Some social events in Japan have changed with the times, while others haven’t.
For example, changes to national holidays led to the disappearance of Golden Week.
Valentine’s Day has become an event where people give three-colored dango.
And New Year is still celebrated just as it always has been.
Since the New Year holiday is still around, the custom of giving New Year’s money is alive and well too.
Seasonal sales are also going strong.
From Christmas through the New Year, it’s a major money-making period for many businesses, and newspapers are packed with ads for it.
I first thought about giving Hiyori an engagement ring after spending a whole night listening to her anxiously ramble before her trip.
But I can’t deny that all those ads encouraging people to buy things had some influence too.
Looking at department store ads labeled “for families” or “for couples,” you start thinking maybe you should give something like that. Those advertisers are really good at making people want things.
That said, while I did fall into their trap enough to request a catalog, once I actually looked at it, I changed my mind—“I can make something better myself, exactly how I want, faster and cheaper.” Good thing I’m basically the world champion of dexterity.
I interpret the meaning of an engagement ring as “physical proof of reassurance.”
Scarily enough, cheating is a real horror phenomenon that exists in this world.
Given that, wearing an engagement ring makes cheating a lot harder.
Sure, you could take the ring off temporarily to cheat, but that’s already going pretty far. The barrier definitely gets higher.
Also, approaching or flirting with someone wearing an engagement ring is harder too.
In other words, engagement rings have a deterrent effect against cheating.
Also, just looking at the ring itself probably brings peace of mind.
The ring itself is only worth its price, but the fact that someone prepared and gave you something that expensive—that becomes reassurance.
Love isn’t money, but money is undeniably one way to measure love.
When I explained my engagement ring theory to Mamono-kun, who had dropped by to meet the professor, he nodded with a slightly awkward expression.
“Your ideas are always unique, Dairi-san.”
“Something weird about it?”
“No. It’s very logic-driven, but I don’t think the way you think is strange.
If anything, the strange part might be consulting me about engagement rings.”
“…?”
Mamono-kun pointed that out, but I didn’t really get it.
Among my friends, the only ones with engagement experience are the ermine professor and Mamono-kun.
And asking the professor about romance or marriage is off-limits.
So naturally, that leaves Mamono-kun.
Perfect logic.
Tilting my head in confusion, Mamono-kun gave a wry smile.
“I’m someone whose engagement was broken off. In other words, I failed. If you consult me, all I can offer are stories of failure.”
“That still makes you more qualified than someone who’s never even failed. Experience has value regardless of success or failure. I want to hear what you have to say.”
“…I think I understand a little how the witches feel when your words comfort them. Still, it’s not exactly a pleasant topic… though maybe I should help, so you don’t end up like me.”
After thinking it over, Mamono-kun nodded.
“If you’re okay with me, I’ll help. What do you want to ask?”
“I want to ask what I should even ask. I don’t know anything.”
“Ah… I think you should at least think about it a bit yourself first.”
Oh? That’s the same thing the professor and the Spider Witch would say.
That alone raises my trust in Mamono-kun.
“For now, I’m thinking of using platinum for the ring. Pure platinum is too soft, so I’ll mix in about 15% palladium to increase hardness.”
“Going with an old style, huh? The mainstream now is vacuum silver—hollow silver. Any particular reason for choosing a classic approach? It’s not about the price… is it?”
“I don’t want it to have magical functions. Not because it’s useful or magically strong—I want her to wear it purely because it’s an engagement ring. I’m not trying to power her up with equipment. I just want her to know I love her, anytime.”
Up until now, the things I’ve given Hiyori were mostly practical gear.
Even if I paid attention to design, I was basically dressing her up as a showcase for my magical equipment.
She probably understood that.
But an engagement ring is different.
I want it to be something that confirms our feelings—nothing extra.
If she has the ring, she’ll feel reassured.
Maybe she won’t spend nights crying in anxiety before going away alone.
Even when I’m not there, she can look at the ring and remember me—remember how I feel.
Adding magic functions would just be noise.
Not everything needs to be multi-functional.
After hearing my reasoning, Mamono-kun looked like he’d reached enlightenment.
“Ah… you’ve graduated. There’s nothing left for me to lecture someone who can say that sincerely. If anything, I should be the one learning from you.”
“Hey, hey. That’s too fast. Don’t graduate me yet—let me repeat a year.”
I managed to keep the consultation going.
At least I got confirmation that my thinking wasn’t weird—but I still had more to ask.
“I also want advice on the ring design. I’m confident in my artistic sense, but this isn’t just an art piece—it’s the ultimate romantic gift. My strongest skill and my weakest area are colliding, and it’s messing with my head.”
“I see…”
Mamono-kun may be a monster researcher, but he’s also crafted incredibly detailed kappa masks on his own. His artistic sense is reliable, and his experience in relationships far surpasses mine.
When I showed him my design, he pointed something out about the engraving.
“The design is good. But why English text? Neither of you are from an English-speaking background, right?”
“It’s not English—it’s romaji. I thought about kanji, but it’d be too small and hard to read. Hiragana or katakana feels childish. So I figured romaji was standard.”
“Was that the old standard?”
“Yeah.”
Mamono-kun shook his head.
“That’s outdated. The Blue Witch is used to modern styles. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“So it’s not about engraving names—it’s about which language to use?”
“For things like this, magic language is standard.”
Right, Hiyori did say magic language became the international language.
Used in official settings and documents.
Makes sense—engagements are kind of formal too.
“However, ‘Earth Language’ has been gaining popularity lately. Since I specialize in monsters, I might be biased, but I’d recommend using Earth Language over magical language.”
“Earth… Language…?”
That sounded important.
What kind of cool-sounding language is that?
Apparently, Mamono-kun knows a lot about it.
Earth Language is an artificial language based on monster vocalizations—his favorite field.
According to him, it started because of flaws in magical language as a global standard.
Magic language is fair—no country owns it, and everyone learns it equally.
Plus, it lets you use magic, which is a huge advantage.
But it has major flaws.
People learn it through spell chants, meaning vocabulary is limited.
For example, there’s no word for “blue.”
So Hiyori’s title ends up written as something like “Blue Witch” using borrowed pronunciation.
It’s awkward.
Worse, some sounds can’t be pronounced at all.
Only transcendent beings can actually speak it.
That’s a huge problem for everyday communication.
Because of this, even after decades as an official global language, it’s only used in formal contexts.
No country uses it as a primary spoken language.
“Magical language is incredible,” Mamono-kun said. “Without it, humanity wouldn’t be where it is today. But as a global language, it’s not suitable. If we’re talking about something to be used worldwide, Earth Language is far superior.”
He carefully acknowledged the importance of magical language, while passionately promoting his favorite.
Earth Language is an artificial language based on monster cries.
Monsters don’t chant spells—they vocalize. Their cries are their spells.
They can use magic without vocalizing, but it’s stronger when they do.
Even creatures like Mokutan or dragons breathe fire more effectively when they cry out while doing it.
Monster cries like these are primitive forms of incantation, and they also form the foundation of the magic language.
For example, the phrase “Freeze—Vaara” contains the sound written phonetically as “ɑːr” (“aa”). It’s the “aa” part within “raa.”
The cries of monsters related to freezing, cold air, or lowering temperature always—without exception—contain this “ɑːr” sound.
“ɑːr” carries the magical meaning of the ice attribute. You could even call it the core that links magic and sound.
In magic language, “Vaara” likely developed through a process like this:
The sound “ɑːr” is essential to ice magic
Let’s incorporate “ɑːr” into the language as a sound representing freezing (make it the core)
“Vaara” and “aa” combine to form “Vaara”
There are many words that can’t be explained by this logic, but far too many that can.
It’s definitely not a coincidence.
The important point here is that the essence of magic language lies in monster cries.
It’s not the unpronounceable sounds that matter.
People of magic civilizations, unlike Earth humans, can pronounce sounds that humans cannot. That’s why those sounds were incorporated into magic language—making it unsuitable for humans.
On the other hand, friction sounds (safe sounds) that humans can pronounce don’t exist in magic language, and magic beings likely can’t pronounce them. That makes Earth languages unsuitable for them.
So, scholars who grew tired of the flaws of magic language as a global common language came together and created an artificial language called “Earth Language.”
Like magic language, it uses monster cries as its core—but:
It removes unpronounceable sounds
Uses easy-to-write, highly readable characters
Organizes grammar in a clear and simple way
In short, Earth Language is a completely new, original form of magic language, rebuilt from scratch to suit humans.
It’s still immature as a language, but it will continue to be refined and developed over time.
Mamono-kun’s passionate explanation showed no signs of stopping, and at some point my brain just couldn’t keep up—the words started going in one ear and out the other.
I mean, it was interesting. Really interesting. But hearing it all at once was too much.
I’m a magic staff craftsman, not a linguist. No matter how clearly he explained it, getting hit with a flood of unfamiliar information was overwhelming.
He and the professor probably get excited talking about this kind of thing all the time.
But for me, it was too much.
So I raised my hand and cut through the torrent of words, summing it up roughly:
“Magic language is for digging up the past. Earth Language is for building the future.
So instead of engraving an old language not suited for Earth, it’s better to use a new language with a future. That about right?”
“Exactly. So—”
“Hold on, Mamono-kun. I’d listen more, but that stoat’s been fidgeting at the doorway for a while. You had plans, right?”
“…Ah.”
Mamono-kun noticed the dressed-up little stoat peeking from behind a pillar and made a “whoops” face.
He apologized repeatedly to both me and the professor before leaving.
After seeing him off, I crossed out the Roman letters in my ring design and wrote:
“Earth Language!”
Magic language is fascinating, sure.
But Earth Language—built from humanity’s collective wisdom and still evolving—has its own appeal.
Since I’ll be with Hiyori for a long, long time, it makes sense to engrave something with a future.
Yeah… asking Mamono-kun for advice on the engagement ring was definitely the right call.
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