Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Gray Fortress
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The North was a cold, hungry place.
Higher latitude than the central capital meant the sun hung lower in the sky, delivering less solar energy per unit area...
From there on, it delved into earth sciences, biology, and life sciences, so I'll skip the details.
This fantasy world even had swarms of beasts charging south from the North.
The North bore the fate of blocking those waves.
All things considered, it was the worst place for humans to live.
That's why most merchant caravans banded together into massive groups, forming huge convoys to travel.
Heading there was risky in itself, but supplying the army was a must.
We hitched a ride with one such convoy, heading north.
Gwendolyn revealed her identity, while Valerius and I used aliases.
I was "Howard," and Sir Valerius was "Leonard."
"Leonard... Doesn't exactly scream strength. I should've stuck with my usual alias."
Sir Valerius grumbled, clearly displeased.
"What was your usual one?"
"Octavius."
"Ooh..."
I pictured a grad student-obsessed professor with four mechanical arms sprouting from his back.
Valerius turned to me.
"You wouldn't get it, but a strong-sounding name keeps the riffraff at bay."
"We won't need that this time."
"Hm?"
I pointed at Gwendolyn chatting with another merchant leader outside the carriage.
"With the sole heir of House Everglow right there, what do we have to worry about?"
"Fair point. True enough."
Sir Valerius nodded readily.
And so, Valerius and I took on new identities as "escort mages of House Everglow."
After that long journey, we finally reached the gateway to the North: the Gray Fortress.
I peered through the carriage window at the gray city gates.
The city wasn't all that big. Compared to the capital, the population was sparse.
There was no real vitality to the place overall.
It was drab through and through.
This was the line dividing the central regions from the North.
Beyond these walls, there were no more "city walls."
Because past this beast front line, there were only hunter-gatherers, fugitives, and monsters.
"Ugh, I'm beat."
The moment I stepped out of the carriage, I stretched my stiff body.
Crack, crack.
A satisfying pop echoed from my joints.
I turned to Gwendolyn.
"Do you know why joints make that sound when you crack them?"
"No? Why?"
"Actually, no one knows for sure."
"..."
"Heh heh heh."
Gwendolyn gaped at me, utterly baffled.
What can you do?
It's the truth.
Even in a world where humanity could predict the universe's future, they never pinned down the exact cause of that cracking sound.
I love stories like that.
They drive home how not every field advances at the same pace.
Just then, Northern soldiers guarding the military barracks blocked our path.
"Halt! This is a civilian control zone from here on..."
Before he could finish, Gwendolyn stepped forward.
She flashed a crest emblazoned with her house's emblem and declared,
"I've come to deliver a letter from my father, the former legion commander, to the commander here."
"..."
The soldier's eyes went wide.
After that, it was smooth sailing.
I whispered to Sir Valerius,
"What would you have done if it was just the two of us?"
"Simple. Knock one out, slap on a disguise spell."
"And if we ended up wanted?"
"Report it to the Imperial Court. Ask them to sort it out quick."
"..."
I was speechless.
Are all archmages like this?
Gwendolyn's talk with the commander went off without a hitch.
I wasn't even allowed in the meeting.
As an "attendant," it was only natural.
Still, the outcome wasn't bad.
There was already a squad tracking the target, so we were joining them.
Gwendolyn came back to us.
"Um... By the book, the attendants and I have to bunk separately."
She looked genuinely sorry.
I waved it off.
"It's fine. The North is short on building materials anyway, so officer quarters won't be overflowing."
And so, Valerius and I headed to the enlisted barracks.
The first glimpse of our lodging made me doubt my eyes.
No way. This can't be right.
What stood before us was a shabby field tent.
"What the hell is this...?"
"..."
We stood there, stunned for a while.
'Won't this thing fly away in the wind while we're sleeping...?'
I eyed the sturdy brick officer quarters where Gwendolyn would stay.
Lucky her.
Tsk.
Valerius clicked his tongue.
"Should've revealed our identities."
"Nah, let's not. We gotta focus on the mission. Still, I'll ask if there's anything better."
"Thanks. Disciple of Dolloren."
I asked the soldier escorting us for the point man, tracking down the on-site lead for this op.
She was a Field Mage named Sara.
"You're the one in charge?"
"Ah, yes. What can I do for you?"
Sara greeted me with a bright smile.
Good.
She seemed reasonable.
I explained,
"See, I'm here for this purpose..."
"..."
But as soon as I got into details, her face hardened.
"That's standard procedure."
"...Pardon?"
"Sleep in that tent. Oh, and briefing's at 9 tomorrow. Mission starts right after."
"..."
The commander had clearly promised full cooperation.
Did Gwendolyn sell me out?
Gwendolyn, of all people?
Sara muttered,
"Hmph. Thinks slapping a fork on a full plate makes them one of us."
Her reaction hit me.
'Not Gwendolyn's fault, then.'
Switching mentors or assistants mid-project throws everyone off.
To them, we were intruders.
Reasoning wasn't gonna work.
Guess I'd have to prove myself starting tomorrow.
I trudged back to the tent empty-handed.
The moment I ducked inside, Valerius asked,
"So? They switch it?"
"Nope."
"Damn. Should I just wipe 'em all out?"
"Whoa, calm down, Professor."
"..."
"This tent's not so bad, right?"
"This?"
Valerius looked around, incredulous.
"A ragged orc-hide tent full of holes?"
"..."
He had a point; the thing was in rough shape.
I checked the imperial seal in the corner.
'From 70 years ago...'
Keeping a tent for 70 years? Not canteens.
Who embezzled what?
'The Empire's not that rotten...'
Felt less like necessity and more like they dumped junk on us on purpose.
Valerius flicked his wrist.
Faint flames sparked between the tears in the hide.
Sizzle.
He'd sealed the leather with heat.
Valerius said,
"Damn... Still feels inadequate."
Yeah. Orc hide blocks convection and conduction, but radiation loss was inevitable.
"Heh heh heh."
"..."
A chuckle slipped out.
"Sir Valerius, when do you think human body heat drops?"
"When your heart's pierced by a metal orb?"
"...Not that scary example."
Convection, conduction, radiation...
Something like that.
I pulled a gold ingot from my subspace pouch.
"Spread this on the walls, and the tent'll stay warm."
"A gold bar...?"
"Yep."
To block radiative heat loss.
Gold's one of the most malleable metals, too—easy to hammer thin.
Cost was the only issue, but House Winterheart always handled that faithfully.
σ = F/A
σ = Eε
I calculated the elastic limit before gold's FCC lattice deformed, and the resulting stress.
F = ma
Q = -kA(dT/dx)
Then applied force and heat to roll the ingot paper-thin, plating the tent's interior walls meticulously.
Valerius watched, fascinated.
"Always impressive. Magic's so fast and precise."
"..."
"Ah, now I get it. You're applying the principles from Principia to every moment."
Once done, the tent gleamed with smooth gold leaf.
Our reflections mirrored on the surface.
Valerius muttered,
"...Feels like we're in the emperor's coffin."
"Warm the air a bit, and it won't cool easily."
PV = nRT
I heated the tent's air to a cozy temperature.
"Definitely holds heat better, but long-term?"
Heh heh heh.
I just smiled.
No need for more excuses.
The North's chill air versus gold foil—the results would speak for themselves.
The next morning.
I asked Valerius,
"Sleep well last night?"
"...Haven't camped without temperature spells in ages. Slept deep thanks to you."
Valerius lit a mana crystal lamp.
Click.
The tent flashed gold once more.
His lips twitched upward.
"Feels like a waste of gold... but the performance is unreal. Still holding yesterday's warmth."
Of course.
I told him,
"Looks brute force, but this is irreplaceable tech."
Works even in space extremes. That says it all.
"Guess I'll carry gold bars on my travels from now on."
"Absolutely."
Travel essential.
After that, I joined the magic search squad tracking the "Lantern Guide."
Just me, solo.
Gwendolyn had another commander meeting, and Valerius got assigned elsewhere.
Seemed like they scattered us newbies to enforce discipline.
I entered the assigned squad's barracks.
The stench of sweat-soaked gear hit immediately.
...All barracks like this?
The guys inside had a wild edge.
'Whoa. Muscles.'
If wind mages were jacked bodybuilders, these were UFC fighters.
Compact, battle-honed muscle.
They huddled in one corner, reading something.
"I get Isaac's impressive, but he's no archmage level! Look, his last starfall prediction was off by minutes."
"Idiot! Longitudes differ. Timing won't match."
"Oh... Yeah."
...It was Principia.
Even here.
Pride swells.
Moments later, the Field Mages turned to me.
"What? Newbie?"
"Another scrawny one. Can't they send these types elsewhere?"
"Hey, newbie? Name."
Ah... Hate using my real one.
Felt Valerius's pain a hundredfold.
But no screwing up now.
I said,
"Howard Wallowitz, Magic Tower grad student."
"Magic Tower? And you volunteered for Field Mage duty?"
They eyed me like some exotic beast.
"You nuts?"
"What the!"
"Gonna brag to the next squad. Got a lunatic."
Then Sara from the corner chimed in.
"Not a newbie. Consultant tagging along till mission's done."
A Field Mage replied,
"Consultant? For what?"
"'Lantern Guide' case."
"..."
At that, their eyes shifted.
Curiosity vanished.
"..."
"..."
The wary stares were heavy.
Parachute. Outsider.
That vibe.
'...Fair enough. It is what it is.'
Sara approached, arms crossed.
"Fancy Magic Tower hotshot won't just spectate while we fight, right?"
"..."
"I'll watch."
Prove it with skill if you want respect?
Fine.
I'll give it my all.
Sara stared blankly at the scene before her.
Every squad member was the same.
"..."
"..."
BOOM!
The Giant Ice Worm's massive body crashed down.
Whoosh!
Its corpse hit the snow, kicking up a blizzard of powder.
In the hazy white fog, "Howard" muttered,
"Permafrost frozen solid... How the hell did it burrow around underground?"
"..."
Sara didn't register his words.
Her focus was locked on the worm's corpse.
Dozens of holes riddled its body, purple blood spurting from each.
Hot blood met frigid air, steaming faintly.
What spell did that? No clue.
No incantation.
No gestures or catalysts.
By the time she snapped to, the Ice Worm was dead.
'He took it down... solo...?'
Soloing a Giant Ice Worm.
Not even PhD-level Field Mages attempted that.
Sara looked at Howard.
He stood stock-still, eyes squeezed shut.
"Everyone okay? No injuries?"
Sara answered,
"Just open your eyes and..."
"That corpse... Looks like it'd make me hurl. Gonna keep 'em closed a bit."
"..."
Sara glanced around.
The area was littered with worm chunks.
"..."
"..."
Sara gave up trying to understand Howard.