Show Me Your Stats!

   What’s this? This was the first time Janus had asked to meet first. Ayra checked the stat window reflexively–the affection level remained the same. The mercenary didn’t seem to have asked that question due to increased affection. If he wants to do it again tomorrow…does that man have no conscience?

    Ayra inwardly clicked his tongue and replied, “Tomorrow is a little difficult.”

    “Mm? Do you have a lot of work? Then, the day after tomorrow is alright with me.”

     “It’ll be hard to meet the day after tomorrow as well.”

    Janus crookedly arched his right eyebrow at the consecutive rejection.

    As Ayra picked up his cape and leered at the mercenary’s relaxed muscle line, accentuated by the mercenary’s posture of propping his chin on his palm, he said, “I’ll be going on a business trip to Sobleche tomorrow, so it’ll be hard for us to see each other for a while.”

     That was a fact–it wasn’t an excuse. Ayra finally draped the cloak around himself tightly. Even during the day, this place was cold; but the temperature dropped significantly at night.

     Janus made a puzzled sound and sat up, not understanding what the young lord meant, “Sobleche? When will you come back?”

     “Well… It’s my first time going there, so I’m not sure. I think I’ll have to finish my work before I can come back. Maybe two or three weeks at most?”

     Janus, now fully standing, slipped the hood over Ayra’s head. The mercenary tightly fastened the strings on the hood. Despite the affection rating of three, the man’s touch was quite gentle. Ayra thought they seemed like a couple seeing each other off on a business trip. Embarassed and half-playful, the young lord opened his mouth to tease his lover, “Don’t cheat on me while I’m on my business trip.”

    “Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint my lover in that regard. I should work as well–it’s been a long while.” Janus gently stroked Ayra’s chin.

    After rolling his eyes briefly, Ayra asked, “What do you mean by ‘in that regard?'”

    “I’m just referring to the basic principles of being a good lover: don’t cheat, don’t hit, and don’t kill.”

     Uh… Sure. Hm. That’s fair. But, should ‘don’t kill’ really be included in something like a ‘basic principle…?’ Has he killed a lot of his lovers before…? Ayra fell silent, unable to respond.

    Janus finished tying the hood strings in a pretty bow, “To me, my lover is quite important.” The mercenary continued to wish the young lord a good business trip and kissed him warmly.

❄❄❄❄❄❄

<Notification!>

Master, it’s time to rise! Your wake-up call is ringing! Riiiiinnng XO

     Startled by the loud alarm sound that pierced directly into his brain, Ayra, who was deep asleep, jolted awake. Reflexively, he covered his ears, but the ringing sound persisted in his mind for another minute before finally fading away.

     “Ngh… Ugh….”

     For someone who wasn’t easily awakened, the spirit’s wake-up call was both incredibly effective and painful. It was dark outside; the sun had not risen yet. Ayra forcibly opened his sleepy eyes, rubbing the exhaustion away, and reluctantly climbed off the bed.

     Stepping out of the warm bed, his body trembled in the cold. Ayra wanted to close his eyes for another hour, but he forced his body to move.

     ‘Today is the perfect opportunity.’

      Today was the optimal time to observe the magic circuit of this pristine White Castle, exactly as it was constructed 500 years ago. Previous attempts to examine the bricks, floor tiles, and rooftop shingles had been thwarted by the meddling governor who appeared out of thin air to disrupt his efforts.

     So, this time, the young mage aimed to move at dawn when everyone else was deep asleep. After haphazardly throwing on some clothes, Ayra crept along the dark hallway. Lamps lit the corridor at regular intervals. He descended to the first floor, crossed the gallery, and secretly entered the tea-room. 1

     His targets were the bricks inside the fireplace. Unlike the walls, floors, or the bell tower, the fireplace wouldn’t look amiss even if one brick was removed. When he looked inside, the fireplace was, as expected, full of soot and ashes. Before crawling inside, he magically enveloped himself in a thin layer of air. With determination, he crouched inside the fireplace and began carefully feeling the bricks.

     “Let’s see, hm… These definitely won’t decompose in any normal way. Hooo, Hmm.. Ahah! Then, I’ll apply a little bit of solvent in this gap to temporarily neutralize it, and then I can rip it off…”

     Ayra exited the fireplace and retrieved a solubilizer from his inventory; after trying and failing to open the lid, he crawled back into the fireplace. His fingers, imbued with magic energy, delicately caressed the brick. Just when he tilted his head and began to ponder deeply…

    “…What are you doing in there?”

     “Ack…!” Startled, Ayra jolted upwards and slammed his head hard. As stars appeared before his eyes, his concentration shattered; the magic enveloping his body dissipated.

     The ashes covered the young mage in an instant; Ayra crawled out of the fireplace, whimpering and groaning. As he coughed, he raised his head and saw Ginas, holding a lantern and looking at him with a tired expression. The young governor’s appearance was neat and tidy; he did not appear as if he had just woken.

     Ayra grumbled, “Honestly, why are you even here this early in the morning…”

     “My lord, that’s something I should be asking. What are you doing here this early…” Scanning the scene is suspicious eyes, Ginas stumbled upon the solvent that Ayra had taken out and was left speechless. He leaned down for a moment and examined the glass bottle closely; his face turned pale, “Dear goddess, what in the world is this?”

    “This is a magic solvent. It may look ordinary, but it’s incredibly effective.” Ayra smiled brightly with his ash-covered face. That contrast made his already white teeth shine even more white.

    The mana solvent–the solubilizer–was an artificial organism cluster modeled after a worm-like magic beast that gnawed at mana. Though it was a little dangerous for ordinary folks, the solvent was a safe and useful item for mages.

     He tried to cover the glass bottle with his sleeve, but Ginas had already seen the artificial creatures that resembled bean pests wriggling about in bottle. Disgusted, Ginas backed away with a pale expression and warned, “Immediately take ten steps away from the fireplace and put those disgusting things back inside.”

     “Sir Ginas! Just give me an hour, close your eyes, and I’ll take a quick look. Afterwards, I’ll neatly restore everything back to normal,” Ayla pleaded.

     “Absolutely not! Don’t even dream about it. My word, look at all this!” Ginas screamed and and placed down the lamp. His expression indicated that he looked at these adorable, tiny solvent bugs as if they were termites that would chew up the entire castle.

     As he was about to call someone, Ayra, who had resigned himself to the situation, hardened his face and confronted Ginas. “Are you the owner of this castle, or am I? Are you being insubordinate against your lord right now?”

     At those words, Ginas also hardened his expression. “My lord…”

     And, after a brief moment.

     Ayra trudged back to his bedroom. Unlike Bloom, Ginas would not be swayed when accused of insubordinance.

     Firmly disregarding Ayra’s words, Ginas immediately called for Botello. The faithful steward, who had been awake since early morning, diligently attended to the situation, swiftly brushing away the ash and preparing a warm bath for the young lord.

     “Why don’t you sleep for a little longer? You’ll be away for a while soon,” the man who liked Ayra the most in this castle asked, worried.

     As he placed his arms through the thick outer garment Botello had prepared, Ayra responded, “No, I don’t think I can sleep anymore. I better start the day early and prepare.”

     The area where he had bumped against the fireplace still throbbed and ached… Now fully dressed, Ayra rubbed the small bump on his forehead and headed towards the dining hall. The servants were already bustling about, preparing for Ayra’s meal even before the sun had risen.

     Ayra, sitting down, flicked his fingers as he looked over the steaming food. As soon as he did so, a small group of dolphin-shaped lights appeared and slowly swam through the air. The attendants, who were placing down food and tableware, looked up, and their eyes widened. When the group of lights swam through the air and plunged into the water bottle, the water inside overflowed.

     As the overflowing water whirled and surged, beautiful ice flowers blossomed from the water pitcher after a short while. Botello cleared his throat; the servants regained their composure and resumed their tasks, but they occasionally glanced back at the ice flowers, even as they set down the food.

     Ayra showed magic in front of the castle residents whenever he had the time and opportunity. Fairy magic–magic with absolutely no practicality except for aesthetic pleasure–was quite effective. The average favorability among the castle residents slowly increased. This effect was even more pronounced when it came to manifesting symbols associated with the Mollunka Sect.

     ‘Besides, there isn’t much else to see here. At least my magic is worth watching?’

     Smiling inwardly, Ayra continued his meal calmly. By the time he finished eating, the governor appeared with a pile of luggage. Ayra could have loaded the luggage into his subspace immediately, but, conscious of the public eye, chose otherwise. The attendants followed behind him, their arms laden with luggage.

     Perhaps because it was dawn, the weather was especially cold; frost-like mist had settled on the walls and ground. Nevertheless, Ginas and the attendants, though they wore only one layer, showed no signs of being affected by the cold.

    As they walked across in the tranquil dawn, Ginas called out to Ayra, “I can’t speak for the others, but I’m glad Ayra-nim is a mage.”

     Ayra’s eyes widened at that unexpected remark. It was the first time he had heard something like that–that someone was glad he was a mage–since he came here.

     “Well,” the young governor added, “as long as you don’t try to dismantle the castle.”

    “Mm, thanks,” Ayra pretended that he hadn’t heard those latter words.

    A small wrinkle appeared between Ginas’s brows, but he let out a sigh and brushed it off. Ayra noticed that there was still some ash from the fireplace left on the edge of his sleeve, so the mage discreetly used his magic to dust it off.