Completion

Joseph began artifact production in earnest.

The first thing he did was hand Zalier's grimoire to Toban.

"This is...?"

"A grimoire on artifacts."

"What?!"

Toban's eyes flew wide at Joseph's words.

Back when he'd sat for his interview at the inn, he had carved an artifact — but he'd assumed that was only because the peculiar shape was so difficult to reproduce. He'd never imagined that what he was making would actually be an artifact.

"W-wait. Magic? A grimoire?"

And on top of that, his employer had just handed the book over to him outright.

Toban didn't know much about grimoires, but he knew enough to understand they weren't the sort of thing you passed around lightly.

"I-I really don't think I should be taking this..."

Toban trailed off, clearly uncomfortable, but Joseph's mind was already made up.

He had spent a long time hunting down grimoires by any means he could — but honestly, he felt no attachment to a book he'd already gone through cover to cover. Getting your hands on a grimoire didn't make you a mage. A grimoire only had value if you could already handle mana. Without that, reading one was more or less pointless.

It still carried a faint trace of mana — probably from being kept on a mage's person for so long — but that was all.

Better to let a craftsman read it himself.

Having the artisan understand the method firsthand would be far safer than clumsily barking instructions at him about what shape to make.

"Give it your best..."

The private soldiers watching this patted Toban on the shoulder in what looked a lot like sympathy. And they had reason to. These were men who had lived at Joseph's side and seen how he spent his days.

The moment he had a spare hour, he sank into meditation. He'd sit in front of a furnace from dawn to dusk. When wind and rain rolled in, he'd wander outside in nothing but his clothes.

To them, Joseph was a good employer worth their loyalty — and also a mage who was, just slightly, out of his mind.

And now Toban had inherited one of those grimoires. They could more or less picture how this was going to go.

"Start by reading that, and spend some time making samples."

Joseph simply dumped the materials Braham had brought on him as well. Toban looked visibly flustered, but of course he had no say in the matter.

As a precaution, Joseph assigned Jiren as his escort, then ordered two pieces completed from each material.

I need to find materials that can be used at least twice.

Everything Joseph and Derik had cobbled together so far had been strictly single-use — and even then, they hadn't produced proper ice. But with Toban on the job, the plan was to finish something that could generate real ice, multiple times over.

The moment we have that, we mass-produce and hand it off to Braham.

Originally, Iceberg came out about the size of an adult man's upper body. If they could pull that out of a small artifact over and over, the efficiency would be enormous. Nobles and merchants alike would take an interest, obviously.

Selling it is Braham's problem, of course.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Joseph had a vague sense that dumping something like this on the market all of a sudden could cause any number of problems. He just didn't feel like worrying about things that hadn't happened yet. If a problem came up, he'd deal with it then.

It was a somewhat crude way of going about things — but at the same time, nothing else moved this fast.

While Toban read the grimoire and finished his work, Joseph took Derik, Auk, and even Givra and headed out of the city. He figured it was time to get some magic training in, for the first time in a while.

After the business in Malešov, he hadn't had a proper chance to train. He'd inspected the shaman's cave, treated his wounded soldiers, and on the road down to the Favidia Region he'd been researching artifacts. Even after arriving here, he'd spent his time on artifact production and distribution. Which was why it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been so long since he'd last gone out to train.

"If we head that way, there's a coastal cliff."

Once they passed through the city gates, Givra pointed toward the western shore. Joseph had asked the man — who'd lived in the area a long time — for a quiet, open place, and Givra had mentioned a decent cliff, so he'd asked him to lead the way.

"A coastline, and nobody's there?"

"It's a coast in name only. Just a cliff with a bit of sand on it. The waves are too rough for fishing, so nobody bothers coming out."

"That'll do."

More than anything, the lack of traffic suited him.

They walked a little farther and arrived at a beach with the cliff in view. Joseph immediately started looking for a rock that would make a decent seat.

"Your turn this time."

"What? It's usually Jiren."

"He's at the workshop."

Derik and Auk muttered between themselves while Joseph hunted for a suitable spot. Ever since they'd become Joseph's private soldiers, something always went wrong whenever he trained. They couldn't help themselves.

The two of them whispered a little longer, then Auk let out a small sigh and took up position at Joseph's side.

"...What's he doing?"

When Givra asked Derik, Derik gave him a puzzled look.

"Did I not mention it? He's training."

"Training? Magic training?"

Derik nodded as if it were nothing, but Givra couldn't hide his dismay.

Unlike the soldiers, Givra had lived in the city, so he'd picked up a certain amount of knowledge about mages. A mage's training was an intensely private affair. You didn't show it to anyone. Not even family, as a rule. Magic training meant putting every ability you had on full display. To so openly reveal that secret mystery — a mage's image, their very assets — was a strange thing to do.

"Huh..."

Givra's gaze drifted toward Joseph. The mage didn't seem particularly concerned about Givra's presence. He was still checking over his seat.

Have I... been acknowledged?

Givra looked moved and, at the same time, faintly unsettled, as if he wasn't sure this was quite right. To think that he, a former low-ranking mercenary, had reached the point of standing watch while a mage trained...

But wasn't this trusting him a little too fast...?

The truth was that Joseph, like his soldiers, was from the countryside and had no idea how other mages did things. And even if he had known, he wouldn't have cared much. But Givra had no way of knowing that.

In any case, having found a decent spot, Joseph swept his staff. A Mana Orb rose into the air, and he sent it out over the sea.

The moment he spoke the incantation, the Mana Orb twisted into a ring — and then, in the next breath, into a vast vortex. Thanks to the experience in Malešov, perhaps, it held far more stably than it had before. The whirl hung in the air for a moment, then faded. It didn't explode into a blast of gale-force wind the way it used to.

I've more or less gotten a feel for the mana ratio.

Joseph swept his staff again. This time two Mana Orbs rose into the air. He sent them out over the sea the same way, then spoke the incantation at once.

The remaining orb began to spew flame. In the next instant it was sucked into the vortex, twisting into a roaring red pillar. Warm heat came riding in on the sea wind.

"...Good."

Joseph watched until the firestorm died, then nodded. Wind and flame. It was the same combination he'd used when they took down the troll. Back then he'd exploited a clumsy Wind Runner and turned it against the beast; this time there was no need for that. The two spells could be combined. Confirming that much was enough.

I threw it together in a hurry back then... but it might be more useful than I thought.

Flame Road hit hard but narrow. Storm Wall covered a wide area, but all it really did was whip up a broad vortex. Put them together, and you could produce something like an area attack on relatively little mana.

Joseph started to sweep his staff again, then stopped.

Storm Wall had come together stably, so he'd meant to check Wind Runner while he was at it. Then he thought about it — and realized there was no way to test Wind Runner.

At its core, Wind Runner was a buff spell that accelerated the user's movement. The problem was what happened if it failed: uncontrolled, condensed wind would tear straight through the limbs. A troll's body might take it. An ordinary person would simply be shredded to death.

He wanted to know whether he could control it. He just couldn't afford to use it carelessly.

If Joseph had been a slightly more selfish kind of villain, he might have gone and bought a slave. Caladon was a commercially developed port city; if he looked, there would be a merchant selling them. But Joseph was not the sort of man who would do that to test his own magic. If he had been, he would have found a method long ago.

If I'd run into bandits on the way through Favidia, maybe...

Unfortunately, he hadn't met anyone of that sort on the road from Malešov to here.

"..."

Joseph's gaze slid, just slightly, toward Auk at his back. The moment Auk caught that look, he took an instinctive step backward. He had sworn he would give Joseph his loyalty for taking him back — but that didn't mean he wanted to become a test subject.

Of course, Joseph had no particular intention of using him as one. What he was looking at wasn't Auk. It was the armor Auk was wearing.

Quality metal armor, taken off Manir's men. If he could get a few more sets like that, putting them on someone sturdy and running a test didn't seem like the worst idea. Cover the face well with a helmet and they wouldn't get hurt.

Come to think of it — why didn't that armor have a helmet?

The thought crossed his mind, but with Manir gone there was no way to find out. In any case, he decided to put the Wind Runner test off for later.

Which left the last one.

The third spell in the Book of Wind, and its only offensive magic.

Slicer.

Like Wind Runner, this one hadn't come under proper control until the fight with the troll. He'd ended up knocking the thing down and detonating it from below.

Originally, it should fire condensed wind at a chosen point.

Holding down that rushing, compressed wind would take a more delicate touch with the mana ratio. This time Joseph floated a Mana Orb with care, sending it as far out as he could, and as low as if it might kiss the water. He already knew, from several occasions, exactly what this spell looked like when the control failed. A roof. A troll's belly-hide. Things of that nature.

As expected, the Mana Orb began to condense, shrinking down small.

"...Oh?"

But unlike before, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠compressed orb didn't so much as twitch. It hung there, frozen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in place. It looked like a bowstring drawn to the limit — except the hand hadn't slipped, and the arrow hadn't flown.

"Ohh...!"

Watching from behind a boulder, Derik let out a small sound of awe. He'd nearly been carved up by that spell once before, which was why he'd ducked out of sight on reflex. Givra stood beside him with a puzzled expression.

"Hm?"

That was when Auk made a strange noise. His eyes were fixed on the top of the cliff.

Someone was up there, watching Joseph train.

Auk shouted on instinct — and with that, Joseph's concentration broke once again.

And then.