Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Water Flow Manipulation (2)
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Roxana split her forces in two. One group set up a thorough perimeter, while the other handled the cleanup.
They gathered the bodies in one place, checked for any personal items that could identify them, pocketed anything useful, and smashed and cleared away the unnecessary debris.
Sorry as she was for the dead mercenaries, there was no capacity to haul them all away. Covering them with clean cloth and notifying Quinis's mercenary guild was the best they could do.
"These guys were awfully thorough."
Roxana muttered as she watched the work unfold.
An assassination like this always had to account for failure—especially when you absolutely couldn't let anyone know who was behind it.
That's why professional assassins carried only carefully selected items and even prepared suicide poisons.
In other words, rummaging through an assassin's body for a hundred days wouldn't yield much.
If something big turned up? That meant they were amateurs. Or it was deliberate misinformation left behind.
Yet they'd swept away every last body, determined not to leave even the tiniest clue.
"Well, this isn't your run-of-the-mill incident..."
The Oceanis Family's influence was absolute in this region.
A direct descendant—not even a branch member—killed not in a heroic duel but a cowardly ambush. The fallout would be massive.
Roxana shook her head and turned to Galen.
"You—keep a low profile for a while."
"Pardon?"
"You're the sole survivor. And the young master's closest aide at that. They might think you know something about the attackers' identities."
"I have no idea at all... If even the young master didn't know, how could I..."
"Doesn't matter if you actually do. What matters is that the surviving attackers might think so. If they do, they'll try to silence you to tie up every loose end."
For the same reason, the Oceanis Family would see Galen as the one potential witness with clues.
They could claim ignorance of Jerbon's fate, but if Galen died here too, Roxana would face real accountability. She had no choice but to ensure his safety.
"Understood. I'll be careful."
Galen replied obediently.
In truth, even without her warning, he knew he had to watch himself.
Her reasoning held water, but they still hadn't confirmed if the attackers' goal was the Secret Manual. Until he safely delivered it to the family, complacency wasn't an option.
As the two sank into their separate thoughts, the sun fully set and torches were lit.
Just as the soldiers finished up and caught their breath...
"They're here."
The ten cavalry who'd left Quinis last arrived, towing two carriages.
They reeked of luxury. They were Roxana's personal vehicles.
"Ho" instead of escorts because no one rode inside.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes!"
"Then let's load them up."
The carriages carried hastily procured wooden coffins.
This was for transporting a noble's remains, so carts wouldn't do—they'd brought full carriages.
Jerbon's body went in the first; the four dedicated guards' in the second.
"It's late. We're heading back."
"Yes!"
Night marches were usually avoided, but Roxana judged returning to the city beat camping here, where attackers might lurk.
As the soldiers prepared to depart, she called Galen over.
"Ride in the carriage on the way back."
"How could I ride comfortably alone?"
"You're the young master's valet. Guarding his coffin is beyond reproach. Besides, you'll need to move again tomorrow morning. Rest while you can."
"...I'll gratefully accept the mayor's kindness. Thank you."
Galen stopped refusing. Exhausted already, and now with an excuse to ride—how could he say no?
Of course, dozing off inside and getting caught would stir rumors, but he was confident he could stay awake.
Not with a chance to read the Secret Manual on the line. He'd fight the drowsiness.
Reading it right in front of Jerbon's coffin pricked his conscience a bit.
But he'd said deliver or burn it—not "don't look."
Pretending to have a conscience now, after coming this far? Total hypocrisy. Galen gave a wry, self-mocking smile.
"Move out!"
With Roxana's shout, the hundred cavalry and two carriages set off.
Galen pulled out the Secret Manual.
Plenty of time until Quinis—he'd run a simple test. How long for 1% progress?
Just holding it cover-down felt like having it in his pocket.
Hand resting on an open page was like flipping through actively.
'Contact with the inner pages is key. Cover's just a case. Not fully sealed, so even cover contact gives a tiny effect—makes sense.'
Anyway, no need for fake reading motions. Convenient.
Once he got serious, progress climbed fast.
Around 50%, Galen felt something odd.
Just anticipation? But as it rose, he grew sure it wasn't psychological.
The Secret Manual itself was the source.
Something leaked from its pages. No five senses caught it, but Galen perceived it—faintly at first, sharpening with progress.
'That's why it's covered? To minimize leakage. Whatever it is.'
A twinge of fear for the unknown, but curiosity won. He stared at the text.
Finally.
The moment progress hit 100%, Galen's world twisted.
"...!"
He barely clamped his mouth to stifle a scream.
Senses expanded.
No—not expanded. Expansion implies growth of existing things.
Creation.
A new sense beyond the five—a sixth sense was born. No better words.
Unfamiliar info flooded through it. His brain took time to process the alien sensation.
'...This.'
Regaining composure, Galen sensed a cool energy settling inside him.
No idea how, when gulping ice water wouldn't chill your gut like this.
Almost simultaneously, similar energy trickled faintly from the Secret Manual—the source of that earlier feeling.
And he knew what he could do with it.
Naturally, instinctively. No teacher needed.
He set the Manual aside and pulled a canteen from his bag.
"Huuu."
Deep breath. Focus.
Moments later.
Like slo-mo fountain spray, water arced backward from the canteen, rising slowly.
Up to eye level, it coalesced midair. A fist-sized orb spun lazily.
Hard to describe, but closest was...
'...Playing with mud?'
Like molding clay in a pottery class into rough shapes.
Invisible hands, willed into motion, grabbing, pushing, pulling water.
Of course, water flowed away if unattended—unlike stable clay. Huge difference.
No prior experience controlling with thought alone. Brutally hard. Full focus barely held it.
"Mm."
Suddenly, Galen grunted short.
Control slipped; the blob collapsed and fell.
Splash!
His thigh soaked like a water balloon hit.
But he ignored it. Even drenched head to toe, he wouldn't care.
'It works. For real!'
His heart pounded. He'd cast real magic.
The slip happened when the cool energy—drained during control—hit zero.
Mana, probably? Mages expended mana for spells.
Now, idle, it regenerated slowly. Felt it.
With recovered mana, quick retry—worked fine.
No Manual needed. He'd keep the magic post-return.
'Then why'd the young master carry it? Other effects?'
Whatever. No attachment to something to return.
Focus: honing his own power.
Having watched Jerbon's strength up close, this water trick with depleted mana was far off. Hard work ahead.
'Problem: no clue how to train...'.
Jerbon learned from elders as a kid, then researched in his study and trained in the yard.
Off-limits to a valet like Galen. Training he could mimic solo, but lessons and research? No way.
'Rare geniuses self-taught magic, so solo possible.'
Lost in thought, his eyes caught text.
Water Flow Manipulation Lv.1
Progress to next level: 72%
Level attached to Water Flow Manipulation.
Reminded him of Earth games from over twenty years ago.
Most used points for skills, but some had proficiency. Use more, grow stronger.
"Progress to next level"—just spam it?
'Wait, why 72% already?'
He had practiced...
Galen rallied recovered mana, played with the canteen water again.
Mid-focus, the water felt suddenly lighter.
Water Flow Manipulation Lv.2
Progress to next level: 1%
Stopped the spell. Level up confirmed. Felt real—not meaningless.
'Why so fast, though.'
Not complaining.
Praying no 9999 cap, Galen resumed water play.
Progress aside, it was just fun.