Though I Cry Out (6)
Thud!
The Archmage shrugged as he watched the figure turn away with resolute finality.
Yes. She had been far too optimistic to think it would work on the Demon Knight.
"I thought this much would make for a decent attempt…"
It wasn't as if he had meant to interfere in the man's private affairs. He hadn't been trying to change the Demon Knight's heart either.
He had only—only—wanted to ease the man's circumstances a little… Had it really been a mistake for her to step in? Would there have been any chance at all only through the Inquisitor or Deathbringer?
"We're busted."
"W-we got caught, huh…"
What was certain was that the item commissioned for the Demon Knight's sake no longer held any meaning. Now that he had grasped the truth of it, he would keep refusing from this day forward.
She clicked her tongue in regret.
"So, what do we do now?"
At that, the one who had been wedged in the middle in silence finally spoke.
"For reference, refunds take a long time."
"…Is that so?"
"Yes. Because I don't have money on hand."
It wasn't as if he were particularly hard up for cash… More to the point, was he truly Cheongsanho's adopted son? Not his blood child?
The Archmage blinked at the forget-me-not fragility of the young man's face that flipped so completely into a sharp tongue. Even if the features themselves bore no resemblance, the way he played against his looks was identical to Cheongsanho.
People said you took after whoever raised you, but the match rate was excessive.
"…Whether it takes long or not, a refund is the only answer, isn't it? The Lord won't accept it. And if the Lord doesn't cooperate in the first place, production would be impossible."
Or was it simply because he was a mage? Or was there some pact that people with two-toned hair all had broken personalities?
While the Archmage briefly entertained the doubt, Deathbringer put in a word. Meister's brows lifted a fraction.
"Who said it's impossible without cooperation?"
"…What."
"Of course it would be impossible for someone like you. But not for me."
"……?"
"Next time, try thinking before you move your tongue. Your intelligence is becoming pitiful."
In that instant, the Archmage, the Inquisitor, and Deathbringer became of one heart and mind.
…Was this a Demon Knight who talked a little long?
"Are you done ta—"
"Now, now, hold on."
Familiarity, however, was not the same as tolerance. Just as Deathbringer—who only ever killed his own personality around the Demon Knight—was about to take the bait for the first time in ages, the Archmage stepped in as well.
There was nothing to gain from wrecking relations with none other than a Grandmaster Craftsman.
"More importantly—can it be made even without the Demon Knight's cooperation?"
"Of course. You've seen it once, haven't you?"
Taking measurements would be more accurate, of course, but it wasn't as if he couldn't make it by eye, Meister said with a touch of irritation.
His towering pride was the one thing he shared with the Demon Knight.
"Then please proceed with the commission."
Thanks to that, she immediately grasped how to handle him.
Instead of asking whether it was truly possible, she delivered the requirements in concise order. Meister nodded that he understood.
"For reference, if any additions to the commission come up, send someone within the next day or two. If not, come to the workshop in five days. I'll have it finished by then."
"Understood."
"Ah—I'll be here all day today, so send them here instead of the workshop. From tomorrow I'll be at the workshop the whole time, so it won't matter. Anything else?"
"Hmm… Nothing regarding the commission, but I do have a question."
With this sort of person, it was better not to drag things out and simply put the point forward. The Archmage quickly chose his words, then asked.
"How did you come to know the Demon Knight?"
"I don't disclose information about clients, so don't ask me."
Rejected at once.
"Then leave. I'll be going too."
…Cheongsanho had truly passed on his character with perfect fidelity.
Recalling the Cheongsanho of his youth, the Archmage simply let the departing figure go.
"What the hell is with that attitude?!"
And the moment Meister stepped into the laboratory, he released Deathbringer. The Inquisitor, for her part, said nothing, yet her face was faintly displeased.
"Grandmaster Craftsman or not, that attitude is just…!"
"Why are you so angry, young hunter?"
"I know he became a Grandmaster Craftsman at a young age, but that's too much! Did he mix manners into his rice and eat them?!"
"…Aren't all craftsmen like that?"
"Not at all. The one Grandmaster Craftsman at the temple wasn't like that!"
The Inquisitor spoke while recalling the Grandmaster Craftsman who had crafted her own armor. Berserk scratched her head.
"Then just leave it to someone else. Craftsmen may be rare, but if you look around there'll be one or two more. Ah—preferably find an older one. Age isn't everything, but you can't ignore the skill that years bring."
"Well, it's not wrong that experience is important, and it's true there's one more Grandmaster Craftsman in Bemyurhen…"
He wondered whether there was any real need, and besides, Berserk's nuance seemed to be misunderstanding something.
"You—do you perhaps know what Craftsman, Master Craftsman, and Grandmaster Craftsman actually are?"
"…Is there a difference between those?"
At the Archmage's question, Berserk tilted her head. Looking at it now, it wasn't a misunderstanding—she simply didn't know the concepts at all.
"Master Craftsman is a title you can only obtain after being recognized by at least one authoritative organization—the Adventurers' Guild, the Temple, the Magic Tower, a Knight Academy, and the like. A sort of certified craftsman."
"Is that so? Then Grandmaster Craftsman?"
"Similar to Master Craftsman. Except you need recognition from three places instead of one."
One might think that with skill already recognized by one place, winning two more would not be difficult… but it was never so.
Because each organization demanded different skills.
"And that one just now… became a Master Craftsman at fifteen and a Grandmaster Craftsman at twenty. A youth who smashed the saying that talent cannot replace experience from the front."
For such reasons, Grandmaster Craftsmen were fewer across the entire continent than Great Sages, and their value was correspondingly high. High enough that no one said a word even with that kind of personality.
"On top of that, he is also a mage. At this point, there is almost no one who can replace him."
"Oh… then it's fine if he eats manners with his rice."
"I don't particularly want to endorse elitist thinking, but everyone does see it that way."
In the latter case there were many who looked down on him as a mage without mana… but there was no need to mention that. The Archmage swallowed the latter half back down his throat.
"E-even so, that's too much!"
"Hear, hear!"
"…Hmm. I hesitate to say this, but even if his personality is lacking, he is a youth with quite a good nature. Don't simply hate him too much."
"A guy like that?"
"If you're going to judge by conduct alone, remember that the Demon Knight is the worst as well."
"No, that is…"
Wielding a fact they had no choice but to accept, the Archmage added further explanation—because the Inquisitor had asked, "How do you know his nature is good?"
"That… I know because of what he is researching now. If his personality and nature were the same, he would never be researching for ordinary people who cannot use magic."
"…Research for ordinary people?"
"Yes."
The personality of the Great Sage's grandson and Grandmaster Craftsman was little known, but the research he conducted was widely known.
"It is the creation of a provisional 'battery' that absorbs and stores mana from the air, so that even people without mana can use magic so long as they possess the battery. That is the content of his research."
The so-called popularization of magic. The future dreamed by a mage without mana.
Friends used to say workplaces were like family, so affection never really built up. Why couldn't this party become that kind of workplace?
Was it because the first button had been fastened wrong? Because I had carelessly given affection without knowing it would turn out like this? But that was my position.
You all didn't need to be affectionate too.
"Damn it!"
I felt comforted by their steady approach, warmth from their subtle goodwill.
But my situation was far too burdensome to return any of it. Too hard.
…I did not have the confidence to endure if the worst should ever come to pass.
"I wondered why it wasn't working—you engraved it wrong!"
So I was trying to put distance between us, and yet the loneliness that arose in the gap got stabbed so perfectly again.
Nothing ever went the way I wanted.
"Shit."
I blankly watched Meister, who had been examining a brick-shaped object, slam the workbench and then clutch his head.
Seemed he had made a mistake something like inking on the sketch layer. The random thought I muttered lightened my mood a little.
"Cigarette… cigarette…"
"I told you to go outside and smoke!"
"Tsk."
And into that view walked Meister, middle finger raised as he fumbled a cigarette into his mouth, and Sage Karl, grabbing the back of his own neck.
…Cigarette.
Cigarette?
I blankly followed Meister out. The past when I had once turned a room into a raccoon den reacted on pure instinct.
"What, why are you following."
But since I had acted without logic, what came after became awkward. How was I supposed to answer?
"You want one too?"
Even if it was a pathetic excuse, should I say I was going to the bathroom?
While I fretted over whether to offer that kind of pretext—one I would definitely regret later—Meister, instead of waiting for an answer, made a new proposal. A rather tempting proposal.
Wasn't the time spent quitting smoking a waste? Too shabby. Character break. What if I got caught again? For something like that… I wasn't exactly in a leisurely situation either.
Compared to that, cigarettes as a preference item reliably eased stress.
Sss.
So rather than invent an excuse, I wordlessly accepted the cigarette. It was leaf tobacco.
"There—light."
Should I count myself lucky it wasn't a pipe or a water pipe at least?
I curiously examined the leaf tobacco I was seeing for the first time in my life. Meanwhile Meister, in a calm yet oddly thuggish tone, quietly caught a mage who was passing by.
I had wondered how one lit a fire in a world without lighters or matches—apparently they used walking human lighters to smoke.
Whoosh.
Under the mage's docile touch, the cigarette caught flame.
"This one too."
"Yep."
It was a little concerning that this body had no smoking history… but this was a world where you couldn't drink alcohol, there was no coffee to speak of, and no other hobbies useful for stress relief. Cigarettes should be fine.
While Meister lit his own share anew, I skillfully held the smoke in my mouth.
It was stronger than modern cigarettes, but still not bad.
Was it because I was an experienced newcomer? There was no need to suffer with my heart hammering the way it had when I smoked my first cigarette long ago.
"Hoo."
"Doesn't look like you've only smoked once or twice."
Still, a cough felt imminent, so I held it in and endured. That seemed quite unexpected.
Meister raised his eyebrows. It was a little funny.
If he knew that during the period I had smoked intensively in the past—two years, was it?—I had spent over seven million won on cigarettes alone, that reaction would never have appeared.
But I couldn't say that. I only exhaled the smoke that felt awkward and yet familiar and yet strange. Hoo.
Meister was similar.
We squatted or leaned against the wall and simply let gray smoke drift free. Through the open air of the terrace the smoke rose softly toward the sky.
"From tomorrow you don't need to come to the Magic Tower. Come to the workshop. Looking at how Sage Karl is acting, I don't think he can find anything out by investigating with magic."
"…Alright."
Then, briefly, Meister muttered words that would have made Sage Karl weep if he had heard them. Truly cold.
"If Grandfather steps in he might find something out, but…"
I stared at Meister while drawing the cigarette smoke deep. He was raking through his own hair, looking extremely troubled.
It did not seem to be simply because of my equipment problem.
"Tsk. No point recalling someone whose schedule won't work."
But it was not yet time to ask. Concept-wise it could not be, and should not be.
So I focused on the cigarette. The rising smoke opened my chest in place of the sigh I could not openly release.
It was a contradiction. That the act of stuffing smoke into my throat would conversely open my airways.
"Come back when you're done smoking. I'm going first."
But when the butt was about three-fifths burned, around then, Meister rose.
Thud.
At the same time something fell from between his robes. The object that had enraged Meister earlier.
"Ha. When am I ever going to succeed…"
Perhaps because carpets covered not only the corridor but the terrace as well. The impact sound was dull, so Meister failed to notice in time.
"Hey."
"……?"
I picked up the fallen object in Meister's stead. Uung. A faint vibration registered against my palm. Similar to an electronic note set to vibrate for notifications.
"Why call… ah."
And if you looked closely, a faint light was even glowing.
I pondered what on earth this thing was as I held it out to Meister.
"Than… ks?"
Meister's eyes went wide just as he was about to take it.
"What is this. Why…"
Huh. Why. Was there a problem?
The moment I was about to roll my eyes secretly, the faint vibration in my hand cut off. The light going out was a bonus.
"You…"
Meister's eyes turned frightening.
"What did you just do?"
Wait—I think misunderstanding stacks just piled up.
I only picked it up and did nothing!