Vol 3 Chapter 4 – Boyhood: Late Spring at Age Twelve

It had been a week since we were held up, and ever since, the journey had been surprisingly smooth.

For some reason, Eliza’s usual sulking had vanished, and she began to warm up to Agrippina de Staal—though the cause remains a mystery, it’s likely her teacher did something clever to spark her interest.

Even though saying things like “your family will become distinguished” or “you can become a teacher” hadn’t worked before, I can’t imagine how they finally convinced her—but oh well, it worked out.

A strange chill ran down my back for a moment, but dismissing it as nothing more than the cool air of early spring, I stretched on the coachman’s seat.

For a while now, my usual spot had been at the coachman’s seat of the carriage. The carriage, pulled by two splendid black horses, was the ordinary carriage type—the sort you picture in comics and movies when dignitaries are being transported.

In theory, thanks to automated magic (so convenient that one hardly notices), there was no real need to sit here at all—but I stayed so as not to disturb Eliza’s studies. It seems that whenever I’m beside her, she craves attention and her concentration slips.

However, my first carriage journey turned out to be surprisingly pleasant. Watching the sky as we rolled along the highway was enjoyable, and the occasional patrol passing by looked brave and striking. Above all, I even saw a group that looked like fledgling adventurers.

I thought, “Well, it doesn’t seem as impressive as everyone says.”

My anticipation grew immensely. Someday, I too want to recruit a crew and set off on such a journey—defeating bandits for a tidy sum, delving into ruins, and solving challenges worthy of heroic ballads.

Indeed, there is a certain brilliance in the very essence of the classic path. I resolve to keep striving without giving up.

Over the past week, I’ve been casually taught various spells.

There’s no magic as convenient as the miracle of 《Purification》—if you had divine might, it could instantly cleanse water in a bottle, a river, or even an entire room—but such a spell doesn’t exist in our magic.

Instead, household tasks performed by magic require integrating multiple spell formulas into one unified spell, much like solving a system of simultaneous equations.

Agrippina de Staal explained the nature of magic to me—adding to the lectures missing from the magical household handbook I’d borrowed.

She said that magic can be broadly divided into three categories: 《Transformation》, 《Transition》, and 《Manifestation》.

Transformation involves shifting what already exists—adjusting an existing phenomenon, like intensifying or diminishing the flames of a bonfire, twisting positive kinetic energy into negative, or combining, separating, and altering the forms of substances; it is the category that best embodies magic.

Next, Transition literally means moving things. It can shift an object’s position physically or spatially, and it can also transfer or overwrite kinetic energy, heat, or intrinsic properties. Most spells that produce impressive feats—like barriers or relocation—fall under this category.

Finally, there is Manifestation. Without much ado, it bends the laws of nature to pseudo-create “being” from “nothing,” making it the most advanced form of magic. Though magic twists physical laws, it essentially employs and respects them. Moreover, the world does not easily allow “being” to arise from “nothing”—even if it happens, it is essentially an act of divine craftsmanship.

Thus, Manifestation involves creating matter by materializing magical energy or by altering laws. It appears to simply generate one “being” from another using magical energy—or merely bolster existing “beings” with magic—to cheekily fool the world.

However, interpretations of Manifestation vary wildly among different schools and factions, to the point that if one discussed it rigorously, one might end up writing a book—or even spend two or three lifetimes studying it. When such opinions come from a long-lived being who’s nearly 150 years old, they carry tremendous weight. For now, it’s best to understand it in a childlike way as simply the ability to create things.

Household tasks can roughly be divided into five categories: 《Cooking》, 《Cleaning》, 《Washing》, 《Tidying Up》, and 《Sewing》. In magic, only 《Cleaning》 and 《Washing》 are mainly performed. Cooking with magic tends to yield nonsensical results—if the spell wears off and the form change reverts inside your stomach…—so it remains secondary, and tidying is left to happen on its own. As for sewing, even if you manifest it, it’s currently impossible for the material to persist; it’s used only to operate a loom automatically.

It appears that the magic in this world combines the convenience of a TRPG with the inconveniences of physical limitations.

Well, if a single spell could produce food, balance would be thrown completely off. Nobody would ever buy a portable food set—a week’s worth—again.

Amidst the coexistence of romance and the harsh realities of life, I’ve learned a few spells that might prove useful.

The 《Cleaning》 spell, which falls under the non-combat category of 《Magic Attendant》, is extremely convenient. It repels dirt and gathers it into one spot. As one’s proficiency increases, the area it can cover and the types of dirt it can handle expand—a very handy skill indeed. Even at the 《Basic》 level, it can clean an entire wall of a six-tatami room of common dust, soil, sand, and mud; no mother in the country would want to miss learning it.

Yes, it’s truly marvelous. I really wanted something like this even in my previous life.

However, due to the nature of magic, it’s a bit inconvenient since you have to carefully decide “which dirt to remove”—in other words, determine exactly what is soiled. It seems there’s some kind of failsafe to prevent it from recklessly cleaning everything—wallpaper and even the earthen walls along with it.

Additionally, if you learn 《Dusting》, which, by a similar principle, disassembles the dirt on laundry without wetting it, you’ll be able to handle the basic tasks as an apprentice. Other spells can be learned as needed.

When I looked up, the sun was nearly at its zenith. It was about time to take a break.

“Master, are you alright?”

After I activated the spell formula and muttered, a reply came promptly. As for how I should address you, calling you “Teacher” would cause institutional issues, and using your name isn’t appropriate given your position; since we aren’t close enough for a nickname, I settled on simply calling you “Master.” I was sternly warned, “Never call me ‘Ojou-sama’”—as if that were tied to some trauma.

The 《Voice Sending》 spell transmits my voice over a distance, delivering it as a whisper to the owner of an object marked with magic. It’s a perfect skill for a Magic Attendant. Its only downside is that it isn’t two-way communication; unless the other party has a similar skill, private messages can’t be exchanged.

『What’s up?』

That voice was transmitted via the 《Thought Transmission》 spell from the Mage category—a spell that supports two-way communication and, since it doesn’t require moving one’s lips, completely removes the worry of someone reading them; a complete superior version.

Well, considering that simply acquiring 《Basic Training》 could let one use 《Voice Sending》 remarkably well, its convenience is undeniable. Even so, I have other things to do, so I opted for the cheaper version. After all, spells that affect the mind are ridiculously overpriced.

Putting that aside, once I indicated that it was time, we took a lunch break. I parked the carriage by the roadside and began preparing for rest.

That said, there was no need for anything particularly extravagant.

Master does not favor overly ambitious itineraries involving camping. Likewise, rustic camp cooking isn’t to his taste; meals are strictly the bento sets purchased at inns. These bento—though perhaps too lavish to be called that—are treated with preservation spells to prevent them from cooling or spoiling, so that when the time comes, one may dine in utmost elegance.

My job was simply to return to the carriage and arrange the food on the table in the room converted into a dining area.

At that time, Eliza was taking the opportunity of lunch to study table manners. Since she doesn’t attend a private school, she also gets lessons in that area—in fact, these days it’s mostly just the very basics of reading and court language, so her lunchtime studies seemed rather cramped and challenging.

They say that magic is neither safe nor gentle when taught to those lacking basic education. That was a rather convincing explanation indeed.

As for me? I don’t really take to that sort of thing, so I stick to a modest assortment of cheap bread and cheese. A makeshift sandwich—prepared by splitting a dagger in half and stuffing it with whatever is on hand—is more than enough.

If I were being greedy, I’d like to have some mayonnaise or mustard, but… I’ll try that out later once I acquire some cooking skills.

Shaking off Eliza’s resentful glance over my shoulder, I returned to the coachman’s seat and enjoyed an al fresco lunch. As expected of a fine inn, even the rye bread was made with high-quality ingredients—soft and delicious, without that overly toasted flavor typical of budget lodgings. The natural taste of the wheat with its subtle tang perfectly complemented the salty sauerkraut and ham. I’m sure it would be just as tasty with some oily, salty sardines added.

After finishing the simple yet high-quality meal, I took some time for light exercise. The suspension was highly advanced—on closer inspection, the axles and the body were completely separated and connected by some mysterious force field—so while I never had to worry about back pain, I simply couldn’t remain still.

Now, as we were entering late spring, it was the height of the farming season. There was always plenty to do—loosening the winter-hardened soil, sowing seeds, and so forth.

Yet here I was, sitting leisurely, while the body that once toiled as a farmer was practically in a panic, as if shouting, “Hey, is it really okay not to move!?” I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully like this.

Therefore, some moderate exercise was necessary. Since Master takes his meals very slowly, it seemed he would remain here for another two hours.

I removed the dust-cloak from my travel attire and drew my “Okuri-ōkami”—a weapon I always carried to adjust to shifts in my center of gravity.

Drawing my beloved sword, fashioned to a total length of 95 cm, required some finesse for a body that had not yet fully grown. I gripped the sword with my right hand, my left hand resting on the scabbard, and twisted my waist as I drew it—so that even a sword too large for my frame could be drawn in a manner that didn’t appear unnatural.

Then, assuming a basic stance, I swung it as if it were an extension of my body. I delivered high, middle, and low strikes, thrusts, and combinations to cut down my imagined foe.

Of course, no matter how sturdy the armor, there are always joints—areas like the armpits or elbows, where too much armor would hinder movement—leaving only light protection; these are the weak spots. With proper aim and sufficient skill, a clean double cut is entirely achievable.

It’s always best to imagine a formidable adversary. Ideally, I’d envision an elite fighter—someone who would try to kill me barehanded—but realistically, I assumed an opponent akin to Master Lambert with a bit of extra flair, and acted accordingly.

Now, my body was gradually warming up.

Well then, let’s proceed with the movement experiment I’d been contemplating.

To get warmed up, I activated the extravagant ability 《Multiple Thoughts》, which I acquired by splurging half of my savings.

In TRPG terms, it’s akin to a multi-action—activating a spell that normally requires a major action as a minor action, an essential trait for a magic swordsman.

Magic inevitably demands mental effort. You have to decide who to target, how, when, and with what output; if you fail to determine even these basics, you end up with a misfire or an explosive fumble. Its complexity makes it impossible to do on the side—it’s not like multitasking while talking on the phone and typing an email.

If that’s the case, no matter how effortless or fuel-efficient a spell might be, it remains incomplete. If your concentration slips even a bit and you can’t cast magic, all the proficiency you’ve built as a magic swordsman goes to waste.

This is precisely what that skill compensates for.

The 《Multiple Thoughts》 ability allows one to cultivate several untangled lines of thought. It doesn’t mean half-listening while being distracted; it enables a dual-core process where two streams of thought coexist simultaneously.

Of course, there are countless things to consider when casting magic and wielding a sword. Relying solely on enhanced 《Thinking Power》 for rapid thought isn’t enough, so I made a grand investment in preparation for the future.

I was still unaccustomed to handling two thoughts at once—there was a strange, conflicting sensation—but after all, there’s no real difference between my own thoughts, and eventually, I’ll get used to it.

One of the parallel thought streams gathered magical energy and activated a spell. Magical energy flowed from the moon ring on my left middle finger, and the 《Invisible Hand》 extended.

That hand truly felt like an extension moved purely by thought—as if there were an invisible third hand.

In an instant, an unpleasant sensation shot down my spine.

Similarly, a sound I recognized from somewhere was captured by my 《Listening Ears》, honed to the level of 《Mastery》.

This is… the sound of a bowstring being released…………..