Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Let's Pretend We Didn't Hear That?
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Let's pretend we didn't hear that?
"Um, don't be so upset..."
"......"
"There are way more people in the world who can't use magic."
Despite Arwen's desperate attempts to console me, I kept my head buried on the table, wallowing in despair.
Magic? No talent for it.
When I heard I had no talent for swordsmanship, I figured there was nothing to be done about it.
It was like scratching two lottery tickets and one being a dud—there was still another chance left.
So unconsciously, I'd assumed I must be the mage type.
But nope, that wasn't it either?
"I'm trash..."
No talent in a fantasy world?
Why the hell did I end up here?
"...Did you want to use magic that badly?"
"......"
To be honest, yeah, it was a fantasy of mine.
Flinging fireballs, blasting water, whipping up wind.
Who wouldn't want to try it at least once?
"Being a mage isn't all that great, though..."
"...That's probably because you can use magic, Arwen."
"Hmm. Well, to cheer up our young master here, I guess I should shatter some illusions about mages."
"......?"
Arwen nodded.
She rested her chin on her interlaced hands and spoke slowly.
"What kind of magic did you want to use, Young Master? Fire? Wind?"
"All of them..."
"Ahaha, so greedy. But do you know what happens if you can use magic?"
"...What?"
"They start calling you everywhere."
As she said it with a beaming smile, Arwen's expression somehow felt hollow.
"Talent for fire magic? Off to the battlefield you go. Water magic? You know this? Mages from the Blue Tower get dragged to clean the sewers periodically—it's mandatory."
"Umm..."
"Gold Tower mages have it even worse. They're summoned nonstop to expand buildings, flatten mountains, and if plans change later, they have to refill the dirt they just dug up—all before the next day. Green Tower in summer? Hell. Dragged around by nobles, casting spells all day."
"Don't they have magic tools for fans... no, wind generation?"
"Ah, you've never seen one, have you, Young Master? Green Tower mages can make cold wind."
"Ah."
I got it instantly.
In a medieval fantasy world, toughing out the heat with crappy wind magic tools—then suddenly skipping straight to air conditioning?
They probably wouldn't survive it; their constitutions would change.
Eyes would roll back, and it'd be, "Darling, we should hire a Green Tower mage for Mother's house."
"But I'm a noble..."
"Think nobles get a pass on duties? Your estate will ship over a pile of spent magic stones right away. 'Fill them up in your spare time since you're not using mana anyway.' It's exhausting."
"Mm."
"The Empire isn't rich enough to let mages sit idle. There are even rumors that noble-born mages hide away."
It felt like I'd glimpsed some abyss.
Come to think of it, this world has widespread magic stones and tools.
Monsters only drop so much, so mages must always be in short supply.
Yet the Empire runs smoothly, with even commoners' homes using magic stones.
Where does all that mana come from?
According to Arwen, the Empire doesn't let mages slack off.
So they must source it externally—scan every criminal in prison first...
"......"
Yeah, up to here.
Digging deeper felt like it'd lead somewhere bad.
"Still, if you really want to use magic, it's not impossible..."
"...Really?"
"There are three ways."
Three ways?
I straightened up, leaning in to listen to Arwen—our mage's last shred of pride and genius.
"First is hiring a mage to keep by your side. It'll cost a fortune, though."
"Umm..."
Not some shadow partner—that's too much.
The end result is similar—you get magic on demand—but it's not me casting it.
"Next?"
"Second is using artifacts."
"Artifacts? Different from magic tools?"
"You'll understand better seeing one."
Arwen slowly removed her pointed hat.
She reached inside and pulled something out.
"Ta-da."
A metal case with a white mouse inside and a gem-embedded glass shard.
Reacting like 'How'd that big thing fit in the hat?' would just out me as a magic noob.
It's probably some expanded space magic tool.
"This is an artifact. Found occasionally in deep dungeons or ancient ruins. This glass one's power is..."
Arwen held the glass to her eye and peered at the mouse in the case.
Then...
"Yap."
-Squeak! Squeak?!
...The mouse started spinning the wheel like a windmill.
Literally.
"...What is that?"
"It wraps the target in a barrier that reduces friction to near zero. Super slippery."
Arwen gently removed the glass, and the mouse wobbled, steadying itself.
-Squeeeak!!!!
It roared at Arwen and charged to the corner, furiously running on its wheel in rage.
"Impressive, right?"
"Whoa... yeah, that's pretty good."
Depending on use, it's cheat-level.
The more familiar someone is with their senses, the bigger the opening when activated.
This hard-counters sword masters completely.
"But what if you used it on a person?"
"Dunno, would they slip like the mouse?"
"Yap!"
"Whoa?!"
Damn it!
I curled up like a newbie cook seeing a knife suddenly swung my way.
Protect the head if you fall.
Bracing for impact...
"......?"
"Sadly, human mana resists artifact effects, weakening them a lot."
"......"
"Plus, this alone could buy a small mansion."
I cautiously stood and walked on the parlor floor.
It wasn't icy wood—just marble slickness.
Okay, analysis complete.
Trash tier confirmed.
"...Next method?"
"Well, the last one needs some luck... contracting a spirit."
"A spirit?"
"Spirits are born from ether, so if they can draw mana from the contractor, they can cast magic. That's why even ether-blind spirit mages exist."
Right, how'd I forget spirits exist?
Fantasy worlds have them by default.
No need for tedious training or research.
Just have one tag along—longer lifespan than me, sturdy shield. Ricebowl life.
"Problem is aptitude... Mind pressing your finger here?"
I extended my hand toward the box Arwen pulled from her hat.
She nodded, fiddled with it.
"Ow!"
A tiny needle suddenly pricked my finger.
Not painful, but sneaky—pissed me off.
"Needed blood to check aptitude."
"......"
"Sorry, your reactions were too fun, so..."
Arwen grinned sheepishly.
Damn, good thing I'm a conscientious noble. If I were normal nobility, she'd be gone already.
"...Luckily, your mana pattern shows aptitude!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, this tool spreads the mana in your blood thin and wide, binds attracted spirits... Just wait a bit for a reaction!"
Spirits rock!
Ricebowl rocks!
Heart pounding, I clasped hands with Arwen, watching the magic tool on the table.
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......?"
An hour later.
"Huh, why isn't it working...?"
"...Maybe it's broken?"
"No way! Do you know how much I spent making this...!"
"Ah, you made it yourself."
"......"
"This can't be... It should react even to hamster mana if there's aptitude..."
"My mana's sub-animal level...?"
"Trust me. The tool's working fine, so if we just wait..."
"......"
"...Don't look at me like that. Believe me for real...?"
-Beep.
"Yes! It's here...! Finally reacting!"
"...Oh, really?"
I closed the book I was reading and slowly rose from the sofa.
Sunset already—dusk.
No reaction for so long, I figured she'd stay for dinner at least.
Good thing she had some conscience.
"Wh-what? Aren't you happy?"
"Nah, dragging on like this kinda..."
My mind was already in acceptance mode.
Taking this long? Probably not some amazing spirit.
More like adopting a cute pet.
-Click.
Arwen opened the box. Inside: brown fluff tied with yellow thread.
Fluffy and cute.
That's the spirit?
Sight of this unknown lifeform reignited my sunken expectations.
"Whoa! Contract now?!"
"Hold on. Need to check contract terms, background, growth conditions..."
Arwen opened the metal case, put the mouse on her hand.
Brought it close to the brown spirit.
-Squeak, squeak!
-Wong.
-Squeak? Squeeeak!!
-Wooong.
...They started chatting.
"What're they doing?"
"Oh, this one's a spirit too."
"......"
Not an experiment rat, huh.
Well, Arwen's a mage. Figures she'd carry one.
Was my guess too trashy?
-Squeak!
The rat finished talking, climbed Arwen's arm, whispered in her ear.
"...Really? For real? Ah, so that's why..."
"What'd it say?"
"No age—just awakened. The lack of reaction wasn't no spirit coming..."
Arwen pointed to the needle with my blood.
"It ate all the leaking mana here. Grew from micro-spirit to low-grade, triggering the tool."
Ah, a baby spirit?
Wasn't expecting much, but not too disappointed.
It's cute!
I gently stroked the tip of its fluff with my finger.
The brown fuzz shivered under my touch.
-Wooong.
"Wait!"
"Yes?"
It turned to light and slipped into my finger.
What? Did I unknowingly smear something spirit-attracting on myself?
"Sigh, contracting that easily? Didn't even hear the terms."
"Contract? That was it?"
Listening to Arwen, I focused inward—felt something alien near my heart.
Sensation I could summon it back if I wanted.
...But this is squatting! Didn't agree to terms yet?
"...No weird contract terms, right?"
"Seen ones like 'offer troll hearts daily'."
"......"
I pleaded with my eyes at the white rat on Arwen's shoulder.
The rat shrugged smugly and replied to Arwen.
-Squeak!
"...What, really? With that face?"
"......"
Why's my face suddenly in this?
No, don't keep it between yourselves—include me.
"...Good news: terms and growth conditions are super simple."
"Really?"
"But kinda weird..."
Arwen squinted.
Gave me a suspicious look and answered.
"Contract term... be 18, an adult."
"...Pardon?"
18 is adulthood by Empire law.
Sounded fine when I heard it, but...
"Newborn spirits instinctively want protection... craving maturity isn't odd. But from what I know, Young Master's age is..."
-Ting.
I quickly flicked a coin from my pocket.
Silver landed neatly in Arwen's hand.
"...Even so, this is..."
-Ting.
Another silver.
"...Two years, so one more..."
-Ting.
Silver number three.
"......"
Arwen closed her eyes, pocketed the coins, and nodded.
Contract sealed.
Situation sorted, I asked Arwen the question nagging me.
"If someone fainted from trauma as a kid, woke up an adult... how old would a spirit see them?"
"Mana's essence is the heart, so spirits go by physical age."
I'd thought my body was 16.
Woke in alley at 13.
2 years alley, 1 year orphanage.
Even if suddenly told 'You're 16 now,' it'd be fine...
But two more years added?
How much rice cake soup do I have to spit out?
"Hmm, face that cute but an adult, huh...?"
Arwen pondered.
Suddenly jumped up from her chair and came to my side.
"Hey, don't you need a beautiful mage...?"
"Kid chewer? Non-virgins are meh."
"Hey, what'd you say? ...Ah."
Already distressed, this irritation broke my concept—swear slipped out.
But she half-inadvertently bantered back casually.
'...Let's pretend we didn't hear that?'
'Deal.'
We silently agreed to erase the last 10 seconds.