Maestig Village
It was common knowledge that only creatures already imbued with phase force—magic beasts, aberrant species, sacred beasts, and the like—could receive the effects of an unprocessed phase stone.
And yet Master was receiving those effects?
Isilite found herself momentarily at a loss for words in front of the man who treated the extraordinary as ordinary.
Master, you seem almost like an aberrant species yourself?
Master, you really are beyond common sense?
Master, as expected, you are extraordinary?
“Have you ever seen anyone like me?”
“No… To be honest with you, Master, other people might even suspect you of being an aberrant. That is precisely why magic tools, magic devices, and enchanted armaments exist…”
“An aberrant, is it. Emergency Food.”
After listening to the explanation, Hwanin called Emergency Food over and set the blood-red phase stone atop its head.
Sensing something resting on its crown, Emergency Food rolled its eyes upward, then turned to look at Hwanin and let out a questioning kue?
“Emergency Food is an animal, not an aberrant species…”
“Experiment and trial are the engines of evolution.”
“…….”
With only a few words Hwanin sealed Isilite’s mouth. He toyed with the blood-red phase stone for a moment, lost in thought.
This was something that would not matter so long as he never told anyone. If someone asked why he kept fondling phase stones, he could simply shrug it off as a habit, or claim it brought him peace of mind.
The real problem would arise if a processed phase stone proved weaker than its raw counterpart.
Hwanin drew eight more phase stones from his pocket with a soft clatter. All of them had been obtained in the Labyrinth of No Light—three second-class stones and five first-class ones.
Six of them were the green variety with that slippery texture; the remaining two were blue and radiated a faint coolness when touched.
“Master, may I touch one as well?”
“Go ahead.”
Given permission, Isilite placed a blue phase stone no larger than a pinky nail on her bare palm and rolled it between her fingers.
“What does it feel like to you, Master?”
“Like being submerged in cool water.”
“……I still feel nothing at all. Could it be that only Soul Masters are affected?”
That possibility existed, Hwanin thought. Given how each class possessed unique traits, it might simply be a bonus granted to Soul Masters.
“This remains a secret. Whether we process the phase stones or not will be decided later, after proper testing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Having phase stones appraised at the Mage Association was expensive. Once he obtained stones of a suitable grade for appraisal, he could cross-verify the effects and then decide whether to process the blood-red and pearl-colored ones.
Kuuu…
As evening settled over the village and delicious aromas began to drift through the air, Emergency Food gave a weak cry, then nuzzled its head against Hwanin’s shoulder in a clear plea.
“Hungry, are you?”
Kuet.
Emergency Food rose expectantly at the prospect of dinner, only to sink back down in disappointment at Isilite’s next words.
“The village chief will prepare dinner, so wait a little longer.”
Kkuu.
The scents wafting in through the window clearly stimulated its appetite; even while seated, Emergency Food fidgeted and kept glancing outside.
Just as Isilite had said, when evening arrived the chief and the villagers arrived one after another bearing every kind of food imaginable.
The quantity was enough to cover a ten-meter rectangular table completely.
While gathering the souls together, Hwanin had counted: Maestig Village consisted of forty-seven households, counting the combined shops and homes. Every single household had brought one or two dishes, drinks, or bottles of liquor.
There were twenty-seven varieties of food including side dishes for drinking, fifteen bottles of alcohol, seven bottles of fruit juice, and a mountain of fruit for dessert. It was easily enough for ten people, yet…
Kkuhk.
Nothing remained. Hwanin had eaten two portions, Isilite three, and Emergency Food had polished off the remaining five all by itself.
“…….”
Hwanin regarded Emergency Food with concern as it sat slumped on the living-room floor, belly swollen like a fattened kue. Isilite, who had just finished preparing Kurti’s dinner of assorted fruits and well-dried hay, reassured him.
“Kues in their final growth stage eat enormous amounts. Even a straw-colored kue can finish an entire roast pig in one sitting before that stage ends.”
Once they reached adulthood, she explained, their appetite shrank to one-fifth.
Through the stable window Hwanin could see Kurti contentedly devouring a freshly cleaned feed trough piled high with hay and more than ten pieces of fruit.
He gave a small nod, then picked up the Black Spear.
“Shall we spar a little to help with digestion?”
“Yes, sir!”
Several days of sparring had already passed, yet the pattern remained unchanged.
Gripping the Black Spear in reverse, Hwanin never held back; whenever an opening appeared he struck and thrust with full force. Isilite twisted and struggled desperately to take even one fewer blow.
Thirty minutes later Hwanin lowered the spear and spoke to Isilite, who was sweating as though caught in a downpour.
“That is enough for today.”
“Hwaak, hak! Th-thank you… for your hard work…! Huat.”
With superhuman endurance she fought the urge to collapse, half-leaning on her greatsword while wiping her forehead with a sleeve.
“T-today… felt… harder than usual…”
“We cannot afford to exhaust ourselves like this outdoors.”
“Ahh…”
As though grasping a profound truth, Isilite nodded, propped her heavy greatsword against the wall, and staggered inside.
Her physical durability is remarkable.
Even after he had put genuine force into the blows, Isilite was still walking around perfectly fine.
It stood in stark contrast to Brillit, who had collapsed after only twenty minutes of sparring under far gentler strikes.
She has a bit of regenerative ability as well. I can afford to use a little more strength.
Thinking something that would have made Isilite flinch had she overheard, Hwanin brushed the dust—raised by Isilite—from his clothes and followed her indoors.
Yet Isilite was nowhere to be seen.
Assuming she was washing up in her room, he sat in a chair to rest. Then Isilite poked only her head out of the bathroom doorway and announced that the bath was ready.
“You may come in!”
Still toying with the blood-red phase stone, Hwanin stepped into the bathroom and quietly marveled.
It was a Western-style bathroom of roughly four pyeong.
Floor and walls were finished in clean silver tiles, while the ceiling retained the aged look of lime plaster and log beams, reminiscent of old roof tiles and eaves.
Occupying half the room was a three-person bathtub that looked as though it had been carved from a single massive gray boulder, filled to the brim with steaming hot water.
When had she prepared all this hot water? Examining the tub more carefully, Hwanin spotted what appeared to be a circulating pump that brought water in from outside and sent it back out again.
Leaning his upper body out the open window, he saw Isilite beside a stove-like hearth built into the bathroom wall, continuously working a bellows-like foot pedal while firewood burned. A hose-like tube was attached to the end of the pedal; each time she pressed down, instead of a rush of air there came the bubbling sound of water flowing.
“Master, how is the water temperature?”
He dipped a hand in. It was the perfect heat for melting away fatigue.
“This will do.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hwanin stripped, tossed his clothes into a basket, and scooped hot water over himself with a gourd ladle. Heat bloomed across his skin—
Whooosh—
—only for the night wind sweeping through the large window to drape him in a chill sharp enough to clear his head completely.
Using the bathing tools Isilite had prepared in advance, he washed once thoroughly, then sank into the tub.
Splash— A little water overflowed as bubbles of fatigue popped one after another, drawing a deep, satisfied sigh from him.
The tub was deep enough that even sitting properly submerged him to the shoulders.
When he reclined slightly, the gently sloping end cradled his lower back in an utterly perfect posture.
Excellent…
The tub at the Olts Hotel had not been bad, merely a little cramped—a typical American-style one-person affair.
After days of using a small tub where stretching his legs pressed his back against the far end and the water barely reached his solar plexus, stepping into something this spacious brought a genuine sense of liberation.
Knock knock knock.
[Master. I will attend to your bath.]
Just as a pleasant drowsiness from the heat began to settle over him, a knock sounded at the bathroom door followed by Isilite’s voice.
“Come in.”
At his brief reply the door opened and Isilite entered, her light-brown hair twisted up and pinned, a single towel covering only her front.
The moment his gaze landed on her, Hwanin closed his eyes again.
What registered first was not the bruise marks on her bare arms and legs, but the pale side of her breast exposed on either side of the towel.
It was obvious she was naked beneath that single strip of cloth.
Splash— He scooped water with both hands and scrubbed his face, then spoke to Isilite, whose faintly flushed cheeks had gone rigid.
“There is no need for that.”
“Y-yes?”
“I trust you. So long as you do not betray me, that trust will continue. Therefore you need not force yourself to abandon your own principles simply to earn my faith.”
“Ah…” Isilite made a dazed sound and felt her cheeks grow hot.
Th-that wasn’t my intention at all! I just wanted to serve Master closely…
Yet after those words her legs refused to move, as though petrified.
She sincerely wanted to go back and thrash her past self. Why had she said such a thing back then? If she had simply stayed quiet she would already be halfway there!
Clutching the towel pressed tightly against her front, Isilite fidgeted for a long moment before finally managing to speak.
“Th-that was then… b-but n-now it’s d-different…”
“Different how?”
Hwanin’s counter-question snapped her mind into sharp focus. I-if I explain it here, won’t that mean I’m asking Master for… that sort of thing?
The instant her thoughts cooled as though doused with cold water, the sheer embarrassment of standing there covered by nothing but a single towel became almost unbearable.
Strange. Back when she had been a bandit chief she had washed in the river with her underlings without a second thought.
Well, those fellows had not been men so much as burdens she had to take responsibility for, and everyone—male and female alike—had simply piled in together…
So why was she so mortified now? She had listened to their sniggering dirty jokes with complete indifference, yet at this moment her vision swam and her head spun.
Hwanin, for his part, was running through several calculations of his own.
Whether he should embrace her, what consequences that would bring later, whether it would create problems on the journey ahead.
While he watched her squirm in confusion and quietly weighed the variables, his thoughts suddenly halted.
A strong gust of wind swept through the window and flipped the towel covering Isilite’s front high into the air.
A pair of under-breasts swollen to bursting beneath the pressure of her arms.
A waist grown even more slender, emphasizing the flare of her hips.
The faint, alluring contours of abdominal muscle.
A smooth white lower belly where spiritual energy pulsed at twice the strength of an ordinary person.
And a neat thatch of light-brown pubic hair demurely covering part of the mound.
“…….”
“……!”
With a sharp pak Isilite slammed the towel back down, half-crouched in panic, then fled the bathroom with her shoulders flushed scarlet.
“…….”
The image of her peach-pale buttocks and the full expanse of bare skin that had been laid bare before his eyes lingered on his retinas. Hwanin splashed bathwater over his face several times.
Was it because she was a combatant, or was Isilite simply exceptional?
Until now her body had been hidden by clothes and armor, so he had never noticed. The naked form he had just seen surpassed every woman he had ever laid eyes on.
Between the women he had known on Earth and those of this world there existed a gap of roughly five full ranks.
Bodies that would rank among the top five results if one searched “nude art” on the internet were commonplace here.
And Isilite stood at the absolute pinnacle even among those.
If he were to rank them in a vulgar fashion, Isilite was first.
Skipping second, third, and fourth, fifth place went to Ielkata, whose chest was a little modest yet whose skin was as white as if dusted with flour.
Joint sixth: Huini and Ennel of Yulkam Village, whose healthy vitality from constant activity was captivating.
Joint eighth: Ryuhui and Efnis of Yulkam, and Village Chief Mera of Etbruk. Everyone else clustered around the same level.
Tilting his head back to look out the window, he saw the pale half-moon and the river of the Milky Way. Across that sea of moon and stars, Isilite’s naked body was painted.
Her height of over 170 cm was by no means a drawback.
Long, elegant limbs. Thighs and abs so firm they looked ready to spring back if pressed. Elastic breasts that seemed to defy gravity needed no further comment.
The faint muscle definition in her shoulders and arms only added another layer of allure, reminding him she was a swordswoman.
Honestly, he would have liked nothing more than to stand her naked by the window and simply admire her for a long while.
It must be because she is a close-combat class.
He had heard that those who awakened as warriors, fighters, or hunters underwent a physical adjustment that optimized their bodies for battle. That was probably the cause. Just then a knock reached his ears.
Knock knock knock.
[Master, may I come in?]
“Come in.”
This time he found himself curious what form she would take. Had she overcome her embarrassment, or would she postpone it until next time?
When Isilite entered, Hwanin let out a quiet snort of laughter.
She was wearing something like a sports bra on top and shorts below, fidgeting awkwardly as she stepped inside.
Somehow the idea of simply watching her struggle with her own dilemma seemed entertaining.
After letting Isilite attend him through the rest of the bath, Hwanin restored a single white soul orb from his left arm to its original form.
「…….」
The soul of a girl roughly ten years old kept her head bowed for a moment, then slowly lifted it to look at him.
“Come here.”
When the dog-eared girl-soul approached, he placed a hand on her head and let a gentle warmth flow into her. Isilite, who had just emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair, flinched and widened her eyes.
“Master, I thought all the souls had already attained salvation?”
“This child is the last. I asked her to wait a little because I have a request.”
That request was also the reason they had come to Maestig Village in the first place.
“Isilite, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Simply give the command.”
She stood before the sofa where Hwanin sat and answered without even hearing the content. He fell silent for a moment, then asked,
“You would agree without even knowing what it is?”
“Because it is you, Master.”
The look that asked whether any further reason was needed made Hwanin study her eyes briefly before he nodded.
“I am going to try bestowing a blessing upon you using this child’s soul.”
“……With a soul?”
“Every blessing I have given you until now was performed through spirits. Especially powerful ones used the souls of dead beasts, monsters, or aberrants. The invisible explosions and piercing attacks you have seen are also powered by soul force.”
“…….”
Isilite’s mouth fell slightly open.
W-well… it seems my Master is an extremely technical person.