Apple Pie
Isaac returned to Black Goose Village just before the sun dipped fully below the horizon. His right arm had been injured in the fight with the winter spider queen, making it impossible to climb the rope ladder in the vertical shaft. After wandering through other passages, he finally found an alternate exit. He desperately wanted to sit, lie down, and sleep right then and there—but he pushed aside the crashing wave of fatigue. If night fell completely, who knew what might happen. Thanks to his hurried pace, he made it to the village just before dark.
In front of the back path connecting to the abandoned mine, a familiar silhouette appeared. Her face was shrouded in shadow, but Isaac could tell she was anxious. She paced restlessly, unable to stay still for even a moment. Soon, she spotted Isaac staggering toward her.
“Young master!”
“...Hans?”
Seeing the man's face as he rushed over, Isaac knew his guess had been right. Tension drained from him. An irresistible drowsiness flooded in.
“...What do we do? I snuck out without telling the head steward.”
“You told him you went outside the manor?”
“No way! The master would lose it if he knew. What am I supposed to say...”
“Good call.”
Eventually, the murmur of Hans and the nanny's voices roused Isaac. He cracked his eyes open. He was in the nanny's house. The familiar place eased his mind, but his eyelids and body still felt impossibly heavy.
“But you really don't know? He went all the way to the abandoned mine?”
“No clue. Jaeger guided him that far, but then he went hunting himself and lost track. That guy's only got eyes for himself!”
“You didn't tell them he was the young master when you introduced him.”
“I said he was an apprentice from the magic tower there to observe! But still, letting a kid go into the mine? Isn't that too careless?”
Hut. Dinner table. Hans and the nanny. Warm hearth.
Another one of those dreams?
It matched the nightmare he had every time. Outside, a blizzard raged, and the people Isaac had killed entered the hut one by one. Then came the merry feast.
“...”
Isaac glanced out the window without thinking. Pitch black night. No blizzard. No feast prepared. It wasn't a dream.
“...Just like the young master said, Hinder's completely better. Still a slight fever, but no more coughing.”
“That's our young master. He's gotten sensitive since the explosion, sure, but that kind heart of his isn't going anywhere.”
Hans spoke with utter conviction, his tone full of trust in Isaac. A warmth filled one corner of Isaac's heart—even as a chill gripped the other. Gratitude for Hans, who still thought well of him. And fear that he might lose Hans or the nanny again if things continued like this.
“Hans.”
Isaac sat up. His head throbbed, and his right arm ached.
“Whoa, young master! You're awake? Lie back down.”
Hans hurried over to help him up.
“How long was I out?”
“About half a day. You okay? Anywhere hurt?”
“I'm fine. Manageable.”
“Manageable? Why'd you go to such a dangerous place alone? You didn't actually go into the mine, did you?”
The nanny unleashed a barrage of questions, as if she'd been waiting.
“...I was foraging for herbs nearby and took a tumble.”
Isaac made up a vague excuse. Who would believe a twelve-year-old kid with a unique constitution that made even living a struggle had taken down winter spiders? It might just lead to worries that he'd hurt his head.
“How's Hinder?”
“Much better, thanks to you. The other village kids too.”
“Good.”
Isaac approached the bed by the hearth. The blue spots were gone from Hinder's face. His breathing was steady. No fever when Isaac touched his forehead.
“How'd you know about those herbs and find them? Even the doctor's the master sent didn't.”
“...Just something I read in a book by chance. The symptoms looked like a unique pneumonia, and regular treatments don't work for that.”
Isaac considered revealing it was mana poisoning but held back. If word got out, scholars or mages would come investigating, followed by a massive search for mana beasts nearby. Finding the winter spider corpses in the mine would be a headache.
“As expected of the young master!”
Hans exclaimed in admiration.
“Just luck. It was from some random book I happened to see.”
“So Hinder and the village kids are okay now?”
“Yeah. If they make it through today, good food and rest will do the rest.”
“Thank you, thank you, young master. How can we ever repay you...”
The nanny's eyes welled up. The strain must have been immense; Isaac's confident words unleashed a flood of pent-up sorrow.
“I thought if I lost him too, I might as well die...”
“Sister.”
Hans placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Forgive her, young master. Her husband was killed by bandits while guarding Bernsi. And her other children before...”
“I know.”
Isaac nodded at Hans's explanation. He'd heard it from the servants after the nanny's death in his previous life. Knowing in advance was better, and it wasn't too late yet.
“Keep Hinder resting for the next three days. Massage his limbs now and then, boil water and keep it warm for him to drink. Maintain this room temperature, keep the hearth going. And tell the other villagers the same.”
“...Yes.”
The nanny wiped her tears and nodded.
“Hans, let's go.”
“Already? It's snowing out there. Rest more.”
“If they find out I left the manor, it won't end well for you. Worst case, you'll get the whip.”
“Ugh.”
Hans paled.
“Oh, young master. If you're leaving, take whatever you need from those.”
“Huh?”
“Gifts from the villagers. They said to give them to the magic tower apprentice with their thanks.”
The nanny pointed to several baskets filled with fruits, berries, fish, and the like. The magic tower apprentice was Isaac's fabricated identity. If word got out he was the lord's son, it would invite complications—rumors about the explosion, questions about his treatment, and more.
“Apples too.”
A faint smile crossed Isaac's face as he inspected the baskets.
“Nanny, take another week off.”
“Pardon?”
“Can't work easy without confirming Hinder's fully recovered, right? You need rest too, and play with him once he's better.”
“Is that okay...? The head steward won't stand for it.”
“Who said rest? Make this into jam.”
Crunch.
Isaac bit into a red apple from the basket. Apples grown in cold, dry climates had less acidity and more sweetness. Evaporated moisture concentrated the sugars, and cold slowed the enzymes that produced sourness.
“Apple jam?”
“Yeah. On bread days, serve it on a tray with the wheat loaves.”
A smile bloomed on the nanny's face, her eyes still red-rimmed.
“How about apple pie instead?”
“Sounds good.”
Isaac nodded in satisfaction.
On the way back, snow fell as Hans had said. The wind wasn't fierce, but the biting cold air remained. Isaac's condition wasn't great. He hadn't fully recovered from the mine. How strong could a twelve-year-old untrained body be? With the relief of success came pain flaring everywhere—especially his ankle. It was fine for the first few steps, but after an hour, it throbbed with heat and pain on every stride.
“Your foot bothering you?”
“It's fine.”
“You're limping. Let me carry you.”
“I said it's fine.”
Isaac spoke coldly to deter him, but Hans showed no sign of backing down.
“Get on.”
Hans crouched and offered his back.
“Ignoring me now?”
“Stop being stubborn. It's not for you—it's for me. We need to get back before the head steward notices, which means before dawn. At this rate, we won't make it till noon.”
“...”
“Come on. Save me here.”
His coaxing tone treated Isaac like a child. Isaac's lip twitched.
Right, this is the kind of guy he was. That's why I liked him so much.
Isaac wanted distance from Hans, but he was right. Reluctantly, he let Hans piggyback him. Contrary to expectations of discomfort, it was so comfortable that the drowsiness he'd fought off returned.
Night at Goethe Manor was calm and settled. Servants had returned to their quarters nearby, valets to the annex or off duty. Only sentries stood watch at the main entrances, but Hans knew a side path. They slipped into Isaac's room undetected.
“I'll fetch bathwater and fresh clothes.”
“Yeah.”
Hans had carried Isaac through snowy paths for hours. He must be exhausted, yet he tended to Isaac first upon return. Isaac sat at his desk, reviewing the day's events. Just one day, but so much had happened. He even doubted if he'd truly exterminated the winter spiders and saved the village kids. Back in his room, it all felt like a dream.
“Hoo.”
He'd dozed on Hans's back the whole way, yet still felt sleepy. Lying down might knock him out for hours.
Stamina first, then.
From the fight with the winter spider queen, Isaac noted his shortcomings. Mana wasn't the issue—mental stamina, physical endurance, and mana handling skills were lacking. Above all, his spirit and body lagged far behind his mana reserves.
Contrary to popular belief, stamina was crucial for mages. Spirit and stamina were inseparable; without stamina, enduring grueling research and training was impossible.
Running it is.
Knock knock.
As he mapped his path forward, a knock sounded.
“Come in.”
He expected Hans, but it was Schrader, the head steward.
“Saw your light on late. Not sleeping?”
“Uh? Oh. Uh, couldn't sleep.”
Schrader stared impassively through his monocle.
“Where have you been?”
Isaac's drowsiness vanished instantly. If word spread he'd gone to Black Goose Village, headaches would follow. A chill ran down his spine.
“Just stuffy. Took a stroll near the garden.”
He answered as naturally as possible.
“Avoid going outside at night. Given the count's position, someone might target you.”
“...Got it.”
Schrader mercifully showed no further suspicion. But Isaac couldn't relax. Abruptly, Schrader brushed aside Isaac's bangs.
“Scratched your forehead? You're hurt. Clothes are filthy and stained too.”
“Yeah, tripped over a rock in the dark. Rolled a bit.”
“I see. Be careful.”
“Yeah.”
“I know it's troubling, but sleep at night. You're at an age to grow.”
“Got it. Night.”
Isaac glanced at the door. Hans peeked through the crack and vanished hastily, worry etched on his face.
“Good night, then.”
“You too, Schrader.”
The steward flung the door wide. As Isaac sighed in relief—
“Next time you go out, at least tell someone your destination.”
Schrader's voice was utterly dry.
“...You knew?”
“Hans told me.”
He grilled Hans.
Isaac thought. Schrader looked prepared for anything. Beyond his clockwork routine, he wore a thick gambison instead of valet attire, a wand with a mana stone at his belt.
“Heard you treated the Black Goose kids' pneumonia. Knowing advisors won't stay quiet if it goes public, we'll let this slide once. Be more discreet next time. Or consult me if you can't.”
Schrader spoke in his usual curt tone. Rigid old man. Isaac recalled Yonas mentioning near his death: loyal from the previous lord to the end, even as Goethe fell, until his own demise.
Isaac wasn't close to Schrader, who always kept proper distance. But now he understood. A subtly caring old man.
Isaac nodded, thinking so.
“Got it. Thanks, Schrader.”
“Rest.”
Schrader left with the same measured stride.
A week passed.
“Huff, huff.”
Isaac ran laps in the garden. Stamina was his top priority now. Even tower-bound mages didn't skip running. For Isaac, planning countless battles ahead, it was non-negotiable.
“Young master!”
Suddenly, someone called. Isaac stopped and turned. Hinder and the nanny. Eye contact made Hinder wave, the nanny bow slightly. They carried a cloth-covered basket wafting sweet apple pie aroma.
He'd thought to keep emotional distance, but perhaps the irresistible scent softened him. For this moment, Isaac smiled broadly.