Vol 3 Chapter 15 – Boyhood: Early Summer at Twelve・Part 5

After an utterly exhausting session of measurements, I found myself standing before the solemn elevator installed in a section of the Magic Academy, carrying Eliza—who had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion on my back.

There it was—an unmistakable elevator. A gondola suspended by wires and pulleys to facilitate efficient vertical movement—a fact that never ceases to amaze me about this magical castle; I am far from naive about this world.

Ah, what a splendid elevator. With its blue trimmings, it can be used to “ショトカ” in the labyrinth of a nefarious wizard, and when the sun sets, it would look perfectly at home alongside the imposing majesty of the “Crow’s Nest Kureesu Shants” demon lord’s castle.

Using careful weight shifts to ensure that Eliza wouldn’t slip off—even if I were holding her with one hand—I pressed the button labeled “Elevator for the Lower to Middle-Level Workshop District” on one of the seven machines in the row. It was a bit of a hassle, but far better than accepting Lady Reisen’s invitation to stay over, given the mansion’s proximity.

Well, I did waver a bit at the enticing offer of a bath so vast you could swim in it, but…

A clear bell rang out, and the shutter of a gondola—which hadn’t gone anywhere—glided open, revealing a large door no less impressive than that used for transporting supplies, to welcome me.

The elevator, with its truly enigmatic aura, had no console lined with buttons. Instead, there was only an opening for vocal input.

“Middle-Level Workshop District, Baroness Staal’s Workshop”

And when you speak your destination into that opening, the elevator will head right there. Had someone not explained it to me beforehand, I would have been utterly perplexed by its operation.

“Ah, if you please! Wait!”

Just as the doors were about to close, I was abruptly called out. Echoing through the vast hall of the Magic Academy was the voice of a child, seemingly of my age. I could see a figure running toward me—a person who was neither clearly a boy nor a girl.

Since I had no reason to be spiteful, I signaled a cancellation through the opening, and the shutter that was beginning to close slid open smoothly, allowing the youthful individual to slip into the gondola.

“Hey, sorry, you saved me.”

Him? Her? No, which is it?

The one I presumed to be of my age—whom I’ll refer to as “him” for convenience—wore a black robe typical of an auditing student and clutched a simple short staff. Judging by the bundle of parchment in his free hand, he must have just received something.

The more I looked at him, the more his features confounded me. His lustrous black hair and charming face—which, when he smiled, took on a resolute quality—betrayed no hint of gender. From his appearance, I assumed he was an ordinary human, yet I had never met anyone so androgynous—not even in my past life.

Surely, a genderless angel must be a creature like this.

“You’re an unfamiliar face. Are you an auditing student?”

When his amber eyes crinkled into a smile, he gave off a boyish, cheerful impression, yet his curved lips were as dewy as a girl’s.

“No, I serve as an errand boy to Baroness Staal. My little sister is her disciple.”

“Staal? That’s a name I haven’t heard before… Ah, sorry for holding you back.”

“No, no need to hurry; please go ahead,” I said, and he smiled, remarking that I was a good sort before announcing his destination. Judging by the parchment, it seemed he wasn’t here to receive something but rather to submit an assignment at the professor’s workshop.

“By the way, I never introduced myself. I’m Mika.”

While shaking his outstretched hand in return, I found it impressive that even his name was unisex. In the Triple Empire, Mika was a fairly common name for both men and women.

Inside the elevator—where an uncanny sensation of being jostled in every direction persisted for a while—we exchanged a few brief words. Mika, it seems, was born in the north and had come here as an auditing student on the recommendation of the local magistrate. Furthermore, he was apprenticing under a professor of the “Dawn Faction”—a school devoted to uncovering the secrets and proper uses of magic—in his quest to become a mage.

“I aspire to become a construction mage. The north of the empire is burdened with deep snow, and I want to build impressive infrastructure that can withstand it.”

Listening to him speak so proudly, his smile made it seem as though the weariness from today’s commotion was being restored. Yes, this was exactly what I needed—the refreshing image of a young person from the countryside passionately sharing his dream of becoming a mage.

I’m certainly not a life-worshipping, loli–shota fanatic undead wraith, nor one of those damned, degenerate, long-lived Methuselahs.

“Well, well, we’ve finally arrived. Until next time, then.”

The delightful moment passed in an instant. With the sound of the bell, the shutter opened to reveal not a hallway, but a door. He squeezed through, and just as quickly, he was gone.

He was such a pleasant kid… truly refreshing. Lately, I’d been surrounded by oddballs and had drifted away from straightforward individuals, so it felt as though my spirits had been lifted just a little.

And that was exactly why I dreaded having to meet the Master again.

“Oh, thank you for your efforts.”

The workshop of Agrippina-san de Staal, connected by the magical elevator, had an appearance that made it seem utterly implausible that it was built underground. Who would have imagined a place evoking a birdcage and a greenhouse with a lawn bathed in warm spring light?

The Magic Academy is a castle of splendid design, but unfortunately its capacity is no more than that of a normal castle. Would anyone really wish to cram a mage’s workshop—liable to blow up at any moment—into it? And all this while the Imperial Castle towers just under a kilometer away.

If one explosion were to trigger a chain reaction, scattering pieces like a falling block puzzle, it would be an immensely entertaining sight. A country physically bursting apart would surely be a spectacle everyone around the world would want to see.

As a countermeasure, the sharp minds at the Magic Academy chose to locate the workshop deep underground. They carved out several rooms within the solid rock—nearly achieving lost technology—and, though I try not to notice someone using it for merely short trips to their bed, the only entry and exit was an elevator imbued with spatial-translocation magic.

This way, even if someone were to mess up, the Imperial Capital would remain secure.

Well, if the elevator were to be blown up in an accident, who on earth would salvage it? That fatal question continues to pique my interest, and perhaps it is the fate of TRPG fans to entertain such terrorist-like ideas.

Prompted by Agrippina-san, who was dozing contentedly in the central hammock, I immediately laid Eliza down on the nearby couch. Outside, the all-glass walls inexplicably projected a peaceful garden—this person really does love to waste money.

“So, what kind of outfit are you having tailored?”

“…I’d rather you not ask.”

Honestly, it was a parade of clothes that would never have suited me in my past life. At the very least, to my eyes they looked nothing more than some terribly misguided cosplay. They, however, were giggling with delight.

After shelling out the express fee, it would take about seven days to complete… and those seven days were bound to be the most stomach-churning in the world.

“Well, it’s not a bad deal, so do your best. I’m going to enjoy my first workshop in 21 years… Ah… feels so good… A top-notch bed is great, but a hammock is just exquisite, isn’t it…”

In a room that resembled more a deluxe napping room than a workshop, the Master grinned lazily while chatting away.

It certainly wasn’t a loss—truly, it wasn’t. It’s just that the cost is way too high.

However, the Master had a bargaining chip up his sleeve to keep me in line. It was, arguably, the best inducement to endure that trial-like time.

After all, if you ask, he said he’d pick out books from the deepest shelf of the forbidden library in his name.

Thanks to Lady Reisen, I could freely acquire basic magical knowledge, and from Agrippina-san I received truly advanced magical insights.

In other words, it was as if I had completed the elemental supplement for TRPG magic.

One might wonder if that isn’t problematic institutionally, but in this country—where the monarchy reigns and she is a powerful researcher with a strong hand—she probably had the confidence to force through such an outrageous proposal.

It was most likely because she was scheming to use me for something today; though I felt a slight anxiety, I had no choice. After all, since ancient times the sacred Lulub and supplements have been notoriously expensive—costing well over 3000 As.

Now, at last, the preparations for my power play are complete. This is the long-awaited time to unleash my true potential.

Ever since the days when, thanks to constant brawls, I accumulated an unprecedented amount of experience points—and expecting that the Magic Academy would make magical knowledge more accessible—I had been planning and saving up. After all, if I’m going to get serious as a data manch, I have to stock up on supplements.

It’s fun to build a strong character with just the basic Lulub. However, since the available supplements are printed with the assumption that they’ll be used, they are, within the rules, completely legal. And isn’t a true data manch someone who pushes their use to the limit?

Experience points are finite, and so is my proficiency. Given that, it’s only natural to fully commit after surveying the supplements that allow for a wider distribution. Sure, you might say I’m over-snacking, but that’s a necessary expense.

In any case, with this, I’ve reached a milestone—a major turning point as a data manch, one where I can refine my build as a powerful adventurer.

All that remains is to pore over the vast amount of data, to discover the most efficient, cost-effective, and minimal setups that yield maximum efficiency with minimal mishaps.

Ah, I was truly looking forward to it.

“You’re grinning in a way that’s just creepy… Well, whatever, here you go.”

While I was grinning in excitement, heartless insults were flung my way, but they didn’t dampen my mood enough to matter. For a player excited about carrying new supplements and boosting their character, a bit of snark is almost inconsequential.

I accepted what was tossed along with the insults. It was a key.

“What’s this?”

“I made some arrangements and got you a place in downtown.”

“Huh? A place? Why?”

“This place is designed for researchers—so there’s my private space and workshop with a warehouse… and only one spare room for apprentices. The rules state that errand boys and servants can only be accommodated once you become a professor…and besides, it’s too cramped.”

After all that rule-bending, now…? Leaving me dumbfounded, she just tossed out a dismissive “Handle your morning routine there” as a butterfly landed on the key.

It wasn’t just any butterfly. It was a pure white butterfly, intricately folded out of a single sheet of paper. Damn, that’s simply amazing—how did they make that?

As if guiding me, the butterfly took off and headed toward the elevator. Its posture seemed to say, “Follow me.” I guess this is what they call a “map.” I like it—just by looking at it, it’s so incredibly complex that it must be ridiculously expensive.

Though I felt a twinge of unease about leaving Eliza behind, I followed the butterfly’s lead to my boarding house.

In this era, at night you basically have nothing but the gentle light of the moon and stars to rely on, and back at the old Königsstuhl Villa, it was dangerous to walk the grounds without a lantern or lamp.

However, the Imperial Capital remains brilliantly lit even after sunset. Thanks to the lights spilling from the prominent houses along the main streets and the evenly spaced, magically glowing streetlamps, it evokes an ambiance that could easily remind one of my past life.

Those streetlamps contained devices worked with magical crystals, and every day requests to attach them to the Magic Academy’s notice board were posted. Priced at about 5 As each, lighting up an entire street apparently brought in a handsome profit—as I had seen a throng of auditing students, all in modest attire, gathering before heading to the clothing store.

There were also vendors operating beneath them. People in the Triple Empire generally have ready-made bread, cheese, and wurst for breakfast and dinner, while enjoying a hearty lunch to prepare for the afternoon. However, there are stalls open even at midnight targeting long-lived species who wish to indulge in three lavish meals a day, species with poor fuel efficiency who need to eat constantly, or species that only become active after dark.

Even now, a couple of ratmen named Stuarts—whose height barely reached my waist—were buying up large quantities of boiled wurst. In the Triple Empire, the common kind infused with herbs was probably pork wurst. Watching an ogre pig demon boil it made me wonder, “Is this really okay?”

“Hey there, youngster! It’s no good going to bed hungry! I’ll give you a special price!!”

I was easily lured by the sales pitch of a pig-demon with a human-like build—healthy in complexion—displaying generous amounts of Western spicy mustard. I mean, when someone well-built is making something, it naturally looks more delicious than usual, right?

“How much is it?”

“One for 10 As, but I’ll give you three for 25 As.”

Wow, typical urban pricing—if you ordered it at the inn’s bar, it’d be half that. But since the price was clearly posted and not a rip-off, I decided to give in to the temptation of boiled wurst.

“Could I have three? And plenty of mustard, please.”

“Ah, youngster, don’t you have a plate? If you don’t, I’ll have to charge you an extra 5 As for the container.”

The wurst boiled perfectly, steaming robustly, and I hesitated for a moment—only to realize I didn’t really need to buy a plate. I had an invisible one that kept everything just right.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh, a mage, huh?”

With a gentle <invisible hand>, he grabbed the sausages and, using his “second pair of hands,” covered them up. Ah, what a waste that magic got me over three months. Seriously, two is simply better than one! And if you find out you can get up to six for the same price…

Exactly—it’s foolish to bulk buy just because it’s cheap and then get sticker shock at the register.

Accompanied by my bizarre companion—a floating sausage—and an origami butterfly, I headed to the Magic District. In this area, cheap boarding houses and lodgings for auditing students lined the streets; because people who couldn’t live in the Magic Academy gathered here, it was called downtown.

In that town, the butterfly led me to a modest little house built in the gap between buildings.

“Luxurious,” I thought as I looked up, when the butterfly, as if done with its job, fluttered off somewhere. Its flight toward the increasingly round black moon, coupled with its white body, was terrifyingly beautiful.

Ah, another new moon. On days when something serious happens, that moon always seems to look down on me. Perhaps it’s karma from my past life.

Well then, though tomorrow also looks like it will be tough, I’ll do my best.

For now, as long as there’s warm wurst, I can manage…

【Tips】The Imperial Capital is, for better or worse, a city used for both politics and diplomacy. Moreover, politics is an indispensable element even among mages.