Skadi Hetaya
"The potatoes are readyyy!"
"Could I get a new fork, please!"
"Three beers for table two!"
"These plates need washing, now!"
Two hours into the soft opening.
In the middle of everyone's private little apocalypse, Jane had reached a state of perfect oneness with the potatoes. She could no longer tell where she ended and they began.
...I can't think straight at all.
She wiped the sweat sliding down her face, stole a breath, and let her eyes travel once across the clamorous hall.
"The beer here is seriously cold! It just goes right down!"
"How many is that?"
"Four!"
"At this rate you're skipping breakfast tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Breakfast? I'm skipping lunch too. I'll be back here for dinner."
Laughter from the students at the nearest table rolled through the room. Remembering the cold magic she had laid down only moments ago, Jane looked toward Blow, sweating bullets in the distance, and nodded.
...The young master was right. Nothing beats it cold.
"I think this beer cask is almost empty!"
At the shout from Linne—already every inch a proper employee—Hans, who had been shouldering every odd job in the place, scrambled for the oak barrel. Jane watched him go and roughly measured the time against how fast the beer was leaving.
It was moving even faster than she'd thought. A chill prickled through her, and she shot to her feet.
"Hans, didn't you say a new shipment of beer came in?"
"Beer? It did. There wasn't any room in the kitchen, so I left it out by the back door. Why?"
"It's disappearing way too fast! At this rate the second cask will be gone in no time."
"Ah, right. Should I bring the rest inside, then?"
Jane shook her head.
"Mm, no. From the third oak cask on, the cold magic hasn't been applied."
"Oh. Then that won't work."
She had no choice but to agree. If they served it as it was, there would be a clear gap between the temperature of the beer going out now and the beer that followed. This wasn't a matter of giving something and snatching it back—but cold beer one moment and lukewarm beer the next? She might have been a complete amateur when it came to beer, but even she knew that wasn't right.
...We'll have to chill it fast. My magic won't be enough.
As the thought formed, a flash of violet caught her eye between the tables: Hervena, darting busily through the crowd.
"Whoa, it's Senior Hervena!"
"Senior!! You're so pretty!"
"Then stop chugging."
"Don't tease us!! Two more over here."
"I wasn't teasing."
Hervena's face was perfectly serious, but her oblivious juniors kept crying for beer like chicks begging their mother bird.
Honestly. What even is this.
Grumbling inwardly, she picked up the glasses they thrust at her—and found Jane standing there, utterly at a loss.
"What?"
"Hervena, I have a favor..."
"What kind?"
"I think I need you to cast a spell."
Jane avoided her eyes, her voice awkward. Hervena let out a short laugh and sent the four empty glasses in her hands floating straight into the air.
"Like this?"
"Whoa!!"
Applause and cheers burst from the tables the instant they saw it. Jane waved her hands.
"No. Not that. Something else."
"Then what is it?"
"Just come with me for a second."
Hervena set the glasses down in front of Hans and followed her outside.
Behind the inn, where the sun had already gone down, the sacks of potatoes Jane had brought earlier were stacked in neat rows, and beside them stood two oak casks side by side.
"You see these casks?"
"Yeah."
"Put some cold magic on them. Not so cold the beer freezes solid—just the right temperature, please."
Hervena glanced at her stiff, awkward tone, let out a faint sigh, and nodded.
"White Flake."
⟨ White Flake ⟩
A violet magic circle unfurled from her fingertips. A small cloud formed above the oak casks, and glittering crystals of snow drifted down onto them.
It's beautiful...
Startled inwardly by the sudden rush of cold, Jane compared it to the magic she herself had cast earlier. The density of the mana, and the way it was used, belonged to another realm entirely. Bitterness settled over her, and she rubbed the back of her neck for no reason at all.
Her magic's grown even more.
Hervena, who had been watching her, spoke in a careful voice.
"...Have you been well?"
"Hm?"
"Sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You probably haven't been..."
The voice shrank as it went, nothing like the Hervena who was always so sure of herself. Looking at her, Jane remembered the girl from before they entered the academy—the one who used to cling and act spoiled.
"...No. I've been fine."
"Yeah? Then I'm glad."
An awkward silence hung between them. Then the inn door flew open, and Melo—cheeks puffed to bursting—delivered a thunderous scolding.
"What are you two doing!"
"Ah, Melo, sorry! Did you use up all the potatoes?"
"I'm saying they're gone right now!! Come set them up, quick!"
Jane hurried that way at once. Hervena followed at a slower pace, and Melo, displeased, stamped her foot and shouted.
"Purple Sis, you hurry too! Green Sis is about to drop dead in there!!"
"...All right."
The boldness pulled a laugh out of Hervena. She glanced once at the sky where darkness had settled, stretched toward the sparsely scattered stars, and stepped back into the inn.
While they were busy fretting over the next cask to go out, Blow was breaking into a cold sweat as he spoke to the customers.
"The hall's just too small. If you come next time, I'll serve you properly."
"We've already waited far too long for that!"
"That's right!"
No matter how earnestly he pleaded, every answer came back the same. They had sunk too much into the cost of waiting. The reaction sent a chill down his spine. He swallowed the sigh rising in his throat and turned his gaze inside.
...We even cleared out all the chairs, and turnover is still this bad?
Then his eyes caught a table buried under empty beer glasses. He dragged a hand roughly down his face.
...They're not leaving because of the beer. I shouldn't have sold it today.
He looked back outside and counted the people still waiting. No matter how he figured it, seating all of them before the eleven o'clock closing he had set was impossible.
"It doesn't look like seats will open up in the hall. The takeout line has thinned a lot, so please come this way."
"I'm sorry, but our magic isn't at that level!"
"If it were, we'd have left ages ago!"
One look at their sullen faces and Blow understood at once. He nodded. Kinesis was a more finicky spell than he had thought. The slightest slip in mana control and everything either dropped to the ground or got crushed flat.
"I'll think of something."
Having said so in a rush, he left the takeout side to Rowbedi and stepped into the hall.
The thoroughly drunk customers were calling enthusiastically for one more round. Among them was a face he found rather welcome.
"Well, look who it iiis! Blow Debliiiique!"
Back in his scoundrel days, the people who spoke to him fell into two types. One was the unpleasant sort, like Redfrin, who would squeeze him any way they could just to manufacture a story. The other couldn't be satisfied unless they were friends with everyone—and right now one of them had his collar in a firm grip: a carouser with wine-red hair.
"...Skadi Hetaya?"
"Oh my! You remember me? Hellooo!"
She beamed and waved her hand about. As always, she wore a white shirt, a black skirt, and stockings, sitting with her legs crossed and grinning loosely from the drink.
"How much beer have you had?"
"A lot! The beer's insanely cold! Feels just like drinking up north!"
"You read exactly what I was going for!"
"I may not be your equal with a drink, but I've got an eye for it, you know! The chill—is that Hervena's work?"
"If you mean the cold magic, Jane cast it."
"Oh my! Jane's here too? I want to see her face!"
Then Skadi burst out with an Umhaha—a laugh as broad and mannish as any man's.
She had just said Blow knew liquor better than she did, but there was a flaw in that claim. In his scoundrel days, she was the only person who had ever beaten him in a drinking contest. The memory turned his stomach, and he frowned before he knew it.
"...How much have you had?"
Skadi proudly held up two fingers.
"Twenty glasses?"
"Correct! Umhaha!"
"Drink in moderation and go home."
"I'll pay double, so don't you dare let the beer run out!"
"Hm! Then I shall attend you with everything I've got!"
"Umhaha! Now that's how you answer!"
Only then did she release his collar.
Leaving her behind, Blow stepped into the kitchen—and a violet magic circle floating above an oak cask caught his eye.
"What's that?"
"What about it? I did it."
Hervena said it with open pride, five glasses of beer hanging in the air as she looked at him. Blow gave her a perfunctory nod, as if to say well done, then quickly turned to Hans beside him.
"Think we'll have enough beer?"
"Yes. We ordered two more casks, but it looks like we'll nearly finish on the third—if the person you were just speaking with rampages a little less."
"Even so, she's had twenty. She'll start slowing down soon. Did you tap the third cask, Hans?"
"Yes. Jane told me at just the right moment."
Beside them, Jane was peeling potatoes and showed no particular reaction, as if it were only natural.
"...I was too busy portioning potatoes out front to notice. Thank you."
"Not at all."
"Why did you have Hervena cast the cold magic?"
"I didn't think mine could chill it quickly enough."
"Excellent judgment. Your time at the Merchant Guild wasn't wasted."
"You flatter me."
Jane answered as if it were nothing, pushing the heaped potatoes toward Melo. The tips of her ears had gone just a little red.
Watching from behind, Hervena pouted, feeling for some reason as if she had lost.
...I'm the one who cast the spell, and that's Upper Tier magic! Wait—did I just think about trying to look good in front of that man?
Appalled at herself, she shook her head hard from side to side with a look of pure disgust. Her young master, meanwhile, was letting out another deep sigh at Jane.
"We've got a problem."
"Again?"
"Yeah. The customers in the hall have no intention of leaving. The line isn't shrinking."
"They can't take it to go, right? I wish we'd stocked some paper."
"I didn't see this coming. And the paper's so thin we'd have to layer it several times—that puts us in the red."
Blow was struck all over again by what an incredible artifact styrofoam really was, the stuff that had once held even tteokbokki—those sticky, sauce-drenched rice cakes—without so much as a wobble. Then Hervena, who had been quietly listening behind him, spoke in a lukewarm tone.
"If they can't use Kinesis, they're third-years and below, aren't they?"
"Yeah. Aside from the drinkers, they all seem to be lower years. What, you going to give them a lecture?"
"The kids are a little slow on the uptake. I'll only need one sheet of paper."
Blow immediately tore a page from a notebook and held it out. Hervena took it and led him outside.
"Hey."
"Whoa, it's Senior Hervena!!"
Slightly startled by the fervor of it, Blow rubbed his chin with a finger and looked at the customers, their eyes sparkling.
"Kinesis isn't working out for you, is it?"
"No..."
"Nooo..."
They all answered in deflated voices. Hervena looked them over, then immediately began floating the potatoes Rowbedi had portioned into the air. Even the taciturn Rowbedi couldn't hold back his admiration at the sight of the roasted potatoes rising all at once, neat and clean.
"The reason this is hard is that lifting several objects at once, with only a very small amount of force, is difficult."
"That's right!"
They answered in unison. She set the potatoes from the plate onto the sheet she had just torn off, then concentrated her mana evenly beneath the paper. The paper rose into the air, properly supporting them.
"If you lift them like this, you only have to focus on a single sheet. Even people like y— no. Even all of you should be able to lift them just fine."
The moment they heard that, every eye went wide, and they started rummaging frantically through their bags.
"S-so all we need is paper!"
"I've got a used-up notebook!"
"You gonna scarf down the ink too?"
"It's fine! It won't kill you!"
One student pulled a notebook from his bag and, generous as could be, started tearing out pages for his friends and then for everyone around them.
...Were these kids always in this rough a state?
While Blow felt a strange distance from the very group he himself had once belonged to, they lunged at Rowbedi—still portioning potatoes—like wolves that hadn't eaten in days.
And then—
Kinesis
Just as Hervena had said, the potatoes rose, and their spirits soared with them.
"Whoa!"
"It's delicious!"
"I'm really glad I waited!"
"Still, it's worth eating at least once!"
With that, the line began to shrink at speed. Just as Blow was wiping the relief from his chest, Hervena approached him with a triumphant look.
"This about do it?"
"As expected of a trusted retainer of the great House Deblique. Perfect magic, Hervena."
"Why would you say it like that?"
"No? Then—as expected, it's you, Hervena!"
That didn't sit well with her at all. She ground her foot into the floor.
"You really do praise only me in the strangest way. Anyway, it's fine now, right?"
"Looks reasonably sorted."
"Then I'll go have a drink with Skadi."
"All right. I suppose I ought to allow that much."
"Thank you."
As Hervena went inside with a thoroughly relaxed expression, customers coming out the other way giggled and held their bills and money out to Blow together.
"We ate well. It was so good."
"But next time, please have some chairs ready. My legs are killing me."
One of them said it while patting her legs, and Blow's thoughts grew a little complicated.
If we'd had chairs, turnover might have stopped entirely—but this could also just be the rush of a soft opening.
Deciding to leave it at that for now, he put on the capitalist smile he had learned in the other world.
"I'll think about it when we open properly."
With that as his last word, he was about to head into the hall when Rowbedi, who had been quietly packing potatoes, spoke in a careful tone.
"Boss, the takeout looks like it's almost wrapped up. Should I move inside?"
Blow looked at the beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, and also took in Linne, still huffing as she rushed around inside.
...Without these two, it would've been a complete mess.
"Your name was Rowbedi, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Finish the people still in line quickly. It'd be better to clear the takeout side away."
"Yes."
"You really worked hard."
"Not at all."
There was a comfort to Rowbedi, as if they had known each other a long time, and for some reason his face was full of a deep sense of fulfillment. Satisfaction settled over Blow as he watched him.
When we open for real, I have to bring them on somehow. Him, and Linne too.
Unaware that Blow was practically drooling over the prospect, Rowbedi Growtok kept diligently packing potatoes for the last of the takeout customers.
Eleven-ten.
Having sent off every table except the one where Skadi and Hervena sat, Blow was settling the day's accounts with a Jane whose soul had already left her body.
"You worked hard."
"Yes... I think I did, a bit."
"What was today's total?"
Jane ran her eyes once down what she had recorded, then spoke.
"Today's total—"