Preparing Gifts for the Storm Ahead
The practical exam period was fast approaching. Surprisingly, though, it didn't pile more work on my plate. The content hadn't changed much from last year, and up until now, the other professors had handled the preparations among themselves. It was probably faster that way than having a newbie like me butt in. Not that I was complaining.
"Finally, some time to get back to my real job."
I was working as an academy professor for now, but my true calling was wand crafting. With some free time and nothing pressing, there was only one thing to do: make wands.
For starters, my shop had plenty of wands in stock. I'd spent nearly the last millennium holed up like a hermit, whittling away at them nonstop. Considering the sheer number I'd stockpiled, I doubted we'd run short anytime soon.
So what I planned to make now were gifts for the kids. Not quite masterpieces, but wands that could perform on their level. What set the wands the world called "masterpieces" apart from the rest? The answer was simple: materials.
You can't forge Excalibur from scrap iron picked up off the roadside, right? Masterpieces were no different. Common wood or run-of-the-mill gems wouldn't cut it. You needed the absolute finest ingredients.
What, you say artisans don't blame their tools? Well... fair point. At my level, even junk materials could yield a solid baseline wand. But masterpieces were my peak performance. To hit that peak again, I needed materials worthy of it.
"Plus, they guzzle a ton of mana."
Whittling the wand alone wouldn't even take a month. Someone of my skill could knock out two a day. The month-long timeline was for infusing my mana into every nook and cranny. The secret to crafting a masterpiece? Flood every part of the wand with as much of your mana as possible.
"And then there's carving the core."
This continent's tech level was about on par with Earth's Age of Discovery. Think astrolabes, compasses, sextants for navigation, gunpowder, and early firearms. Precision mineral processing? Not happening in a world like this. Maybe in a century or two, when tech catches up to modern standards and machines take over—but that's a distant dream.
To carve minerals without a single millimeter of error demanded top-tier magic control and laser focus. That was why even I couldn't mass-produce masterpieces. Materials were scarce, time was scarcer, and I couldn't exactly ditch my students for a month-long hermit session.
"So... I'll just do the best I can with what I've got."
I had no intention of sending kids into the chaotic world ahead empty-handed. As long as I had the ability, I'd craft them wands. First up: Gunter Nordenburk.
He was already on my mind. The north was taking heavy hits from rampaging monsters. Sure, he'd inherit the Zitan Wood Wand someday, but that was far in the future. As far as I knew, Duke Nordenburk was still spry enough for the front lines. I couldn't very well snatch his wand while he was alive, so one I made now should tide Gunter over until then, right?
"But I can't send Lily up there either."
Lily needed to stay in the capital. To keep her safe under my watch, so she could grow strong. Sorry to the frontline warriors fighting right now, but... the continent's real priority was stopping the Maou's revival.
"That's why I've gotta do something like this."
First, a wand suited to Gunter. Then, any promising northern students who caught my eye. And the Saintess—once I saw how the practical exam shook out and if she seemed like an ally, I'd make her one too. Not masterpiece-tier, but that might actually be better for kids. Hand too powerful a weapon to the immature, and it'd crush them under its weight.
"I can't dump everything on Lily."
I muttered under my breath as I stood. Draping my cloak over my shoulders, I locked the faculty office door and drew my wand. Aiming the barrel downward, I pulled the trigger. Blue teleportation light flooded the room.
Fwump! A flash of light, and the faculty office dissolved into the familiar street outside.
The quiet avenue of shops before Arcana Academy.
Taking a deep breath of the alley's nostalgic scent behind Olivia's Wand Shop, I placed my hand on the door. A blue magic circle materialized over the knob.
[Warning]
If not Olivia herself, 5th Circle lightning magic will automatically activate.
Authenticate yourself?
"Yeah."
The blue circle scanned my hand over the knob and disarmed. The lock clicked open.
Stepping inside revealed the pristine workshop. Crossing it, I opened the inner door to the passage leading to the shop. Calling out as I pushed open the shop door:
"Luna! Give me a hand!"
"...Master? Aren't you busy with academy duties?"
"Got some time on my hands."
Magic dolls had their perks—no need for lengthy explanations like with humans.
"What do you need help with?"
"Find me some materials."
I already had Gunter Nordenburk's wand materials in mind: zitan wood body, diamond core. He was the heir to the Zitan Wood Wand, after all. Best to make this one echo its properties as closely as possible.
The Saintess was trickier... I didn't know her personality well enough yet. What if I crafted something perfect, only for it to clash with her style? I'd briefly considered an olive wood body with sapphire core—like Lily's Olive Wand—but from what I'd seen, that didn't fit her vibe.
"I'll figure her out later... For now, check if we have any zitan wood left and some diamonds?"
"Understood, Master."
I followed Luna into the materials storeroom, one of the largest spaces in the building alongside the wand vault. It brimmed with rare woods and precious gems, laid out like a warehouse from my past life.
Luna navigated the shelves with practiced ease.
"Top-grade zitan wood from the Southern Great Forest, 3kg available. For diamond cores... only fragments under 1.5 carats."
"Eh?"
"My oversight. Some suppliers paused shipments when they heard you'd be at the academy long-term."
"No, no. I sprang this on everyone last-minute after heading to the academy. Totally understandable."
I waved off Luna's deep bow of apology and pondered. High-end diamonds on this continent mostly came from northern tundra mines or southern desert ones—both far from the Empire's heart.
Even teleport magic made it a haul. Wait months for shipments? Too slow. Substitute cores? My pride as a crafter wouldn't allow it. Selling a mismatched wand was professional malpractice.
"No jewelers around here anyway."
The local shops catered to academy students: school supplies, magic reagents. Luxury goods were rare. And processed gems sold as baubles lost their original properties when reworked.
As I mulled it over, an idea struck.
"...Come to think of it, an Eastern Union caravan rolled in recently, right?"
The academy was thousands of kilometers from anywhere else—a foreign land for students from other nations. Homesickness was natural during multi-year stays, so countries sent merchant caravans periodically. And those often mixed in luxuries.
No harm checking before scouting elsewhere.
"Luna, just prep the zitan wood for now?"
"Just the wood?"
"Yeah. I'll scrounge the rest somehow. Cut it into workable pieces."
Length... I paused, then continued.
"Around 9 inches. That sound good?"
"...Master, could you please use the scientific, rational metric system? Like 228.6mm?"
"Huh?"
An unexpected jab from left field. One downside to outliving eras: unit conversions between inches and millimeters.
Back in my time, the Empire used inches—body-based measures from pre-metric days. No precise meter definitions in a low-tech age. The imperial system had its own "science," thank you very much...!
"Doesn't 'scientific' ring hollow when you've scrapped wands from mixing up inches and meters a few times?"
"Ahaha..."
No defense there. Habits were vicious. After centuries, switching felt impossible. Still, I tried justifying:
"It's not just me, okay?"
Earth had countries that lost a Mars probe to inch-millimeter mix-ups—and still clung to inches. Totally normal.
"Just... prep the wood...!"
Chatting more felt risky, so I bolted from the storeroom. Blue teleport light enveloped me.
Destination: the Eastern Union merchants' gathering spot.