I went to the adventurers’ shop to buy a Rank 1–10 Magic Pouch, and while I was there, I asked about clocks.
They showed me a large, scratched pocket watch and told me it cost three gold coins. But since knowing the exact time could mean life or death for me, I insisted on a new one.
The next one they brought out was the same size, neatly boxed, spotless, and cost five gold coins. They said I’d have to wind it about every two days.
They told me that for anything better, I’d need to go to a magic-tool merchant. I paid the five gold coins and got myself a brand-new pocket watch.
When I went to the guild, as usual, to sell my game, I was suddenly surrounded by the staff.
Before I could ask what was going on, the submaster showed up and glared at me.
“Did you pick a fight with the Bloodsmoke Code?”
“We work on the grasslands. We wouldn’t even run into that lot,” I replied.
“What’s going on, Submaster?”
“One of their members ran to the count’s estate and accused you—specifically you—of attacking them with magic.”
“That’s strange. I could understand if they complained to the guild, but why go to the count’s place?”
“Because one of them, a fire mage named Simon, happens to be the count’s sixth son.”
“You knew that?”
“Nope, first I’ve heard of it.”
“Same here.”
“So, the count’s family demanded we hand you over.”
“Submaster, my Wind Magic only brings down birds. It isn’t the kind of thing you would call an attack spell.”
“I thought so too, but apparently five of them, including Simon, were blown away and went missing. The man who made the report was covered in wounds and had a broken arm. He led the count’s guards to search the area, and they found the bodies of three men, including Simon.”
I had tossed them pretty high, but since I flung them into the forest, I figured maybe they landed in the trees and survived. Guess not.
“So they only demanded that I be handed over?”
“Yeah, that’s just an excuse. They really want to get their hands on you.”
“An excuse?”
“The count’s magic corps is weak. It comes last in every annual tournament in the capital. Even if the accusation were true, there’s no proof. Their own misconduct has always been ignored for the same reason—there’s never any evidence, and they have family connections. But demanding that we hand you over on one man’s word is a stretch. My guess is that they want to force you into the magic corps.”
“So, Submaster, are you going to hand me over to the count?”
“As Scott said, we can’t arrest someone based on a single accusation without evidence. They didn’t even file the complaint through the guild, and Bloodsmoke Code’s own troublemaking has always been overlooked for the same reason. Still… it would be bad for the guild to clash with the count’s household. My advice is to leave town.”
“That doesn’t sound like advice. What about my family? If I run, what happens to them?”
“You’re an adventurer—legally, that makes you a drifter. Bloodsmoke Code doesn’t know that you have family here. Even if you were guilty, your relatives wouldn’t be punished.”
“The count himself is reasonable enough, but his second son, Lord Klein, is a stickler for appearances—a pain to deal with. The magic corps captain, Gobran, is desperate to recruit strong mages. If he catches wind of you, he won’t let go.”
It looked as though I would have to leave earlier than planned.
“The guild isn’t going to put a bounty on me, right?”
“Not unless you actually commit a crime. The count’s family is only demanding we hand you over, not that we arrest you.”
“Then I’ll get ready and leave town tomorrow or the day after.”
“Give me your guild card.”
I hesitated, but refusing wasn’t an option. When I handed it over, the submaster smirked.
“You’re skilled enough. I’ll promote you to Bronze Rank First Class.”
A promotion after just one year and eight months of being an adventurer.
“Come back in a year or two. Things should have cooled down by then.”
“Working with you made everything too easy, and we won’t find anyone as good once you leave,” Scott said.
“Maybe next time we’ll look for someone serious about training in magic. Come back if you get tired of traveling.”
The submaster tossed my card back lightly, while Mintz and Scott grumbled beside him.
I decided not to go home, just in case, and instead stayed at the Olivetan Hotel where my mother worked.
She was surprised when I checked in. I usually stopped by only to sell Chiki-Chiki Birds, but she quietly gave me a room.
When I explained what had happened, she was shocked but accepted it, since I wasn’t actually wanted for a crime.
She tried to give me a purse of travel money, but I refused. I’d already saved up the same amount myself.
I bought new boots and clothes, and just to be safe, I stocked up on a folding cot, a folding camp chair, a hooded robe that could double as a blanket, and a tarp for camping.
Three mornings later, I slipped out through the east gate of Lynas, blending in with the adventurers heading to work, wearing old, inconspicuous clothes.
I decided to follow the Blange Highway east, the road connecting Count Arkwright’s Olivetan Territory to the royal capital.
Colfutz, the next town, was the last settlement in Count Arkwright’s territory. Beyond it lay Landru, in Count Radcliffe’s Marcanne Territory.
If I could reach Landru that day, I would be outside Arkwright’s jurisdiction.
The Blange Highway continued into the neighboring Holtland Kingdom, so it carried plenty of travelers and felt relatively safe for someone walking alone.
Even after I used magic to quicken my pace, I couldn’t help noticing how many long-legged travelers passed me.
Hmph. I was short, all right? My stride was small. So what?
I passed through Colfutz safely, but my short legs carried me only as far as the road just before Landru. At least I was much closer to Landru than to Colfutz.
The sky had been gray and heavy, and then suddenly, a wall of rain came rushing from behind.
I hadn’t been paying attention to the weather behind me, so by the time I heard the roar of rain closing in, it was too late. I was caught in a downpour of giant, hammering drops.
I hurriedly pulled out my robe, threw it on, and pulled up the hood.
I had a strange sense of déjà vu—though this wasn’t a canyon and there were no steep slopes nearby, I couldn’t shake off a bad feeling.
I stepped off the main road to a slightly raised spot, wrapped the robe tighter, and watched the rain. The clouds were thick and heavy, dimming the daylight, and there was no sign the rain would stop anytime soon.
Standing there blankly like a teruteru-bōzu doll wasn’t going to help.
After a moment’s thought, I decided I might as well test out something I’d been planning to make for camping.
I created a ring, an air wall, strong and solid… no, that wasn’t quite right.
I imagined it having a certain hardness but also the flexibility to absorb strong impacts, and then invoked [Ring!].
I kicked it experimentally—it felt firm, like kicking stone.
To test its durability, I pulled a stone about the size of an apple from my magic pouch and launched it at the spinning ring.
Thud! A dull sound echoed as the wall dented slightly, but the stone dropped harmlessly to the ground, and the ring returned to its original shape.
I fired another [Bullet!] or two, and again, each strike made a heavy thud but left no damage—the ring absorbed the impact and bounced back.
Then I tried launching a short spear, which was also deflected.
I couldn’t help but grin. For a final test, I tried stabbing a knife into the barrier—but the blade just slid off without leaving a mark.
Right then I thought again of that line I’d read before: “Magic is all about imagination!” The light novels were right after all!
If I could form this much structure, maybe even wind blades were possible… but for now, building a shelter took priority.
I formed a ring about four meters wide, tapering the top to create something like the upper half of an acorn.
Although it was made of air, I imagined it as hard and durable, leaving a small opening at the top for ventilation just in case.
By adding two units of mana to extend its duration, I estimated that it would last about twenty-four hours.
The first thing I’d done after buying a clock was test how long a whirlwind would last before dissipating—it disappeared after roughly three minutes, just as I thought.
Next, I tested what I called [Explosion]—a compressed-air balloon—by placing a dish on top of it and timing it.
Sure enough, after about three minutes the balloon popped, sending the dish flying and making a loud bang. That confirmed my “color timer theory.”
Earlier experiments had shown that a standard [Explosion] lasted about three minutes, but adding one unit of mana extended its duration from morning until evening—about twelve hours.
With two units, it lasted from one morning until the next—twenty-four hours. The test had been so boring that I gave up watching halfway through.
For now, I named this modified barrier form [Dome].
I hung my soaked robe on a folding chair to dry, then sat down on my portable cot inside.
Since I was a little off the road, travelers and carriages passed by at a distance, hurrying through the downpour.
Some noticed me, but because the dome was made of invisible air, they couldn’t tell what it was—just stared, puzzled, and kept walking.
They probably thought I was some weirdo sitting on a cot in the middle of a stormy field.
As I lay back and relaxed, I sensed movement—something approaching through the heavy rain.
Sitting up, I saw a group of drenched adventurers heading my way.
They stopped a few steps away, surprised to see me alone.
We just stood there, staring at each other—a standoff of sorts. There were seven of them, all soaked and fairly young.
Their eyes showed no hostility—just curiosity. One of them reached out toward the dome, so I watched quietly.
He knocked on it a few times, testing its strength, while the others stood silently behind him, observing.
“Hey, brother. We’ll pay you for your trouble. Can you make us one of these?”
Apparently, they thought it’d make a perfect rain shelter.
Their tone was polite and contained no hint of malice or danger, so I accepted the request. It would also give me a chance to gather information about the road ahead.
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