The Trial of Mana - Training Day 3
“The foundation of sorcery begins with feeling the changes in mana.”
That meant one had to sense mana first.
Following his words, Freesia poured pure mana into Edgar’s body, guiding it to flow through every corner of his form.
Edgar kept his eyes closed, directing all his nerves toward that sensation.
The silky, snow-white skin of his Freesia had long been forgotten.
*Is it actually doable?*
He was nothing more than a pack mule, an ordinary man.
A curse-ridden pack mule, at that.
Yet feeling the mana flowing through him so clearly was truly miraculous.
If one could feel the blood coursing through one’s veins, perhaps this was what it felt like.
“Hmm.”
Freesia let out a short sigh and removed her hand from Edgar’s shoulder.
“I’ve poured mana in, but what do you sense?”
Edgar’s gaze turned toward the back of his head.
“Yeah. I feel a flow of water inside.”
“Really?”
Sensing a flow was a good sign.
There were always those who felt nothing no matter how much mana one poured.
Freesia glimpsed hope that things were going better than she had feared.
As long as he wasn’t too dull-witted, they could eventually raise his level.
“For the next few days, we’ll just focus on feeling mana. It seems simple, but this stage is actually the most important.”
“Eh? Then you must have suffered a lot, Your Highness…”
“It’s fine. It’s nothing special.”
Freesia smiled while recalling the time Iris had taught her sorcery.
She had sat on Iris’s lap and leaned against her chest back then—truly comfortable……
“I’m sorry. I’ll work hard to reduce Your Highness’s burden as much as possible.”
Edgar said this with a remorseful expression, and a gentle curve appeared at the corner of Freesia’s lips.
In her eyes, the sight of the once-shattered man was faintly endearing.
*
Around the time the owner of the Yosangtang guild began keeping silent under the pretext of sorcery training, the outside world was in chaos.
Hans, who had sold off all the remaining silk, had spread the rumor.
For him, accepting that someone else was profiting from what he had obtained was hard to swallow.
His stomach hurt terribly because of it.
[They traded with those filthy horned beasts?! No matter how blinded by profit, they should have kept their word!]
[Aigoo, my lord! But I truly had no idea! The man I traded with was definitely human, and the others were hidden behind robes—I never suspected! If the Wanderer hadn’t come, I would have never known!]
Silk made by the hands of filthy horned beasts.
And the nobility’s envoys, wearing clothes made from that silk, treated his shop like their own.
Hans had to travel across noble estates and give excuses until his mouth was raw.
This was a huge crisis for him, yet he had cleverly weathered it without any losses.
His strategy of selling the Wanderer’s name had worked perfectly.
A countess’s name carried far more prestige than any noble or king on the continent.
Spitting out that she had found the Wanderer herself made deep questioning impossible.
Ironically, every excuse Hans gave was rooted in the truth of what he had actually experienced.
“Hey! Burn every last bit of that cursed silk! It was touched by those filthy horned beasts’ hands…!”
“Really… Burn it?”
Amid the turmoil this rumor caused across the kingdom, a nobleman gave a firm order.
“Burn the silk!”
His servants stared in shock, and the nobleman strained his eyes to shout.
“Kuung…!”
At that moment, the memory of receiving silk and feeling joy flashed through his mind.
Even now, the silk clothing’s radiant light shook his heart.
Even if made by filthy horned beasts, the silk was still beautiful.
The clothes made from it were the same.
“Sir…?”
The servant, standing two steps behind, asked carefully.
He had intended to obey the initial command, but the owner’s hesitation made him hesitate.
If the nobleman’s pride and disgust had been stronger, he would have burned the silk without a second thought.
It was a harsh reality that most humans looked down on the horned beasts.
Yet the hatred implanted by knowledge rather than experience wasn’t nearly as strong.
At least not enough to overshadow the silk’s value.
“Hmph! No. Put it all in boxes and store them in a quiet corner of the warehouse. Manage it periodically.”
“Yes, understood.”
So he chose the path of forgetting rather than burning.
He would wait for the day when he could once again wear silk clothing boldly.
Meanwhile, those with relatively weaker power saw an opportunity to deal with the horned beasts.
They chose clear profit, desire, and even vanity over hatred or pride.
Among them were those who had been captivated purely by the beauty of silk.
For example, one of the viscounts in the human kingdom—Jail Hound.
[The image of silk has plummeted to the abyss; the value should have crashed too. But no one is selling, and there’s no sign of silk flooding the market…]
*Tap tap.*
He sat on the sofa in his study, lightly tapping his knee with his own fingers.
Without stock, one couldn’t obtain silk.
Not even the silk they intended to discard.
He felt extremely sorry for the situation, yet also found it absurd.
There were countless people shouting to burn silk from all sides.
Yet only one person was actually disposing of it.
[Maybe they burned it or erased every trace…]
Somehow, he doubted it.
As a noble, he had witnessed many nobles whose actions differed from their words, but this was the most blatant.
That was why he felt confused—wondering if this was right.
*Tsk.*
He clicked his tongue and stood from the study.
“Hey, anyone there?”
“Yes.”
A servant rushed in from outside and bowed his head.
Jail Hound was fairly gentle among nobles, but he had eccentric sides that required caution.
“Prepare for a long journey. Bring plenty of supplies. Include money.”
“Yes, understood.”
The servant answered without asking why, for he knew following orders without question was the way to live safely and comfortably.
“Yeah. Go ahead. Bring the steward on the way.”
“At once.”
After the servant left to carry out the orders, less than a minute later, a young man dressed in a luxurious suit entered the study.
The steward of the Jail Hound viscountcy.
“Viscount, you called?”
The steward greeted him with a dashing appearance, and Jail Hound nodded.
“Yeah. Actually, I have a long journey ahead. So while I’m away, you’ll manage the territory well.”
If the steward was here, there would be no problem running the territory.
He was also no one to backstab.
That was why trust and confidence filled Jail Hound’s voice.
“I entrust it to you. May I ask where you plan to go?”
“To the horned beasts’ land.”
“Eh…? To the horned beasts’ land? Is that true?”
The steward’s eyes widened in surprise.
Announcing a sudden trip to the horned beasts’ land made sense for surprise.
“Indeed. But is that so surprising?”
Jail Hound chuckled and teased him, and the steward covered his mouth with his hand, clearing his throat.
The steward recovered his fallen expression and answered.
“Umm…! Sorry. But going to the horned beasts’ land directly is too shocking….”
“Surprising, you say? It’s been centuries since there was any contact.”
“Not just that. It’s a place filled with filthy filth, so of course. It was treated as nonexistent.”
“Filth, you say. How absurd.”
Jail Hound looked at the silk suit hanging on the wall and smiled.
The steward, looking in the same direction, asked.
He accurately read his master’s intention behind the seemingly random words.
“What do you find absurd about it?”
“How they think the horned beasts are dirty and vulgar, yet refuse to change their attitude even after making beautiful things. They pretend to be embarrassed, pretend to be angry, but can’t bear to discard the goods.”
“Everyone has a front and a back, after all.”
“Of course. But it’s too obvious and absurd. Especially when higher nobles than me are at a loss—it’s hilarious.”
In the social circles, and the rumors Jail Hound had heard.
The reality that status could never be the measure of nobility.
Those things exposed so blatantly…
Jail Hound shifted his gaze from the beautifully arranged suit.
It meant his interest was turning to the steward.
“Is there any important or urgent matter I must handle?”
“Yes. There is nothing that requires your approval. You just need to pay a little more attention to territorial management.”
“Indeed. Since I have no separate work or things to cultivate, I can go.”
Jail Hound answered in a calm tone as if he already knew everything.
He had only confirmed it through questioning.
“Then I can go without worry. Manage the territory well while I’m away.”
“I entrust it to you.”
The steward’s voice carried warmth and strength.
In his mind, he thought only of operating the territory perfectly during the absence.
And also the intent to prepare for any contingency.
For example, if the viscount’s return from the long journey was delayed, he would send a messenger or search party.
“Viscount. It would be best to prepare a detailed travel plan for contingencies.”
The steward suggested with a serious expression, and Jail Hound’s brows furrowed slightly.
It was no different from tying his feet in an already urgent situation.
But the steward’s resolve was so strong and right that he couldn’t object.
“Tsk. You’re too rigid in everything.”
Jail Hound clicked his tongue, then ordered him to fetch the map at once.
In the end, the preparations made in haste bore no fruit, and they could only set out after the day changed.