Heading North
As the decision to head north was finalized, Ian dove into preparations with renewed vigor. The monks of the Blue Key Monastery, Isilla, and even Zoltin pitched in enthusiastically to help with his journey.
"You know what, Ian? The peasants are calling you 'Saint Ian'."
"...Farmers?"
Ian couldn't help but ask in disbelief.
He was already aware that the monks were half-joking, half-serious about bestowing a saint's title on him. The monks who had traveled with Ian—especially those whose lives he had saved—called him the "Patron Saint of Coffee, Saint Ian." It was all because the monks were such die-hard otakus for the Heavenly Faith. They saw everything through the lens of divinity, from one to ten, so instead of simple thanks like "Thank you~" or "You're my lifesaver~," they bundled up their gratitude into calling him "Saint Ian."
"No? The monks said it."
"Even so, calling monks peasants..."
"They are peasants."
"..."
Isilla, that guy. There was something recklessly wild about him. No wonder he went around proselytizing in barbarian lands.
"Patron Saint of Coffee, huh. I've been sneaking sips until now, but from here on out, I'll have to get your blessing first."
"Please, cut the crap."
Isilla chuckled wickedly. He really did look like a grumpy old man.
"There was actually talk of nominating you as a real saint."
"For real?"
"For real. Know what happened?"
Isilla snickered as he continued.
"I told them to quit yapping and get back to copying scriptures."
"Ah. Right."
The monks who had journeyed with Ian had seriously proposed elevating him to one of the Heavenly Faith's saints. Their bold initiative deserved praise, but naturally, Ian wasn't recognized as such. His feats weren't exactly saintly. Surviving tomatoes? Just because they were harmless. The coffee blessing? Lacked impact.
If he went to the coffee's origin and performed a miracle in front of everyone, he might actually become the Patron Saint of Coffee... Ian let Isilla's words go in one ear and out the other. Becoming a Heavenly Faith saint held zero appeal. Besides, he'd probably meet their supreme deity naturally while studying magic anyway.
"Ah! Sir Ian! Sir Isilla!"
Mioniya, dressed in a proper nun's habit, greeted the two. Since arriving at the monastery, Ian hadn't seen her in that lewd nun outfit once. Wearing something so blasphemous around there might get her beaten to death for real. The abbot had hurriedly procured a proper habit, and she'd settled into the women's shelter as a guest.
"Ah, Mioniya. How's it going? Not too bored?"
"Kira and Belenca keep me company, so it's fine."
Her words said one thing, but her face told another. Worry clouded Mioniya's expression. It was only natural. She'd betrayed her convent on her own whim to side with Takarion and the Blue Key Monastery. She was under their protection for now... but she had nowhere else to go.
"If you're bored, want to come with me to the barbarian village?"
Mioniya recoiled in horror at Ian's question.
"Are you the type who says stuff like that when you mean 'go die'?"
Strikeout. No dice.
Ian, the wandering mage, had reached the realm of enjoying travel, but Mioniya—who'd spent her life cloistered—had no such affinity.
"You already forgot? I nearly died to barbarians too! And you're suggesting another trip?"
Ian tilted his head. Wasn't travel just... normal? He'd already half-forgotten, but in this era, journeys were rare. Wandering monster- and bandit-infested lands was impossible without a clear goal. Cases like Ian's were exceedingly uncommon. Mages were like the one-eyed man in the land of the blind to villagers—madmen in others' eyes.
"Bit awkward saying it myself, but I'm a pretty decent mage. Got tricks to dodge danger."
Ian meant it sincerely, but Mioniya shot back sarcastically. She really hated travel.
"Guess you don't think that'll be your last words."
Male last words special: It'll be fine.
Ian was speechless. Plenty of men did croak after insisting "It's fine~ It's fine~."
"So, what're you gonna do?"
"Haa... Beats me."
Mioniya sighed. The safest bet was begging Isilla for Zoltin's protection. But that'd trap her in the monastery forever. Yet Mioniya dreamed of defrocking—a blooming maiden yearning to ditch this damn habit and marry a handsome guy! A commoner's dream!
"Sister. You said last time you made that old nun outfit yourself."
"...!"
Mioniya jumped, glancing wildly at Isilla. Luckily, he knew nothing of her "lewd nun habit."
"You made your own habit? Handy with a needle, eh?"
"Her fashion sense is top-notch too."
"Ack! Urk! I mean—!"
Mioniya glared at Ian with a flushed face, but he innocently looked away. It was really pretty, though. Her style leaned more modern than medieval. Born today, she'd design for Prada or something. Maybe star in "The Nun Wears Prada."
"Here's the pitch."
Ian proposed to Mioniya.
"Ever thought of making clothes for my friend?"
"...Clothes?"
Mioniya reflexively pictured Belenca and Kira. Belenca, tall and busty, would rock an open-necked dress. Kira, with her sultry eyes and allure, a flashy gown... Was Ian into that kind of play(?)?
But an unexpected name popped from Ian's mouth.
"Make some for Baroness Talian."
"Talian? That far-off barony way northwest?"
Mioniya was a bit confused. Dressmaking was no issue. The distance was a plus—no convent abbess reach. Plus, working for a baron might earn protection.
"But I've never made men's clothes..."
The catch: as a nun, she knew women's bodies, not men's. Zero men's fashion sense.
"Ah, she's a woman, so it's fine."
"Pardon?"
"Baroness Talian. She's a girl."
Mioniya's face twisted oddly. His companions were all women. And this "friend" Talian too?
"Hm. Got it."
Conversation over, Mioniya mulled it seriously. Fleeing to Baroness Talian's land... Not bad. Actually, pretty good. Ian would vouch for her identity. Protection meant safety. If it worked out, she might even settle there.
Perfect.
Mioniya decided her next home: a barony ruled by some noblewoman named Lucy Talian.
'Done with holy folk tormenting me.'
She chose a noble's shelter over clerics'. Resolved, she rushed to Ian.
"I'll go to Talian!"
"Haha. Smart choice."
Mioniya was confident. She could craft outfits to win a young noblewoman's heart!
A few days before Ian's departure, she left the monastery first. Following his directions, she reached Talian safely.
Talian was better than expected. Sturdy soldiers mopping up bandits. Even passing werewolves greeting warmly—
"Ah! Hello, lady! New face!"
"???"
Werewolves wandering the barony? For real?!
Mioniya panicked briefly, but relaxed at the werewolf's Heavenly Faith token—
Like hell.
"Eek! Monster!"
"Calm down, lady. See this token? I'm a servant of He who follows heaven's will."
"Th-then, your favorite scripture?"
"Genesis 1:1.
"Let there be light."
Good lord. He spoke ancient tongue?! Mioniya had no choice but to trust the werewolf's piety. Only then did she realize: this was a mage's referral. Weirdos roaming around? Not surprising! Ian himself was a freakishly odd mage!
"Sent by Mage Ian? Oh! He's my master!"
...Figures.
Mioniya grumbled inwardly.
"This way. I'll introduce you to the baroness."
The werewolf Louis led Mioniya to Lucy.
"Hello, sister. Ian sent me."
"...? Who're you?"
Lucy, Talian's lord, blinked at the sudden nun visitor.
"Heard you have fine fabrics here... I know a bit of tailoring."
"???"
And so, Sister Mioniya arrived in Talian.
"Well then, Ian. Take care."
Bid farewell by the monks, Ian left the Blue Key Monastery. The abbot and others crowded out, praying for his safe return.
"Mage Ian! Please save Brother Takarion!"
"Save him, sir!"
Ian waved casually and spurred his horse. Takarion was a pain usually, but seeing so much love for him... not a total jerk.
Thinking back, what had he done wrong? Wrote annoyingly well. Good enough for a snake-hearted count to send assassins.
"You're in for it, huh?"
"Caw! Caw!"
Ian chatted with the mysteriously holy(?) bird. Northern converts would care for it.
Ian reached the northern-bound dock with Kira and Belenca.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. I'm good."
"Me too."
The harsh, frigid north. He'd suggested they stay in the Empire, but the women chose to follow.
"Still got debts to pay. Can't lounge in the Empire."
"Gotta earn coin. North's tough—pay's gotta be fat."
Kira and Belenca smiled in unison. Their grins brought Ian profound security. A comfort he'd never felt traveling solo. This is why people get travel buddies.
"Let's go!"
Sails down, the brig carrying Ian glided over the sea. Under clear sun, gulls winged alongside. After days at sea, Ian arrived at...
"Land ho!"
The icy frozen land. Northern barbarian territory.