Vol 3 Chapter 17 – Boyhood: Midsummer at Age Twelve・Part 2

After my morning duties, I drifted through the hall. Lately, it seems people have started to remember my face and name, and I was delighted every time someone greeted me.

In a quiet corner of the scarcely populated hall, I sat on an empty visitor’s chair to kill time. The rush of auditing students arriving for lectures had passed—and there was only one reason to wait here.

From behind the counter, a staff member carrying a bundle of papers approached. Her destination was, indeed, the quest board.

The sight of papers being swiftly pasted up by magic was like an act out of those countless stories I had devoured over and over. I even recall some guys who took the theft skill solely to sneak in among them and grab the quests they coveted. Depending on the GM, an action check might be rolled here to determine the session’s difficulty—and I remember the thrill of riding the highs and lows of the dice.

Those who gathered here to snag work were probably enjoying that same feeling.

After watching the staff member finish pasting the last sheet and leave satisfied with her work, I didn’t immediately head for the quest board.

That’s because there were proper auditing students waiting for new requests to be posted there as well.

My position, however, is rather delicate. I’m the errand boy for a long-lived researcher who’s been out on fieldwork for nearly twenty years, the older brother of his disciple, and one of the favorites the head of our academic faction dotes on—so it’s easy to imagine that I attract some very peculiar side-eye.

In such an environment, one must be careful to maintain harmony and avoid being ostracized. It would be scandalous for an outsider like me to greedily exploit a system originally established to support their livelihood.

Sure, it’s easy for those with power to act recklessly or flaunt their might to temporarily silence dissent—but that sort of behavior is the job of petty antagonistic NPCs. More often than not, such fools end up being exploited by the PCs midway through the scenario or are later slain for venting their frustrations, so I keep my own counsel.

Besides, it would be downright stupid for some snarky kid—like the son of a general store owner—to try to compete with children when, deep down, they’re adults; the right move is simply to watch them from behind and appreciate their efforts.

Well, if someone actually got involved with me, I’d be forced to teach them a lesson in “social studies.”

“Hey, Erich, what a fine morning, huh?”

“But I do welcome this kind of banter.”

“Ah, Mika. Good morning—what a fine morning. How were the lectures?”

I replied casually (even though he told me during our second meeting to drop the overly humble tone), and he naturally sat down next to me, grinning as he said the professor had become quite popular at recent dinner parties.

His every gesture and word was so strikingly handsome that lately I’ve begun to think if this world had a “protagonist,” it’d be him—or perhaps he’s the type to be romanced in a dating sim. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to ask, “So, which gender are you?” and that’s how things have come to pass.

“So, it appears the professor has acquired some ‘insights’ at the dinner party.”

“Ah, he’s probably exploring new horizons right now—drowning in a sea of sheets.”

The term “gaining insights” is nothing more than a courtly euphemism for a professor—who, as a bureaucrat, frequently attends dinner parties or banquets and inevitably ends up passed out from overdrinking. Apparently, getting so drunk as to collapse is unthinkable for a noble of the Triple Empire; they say his brilliant ideas keep his hands too busy to rest… I just love that kind of humor.

“Well then, shall we get going? It looks like things are clearing up.”

“Ah, yes—let’s go, to gather our provisions.”

The two of us, striking our best poses and adopting our most convincing expressions, said our lines and then burst into chuckles as we stood up. I can’t recall who started it, but this playful banter has become our new ritual.

“…Oh, there’s a request for herb gathering. I wonder why they’d go so far as to specify wild specimens.”

“Hmm? I’ve heard that using herbs grown in overly nutrient-rich soil can alter their effects, so that might be it. Anyway, Erich, how about this? It’s a simple errand…”

“Sorry, but as an errand boy I’d prefer to finish it in a day—I’ve got morning and evening duties.”

“Ah, indeed, this one is a bit far. In that case, why don’t we do the herb gathering instead? I was planning to take a herbology class soon anyway.”

I gladly accepted his theatrical proposal—one that echoed the playful pastime we began when we roamed the square listening to heroic ballads by bards. Unlike Heinz, he seemed captivated by the image of a mage who, using magic, built a bridge for a hero crossing a raging river.

“Umm… fennel, wormwood, anise, and honeysuckle…”

“…Do you reckon we’re not making a magic potion but rather a herbal liquor? Should we toss in some cinnamon too?”

“That’s clever, but… no, this delphinium is poisonous. And try marinating it with aconitum and torikabuto—you’d have even a pit worker foaming at the mouth.”

We scanned the list together, checking how much each herb was worth if carefully harvested—including the roots—and mused about the purpose behind the request.

Before long, our feet carried us toward the stables.

The Imperial Capital is a city built on land deemed politically favorable, and outside its walls—aside from a small cultivation zone and a few kilometers of open space—forests spread as far as the eye can see. This measure is meant to thwart enemies from setting up large-scale formations; most of these forests are protected, with cutting prohibited and the trees kept alive.

However, since only felling is forbidden, the mages took advantage by hauling useful herbs from various regions and letting them proliferate. Lacking the ability to build efficient, low-cost herb gardens like we can today, they encouraged the herbs to grow in open spaces, ensuring a steady supply even far from their home turf.

As a result, even now a variety of medicinal herbs thrive in these protected forests. Mika—who once told me about this very forest—explained that the great mages adjusted the environment and cast so many spells that their magic still works today. I remember his passionate tone, which brimmed with his reverence and eagerness to learn about magic.

But the distance is no joke—walking there and back would take ages. That’s why, as Agrippina-san advised, I ride Castor and Polydeuces.

In fact, when I was a child I honed my 《Horsemanship》 skill to 《Expert》 level to handle a halter. Leading my carriage horse demands skill; I could have taken 《Mount Guidance》, but if this skill works just as well, it seemed more useful—so I picked it up.

Moreover, these are large warhorses. If you don’t let them run now and then, they stiffen up and accumulate stress. Not everyone can sit on a chair or lounge in bed all day without getting stressed out.

Today, after fending off two horses that were practically competing to be ridden—and corralling others that, all fired up, kept shouting “Me! Me, me! I’ll do!”—I saddled Castor. Yesterday, as part of my training, I had ridden Polydeuces, so it was his turn now.

“Hey—wait, stop! Will you stop already! It’s you again! Hey! Ah, hold on… Help, Erich!”

While I was checking the fit of the saddle straps, I heard Mika’s scream. It turned out he was tangled up with that one-horned horse that always bites my hair. It wasn’t goring with its horn so much as it was biting his unruly black hair—just like it does mine—and then licking his face, finally shoving its muzzle into his back and neck so forcefully he nearly fell over.

Again, that bastard! I swear, could someone please put a stop to its constant meddling every time we pass by? Isn’t there some sort of 《Equine Communication》 skill one can pick up as a human without dipping into the “faith” category? (Although, admittedly, that thing is classified as a magical beast.)

Though I tried to stop its unbridled assault on my friend, in the end we both ended up battered—needing a round of 《Purge》—before a stable boy came to our rescue. “Thanks, Onee-chan,” I muttered; after all, if I ended up sporting visible scars from a horse, I’d never look the part of an adventurer.

That guy’s facial scar? It’s just from getting tangled up with that weird unicorn. If people made a joke out of it, I’d be fuming.

After we both applied 《Purge》 to each other, we mounted Castor and set off. It’d be fun if Mika could get used to riding on his own someday so we could go on a long ride together.

We picked up lunch along the way on a city street and then briskly walked outside at roughly the speed of a city bike. But since the ride bounced wildly, if you’re not used to it your back and butt take a beating—horses are surprisingly difficult to handle. As proof, the still unaccustomed Mika was desperately clutching his waist.

…I’ll keep it my lifelong secret that I thought, “Something smells really good.”

The outskirts of the Imperial Capital are grasslands, though sometimes they’re meticulously leveled for military exercises. Apparently, specialized bureaucrats known as construction mages regularly overhaul public infrastructure and such. Yes, that’s exactly the sort of place Mika dreams of working in.

While I ran alongside my overtaxed companion—still admiring the work of those senior figures—I noticed Castor kept glancing at me as if begging, “We’re done warming up; now let’s get serious.”

“Mika, are you alright?”

“Ah, yeah! I’m fine—just a bit of a sore waist!”

“That’s why I told you to let your waist absorb the shock properly!”

Ignoring his cry of “Don’t make it sound so simple!” I quickly formulated a “hand” technique to avert any mishaps and then kicked Castor square in the belly.

A neigh echoed across the grassland, and a piercing scream—as if silk were being torn—rang out amidst the thundering clatter of galloping hooves…

In the Imperial Capital, if you have a horse running faster than a normal walk, you’ll be fined at least one libra.

“You sure have a rather forceful side sometimes, don’t you?”

“Uh, well… I’m sorry, okay?”

Contrasting with Castor’s face, which beamed with satisfaction, Mika glowered resentfully at me from atop his horse and hurried ahead as if to escape my grasp. “Hey, don’t try to bite the hand holding the reins; I want to run faster, didn’t you get scolded?” he grumbled.

…Yes, it’s definitely my fault. I’m truly sorry.

There’s something about playing together that really gets our adrenaline going. Much like that time we ended up picking up skills and traits during our hide-and-seek game with a fox and a goose, we naturally revert to being childish—and I can’t help it.

I still remember that thrill of pure, unadulterated fun; it’s just like when I assembled a new party at the table. Explaining my own traits while getting to know the finely tuned PCs of our other party members is such a blast. Thinking about what we might do next with this crew sends my excitement soaring—especially when I’m with someone as pleasant as Mika. He’s the type I never had around before.

After sealing the deal by ceding a piece of cheese from our bento, we began our herb gathering.

For mages, herbs are invaluable. They serve two main purposes.

One is to create magic potions, and the other is to function as a “catalyst.”

Magic potions are, quite literally, nothing more than magic manifested in the form of a drug. It’s a technique where you extract “elements” from herbs, minerals, and even meat or fungi, dissolve them in magical power, purify them, and complete the potion. The advantage is that it doesn’t drain your magical energy instantly, and—perhaps because it’s less jarring than simply casting magic—it has a shelf life of 10 to 20 years.

Furthermore, you can stock up a large quantity while you’re still in good shape and then go all out when it counts. After all, magic potions aren’t limited to merely predictable healing spells.

That said, the labor and material costs aren’t trivial—sometimes it’s as if you’re literally throwing money at the problem—but such is the fate of every alchemist in any game.

As for the second use, the catalyst, it’s an item used to assist in “magic” or “magical arts,” just like the mage old man who gave me a ring used to do. For example, there’s a world of difference between being handed a match to start a fire and being told, “Do your best with a stick!” Moreover, using damp wood versus dry logs changes the burn dramatically.

That’s why mages carry catalysts as a kind of training wheel—to help the world more readily accept their magic. It’s fine if you do it on a whim once, but if a lord or magistrate commissions dozens of these, it becomes a real headache.

Yes, there are some who forcefully cast with an enormous amount of magic—like my employer—but anyway, this time for the magic potion request I carefully dug up the herbs with their roots intact, as if preparing specimens.

I have no idea what they’ll be used for, but one thing’s for sure: if you want to place an order, using the quest board is much cheaper than visiting itinerant merchants or herb dealers.

This time, it’s just ordinary herbs—so it’s on the easier side. Some herbs won’t display their magical properties unless you bring them along with the surrounding soil, while others must be collected with their roots embedded in a circular flask filled with another magic potion or they’ll wither in mere minutes.

Those are extremely valuable—worth a fortune in gold coins—but they’re often in places a kid can’t reach, which is a real pain.

Hmm… Riding Castor and Polydeuces is fun and all, but I really wish I had… 《Spatial Translocation》…

After slogging through until about mid-afternoon—by which time we’d each earned a few silver coins’ worth—I treated myself to a late, stylish lunch. Mika, being such a quick study, immediately memorized the characteristics and quality of the herbs, so as a teacher I wasn’t too challenged. Still, while I might consider his aptitude exemplary, I can’t help thinking that the more high-maintenance ones are just a little cuter… surely it’s Eliza’s influence.

“So, Erich, you were off gathering plums instead of herbs, huh?”

“And you, Mika—you collected enough wood strawberries to fill a boot!”

After thoroughly enjoying our bento, we nibbled on our respective “spoils” as dessert, leaned our backs against a large tree, and savored the sensation of our bodies being freed from the midsummer heat. The refreshing feeling as our sweat evaporated and cooled us is a delight unique to this season. It’s always so satisfying to bask in that feeling after a day of fun.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, delicious indeed.”

When we exchanged glances and replied, we burst into laughter for quite a while. For some reason, these aimless, meandering exchanges are irresistibly delightful.

Suddenly, my 《Presence Detection》 went off. My eyebrows twitched, and my “hand”—ever tucked away along with my fairy knife—reached out, but the slowly approaching presence from above showed no sign of hostility.

No, in fact, that faint presence wasn’t even that of a living creature.

“Oh, how unusual—a letter bird, isn’t it?”

The little creature that swooped in was a letter folded into the shape of a small bird. It flew with motions so real that I instantly recognized it—it was the very same one that had flown over a week ago when I was roped into that first “fashion show.”

Sure enough, the bird landed on my knee, unfolded on its own, and displayed a sheet of paper detailing its message. Marked with Lady Reisen’s seal, it contained an invitation to accompany her to the long-awaited library, along with a second request.

Ah, that’s right. Last time, we ran out of time because Lady Reisen got carried away, and the library trip was postponed. Sensing my discontent, they decided that next time I would pick up my clothes at the dress shop, change, and then head to the Magic Academy.

And this letter was an invitation to do just that tomorrow.

“Those in the Haraosou Faction, huh—they do everything in such a flashy manner.”

“Isn’t it different with the Dawn Faction?”

“At the very least, they’re said to frown upon methods that are overtly obvious…”

I carefully recorded my acknowledgment with a piece of charcoal, and the letter folded itself back into a bird and flew off again.

“Well, I do think it’s pretty stylish. An invitation for dinner like this would make any gentleman or lady’s heart skip a beat, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha ha, then I’m the rare exception—I just can’t bring myself to be interested in it.”

Watching the origami little birds fly off together, a sudden concern bubbled up inside me: I must absolutely not set this handsome friend up with that Lord loli–shota connoisseur…

【Tips】The greatest opposing academic faction to the Haraosou Faction is the Dawn Faction.