Reunion (1)

In the past, Kinber ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had taken on merchant work the moment he graduated from the academy.

Determined to learn the trade properly, he refused simply to inherit his father's company and founded one of his own instead. That company grew steadily year after year, until twenty years later it absorbed even his father's enterprise.

A wooden sign hung on a three-story building, painted with the words Kinber Merchant.

Judging by the scale of the premises and the number of employees, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠present-day Kinber Merchant looked like nothing more than a modest mid-sized trading house. No one looking at it now would ever guess that it was destined to become a giant of commerce.

"What's today's artifact trade volume?"

"Not much today, sir. The large houses are still taking most of the artifact business."

At his secretary's report, Kinber pressed a fingertip hard against his temple.

"Figures. But artifacts are where the real money is. What about the specialty-goods deal with Verda Merchant? Today's scheduled shipment looks short."

"It seems the Isco Merchant people have been interfering again."

Kinber's expression changed in an instant.

"Them again? Anyone from our house hurt?"

"Fortunately, no injuries. Only goods damaged, as far as we can tell."

Hearing there were no casualties, Kinber let out a breath of relief.

"Even if no one got hurt, those bastards still haven't kicked the old habits. Do they still think they're street thugs? I'm going to go teach them a lesson myself."

"Please be careful. The Isco crowd has been escalating. Going alone is dangerous."

"Sera, there aren't many people around here who can take me."

Kinber was striding confidently for the office door when—

Thud.

The front door of the merchant house slammed open with a crash.

Some thirty men stood in the entrance. Every one of them wore a hard, ugly face.

"I was just about to go looking for you. Kind of you to walk right in."

Kinber stood on the stairs, looking down at the open doorway.

"I thought I made myself clear. Stay out of our territory."

The voice alone was enough to tell how worked up the man was.

"Still talking like a neighborhood punk. You're a merchant now, not some thug."

Kinber answered in an easy, unhurried tone.

There was reason for his confidence. He was a 3rd Circle Magic Assistant. If his hired guards could buy him the few seconds he needed to finish a chant, he could handle a few dozen nobodies without much trouble.

"As if an old thug can ever kick the habit. Storming in packs, screaming about 'my turf' and 'your turf'—pathetic."

"You little—!"

Crash.

The man flipped a table, and the Isco Merchant pack charged Kinber at once.

Whoosh.

Kinber's fireball streaked toward them. The searing mass of heat that would incinerate anything it touched made them flinch in fear.

From within the Isco ranks came the sound of a chant—an aqua ball, the natural counter to a fireball.

Hissss.

The fireball's flames died at once under ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the aqua ball's flood.

"Magic?"

Kinber froze. He had never imagined the other side would have a spellcaster of their own.

Even a Magic Assistant was not something a mid-sized merchant house could hire on a whim.

"Keh-heh. You think we'd just stroll in after you'd already hit us with magic once? We came prepared."

Isco's ugly laugh rolled through the merchant house.

One-on-one I can take him. The numbers are the problem.

Kinber felt the danger settle in. A mage on the other side was a serious variable.

"Attack. We've got magic of our own now."

Sensing Kinber's hesitation, Isco ordered another charge. Having watched the fireball vanish in front of them, his men found their courage again.

Thud.

"Guh—!"

One of the guards took a fist and went down.

Kinber's spell was snuffed out by the opposing Magic Assistant.

Thud. Thud.

In the meantime the Isco pack was dropping Kinber Merchant's guards one after another. With several men piling onto each defender at once, there was no way to hold them off.

What do I do?

Kinber felt the walls close in. Nothing useful came to mind.

Then his father's words surfaced. His father had always warned him not to get reckless just because he could use magic.

But for years no one had been able to suppress Kinber's magic. The arrogance that had grown out of that streak had brought him to this.

"Ghk—"

The last of the guards fell.

All that remained were a handful of clerks, Sera, and Kinber himself.

"I told you not to get cocky, didn't I? Time to pay for it."

At last Isco climbed to the floor where Kinber stood.

That was when it happened.

"What's going on? Why's the mood like this?"

A boy's voice floated in through the door Isco had left open.

"Who the hell are you? I'll let you walk once—get lost."

Flushed with the thrill of finally settling the score with Kinber, Isco had no patience for uninvited guests.

"Who am I? I'm a friend of the man who owns this place. And from the looks of it, this doesn't seem like a good time for me to leave."

"Why, you little—!"

Seething, Isco glared down the stairs.

A boy in a deep blue robe stood at the bottom.

Magic Missile.

Pew.

"Guh—!"

A sharp whistle cut the air, and three of Isco's men crumpled to the floor.

Until he heard the bodies hit, Isco had no idea anything had even happened.

"What just—? Hey. Talk to me."

"I have no idea."

The Magic Assistant could give Isco no answer. He hadn't seen anything either.

Pew.

The boy lifted his staff, and that sharp whistle sounded again.

"Ghk."

"Guh—!"

More men dropped in the same instant as the sound.

"What the hell is that kid doing?"

"He didn't even open his mouth!"

The Magic Assistant wanted to scream. It was definitely magic—yet the boy hadn't chanted a single word.

"Who is that?"

Kinber was just as curious. The boy had called him a friend, so they clearly knew each other somehow. Even the voice felt familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before.

"Kinber, hold on a little longer."

The boy's voice carried up to him—warm, almost intimate.

"All of you, rush him!"

Isco shouted, voice shaking with fear. The rest of his men were just as terrified.

But standing still wouldn't change a thing. They would simply keep dropping one by one to something they couldn't even see. Better to charge than die like that.

"If we all hit him at once, even he won't be able to stop us."

"Come at him from every side!"

Entangle.

Rumble.

The ground shuddered as if an earthquake had struck. The Isco pack faltered at the inexplicable tremor.

BOOM.

A moment later, vines burst up through the floorboards. They writhed as if alive.

"Aaaagh!"

"No—help me!"

The vines seized every last man of the Isco crew. They thrashed and fought to break free, but it was useless.

In the end even Isco and the Magic Assistant were bound tight.

The Magic Assistant cast Wind Cutter, trying to shear through the vines.

Crack.

The spell left only shallow nicks. It could not cut them.

The others simply screamed and strained, thrashing with everything they had.

"All of you, shut up. Or I'll crush every bone in your bodies."

"—!"

At the boy's words they clamped their mouths shut. They could not defy him. Their lives hung entirely on that boy now.

"Who's in charge?"

"I am."

Isco answered at once. As the boy stepped closer, he held his breath without meaning to—an instinctive flinch away from death.

"I'd rather not see any of you set foot near this place again. Can you manage that?"

"Y-yes. Of course."

Isco nodded so hard it looked like he might snap his own neck. The reek of death had shattered whatever composure he had left.

Not everyone, however, was ready to submit.

When Wind Cutter failed against the vines, the Magic Assistant turned on the caster himself. A massive hand of fire, packed with every scrap of mana he could pour into it, lunged to seize the boy.

Waterfall.

Whoooosh.

The boy did not so much as flinch. A light flick of his fingers, and a colossal cascade of water bloomed in midair. The torrent quenched the burning hand completely.

"How—how are you doing that?"

The Magic Assistant could not make sense of it. That boy was casting 4th Circle magic with nothing more than a gesture.

"You're really beyond saving. I was going to let you off, too."

Magic Missile.

Pew.

"Ssseeehhk—"

A whistling leak of air escaped the Magic Assistant as a hole opened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through his throat. A moment later he went still. After that, the Isco pack barely dared to breathe.

"Don't try anything stupid like that. All of you, get out. And don't ever come back."

At a flick of the boy's hand, the vines holding them released.

Thud. Thud.

"Aaaaagh!"

The instant their feet hit the floor, they screamed and bolted out of the merchant house.

"Baron Veritati?"

Kinber finally recognized the source of that overwhelming power.

It was Baron Remi Veritati—the man he had gone to see only yesterday.

The boy, who had been facing the door, turned toward him.

"Kinber. You don't recognize me?"

He held out a hand as he spoke. Kinber could make no sense of the words.

"My apologies, Baron Veritati. I'm too ignorant to understand what you mean."

At Kinber's reaction the boy smiled, then stepped a little closer.

"It's Ellen."

"Ellen?"

Kinber's eyes wavered. When his focus settled again, he saw the Ellen from seven years ago—the boy who had been imprisoned on Enis for the crime of researching Black Magic.

"Ellen—what happened? Why are you here…?"

In the middle of his delighted shock, Kinber finally registered something wrong.

"Wait. Then you were Baron Veritati?"

"That's right. I'm that Veritati."

"Then how come I didn't recognize you?"

"I was using a disguise spell. Anyway, you know now, so that's what matters."

Ellen clapped the still-dazed Kinber on the shoulder the way he always used to.

"Come on—let's go to the reception room. I want to hear your story."

The gesture was so completely the same as before that Kinber broke into a wide grin as he answered.