The Felwinter Mage Tower's Commission Storage Vault
The Mage's Tower was a direct institution of the Duke of Iceland.
Naturally its primary duties involved commissions from the Duke of Iceland or the Felwinter family, but that did not mean they refused other requests.
Of course, most of the work was handled under Catherine and Olivier. What actually reached them were only documents for approval or reports.
The reason was simple.
The level simply did not match.
In other words, even if it was not quite on the scale of the Felwinter treasury, a storage vault one tier below it existed inside the Mage's Tower.
"There's a space like that in the tower?"
"Of course there is."
Catherine looked at Karem as if she could not believe what he was asking, utterly dumbfounded.
"Just where do you think we store all those countless commission items that powerful figures leave with us after paying heavy fees?"
Appraisal of goods obtained from dungeons. Commissions from young nobles ahead of their engagement ceremonies. Requests for the repair and production of broken magic tools. Proofreading of papers that demanded confidentiality, and so on.
As a direct institution of the duke—and one that housed no fewer than two great mages—the reception fee for a commission started at a minimum of dozens of silver coins. Even so, commissions poured in so steadily they had to be carefully filtered, and the clients' professions and ranks were every bit as varied as the requests themselves.
"If something were damaged, at least we could make excuses. But if it were lost for any number of reasons, we would have to compensate the client in full."
"What thief would be bold enough to break into the Mage's Tower?"
"Kid. Europa is wider than you think, and there are plenty of eccentrics and capable people out there. And do you really believe the mages under me never get any funny ideas?"
Catherine snorted as if she had just heard something from a naive child.
"Someone as timid as Narke wouldn't even dare."
"Ah, that one's a special case."
Catherine declared it flatly.
"As for an intruder, isn't there someone familiar to us right now who fits the bill?"
"Huh? Someone that bold—"
"Lady Alicia, I mean."
"Ah... ha."
"Puhuuuuuuuu—"
The moment she heard the seven letters Mary had spoken, Catherine let out a sigh so deep it seemed to sink into the ground.
Ever since she had entered Winterhome the previous winter, she had come to accept it as part of daily life, yet that did not mean Alicia's infiltrations had grown familiar.
The Mage's Tower was fundamentally a danger zone. Even setting aside the countless and varied magics and traps designed to repel intruders, there were explosions, experimental mistakes and failures, dangerous magical materials and tools—making it off-limits to outsiders in a sense entirely different from Winterhome itself.
"I still have no idea how that cheeky little Alicia manages to sneak in."
"Still, these days we can detect Lady Alicia's infiltrations fairly quickly. It takes a little time, though."
"That's the problem. If it were the instant she entered, fine—but it takes time? Does she have an assassin's talent or something?"
"Considering her appetite alone, maybe she's a prospective Sword Master?"
Mary shook her head at Karem's words, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Of course Lady Alicia eats more than other children her age, but if you look around there are plenty of people who eat even more."
"Lady Alicia runs around the castle all day long."
"Moreover, Lady Alicia is right in the middle of a growth spurt."
Mary turned her head back to the front as if it were nothing special.
"When you factor in activity levels more than double everyone else's—like a hardworking farmer—and the fact that she's growing, eating that much is surprising. Though even allowing for all that, she does seem to eat quite a lot."
"All I ever ate was a single bowl of grain porridge."
"That's because Junior Karem was persecuted in his village. In the end you filled your empty stomach with every kind of bug and rat, didn't you?"
"By the way, the comparison seems a little strange."
"The rougher the work, the more one eats. That's the rule."
After climbing corridors and stairs they arrived at the storage vault. Aside from the bear-shaped knocker, the door looked no different from the other doors in the tower—just an ordinary wooden door.
Of course, given the place, it was made of fine material and carried a few decorations. But that was all. It was excessively plain.
"How should I put it? It's more ordinary than I expected."
"Well, if it were unnecessarily flashy it would only draw attention."
"That bear-head ornament is unique, if anything."
"Ah—don't grab that."
Catherine lightly but firmly slapped away Karem's hand as he reached for the knocker.
"If you touch it, the security magic will activate."
"Ah. Right, of course."
"And then the countless security magics and traps set throughout the Mage's Tower will move to kill you horribly."
"That's a bit creepy."
Seeming satisfied that Karem had clamped his mouth shut, she nodded and laid her hand on the bear-shaped knocker.
"The more exceptions there are, the more variables arise. And variables are best kept to a minimum."
"I'm a little dissatisfied that I'm not included among those exceptions."
"You must never set foot inside."
"This is discrimination against house spirits, Contractor."
Mary protested so vehemently that even her expressionless face made the intensity clear.
"Absolutely not. What do you plan to do first if you go in?"
"Obviously clean, of course? I've never been able to enter even once since coming to the tower. Think of the enormous dust that must have piled up."
"That's exactly why not, you workaholic house spirit."
Catherine clutched her head with empty hands and shook it as if her temples ached.
"Let's just go in first. What would you do if I let you in?"
"Well, first I'd haul out every item and piece of furniture and wipe away every speck of dust and stain—"
"That's the problem."
Catherine swept the hand that had been holding her head toward Mary.
"Even I can only use—never mind interpret—the countless magics that have been endlessly layered over thousands of years to guard this vault's security. And you say you'll go in and clean?"
"Yes. Of course."
Mary nodded with absolute firmness.
"No way!"
Catherine shook her head just as firmly.
Azure flames blazed up in the eyes of the bear-shaped knocker. Even Karem could tell that meant the identity verification was complete.
"Alright, kid. You're coming inside with me."
"Oh, finally."
"And you. Wait here."
"Why!"
Without answering, Catherine gave Karem a light shove on the back through the open door.
Whoa! Karem nearly toppled but barely recovered his balance.
And then he saw it.
Decorative greatswords, wing-shaped shields, clawed gauntlets, empty glass bottles, metal lamps, gemstone rings the size of a thumb—countless objects presumed to be magic tools lay heaped haphazardly on shelves, tables, chairs, and the floor, like a room that had not been cleaned in half a year.
To put it bluntly, it was a complete dumpster.
An utterly inhuman dust-pit warehouse. Dust bunnies the size of a pinky finger even rolled about.
At least they had kept the bare minimum of conscience. Every item carried a parchment tag. Other than that, however, there was no classification whatsoever; magic tools were piled up like junk.
Magic tools that started at a minimum of dozens of silver coins!
Karem turned to Catherine with a look that said, Is this for real?
"Lady Atanitas. This is a complete dumpster, isn't it?"
As if that had not been the reaction she expected, a furrow formed between Catherine's brows. She soon gave a small nod, though.
"Hmm. A very logical point. I can't refute it."
"Does the Mage Tower get this many commissions?"
Of course there would not be that many items the great mage Catherine herself handled, yet even allowing for that, the magic tools piled like refuse in the vault were far too numerous. It was as if a quarter of Winterhome's treasury had been crammed into a single room.
"Well, half of these are items the clients couldn't collect for various reasons, or that simply remained as property of the Mage Tower. The other half are actual commission goods."
"You said all of these are magic tools, right?"
"Yes. Every last one is a magic tool."
"In that case, definitely..."
Mary really must not come in. There could not be a messier mess than this.
"Well, enough useless thoughts. Let's look for a magic tool you can use."
"Yes, well."
Karem nodded obediently—then an ominous thought suddenly surfaced. I don't have to dig through all that junk, do I?
Fortunately there was no need.
Catherine navigated the vault of junk and dust without the slightest hesitation, as if she knew exactly where every magic tool lay. No—looking closely, she was rapidly scanning the tags. The tags, however, listed only the names of the magic tools. Nothing about their effects.
"Ah, kid—you wouldn't do this, but just in case. Don't pick things up and examine them simply because they look interesting."
"Is there a reason?"
"If a curse is on them, or if they're items that choose their masters, you'd be the one in greater danger."
Scanning the shelves and examining accessories such as bracelets and necklaces, Catherine picked up a ring and turned to Karem.
"Kid. What do you think about rings?"
"Hmm. If it's for self-defense, I'd have to wear it every day, right?"
"Otherwise it loses the meaning of self-defense."
"Then that won't work. I can't wear a ring while cooking."
"Hmm. So rings are out."
Returning the ring to its place, Catherine continued her search.
"Anyway, as chief magic advisor I have the entire dictionary of magic tools that have entered and left this vault memorized. There are more cursed items—or ones that choose their masters—in here than you think."
"Hmm. I don't recall any such things in the Felwinter treasury."
"That's because only carefully selected pieces that have passed through my hands or the old man's go into the treasury."
"You've worked hard."
"Hmm."
Catherine dismissed it shortly, as if it were nothing.
To the Felwinter ducal house, treasures of every kind were offered every day. Of course no one was mad enough to present cursed treasures or magic tools. Still, for the one-in-a-million chance, Catherine and Olivier inspected them before they entered storage.
Of course, since I was appointed there hasn't been a single such case—but that doesn't mean none exist at all.
"Uh, Lady Atanitas?"
"Hmm? What is it?"
"Are all of those for checking self-defense items?"
"Yes. Why?"
Karem stared at the heavy leather pouch that had somehow settled into Catherine's grip with a look that said, Seriously? He had already watched her drop in at least several dozen bracelets and necklaces. And she was still putting more in?
"Do we really need to check that many?"
"Even these are carefully selected only for ones you can actually wear."
"You're calling that amount carefully selected?"
"If you knew how to handle mana, this pouch would have been at least three times larger."
Karem said nothing, yet his sickened expression made it clear he was silently asking whether they truly needed to go that far. A wordless protest.
Catherine lightly hummed and casually dismissed her attendant's objection. Comparing the inventory list in her head against the tags, she continued sweeping up magic tools without the slightest hesitation.