Arrival at the Karuma Empire
After roaming the frozen sea with the sailors, I learned that not every stretch of water had turned to ice.
The frozen path had an end, and beyond it the blue seawater still flowed free.
Gazing out over that frozen expanse, I recalled a story a boy had once told me—about the dragon Kashipa, who slept in the snowy mountains.
The boy had said Kashipa’s wrath would stretch this winter long and bring a cold no one could endure.
Perhaps this frozen sea, too, was the work of that dragon.
The sailors seemed to remember the same tales; they began murmuring among themselves, and Kashipa’s name slipped through their voices.
The captain barked at them, loud enough to cut through the chatter.
“Quiet, the lot of you! You think Kashipa’s going to come all the way out here? Use that breath to smash ice instead!”
The sailors snapped into motion at once. They hauled out great hammers and sharp spikes and set to work carving a path.
Ice formed of special mana never melted, no matter how long it sat—but luckily its hardness was no greater than ordinary ice.
I joined them. Wrapping mana around my sword, I shaped a thin edge and drove it into the ice; the way opened with ease.
“I knew taking you aboard was the right call.”
The captain watched my work with open satisfaction.
And so the labor of cutting a path went on for a long while.
The sun rose and set, rose and set again, while we shoved the cut blocks and shattered shards out of the way.
One day a sailor working beside me asked,
“Mage, can you make something like a big fireball?”
“How big?”
“Say… as big as our ship?”
“If I had enough mana, yes.”
“So right now you don’t?”
“That’s right.”
“Magic’s a complicated craft, isn’t it.”
What he wanted was for me to raise a colossal flame and melt the entire frozen mass at once. Sadly, that was impossible for the moment.
That evening, after supper, I was about to turn in when the three Mana Circles formed near my heart spun furiously—and the innermost one simply vanished.
“Ah…”
I stood there with my mouth open.
The circle had not been destroyed. It had simply dissolved completely into the mana I already held.
I realized I could call upon the frigid mana of the Karum Mountains whenever I wished.
The inner world I had shaped grew deeper still, and the total mana I could command increased a little.
It was a pleasant sensation.
Upon that endlessly unfolding little world I set a single cold star.
After roughly five days the work neared its end.
Seawater flooded the long channel we had cut, and the ship began to move.
If we simply rowed forward from here, we would leave the frozen sea-road behind entirely.
The voyage was returning to its proper course.
“Cast off!”
The captain’s voice rang out. The sailors took up their oars in answer and soon broke into a lively work song.
That singing was a kind of magic itself—it let them forget the hard labor, if only for a while.
The moment the ship slipped free of the frozen path and floated on open blue water, the sailors sang even louder.
After that the voyage met no real trouble—except that the longer-than-expected journey forced us to ration food carefully.
The ship raced onward. We weathered storms now and then, and once glimpsed a massive monster swimming far off in the deep.
On the thirty-fourth day after we set sail, we finally reached the harbor of the Karuma Empire.
Not long after we docked, a visitor came aboard.
He claimed to be an official of the Karuma Empire. The captain greeted him like an old acquaintance, shook his hand, and slipped a purse of coins into it.
When I asked what that was about, the captain answered,
“A bribe. Entry procedures are a tedious, drawn-out business, so we handle it this way.”
“Oh…”
“If you ever get tangled in something bothersome in the Karuma Empire, try greasing the palms of the local guards. Most problems clear up fast.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Illegal? Haha! Only if you get caught!”
I filed the captain’s words away carefully.
Still chuckling, he turned to me.
“Well, mage. It’s been a pleasure sailing with you.”
“Same here.”
“We’ll be heading back to Lupen in about a month. Come find us if you need a ride—free of charge again.”
After our farewell the captain assigned a few sailors to me for a short while, to carry my luggage as far as an inn.
They seemed sorry to part; one muttered something about a daughter left at home.
The harbor of the Karuma Empire was vast beyond any comparison with Lupen.
Tall buildings rose high, the streets were scrubbed clean, and the public order looked solid—no drunks sprawled in the gutters. Of course, anyone who did lie down in this weather would freeze solid.
The sailor who helped with my bags recommended a decent-looking inn. He praised the cooking so highly that, even though it was not lunchtime, the place was packed with customers.
I paid a week’s board in advance and received a room key.
Time to part with the sailors. They carried my things up to the room and then strode off cheerfully.
I unpacked, changed into comfortable clothes, and went downstairs to order meat, wine, and hot water for a bath.
With a full purse, a little luxury felt only natural.
While I soaked in the water the inn staff brought, I drank.
The body of a thirteen-year-old girl who could not hold her liquor was thoroughly drunk before the bottle was empty.
“Ah…”
A body warmed by the bath and a mind fogged by wine made clear thought impossible.
Before I could do anything foolish I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.
A solid land bed, free of any rocking, let my mind sink into sleep quickly and peacefully.
“Ugh…”
I crawled out of bed with a hangover.
The rising nausea told me last night’s meal had not settled properly.
I opened the window and let the cold wind hit my face.
The morning sea breeze blew hard and ice-cold; it woke me completely.
I looked at the luggage dumped in the corner.
I had come here to have the ogre hide processed into gear.
There was no real hurry, but I had nothing else to do, so I dressed to head straight into the streets.
Against the cold I pulled on two pairs of cotton trousers, socks, and deer-hide boots.
On top went a thin cotton shirt, a thickly padded gambeson, a wolf-fur hood, and the Ice Horn cloak; I slung my sword over my shoulder and that was that.
I heaved the rolled ogre hide onto my back and left the inn.
Getting lost in a foreign city on the first day was not an option.
I stopped at a general store near the inn and bought a map of the city.
“Let’s see…”
I unfolded it at once and checked my bearings. It did not mark every facility, but the landmark structures along the streets were enough to orient myself.
The leather workshop I needed lay straight ahead past the city center, according to the map.
I set off at a brisk pace.
Walking brought me to the central square.
There was plenty to see: bards with instruments, puppeteers staging short plays with dolls. Children made up most of the audience for the puppet shows.
I paused a moment to watch them.
Kids clinging to their parents’ hands laughed with pure delight, and the sight made something in my chest twinge faintly.
“Hmm…”
After a brief hesitation I approached a guard standing on the street.
“Excuse me.”
The guard inclined his head slightly. He did not answer, but his expression was not unfriendly; he would hear me out.
“Where do I go if I want to send a letter?”
“A letter? Writing home, are you?”
“Something like that. Can it reach a foreign country?”
“Best try the Adventurers’ Guild.”
“Thank you.”
I bowed my head in thanks, and a faint smile touched the guard’s face.
I opened the map again and headed straight for the Adventurers’ Guild.
I had not known it, but letter delivery was apparently one of the jobs adventurers took on.
The receptionist lent me a fine-looking envelope, stationery, and a fountain pen.
I wrote the letter then and there.
It’s Emily.
I’m doing well.
I’m not coming back.
Short, but it packed a punch.
I read over what I had written and nodded.
Once the ink dried I folded the paper, slipped it into the envelope, and sealed it with wax.
I handed it straight to the receptionist.
“I’d like this sent.”
“All right. Address?”
“Address… Aben Kingdom…”
I started to speak and then closed my mouth.
I knew the name of the kingdom, but not the name of the village where I had lived.
The receptionist blinked as if wondering what the problem was.
“H-Hans the village chief’s place…”
“Village Chief Hans’s place…? You’re sure that’s all right?”
“Ah, yes—and add Emily’s house.”
“Hmm… Aben Kingdom, Village of Chief Hans, Emily’s house.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“That’ll be two gold.”
I counted out the coins and passed them over.
He told me the letter would take more than a month to arrive.
Just knowing I had sent it lightened my heart.
I left the Adventurers’ Guild with a lighter step and made for the leather workshop.
The street where the workshops clustered reeked of harsh chemicals. I stepped into the largest one.
The smell inside was strong enough to make my head ache.
“Welcome!”
True to an empire, the leather workshop kept separate staff for sales and customer service.
I spoke to the young man who approached.
“I’d like to commission some work.”
“A commission? One moment, please.”
He answered politely, disappeared into the back, and returned with paper and pen—apparently to fill out an order form.
“Have you brought the leather yourself?”
“Yes.”
“I see… leather provided… What kind of leather is it?”
“Ogre.”
“Ogre… ogre…?”
The clerk tilted his head and looked at me as if to ask whether I was serious.
I nodded.
“Would you wait just a moment?”
With that he vanished into the rear of the shop again.
When he reappeared he was accompanied by another man. The way the other clerks greeted him made it clear he was the workshop’s master.
The moment he saw me he asked without preamble,
“So. You’re the one who claims to have ogre hide?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s have a look.”
I nodded, unslung the ogre hide from my back, and unrolled it for him to see.