Even If I Cry Out (2)
“I don’t know how to use magic.”
Someone affiliated with the Magic Tower who couldn’t cast a single spell? Or was he purely theoretical?
More to the point—had Meister even had a setting like this?
I pushed the bewilderment aside and rummaged carefully through my memories. The setting… might have existed, or it might not. Either way, I clearly remembered him as the type who never used magic and instead bashed everything with science and technology. The image of him yanking out artillery gear the instant he hit a skill button and spraying laser beams was still vivid.
So maybe the inability to use magic had been there from the start.
But then how did he discern essence? Through scientific methods? So it really was science??
“You’re not trapped in some narrow-minded, foolish notion that I can’t analyze something just because I can’t cast magic, are you? If you are, I find that extremely unpleasant.”
In the meantime Meister had shouted right back, quick on the draw. He must have expected me to say something.
His words were bold, as if this wasn’t the first or second time he’d faced the accusation, yet his expression was a little stiff.
“For the record, I don’t care if you doubt me. But I will not tolerate anyone questioning the achievements I’ve made.”
I had been curious about his methods, sure, but I hadn’t intended to cast doubt…
In the first place, the medals, certificates, and expensive-looking machines lined up along one wall of the workshop left no room for distrust. The shop’s prime location, the people who had recognized Meister on the way here—same story.
A con this polished would already be art. As a mere civilian, I was obliged to simply accept the masterpiece.
So I folded my arms and stared at Meister.
Then I chose my words carefully so as not to invite further misunderstanding. Looking back, I had opened my mouth in a way that could easily have been misread.
“I never doubted you. I was merely considering how you would identify it without magic, and how long it would take.”
Honestly, I was far more familiar with science than with magic. I ran through every investigative technique I’d ever seen in crime dramas.
And that only made it more exciting. Magic was just light-ping-ping and a result popped out—hardly any fun to watch.
But scientific investigation… that might actually be interesting. I was genuinely curious about the scientific knowledge of this world, if nothing else.
In the game it had suddenly jumped to full-on sci-fi levels, but there was no way it would go that far here. Looking at the equipment alone, it certainly didn’t seem so.
“…Is that so?”
While I was busy eyeing the side dishes, Meister’s expression turned subtle. I couldn’t tell whether he liked my answer or not.
At least it didn’t look like the worst case, so I relaxed.
“Good to know you’re not an idiot. And analysis will take anywhere from half a day to a full day. Maybe… it could stretch into several days. Even for someone like me, who prides himself on having seen a great deal thanks to my grandfather, this is a first.”
I see. Under normal circumstances that might have been inconvenient.
“Doesn’t matter.”
I was planning to stay in Bemyurhen for roughly another month anyway. The letter was supposed to arrive by then.
“Leave the glove.”
“Fine.”
So waiting a little wasn’t a problem at all. I decided to buy a new pair of gloves while I was at it, pushed myself off the wall, and collected the two-handed sword I had propped up earlier as well.
“Calling it a substitute feels off, but… as payment for letting me analyze your equipment, I’ll give you free access to the workshop. You can come in anytime, even when it’s not to check on the glove. Ah, except when I’m not here, of course.”
Well, that much was obvious. I wasn’t sure yet whether this was actually a good thing.
“I’ll also take simple commissions from you. Count yourself lucky. There aren’t many people who can commission me directly, especially during a busy stretch like this.”
Now that, on the other hand, definitely seemed good. Even if I had nothing to request right now, having the connection couldn’t hurt.
“Make sure nothing gets destroyed.”
“Of course.”
Anyway, if there was no further reason to stay, I needed to step out for a bit. I had rushed here so fast I still hadn’t checked the inn room I’d booked.
Clank.
Leaving Meister behind—he didn’t even glance up as his customer left—I stepped out of the workshop. The thick iron door slammed shut with a heavy thud.
“This one?”
The Archmage stroked her chin as she examined one of the items she had commissioned. Standing beside her, Surging Cheongsanho spoke.
“Yes. But this is only a prototype, not the finished product. The one in charge of crafting insisted he couldn’t accept a design that diverged so much, so he postponed production until the actual wearer arrives.”
“…So that’s how Grandmaster Craftsmen are—finicky.”
“Still, the formulas you sent have all been refined and even the trial-and-error is finished, so once we take the measurements it’ll be done in no time.”
“Hmm. Understood. So I should go to his personal workshop to get measured?”
“That would be best. He doesn’t exactly enjoy coming to the Magic Tower unless it’s his own business. Ah, and discard any idea of getting measured on the first visit. Think of the first trip as merely making an appointment.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”
The refined completeness of the formulas was obvious just from the magic already on the prototype. Looking at the more streamlined, more effective formulas compared to when she herself had first finished them, she thought once again that she had been right to entrust the work to him.
He was the most expensive, and he was worth every coin—just like Cheongsanho.
“And the others?”
“Here they are.”
With satisfaction the Archmage checked the rest of the commissions as well. One by one the silk wrappings came undone under her hands.
“For reference, the magic hasn’t been applied yet.”
“Why not?”
It had already been a month—still not done? She asked with that feeling, and in return received Cheongsanho’s cold stare. Roughly translated: “Are you really asking because you don’t know?”
“No, I simply expected you would refine them quickly.”
“I appreciate you thinking so highly of my ability, but stop overestimating me. Even for me, formula refinement isn’t easy.”
Besides, the research goals had ballooned far beyond the original scope by now. Cheongsanho snapped that she had no idea how many Great Sages were attached to this particular refinement.
It was a precise jab at the conscience of an Archmage who, because of travel, was no longer in a position to research herself and simply tossed ideas to other mages.
“I heard something of it last time, but… learning it has grown this large makes me feel a little guilty.”
“Good that you understand.”
“Mm. But it will be finished, yes?”
“Seven Great Sages and forty Sages are on it. Two weeks at the longest.”
“That’s a relief.”
The Archmage accepted the answer and finished unwrapping the silk. An astonishingly beautiful longsword was revealed.
“That’s the reason you summoned Berserk?”
“Correct.”
At the same moment, Berserk—who had been yawning in the back—stepped forward.
The Archmage handed her the longsword. If nothing else, Berserk’s eye for weapons surpassed her own, and that was why she had done it.
“Well? Is it acceptable?”
“Mm.”
Instead of answering at once, Berserk took the weapon in her left hand, then her right, and swung it. A faint whistle of parted air accompanied the snow-white blade as it sliced the empty space.
“Not bad. Closer to a ready-made piece than a custom order, though.”
“…Doesn’t ‘closer to ready-made’ mean it’s not good?”
Berserk shook her head vigorously at the question.
“Nothing is harder than remaining faithful to the basics. In that sense this sword is the most archetypal, the most universal. It isn’t optimized for any single person, but anyone who picks it up will be able to use it comfortably.”
It was a fairly high evaluation. Including the unspoken “as long as their build is similar to the Demon Knight’s,” of course.
“I see.”
Since it was a gift for the Demon Knight, there was no need to consider anyone else using it. The Archmage took the white sword back.
Perhaps because it had been forged from materials that purify the impure, even without a single assisting spell the blade still gave off a subtle power. A noble power.
“For reference, the scabbard is still being made.”
“Yes, so it is.”
“…Is there a problem?”
“Well… about this sword.”
If there was one minor issue, it was the sword’s appearance.
“Doesn’t it seem… a little too heavily decorated?”
She pointed out the detail that had been bothering her from the start. Even the normally unflappable Cheongsanho found no easy reply.
“…That’s the taste of the one who carved it. Still, it shouldn’t interfere with actual combat.”
“Of course it shouldn’t.”
Even setting function aside and looking only at appearance, the sword could easily be ranked as a work of art.
Which was exactly why the Archmage was torn. Would the Demon Knight even use a blade this lavish and beautiful? Should she coat it black or strip the decorations right now?
“Anyway, I’d like the additional payment for the sword as soon as possible. Preferably the formula refinement and accessory fees as well.”
“The formula fees are one thing, but you’re demanding payment for accessories that are still in production?”
At Surging Cheongsanho’s prodding the Archmage set the sword down. Cheongsanho, who had been holding a pipe in his mouth, furrowed his brow.
“Are you suspecting me of planning to stiff you on the money?”
“Of course not. I’m simply surprised you’re asking for payment up front. It’s not as though you’re suddenly hard up for cash.”
“……”
“…What’s wrong?”
“…Unfortunately, your prediction is correct.”
“……?”
“Hah.”
The Archmage was startled by Cheongsanho’s admission. Given the nature of the mages belonging to the Bemyurhen Magic Tower branch, poverty was virtually impossible.
After all, more than half of all items in the world were produced here. Enormous sums flowed in every time something was sold—that much was natural.
Yet the head of that branch was short on money? It made no sense. Not unless something had happened.
“To be precise, I have no liquid cash I can mobilize right this moment.”
“Ah, so that’s what you meant. How on earth?”
“Because Gridana suddenly dumped a huge stockpile of precious materials that had been stashed inside the merchant guild.”
“…Aha.”
If it was that sort of thing, she could more or less understand. Even so, she still couldn’t grasp how that cash-rich man had suddenly found himself in a tight spot.
“For reference, the materials needed for your commissions are among them.”
“Then of course I’ll pay. But… if you’re in that much of a hurry, couldn’t you just settle the account with something you made? Ah, I don’t mean I don’t want to pay—pure curiosity.”
“No misunderstanding. And paying in goods… I wanted to do that myself, but they said they would only accept cash or jewels. So what can I do?”
“…Why? Taking heavy cash all the way west to sell your goods would be far more profitable.”
“No idea.”
But if that was the situation, what could one do?
She gave the magic that would be engraved on the sword one last check and paid the fee. Somehow the earlier demand that she bring cash now made sense. That realization was a free bonus.
“Ah, Archmage!”
“You’re here, Mage-nim.”
At any rate, everything she needed to see here for the moment was finished. She went downstairs together with Cheongsanho—who was heading for the workshop—sword in hand. Those who had been thoroughly browsing the magic items brightened at once.
“…Obviously the Hero. The one next to him looks pretty good too.”
“Haha. Right?”
“Ah, greetings.”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Yes, good to meet you. I am the master of this place, Surging Cheongsanho.”
Surging Cheongsanho was a master of essence magic. His eyes could pierce even a person’s essence at times.
So the Archmage felt a measure of relief at Cheongsanho’s words. Whatever else, his evaluations were rarely wrong.
“But what you’re holding…”
“Is that… the item you said you’d commissioned this time?”
“It’s truly beautiful.”
“It looks… incredibly expensive.”
The Inquisitor reacted with pure, unfiltered emotion to the white that symbolized divinity, purity, and beginnings.
Deathbringer, on the other hand, wore a somewhat complicated expression at the borderline-extravagant design.
“It looks exactly like a holy sword… This won’t purify even you, will it, sir?”
“As if I would prepare something like that as a gift… I’ve taken precautions, so don’t worry.”
She had already planned to coat the hilt with a special material precisely because there was a chance the Demon Knight would take damage. The custom scabbard would receive the same treatment.
Once the scabbard was finished and the sword sheathed, it would no longer harm the Demon Knight.
“But Archmage, I wanted to ask about something related—once the Demon Knight can grip this, will there still be a problem putting power into it? I mean, I remember you saying before that loading mana into something would make him explode…”
“I’ve prepared a method for that as well, so set your mind at ease.”
The problem the Inquisitor raised now was the same.
Among the commissions the Archmage had entrusted to Cheongsanho, the formula-refinement side had been precisely for this purpose.
“It will take a little more time before completion… but that too will be soon.”
She thought of the Demon Knight, for whom even being inside a temple might cause harm, as Deathbringer had once suggested.
The magic that had begun there—filtering holy power—had now developed into filtering impurity itself.
It was an improvement that referenced the information White Wind had uncovered while investigating the mana-eating snake, as well as the Sea Dragon’s orb the Demon Knight had once shown.
“Once it’s finished, something astonishing will happen.”
The original goal of this research had been to let the Demon Knight pour mana into materials like these, but that was no longer the case.
When the research was complete, demons and those contracted to them would face considerable hardship. A magic that filtered or purified impurity by a method different from holy power would be born.
The original goal had become little more than a side effect.
“Is that… even possible?”
“It is possible, which is exactly why things have come this far. We simply never thought of the possibility before.”
In the past no one had conceived of an idea like this. But after so many events and the appearance of new things, the present was different.
She pictured the finished product and smiled faintly.
“I see! Then that’s a relief.”
“Hearing it was only just developed makes me feel both relieved and a little regretful.”
“…Sorry it took so long to develop.”
“No, I wasn’t blaming you, Mage-nim.”
The Archmage shrugged at the one hurriedly smoothing things over. She herself had thought “To only think of this now…” dozens of times during the development period, so his mild rebuke was fair.
“But will the Demon Knight even accept this? Berserk doesn’t think he will.”
“…Please be quiet, Warrior-nim.”
“…W-well, with something this fine, s-surely he’ll accept it, right?”
…Berserk’s words were equally fair. The Demon Knight who still hadn’t accepted even the longsword they had bought earlier—would he really take this one?
Regardless of the care put into preparing the gift, the Archmage herself remained skeptical. Sadly so.
“I’ve seen everything I needed. I’ll be going now.”
“Yes. See you next time.”
In the meantime Cheongsanho left. He would likely begin the remaining procedures for the sword the moment he reached the workshop.
“…Um, Mage-nim. Do you think the Knight-nim is resting right now?”
“Who knows… I suppose so?”
While watching Cheongsanho’s retreating back, the Archmage offered a vague guess in answer to the question. It couldn’t be helped. Ever since they had started acting separately, tracking the Demon Knight’s movements had become extremely difficult.
They couldn’t even tell whether he was resting or working.
“Don’t worry too much. His complexion wasn’t bad, was it?”
The only clues available to them were the brief moments they met for official business and when they moved between cities.
Fortunately, the Demon Knight they had seen then had not looked… terribly bad.
Yes. If the calm that comes after completely abandoning a human life can still be called calm, then he was clearly on the better side of things. Like someone trapped in an endless winter, crushed under heavy snow, slowly being asphyxiated—yet outwardly appearing still.
“Then, in the end, this is…”
“Still, don’t give up.”
But was it right to simply leave him like that?
“I’m the last person who should be saying this, given how I’ve done nothing…”
No, that was probably not the case.
“I… don’t believe what you and the Inquisitor are doing is wrong.”
Yet could she step forward herself? That, too, was no.
She had reached an age where she feared failure.
“…Really?”
The Archmage recalled the distant past and recent events alike. Failure, failure, failure—nothing but failure. She no longer even had the courage to step forward. In this particular field, if nothing else, she seemed catastrophically talentless.
“Yes.”
In that case, remaining in the rear might be better.
Silently supporting from behind might truly be the wiser judgment. Just like the past month.
“Please don’t worry, Archmage! I will not give up!”
“…Yes. Good. Inquisitor.”
And so the Archmage quietly set aside any thought of stepping forward herself and decided to cheer for the Inquisitor and Deathbringer.
Whether this was the correct judgment… well. She had a feeling the answer would become clear in the not-too-distant future. All that remained was to wait for the result.
There was nothing to do.
I checked the inn room I had booked, confirmed Frederick’s well-being once more, then went to the Adventurers’ Guild and scoured every last quest listing before reaching my conclusion.
There really was nothing to do.
“They’re looking for transport personnel in Gridana—how about that…?”
A transport mission would mean going to another city. That was inconvenient.
I declined the clerk’s recommendation, then added a request by way of replacement. If a letter arrived under my name, please send someone to the inn where I was staying.
“If you pay a small fee, that shouldn’t be impossible.”
“I’ll pay.”
The Adventurers’ Guild seemed to treat even this as a commission and accepted readily. Now I no longer had to worry about forgetting the letter.
“Take care!!”
With that, there was nothing more for me at the guild. I stepped out of the building and, without quite realizing it, straightened my back. My left hand, now wearing the newly purchased leather gloves, rested on my hip and quietly helped with the stretch.
More importantly, what now? Without commissions, boredom was secondary—I couldn’t even fill my wallet. Should I raid the guild every morning?
Without the two chatterboxes, my ears felt especially empty; I scratched them. In many ways it was awkward. Times of leisure like this were the only chance to make money.
Clang-clang, clang-clang.
At that very moment a bell rang in the distance. It was light rather than heavy, the kind of sound that grated on the ears.
My gaze moved of its own accord.
“Get inside!”
“What’s going on?”
“Come in!”
“Just get in!”
At the same time the people moving through the streets began to act in perfect unison. Those already inside buildings threw their front doors wide open while closing the windows; those walking the streets either ducked into nearby buildings or sprinted off to one side.
“Hurry and come in!”
“I’ll impose for just a moment!”
Whether they knew one another or not, once that signal rang out they simply let people inside. But what exactly was the signal for?
“Hey.”
I approached the person who had finished closing the windows and was gesturing people in.
“You too, hurry… ah, an adventurer?”
“What is that signal?”
“Hm? Ah, an outsider.”
She scratched her head lightly and pointed toward the walls.
The bell sound was coming from there.
“It’s the signal that something has invaded and civilians should take shelter inside buildings. If you’re not going to fight, you’d better come in too.”
Clang-clang, clang-clang. Starting from one point, the bell sounds gradually spread until they rang from every wall surrounding the city.
Whoosh-whoosh. The signal fires did the same.
“…I’ll pass.”
If something really had invaded, I could hardly stand around doing nothing.
I set the origin of the bell sound as my destination and put power into my legs.
“If it’s because you feel awkward, there’s no need to wor—”
Boom!
“…ry. A ghost?”
Ah, I’d put too much force into it and cracked the ground a little. Unlike dirt, stone floors were hard to repair.
I felt a twinge of guilt about that even as I poured still more power into the legs that had already built momentum. Most people had already taken shelter inside buildings, so there was no one left to notice.
Soon the gate we had passed when entering the city with the party came into view.
“Fall back! Farther, farther!”
“Anyone in the buildings, get to the upper floors right now! Don’t let that black water touch you!”
“Hyaaak, hyaaaaak!”
So that was what had happened—a curse.
I found the scene I had witnessed several times before and scowled hard. Then I began flinging people who hadn’t managed to escape—or looked like they wouldn’t—behind me.
“You, if that touches—!”
“Stand on something solid.”
My boots did not allow that curse through. Without hesitation I stepped onto the cursed water and moved.
Those already swept up by the curse were beyond help, but the ones who had used quick reflexes to cling to baggage and avoid it—I could save them.
“Th-thank—.”
“No need.”
“Waaaaah!”
There were simply too many people to pick up and carry one by one. Plenty of them looked precarious as well.
So I simply smashed a nearby cart. The instant my mana-wrapped leg scraped along the side of the cart, the inverted-U roof tore free and went flying.
Craaash.
Of course some of the cargo inside was damaged as a result. But what did I care? What mattered right now was having something that could hold people.
Thud!
“Ugh.”
The moment a safe zone was ready, I threw every remaining person toward it.
The cart wasn’t especially spacious, so people occasionally collided with one another—but that was all. No one bounced out, and the cart itself never lost its balance.
That was enough. Bumps and bruises were a fair price for keeping their lives.
“E-eek!”
Just then a child who had been standing precariously on the bridge railing lost balance and toppled forward.
“Got you.”
Whew, that was close.
I barely managed to snatch the child and held them in one arm. The distance was a bit far to throw them into the cart.
“Over here, Knight-nim!”
And then the mages finally arrived.
I looked down at the child at the cry of a mage who had produced a cloud of soft, fluffy cotton.
“Close your eyes and count to ten inside your head. Can you count?”
The child, eyes brimming with tears, stared at me, then nodded.
“Good. Exactly ten seconds. No matter what you feel during that time, don’t open your eyes. And count silently.”
“Yes…”
The child squeezed their eyes shut and began counting. At the same moment I tossed them toward the cotton.
Puff.
“Nice catch!”
“……?”
Good—luckily the child didn’t cry. Relieved, I moved my now-free hands again.
“Hyaak!”
“Quiet.”
“Hup.”
The remaining people were all rescued. Because the mages kept the cotton out, there was no longer any need to throw anyone into the cart.
Including those beyond the walls, everyone who had been barely hanging on inside the cursed zone was rescued in short order.