Karuma Empire
The workshop master continued his appraisal of the ogre hide with careful, deliberate movements of his hands.
How much time passed like that, I could not say.
I swallowed dryly, waiting for his answer, until at last he nodded and spoke.
"No doubt about it. This is ogre hide and sinew."
I had only shown him the hide, yet he had somehow confirmed the tendons lying beside it as well.
I nodded and opened my mouth.
"I'd like equipment made from it. Boots and gloves, plus leather armor and a cloak."
"Planning to cover yourself head to toe in ogre hide, are you?"
"Yes."
"Why not a belt while you're at it?"
"Would that be better...?"
"Ha..."
The workshop master let out a hollow laugh, as if my question had left him speechless.
But the laughter did not last long.
His face turned completely serious as he asked again.
"This isn't stolen goods, is it?"
"Stolen? This is definitely mine."
"Hmm... Got any proof?"
"Proof? I'm just placing a crafting order. Do I really need that?"
"It's ogre hide. If it turns out later that this leather was stolen, I'll be dragged in for questioning too."
He spoke with a grave expression.
Listening to him, I had to admit he wasn't wrong.
But what kind of proof was I supposed to show? He couldn't possibly want the full story of how I obtained the hide.
"What sort of proof do you need?"
"Simple enough. If you bought the ogre hide, show me a merchant guild's certificate. If you killed it yourself, show me the skill to match. And if you're an adventurer, your rank badge will do."
The workshop master rolled the hide back up and returned it to me, making it clear he would not accept the commission until I produced that proof.
I glanced at the employee standing beside him; the man nodded at me with the same look in his eyes.
I let out a small sigh.
I hadn't bought the hide, so there was no merchant certificate.
And my adventurer rank badge was only the lowest—Bronze Rank.
Showing that would never convince him.
In the end, there was only one choice left.
I steadied my breath and gave a light flick of my hand.
"This is..."
The workshop master looked around in confusion, sensing something strange. The employee beside him widened his eyes in equal surprise.
But it was still too early for them to be astonished.
I intended to show them everything I could.
It began with a gentle breeze.
A soft wind woven from mana drifted through the shop's interior.
Soon the wind became flowing starlight, and over it a chill of cold air began to swirl.
The spreading blue starlight carried a cool frost as it gathered toward my hand.
The way it spun and was drawn in looked like a whirlpool one might occasionally see on the open sea.
It was not practical. A flashy spell that wasted mana for the sake of spectacle alone.
I could never have felled an ogre with magic like this.
Yet I showed it for one reason only.
The image of a mage.
Rain had told me once. Mages were a closed-off lot.
They guarded their magical knowledge so fiercely against outsiders that ordinary people knew next to nothing about magic.
So if I simply planted the impression that I was a mage who could handle mana, they would stop doubting my ability.
"You... were a mage...?"
"Hah..."
Just as I expected, the workshop master and his employee's attitudes changed completely.
I scattered the whirlpool of starlight swirling in my hand and nodded.
"Well then, I can believe you. You should have said so from the start."
The workshop master gave an awkward laugh and shot a look at his employee.
The man hurried into the back of the shop and returned with a measuring tape.
"My apologies. I promise we'll do our very best."
The workshop master even snatched the tape from his employee and wrote up the order form himself.
Along the way he casually asked me to promote his workshop to the Magic Tower, but of course that request would never reach anyone.
I was not a mage affiliated with the Magic Tower, after all.
"Crafting fee is ten gold. It'll take a week."
"A-a week...?"
It wasn't me who answered.
The employee standing beside him had gone pale as he repeated the words.
The workshop master chuckled lightly and patted the man's shoulder.
"What are you fretting about? You can manage it, can't you?"
"B-but... the other work still left..."
The master cut him off and shoved him toward the back of the shop.
It seemed my commission had just jumped to the top of the priority list.
"Anyway! Come back in a week! Ah, and when you do, wear one of those robes mages put on, would you? Wouldn't want any unnecessary misunderstandings, right?"
With those words the workshop master scooped up the ogre hide and dashed into the back.
He hadn't asked for payment up front, so it looked like the fee would be settled when the work was finished.
I left the workshop and wandered the street in a daze when a sudden curiosity struck me.
The swordsmanship I was using.
I wondered exactly which school the techniques I had learned from that suspicious gatekeeper belonged to.
If I could find the origin of this style, perhaps I could learn the techniques that came after as well.
I hurried toward the Swordsman Guild.
A place packed with people who used swords was bound to have information on the style I practiced.
When I arrived, I found myself standing before an enormous building.
It was far larger and more imposing than the Swordsman Guild where I had taken my rank badge exam before.
The number of people coming and going through the doors never seemed to stop.
I entered the Swordsman Guild and approached the receptionist.
Like the receptionists at other guilds, he wore a weary expression.
"Hello?"
"Hmm...?"
He tilted his head at my greeting, glanced around, then finally spotted me below and looked down.
"Oh. What can I do for you?"
"Is there a book that describes the characteristics of various sword styles?"
"Hmm... a book?"
"Yes. I've grown curious about the origin of a certain style."
"Well, I don't know if you'll find what you're looking for, but there is a library where the sword manuals are kept."
"Oh... where is it?"
"Second floor, far right end. Entrance fee is two silver. Do you have a Swordsman Guild rank badge? If you do, you can go in free."
"Ah, a rank badge..."
I pulled my Bronze badge from my pocket and held it out.
The receptionist took it, shook his head, and handed it back.
"Sorry, but that badge isn't valid here."
"Ah... so it won't work at the Adventurer Guild either?"
"That's right. If you want, you can take a new exam here. Shall I set that up?"
"Yes."
The receptionist brought out some papers and asked me a few questions.
What kinds of monsters I had hunted recently, and my record of activity in the Aben Kingdom.
I left out the part about the ogre; I doubted he would believe me if I mentioned it.
"Seven months of sword training... two months as an adventurer...? Getting Bronze Rank with that means you must have learned from a pretty decent teacher."
"Yes, it seems so, but he never even told me the name of the style. That's why I'm trying to find out."
"Odd fellow, was he?"
The receptionist said that as he handed me a number ticket.
"There's no one waiting right now, so you can take the exam immediately. See that room at the far right end? Go on in."
"Ah, yes."
Following his directions, I approached the room at the end of the first-floor corridor and knocked.
A voice answered from inside.
"Come in."
I opened the door and stepped through, finding myself face-to-face with a female swordsman.
The first thing that entered my vision was her legs.
Long, slender legs and smooth leather boots that rose to her calves.
Black cloth trousers clung tightly to her, giving her a sharp, agile look.
Her upper garments were much the same—a black cloth shirt that seemed fused to her skin, paired with a light leather vest.
"Oh?"
Just as I was startled by the sight of her, she wore a surprised expression of her own.
Our gazes locked in midair.
The first image that rose when I saw those red eyes was a blaze of hot flame.
But that flame vanished in an instant.
"Here for the exam?"
I simply blinked, dazed.
I even forgot I was supposed to answer the question.
The fire I had felt a moment ago had been far too intense.
Had it been an illusion? That searing heat was nowhere to be found in the room now.
"Hey?"
"Ah, sorry. Yes, I'm here for the exam."
I answered and fumbled the number ticket out of my pocket to hand it over.
On the back of the ticket my information was written in brief; when the female swordsman checked it, a faint smile spread across her face.
"You were Bronze?"
"Yes..."
"Hmm..."
"Let's see what you can do."
With that she took a sword standing beside the table, opened another door at the back of the room, and stepped through.
She beckoned me to follow, so it seemed a sparring ground for exams had been prepared behind the room.
I hurried after her.
The female swordsman walked naturally onto the sparring floor.
It was so well maintained that the polished surface reflected faces.
"Ceris, was it? My name's Celion."
Celion said that as she drew her sword.
A cool light spilled forth, revealing the blade; the edge was blunt, so it looked like a practice sword.
Holding it in one hand, she performed a series of strange little tricks.
She slipped the grip between her fingers and spun it lightly, or tossed it gently to reverse her hold.
"Not drawing your sword?"
"Ah..."
At her words I hastily drew my own.
I had wondered if there might be practice swords left somewhere, but there were none.
It seemed I was expected to use my own blade.
I exhaled softly with the sword in hand.
My body began to respond. The muscles in my arms and legs tensed naturally, and more strength than usual settled into my legs.
I had fought several battles as an adventurer.
Drawing a sword and swinging it meant staking your life on the fight.
So there was no signal to begin, no spirited battle cry.
I simply charged straight in and swung.
The first strike was, of course, the downward cut I was most confident in.
Recalling the blow the gatekeeper had once shown me, I swung my sword as if painting pale moonlight.
The moonlight unfurling from the blade was about to reach Celion when she moved.
Her motion was impossibly swift, like a soundless spreading flame.
Her long red hair whipped across my vision, and my sword struck the floor instead.
Clang!
I felt no panic. She was the one administering the Swordsman Guild's rank exam; I had expected the attack to miss.
I twisted my body at once.
With the sudden change of direction came a shift of force.
Right after, the starlight that had been glittering near my heart raced outward.
Mana of starlight stretched into my arms and legs, supporting the muscles and making the sharp turn possible.
The next attack was a thrust.
The fallen moonlight shot forward in a straight line.
In that instant Celion gave a light flick of the hand holding her sword.
Clang!
Sparks flew the moment the blades met.
Watching the shattered moonlight, I wondered.
If I had coated my sword with a thin layer of mana, would the result have been different?
No. It would not have been.
Both of my attacks had failed completely. My stance was broken, and the flow of the fight had passed entirely to Celion.
The moment I realized that, her counterattack began.
"If you keep taking it easy like that, you're going to be in trouble."
The instant her words ended, a heavy iron sword came crashing down toward my head.
It was an unavoidable strike.
Thud!