[“Are you angry because we took it? Is that it?”]
[“What’s interest? Teach me, huh? Huh?”]
Patrick’s language ability might’ve regressed, but his cognition was perfectly intact.
‘So they really did steal my mana crystal.’
That meant one cliché had hit him squarely.
“Praise the heavens, I’ve seen it!”
Patrick slumped to the dirt floor and began a triple cheer toward the sky.
“Of course! This is the real world! I’m now a Spirit Master! A Spirit Master!”
“T-Teacher?”
“Ben! I think the Teacher’s finally lost his mind!”
He heard the children’s worried voices but ignored them for a moment, continuing his celebration. Joy is twice as powerful when expressed shamelessly.
[“Look at him! He’s a Spirit Master, a Spirit Master!”]
[“Spirit Master? He says he’s a Spirit Master?”]
Once more, unintelligible voices buzzed in Patrick’s ears.
Whoosh—
At the same moment, a chill wind whipped through the bamboo grove, rolling stones across the ground.
“Look at this, Teacher! It’s what we talked about!”
“The stone-ghost’s back!”
The children shouted as they watched stones roll on their own.
“It’s real.”
Now somewhat composed, Patrick nodded and surveyed his surroundings. As the children had said, stones shifted here and there, driven by a strong wind.
Yet neither the children’s hair nor any bamboo leaves stirred. In other words, the wind blew only around Patrick!
“It’s the power of a spirit.”
“A spirit?”
“Yes. It means the Teacher has become a Spirit Master.”
“Wow!”
“Really? That’s amazing, Teacher!”
“...Is it really so?”
A few of the kids eyed him doubtfully, but Patrick straightened his chest, held his palm to the sky, and spoke aloud.
“Spirits, I am a Spirit Master who can give you form. Come to me.”
Not all wizards just study tomes. He knew how one might contract with a spirit.
‘They never said there were fixed rules like magic spells.’
From what he’d read, spirits represent natural power in its pure form. Nature can’t be bounded by human law. Thus, a spirit contract isn’t something set by human language or edict. All that’s needed is talent and the spirit’s consent! Though we use the word contract, it’s more like a promise.
“Contract with me! I’ll treat you well! I’ll earn money to buy you mana crystals and even play with you!”
And so Patrick began wooing the spirits.
“If you’re like a fairy, you don’t like sweets? I’ll learn to make desserts just for you! Come here and promise with me!”
“...Kids, is this right?”
“I don’t know. It’s scary. Teacher, what are you doing?”
“What spirit?”
The children who’d heard nothing of spirits suddenly thought their teacher crazy for making strange promises into empty air. All except one—Ben.
“He’s trying to contract with a spirit.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Can you hear the spirits too? Wow! As expected of Ben! You’re going to be a great wizard!”
“I wonder. I didn’t think I heard before. Maybe it’s because the Teacher’s here?”
“Could be! It could be!”
To the children, a friend’s word seemed more trustworthy than the teacher’s.
“But I don’t think the spirits will agree to contract with you.”
“Really?”
“But, Ben, even I’d refuse. It feels kind of like a scam.”
“That’s just our Teacher. But he’s not a bad person. I hope the spirits come.”
At Ben’s words, the children chimed in one by one, pitying Patrick as he shouted into the void.
[“He’s a weirdo, such a weirdo!”]
[“He wants to contract with us? Does he really want to?”]
[“I don’t want to! I don’t want to!”]
Not only the kids teased Patrick. The unseen spirits, voicing only taunts from the shadows, circled nearby but showed no sign of taking his hand.
“I wish they would just contract with me...”
Ben, who’d heard the spirits teasing, spoke up. Though Patrick often showed childishness, he’d been the one to rush in and save Ben from the slavers without a second thought—Ben’s benefactor. And the teacher had recognized Ben’s talent.
(Of course, lessons hadn’t progressed yet. Every day they sat under the sun, feeling the breeze, trying to detect faint mana in nature. But nobody had a clue how to start.)
Yet Ben didn’t completely dislike it. Though he couldn’t feel ‘mana,’ sitting in the breeze felt like being held by his mother—the gentle touch of sun, wind, humidity, and temperature against his skin was one of his favorite sensations since childhood.
[“Contract? Do you want to contract? Do you?”]
And then. To Ben’s ear came a spirit’s voice, brimming with delight.
“What? Yes! I want to contract. Our Teacher is not a bad person after all—”
[“Yes!”]
Patrick hurriedly gathered his teacherly merits to explain, but the spirit, as though no explanation was needed, simply affirmed.
[“Let’s contract, contract!”]
Flash!
Light burst forth. Though not a huge blaze—just a small flare lighting part of the grove—Patrick and the children all felt its power was not magic.
“Wah! A contract? Did I just contract?”
Patrick was the first to recover his wits, jumping up and looking around.
“What? Spirit? Spirit Master? Come forth. The contractor calls.”
Yet despite the contract, the spirits did not answer his summons.
“What’s this? I’ve heard spirits are mischievous, but this is early for pranks.”
“Teacher.”
Ben approached hesitantly as Patrick resolved to regain control.
“Save the congratulations. This is nothing for the Teacher. Ha ha!”
“That’s not it.”
“What? You want to learn spirit arts instead of magic? Stop it. That’s talent’s realm. Only someone like me can learn both magic and spirits. You, who can’t even feel mana, can’t—Wait, since when did you tame a sparrow?”
As Patrick rambled on with self-praise, he noticed a sparrow perched on Ben’s shoulder, refusing to fly away. Actually, it didn’t look exactly like a sparrow.
‘Something fluffier. The color’s a bit off too.’
Patrick barely knew ten bird species. He tried to ignore it.
“Teacher, I think this bird is a spirit...”
“Yes, yes. I know it’s not a sparrow...What?”
“So I think I contracted with the spirit, Teacher!”
A feast broke out in the village. Ben’s father had gone to the mainland, bought a whole pig, and started roasting it in the village square. The distillery’s casks were tapped and the liquor flowed freely.
“My goodness, what’s happening?”
“Dunbrook Island’s celebrating! It’s a celebration!”
The square buzzed with festivity. Everyone clasped Ben’s parents’ hands, offering congratulations as if their own joy. In this small village—closer than kin—they all knew each other’s affairs.
“So Ben wasn’t a wizard but a Spirit Master?”
“Seems so! The Teacher said Spirit Masters, when their power is ripe, cause weird phenomena around them—just like what happened to Ben.”
“Really? Why didn’t the Teacher think of that?”
“Spirit Masters are rarer than mages, so he probably never considered it.”
“That makes sense!”
Ben’s true talent lay not in magic but spirit power. Rarer than a wizard, what a find—a Spirit Master! Not that Spirit Masters are necessarily more powerful than mages; their strength comes from nature’s many facets. But spirits’ whims mean success isn’t guaranteed; power can fade or vanish, so finding patrons is hard.
Still, a commoner contracting a spirit meant a dramatically easier life. That’s why everyone rushed to congratulate Ben’s parents.
“Maybe that’s why your distillery’s spirits taste so good since you had Ben!”
“Maybe! We thought he was a blessing, but we didn’t realize it was really thanks to Ben. Ha ha! Here, this was made when Ben was born. Have a taste, Chief.”
“Oh my! Such a treasure! Thank you!”
“Me too, me too! Pour me a cup!”
Amid the joyous celebration, one person got thoroughly drunk.
“Hic!”
“Teacher, please stop! You’ve had so much already.”
“I can’t resist good food with my drink.”
“But you’ve already drunk so much—how will you get home later?”
“I’m not going! I’ll stay here all night!”
“Such a nuisance.”
“Hey! You’re disrespecting the Teacher now that he’s a Spirit Master! Oh dear, villagers!”
“Ugh, how rude!”
The children encircled Patrick, giggling.
“I’m so jealous! I want a spirit too!”
“You don’t own a spirit—you live with one, didn’t he just tell us?”
“Same difference… hic!”
Patrick clutched his stomach, unsure what to do. A Spirit Master! A Spirit Master! Everyone knows a Spirit Master can do far more than a second-circle mage.
“I wish I could...”
“Haha! Teacher must be really jealous of Ben!”
“Who blatantly says that to an adult? Hee hee!”
Ten-year-olds laughed at Patrick’s sincere envy until he finally rose.
“Can you get home alone? I’ll take you.”
“I’m the protagonist—why would I go missing? Come here.”
“Are you going to flick my forehead?”
“I’m a teacher, not a thug.”
“You hit me every day.”
Grumbling, Ben wrapped a platter of roast pork in cloth and slung it over Patrick’s shoulder.
“Tomorrow, put this in your soup!”
“All right. Here—this.”
“What’s this?”
Patrick handed over the pouch containing several mana crystals. Upon hearing he’d gotten a pig, Patrick had emptied his savings to buy more crystals and asked Ben’s father to get them instead.
“I’ve spent my entire fortune—use these wisely and feed them well.”
“…Teacher!”
Patrick finished his business and stumbled back along the dirt road. Behind him, the sunset burned in glorious splendor.