. It was strange, then, that Arcus seemed to be her only real friend, but he didn’t dwell too deeply on it.

To borrow a word from the man’s world, he would describe her as blessed with chutzpah. The word described her through and through—an ineffable charm she gave off that drew people in. That included Arcus, even as he analyzed her right then and there. She was one of those people who could found their own religion or land a leadership role wherever they applied. If she decided to step up and make a speech in the middle of the bazaar, everyone would surely stop and listen.

Is it just me, or is everyone around me ridiculously amazing in some way?

Arcus couldn’t help feeling distinctly average when he compared himself to his associates. The only thing that set him apart from them were the experiences and knowledge he had from the man’s world. Unlike the heroes from that world’s works of fiction, Arcus didn’t have any kind of special powers, and he only had as much aether as the next guy.

Sue, meanwhile, was exceptional. She had aether coming out of her ears, and some mysterious quality that seemed to make her magic far more powerful than anybody else’s. She was physically strong too; Arcus would have to be crazy to try comparing himself to her. The other day, he boasted of how much stronger he was thanks to his uncle’s daily training, to which Sue responded by challenging him to an arm wrestle.

He lost spectacularly.

Sue was inexplicably strong, and it wasn’t the kind of strength you could beat just by training a little harder. It was baffling where in those slender arms of hers she hid such power. In this world, there were those who possessed incredible strength as well as magicians. Life was unfair. The second you took pride in something, someone who could do it better would come along and crush that pride. The only option left was to despair.

Sue was now thirteen years old and attending the Royal Institute of Magic. It was a wonder she still managed to meet up with Arcus as much as she did. He had asked her whether she ought to be studying, but she said the only lectures she went to were Professor String’s. Apparently, the lectures that weren’t run by state magicians weren’t useful, and studying together with Arcus was much more valuable. It was likely because she had a magic tutor at home. Her tutor taught her all about magical history, grammar, and more, giving the institute’s lectures very little value to Sue.

That wasn’t to say the lectures themselves were bad. It was just that her studies with Arcus were more useful in the sense that she learned things there that she couldn’t anywhere else.

“So you’re done?” Arcus asked.

“Don’t blame me! The lecturers keep bringing in those weird dramatized texts! It’s totally unnecessary!”

“What, you mean creative stories ‘inspired’ by the original texts?”

“Yeah, them! They call them ‘interpretations’ just so they can force them in! It lowers your spells’ effectiveness, but you can use a ‘wider range,’ and they’re ‘easier to use’ too, so they end up teaching that stuff in lectures! And then they have the gall to call it education!”

“I’ve never seen you get mad like this.”

“Hey, I can get mad!” Sue grumbled and pouted.

She was right, though; there were several guides to the Ancient Chronicles which mixed in their authors’ opinions. To pick the right word for a spell, you needed to extract its meaning and the deeper intentions hidden within. That was why some authors read too deeply into the words, and ended up including overanalyzed conclusions in their writings. Lecturers would then likely teach those ideas as new discoveries rather than over-processed interpretations. They were absurd to anybody who studied the Ancient Chronicles directly from their source. Worse, Sue was now speaking of “stories.”

Despite the incident with the sauce, Sue was once again stuffing her face with a duck sandwich. As angry as she was, she still couldn’t help smiling once the delicious flavor hit her.

Sue was wearing her usual white cloak, paired with an outfit that was easy to move around in underneath. Her neat black hair rippled beautifully down her back, and her deep blue eyes shone with intermingled splashes of jade. Those eyes were wide now and sparkling with happiness, but Arcus knew they could narrow and turn piercing in an instant.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, nothing.” Arcus quickly looked away, but it seemed Sue thought he was staring at her face for a different reason.

“Want some, Arcus? You can have a small bite if you want.”

“That’s not very generous of you.”

“Fine, then you can’t have any!”

“Okay, I’ll have a small bite.”

“Here!”

Arcus bit into the sandwich Sue offered him, and immediately the rich flavor of duck spread through his mouth. The bun around it only emphasized the taste.

“It’s delicious.”

“I know, right?”

The two of them carried on strolling through the market, their conversation not getting much deeper than duck sandwiches. They didn’t come out to study magic today; Arcus had an errand to run. When he mentioned it to Sue, she insisted on coming along. Arcus’s errands were his top priority, and yet when Sue said she wanted to look around the bazaar, they ended up coming here first. Neither could tell whether that was because Arcus felt like being kind to her or because there was some invisible power imbalance in their relationship.

Arcus was bound for one of his regular haunts, a large vendor of materials for his aethometers and seals. The crown had commissioned him to produce even more aethometers, but for that he would need more Sorcerer’s Silver. He usually ordered materials from this particular shop, and he was here today to inquire after their stock.

“You’re completely out of Sorcerer’s Silver?” Arcus echoed what the clerk told him only moments after stepping inside.

The clerk lowered his head apologetically. “I’m afraid so, sir. We are completely sold out. I can only apologize for failing to meet your expectations when you are such a loyal customer.”

“But why have you sold out so suddenly? I thought I told you I’d need some.”

“You did, sir. Unfortunately, it’s a problem with the supplier.”

“The supplier?”

“Yes, sir. A short while ago, we received less than usual from our supplier. We were able to make do with what we had in stock already, but that sold out completely the other day.”

“You’ve been receiving less?”

“That’s right.”

It wasn’t unheard of for an item to be sold out. The question was how. Sorcerer’s Silver was an undeniably essential product, but you needed very little for seals, and the number of people who actually carved their own was limited. There was no reason demand for the material should outstrip supply. Arcus was mulling over the issue in his mind when the clerk spoke again.

“We’ve never had a problem like this with our Sorcerer’s Silver stocks before. I just can’t think of why this might have happened.”

“Maybe the production of the silver used to make it has decreased?”

“Not from what I’ve heard. They should be producing the same as always. However, I have also heard that there are a small number of retailers buying up the Sorcerer’s Silver at a high price from the wholesalers, leaving less for us.”

If there was no change in production or output, that had to be the reason. Someone was buying it first. That, or someone was throwing their weight around.

“Wouldn’t that make everyone complain though?” Arcus asked.

“Apparently noble folk are involved, so the wholesalers can’t put up much resistance.”

“Right...”

While it was true that meant there was less that could be done about it, it gave rise to another problem. Presumably the nobles in question were using aligned merchants to stockpile silver. What did they want with it?

“Do you know who’s involved exactly?”

“No one knows for sure, but I have heard rumors that it is Count Nadar’s work. They are nothing more than rumors, you understand.”

“Nadar?”

Count Porque Nadar held territory to the west, bordering the Gillis Empire. So it was small retailers with connections to him who were buying up Sorcerer’s Silver at a markup...

“Could he be buying it to preserve his military power?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much more than what I told you.”

“Hmm...”

The main reason to buy Sorcerer’s Silver was for making seals. It was an important military commodity—any military body would need enough Sorcerer’s Silver to engrave sufficient Seal Arms to outfit its soldiers.

“That doesn’t make sense. If that was his goal, he shouldn’t need so much that it creates a shortage...”

“We don’t know the details. Until the issue is solved, however, we won’t be able to restock very easily.”

Arcus’s only choice was probably to go above the store itself and exert pressure there. He was under a royal command to produce more aethometers. He suspected Craib or Godwald would be able to do something about it if he asked. That, of course, would take time—and might not be without its own hurdles. Arcus would need to get his hands on the silver he wanted before then.

“Where can I get some Sorcerer’s Silver?”

“I suggest you go west to Rustinell, where you will be able to purchase it directly. The lady there owns several silver mines in her own name, and they produce the Sorcerer’s Silver in that county as well.”

“Rustinell. I’ll ask Noah. Okay, thanks. I’ll give it a try.”

“You’re very welcome, sir. Thank you for your continued patronage.”

Only after they stepped out of the store did Sue open her mouth. “Someone’s buying up all the Sorcerer’s Silver?”

“Yeah. No clue why someone would do that, though.”

“The most likely explanation is that they need a lot of it for something, right?”

Indeed. Sorcerer’s Silver wasn’t cheap, so unlike salt or wheat, it wasn’t something you could stockpile easily. If military expansion wasn’t the goal, then the most likely objective was market manipulation; that was illegal and not an easy trick to pull off. The Surveillance Office would come sniffing around if you were too obvious. You’d be punished in an instant.

“Maybe he does just want to improve his military, then.”

Holding a border territory like Nadar’s took frequent, consistent displays of strength to intimidate your neighbors out of any plans to invade they might entertain. Improving your military was a good way to back up a strategy of deterrence. It was either that, or Nadar was playing catch-up with the bordering nations’ armies. Arcus was convinced that Nadar’s objective lay within his military rather than market manipulation. He explained his thoughts to Sue.

“Another possibility is that he’s selling it on to someone else.”

“Selling it on?”

“Yeah. I don’t mean someone else inside the country, but maybe to a different nation—one he’s got a good relationship with or something.”

“Huh. It’s not just people in our nation who’re after our materials.”

“Right! Nadar already trades in foreign currency, you know, like with the Empire.”

“The Gillis Empire? Is that allowed?”

“Depends, but trading in certain items is fine. It turns a profit, after all. There’s economic advantage to be had, too, depending on what you’re exporting. It also sets up a good relationship with the other nation, and even if it’s just superficial, it makes it harder for them to declare war on you. Oh, but trading in Sorcerer’s Silver’s illegal.”

“A deal with an enemy nation...”

The first thing that sprang to Arcus’s mind when he heard about hostile nations (likely because of his dream) was economic sanctions. The prospect that this count might be trading with the kingdom’s largest enemy boded ill.

“It’s necessary,” Sue said. “I mean, we’re at peace right now.”

A small spat between the Gillis Empire and Lainur broke out a few years ago, but there had been no major conflicts to speak of recently. While there were sometimes minor disputes between adjoining counties, the kingdom was generally at peace, just like Sue said.

“Let me ask you a question then, Arcus. This one’s for extra credit!”

Why she was suddenly speaking like a teacher, Arcus wasn’t sure.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a sigh. “Go ahead, ma’am.”

“I’ll take away points if you’re gonna be like that!”

“Oh no. What if I fail the class?” Arcus asked, his tone unconcerned.

“I’ll make you my slave temporarily!”

“No fair. This better be a question I can actually answer, then.”

“Oh, you just gave me an idea! Thanks!”

“You’re not welcome, so give it back!”

Sue was unpredictable at the best of times, so Arcus didn’t even want to imagine what she might make him do as her slave.

“Go on, then. What’s the question?”

“Why does Lainur maintain peace with the hostile Gillis Empire? Why does it need to? It’s not just ‘because we like peace.’ Nothing that pathetic.”

Arcus thought Sue must have had some very grandiose ideas about the kingdom if enjoying peace seemed beneath its dignity.

“Because we don’t wanna go to war, right?”

“Okay. And why don’t we wanna go to war?”

“It’d cause a lot of damage, I guess.”

“Fine, but the Empire wants to extend its territory into the southeast, which means it’s gonna try and advance on us one day. So what should Lainur do?”

Arcus was starting to see what she was getting at.

“At some point, the kingdom will be forced to fight with the Empire. Lainur will want to be powerful enough to stand up against it when that happens. That’s why it wants to keep the peace as long as possible, and to that end it can use trade and cultural exchange to keep up a superficial friendship. That’s why it wants the nobles on the border to maintain that ‘friendship’ as best they can.”

“You got it. Well done, Arcus.” Sue gave him a small round of applause.

Now the idea of Nadar striking a deal with the Empire made sense. It also meant that Lainur could get its hands on material and information from the enemy, which would be strategically vital.

“Doesn’t the whole thing with the Sorcerer’s Silver mean the kingdom’s policies are working then? But also, for the border territories where tensions run high, isn’t there a chance they might do something by accident to trigger a fight with the Empire?”

“That’s when nobles get moved somewhere else. They get replaced with another who has no relation to the enemy nation and who’s good at diplomacy. Then they’re the ones on the firing line. That new noble and everyone above him do their best to avoid war, and the accidental trigger doesn’t end up as such a big deal.”

“What a dirty trick...” Forcing a noble to move territories altogether seemed a little extreme. “Wouldn’t the noble complain?”

“Of course they’re not gonna be happy about it, but it’s better than war, right?”

“They wouldn’t really be able to say anything against the king either, I guess.”

It still came across as excessive to Arcus. In a feudal society where one’s land was everything, exchanging territories was almost forbidden. While it’d be no problem for a newer noble who had only just received their land, for one who had spent years cultivating it and governing its people with pride and affection, having it exchanged would cause dissatisfaction, to put it mildly. Arcus had no doubt that the nobles subject to such an order would complain, but that just went to show how imperative it was that the kingdom use such methods to buy time before the inevitable war.

“It’s not all bad. For example, their new place might be even better than the old one, or they could get an order in exchange for going along with it. Or the crown could just find an excuse to say the noble’s not suited for the position—maybe frame them for something—and then take the territory by force.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just downright tyranny, which is kinda scary to think about. Anyway, you’re saying that this is what Count Nadar has to put up with at the border?”

“You got it.”

“Okay, but what if the new noble they install is untrustworthy? That’d be really dangerous. I’m not accusing anyone of anything, but there’d be a risk of treason, wouldn’t there?”

Sue’s features stiffened suddenly. “That’s why there’s always a loyal martial house backing them, watching them constantly to make sure they don’t double-cross the kingdom. That makes it harder for them to try anything clever.”

“Threatened from the inside, huh?” Arcus didn’t know what to say. It was a little creepy.

Creepy, but effective. Betrayal meant bringing the enemy into your own country, but if that betrayal was foreseen, the fallout could be controlled, and nobles from nearby territories could move to surround the offender.

Arcus suddenly realized something. “You sure know a lot about this, Sue.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve read up all about it!”

“This is the kinda thing you can just read about?”

“Y-You can learn about anything by reading! Anyway, how come you know so much about this when you haven’t studied?!”

“Hey, I have stud—”

“Huh? What? Does the Raytheft house really have strategic guides like that? D’you know how bad that is?”

“Wh-What? Well...” Arcus faltered.

His knowledge of these matters mostly came from the books the man read. The man was the type to read a book only once before being done with it, and Arcus was the type to remember anything after only seeing it once. As long as the man read the information somewhere, it wasn’t difficult for Arcus to pick it out and store it.

“Anyway, what do you care?”

“Well, y’know. I’m nobility too.”

Arcus let it slide for now. “A deal with the Empire, huh?”

“I dunno if it’s true or not. It was just an idea.” It was then that Sue tensed up, and her tone grew cold again. “Either way, he’s buying way too much Sorcerer’s Silver. Something needs to be done about it.”

Arcus had seen this sharper side of hers before, and it usually came about without warning. It was like there was a chilling wind blowing about her which froze him down to the bone. Then she put her hand to her mouth and narrowed her eyes in thought. There was dignity in that pose which even an adult would find hard to replicate.

“I can smell rotten meat...” she murmured.

Her changing tone and demeanor were weird, but Arcus was more concerned with the matter at hand. “Something needs to be done?” he pressed.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“And what can you do?”

Sue suddenly looked up with a light of realization in her eyes. “Huh? Oh! C’mon Arcus, what kinda question is that?! Of course I can’t do anything! You’re such a prankster!” she laughed.

“Your dad’s a duke, though. You’ve gotta have some influence?”

“I’ve got nothing! Nothing at all!”

“Huh? What about those guys you had in the shadows when we were—”

“They were just, uh, our servants!” She let out another awkward laugh, clearly trying to lead Arcus off the trail.

As he often did, Arcus found himself deeply curious about who exactly this friend of his was. He learned during their time with Gown that she was a daughter of the Algucia Dukedom, and she didn’t make much of a secret that she had a group of attendants at her beck and call. Each new thing Arcus learned about her just made her more mysterious. Arcus gave her a suspicious look, to which she responded with a glare.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna squish your cheeks!”

“I was just thinking that you—hey! Quit it! Don’t touch my cheeks!”

“Aaah, they’re always so soft!”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this was how a lot of their interactions ended.

Rustinell. A territory in the west of Lainur, ruled by Louise Rustinell. As a mountainous region, it wasn’t suited for farming, but it did have an abundance of mines, disproportionately for silver. It was said that thirty percent of the silver used in Lainur came from Rustinell.

Arcus had saddled up and ridden out from the capital’s west gate, down the long, long road that led west and over a mountain, until he reached the very edges of the kingdom, where Rustinell waited. Needless to say, he was following the other day’s lead regarding his best shot at laying hands on a fresh batch of Sorcerer’s Silver. He had reported to the Guild and asked them to check with other companies, but none of them had enough to sell; they were waiting for more to be processed. Arcus had received a letter of authorization from the king to requisition the Sorcerer’s Silver he needed for the time being, as well as some funds for the journey, and set off.

His horse held a steady pace along the road. Noah and Cazzy accompanied him as usual, as well as a local guide he had hired to lead the way. Thanks to his uncle’s training, he was well used to horse riding; if for some reason he might need to cast a spell mid-gallop, he would be able to pull it off with ease.

Holding on to the horse’s reins, Arcus surveyed the peaceful surroundings. “I never thought I’d have to go all the way to the source just to get some Sorcerer’s Silver,” he muttered to himself.

“Silver has many applications—kitchenware, decorative plating, and coinage, just to give some of the more common examples,” said Noah.

“How come they’re letting it run short if it’s so important then? Just when we started mass production too,” Arcus grumbled.

After a long period of research, Arcus finally had a set plan for his tempered aether. He had already taught a select few magicians, bound by contract, how to create and use it. Everything needed to increase the mass production of tempered silver (as was its provisional name) even further had only just been put into place.

And now here they were without the raw materials to do it. While Arcus knew life wasn’t always smooth sailing, he felt he encountered choppy waters much more frequently than most.

Cazzy was cackling to himself quietly, as though he had no stake in the expedition. “Is it really that hard? The king’s makin’ you produce these things, so why can’t he just force ’em to hand over the silver?”

“W-Well, I mean, technically he could, but...”

“It might cause issues,” Noah finished.

Making a big show of using the king’s influence to obtain the silver would quickly spread news that the Crown was in need of the metal. It would rouse neighboring nations’ suspicions, prompting them to investigate what exactly Lainur needed that silver for. That, in turn, would risk them finding out about the aethometer. After discussing with the Guild, they decided it was best for Arcus to collect the silver he needed for now and claim that it was for a personal project.

Meanwhile, the Guild had looked into Porque Nadar; he was apparently hoarding silver, but the investigation had fared poorly so far. While they found he had bought in bulk until recently, he’d since stopped, causing a blip in the circulation. The question now was where the silver was going, but that wasn’t something Arcus needed to answer himself.

“This is gonna take forever.” Arcus stretched out his legs and leaned back in his saddle to look at the vivid blue sky.

Noah frowned at him. “Are you sure about that? It is a mere two weeks, including the trip back.”

“Yeah! That’s looong!”

Still, his attendants frowned at him like they couldn’t understand his complaint.

Knowing how fast the planes, trains, and automobiles from the man’s dream could get them there, two weeks inevitably seemed like a long time to Arcus. He was grateful for the guide’s intermittent friendly remarks, which distracted from the monotony of the journey. He’d been guiding people down this road for twenty years, and it showed in the various stories he shared with them.

Arcus looked up at the sun, shielding his face with a hand. “I hate the sun.”

“Yeah, it’s real hot today.”

“Do make sure you’re keeping cool, Master Arcus.”

“Man, I miss air conditioning.” Arcus flopped down on top of his horse.

Cazzy looked concerned. “Hey, ya can’t let your guard down like that, no matter how peaceful it seems.”

“Indeed. Things will only get more perilous from this point onward.”

“How come?”

“Most of the dangers we may face will be direct. Thieves, for example.”

“You mean like bandits?”

“That’s right.”

“I didn’t know there were bandits around here...” Arcus sighed. Ex-mercenaries turning into bandits and causing trouble in their neighborhoods was a common theme in some of the books the man read. As soon as the characters stepped out of the city walls, bandits. If they took a single step into the mountains, bandits. Bandits, bandits, bandits, everywhere. “Bandits...”

Strictly speaking, Arcus didn’t have a clear idea of what bandits actually looked like. As far as the man, who lived in a relatively safe country, was concerned, they were no more than mythical creatures. The closest thing to bandits he could think of were muggers. He had heard there were bandit-like criminals abroad, but he didn’t know much more than that.

“If you are having a hard time imagining them, try recalling the mercenaries hired by Marquess Gaston. They are like that, but even less respectable. They hide in caves, old mining tunnels, or abandoned villages in the mountains and come out periodically to steal.”

“How come you never mentioned them before now?”

Cazzy answered. “The area ’round the capital’s well looked after, ain’t it? They got guards on patrol and stuff, so you’re never gonna see any bandits there. That’s why you don’t gotta be so careful.”

“The situation is different out here in the country. Rustinell is a vaster territory than most, and very mountainous. There are several empty regions which cannot be maintained in such a manner.”

“And that’s where the bandits thrive?”

Makes sense...

“Wait a moment, everyone,” their guide said suddenly, bringing his horse to a stop.

Arcus looked ahead. A man crouched unnaturally in the middle of the road. He was dressed like any other traveler, with a cloak to protect him from the sand and a black hat resembling a knitted beanie. Next to him was a single horse, and on closer inspection, he appeared to be tending to someone who had collapsed.

Noah urged his horse forward while Cazzy brought his to the back, keeping an eye out behind them. Arcus suddenly felt the lantern on his waist shake.

“Hm?”

Gown had gifted him the steel lantern as thanks for helping him. Opening the tiny window in the lantern would summon the elf’s Phantom Pack. Arcus hadn’t touched it though, so why, he wondered, was it behaving like this? He decided to let their guide, Bud, ask some questions first.

“What is the matter?”

“I spotted this young man collapsed on the road, and I was just wondering how to help him.”

“Is he sick?”

“I’m not sure; I’m no doctor.” The traveler turned back to the collapsed man and started talking to him to help him stay conscious. He seemed like the caring sort, helping keep the man comfortable.

At the mention of illness, Arcus got down from his horse. “Can I have a look?”

“A noble boy? Have you any medical knowledge?”

“No, but I know why someone would collapse in the heat like this.”

“Hmm.”

The fallen man wore simple clothes, and his skin was tanned. He must have been a farmer or peasant of some sort, likely from a nearby village. Arcus studied him closely. His skin was saggy and his tongue bone-dry.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. I suddenly started feeling unwell.”

“Have you had enough salt and water?”

“Plenty of water, but no salt...”

“Right. Heatstroke, then.”

“What is ‘heatstroke’?” asked Noah.

“It’s when you sweat too much under direct sunlight, and your body runs out of water. Your body fails to regulate its temperature, leading to a physical decline like this.”

“But he said he was drinking water,” the traveler said.

“Even if you drink water, if you don’t have enough salt and minerals, your body won’t be able to absorb it properly. That’s why you crave salt when you sweat.”

“I see. So that’s why you can feel unwell if you don’t ingest enough salt...”

It was so hot, and the sunlight so strong, that Arcus had no doubt about his diagnosis. Now he just needed to treat it.

“His body’s hot, but he’s still conscious, so it’s not too serious yet. We have sugar and salt in the medicine box, right, Cazzy?”

“Sure do.”

“Get me some. And a flask.”

“Gotcha. Here ya go.” Cazzy took the items out of their medicine box.

Arcus mixed them together, heated them up with a quick one-off spell, and then cooled them again.

“You’re a magician?” the traveler asked.

“Sort of.”

“You seem skilled. It’s rare to see a man as young as you using magic so effortlessly.”

“Thanks, but this is really basic stuff.”

Arcus had the man drink his impromptu concoction while Noah cooled his body down with magic. It wasn’t long before the man looked a little better and sat up. “Thank you so much. I feel much better now. Thank you too, sir.”

“I didn’t do a thing. You were just lucky.”

Arcus passed the medicine box back to Noah. “Do you live around here? We’ll take you back.”

“I can’t possibly ask something like that of a noble boy!”

“What if you collapse again? All my help would’ve been for nothing. Let us take you back to make sure you’re okay. That’s an order, by the way. I’ll punish you in my house’s name if you disobey.” Arcus noted he was starting to sound like Sue.

The man paused. “Thank you, sir.” The young man bowed his head obediently.

The man explained that he was on the way back to his village when he fell ill and collapsed.

“What about you?” Arcus asked the man in the hat.

“I am on my way back west.”

“West? Why don’t we travel together for a bit, then?”

“We could, but I doubt traveling with me will be of any benefit to you.”

“If you could share some stories with us, that’d be enough.”

“A typical request of a young noble boy bored out of his mind.”

“Yep! I barely get out of the capital, so there’s not much variety in the stories I hear. It’s not like traveling together or apart makes much difference anyway, right?”

The man was also traveling on horseback. As long as they were going at the same speed, they’d naturally end up traveling together anyway. Arcus knew it might be careless to invite a stranger to go with them, but this was a man they found nursing another at the roadside. That seemed uncharacteristic of a villain.

With the villager riding behind Arcus on his horse, the group set off again. The man in the hat introduced himself as Eido.

“If you were on your way ‘back’ west, does that mean you stopped by the capital?” Arcus asked.

“That’s right,” the man replied. “I don’t have many good memories of the capital, so I was out of there as soon as possible.”

“Oh.”

“Mm.”

It was clear Eido wasn’t looking to elaborate.

“So you live in the west?” Arcus said.

“You could say that. I’m always on the move.”

“Huh.”

After that, Eido told them stories of the west parts of the kingdom, as well as of Sapphireberg, which was a little to the south. While the west was a peaceful place, Sapphireberg was home to ruins teeming with dark spirits that caused all sorts of trouble for the people living there. Eido’s tales of Sapphireberg were a far cry from anything Arcus heard about in the capital.

“Ever been to Sapphireberg, Noah?”

“Yes. I seem to recall a greater number of dark creatures compared to other countries.”

“Really?”

“Indeed,” said Noah. “That might be why mercenaries call themselves ‘adventurers’ over there, and explore the undeveloped areas of the country.”

“Wow! Adventurers! Do they have an adventurers’ guild or something too?!”

“Hm? Well, I believe there is some sort of organization like that.”

“Whoa. I can’t believe it!” Arcus’s face was alight with astonishment. Noah, meanwhile, looked a little put out by his enthusiasm.

“Adventurers attract the sort who like to think big of their skills,” Eido explained, “so you get a lot of ruffians. I’ve heard things improved once they built their own guild, though.”

“Really?” Arcus said.

They were just approaching the next mountain at this point. Arcus was pondering how they’d cross it when their guide stopped his horse. Following his gaze, Arcus spotted an opening in the mountain and, for some reason, a throng of people gathered around it.

“I’ll go and see what’s happening,” said the guide, leaving them behind. He came back a while later. “They say the road’s closed.”

“Closed?”

“Yes. Apparently there are bandits up ahead, so they’ve closed off this road temporarily.”

It sounded like this was the region’s officials taking action to avoid damage or injury. Just as Arcus suspected, this world was crawling with bandits.

“Do you know how long it’ll be closed for?” Arcus asked.

“Not even the guards knew.”

“Is there another route?”

“Well, technically yes, but it’s a very long way around indeed.”

“Oh...”

Either they could take a very long detour, or they could wait around doing nothing indefinitely until the road was open again. Some people had pitched tents by the entrance to wait for the restrictions to lift, but Arcus and his group didn’t have anything like that. Taking the detour might have been the only option. There was just one problem.

“If that other path takes too long, y’know the sun’s gonna go down,” Cazzy pointed out. “That’d be a pain.”

Time wasn’t on their side, simply because they weren’t expecting to take such a long route. Dusk could fall before they found anywhere to rest. Arcus didn’t want to travel at night if they could help it.

“Why not stay in my village?” the villager suggested. “If you leave tomorrow morning, you should be able to make it to your destination by the evening.”

“Hmm. Okay. Let’s do that.”

Hearing their decision, Eido stepped out of the formation. “In that case, this is where we part ways.”

“What? But the road’s blocked!”

“I’ll wait nearby, though if it starts taking too long, I may come to join you.”

Eido left the group and the others traveled on according to the villager’s directions. When they were gone, a lone traveler slipped out from the crowd in front of the blockade, approaching Eido and handing him a sheet of paper. “Here.”

Eido read it. “I see. How unfortunate,” he murmured, turning to look in the direction Arcus and his group had gone.

With the mountain pass to Rustinell’s capital blocked, Arcus and his companions chose to follow the villager’s directions. They turned off the main highway that connected eastern and western Lainur, and had been following a less-traveled road through stands of trees for a while now. It was only now that they were able to spot a man-made structure in the distance. It was a simple protective wall made with uneven logs. Arcus couldn’t help but let out a gasp of astonishment as he saw it. It reminded him of the fortress cities from fantasy and historical movies that he knew from the man’s world.

Drawing closer, they soon spotted another line of people and carts up ahead. It seemed Arcus’s group wasn’t the only one impacted by the road closure. They were waiting in a line by the village gates to gain permission to enter. Seeing the length of the line, Arcus prepared himself for a long wait.

The young villager looked back over his shoulder. “I’ll go ahead and talk to them.”

“Oh, don’t. I don’t want there to be any trouble.”

“Are you sure?”

If they got into the village ahead of the people who had been waiting, it might cause friction, which Arcus wanted to avoid. They brought their horses up to the end of the line and started to wait their turn patiently. Arcus stepped out of the line to check up ahead, where he saw a throng of people right at the front. There seemed to be a group of young men and older, wiser men from the village standing in front of the gate. They must have been there to pass a brief judgment on whether the people who wanted to enter were likely to cause trouble or not. The younger men were all lightly armed and were giving each cart a quick inspection.

“I didn’t realize they’d check over everyone who wanted to come in.”

“They’re checking them to make sure they’re not dangerous,” the guide explained.

While it was inevitable that travelers would be armed to some degree, it was likely that the village didn’t want anyone bringing in any prohibited items. The men were ignoring the bows and polearms carried by the travelers’ escorts, instead looking through their luggage and asking them in detail about the items inside. Once the group of merchants in front of them were allowed entry, the young villager got down from his horse.

“I’ll speak with them now. Please wait here for a moment,” he said, disappearing among the other villagers. They smiled at him when he raised a hand in greeting. He can’t have said more than a few words before he started jogging back to Arcus and the others.

“Are we in?”

“Of course. You saved my life, Arcus, so they’re happy to let you in. Plus...”

“Plus what?”

The villager smiled meekly. “I told them you were a noble boy, so you shouldn’t have any trouble, but...”

“Oh, right. It’s okay; I get it.”

The villager likely didn’t want to start any trouble with the inspectors. This wasn’t the sort of place nobles stopped by very often, so no one really knew the proper ways to address nobility. The villager was asking Arcus to be lenient on anyone who spoke to him improperly.

As they reached the gates, an elderly man approached. “I am this village’s mayor. I am afraid this isn’t a particularly interesting place, but please make yourself at home.”

“Sorry for showing up out of the blue.”

“We’ve already heard about the situation with the mountain pass. It is most unfortunate.”

“I must agree. Does that kind of thing happen often around these parts?” Noah asked.

“Now and then, especially because we’ve been seeing more bandits lately.”

Arcus glanced back at Noah, Cazzy, and the guide, and they all looked as puzzled as he did about the news; it must have been a rare occurrence for the bandit population to surge like this. He wondered if a large gang had slipped into the region recently.

“And...” the mayor began, looking apologetic. He looked behind him, sweeping his gaze over the young men who looked unsure about how to greet Arcus. “As you can tell, we’re all country dwellers out here. I would ask that you forgive any misconduct against you.”

“You don’t need to worry about that kind of thing.”

“Thank you,” said the mayor.

Noah stepped forward. “Might we discuss the payment for staying a night in this village?”

“Oh! Thank you so much! I wasn’t sure how to broach that topic myself, you see...”

Demanding money from a noble must have seemed like an act of great discourtesy to him. Having said that, putting up travelers was no simple feat. They needed to prepare water, food, and bedding, assuming the travelers didn’t have any tents. None of those things were free, and if they didn’t ask the travelers to cover their costs, the villagers would have to do it themselves. The mayor and young men with him looked relieved to have the money talk out of the way.

“Why don’t ya offer to carve ’em some seals to pay?” Cazzy suddenly suggested.

“Seals?”

“Yeah, like on their farmin’ tools. Ya can do that easy, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Arcus had brought the necessary tools and Sorcerer’s Silver with him to carve seals, just in case. “But is it really worth it?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Master Arcus. Engraving seals is highly specialized work.”

Both Cazzy and Noah looked like they were trying to hold in a put-upon sigh. Craib made Arcus carve his own seals so early on that he’d forgotten how technical a skill it was. And regardless, in Arcus’s mind nothing guaranteed that this village was in need of any work like that, specialist or not.

“Not everyone can just pick up some Sorcerer’s Silver an’ start engravin’, y’know. ’Specially in a place like this. I think these guys’ll really appreciate it.”

Most households in the capital had their own engraving tools, but they must have been much rarer in a small village like this.

“You know how to carve seals?”

“Yeah.” Arcus nodded.

The mayor exchanged a glance with the other villagers. They seemed unsure whether or not to believe him, especially given his age and the complexity of the art.

“I mean, the tools I use are just stuff you can pick up in any big store in the capital. This is something I carved myself. Take a look.” Arcus demonstrated by fishing out a small lighter-like device and flicking it on, to the villagers’ mild astonishment.

The mayor exchanged another glance with his entourage. “In that case, might we ask for your service?”

“Yes, but I can’t do too much, because I want to keep some silver on hand for the rest of the journey.”

“We understand. We’ll only ask for the bare minimum we need.”

“Okay.”

The mayor’s cheerful smile brightened even further. Even the little Arcus had to offer seemed to make them happy here. Some of the people who had gathered rushed back into the village, presumably to get the items they wanted Arcus to engrave.

“Now what?” Arcus asked.

“Now things’ll be easier for us here ’cause you’ve done somethin’ nice for ’em,” Cazzy, himself a rural farmer by birth, replied.

This place was a closed community, meaning that outsiders were generally disliked. A well-chosen favor was likely to turn the tide in your favor to a certain extent. The comfort of any stay in a place like this depended entirely on how the villagers felt about you. While they might not offer open hospitality, at least this way they wouldn’t have to worry about being treated cruelly.

On entering the village, they spotted several tents already pitched in empty spaces. This village didn’t have any inns, so those who had adequate preparations for braving the outdoors were setting up their own shelters. Arcus and the others waited until they were able to go to the mayor’s house.

“Bandits...” Arcus muttered again.

“Do you think he might be getting a sinister premonition of some sort?” Noah asked. “Master Arcus has been repeating that word ever since we first discussed the matter.”

“Ooh, I bet they’re gonna attack us tonight!” Cazzy broke into a cackling fit.

Now that it was just the three of them, those two saw fit to start making uncomfortable predictions.

“Guys...” Arcus couldn’t help but sigh, as anyone would. He shot them a half-hearted glare, but they just seemed confused.

“Is something the matter?”

“Not yet, but if you keep saying stuff like that, we really will get attacked.”

“Naw, you’re just bein’ superstitious!”

“You do have a tendency to think negatively,” Noah said. “I fear you might become paranoid as you get older... Or perhaps I should say more paranoid.”

“I bet he would!” Cazzy said, laughing.

They felt no remorse entertaining themselves by twisting their master’s words. To put it simply, they were incorrigible. Even then, their lack of concern worried Arcus.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Arcus said sternly. “Words are magical. When you say something like that in a situation like this, it activates a certain law.”

“A law?”

“What sort of law?” asked Noah dubiously.

“Y’know, like the law of attraction, or Murphy’s law.”

Only when they probed him did Arcus realize he didn’t have a precise answer. Neither of the examples he gave seemed quite right to him, and if the master didn’t know, how were the servants supposed to understand? The three of them exchanged puzzled glances there in the middle of the village square.

“What I’m saying is that if we’re attacked tonight, I’m blaming you two.”

A jinx was what it was, and he hadn’t come across one this foreboding since the first time he met Sue, so of course he couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

Seal engraving was the art of carving Artglyphs into objects using Sorcerer’s Silver in order to imbue them with magical effects. They could be carved into any sort of material: wood, leather, resin, and so forth. Using a chisel to engrave metal was a particularly common scenario. The Artglyphs also needed to be carved in a pattern distinct from how you would render them with a brush and ink, but the style itself was left up to the individual.

An inexperienced engraver would copy the Artglyphs almost stroke for stroke, creating something that could hardly be called a “pattern.” The most famous engravers created their seals so beautifully, the finished product stood as a work of art on its own.

Engraving seals required several materials. The first was, of course, Sorcerer’s Silver. You then needed mineral pigments to fine-tune the seal’s effect. A small knife or a chisel and a mallet were needed to do the carving itself. You also needed a file to smooth down the surface when you were finished.

The purpose of most seals was to make the object last longer, which was why seals that had an anti-rust or anti-erosion effect were so commonplace. The difficulty of engraving weapons, such as knives, went up considerably. While making them sharper or resistant to rust wasn’t too hard, making them more durable, as people often wanted to, was a different matter. Simply engraving them with the seals to make them tougher would make them too tough to sharpen when you needed to. Balancing the utility of the seals with the ability to maintain your tool was vital.

Luckily, Arcus’s job this time wasn’t so tough. He just needed to engrave a few seals and patch up some older Seal Tools. He didn’t have much time to carve them in the first place, so the request wasn’t too time-consuming, nor did he need to use too many of his resources.

He did his work in the mayor’s living room, checking the seals for chips or grazes and repairing any he found. It was some time after their lunch break by the time Arcus got started on engraving new seals. It wouldn’t do for his servants to lie around while their master worked, so they were out taking care of the horses, finding them a place to sleep, and negotiating with merchants, among other things. Cazzy was particularly helpful when it came to knowing this place’s unspoken rules.

The villagers gathered curiously around the whetstone that Arcus had just finished working on, squealing like children with new toys when they saw how much more efficient it was now. It was then that the mayor came in with some tea for Arcus.

“Thank you so much for your help.”

“It’s no trouble at all, really. Most of it’s been looking over and repairing stuff.”

“It may not be much to you, but you have helped us out immensely by doing this.” The mayor thanked him for the umpteenth time. “My wife is busy preparing you the best meal she can.”

Arcus followed the mayor’s gaze to see that the kitchen was already laden with food: wild plants, eggs, and even duck, which must have been slaughtered that morning.

“I haven’t done anything that deserves a reward like this.”

“Please, I insist. You’ve checked over so many of our tools that really we should be paying you for the service.”

Arcus could only see the mayor’s words as an exaggeration. As far as he was concerned, looking over and fixing up their Seal Tools was a fair trade for a night’s stay here; if the two were not of exactly equal value, then they were close enough. Preparing a lavish meal for him on top of that would mean the village paid more for his work than they would normally. Unless...

“Don’t tell me the cost of this sort of service has jumped up?” Arcus motioned to the tool he was working on.

The mayor responded with a troubled look and a nod. “I’m afraid so.”

If Sorcerer’s Silver was getting more expensive, then so would seals. It wasn’t hard to conclude that even a village like this was feeling the knock-on effects of the silver shortage, and the mayor seemed to confirm it.

“We used to buy Seal Tools and engraving services now and then, but the recent prices, even for a simple service, would make your jaw drop.”

“They really shot up that much, huh?”

“There are other commodities that suddenly spiked in price too. To be honest, it’s been a real struggle for us,” the mayor explained with a weighty sigh, giving wheat and salt as examples.

They were suffering even out here in Rustinell, right at the heart of Lainur’s silver trade.

This might be an even more serious problem than I thought.

“Oh! Here y’are!” a third voice interrupted their discussion. Arcus turned to see a young man wearing a tulip hat. He had pushed his way through the throng of people admiring the whetstone, and a plump middle-aged man gasping for breath followed him. It appeared he had business with the mayor, but it was obvious from the way he was dressed that he wasn’t a villager. He was in traveling clothes, and had likely stopped by here the same way Arcus’s group had.

The man in the tulip hat looked to be around Noah’s age, if not a little older. He wore a cloak and a large, curved blade at his hip. On his back, he carried a small knapsack. His eyes were slitted, like the mythical foxes Arcus knew from the man’s world. Those eyes were really the only feature that set him apart from your average person.

His companion was the spitting image of a typical merchant. Aside from his rounded waist, he was completely average in every other way.

“Ah, Mr. Gilles,” the mayor addressed the man in the tulip hat.

“Hi. Just stoppin’ by.” Gilles smiled and winked at the mayor before turning his grin on Arcus. Arcus looked back at him a little warily. “Heard a noble was staying here, so just thought I’d come say hi. Reckon it’s the right thing to do. That’s what they say, anyway.”

“R-Right.”

Gilles had a strong, rural accent. That accent, coupled with the fact that he rambled so openly to a stranger, reminded Arcus of the old women who lived out in the country in the man’s world. Unsure how to deal with such an overwhelming character, Arcus looked to the mayor for help—but his eyes were also darting around this way and that. He was clearly at a loss too.

Noticing their discomfort, Gilles’s companion spoke up. “M-Mr. G-Gilles. You shouldn’t speak like that to a noble; it’s rude.”

“Why? Back in Imeria, we speak friendly to anyone we meet. Y’won’t complain there, right? Right?” Gilles’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled and approached Arcus, who felt he had no choice but to nod.

“R-Right.”

“See? Even the noble kid’s on my side! It wasn’t a big deal!”

Every facet of Gilles’s behavior had an odd charm that made it hard for Arcus to see his boldness as rude. His smile was packed with amicability, and every gesture he made was just a fraction over-the-top. It made him almost impossible to dislike.

Arcus put down his tools to take a break and drink the tea the mayor had brought him. He glanced out at the yard and spotted Noah. He must’ve been there to keep an eye on things. Arcus looked back to see Gilles sitting comfortably in the chair opposite and his companion gingerly taking a seat next to him. Gilles shrugged the knapsack from his back.

“Name’s Gilles. Guess you’d call me a travelin’ merchant. I sell stuff in the east, in the west, the north, and the south, and to countries all over the place. This guy is, uh... What was your name again?”

“I am Pilocolo, and I am also a merchant. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, um...Milady?”

“Ngh...” Arcus knew Pilocolo didn’t mean anything by it, but that last word still made his face stiffen. Only just managing to pry his twitching mouth open again, Arcus choked out, “I-I’m a boy...”

“Oh! Please excuse me!” Pilocolo bowed his head immediately.

“I owe y’one, Pilocolo,” Gilles said. “I didn’t know myself which he was.”

“M-Mr. Gilles...”

“Well, you look serious, so I thought I’d bring you along so you could ask him. No hard feelings?”

Pilocolo stared at Gilles, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly before he eventually dropped his head into his hands. They were a strange duo—if duo was even the right word for it.

“You two don’t know each other?” Arcus asked.

“Naw. I only just met this fella.”

“That’s right. I was putting up my tent when Mr Gilles approached and asked me whether I’d accompany him to greet the noble...” Pilocolo trailed off.

“When you say ‘asked,’ do you mean ‘forced’?” Arcus said, raising the question on his mind.

“Yes,” The merchant answered wearily. Arcus couldn’t blame him for looking tired. He’d been trying to keep up with Gilles’ pace this whole time.

“Naw, that’s not it. You just looked bored, so I reckoned I’d invite you along.”

Arcus noted it might have been more polite to ask Pilocolo if he was bored, but it seemed Gilles already made up his mind.

“My name’s Arcus. We’re not gonna be staying here long, but it’s nice to meet you anyway.”

“So am I ’sposed to call you Lord Arcus or somethin’?”

“You can call me whatever you want.”

“Y’sure?”

“No one here’s gonna punish you for it, or think any less of me for it.”

Making a big deal about his social position here would only attract trouble. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d run into this pair of merchants again, so no-one stood to benefit if Arcus were high-handed about it.

“So I can just call y’Arcus?” Gilles asked.

“Yeah.”

Pilocolo was cringing uncomfortably, as though he couldn’t imagine calling Arcus by first name alone.

“So did you two come here because the mountain pass was closed too?” asked Arcus.

“Yep. Both me and Pilocolo were stranded because of it. I’m travelin’ alone, so I’m fine, but Pilocolo here’s with a huge group.”

“That’s right,” Pilocolo confirmed hesitantly.

“You mean... Were you that group with all the carts?” Arcus asked.

“Yes, that was us.”

“Huh.”

Gilles shot Pilocolo a suggestive smile. “I wanna know what you’re carryin’ with you so bad! It’s gotta be big if you’re usin’ carts that sturdy!”

“It’s refined silver. We’re transporting it from a nearby mine to Her Ladyship.”

“Whoa! Silver!”

“Silver?” Arcus’s ears pricked. Was this man really carrying just what he was after? It would be a strange coincidence, but more caught his attention about the situation than that. “Isn’t silver only to be transported on a lord’s orders?”

“Yes; we have Her Ladyship’s permission. Logistics is part of my work too, so she asked me to transport this silver for her this time.”

“I see...”

So they outsourced their shipping. Transporting heavy materials required both money and manpower, so it was probably more cost-effective to hire the experts.

Pilocolo pulled out a permit from his breast pocket and showed it to them. Gilles took it and looked over it with a curious hum. “That blockage must’ve done a real number on you guys then.”

“Yes. I wasn’t exactly enthused to hear about the thieves.” Pilocolo’s face was pale as he thought about the possibility of his cargo being stolen. From the way he trembled, Arcus had the impression he was a rather weak-willed man.

“Silver. Think you could sell some to me? Everyone’s after it right now,” said Gilles.

“I am only transporting it for Her Ladyship, like I said, so I cannot sell you any of it. Besides, even if I sold you some, you’d have no way to carry it!”

Gilles laughed loudly. “Okay, you got me!”

No one else joined in.

Knowing the material he came here for was so close preyed on Arcus’s mind, but he couldn’t forget his journey’s original objective. It wasn’t like he could just negotiate with Pilocolo, buy some of his silver, and declare the journey over. Besides, buying some of his employer’s stock here was bound to get him in hot water. He had a letter from the king, so it was always possible to force Pilocolo to hand some over, but that would only cause relations between the crown and House Rustinell to sour. He needed to ask the lady herself and go through the proper channels to get what he wanted without doing anything rash.

“What are you doin’ then, Arcus?”

“I’m working on these seals. Can’t you tell?”

“Hey, I’m makin’ conversation. But man, you’re good for a kid. You’re even gettin’ all those details in.” Gilles picked up one of the whetstones Arcus was done with and began inspecting it. “Got any more stuff like this?”

Arcus showed him the lighter.

“Oh, hey. This is cool.” Gilles played with it, lighting it up and letting out an impressed hum. “Your seals look good, they’re carved good, and they work good. You got a swell pair of hands on you if you can make a tool as smart as this.”

“Have you got a good understanding of seals, Mr. Gilles?”

“I’ve seen a fair few in my time. None with a pattern like this though. What school d’you study at, Arcus?”

“I don’t.”

“Taught yourself, huh?”

From the sounds of it, Gilles was judging the seal more by the pattern than anything else. “What other Seal Tools d’you make, Arcus?”

“Just small stuff, or stuff that’s useful on a daily basis like that lighter.”

“That right?” Gilles sounded deeply impressed. For a split second, his eyes opened wide and studied Arcus with a piercing look, like he was sizing him up. Then he cracked into a smile. “Whaddya think, Arcus? Will you let me sell some of your Seal Tools?”

“’Fraid I can’t,” Arcus replied, trying to keep his tone neutral so Gilles couldn’t detect his real thoughts on the matter. He’d long learned that promising too much to someone like this without due consideration was not a good idea at all.

A suggestive smile rose to Gilles’s lips. “Arcus Raytheft.”

Arcus jumped.

“Ah! I knew it!” His expression was smug.

Arcus could feel his face growing pale. “How do you know my name?”

“Heard it through the grapevine,” Gilles said.

“Information that specific isn’t stuff you hear through the grapevine,’” Arcus said.

“Y’sure? Think about it. How many families in this kingdom have silver hair like that? That narrows things down by a ton.”

He had a point. The Raytheft house was famous for producing heirs with silvery blond hair. It wasn’t a difficult conclusion to come to if you already knew Arcus was nobility.

“They said yer talentless and got disinherited for it, but I guess rumors ain’t always right.”

So those rumors spread even among traveling merchants. Arcus felt his anger toward his father Joshua rising for the first time in a while.

“Y’after silver, ain’t you? That’s why you’re here.”

Arcus didn’t respond, not allowing the prickling irritation inside him to show on his face. How did Gilles know that much? Arcus looked at him warily and Gilles, apparently realizing he’d broached a sensitive topic, grew flustered.

“That’s easy to work out too, ain’t it? Makin’ seals means usin’ Sorcerer’s Silver. Sorcerer’s Silver means gettin’ regular silver. Makes sense, don’t it?”

“Right...” Arcus replied listlessly.

“Master Arcus,” Pilocolo said in an attempt to change the subject and dissipate the awkward air, “If you require silver, I may be able to assist you after I have finished my business in the capital.”

“R-Really? I’d appreciate it.”

Pilocolo’s help wouldn’t be necessary, given Arcus’s letter from the king, but he decided to give him a vague thank you anyway. Pilocolo bowed his head, saying he was happy to be of assistance.

“We should probably make tracks, huh?” said Gilles.

“I agree.”

“We’re stayin’ out by the tents, so let us know if y’need anythin’.”

And with that, the peculiar man left the mayor’s house, taking Pilocolo along with him.

Their stay in the village was less restful than Arcus had anticipated. There was no noble house to welcome him, and nobody assigned to take care of him or his business for him. He had to do everything himself. Thanks to Noah, Cazzy, and their guide, Arcus didn’t have too many tasks, but it still took him until the evening to finish his work on the seals, prepare for tomorrow, and plan a new route to the capital.

Then it was time for dinner. The spread laid out on the mahogany table in front of him proved even fancier than he’d anticipated: soup made with eggs and wild greens, fresh-caught fish pie, herb-roasted ducks. And that was just the start.

Arcus took in the food in front of him, the likes of which these villagers probably only saw on special occasions. The Sol Glasses hung from the ceiling lit it all up brilliantly. The browned duck skin shone amber, the soup’s fragrant steam swirled upward, and the fish pie looked even more incredible. The fish-shaped, cream-colored crust was dotted with beautiful caramelization. Round lemon slices were layered on top, and boiled vegetables garnished the edges. And...

“It’s huge.”

Arcus’s eyes widened at the pie, which was bigger than the roasted ducks put together. When Arcus saw the dish big enough to dominate over half the table being brought in from the outside furnace, he couldn’t imagine what was sitting on top of it. Its simplicity and size were something he’d only seen in anime from the man’s country.

“This is white trout,” explained Noah. “I’m told it is a common fish here in the western regions.”

“White trout, huh? Usually I’d expect salmon in pies like this.”

“Ya know a similar dish? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised y’know a lot ’bout food,” Cazzy remarked.

Arcus was beginning to wonder whether they’d really be able to eat the entire thing. Even with the guide included, there were only four of them. He wasn’t even sure they could make a proper dent in it. While Arcus panicked internally, the mayor’s wife laughed to herself quietly.

“We’re not s’posed to eat all of this, y’know,” Cazzy said. “We should leave at least half.”

“It is tradition, no matter where you are, to prepare a lavish meal for a guest of honor. When that guest has had his fill, the leftovers go to the children.”

“Oh, that’s what this is.”

Now the sheer volume of food made sense, but even then Arcus shuddered to think how expensive all of this was. This world had no shortage of food, but offering several roasted ducks along with a pie like that wasn’t something you could do every day. The villagers must really have been grateful to him for helping the young man and looking at their Seal Tools. The villager they helped thanked Arcus again after they came back, and people would thank him every time he set foot outside. Both he and his servants were smacking their lips at the first lavish meal they’d had in a while. The pie was especially exquisite, with cheese melting out between the white fish and the crust. Paired with the lemon slices, the fish and its aftertaste were perfectly balanced.

They continued to eat as the mayor’s wife described the recipe. It would have been a wonderfully relaxed evening, if not for one thing.

“Beggin’ y’pardon! Could I get some more of this pie? It’s so good, I reckon I’ve never had anythin’ like it!”

A tense silence filled the air. Arcus and his companions looked toward the voice, only to find a grinning Gilles sitting there. He sat next to their guide, who was struggling with a persistent string of cheese, his short brown hair now uncovered by his hat. He was a dinner guest too; the mayor had invited him as thanks for lending him several goods. Arcus didn’t have anything against him, but his personality had a way of overwhelming the dinner table.

“Master Arcus. Might I suggest you select your acquaintances with a little more care in the future?”

“Whaddya lookin’ at me for, Noah? Bastard...”

“You simply imagined it. Or does that mean you are aware of your own idiosyncrasies?”

Cazzy scowled at the handsome butler, who simply smiled serenely in response. Arcus was used to them arguing like this. Their personalities were complete opposites, yet they still managed to communicate jovially with each other. Noah wouldn’t say such things to someone he wasn’t comfortable around, and Cazzy being Cazzy, he wasn’t troubled at all; he just shrugged the comment off.

But Cazzy wasn’t the only person Noah was referring to, of course.

“Your standards are way too high, pretty boy,” Gilles said.

“Why, I am delighted to receive such praise.”

“You’re cheeky to boot. Guy next to you’s way easier to chat with,” Gilles said, sidling up to Cazzy.

“Cram it. I don’t like hangin’ round with fishy types like you,” Cazzy said with a cackle.

Even Cazzy thinks there’s something off about Gilles...

As far as Arcus was concerned, Gilles was fishier than their dinner. It was like his true motives were hidden deep inside him—so deep that Arcus had him pinned as someone to be particularly wary of. Cazzy was smiling, but Arcus could see the slight caution behind the gesture. Maybe Cazzy had picked up on what Gilles was actually after.

“Aaah, rejected! ’S no biggie! I guess Arcus can be my best bud, then!”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Since we’re pals, could y’help me out? Y’know what I said about them Seal Tools?”

“Why won’t you listen to a word anyone says?”

“Well? Will y’think about it?”

“I dunno.” Arcus’s second vague response did nothing to discourage Gilles.

“I guarantee there’s nothin’ to lose! I’ll make you rich! See? See?! Just like this!”

“Are you done?”

“Y’know, it’s rare to see seals as fancy as yours. I wanna see where y’go from here!”

Arcus grumbled internally. He knew Gilles was praising him, but he couldn’t for the life of him work out what the merchant was after. The praise pleased him, but he felt reluctant to take it at face value from the mouth of a merchant. At the same time, it seemed too rash to reject his offer outright. Arcus didn’t know enough about him and more importantly about his activities as a merchant. Perhaps it was time to ask some questions.

“How many markets have you got? What kinda connections?”

“Oh, are y’bitin’? I sell in the Northern Confederation, Sapphireberg... Down south, I got connections from Granciel to the Hanai Archipelago.”

“Huh...”

His connections seemed to cover several places with a connection to Lainur. Not all of them, of course, but the scale of his business could not be understated.

“That is rather impressive,” Noah said with a satisfied hum.

“I don’t travel round half the world n’ back for nothin’!”

“Just ’cause ya talk big don’t mean we’ll believe ya,” Cazzy said.

“Fair enough!” Gilles let the insinuation roll off of him like water off a duck’s back.

If Gilles was telling the truth, then Arcus could put himself at a disadvantage by not doing business with him. It wasn’t just about selling his products; if Arcus made friends with a merchant, he would be able to buy valuable information and goods as well. And yet, Gilles was traveling alone. Arcus had no idea whether he had some kind of team behind him, and if he did, who they were. It was only natural he should have doubts, and Gilles seemed to recognize as much.

“Look, I don’t like to show this to just anyone, but...” Gilles reached down to take something from the knapsack at his feet, as though that might convince Arcus of who he was. He produced a lump of resin which sparkled as brightly as any gem. Next was a dark-red fruit which smelled like cloying iron. Then came a branch whose round fruit seemed to shimmer in several different colors.

Noah gasped. “These are valuable items indeed,” he said, picking up the lump of resin through a handkerchief.

“Is that an iron clove? Man...” Cazzy was inspecting the fruit, which came from a rare plant that could only be found deep in the Cross Mountain Range.

Arcus questioned their reactions, and they both explained that these items were particularly rare, some of them to the point that even the capital’s larger stores didn’t carry them. Noah whispered that Gilles had to be legitimate if he was carrying stock this precious.

Gilles was grinning widely, but it was hard to tell if it was out of self-congratulation or just happiness at being believed. “Well? Think y’could talk out a deal with me now?”

“Hm...”

Gilles had shown Arcus stood to gain from getting involved with him. He had a far-reaching network, and the items he dealt in were rare. They didn’t even necessarily have to strike a deal; it was entirely possible for Arcus to form a more basic relationship with him than that. The problem was that it was still unclear who Gilles was exactly. That was enough to put Arcus off the whole thing, but he still hesitated. Were the advantages of refusing more desirable than the disadvantages of accepting?

Noah’s face was perfectly calm. Cazzy was tucking back into his food as though Arcus’s decision barely mattered to him at all. It was clear they were leaving it all up to their master’s judgment at this point. Arcus didn’t know whether that was because they trusted him, or because they thought it was too much hassle to think about, although he was sure they’d give him the answer if he asked.

Just then, the lantern at Arcus’s hip began to shake.

“Huh?”

It made a clear, bell-like sound as it shook. It was just like what happened earlier in the day, only this time the shaking was more powerful.

“Somethin’ wrong, Arcus?” asked Gilles.

“No. Nothing.”

He was getting ready to pick up where they left off when they heard loud noises from outside. A frantic banging came from the door. The mayor’s wife hurried to open it, letting in a young villager. He leaned against a shelf, bent double as he struggled to catch his breath.

“M-Mayor! There’s trouble!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The gatekeeper spotted lights outside the village! Th-There are loads of them!”

“At this time of the evening? Are you sure it’s not the county garrison on patrol?”

“We don’t know for sure, but they might be bandits! We’re rounding up all the fighting-fit villagers now!”

“No way. That’s too much of a coincidence,” Cazzy muttered.

“Has the Raytheft House given birth to a prophet?” Noah wondered aloud.

“Excuse me?” Arcus stared daggers at his servants. They both averted their gazes awkwardly. Arcus looked back at Gilles as though nothing had happened. The easygoing smile on his face was still perfectly intact, despite the urgency of the situation.

“Somethin’ troublin’ you, Arcus?”

“I just don’t get how you can be so calm right now.”

“I was expectin’ this to an extent; that’s why.”

“You were expecting bandits?” Arcus said. “Wait, they might not be bandits, but still...”

“I reckon that’s exactly what they are.”

“How come?”

“Obvious, ain’t it? Bandits are always lookin’ for folk to steal from, so of course they’re gonna show up where those folk are.”

“That’s why you’re not panicking?”

“Yup. If they were hangin’ round the mountain road, then you gotta expect they might show up at one of these nearby towns.”

Arcus couldn’t argue with that. It was curious why Gilles chose to stay overnight in one of those “nearby towns” if he was expecting danger like this. Any traveling merchant with a decent sense of self-preservation would surely have made the least risky move available—which meant staying far away from this village.

Gilles still had that mysterious smile plastered on his face. Arcus studied his narrow eyes, but he just couldn’t work out what the man was thinking—and right now he didn’t have time to work it out.

“Noah. Cazzy.”

“Yes, master.”

“Ugh.”

The two of them set to work immediately. Arcus set Noah to preparing weapons and sent Cazzy out to check on the situation outside.

The mayor’s voice took on a troubled tone as he saw what they were doing. “Um, Arcus...”

“We’ll fight with you if there’s trouble,” Arcus said.

“B-But...”

“Don’t worry. Those two are used to fighting. You wait here, Bud.”

The guide nodded. They’d be in trouble without him; Arcus couldn’t risk sending him into danger.

“Y’sure are brave for a kid. Like some prince or somethin’. Pretty cool.”

“Are you gonna fight too, Gilles?”

“Naw, I got my hands full with my own stuff. Gonna hide someplace, I am.”

So he said, but he was still hanging around Arcus.

What’s his deal?

Was he planning to hide behind Arcus, Noah, and Cazzy?

Noah leaned down to whisper into Arcus’s ear. “Be wary of him. I shall keep an eye open as well.”

“Thanks.”

Cazzy appeared from around the doorway then, his usual unsettling grin on his face. “I think yer some kinda prophet after all, O Master.”

“Maybe you’d better start worshiping me.”

Cazzy cackled. “What, my faithful service ain’t enough?”

Cazzy brandished a cane with a peculiar handle. He’d claimed he took it with him for the long journey, but Arcus hadn’t seen him use it before, so presumably it was some sort of weapon if he had it with him now.

“How are things out there?” the mayor asked Cazzy.

“They’re tryin’ to plow down the southern gate. The villagers are holdin’ ’em back for now, but I reckon they can’t hold on forever.”

“I-I see...” The mayor’s face was pale. This couldn’t have been a situation he was faced with very often.

Arcus had never experienced anything like this either, but he did have knowledge on his side. He had a plan in mind.

“Mr. Mayor. Please go outside and prepare to fight. Set up some bonfires too. After that, go around and make sure people know not to leave their houses.”

“U-Understood!”

“Mr. Mayor! Master Arcus!” Pilocolo cried, running up to them.

“Pilocolo. There’s trouble.”

“I know, but I have my cargo to think of. May we move it to the northern gate to wait there?”

“Won’t that endanger the villagers?” Arcus said.

“I can only apologize, but my cargo is to be delivered to Her Ladyship herself. I cannot allow anything to happen to it, and if the bandits appear at the northern gate, I shall make sure they are dealt with. Please.”

“Okay, but please send somebody to help at the southern end if you can spare them.”

“Of course.”

Arcus made his way to the southern gate together with Noah as Gilles followed behind them. A simple barricade had been erected there already, and a crew of armed villagers were gathered behind it. As Cazzy reported, the younger villagers were trying to secure the gate.

Arcus spotted the man they saved that afternoon approaching. “I’m so sorry this is happening, Arcus.”

“It looks like they came here because the mountain path was blocked off. Don’t worry about it; we’ll fight with you.”

The other villagers stared in astonishment at Arcus’s declaration. He was aware how silly it sounded for a young boy like him to announce his intention to fight.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I think you ought to evacuate.”

“I’m a magician; I can fight.”

“Ah...okay.” The man nodded, and the expression on the villagers’ faces changed from shock to understanding. They didn’t need much convincing, having already seen his skill with seals.

“It won’t hold much longer!” cried one of the men at the gate.

Heavy thumps came in regular intervals from the gate, sending vibrations through Arcus’s body. Arcus presumed they’d brought a battering ram of some kind. Wood began to splinter and fly off from the surface, and there were shouts from the other side of the boundary. The worn bolt began to warp and groan in protest. It would only be a matter of seconds before it gave in completely. The second it did, this place would be swarming with bandits. From the sheer force brought to bear on the gate, Arcus figured they were giddy with anticipation for killing, looting, and rape.

What they hadn’t reckoned with was the fact that this was the worst place they could have chosen to attack.

Arcus hadn’t expected the village to be so dark under the curtain of the night. He was used to the nights of the capital, illuminated by dazzling Sol Glasses everywhere you looked. The light of the stars and moon was too fickle, leaving the village oppressed by an inky darkness. Even as Sol Glasses spilled their light from residential windows, they only deepened the shadows that crawled out from the space between houses. The torches, bonfires, and extra Sol Glasses prepared by the villagers gave some visibility, but more of the surroundings were plunged into darkness than not.

Letting any of the bandits slip past them now almost guaranteed they would never be found again. Arcus could see it: they would hide themselves in the shadows and strike unseen. They would have to be defeated here, right by the gate.

“Bring the barricade forward as far as you can! Hammer the stakes as deep into the ground as possible! Do not still your hands!” Noah’s directions to the villagers behind them came loud and clear over the heavy slams from the other side of the gate.

The barricade, ropes, and stakes were laid out at random, breaking up clear paths inside and allowing the defenders to claim first blood from a safe distance with polearms and bows.

“Y’know what you’re doin’, huh, prettyboy? Y’done this before?” Gilles asked.

“My first battle was fought on the defending side,” Noah said.

“Oh yeah? Must’ve been a toughie.”

Noah nodded quietly. Arcus always assumed Noah’s first battle was alongside his uncle, Craib, but maybe that wasn’t the case after all.

Arcus turned his focus on preparing to fight. He turned his white cloak inside out and pulled his sword from its sheath. He checked his hip for Gown’s lantern, making sure it was available in case they were really backed into a corner. Then, he approached the barricade.

“Are you two ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“Ya betcha!”

“Okay,” Arcus said, “I’ll launch the first attack. When that’s done, Noah, you go forward; Cazzy and I will stay behind.”

Cazzy stepped forward and tapped on his shoulder with his long cane. “Lemme take the front line as well this time.”

As Arcus suspected, it looked like he wanted to make use of that stick. It had an irregular profile; a multitude of grips and handles projected from it at strange angles. Arcus had no idea how you were supposed to use it, but he accepted Cazzy’s request before shifting his attention to the villagers trying to hold the gate.

“Jump back, everyone, and cover your ears!”

“That’s what you’re up to, huh?” Cazzy said.

“Yup, so get your earplugs in, guys.”

“Yes, master.”

“Aight!”

“What are y’doin’?” Gilles’s eyes were bright with curiosity as he brought them far too close to Arcus’s face.

“Just cover your ears, shut your mouth, and watch,” instructed Arcus, irritation creeping into his voice.

The villagers he commanded near the gate reacted with confusion. They knew that if they fell away from the gate now, it would crumble under the enemy’s assault. Arcus himself would probably be hesitant to follow his own orders in their position. Only when he added that he was about to use magic did they do as he said. Without the villagers’ support, the gate and its bolt weakened even more quickly. The gate warped from the center as the pressure mounted against its other side, and the creaking of the bolt became even more unpleasant as it began to crack.

Arcus repeated the order for the villagers to cover their ears. A split second passed where it was unclear whether the bandits had broken through or not, and Arcus opened his mouth.

“Pop. Rage. A loud snore and the bugle at dawn. A clumsy cacophony of musicians amidst the shrill barking of dogs. A baby bawls as its father bellows. Come together, noise, and release here as a cascade of ear-piercing bubbles.”

“Bewildering Bubble.”

Immediately after the incantation, Artglyphs filled the air and scattered widely. The shining white characters, tinged with blue, inflated until they became bubbles. Their soapy film reflected in rainbow shades as the bubbles floated, each taking their own path. It was as innocent a sight as if Arcus had simply blown them with a bubble wand. Only their larger size and the magic infused within them set them apart. The view of those bubbles and the gate behind them turned almost ethereal as the light of the fires gently illuminated them.

“Now that’s some fine-lookin’ magic!”

“I told you to keep quiet!”

“Aww, Arcus, y’sure are a sneaky one, ain’t you?” Gilles grinned and covered his ears.

Arcus quickly brushed off the indignation that rose up within him. He gestured to the unprotected villagers to get clear of the bubbles and to be careful not to touch them. The gate crashed apart, throwing the bandits clinging onto the battering log forward into the village. Others started surging in after them, but they didn’t get far before their vanguard smashed into the waiting bubbles.

A series of booms like scores of firecrackers being set off at once pierced the air. None of the bandits could withstand the direct assault to their eardrums, which drowned out even their screams. The villagers who’d followed Arcus’s instructions were all right, but the bandits started frothing at the mouth and collapsing where they stood. Those who stayed on their feet wobbled and stumbled around like drunkards. They tripped and fell over their fallen companions and made to crawl away without trying to stand up again. Heaps of collapsed bandits were piled in front of the village gate.

Their advantage lost, the second wave of bandits faltered. They were yelling to those outside the gate—likely warning them that they were facing at least one magician. They seemed confused, unable to gauge their own volume and not knowing whether any of their companions could actually hear them.

The bandits couldn’t coordinate themselves or each other. Not only had they lost too many of their own, but there were also several bubbles left floating in the air. If they pressed forward now while attempting to avoid them, their movements would become awkward, and they would inevitably trigger them anyway. One of the braver bandits charged forward alone, only to run headlong into a bubble that one of the villagers had burst with a fistful of thrown pebbles.

“Destroy all the bubbles first!” one of the bandits ordered.

The most effective attacks were those difficult to defend against. Sounds couldn’t be blocked by shields or physical obstacles, and their effects were felt in an instant. Arcus could easily have bought the time the village needed, disabled the attackers, and broken the survivors’ morale, by casting his spell over and over, but for the villagers’ sake he deemed one usage enough. Without the seal-engraved earplugs he and his servants were wearing, it was possible their hearing would be damaged if he exposed them to the spell for too long. While it was aether-efficient and relatively easy to use, this was its downside when fighting in large groups.

Arrows and stones flew toward the bubbles from outside the gate. They burst apart loudly into fragmented Artglyphs which dissolved into the air, allowing more bandits to cautiously infiltrate the village. They numbered only ten or so; Arcus’s Bewildering Bubble seemed to have knocked out most of their numbers. There might have been more hesitating outside the gate, but even then that hesitation was just another factor in the magicians’ favor.

Cazzy suddenly leapt forward in front of Noah. Clearly thinking he was being careless, bandits moved to surround him straight away.

“Algol’s sickle. May the well-sharpened blade mow down the grass and vines of the garden. Cut down the weeds. Cut down the reed beds. Mow down and uproot everything.”

“Algol’s Grass-Cutting Sickle.”

The spell cited a tale from The Spiritual Age referenced often in legends and histories—that of the farmer Algol and his week of labors. The first day, Monday, was a day for clearing ground. Copper-colored Artglyphs began to gather at the tip of Cazzy’s stick before taking shape. They drew a beautiful curve: a large blade. It looked like a scythe worthy of Death himself.

“W-Wow! It’s a beam blade! A beam scythe!”

Arcus received a battery of confused looks in the wake of his proclamation. While he jumped up and down with excitement, Cazzy twisted his body at the hip and brought the weapon down.

He swung the scythe in a circle, cutting down everything around him. Needless to say, that included the bandits attempting to crowd him. Their bodies were cut cleanly apart, never to be reunited.

“Ew...”

“That is quite the blade,” remarked Noah.

“Y’guys got a whole ton of these impressive spells, huh?”

The reactions to Cazzy’s scythe could broadly be split into three categories. Some screwed their faces up at the brutal, gory results. Some couldn’t help but gasp in astonishment at its raw power. Others whistled appreciatively.

“Keep your distance!” one of the bandits cried when he saw the pool of blood surrounding Cazzy.

With Cazzy’s scythe and Noah’s rapier in the way, the bandits wouldn’t be able to get past easily. The same went for the other side; the bandits were still launching a scattering of arrows through the gate, limiting the options for a counterattack. The villagers held their positions behind the barricade with their spears, others continuing to shoot arrows and throw stones. That stalemate continued for a while.

“Noah.”

“Yes, I believe so.” Noah nodded, already knowing what Arcus was about to say.

The bandits’ tactics left an odd impression, like they had no real fight behind their actions. At the very least, they seemed like they were trying to win, but their attacks seemed too passive, especially for a group assault. By all rights they should have been making full use of their numbers to push through.

There were still bandits behind—that much was clear from the arrows and stones flying through the gate—but they weren’t committing any further than throwing projectiles. To their credit, they were sustaining pressure, but they could have been doing something much more effective.

It could only mean one thing.

“B-Bandits coming from the rear!” One of the villagers who had been keeping watch on the northern gate ran up to them, panting for breath as he gave his report.

“Ngh! They’re attacking from multiple sides!” Arcus caught on a little too late.

“They’re a crafty bunch, huh?” Gilles said with a thin smile. Arcus couldn’t remember when the merchant had ended up next to him again. Even if there were bandits coming from the other side, the village should still have had the advantage. “Pilocolo’s got his guard with him, and lemme tell you, there’re a ton of ’em! They’ll sort ’em out. We just gotta deal with these fellas here.”

“Yeah,” Arcus said.

The guards protecting Pilocolo’s cargo were trained soldiers, and they’d give everything they had to protect it from the bandits. They might even have had more fighting power than the group by the southern gate, and if they really needed help, they could send somebody Arcus’s way. The best thing for Arcus’s group to do in the meantime would be to focus on defeating these bandits here.

It was then that the lackluster attack became more serious. Seeing their chance, the bandits in the rear began to rush the gate.

“What a spot of bother. Everybody, fall back!” Noah called out to the villagers.

“Why’re they switchin’ up attack patterns now?” Cazzy complained.

“It is likely their commander has changed,” Noah said.

He had barely finished his sentence when a large rock came flying over the gate. It slammed into the ground; the earth shook. Arcus doubted they would have a catapult in a place like this, and his suspicion was confirmed as the rock dissolved into the air in a cloud of hex.

“They’ve got magicians too! Everyone get back and spread out, or you’ll just be an easier target for the magic to hit!”

“Things ain’t lookin’ good, huh? What’re y’gonna do, Arcus?”

“There’s tons of stuff left to try.”

“Oh? I knew y’were a smart one! So whaddya got up your sleeve then?”

“Just watch.” It was time to try out the first idea of many. “It’s time for you to take to the battlefield for the first time. Protect the villagers for me.”

Arcus opened up the small window on Gown’s lantern. A blueish-white light sparked inside it and started to put its mysterious power to work. It flashed brightly, then settled into flickering like a will-o’-the-wisp before spilling from the lantern. It split into several smaller flames, until finally those flames gathered together again and burned as one. It changed shape again and again as if kneaded by an invisible hand, until eventually it took on a large, vaguely canine silhouette. It grew six legs, horns, and a forked tongue. To call it a dog or a wolf didn’t seem quite right, and yet it wasn’t clear what else you would call it.

It was Gown’s Phantom Hound, Tribe, an otherworldly creature under the elf’s command.

Gilles let out an impressed whistle, leaning forward with one hand on his tulip hat to keep it on his head. The creature let out an eerie bray, which turned into a deep growl as it glared at the bandits. Each step it took sent blue-white flames sparking up from the ground, as though it were walking the surface of a fiery lake. It leapt at the bandits, leaving a trail of pale flame.

“Wh-What the heck is that?!” the bandits cried out.

“Is it some kinda spell?!”

“No! It’s a phantom dog! It belongs to the wandering sprite, Gown!”

“Wh—What’s it doing here?! We haven’t done anything to Gown!”

The bandits seemed to recognize the creature. Knowing they were against one of the mystical monsters of The Spiritual Age, the bandits fell into a panic. They weren’t even bothering to look at the villagers anymore. They attacked recklessly, desperate to be rid of the hound. Swords swung, missing completely as the creature ran through the air suspended by some unseen surface, flames flickering at its feet. It looked like an inbound meteor against the night sky.

Arrows and stones flew through its phantom body, but when the creature plowed into the bandits, they fell at once as if they’d suddenly lost consciousness.

“Th-There’s no way we can win against something like that!”

“How’re we s’posed to beat it?”

“R-Retreat! Fall back!”

Before the bandits could break ranks, a voice spoke out through the darkness. “Impressive.”

It came from outside the gate. The voice was quiet, but it carried weight. Arcus looked to who had spoken. Moments later, a solitary figure slowly resolved against the blackness, like ink poured onto an inkstone. It was a skinny man in black wearing what closely resembled a beanie hat. His hair was bound behind him, and a single scar ran down one of his bony cheeks. His eyes were as sharp as a hungry wolf’s—and Arcus and his companions recognized him.

“Hey!”

“Ya gotta be kiddin’...”

“My...”

The man stepped forward through the waves of retreating bandits. It was none other than Eido, the man who had tended to the villager on the way here. “I never thought I would run into you three again. Isn’t fate funny sometimes?”

“Eido?! You were a bandit?” Arcus gawked.

“Unfortunately I am. But you should know that I don’t intend to harm these villagers.”

“You think we’ll believe that after everything you’ve just done?”

“No, but it is the truth.”

“You’re gonna say something like you don’t intend to harm them, but your men will, or you won’t do anything, as long as they hand over their women and money without a fuss, right?”

“No. I won’t do anything, as long as you behave for a short while.”

“Huh?” Arcus frowned. He accepted he was one of the bandits, but now he claimed he wasn’t going to do anything? That couldn’t be right.

One of the bandits who was still conscious called out to Eido. “You lied to us! You said there were only villagers here!”

“I did not expect this either. Life is full of surprises, you know. You people were just unlucky.”

The bandit spat. “Don’t think we’re gonna wait around and follow your orders now!”

“Fine. Go. Just follow the rest of the plan.”

The bandits made their full retreat, and Eido turned back to Arcus. “Well? Will you do me a favor and wait quietly for a bit?”

“What do you think?”

“So that’s your response. How unfortunate.”

“Yeah, it is. Y’know, I had you pegged as a good guy, seeing as you were helping a stranger out on the road.”

“You shouldn’t judge an entire person by one facet of their personality. Everyone has a hidden side to them.”

“Yeah, I know that now.”

Cazzy sidled up to Arcus, his scythe slung over his shoulder. He grinned lopsidedly. “Ya gonna fight us, Eido, ol’ buddy?”

“It seems we have already run out of options,” said Noah, unsheathing his rapier.

“You know you’re totally outnumbered, right?” Arcus pointed out.

“Am I, now?”

Shapes started to form one after another in the shadows behind Eido. It wasn’t just one or two either. There were at least ten, perhaps closer to twenty.

“Those aren’t the rest of the bandits, are they?” Arcus said slowly.

“The heck are ya playin’ at? These guys seem a hundred times more serious than the guys before!”

Though it was unclear in the darkness, Arcus had a strong impression that the figures were a pack of hungry wolves, and that Eido was their leader.

“Listen, you two,” he said, addressing Noah and Cazzy. “We’ll defeat Eido first. That should make his underlings retreat.”

Noah stepped forward and Cazzy began to recite Algol’s Grass-Cutting Sickle once more. Eido’s composure didn’t break. He didn’t even move to prepare a weapon.

“You cannot win against me,” he said.

“We won’t know till we try!” shouted Arcus. “Noah!”

Noah rushed forward with his rapier at the ready. It was unclear what Eido would do without a weapon, but Arcus trusted Noah was skilled enough to respond to any sort of attack.

Eido opened his mouth, his voice quiet. “You don’t know until you try, you say? Perhaps I can show you something to change your mind.”

At the split second Noah was in range of Eido, the mysterious man let out a wave of aether. It rushed out of him and knocked into Noah, blasting him clear off the ground. The moment he landed, Noah jumped back slightly to regain balance, raising his rapier again to discourage any further attacks.

Eido’s body was still overflowing with aether, its pressure creating a powerful barrier around him. The darkness around him seemed to spread out further under the effect of his power. It was overwhelming enough to rival the pressure Craib could emanate.

In this world, powerful people tended to exude an air of majesty like a physical force to intimidate their opponent. It was clear just how strong Eido was by the air around him.

“Just ’cause you have a lot of aether doesn’t mean you have the skill to back it up!” Arcus shouted.

“I quite agree, but as a magician yourself, you cannot deny that it gives one a certain advantage,” replied Eido.

“Shut up! You can’t know how hard I’ve worked to level the playing field!”

While Arcus argued, Noah made his next move. He made good use of his footwork to put pressure on the enemy, and it was only as Eido turned to him that Arcus took his chance.

“Black Bullet. Keep the pale horse galloping through the skies in the blink of Death’s eye.”

As he recited his spell, Arcus made his right hand into the shape of a gun in preparation for firing his Black Ammo. Eido seemed to pick up on what he was planning instantly. The moment before Arcus fired, he leapt away to the side. The bullet fired just a fraction of a second too late, hitting the village wall behind him.

“He dodged it?!” Arcus gasped.

“An invisible offensive spell? Impressive, especially considering how short the incantation is.”

“Yeah, invisible, but you still dodged it...”

“Remember this. Experience can teach you instincts that will keep death far from your door.”

Did that mean it was experience and intuition that allowed him to dodge Arcus’s attack?

“That can’t be enough to dodge it!”

“I agree. But didn’t you learn from the Ancient Chronicles that pointing puts you at a disadvantage?”

“Darné hua Neut...the one-eyed monster which turned everything it looked at into black iron.”

“That’s right. The Fable of the Pointing Saints and Sages.”

Noah took advantage of Eido stopping to explain, closing in on him again. Eido dodged the skilled and accurate jab of his rapier effortlessly. Noah kept up the assault, each thrust no more than a glint of light, as he easily matched the speed of any machine gun. Eido dodged every one as though he could see their trajectory clearly.

“You are rather skilled,” Noah admitted.

“The art of rapier fencing is common in Lainur. Of course, I have learned to counter it with the expectation that I might fight your ilk, even if I haven’t learned to use it for myself.”

“Fencin’ ain’t all we have! Noah!” Cazzy cried. Noah leapt toward him, as though this were a signal the two had prepared beforehand. Cazzy struck out with his scythe, sweeping it across the ground and over Eido’s feet—but it went right through them. “Whazzat? Some kinda magic?”

“You cannot simply attribute every unexplainable occurrence to magic,” said Eido.

“Some kinda weird dance then, was it?”

Eido raised his arm. The darkness outside the gate began to ripple, giving rise to a magic circle glittering with light. Just like before, a large rock came hurtling over the gate before falling to the ground. It must have been a meter across and was as heavy as you’d expect; nearby villagers fell on their rears in shock as it slammed into the ground. If more kept coming, everyone was in far graver danger than anticipated.

“Danger on the road ahead. Animal crossing; road work ahead. Watch for falling rocks and crosswinds. Road slippery when wet. Stay alert. Better safe than sorry!”

“Hm?”

“Warning Sign!”

Yellow Artglyphs burst into life and spun into a vortex that took the shape of a magic circle as it attached itself to Arcus’s right leg. Once the circle had worked its way down to the sole of his foot, he stamped it on the ground. The earth shook slightly, and the next second, familiar road signs sprang up all around. The rocks hurtling over the wall were sucked toward the road sign that warned against them.

“Tribe! Help the villagers now!”

Tribe let out a short bark. It began to grab the villagers who were too close to the scene by their collars, pulling them away in a single leap. On occasion a person took two leaps when it grabbed their sleeve. It didn’t seem to pose a threat to any human that wasn’t trying to hurt it, but they still let out screams of surprise as it pulled them back.

Noah and Cazzy stepped back warily to open up some distance between them and Eido, when he began to incant.

“The magpie sings a simple tune. That song flows from the heavens and into the ears of all who stand in the way. A never-ending round. The rain-soaked eaves. Despair from the heavens. The falling rain tastes of iron.”

“Cascading Arrows.”

“Whether arrow or gun, rain is rain: unpleasant, damp. Put an end to the shower. Bring clear skies without thought of tomorrow. May the rain charm’s prayer fall silent!”

“Rain-Resistant Doll.”

Countless arrows plummeted from the black sky. Seconds later, Arcus’s spell came into effect. A huge white doll shaped like a jellyfish appeared in the air and brushed the arrows aside. Eido didn’t hesitate before casting his next spell.

“Bring the bunting down over the spilled ink. Galloping dark clouds. Cast heavy hoods over their eyes. Those surrounded cannot move with discretion.”

“Black Pavilion.”

“Bring the blinding echo of the sun, whether night or day. Fill the sky and cover the earth. Bring the sun to their eyes!”

“Blinding Flash.”

The opponent was trying to impede Arcus’s vision, so it was only right that he return the favor. If Eido made the surroundings dark, Arcus simply needed to bring light. The spells canceled each other out, both of them losing their effectiveness. Arcus took his chance to get the next strike in first.

“A greedy man longs to possess as much as he can without discretion. He is hungry even for the specks of dust on the ground. Take this unprejudiced right arm and receive all that it holds.”

“Scrapped Arms.”

“Dregs and trash must not be dropped where pleased. Bring it to the dump, where it belongs. The bigger the wastebasket, the more it holds.”

“Corner Dust.”

The bandits’ abandoned weapons and arrows gathered around Arcus’s right arm. As soon as it reached the point it couldn’t take on anything more, it pulled his arm forward, along with his body.

“A-Ah! Quick, fly!”

Arcus launched the trash hurriedly. He would have liked to save some of it, but that wasn’t a luxury afforded to him. The arm-shaped garbage was sucked up by the magic circle formed by Eido’s waste management spell. It likely wasn’t meant to be a defensive spell, but a supportive one for daily use whose power Eido had adjusted.

“A ten-span fan in the hand. From sand to snow, blow everything away.”

“Curcelrus’s Giant Fan.”

Arcus waved his hand, which bore a green magic circle, as though summoning a wind. The next second, a powerful gust blew through the area. It burst out toward Eido, hindering his movements with a force so powerful he fought to stay on his feet. Though it wouldn’t cause him any serious injury, it was enough to make incanting a struggle.

“Hmph...”

As Arcus hoped, Eido wasn’t casting anything. Instead, he was shielding his face from the wind with both arms. Finding his opportunity now that the enemy was defenseless, Cazzy used the tailwind to rush in close, bearing his scythe.

“Got ’im!”

“Colorless gauntlet, knock back the sword! Shapeless iron. Ostentatious ornament. Protect me with an unseen force!”

“Left Gauntlet of Transparency!”

Eido’s defensive spell knocked Cazzy’s scythe from his grip.

“Gah! Dammit! Algol’s rain barrel! One barrelful is more than enough for seven days! Come, overturn everywhere! Collecting and transporting water is no burden!”

“Algol’s Watering Can!”

The area flooded as Cazzy turned and made his escape in the brief moment of distraction he’d bought. While turning one’s back to the enemy was never a good idea, Cazzy was almost able to make it safely away without suffering a further assault.

However, once Eido regained his senses, he went after Cazzy, throwing out a hidden blade to strike the retreating servant.

“Work, work. A single pair of hands is insufficient. Lend me one hand extra. I care not for the source. Give it to me.”

“Borrowed Hand.”

A hand appeared in midair and grabbed Cazzy’s scythe, dragging it clumsily back toward him. This spell was an improved version of Psychokinesis. His scythe now in hand, Cazzy managed to deflect Eido’s attack.

“Thanks! I owe ya one!”

“No problem!” Arcus said.

“Cazzy! Please stay back!” Noah called out, beginning an incantation of his own.

“A stone-cold assassin races for his target. Morning mist closes in. The evening dew falls. Shiver at the pillar that pierces the eyes. May the icicles race along the ground and shatter!”

“Frozen Sprint!”

Blue Artglyphs frosted the ground, icicles bursting up out of them. They flitted across the water left by Cazzy’s spell, kicking up a spray, and caught up to Eido swiftly, homing in on him. Their tips broke off as they continued racing across the ground.

“Spring breeze. A mild wind to melt snow and ice.”

“Spring’s Thawing Breath.”

The gentle breeze worked against the icicles. All of them, those which had already formed, and those midway through the process, began to melt. It wasn’t enough to wipe out Noah’s spell completely, but it stalled it long enough to win Eido his escape.

Though Eido was holding his own against the three of them, no trace of smugness showed on his face. It was as calm and composed as ever. The combined spells of the four magicians had ravaged the area in front of the gate. The villagers behind them were frozen prone with shock.

“It’s three against one! This is supposed to be easy!” Arcus complained.

“He has considerable skill,” Noah admitted.

“And his original spells ain’t nothin’ to sniff at. He’s a good fighter, and I’d bet he’d give some of them Institute professors a run for their money.”

He had impressed all three of them, to which Eido responded (his face still composed), “If not for the help I had, I might well be struggling at this point.”

“You don’t even look like you’re tired,” Arcus said.

“It doesn’t do to openly show one’s emotions in the midst of battle. That goes doubly so for the magician, who must remain calm at all times.”

“You’re way too used to magical combat for your own good...”

A shrill voice suddenly sounded from behind them. Arcus looked to the side to find Gilles applauding as though he had just finished watching a particularly enjoyable play.

“Talk about entertainin’! I could watch you guys for hours!”

“Gilles! Jeez! Stop messing around and go help the villagers! That’s not too tough for you, is it?” Arcus said.

“Aye aye, sir. C’mon, folks! This way!”

Clearly unenthused by his task, Gilles set to work dragging away the villagers who had trouble getting up. He kept his narrow gaze fixed firmly on the battlefield, loath as he was to miss a single second of the fight.

More arrows came flying in from the darkness through the gate, which Noah moved in to make quick work of. “Master Arcus. The men behind him are not mere bandits. They are too well-trained.”

“I was worried you might say that. Eido’s way too good too. Who are these guys?”

At this rate, they’d be stuck in a stalemate for hours. It was time to kick up the power a notch.

“Infinitesimal. Join. Focus. Burst gently.”

It was his Dwarf Star spell. Artglyphs flew out at random and gathered into a magic circle which attached itself to Eido. Arcus started to close his hand, ready to pull the trigger.

“Hmph? Tch! The dream of a trickster’s slumber. Illusions in the dark. Floating bubbles. Twilit shadows. Shed the empty skin and let it fall.”

“Escape Shell.”

An explosion of flame blossomed, followed by a powerful shock wave. Eido appeared a small distance away from the blast, even though he hadn’t seemed to make any move to escape.

“That guy’s way too fast...” Cazzy muttered in astonishment.

Arcus spotted movement in the corner of his eye. They were fragments of Eido’s cloak, smoldering as they drifted through the air. “He changed the spell’s target to his cloak! Is there anything he can’t counter?!”

The technique was much like an insect shedding its skin and leaving it behind; something Arcus only knew from ninja movies.

Then, Eido started to open up the distance between himself and Arcus. “Perhaps I was wrong about you, Arcus. You and your servants are impressive indeed.”

“Thanks. I’m so happy I could cry,” Arcus replied.

“I cannot help but be reminded of that man when I see your silvery hair,” Eido sighed.

“What man?”

“Craib Raytheft. Well, Craib Abend, as he is known now.”

“You know my uncle?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, although I have spoken to him on a number of occasions. I know him more as the right-hand man of another.”

“Who?”

Nobody immediately came to mind. After becoming a state magician and joining the kingdom’s military, the king had given Craib his own military force. While state magicians were led by the Magician Guild’s leader, Godwald Sylvester, that didn’t seem to be who Eido was speaking about. Nor did Eido seem willing to answer Arcus’s question. Instead, he turned to Gilles.

“Gilles the Erratic.”

“Huh? I don’t think we’ve met, uh... Where d’you know me from?”

“Is it your intention to fight too?”

“Naw. Not much one for violence, as y’can plainly see.”

“Really, now?” Eido’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Suddenly, a whistling pierced through the night sky.

“It would seem the time is nearly upon us.”

“What time?” Arcus frowned.

“Farewell.” Eido turned on his heel.

“Huh? Hey, wait!”

Was he running away? If so, then that whistle had to be a signal of some kind—but Arcus wasn’t prepared to let such a skilled bandit get away. Tribe suddenly appeared beside him.

“Huh? What’s up, Tribe? W-Wa—” No sooner was the question out of his mouth than Tribe knocked him to the ground. “H-Hey! What are you doing?!”

Four of its paws held down each of his limbs. It began to sniff quickly, before its mouth found the small lever on the side of Arcus’s lantern. Taking it between its teeth, it deftly opened the lantern’s tiny window, then melted down into blue-white flame and returned to the lantern.

“Hey, come back! Hey! I still need your help!”

The lantern didn’t even twitch in response, and by that time, Eido and his troupe had already taken advantage of the confusion to disappear. The air, once fraught with danger from the hungry wolves outside the gate, was still once more.

Noah was frowning out into the darkness on the other side of the gate. “What are we to do now, Master Arcus?”

“I dunno. What d’you think? Should we go after them?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. There is no guarantee that the bandits’ attack is over, and their retreat may well be a trap. I believe the best course of action would be to check the area around the village carefully while making sure it is left with adequate protection on the inside.”

Arcus nodded and started by giving the order to arrest the fallen bandits. His mind was a whirlwind of questions without answers.

Surely their fight wouldn’t end like this, would it?

The assault on the southern gate left practically no victims. After the bandits’ retreat, those who fell to Arcus’s Bewildering Bubble and Tribe’s attack were rounded up and detained. The villagers set up another barricade and stakes inside the gate just in case. The northern gate had also been destroyed, but that side’s bandit detachment had fled with the others. It still remained to be seen whether there were any victims from the northern side, but for now Arcus had left Cazzy behind in the village while he, Noah, and a handful of villagers (and guest) set out to patrol the area for stragglers hiding out within the village walls. It stood to reason to suspect that the retreat might be a ploy to launch a second attack.

“Hmm...”

“Master Arcus, if you are feeling unwell, might I suggest you return to the village?”

“You know I can’t,” Arcus replied, holding a hand to his mouth. The better part of his attention went to keeping his stomach from emptying itself over scanning the terrain. It would’ve been worse if Noah hadn’t been rubbing a comforting hand down his back, but that wasn’t enough to quell the disgust in his chest.

“Huh, so even you can’t handle seein’ a couple dead guys.”

“Can anyone?” Arcus grumbled back at his plus-one.

In the heat of the fight, Arcus had been too focused on casting to really register the mounting casualties; now he took in the scene with sober eyes. He had caught a whiff of men’s internals made external—the commingling of a living thing’s separate elements into lifeless waste—and the nausea struck. He had seen men die in the battle at Marquess Gaston’s estate, but there the end had always been quick and clean: run through on the end of Noah’s sword, flash-frozen, their necks snapped by Cazzy’s magic, or consumed all at once in Arcus’s explosion. Up to this point, Arcus had been allowed a pleasant distance from the reality that a human body is a bag of garbage waiting to be opened and upended.

The humid stench of blood and offal reminded Arcus of the depictions of Hell from the man’s world. Even some of the villagers were left vomiting after the bandits’ retreat. And yet Gilles, who had witnessed the whole spectacle himself, seemed utterly unconcerned.

“Why’d you come with us, Gilles?” Arcus asked.

“Reckoned it’d be safer than stayin’ in the village, since there’s a couple mighty powerful magicians here to protect me.”

“I am obligated to prioritize Master Arcus’s safety.”

“Cazzy’s in the village, so it’s safe there too.”

“Yeah, but he’s one guy and you guys are two guys.” Gilles chortled.

Arcus didn’t trust Gilles’s answer; if he was really as scared as he claimed, he shouldn’t have been out here. Bandits aside, he still didn’t have a good read on the merchant.

“But hey, your magic was really somethin’, y’know? Knockin’ fellas down with noise, or sendin’ them flyin’ away in flames. Gotta be a real creative mind to come up with stuff like that.”

“You can do anything with magic,” said Arcus. “You just gotta have the right words and enough aether.”

“Reckon I’d rather have you as friend than foe!”

“Sure,” Arcus mumbled. “You sure sound impressed for someone who recognized my magic as ‘sneaky,’ though.”

“Huh? What do y’mean?”

“You know what I mean. Remember when I magicked up all those bubbles?” Arcus narrowed his eyes at Gilles and pursed his lips.

Gilles poked his tongue out playfully. “Y’got me, huh? I may not look it, but I reckon I know a fair bit about magic.”

“Thought so.”

When Gilles commented on Arcus’s spell, it sounded like he knew exactly what was going to happen. He’d only needed to look at the bubbles to know they were hiding a more sinister effect, whereas to an ordinary person they would have just looked like regular—albeit oversized—bubbles. Arcus reasoned that he must have deduced the spell’s effect from the incantation. He called himself a merchant, but the fact was that he had a deeper knowledge of magic than he let on—although it would certainly be useful knowledge in his journeys from country to country. Gilles’s secrets may be deeper than Arcus realized.

“Truth is, I’m more impressed with that thingy there.” Gilles was looking at Arcus’s lantern. “That’s uh...what was it? I’ve seen it before. Gown’s thingy.”

“Yeah, Gown’s lantern.”

“Thought I recognized it when I first saw it! Can’t believe it’s real!”

“Gown made me help him, then pushed this thing onto me as thanks.”

“Yup, yup. I sure know how to pick my best friends! Even the elves trust you! I’m seriously proud over here!”

“Who is this best friend? I’d sure like to meet him.”

“Y’kiddin’, Arcus? It’s you!”

“In that case it’s a one-sided thing.” Arcus looked back at the lantern. “I’m still kinda shocked Tribe went against me like that. It just went back into its lantern without listening to me.”

“Maybe it don’t accept you yet.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

Arcus couldn’t come up with a better reason. It did the bare minimum of what it was asked, and then decided it was done. That was the vibe Arcus got.

“It’s probably for the best though, right? I reckon y’shouldn’t chase down a dangerous guy like that too far.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“I mean, he was tryin’ to fight ya out in the darkness. Y’run out there and he’ll have you as a midnight snack before y’know what hit you!”

“There are some—spies, for example—who rely more on manipulating darkness and noise than the power of their magic,” said Noah, who was walking up ahead. “For instance, he might be counting on the fact that your eyes are unaccustomed to the darkness and use it to surround you before you are even aware of it.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Maybe that’s what Tribe was thinkin’ too.”

Arcus had to admit Gilles might be right. Tribe might have realized he was considering going after Eido and moved to stop him.

“Y’knew that guy then?” Gilles asked the villager.

“I wouldn’t say that. We met him on our travels, spoke with him a bit, and then he traveled with us for a short while before splitting off. I never imagined he would be a bandit,” said Arcus.

“Yes. He didn’t look or behave like one at all,” added the villager.

“He helped a fallen man. I didn’t think somebody like that would end up being a bad person.” Arcus shot a glance at the young villager, who nodded in agreement.

While the villager was unwell, Eido had never left his side, keeping a close eye on him. Arcus still found it hard to wrap his head around the magician’s true identity, and he was convinced there was something more to it.

“It’s always the good ones who’re fishy, y’know,” Gilles said, as though he knew what was going through Arcus’s mind.

“You can get fishy bad guys too,” Arcus countered.

“Yeah? If y’can show me some, I’d be much obliged.”

“I would, if I had a mirror on me.”

Even as Noah and Arcus narrowed their eyes at him, their fishy companion showed no concern at all.

“Eido said he knew my uncle, right? Have you seen him before, Noah?”

“I am afraid not. He is likely an acquaintance— or perhaps an enemy—of Craib’s from before I entered into his service.”

“Huh...”

It was frustrating how little they knew about Eido. All they could do was keep searching the area the bandits fled to without straying too far from the village—but there was nothing to be found. It soon became clear no one was hiding out here, and so they decided to return to the village.

Arcus still couldn’t help wondering what the purpose of the attack was. He couldn’t work it out, no matter how much he analyzed the situation. He would’ve liked to put their retreat down to a realization that they couldn’t win, but they hadn’t even stolen or gained anything from the attack. They had just caused damage. Assuming the southern assault was a diversion to open the northern gate, their attack should only have gotten more intense. And yet they retreated so soon after breaking through the northern side, as if their only objective was to get both gates open. Perhaps they just wanted to fatigue the villages’ defenses on either side. These and other possibilities came to mind, but soon dissipated once Arcus realized none of them had any point to them.

The night sky above the village was tinged with red; the villagers had set up more bonfires. They didn’t have many Sol Glasses, so fire was their primary source of light. The mayor approached the second the group stepped through the gate.

“Welcome back!” he cried.

“We didn’t find any signs of bandits camping out in the area. How are things here?” Arcus asked.

“We’ve had a look, but there’s no major damage. We cannot thank you enough for your assistance.” The mayor bowed deeply, and the villagers gathered behind him followed suit.

“You don’t have to be so formal, really,” Arcus said.

“But Lord Arcus! We hadn’t even realized that you’ve been granted powers by an elf! Surely it was the elf, or indeed the Twin Phantoms, who led you here! Thank you so much!”

Arcus chuckled nervously as the other villagers, including the man they helped, thanked him. Every pair of eyes looked at him as if he were some sort of divine hero. Like he was a deity to be worshiped. Was it really such a shock to see Tribe assisting him?

The tales went that Tribe was a dog belonging to the Grave Spirit Gown; it fought with him against evil spirits that sought revenge on humanity, and helped to capture anyone who dared disrupt the resting places of the dead. Villages tended to harbor particularly devout followers of phantoms and elves, so to them Arcus must have seemed like a divine messenger. So long as there were villagers with nothing better to do, the gratitude wasn’t going to stop pouring in. Perhaps, thought Arcus, this was what it felt like to be the founder of a new religion.

“Will we be seeing the formation of Arcusism soon?” Noah said.

“No. I’m not here to start some weird cult. Besides, it’d only make the phantoms and elves mad at me.”

“Seeing as you helped one of them, I’m sure it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Would too. If you’re free enough to crack jokes, go see what’s going on or something.”

From what Arcus could tell, the only victims of the attack were the gates, although the ground around the southern gate could probably be counted too, given the disarray the exchange of spells had thrown it into. The villagers were working hard to take out the stakes and ropes they laid down; they would be finished soon. It was then that Arcus remembered.

“Where’s Pilocolo and his men?” he asked the mayor.

“They departed immediately.”

“What? Really?”

“Yes, although we tried to stop them.” The mayor hung his head regretfully.

They’re gone, huh? But why leave now?

Arcus frowned. It didn’t make any sense. Gilles seemed to harbor the same doubts.

“What?! But the night’s only just started! Doesn’t matter how antsy y’are to go, y’gotta be insane to leave at this hour!”

“I know. I told him several times that it would be dangerous to go out at this time, but he insisted that he must go and report this to the capital as soon as possible.”

“He needed to ‘report’ this?” said Arcus. “Why?”

“He said his cargo was stolen when the northern gate was attacked.”

“Stolen?”

The mayor nodded.

So the bandits were after Pilocolo’s cargo... thought Arcus.

Noah’s brow creased. “How peculiar. Did that gentleman not have several guards protecting him?”

“Apparently the bandits took advantage of the confusion when the gate was broken down to steal his entire cart.”

“Seriously?” Arcus muttered under his breath.

When they were waiting to be granted access to the village, Pilocolo had so many guards with him that they made up an entire convoy. Though Arcus hadn’t counted them, he’d wager there were somewhere between ten and twenty guards. How crafty must the bandits have been to slip past all those men and steal the cargo? There wasn’t even that much time between the northern gate breaking and the bandits’ retreat. It was baffling to say the least.

“Mr. Mayor!”

Arcus turned to see a villager rushing up to them.

“What’s wrong?”

“We managed to get in contact with the garrison. They said they’ll be here as soon as they can!”

“Now that is good news!” the mayor cried joyfully.

Once Arcus and the others had left to inspect the surrounding area, the villagers set to work informing neighboring settlements that there were bandits about. One of those settlements had managed to get hold of a garrison deployed to the area precisely for the suppression of bandits.

They waited for a while, still on their guard, and eventually a troop of armed men showed up to the village. Their weapons varied from swords to lances to bows and arrows, but their armor was uniform. Their equipment looked like it was perfectly made to order for each of them, and everything was engraved with appropriate seals. Their flag hung over their mighty horses, proof of their allegiance to the state. They even had a transport corps following behind them.

Their scale blew any kind of vigilante corps out of the water. There would be no doubt in Arcus’s mind that this was a fighting force of the state, if not for the fact that they were being led by a young redheaded boy with a greatsword on his back.

Arcus reckoned this boy was around the same age he was, although he looked a little taller. What business he had sitting atop a horse and leading a garrison, Arcus didn’t know, but even the older members of the group appeared to be treating him as a superior. Perhaps he was a high-ranking noble’s son. As he looked the boy over, Arcus reasoned that it must have been quite the strict family if it was sending their son out at a time like this to round up bandits.

Rather than armor, he wore the type of practical clothing you’d see out in the town under a cloak. All he had for protection were a pair of carefully crafted boots and a bracelet. There was a single bandage across his nose that gave the impression that he was a bit of a rascal; there was a vitality to his expression that clashed with the darkness of the night. Perhaps “noble’s son” wasn’t the right phrase to describe him. He looked more like a young boy filled to the brim with an adventurous spirit. The most surprising thing about him was the greatsword on his back. It seemed impossible that anybody should be able to carry a sword that was even taller than they were, regardless of the seals on both the blade and the lad’s bracelet that likely worked together to lighten the load.

The mayor took to one knee in front of the boy’s horse.

He’s definitely a noble or something like that...

The mayor then began to explain the situation, and when he was finished, the soldiers moved out one by one, either to help repair the gates or to check the village’s defenses.

Only then did the boy turn to look at Arcus. At first he seemed suspicious, but after an explanation from the mayor, he broke into a satisfied smile. The boy dismounted his horse along with some of the men behind him and came over.

“You protected our citizens, right? Thanks a lot.” His speech was far from the refined mannerisms of a typical noble child.

“S-Sure.” Arcus didn’t know what else to say; he hadn’t expected the boy to be so friendly.

The boy frowned at him.

“What’s the matter?” asked Arcus, frowning right back at the boy peering dubiously at his face.

The boy hopped from one side to the other, taking a good look at Arcus from various angles. He narrowed his eyes and hummed as though trying to focus.

Am I a person to him, or a puzzle?

“You’re...a girl, right? Yup. You gotta be! I mean you’re just so cute!”

“Look, Noah, he said you were cute,” Arcus said, casting a glance at the man behind him.

“It does one no good to avert one’s eyes from reality, Master Arcus,” Noah said. “Those words were clearly directed at you.”

“Play along, dammit! Gaaaaaaaah!” Arcus stamped his feet and let out a mighty roar. He was getting used to being mistaken for a girl, and he didn’t like it. Arcus directed his next yell not only at the boy who was studying him curiously, but the men behind him. “I am a boy! A boy! Male!”

“Huh? Really? You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Can’t you tell from my clothes? No girl would wear stuff like this!”

“Sorry, I really thought you were a girl. I mean, you’re shorter than me and everything.”

“By like, one inch! That’s nothing!” Arcus yelled back.

The boy let out a cheerful laugh. There was nothing to suggest he felt even the slightest hint of awkwardness at his mistake. One of the men stepped forward to whisper in the boy’s ear. That man must have been his advisor or something.

“Master. Master...”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I know. Because this is work, I’m gonna have to ask you a few questions.”

No doubt they were here to find out who exactly Arcus and his companions were.

“Let us go to my house,” suggested the mayor, and so they went to continue things there.

“I’m afraid we only have leftovers, Lord Deet.”

“That’s okay! I love this fish pie!” The russet-haired boy grinned as he took the slice of fish pie offered to him by the mayor. His assistant rebuked him incredulously as he proceeded to stuff his mouth with food.

Later, they were sitting in the mayor’s living room, each to his own chair. In front of Arcus was the red-haired boy, smiling happily now that his belly was full. Arcus felt like he was being questioned by the police, except without any of the threat—though that might have been because he hadn’t done anything wrong in protecting the village. Rather than accusing, the boy seemed excited and curious to be finding out more about the stranger in front of him.

Arcus would have to describe the boy as...cheerful, if nothing else. The way he smiled up at him with his body flopped down over the table reminded Arcus of a puppy. Meanwhile, both of their attendants stood behind them for the meeting. Once everything was in place, the russet-haired boy spoke.

“Lemme introduce myself again. My name’s Dietr—”

“M-Master!” the boy’s advisor suddenly interrupted him sharply.

The boy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he shook his head, as though realizing something. “Huh? O-Oh, right. My name’s Deet. Just Deet. Nice to meetcha.”

“Nice to meet you...” Arcus could only reply normally to his mysterious greeting. The moment he said his name was “just” Deet, it was obvious that something was off. The name was plainly fake, but it wasn’t quite clear whether it was his own idea or somebody else’s. Either way, he wasn’t here as his real self; rather, he was “undercover.”

However, the way in which he held himself and how other people reacted to him meant Arcus had quite a good guess at who he may be; in the meantime, he decided it would be wiser to keep his mouth shut and listen quietly.

“This is my advisor and chaperone, Galanger. The guys outside are all mine too.”

His advisor bowed his head politely. He had a fine physique, but the hairs on his head seemed to be in the middle of a mass exodus. While he appeared to be of a certain status, there was a crudeness to his speech. He gave off the impression that he was a long-standing veteran rather than an ordinary soldier or, to be more specific, an experienced sergeant tasked with assisting a newly commissioned officer. If even he was treating Deet with respect, then Deet was doubtlessly the leader of these men.

Deet was clearly too young to be doing anything of the sort, but in this world, even children as young as him could be tasked with such matters if their status was high enough. The idea was usually to give them experience leading troops from a young age to prepare them for the future. How young was too young depended on the house.

“My name is Galanger,” the assistant repeated after his master with another bow. “From your attire and the dignity with which you conduct yourself, I can only assume you hail from nobility yourself.”

Galanger’s gaze was sharp—the complete opposite of Deet’s bright eyes. It was a merciless look that said he was determined to uncover Arcus’s background no matter what it took. Arcus doubted the advisor would accept it if he said he wasn’t nobility.

This was Rustinell. Having another noble come in from outside without good reason was sure to raise eyebrows and invite dispute. There was a process to be followed if one wished to cross the border, but that wasn’t common knowledge—hence the man’s suspicion towards Arcus.

“My name is Arcus Raytheft. These are my servants, Noah and Cazzy. Behind them is Bud, our guide.”

“Raytheft?” Deet looked like he was rummaging through his memory.

“They are an old viscountcy of Lainur. I believe Arcus is the name of their eldest son.” A curious light appeared in Galanger’s eyes, no doubt because he had heard the same rumors Gilles had.

“What does someone like you want out here?” Deet asked.

“Something important.”

“Important?”

“Yeah. Here: I’ve got a letter of permission from His Majesty.”

“The king?”

“That’s right.” Arcus pulled the letter and the sealed envelope addressed to Lady Louise Rustinell from his bag. Galanger stiffened very suddenly. Presenting something with the king’s seal on it worked particularly well against people of a certain status. Their upbringing had drilled what that seal meant into them, so there was never any need to explain further. It worked doubly so against military personnel, especially the upper brass.

“Might I have a look?” asked Galanger.

“Yes, but please keep this one addressed to Her Ladyship sealed. It is a private letter.”

“I understand.”

Both Arcus and the person he passed it to would be in serious trouble if the letter was opened. Instead, Galanger scanned over the letter of permission. At first he read calmly, but it wasn’t long until he began frowning, as though he meant to take in every last sentence. When he was partway through, he let out a deep sigh.

“What d’you think, Galanger?”

“This is certainly an official letter, and a particularly urgent one at that. You can see His Majesty’s seal right here.” Galanger showed Deet the distinct seal at the very bottom of the letter.

“Hey, you’re right!” Satisfied that this letter came from the Crosellode family, Deet nodded.

The king had sealed the letter of permission too, to indicate that Arcus’s quest for more silver was an order from the crown. That would ensure they wouldn’t be subject to any annoying official processes—within the kingdom itself, at least.

Deet cocked his head. “Why didn’t you contact anyone in advance about this? We could’ve come to greet you if you’d given us some warning.”

“I mean, that’s sort of why we have that letter...”

Arcus’s journey for silver was supposed to be kept quiet. If they made a song and dance of announcing their arrival, they would surely be looked after, but it would also become quite a big deal indeed. It would be far harder to keep the aethometer’s existence secret under such pressures.

Deet and Galanger began whispering to each other. Deet was probably asking his assistant what exactly Arcus meant. He picked up on the phrase “top-secret order,” and soon Deet nodded again.

“I got it. I think I know why you stopped in this village too.”

“Yeah. We’re here because the mountain path was blocked off.”

“This is the best place to stop if you have to divert. No wonder you ended up here,” Galanger added.

“Yep. I gotta ask though: have you paid for your stay yet?”

“I did some maintenance and repairs on some Seal Tools as payment.”

“It was a big help,” the mayor added.

“Huh? You know how to engrave seals, Arcus?”

“W-Well, yeah, um... Why d’you ask?” Arcus hadn’t expected Deet to be so interested, but the boy carried on enthusiastically.

“Could you take a look at mine too, then? Here, on my sword. It’s been acting weird for a while, so I was thinking of taking it to someone anyway.” Deet turned to the greatsword he’d leaned against the wall before hopping out of his seat.

“Master...” Galanger began, the disappointment in his voice biting.

“What? It needs fixing up! It’s my weapon!”

“I understand, but there is a time and a place.”

“Not when it’s something so important! What if there’s another attack before the morning and I can’t slash with this thing?!” Deet pouted.

“With a weapon of that size, even a glancing blow would likely prove fatal,” Galanger responded calmly.

It looked like Deet could be immature when the situation called for it.

“I don’t mind having a look,” Arcus said. “I did just use a ton of aether though, so lemme rest for a bit first.”

“Really?! Thanks a bunch!” Deet beamed at him. It was a smile brimming with innocence, and Arcus was once again reminded of a puppy.

Galanger dipped his head apologetically.

“Were you guys trying to get rid of those bandits around the mountain path then?” Arcus asked.

“Yeah. There’s been a ton of them around here lately. It’s a real pain.”

“Master,” Galanger warned sharply.

“Huh? O-Oh, whoops.” Deet grinned sheepishly. Speaking so openly about the troubles of their county was the same as exposing their weaknesses. In the presence of certain nobles, such a mistake could be deadly, but Deet had only realized it too late.

Galanger’s next sigh carried a hint of resignation as he addressed Arcus. “If you would kindly keep that information to yourself.”

“Of course.”

“It’s the surrounding counties too,” Galanger said. “I have heard that bandits are showing up and causing trouble all over the place.”

“And we’re always too late to do anything about it,” Deet muttered. “Even when we try to ambush them, it never goes well, and I don’t get why.”

Arcus got the sense Deet shouldn’t be sharing these thoughts with him either, but he was still just a kid, so some degree of honesty was to be expected.

“How have you been trying to catch them?” Arcus asked.

“We’ve been disguising ourselves as bandits to draw them out.”

Arcus didn’t know what to say.

“Or we’ve been carrying valuable objects to try and lure them that way too.”

Again, Arcus was speechless.

“We’ve tried almost everything...”

“And has it worked?” Arcus asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“Not at all. I thought they were surefire plans myself, but...” Deet’s disappointed sigh was outmatched by Galanger’s. It must have been tough on the advisor, since he likely had to obey the majority of what Deet said. “We’re in even more of a fix because Prince Ceylan’s in the area.”

“The prince is around?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I dunno why, but I’ve heard he’s gone to Nadar territory for an inspection. Then he’ll be around here, but I’m not sure where exactly he is right now. He might still be around Nadar. But it’ll be bad news if he hears about our bandit trouble. I was hoping we could arrest them before he turns up.”

“There is probably somebody you should be more worried about than the prince,” said Galanger.

“Ugh... Mom’s gonna yell at me so bad if I don’t do something!” Deet buried his head in his hands and flopped down on the table, his eyes watering. Arcus could only surmise that his mother was a frightening woman indeed.

“Either way, we are incredibly grateful for your assistance,” Galanger said, addressing Arcus. “Especially since you held off on killing them. That means we can question those you captured now.”

“Oh, hey! Great idea!” Deet said.

“Had you not thought of it yet, Master?”

“Wh—Of course I had!” Deet insisted, convincing nobody.

“But the most important members got away,” Arcus pointed out. He started telling the story of Eido and how they met him on their way—how he was a powerful magician, and about how they managed to repel his attacks, but that they ultimately couldn’t follow him.

“Was he really that powerful?” asked Deet.

“The intimidating air I felt from him was in the same league as my uncle’s.”

“You are referring to the renowned Crucible, are you not?” Galanger said.

“Yeah. Eido even seemed to know him.”

“From the sound of it, he didn’t seem particularly fond of him,” Noah added.

“I see.” Galanger frowned.

“Speakin’ personally for a sec,” said Cazzy, “his magic was really somethin’. I think he could even hold his own against the professors at the Institute. Well, maybe with one exception.”

“Despite how she looks, Miss Mercuria is rather powerful,” Noah interjected. “Incidentally, I believe this magician holds more aether than Cazzy or me.”

“More than 7,000 then?”

“Yes.”

“Whoa...” Arcus felt his spirit sink. He didn’t know there were magicians with more than four times his own aether. Again he was reminded of just how totally unfair life could be.

“Still, you caught a bunch of them! That should be a big lead, so thanks!” Deet spoke up.

Arcus carried on describing the bandits’ attack—its details and peculiarities. As Galanger implied, the only thing to do now was wait for more information to be pulled from those bandits’ lips.

It was only a few minutes before Arcus and his companions retired for the night that the news came: the captured bandits had been found dead in their cells. They’d poisoned themselves.