Let's Make Something (5)
The third night arrived. Without either of them needing to say a word, Liyo and the male mage stretched out on the stone bed.
"I'm beat."
"So sleepyyyy."
As if by prior arrangement, the two of them yawned in perfect unison.
They were exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Or rather — neither of them felt like resting at all.
Erihi Ronshstein.
Liyo had never met a human whose hands and mind worked so perfectly in sync with her own. His stone-related magic, in particular, had thoroughly captured her attention. It was magic, yes — but it was fascinating. Just watching him work sent ideas cascading through her head.
Interest aside, there was no question the ability was useful for survival.
Liyo grinned, bright and open.
"What should we make after the cart?"
"How about water pipes? Honestly, flipping over a bucket every day just to wash your face and hands is a pain."
"What about furniture? Chairs and desks would be the easiest and nicest. Sitting on the ground to eat like a dog is hardly elegant. Heh heh heh."
"Building a palisade to keep monsters out wouldn't be a bad idea either."
They clearly couldn't understand each other's words.
But engineering thought tore right through the barrier of language. The will to improve what was inconvenient — that was a desire shared by every intelligent being, human or beastfolk alike.
Even if they were enemies.
Liyo understood the man, and the man understood Liyo.
"Hooo… This island's a little cold."
A sudden gust of wind made Liyo curl in on herself. Without so much as a warm blanket — just a thin scrap of cloth — even a slight drop in temperature left her shivering.
She gathered her own tail into her arms and buried her face in it. Soft and warm, even by her own standards. But it still wasn't quite enough.
"Can't we make some kind of heating setup? Like a really efficient lantern, or…"
As if he had read her mind, Erihi pulled out a dark, dull magic stone. The moment he poured mana into it, a wave of warmth rolled out.
"Oh!"
A rock she'd never seen before. Liyo's eyes lit up, bright and sharp.
She turned the magic stone over in her hands, examining it from every angle, then hummed thoughtfully.
"Mmm, it's warm, but the output's a little disappointing."
What Erihi had produced was a luminous stone — the magic stone they'd first obtained after catching a fishman on the island. Infusing it with mana caused it to radiate heat, but not a particularly strong amount.
Liyo pursued efficiency. And a mage, she suspected, was no different.
If they were going to do this, they might as well go for something truly hot — something that could hold up even through midwinter…
She fretted over it for a long while, until her gaze landed on the campfire.
"Ah!"
Liyo clapped her hands together.
"Mage, give me that! That thing!"
"Huh?"
"The one you showed me earlier! The whoooosh! The fire-shooting one!"
Watching her frantic gestures, Erihi seemed to catch on. He drew out another magic stone.
A Haehwaseok.
A magic stone that produced not a spreading fire, but a fire that coiled and clung.
Erihi poured mana into the Haehwaseok. With a sharp fwoosh, the stone blazed to life, scattering heat on a scale the luminous stone couldn't begin to match.
It was stable.
The output was fairly strong, yet the flames it produced were fine enough to form a laminar flow. That wasn't a property of the Haehwaseok itself. No — it was clearly the mage's exceptional mana control that made such a phenomenon possible.
"Ow, hot."
Just holding a hand near it felt like it would leave a burn.
The output was too high to contain as-is. Used raw, it carried real risk of fire or injury.
A shame. If they could solve that problem, they could build a cost-effective heating lantern that would laugh off even winter weather.
But giving up felt like a waste.
Liyo's mind spun into high gear.
Finding the answer didn't take long at all.
Tiria heard it. Sergeant Liyo, sitting beside the mage, wheedling him into sleeping together again tonight.
And she saw it. The mage accepting the request — the two of them now sprawled together on the bed.
"…"
She couldn't believe it.
It had only been three days. Liyo and the mage had known each other for less than a week. Granted, there had been explanations and mediation from Tiria and Rachel early on, and the two of them were Liyo's superiors, but still…
She had never dreamed they would build a rapport this quickly.
Well — better this than mutual distrust and fighting. The Goddess of Healing she followed did preach love for all and the pursuit of harmony, after all.
And yet a strange, uneasy feeling lingered.
Unable to pin down its cause, Tiria fretted absently at her rosary.
And at that same moment, another woman was wrestling with equally complicated thoughts: Rachel.
"…Hah."
Watching the two of them chatting cozily on the bed left her feeling strange.
They were enemies.
They should at least be keeping their guard up.
At the bare minimum, the first few days should have been spent in suspicion.
"Why…"
Why did they get along so well?
When Colonel Tiria Caston had first joined them, Rachel had privately welcomed it. She'd gained an ally — the dynamic had become two against one.
More than anything, it meant she no longer had to speak directly with the mage who was the enemy of her entire life.
But now, two months after the Saint's arrival, nearly three months into their stranding on this uninhabited island…
"…"
She didn't know.
All she felt was a hollow emptiness somewhere inside her.
It wasn't that she had forgotten what happened that day. At the same time, the days of surviving alongside the man after the shipwreck were burned into her mind, refusing to fade.
Watching Erihi laugh and banter with Liyo, Rachel found herself thinking:
So that mage can make a face that pure, too.
Rachel and Tiria exhaled almost simultaneously. Rachel offered Tiria a brief farewell and headed into the lifeboat first. The moment she lay down — whooosh — a chilly wind skimmed across her shoulders.
Cold. A bone-deep, shivering cold.
Lately Rachel's body had been acting strangely. Literally — it would heat up, then settle, then heat up again, over and over.
It wasn't a serious illness, but ignoring it risked it developing into something worse. Tiria's holy power was there, yes, but even her strength wasn't omnipotent.
"…"
Sleep.
Rachel closed her eyes.
This island seemed to run colder on average than the previous two. Without realizing it, she curled into a shrimp-like ball.
She lay on her side and drew her arms and legs in tight — an instinctive posture against the cold.
But then, after some stretch of time…
That cold was melting away like snow.
Warm.
What was this warmth?
Fire?
Had the campfire somehow spread somewhere else?
"…!"
Rachel's eyelids flew open on pure reflex. She bolted upright, gasping for air.
"Hah — hah —"
What rose up was memory. Falling asleep one night, only for mages to set fire to her home — losing her parents, covered head to toe in soot, everything reduced to ash. Nothing left.
And in that moment, a voice.
"Ah, damn. You woke up?"
"Ha… ha… haah."
Rachel slowly got her breathing under control.
There was no need for her eyes to adjust to the dark. She could see the light. It glowed softly, like a mood lamp set in a newlywed couple's bedroom.
Her eyes met the man's. The silence was awkward. After a brief pause, he spoke first.
"Sorry for startling you. I was just going to leave it and head back. You've got sharp ears for night, huh."
"Why are you here?"
"Look at this. I improved the heating stone while you were asleep."
The mage held out a stone glowing a soft blue.
"I sealed a Haehwaseok inside a luminous stone — lowered the brightness, raised the temperature. Got a little help from that fox beastgirl. Actually, a lot of help. Making a thin film out of Sephiron keeps the heat stable without overheating. Safety's better for it, too."
She couldn't understand the mage's words, but the meaning came through.
Don't get the wrong idea.
This was calculated kindness.
"I told you last time — the person who does the hunting deserves the most respect, right?"
Insurance. Something he was putting in place so she wouldn't kill him, and so he'd have leverage if he ever became a prisoner of the Holy Kingdom.
"That's why I'm bringing it to you first. No other intentions — you know that as well as I do."
In other words: hypocrisy.
It had to be. It absolutely had to be.
She was afraid. She was trembling. She would start to waver. She did not want to get any closer to the man who had murdered her two closest comrades right in front of her.
"Well… thanks."
Rachel answered with her usual lack of sincerity. Purely perfunctory gratitude, nothing more.
Taking the stone, she found it sat somewhere between hot and warm.
"Nngh."
"Too hot? Hold on."
The mage recited Whieon, and the brightness dimmed slightly. The temperature dropped with it — settling at just the right level of warmth.
"How's this? Better?"
"Uh… yeah. Whatever."
"It's about the same temperature as the campfire. From what I've seen, you never sleep near the fire, so you keep catching colds. I'll keep making these for you from now on. Wear it like a charm. Don't go causing trouble for everyone else. Got it?"
"I said thanks. Stop yapping and go already."
Rachel waved him off. Erihi shrugged and stood.
And then Rachel caught hold of his sleeve.
"…Stay another five minutes."
"Why?"
"I just… don't trust something you made. Watch it for a bit, then go."
Erihi sighed and sat back down. Even after Rachel fell asleep, he stayed by her side for another half hour before returning to the stone bed.
Two days later.
The engineer and I finally finished the cart. We'd also succeeded in converting the Haehwaseok into something like a freestanding stove, so there was no more need to feel the night chill.
Two decent pieces of work in roughly four days. Not bad.
"Well, that's fine. The Major and I will handle gathering all the food."
The Saint approved the division of labor.
"But Miss Caston."
"Yes?"
"You don't look well at all."
"You're mistaken. I'm perfectly fine."
The Saint tugged one corner of her mouth into a smile. She drew out her platinum rosary — one of the symbols of the Holy Spirit Church — and fretted at it with her fingers.
"Has something gone wrong with your faith?"
"You—!"
"Me?"
"…Isn't it about time? We should be heading out."
The Saint pointed behind her. The engineer was rubbing her bleary eyes and putting on a tearful yawning performance.
"Mage, hurry up. We said we'd make that thing today."
"Ah, that?"
The Saint tilted her head.
"That? What's that?"
"Ah — well. There's something."
I gave an awkward smile.
"We're planning to make something unexpected. It'll take a lot of work, though."
"What is it? At least give me a hint."
Truth be told, my mouth was itching to spill it.
Maybe just a little.
"Something pleasant."
With that, I turned and set off.
For the briefest instant, the Saint's eyes seemed to tint gray — but I decided it was a trick of the sunlight.
After everything I'd done for them on the last island, what more reason could she possibly have to doubt me?