The Frozen Sea

The adventurers who had fled never returned, even after morning broke.

They must have assumed the subjugation force had been wiped out by the ogre.

Lycan did not blame the ones who ran. He merely furrowed his brow deeply and let out a long sigh.

After finishing breakfast, Lycan set to work with the remaining adventurers, dismantling the ogre’s corpse. With practiced skill he stripped the hide, parted the flesh, and tore free the tendons.

True to his word, he handed me half the ogre’s hide and half its tendons.

The materials torn from that giant’s body were enormous; even after my bag swelled to the point of bursting, there was still far too much to carry. Lycan solved the problem by summoning several soldiers under his command to shoulder my load for me. They accepted the burden without a single complaint.

This excessive kindness was nothing like before. I could tell at once that it sprang from a careful calculation of profit and loss.

Just how impressive is a mage from the Magic Tower, that a knight would treat me with such courtesy?

“Mind if I walk beside you?”

“Uh… sure.”

Unlike before, Lycan now drifted close to me often, filling the silence with talk. The topics were always the same: himself, the port city of Hafen, and the mayor who governed it. No one paints themselves in a bad light when introducing themselves, of course, but every story he told was carefully slanted. He was clearly trying to leave me with a favorable impression.

The deeper we pushed into the mountains, the more frequently monsters appeared—common goblins, Ice Horns like the ones I had hunted with Rain, and others. Unlike the ogre, these were foes the adventurers could handle on their own.

While serving with the subjugation force I occasionally put questions to Lycan—questions about swordsmanship and about his body. He would give me subtle looks, clearly wishing to steer the conversation elsewhere, but each time I simply closed my mouth and waited. In the end he had no choice but to answer.

“Why is your body so tough, Lycan?”

“This body of mine? It may look fine on the outside, but inside it’s a complete mess.”

He answered with a dry cough. Every time he coughed, black, dead blood spilled from his lips; he claimed it was from the wounds the ogre had given him.

“Still, the other adventurers were blown apart by a single punch from that thing, yet you walked away. The armor helped, sure—but doesn’t that mean your body is stronger than an ordinary person’s?”

I glanced at his dented full-plate mail as I spoke. Lycan gave an awkward laugh.

“The fruit of long training. You’ve heard the saying, haven’t you? Iron grows stronger the more you hammer it. Humans are the same.”

I tilted my head. I wasn’t about to deny that a human body could grow stronger through relentless training—but there were limits.

“Are you using mana, by any chance?”

“A knight is no mage.”

He laughed as he answered, yet I could not believe him. The ogre’s strength had been enough to shake the ground like a small earthquake. Surviving a blow like that without mana-enhanced flesh was simply impossible.

“Lycan. Let me see your hand for a moment.”

“My hand?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated briefly, then removed his gauntlet and held out his hand—a rough, massive thing thick with calluses. I took it carefully and closed my eyes.

Mana of differing natures repels itself. If Lycan truly wielded mana, some reaction would appear the moment I poured mine into him.

Just as Rain had once done, I spun out a thin thread of mana and let it flow into his body. The starlight mana spinning in my heart raced down my arm, through my fingertips, and into him. Lycan flinched as though he sensed something, yet he did not pull away.

In that instant I beheld a great wolf. The beast, revealed for a heartbeat by the faint starlight, vanished just as swiftly—Lycan’s mana had naturally pushed mine out.

I could have poured more mana to examine the wolf more closely, but there was no need.

“Well? Did you find any of that ‘mana’?”

I nodded. He was almost certainly unaware that the mana within him was strengthening his body.

Lycan stared at me in shock.

“Th-then… does that mean I could become a mage as well?”

This time I shook my head. It would be impossible. His mana moved endlessly toward a single purpose, driven by an iron will. If he tried to control it now, that mana would scatter—and his flesh would wither with it.

“Hmm. A pity, that.”

About a week after the subjugation force had been assembled, Lycan ordered the return.

The adventurers rejoiced. At ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first the promise of rich pay had thrilled them, but the long, harsh mountain trek had left them utterly exhausted. I welcomed the decision as well. Covered in blood, dirt, and snow, I looked like a beggar, and a strange stench rose from my body.

The journey back was swift. There was no need to wander; we simply descended the mountain and headed straight for the city.

Leading the adventurers to the front of the mayor’s mansion, Lycan settled the rewards. The mayor kept his word—and even paid an extra bonus to those who had not fled. I received my promised share as well.

Fifty-three gold.

That was the sum that came to me.

Lycan handed over a heavy coin pouch and said, “When you have time, pay a visit to the mayor. He very much wishes to thank you in person.”

His misunderstanding still had not ended. He had surely told the mayor that a mage from the Magic Tower had aided their cause.

“Yes… when I have time.”

I nodded and turned away. The coin pouch in my hand and the ogre hide on my back were tremendously heavy, yet my steps felt lighter than ever.

“Ah, Lycan. So you delivered my message?”

“Yes.”

“And? How did the mage react?”

Pin Riazer, mayor of the port city of Hafen, waited for the knight’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reply. If he could forge a close relationship with a mage of the Magic Tower, he was prepared to do anything.

“She did not seem especially eager for a meeting. Still, she did not refuse. I expect she will come before long.”

“Oh… ohhh… is that so?”

Riazer nodded. Meeting a mage was his dearest wish. He wanted to learn magic—to become a mage himself. Yet the mages had always refused him. The office of mayor of an entire city made them misread his intentions.

This time would be different. Determined not to make any mistakes with the young girl mage, Riazer sent people out to investigate the name Ceris.

Two days later he nodded over the report that had been laid before him.

“Excellent…”

Riazer waited for Ceris.

Yet a full week passed and she never came.

I went to a leather workshop to have the ogre hide worked—and received a rude shock.

“What? You can’t work ogre hide?”

“That’s right… To handle this properly you need a special softener, and the import of that reagent has been cut off.”

“That can’t be… Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Go where the reagent still exists—to the Karuma Empire.”

“The Karuma Empire? Where is that?”

“Across the sea. A month by ship will get you there.”

I left the workshop with a heavy sigh. I had been so full of hope that the ogre hide would become proper armor, only to learn it could not be done here.

Refusing to give up, I visited every other leather workshop in the city and asked the same question. The answer never changed. Without the reagent, no one could work the hide.

“Surely some of the reagent remains in the capital, doesn’t it?”

“Imports stopped over a year ago. Whether any is left… better not waste the trip. Head for the Empire instead.”

I chewed my lip at the craftsman’s words. But what choice did I have? In this country, ogre hide simply could not be worked.

After long deliberation I finally turned my steps toward the harbor.