The Vanilla Brand
"Oh."
The shop owner crossed his arms and smiled.
"You're not a freshman, are you? A Skeleton Archer already?"
"That's right. I'm going to give it a try."
Skeletons came in a variety of positions.
Skeleton Archers.
Skeleton Mages.
Skeleton Riders, and so on.
A 'Skeleton Archer,' simply put, was a skeleton that wielded a bow as its primary weapon.
At first, Simon had handed a bow to an Island Ratman skeleton and told it to shoot. The result had been a total disaster—it couldn't even nock an arrow properly, let alone draw the string.
So he'd dug through his textbook looking for a solution, and learned that there was a specific species of skeleton best suited to the Skeleton Archer role.
"If a beginner wants to get into Skeleton Archers, Saphirros is the safest bet. Right this way, please."
Simon and the shop owner headed deeper into the spacious central hall from the front of the store.
Simon's eyes darted around wildly. The shelves were piled high with items whose purpose he couldn't even begin to guess. He found himself thinking that if he ever had spare time, coming back here just to browse would be a lot of fun in its own right.
"Saphirros bones are over here."
The shop owner knelt on one knee and pulled a box out from the lower shelf.
He blew the dust off with a phoo!, revealing a logo gleaming in silver against the black surface. It looked extraordinarily premium.
"Shall I show you the inside as well?"
"Yes!!"
Simon practically shouted his answer. The owner chuckled with the fond look of someone watching an adorable junior, and opened the box.
"Wow...!"
Inside, an antique-looking red cloth lined the box. In the center sat a Saphirros skull with two horns jutting sharply from it, and every compartment around it held bones sorted by type—spine, arm, leg.
"When it comes to skeletons, Vanilla Brand has the best quality around."
The owner pulled out an arm bone and flicked it with his finger.
"Hear that tung? That means it's been properly cold-treated. The joints in the arms are critical for Skeleton Archers, you see. Ah! Of course, the magic circle drawn inside the skull is also—like this."
The owner carefully lifted the skull and showed him the inside. There sat a rather intricate Jet-Black magic circle.
"These circles are etched in, stroke by careful stroke, by professional necromancers. The defect rate is dramatically lower, and even if you do get a dud, the brand handles after-service. Bring it to any shop and they'll swap it for a new one."
From Simon's perspective, it was a pitch so tempting it was almost intoxicating—and yet, in contrast, the smile at the corner of his mouth was beginning to waver.
"Th-that must be incredibly expensive, huh?"
"Thirty gold a box. But this is the Vanilla Brand everyone knows, so you get what you pay for."
Thirty gold!
Simon sighed inwardly. He'd known Summoning was expensive, but this was on another level.
Not that it mattered to Simon, a Legion Commander, but for a skeleton with such a short usable lifespan, thirty gold apiece was chillingly steep.
"Do you have anything a bit... cheaper?"
"Of course! Let me show you."
The owner rose to his feet and swept his gaze over the boxes, then carefully slid a few of them out one by one and set them in front of Simon.
"From the right—twenty-seven gold, twenty-four gold, and twenty-two gold."
Even to Simon, who still didn't know much about undead, he could see the quality of the bones growing cruder as his eyes moved from left to right.
"And there's also a twenty-gold set made by an unnamed necromancer."
When he opened the roughly twine-tied box, a musty smell wafted out, and inside the bones lay jumbled together in utter chaos. Rummaging through them, the owner pulled out a skull and examined the magic circle.
"The circle is functioning properly, at least. But whether you get a lemon or not is a roll of the dice, I'm afraid."
I'm definitely skipping that one. Simon thought, looking back at the other boxes.
[What is there to deliberate, boy!]
Wha—you scared me.
[Obviously you pick the most expensive Vanilla Brand! It's not as though your skeletons break beyond use like every other necromancer's! Every single one of them becomes part of the Legion's strength!]
Well, that's true, but...
Simon gazed at the boxes, deliberating carefully. Pier wasn't wrong.
If he was buying anyway, shouldn't he go for the good stuff?
"...I'll take three sets of the Vanilla."
"Ooh, big spender! Coming right up."
Whistling, the owner pulled out two more boxes marked with Vanilla in gleaming silver lettering.
Simon watched him blankly for a moment before curiosity got the better of him.
"By the way, why is the undead product brand called Vanilla?"
The owner picked up a single bone and sniffed it.
"Because the bones smell like vanilla."
"......"
"Just kidding. Vanilla is the founder's family name. Now, let's head to the counter."
"Ah! Wait just a moment, sir."
Simon swallowed hard.
"There's one more thing I'd like to buy..."
When he heard what it was, the owner broke into a slow, knowing smile.
"Ooh, now that one is seriously, seriously expensive... shall I show you the way?"
[This lunatic! Hey, snap out of it! You're planning to dump every coin you earned on your mission into that?!]
Sweat trickling down his back, Simon nodded with a bright smile on his face.
"Yes, please do."
"Come see us again soon~!"
The shop owner bowed, and Simon left the necromancy shop with a relieved smile. As a free bonus, he'd even walked away with three bows for his Skeleton Archers.
[Tsk tsk. Was it really that good?]
Pier grumbled.
[So you went and splurged on the expensive one after all.]
"Ahaha... sorry for spending your money without asking, Pier. But—"
His heart was pounding. He'd stored everything he'd bought in his subspace, but he kept wanting to open it up again and touch the things with his own hands.
"I think these are absolutely essential for the Duel Evaluation coming up."
[Hmph. If that's the Legion Commander's judgment, I have nothing more to say. You bought them, so use them without regret!]
"Yes, sir!"
He had to get back to Kizen before it got any later. Pulling his hood down firmly over his eyes, he set off.
He'd lingered too long at the necromancy shop—the night had deepened, and the foot traffic along the streets had dwindled to nothing.
Simon was moving at a brisk pace when—
Ah...!
The moment he saw someone walking toward him from the opposite direction, Simon's face went white. He immediately turned on his heel and slipped into an alley between the buildings.
[Hm? What! What's going on!]
"Someone I know."
Simon peeked out cautiously.
Though the figure wore a robe, the face and white garb visible beneath it belonged to someone every Kizen student would recognize at a glance.
"Professor Bahil? Why is he in Rochest...?"
[Is that a problem? Probably came out for a drink after finishing work, I'd wager.]
"Hmm."
Fair enough—it wasn't any of Simon's business what an off-duty professor did in his private life.
Simon watched until Bahil disappeared down the opposite street, then slipped out of the alley and ran in the direction of Kizen.
"Haaah, finally here."
Thankfully, he'd made it back to the dormitory without incident. There had been one heart-stopping moment when he'd nearly been spotted by a Watchman scouting the area around Kizen, but he'd slipped past without trouble.
When he opened the door to his cozy home in Room 409, the scene was as familiar as ever.
Rick was rolling around on his bed reading a magazine, and Kajan, as always, had pulled his blanket up over his head and was snoring away.
"Oh, you're back! Simon."
Rick sat up.
"Tonight was a Watchman patrol night—everything go okay?"
Simon shrugged.
"Almost ran into one, but I got away clean."
"Heh heh! You've got some nerve, man. Mr. Diligent in class, but one slip and you're off sneaking out to Rochest. Honestly, aren't you going out more than me these days?"
Simon smoothed it over with a vague laugh as he took off his uniform and hung it in the closet. He changed into a light short-sleeved shirt and got ready to head out of the room.
"Where are you off to now?"
"To build a skeleton."
"Right now? At this hour...? What are you building?"
"A Skeleton Archer."
At those words, Rick shot up from his bed like a spring.
"Whoa! Whoa! You're using a Skeleton Archer already? In this Duel Evaluation?!"
"Yep. Can't say yet whether it'll work or not."
"That's supposed to be way too tricky for us to assemble! Which brand did you get?"
"Vanilla."
Rick's eyes lit up and he grabbed Simon by the shoulders.
"Come on, what are you waiting for? Lead the way already!"
"...Haha."
The two of them slipped out of Room 409 and headed for the common lounge. The dorm study hall was crowded and demanded quiet, so this was the better spot.
"This is perfect."
There was no one else around—just the two students chatting in the spacious room. Simon and Rick took their seats.
"Come on! Hurry up and take them out!"
Simon opened his subspace and pulled out the boxes. Black boxes with Vanilla written across them in shining silver letters.
Rick let out a low whistle.
"Can I open one?"
"Be my guest."
When Rick lifted the lid, pristine white bones lay arranged on the luxurious red cloth.
"Gorgeous. Just gorgeous."
Students chatting nearby grew curious as well and drifted over for a closer look.
"What's that?"
"A Saphirros Skeleton Archer set. Vanilla Brand, apparently."
"Whoa...!"
"So this is Vanilla?"
They all peered into the box with the kind of eyes usually reserved for a new product launch.
Watching them, Simon couldn't help but chuckle. It was one of the nice things about a necromancer school—everyone shared the same interests.
"So where's the assembly manual?"
"One sec."
Simon rummaged through the box and found the paper tucked underneath. He spread it out, and every preparation was complete.
"Okay. Here we go."
"Let's gooo!"
First, Simon channeled Jet-Black into the summoning magic circle inscribed on the skull.
The colorless circle turned black, and the Rune Script characters interlocked and revolved, building the living ecosystem that was a magic circle.
"Is that it? Is it done?"
Simon murmured to himself as he lifted the skull up and down.
The magic circle was running, but the skull showed no movement at all. Examining it more closely, he found that some of the Rune Script wasn't turning properly yet.
"Look at this, Simon!"
Rick, who'd been studying the assembly manual, spoke up.
"See this corner of the magic circle, right here? It says you have to supply Jet-Black with a Circling technique to anchor it in!"
"What's Circling?"
"It's a technique they use to build magic circles in Jet-Black Mechanics, I think. Something we haven't even been taught yet."
Typical—this was a skeleton too advanced for freshmen, and it had thrown up an obstacle right out of the gate. Simon pulled his Jet-Black Mechanics textbook out of his subspace.
"Circling... Circling..."
Scanning down the table of contents, he found the entry about midway through. Simon turned to the page.
"Huh, this is...?"
It struck him as awfully familiar—the content was remarkably similar to what Bahil had once explained to him about core manipulation.
The circulation of Jet-Black.
Contemplation.
The Black Sun.
It was nearly identical to the core technique Simon was already using. He found himself thinking that the tips Bahil had shared had probably been built on this very Circling method.
If it's this, I might actually be able to pull it off.
Simon slowly raised his right arm and closed his eyes.
Not conversion—circulation. An image of something flowing in a circle.
Shaaaaaa—
Jet-Black began to rise slowly from Simon's palm.
—Jet-Black has a property of remembering.
Bahil's voice echoed in his memory, right beside his ear.
—It is much like a person's arms and legs. Repeat the same motion hundreds, thousands of times, and eventually the Jet-Black will seek to reproduce the flow it has absorbed, all on its own, without conscious thought. Remarkable, isn't it?
Simon gritted his teeth.
Hold the center, and contemplate. Simply maintain it—let the Jet-Black memorize this flow and tame itself.
Chaaaaaaa—
The Jet-Black settled into a steady rhythm. Sweat poured off Simon's body like rain.
There it is.
Now, even when he let his attention drift elsewhere for a moment before returning, the Jet-Black kept revolving on its own, without his guidance.
This was Circling.
Simon compressed the whirlpool of Jet-Black down to a tiny size, then drove it straight into one of the four corners of the magic circle.
Wuuuuuuum!
The corner lit up. Like a machine receiving full power, the dormant Rune Script around it surged with life and began to move.
"Dude, what even are you..."
Rick wore the expression of a man at a loss for words.
"...You just glanced at the textbook once and copied it? Are you seriously a genius or what?"