Shopping
Unlike novels and manga where you could dig up a book like Introduction to Magic in some dusty city bookshop, there was simply no such thing as a book about magic to be found anywhere in the world.
Not even the wealthy noble Harrington had been able to get his hands on one — that should give you some idea of just how rare they were.
At first I assumed it was the work of the organization known as the Magic Tower, hoarding knowledge to keep it all to themselves. But the real reason turned out to be something none of us had expected.
"You really can't hear it?"
"No. It just sounds like mumbling to me."
Astonishingly, Lena couldn't perceive Noah's incantations at all.
No matter how close she got, she said, it sounded faint and muffled, as if something were interfering — a language she simply couldn't comprehend.
Even when Noah wrote the words out for her, Lena never managed to reproduce the true form of Latin — or as it was known here, the Ancient Language.
Asked to draw exactly what she saw, she produced nothing but meaningless scribbles, line overlapping upon line.
"Come to think of it, the Bishop said something strange. Something about a Curse of Babel..."
"Huh? Isn't it the Blessing of Babel?"
"That's what I thought too. Could there be some other hidden history we don't know about?"
The strange phenomenon by which every language and script was automatically translated. People had long been aware of it, of course.
They had even inherited a few legends of Old Humanity, going so far as to slap the grandiose name of Babel on the thing and call it a blessing.
And yet that blessing didn't apply to Latin?
No — it went beyond not applying. It was as if a filter had been deliberately thrown over the language, actively obstructing it.
"A curse... Maybe the true purpose of the Blessing of Babel was to keep people from ever recognizing Latin in the first place?"
"Latin itself isn't what matters. If magic operates through Latin, then the whole point must be to wall magic off from the vast majority of people."
"Is magic really that important an element?"
The Bishop's magic had certainly been threatening, but for a mage who'd trained for eighty years to produce only that level of offensive power seemed off, talent or no talent. Was the Bishop right — was magic just poorly suited for combat?
But Noah shook her head.
"I don't think so. We've only scratched the surface, but I believe magic has enormous potential."
"Oh?"
"Watch this. Lux esto."
Noah recited the simple incantation — let there be light.
It was the same spell as before, but the result was a little different this time.
Hmmmm — hmmmm —
Unlike the earlier lump of light, which had flickered a few times and died out, this one drifted in the air, steadily radiating a soft glow.
Noah continued.
"Even with an identical incantation, the magic changes depending on what intent I pour into it."
"So the blueprint of the spell changes?"
"Yes. And if I add a command... saltate."
The ball of light began swaying and drifting this way and that, as if it were dancing. To anyone who didn't know better, it would look like a firefly had wandered indoors.
"Magic is a lot like programming. Latin functions as a kind of command syntax, and the results of those commands are projected into reality."
"Unni... prog-ramming? I don't really get it, but... you're saying you can cast magic just by giving commands?"
"No. It refuses absurd commands. There seem to be a fixed set of valid instructions."
"Fascinating. So magic was a technology the Old Humanity created?"
If Noah was right, magic wasn't some fantastical power at all — it was closer to a science.
Hmm... but then why had the Bishop's magic been so pathetic? Finding the commands didn't seem that hard. There was an entire organization dedicated to the Magic Tower, after all.
Noah answered my unspoken question.
"For one thing, every additional command makes the spell's blueprint exponentially more complex. I suspect shaping mana along that blueprint is simply beyond human capability."
"Ah, right. You said it wasn't a problem you could just solve with incantations."
"There could be other reasons as well. Other mages don't have blueprints surface automatically in their minds the way mine do, so they may only memorize a handful of spells. And they might only have learned limited portions of Latin."
Fair enough — Noah, who could cast magic without even receiving Baptism, was the strange case here.
Part of me wanted nothing more than to march straight to the Magic Tower and interrogate them about this bizarre phenomenon. But knowing my luck, I'd be dragged off to be dissected before I could blink, so for now, I'd keep my mouth shut.
Besides, I had a pretty good suspicion already.
"It's probably thanks to that unidentified power core Dr. Ilena gave you when you escaped the research lab."
"That's my thought as well. I suspect it functions as a kind of server. That would be where the blueprints for magic are distributed from. If anything gives me pause, that's it."
"Ser...ver?"
"If that's true, then the Magic Tower may possess something similar to your power core. Could the Baptism they administer be the process of connecting to that server?"
"Possibly. And if you absorbed another server, your capabilities might grow even further."
We exchanged a look and nodded meaningfully at each other. Lena just floated a sea of question marks at words she'd never heard before.
Anyway, once the discussion seemed more or less settled, Lena thrust her hand in the air and shouted.
"Question!"
"What is it?"
"Unni, are you gonna be playing the mage role now?"
"No. As you can see from the bow I bought, it's still too early for me to use magic seriously in combat."
The problem was that magic devoured far too much mana. According to Noah's guess, the more strongly you warped reality, the more it cost.
"So for the time being, I'll be using it strictly in a supporting role."
"Gotcha."
"Enough with the complicated talk~ Time to enjoy ourselves."
Whish —
I drew the curtains at the window all the way open. Brilliant sunlight poured in and made me squint.
Lena screwed her eyes up tight and grumbled.
"Enjoy ourselves? Doing what?"
"What else? The money's all come in, so it's time to get you properly geared up."
"Oh!"
"Noah's got her weapon already, so let's go shopping for mine and yours."
I pulled out my guild card — which had turned a deep, rich blue upon my promotion to Rank 6 — and gave it a flourish.
It held a whole thousand gold coins.
How did we end up with so much money? Harrington had handed over nearly six hundred of it under the guise of "sponsorship"!
And he'd insisted I didn't even need to pay it back. All I could do was marvel at that staggering wealth.
"Buy an artifact! Might as well make it a shield while you're at it!"
"Ah... that's a bit of a problem."
"Why?"
"Because they're insanely expensive."
It might sound like I was whining with a fortune in gold in my pocket, but unlike a cursed trinket like the Glacier Bracelet, genuine artifacts — that is, what people called combat artifacts — cost an absolutely obscene amount.
And it made sense. Who wouldn't covet a weapon with capabilities magic couldn't replicate?
Demand was astronomically high.
Supply, on the other hand...
"Utterly dismal."
Artifacts dropped at random, and the odds of one taking the form of armor, a weapon, or a shield were slim to begin with. Of those few, an even smaller number had decent performance. And whatever combat artifacts survived that ruthless filtering were snapped up wholesale by nobles and high-ranked adventurers.
Insatiable demand. Rock-bottom supply.
Prices rocketing into the stratosphere was only natural.
"Specifically, how much for a shield?"
"I asked around, discreetly, at the trading house that handles artifacts earlier. The cheapest one they had was six platinum coins."
"Yeek!"
One platinum coin equaled a hundred gold.
Unlike the exchange rate between gold and silver, which fluctuated with the market, platinum coins were a kind of credit currency created specifically for high-value transactions, so the ratio held rock-steady at exactly one hundred to one.
In other words, a single artifact-grade shield cost six hundred gold coins.
"...I'll just buy a normal shield."
"Heh heh. Even the one we're about to look at is absurdly high-end. Come on, let's go."
"Yes sir!"
In a clichéd fantasy novel, we'd have found a legendary weapon in some crumbling smithy tucked away in a corner of the slums. Reality was different.
Skilled artisans had no reason to rot away in some filthy hovel — not when they needed to secure expensive materials, if nothing else.
And so we headed for one of the most famous and reputable weapon shops in all of Bolston. Which, naturally, also meant it was obscenely expensive.
"This one looks nice?"
After a long while of wandering between the neatly displayed weapons and armor, I picked up a rectangular silver shield.
Size-wise, it looked like it would cover Lena's entire front. Weight-wise... well, I could manage to hold it, more or less.
I flagged down a staff member circulating nearby. Well trained, apparently — they approached me with impeccable courtesy.
"Is this shield any good?"
"Ah! You have an excellent eye, sir. That is a shield forged from Lunite."
"Lunite? Something to do with the moon?"
"Yes, yes! It's a metal mined from places where lunar mana has condensed over long ages. A very precious material."
The clerk glanced at the deep blue guild card I'd casually pulled out, then rubbed their palms together and helpfully rattled off the details.
"On its own it's hard enough to withstand ordinary sword aura, it resists corrupted and evil things, its mana conductivity is superb and... for reasons no one quite understands, it has the peculiar property of growing even stronger when wielded by a pure maiden. Was there anyone in particular who'd be using...?"
"This girl will be using it."
"Awakened or not, given her build, wouldn't it be far too heavy for her?"
"Lena, give it a try. It's pretty heavy, so be careful."
"Okay."
Heave —
Lena carefully took the shield from me and strapped it on. It was apparently heavier than she'd expected — her eyes narrowed into sharp slits — but she somehow managed to lift it with both arms.
And because Lena was, well, a maiden... the shield actually did seem to gleam a little brighter.
The clerk watched Lena heft the shield — nearly as big as she was — as she shifted this way and that, finding her stance, and exclaimed in genuine astonishment.
"Remarkable! That's a weight most grown men couldn't manage..."
"Well? Think you can carry it around?"
"It's heavy, but it's not bad. If I'm holding the front line anyway, I need the heft. Though I don't think I'll be able to use it as a weapon..."
"That's fine. Just defending is more than enough."
"Front line...?"
The clerk's face went blank at the notion of a child like this standing at the very front of a party.
They'd better not be thinking I'm a child abuser.
I moved to cut things off before the clerk's imagination ran any further.
"Does it have any other functions?"
"Ah... yes. What I described earlier was merely the properties of the Lunite itself. This shield also carries enchantments designed by the Magic Tower — shape memory and shock mitigation. Both run semi-permanently as long as they're charged with magic stones."
"What does each one do?"
"The shape memory enchantment can restore the shield to its original state within five hours, so long as no part of it is completely destroyed. The shock mitigation offsets twenty percent of any impact it takes. It comes with the Tower's certificate of authenticity, as well."
I examined the warranty the clerk handed over. It listed the specs of the enchantments described earlier, along with a statement guaranteeing the shield would perform exactly as the catalog promised.
No after-sales service, though, apparently...
"Looks pretty good. What does everyone think?"
"I like it."
"Better than the others. The enchantments are reasonable, and given her size and build, it's a perfect fit for Lena. She'll benefit from Lunite's supplementary reinforcement effect as well."
Everyone was in favor. It wasn't an impulse buy — we'd spent a solid hour browsing — so it should be fine.
"We'll take this shield. How much?"
"One platinum coin."
"Whoa — ow."
Tens of times the price of her old shield. Lena let out a yelp somewhere between admiration and horror.
Even I flinched for a second at the jaw-dropping price, but remembering the balance sitting on my card, I suppressed the tremor with effort. Given the performance, the number did make a certain grim sense.
"...Let's set the shield aside for now and look at other things. By the way, how much more expensive do armor and swords get compared to shields, generally speaking?"
"Swords of comparable quality are relatively cheap. But armor — as I'm sure you know — uses a great deal of metal, and there are far more buyers, so it falls on the considerably pricier end."
Ugh.
I still needed to buy all sorts of miscellaneous supplies for the dungeon request. Would what I had be enough?
One wrong move and I'd be flat broke.