The Magician Who Was Constantly Called Incompetent Is Actually the Strongest in the World, but Was Imprisoned and Didn’t Realize It Volume 1 Chapter 3
Chapter 3: The Lost Lands
The North Gate of Yaltar, the Dragon City, served as the gathering point for the Virte Guild.
By the time Ars and his group arrived, twelve Schüler were already assembled, standing in formation.
Their disciplined ranks, reminiscent of soldiers, sparked a suspicion in Ars’s mind. Curious, he turned to Karen with a question.
“You’ve got a sharp eye,” Karen replied with a grin. “About sixty percent of our guild are former magicians of the Virte Kingdom. Since we operate under the Virte name, we require our members to join with full awareness of the risks.”
Conflicts with guilds favoring the Earth Empire were not uncommon. In the past, the Virte Kingdom had been their backbone, but now that their homeland was gone, its former prestige carried uncertain weight. Joining the guild with lofty expectations would only lead to disappointment.
“And our guild emblem is the Virte royal family’s crest, so a certain level of resolve is necessary,” she added.
The guild cloaks draped over Karen and the others bore the embroidered lily emblem of the Virte royal house on their backs.
“It’s like painting a target on ourselves,” Ars remarked.
“That’s exactly why I founded this guild,” Karen said. “If we build enough power within the Magic Association, we can intimidate the Earth Empire. Crush the guilds tied to them, undermine the empire, and pass the knowledge we cultivate in the Magic City back to the Virte Kingdom for support—but I’ve barely fulfilled that original duty.”
Before the plan could fully take shape, their nation had fallen, leaving them isolated.
Even so, abandoning their banner now was unthinkable, so they’d maintained it ever since.
“Karen, you’ve already done so much for our country,” Julia said firmly. “This time, let’s work together and start anew from here. We need to build our strength so that, one day, when the people wish for Virte’s revival, we can make it happen.”
Julia’s resolute declaration brought a smile to Karen’s face as she nodded.
“You’re right. Now I’ve got you with me, Big Sis! Someday, I’ll make it so the people worship only you—no, I’ll fight to revive our nation, yours and mine!”
Her purpose seemed to shift slightly, and a flicker of dangerous zeal crept into her words. Still, seeing her spirits lift, Ars wisely held his tongue.
“We’re getting off track again,” Elsa interjected, steering the conversation back on course. She unfurled a large map.
“For this expedition, we’ll avoid areas claimed by other nations. And if another guild approaches, issue a warning first—don’t engage recklessly.”
Once they set foot in the Lost Lands, anyone outside their allied guilds was an enemy.
“Think of the Lost Lands as a lawless zone—a place perpetually at war,” Elsa cautioned.
The expedition’s goal was to gather materials like meat, hides, horns, and magic stones from magical beasts.
Additionally, finding artifacts like spellbooks could fetch high prices—or, if submitted to the Magic Association, earn contribution points toward tier advancement.
“This expedition is planned for three days and two nights. However, if we secure enough materials, we’ll withdraw early. If we uncover valuable magical artifacts or spellbooks, we return immediately,” Elsa explained.
If other guilds learned they held precious items, it could spark a skirmish; if national armies got involved, it might escalate into slaughter.
“There are ancient towns along the way that’ve fallen to ruin, but don’t approach them. They’re often hideouts for deserters or bandits, and their resources have long been stripped bare—there’s nothing to gain,” she concluded, scanning the group.
“Any questions?”
Seeing no one speak up, Elsa glanced at Karen and stepped back.
Karen took a step forward in turn, her gaze sweeping over the Schüler before she squared her shoulders and declared, “Do your utmost to avoid injury, and absolutely no dying. If it feels dangerous, retreat.”
Her tone carried the dignity befitting a Lehrer, the playful little devil nowhere to be seen.
The Schüler nodded slightly in understanding.
“Alright, let’s move out! Follow me, everyone!” Karen commanded.
The group set off with high spirits, and Ars felt his own excitement surge.
This was it—the Lost Lands he’d dreamed of, teeming with formidable magical beasts.
A harsh terrain where even the prolific goblins couldn’t survive.
It was the perfect place to test his strength and gauge his true level.
Plus, he could experiment with magic, develop new techniques, and train with his daggers all at once.
“Oh, I forgot to mention to Big Sis and Ars—” Karen began, turning back.
But a massive beast emerged from the forest, cutting her off.
With a swift swipe, they lifted the trees, kicking up dust and shaking the ground with thunderous footsteps.
One, three, five—the creatures multiplied, hurling massive trees their way.
The group braced against a bone-rattling tremor as the earth buckled beneath the impact.
Yet Karen didn’t flinch at the monsters behind her.
“Here in the Lost Lands, the beasts you encounter from the start are tough,” she said with a cute smile, dust swirling around her.
＊
Meanwhile, in the Earth Empire’s Meganbrook Border Count Territory, at Pluton City:
The silence of Orpheus’s manor was shattered by a man’s furious shout.
“Border Count Meganbrook, this is a grave failure!”
“Lord Albert, yelling here won’t bring the princess back,” Orpheus replied, casting a weary glance at the irate man before him.
Seated across from him on the sofa was Albert Tu Schwarz.
One of the Earth Empire’s elite Magic Knights—known as one of the Five Swords of the Empire, the pinnacle of its combat prowess.
“What’s with that look? Don’t tell me you still don’t grasp the situation, you fool!” Albert snapped.
“I’m well aware,” Orpheus said, shrugging before continuing.
“Lord Albert received an imperial decree to escort Princess Julia, yet he delegated the task to his subordinates while indulging in leisure. As a result, the princess slipped through his fingers. That’s the gist of it, isn’t it?”
“…I wasn’t indulging in leisure,” Albert retorted. “I was stationed in the rear, preparing to deal with any remnants trying to reclaim Princess Julia.”
“Hmph. No matter how you spin it, it’s meaningless,” Orpheus sneered through his nose. “If His Majesty the Emperor finds out, you’re in deep trouble.”
Albert clicked his tongue in frustration, his face twisting with displeasure.
“Tch… Fine. The pressing issue is Princess Julia. According to my subordinates’ reports, it’s been confirmed that a young man named Ars entered the Magic City alongside her.”
“Then our hands are tied,” Orpheus said. “If the Demon Lords get involved, things will get messy.”
“We can’t give up that easily! This is an imperial decree from His Majesty!” Albert snapped.
Failure to retrieve Princess Julia would undoubtedly cost him his prestigious title as one of the Five Swords of the Empire. No—if it were just a matter of losing his rank, that’d be the best outcome.
More likely, he’d face accountability and a public execution.
Princess Julia possessed the exceedingly rare Talent [Light].
So it was understandable that Albert couldn’t let it go so easily.
But now that she’d entered the Magic City, acting recklessly was off the table.
“So what’s your plan?” Orpheus pressed. “His Majesty has no desire to wage war against the Magic Association.”
Attacking the Magic City to retrieve Julia would be sheer madness.
The Meganbrook Border Count Territory maintained a standing army of ten thousand, swelling to thirty thousand with reserves.
On paper, that sounded impressive, but those thirty thousand soldiers all bore powerless Talents, incapable of wielding magic.
Before magicians, they were little more than a rabble—weak enough that a single squad of Magic Knights could wipe them out.
A master like Albert, for instance, could annihilate ten thousand soldiers single-handedly.
In this world, regular soldiers were tasked with looting, sabotage, support, and serving as meat shields to buy time. Within the Meganbrook territory, fewer than a hundred Magic Knights could be mobilized.
By contrast, a high-ranking guild under the Magic Association commanded over two hundred magicians.
That was just one guild.
The comparison was laughable—the Magic Association’s overwhelming strength rendered the gap absurd.
“That’s why we’re discussing it here,” Albert said. “I’d also like to hear the esteemed opinion of the elf dispatched by the Holy Church.”
Albert turned his gaze to the figure seated on the central sofa—a male elf of otherworldly beauty.
“What a delightful aroma. Fine tea leaves, indeed,” said Virg, one of the Ten Holy Celestials, as he quietly set his teacup on its saucer.
“If you can’t act inside the city, lure her out,” Virg suggested. “The rest depends on your skill, Lord Albert.”
“What?” Albert blinked.
“If I recall correctly, the Earth Empire has established guilds within the Magic Association, yes?” Virg prompted.
“You mean the Lichton Alliance? What about them?” Albert asked.
“With your authority, Lord Albert, can you mobilize them?” Virg inquired.
“Not the other three, but I can freely command the Shtede Guild,” Albert confirmed.
“Then contact them immediately,” Virg urged. “If the Shtede Guild doesn’t move, all our planning is for naught.”
“Understood. I’ll reach out to them now,” Albert said, dashing out of the room without a shred of doubt.
Orpheus clicked his tongue again, watching the guileless man depart.
“Fifth-ranked, and that’s the extent of his wits. Pathetic,” he muttered.
The door shut, and Orpheus loomed closer to Virg.
“What’s your game here? If the Emperor finds out, a mere reprimand won’t cut it,” he growled.
“Let Lord Albert shoulder all the blame,” Virg replied smoothly. “Rest assured, as long as you follow my lead, the Meganbrook family will face no repercussions.”
“…What are you plotting?” Orpheus demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Virg said.
The backlight obscured his expression, but Orpheus could imagine the loathsome smirk. Despite his exquisite features, Virg’s smile was a mire of dark, sticky disdain—the quintessential elven look of contempt for other races.
“All for the Holy Church,” Virg declared.
＊
Broken trees pierced the ground, forming a desolate mockery of a forest.
As the wind cleared the dust and vision sharpened, a hulking creature with pale green skin emerged. Its upper body was bare, clad in steel-hard muscles.
Two jagged canines jutted from its lower lip, drool spilling from its maw.
It bore a human-like head, dominated by a single massive eye—a cyclops.
“These are cyclopes,” Karen explained. “Low intelligence, but incredible strength. A single hit from one could turn a normal human into paste.”
Ars perked up at her description.
“Oh, so this is a cyclops…” he mused.
Its ecosystem resembled that of beastmen or goblins, and scholars speculated it might be an evolved variant.
In terms of raw power, it ranked among the top tier of magical beasts.
“A cyclops’s strength is such that it’d take about a hundred non-magic-using soldiers to bring one down—and even then, just barely,” Karen added.
“As ferocious as it looks,” Ars noted.
“Still, it’s my first time seeing a beast this big.”
Julia nodded with keen interest as the first cyclops fell before the trio.
“Blind its eye first, then bind its legs!” Karen shouted.
“Don’t let go of the ropes until the very end!”
“There’s an injured person here—please cast a healing spell!”
“Who told you to rush in like that? Alright, take off its head, then move to the arms.”
The cyclops writhed in agony, kicking up a storm of dust with its thrashing.
Finally, its limbs severed by the Schüler, it fell silent in death.
“We’re still at the entrance. Try to conserve your magic and avoid using it when possible,” Elsa advised, directing the group nearby.
Then, in a blur too fast to follow, her arm moved—and two cyclopes crumpled to the ground.
Arrows protruded from the fallen beasts’ eyes.
“They’re not fully dead yet. Behead them first, then harvest the magic stones and materials,” Elsa instructed, lowering her bow.
The Schüler complied without complaint, swiftly dispatching the cyclopes.
“That leaves just these two. Perfect—over to you, Big Sis and Ars,” Karen said.
Five cyclopes had appeared in total, and the group had split the task of handling them.
Karen had insisted Julia and Ars observe the others’ combat first, so they’d held back until now.
The Schüler targeted the cyclopes’ weak points, which was informative, but Elsa’s archery was so extraordinary it offered no practical reference.
“Let’s get started,” Ars said, drawing his twin daggers from the pouch at his waist.
Beside him, Julia unsheathed her longsword.
Her poised profile betrayed no tension, her demeanor calm and serene, like a tranquil sky.
True to form, the moment battle loomed, her presence sharpened into something blade-like.
“Since it’s a rare chance, how about a contest to see who can take theirs down faster?” Ars suggested.
“The loser buys the winner something they like in the commercial district. How’s that?” Julia replied.
To Ars’s surprise, Julia accepted his proposal with enthusiasm.
He’d half-expected her to deflect with something like, “I could never beat you.”
Her unexpected response piqued his curiosity—now he’d get a glimpse of her magic.
The power of her Gift [Light] was unfathomable.
It might hold spells he’d never encountered, and he’d been eager to use his [Hearing] to memorize some of that knowledge.
“Deal,” Ars agreed.
Julia raised her longsword and began her incantation.
“Rotten cathedral, murky comet, unmatched by any, this body unyielded, gazing ahead.”
Light spilled from her feet, weaving into delicate white lines that traced an elegant magic circle.
“Dance—‘Lightspeed.’”
In an instant, Julia vanished, leaving only an afterimage.
A tremor shook the ground, followed by a strange groan that drew every eye.
The cyclops’s head soared into the air, its headless body gushing blood like a fountain.
“I win,” came a voice beside him.
Turning, Ars found Julia standing where she’d begun, her expression relaxed and sweat-free.
Her sword was already sheathed, as if nothing had happened.
As Ars scrambled for words, the cyclops’s massive frame collapsed into a silent corpse.
Not just Ars—everyone stared, dumbfounded.
This was the unparalleled [Light], a power worthy of its rare designation.
“Yeah… Julia wins,” Ars managed, his voice strained with awe.
No wonder she’d agreed to the bet so readily. With magic like that, she’d never doubt her victory.
“Don’t forget—when we hit the commercial district, you’re buying me something I like,” she said with a smile.
Ars was flat broke. But faced with that grin, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.
He’d planned to earn money on this expedition, but how much would it take to satisfy a princess?
(I’ve really dug myself a hole… Should’ve just asked her to show me the [Light] magic outright.)
No point dwelling on it now. To break even, he’d make full use of this chance to experiment.
“—‘Lightspeed.’”
No chant. Magic reserves were fine. Yet no circle appeared—nothing happened.
An odd silence blanketed the area.
It was the stillness of witnessing something that shouldn’t have been attempted—an awkward hush reigned.
Julia smiled at him, though her brows furrowed in mild distress.
Elsa averted her gaze from Ars, staring skyward.
“No, no, no! Seriously? What are you doing?” Karen broke in, undaunted by the strange atmosphere.
“Big Sis’s ‘Lightspeed’ is super cool, sure. But it’s not something you can just copy. And skipping the chant? Out of the question. At least say the incantation!” she chided.
Maybe he looked like a kid mimicking his idol.
Karen’s expression softened into something maternal, watching a naughty child with fond exasperation.
“Your Talent is [Hearing], right, Ars? So I don’t think you can use [Light] magic. It’s impossible unless it’s the same Talent… You get that, don’t you? You should know that,” Karen said.
Her reaction was perfectly reasonable—common knowledge in this world.
Still, while Ars appreciated her breaking the awkward silence with her usual energy, he wished she wouldn’t suddenly shift to treating him so delicately.
“True, but I still wanted to try,” he replied.
He wanted to figure out which magical system his [Hearing] belonged to.
Julia’s [Light] was of the white system, Karen’s [Flame] was red.
With Elsa’s blue hair and eyes, she might have a blue-system Talent.
Beyond those, there were orange, black, green, and yellow—every Talent fell into one of these seven systems.
Hair color, eye color, or the hue of a magic circle were the usual ways to identify a Talent’s system.
Given that, Ars might lean toward black or green, though it wasn’t definitive.
That’s why he’d thought testing a rare Talent like [Light] might yield some reaction.
The result hadn’t been what he’d hoped.
But—
“‘Echo.’”
By using his [Hearing] magic on Julia, he could tap into the spells tied to her Talent.
“—‘Lightspeed.’”
As Ars spoke the spell’s name, a white magic circle bloomed beneath his feet.
In an instant, a sensation washed over him—as if time itself had frozen.
“Whoa, this is incredible… Is this the world Julia fights in?” he marveled.
Fallen leaves drifting from branches, clouds sliding across the sky, the scent of greenery he’d caught moments ago, the sound of the wind—all sounds and smells vanished. The cyclops, Julia, and the others stood still, as if bound by a ‘Restraint’ spell.
“Alright, my turn,” Ars muttered.
He broke into a run, channeling magic into his daggers.
Feeling as though his blood were being siphoned away, he swung without hesitation, slicing at the cyclops’s leg. The blade bit, but the limb stayed attached.
No blood sprayed, and the cyclops didn’t fall—it hadn’t even registered the strike.
“What a fascinating spell… though it’s tough on the body,” Ars concluded.
Then, the world snapped back into motion.
There must be a time limit. He also realized ‘Lightspeed’ devoured a hefty chunk of magic.
As time resumed, the cyclops’s leg flew off, its wail echoing through the air.
Ars raised a hand toward the beast, now slumped in pain.
“—‘Dragon’s Roar.’”
Green lines streaked through the air, weaving a perfect circle adorned with intricate patterns.
From the magic circle emerged a massive dragon’s head, forged of wind.
In a flash, it crushed the cyclops’s skull and blasted its body to pieces.
“That should do it,” Ars said.
He’d successfully cast ‘Lightspeed,’ a spell he’d only just heard.
Yet he still had no clear answer about which of the seven systems [Hearing] belonged to.
“Guess I’ll dig into some old texts back in the Magic City… There might’ve been others like me in the past,” he mused.
Assuming he was the only one was too hasty. Even if prior [Hearing] users existed, they could’ve faded into obscurity.
“I should experiment more too. There might be spells [Hearing] can’t handle,” he added.
He decided to use this expedition to test the magics he’d learned during his confinement. Against a foe like the cyclops, with its many openings, it was fine—but in a split-second crisis, a failed spell could be fatal.
“Wait, that was amazing! How’d you do that?!” Karen exclaimed, suddenly smacking his back hard.
“Guh!?” Ars yelped.
“Oh, sorry! I was so shocked I got carried away,” she apologized.
“Ars, are you okay!?” Julia rushed over, rubbing his back.
“Karen, what are you doing?!” she scolded.
“It’s just—he used your magic, Big Sis… I accidentally let my surprise show through my hands,” Karen explained sheepishly.
“Your strength’s boosted by your Talent, so I’ve told you since forever to control it!” Julia huffed.
“Oh~ Right, that’s true… I forget sometimes. But ‘Firepower’ is handy in a fight,” Karen said with a shrug.
Talents often granted exceptional abilities beyond the norm.
For Ars, [Hearing] meant ‘auditory acuity’—he could hear a pin drop kilometers away.
Karen’s [Flame], meanwhile, granted ‘firepower,’ enhancing her physical prowess, including strength.
“Honestly… Apologize to Ars,” Julia ordered.
“Yes~… Fine,” Karen sighed.
Chastised by her sister, Karen drooped.
“Ars, I’m sorry. Does it still hurt?” she asked, rubbing his back while peeking at his face.
“N-No, I’m fine now,” he stammered.
It was the first time in his life he’d felt such searing pain.
Even the ‘magic development’ training his father had subjected him to hadn’t hurt this much—or so he thought.
Thankfully, the slap had landed on his back. If it’d been his head, he might’ve passed out cold.
“I’ve gained valuable experience,” Ars said dryly. “Even a simple slap, when honed to perfection, can pack that kind of punch.”
“I didn’t train for it—it’s just my Talent’s influence… Anyway, I’m really sorry,” Karen replied, wincing.
“No worries, don’t sweat it. By the way, what were you about to ask earlier?” Ars prompted.
“Oh~… Right, since we’re on the topic, why can you use other people’s magic?” Karen asked, seizing the chance.
“Karen, it’s rude to pry like that,” Julia chided, though her eyes sparkled with barely concealed curiosity.
“It’s fine. It’ll come out eventually, and there’s no point hiding it,” Ars said casually. “There’s a spell in [Hearing] called ‘Echo.’ When I cast it, I can use the same magic as the person I target.”
He’d need to hear their incantation, adjust his magic output, and keep them nearby—those were the conditions.
There were a few more stipulations, but explaining them felt tedious, so he left them out.
“So that’s how that spell worked earlier,” Julia said, clapping her hands together in realization.
“What even is that…? Isn’t it way too convenient?” Karen muttered, gazing at Ars with genuine envy before a sudden epiphany hit her. “Wait! So you suggested that contest with Big Sis just to see her magic?!”
“Well… yeah, pretty much,” Ars admitted. “It feels like I tricked you, so I’m sorry about that.”
He apologized to Julia, who shook her head with a gentle smile.
“No, if it helped you, I’m glad. Plus, we get to go shopping together, so there’s no need to apologize,” she reassured him.
Her kindness, paired with her [Light] Talent, made her seem almost saintly.
A sudden thought struck Ars, tinged with unease.
(Right… The Earth Empire might not be our only enemy.)
The Holy Church—a nation that collected white-system Talents.
Ruled by elves, it wielded power rivaling the Magic Association.
If they learned of Julia’s existence, they could prove far more troublesome than the empire.
After defeating the cyclopes, Ars and the group pressed onward through the pathless expanse.
The northern continent—the Lost Lands—was a realm of unforgiving harshness.
With each step forward, the weather shifted unpredictably: chilling rain one moment, swirling snow the next, and even sudden hailstorms.
What had been plains moments ago morphed into dense forests or treacherous swamps, disorienting them. The terrain rose and fell chaotically, the climate erratic—a land inhospitable to human survival.
Yet it was humans who sought to conquer it with their own two feet.
“Enemies incoming!” Karen shouted.
Julia reacted instantly to her voice.
“Swift!”
In the moment she drew her sword, an approaching manticore was cleaved in two.
The manticore—a beast with a human face and a lion’s body, topped with a scorpion-like tail.
They craved human entrails but lacked fangs, instead using sharp claws to rip open bellies for feeding.
Though fangless, they bore human-like teeth, which were harvestable. These were often repurposed for dental fillings, false teeth, or even toothpaste ingredients.
“Not very agile, are they?”
Avoiding their claws was the key.
Ars relied on [Hearing] to pinpoint their movements, dodging attacks with ease.
He closed in on a manticore poised for its next strike—
“‘Diagnosis.’”
The spell activated, and information about the manticore vibrated through his eardrums.
Its anatomy materialized as an image in his mind.
Spotting its vital point, he thrust his dagger.
The move lacked finesse or any hint of martial training.
It was the clumsy stab of an amateur lunging forward.
Yet the blade sliced through skin and flesh effortlessly, striking true and ending the manticore’s life.
“Nice work, Ars! The hide can sell—try to keep it intact!” Karen praised, then pointed at Julia. “The problem’s Big Sis! Look, if you cut it in half, the hide’s ruined. Aim for the head next time, okay? You’re so clumsy in the weirdest ways.”
“Ugh… But I’m great at baking! I’m not clumsy!” Julia protested.
“Sure~ No need to explain. You’ll get the hang of it with practice—just keep taking them down,” Karen encouraged.
“O-Okay! Next time, I’ll go for the head!” Julia vowed.
“But wow, Big Sis, that swordplay was gorgeous. The hide’s toast, but the teeth are still good, and the magic stone’s intact, so don’t feel bad,” Karen added.
Magic stones resided near a beast’s heart.
The stronger the creature, the larger and more valuable the stone, judged by its clarity and size.
Magic stones had countless uses—crafting weapons, making cleansers, powering daily life. They were essential, but their most common application was enchanting magic.
Enchanting a stone required a magician with the [Enchantment] Talent.
Once imbued with magic, a magic stone becomes a “magical stone.”
However, to enchant it with a specific spell, a magician with the corresponding Talent must assist, making stones imbued with rare magic exceptionally costly.
Yet magical stones aren’t eternal—they can’t be used indefinitely.
Depending on the [Enchantment] magician’s skill, they might break after a single use or fail to work at all.
“Is that all of them dealt with?” Ars asked, scanning the area as the group began harvesting materials from the manticores.
“It’s hard to say. We haven’t seen any male manticores yet,” Karen replied.
“These are… females?” Ars asked, peering at the manticore at his feet. Honestly, he couldn’t tell the difference.
“Its eyes are rounder, and the lashes are longer. I think that’s the key to telling them apart,” Julia said, crouching beside him to examine the creature’s face.
“Big Sis, that’s totally wrong,” Karen corrected. “Manticore faces are all the same. The difference is in their size. Male manticores are about three times larger than the females.”
“So the males haven’t shown up yet?” Ars asked.
He used [Hearing] to probe for signs, but no similar beasts lingered nearby.
“Male manticores are timid by nature,” Karen explained. “They leave hunting to the females and only appear to protect their pack during turf wars with their own kind. Against humans, they won’t show themselves.”
“From the way you’re talking, their materials sound pretty valuable,” Ars noted.
“Oh, they are. One pelt goes for fifty Earth Empire gold coins. And their teeth are pure gold—if they’re intact, they could fetch over two hundred gold coins,” Karen said.
“Since they’re that valuable, should we try tracking them down?” Ars suggested.
“Nah, they’ve probably fled far by now,” Karen replied. “And while male manticores are timid, they’re way stronger than the females. Plus, it’s getting late—we’ll have to pass.”
Karen glanced up at the sky, squinting at the sun sinking toward the horizon.
“It’s almost dark. Let’s set up camp for the night,” she decided, heading over to Elsa, who was directing the Schüler.
The camp was established on an open plain with clear sightlines.
Staying at the manticore hunting site risked attracting other beasts with the scent of blood. And since the pack wasn’t fully wiped out, they might strike under cover of night. Moving away felt safer.
The Schüler with the orange-system [Earth] Talent took charge of building the camp.
With deft magic, they raised earthen walls, encircling the site with a defensive barrier.
Tents went up inside, torches were lit, and the setup began to resemble a fortress.
“If we’re attacked, will the walls alert us?” Ars asked, brushing a hand against the soil barrier and feeling a strong pulse of magic. Any strike would immediately notify its creators.
“Ars, dinner’s ready,” Julia called.
He turned to see her standing under the moonlight, her silver hair glowing softly.
“Got it. What’s on the menu tonight?” he asked.
“It’s Elsa’s turn to cook, so it should be something to look forward to,” Julia replied.
“Nice—I’m excited,” Ars said.
As he and Julia approached the gathering, Elsa was already portioning out the meal.
“Here you are. It’s a full-loaded rice bowl—I hope it suits your taste,” she said, handing over a large bowl of rice topped with a hefty fried cutlet.
“Wow, this looks delicious,” Ars said, eyes widening.
“Can I even finish this…?” Julia murmured uneasily.
“No worries if you can’t,” Elsa assured her with a straight face. “If it’s Lady Julia’s leftovers, someone will happily finish it with tears of gratitude.”
Julia fidgeted nervously as Elsa’s words drew several eager stares to her bowl—mostly from men, though Karen’s gaze burned the hottest.
Not wanting the food to cool, they chatted briefly before digging in.
Though he couldn’t identify the meat, the crispy coating gave it a satisfying texture, melting in his mouth with rich flavor.
“Elsa, this is amazing. What kind of meat is it?” Julia asked.
Elsa paused mid-bite to answer.
“It’s manticore meat stewed with its own blood, coated in troll fat steamed with herbs, then fried. I finished it with a drizzle of vitreous jelly squeezed from a cyclops’s eyeball. By the way, manticore heads are a delicacy among beastmen and some humans—rare to come by. The brain’s flavor is especially robust, a true gourmet treat.”
Several female Schüler and a few men spat out their food.
The revelation hit like a bombshell, prompting a few women to stand and confront Elsa.
“Elsa-san, what were you thinking?!”
“I ate a ton of it! What if there are weird parasites?!”
“I think it’s fine,” Elsa replied calmly. “Beastmen I know eat magical beasts all the time.”
“We’re humans! Don’t lump us in with a race that has iron stomachs!”
“But tossing it out would be a waste. And it’s tasty, right?”
“Well, yeah, it’s good…”
“Then there’s no issue,” Elsa said. “A great beastman once said, ‘If it tastes good, it’s not poisonous.’”
“That’s a beastman again! Different species! We’re not the same!”
“If you fuss over little details like that, you won’t survive in the Lost Lands,” Elsa countered.
“Ugh, it’s not a little detail! This is about life and death—the most important part!”
Even as they bickered, a faint air of cheer hung over the group.
Since no one stepped in to stop it, this must be a familiar scene.
And if Ars recalled correctly, that “great beastman” who claimed delicious food couldn’t be poisonous had died choking out praises while succumbing to magical beast toxins.
“Ars, I never thought those creatures could taste this good,” Julia said.
“Yeah…” Ars replied, glancing at her bowl. “Wait, you’ve already finished?”
Her bowl was spotless—not a single grain of rice remained.
“It was really delicious,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“That’s great to hear,” Ars replied.
Shifting his gaze from Julia’s contented expression, he caught Karen staring wistfully at her sister’s empty bowl. Judging by Karen’s own clean dish, she’d polished hers off too.
On one side, the women grilled Elsa; on the other, the princess-raised sisters savored their meal.
Comparing the two, Ars couldn’t tell which was the “normal” reaction anymore.
After dinner, the women headed off to bathe together, their camaraderie intact.
Apparently, they’d built a bathhouse alongside the camp’s walls, using magic to combine water and fire for hot water. That left only men at the site, and by the time Ars noticed, the male Schüler had gathered around him.
“Ars-san, word is you’ve seen Elsa-san and Lady Julia naked,” said a man named Banz, reeking of alcohol as he plopped down beside him.
“Who’d you hear that from?” Ars asked.
“From the Lehrer. So, is it true?” Banz pressed.
The Lehrer was the guildmaster—Karen.
With her flair for drama, she’d probably spun quite a tale.
“Yeah, I saw every inch of them. What about it?” Ars admitted with a shrug.
A wave of gasps rippled through the group.
“That’s insane… You’re a real man,” Banz said, awestruck.
“Well, yeah, I’m a guy. Isn’t that obvious?” Ars replied.
“No… I mean, I know that… You’re hilarious, Ars-san!” Banz laughed.
Ars just nodded at the obvious, baffled by what was so funny.
The men’s breathing grew heavy—likely from the booze—and their flushed faces started to grate on him.
“So, how was it?” Banz pressed.
“How was what?” Ars asked.
“Come on, Ars-san, don’t tease us! Your thoughts, obviously! On Elsa-san’s bod—Whoa!?” Banz yelped as he vanished from sight.
Ars watched him tumble across the ground, rolling out of the torchlight, before turning to the culprit who’d kicked him.
“Elsa, weren’t you bathing?” he asked.
“I had a bad feeling for some reason—Lady Karen said something odd, so I came to check,” Elsa explained.
“I see… You didn’t dry off first? Everything’s fine here—you should head back,” Ars suggested.
It was rare to see Elsa so breathless; she must’ve rushed over. Her hair dripped wet, and though clothed, she looked drenched, as if caught in rain.
Ars grabbed a towel and wiped a droplet from her cheek.
“…What are you doing?” she asked, startled.
“You’ll feel gross if you stay soaked,” he replied.
“T-Thank you,” she stammered.
“No problem. Better than catching a cold,” he said with a smile, moving to wipe her neck as her face flushed red.
“But instead of wiping, I think you’d be better off taking another bath,” he added.
“Y-You’re right. I’ll just—” Elsa began, but her words cut off.
Ars’s hand, towel and all, had slipped into her chest.
She froze, letting him wipe, but the sudden sensation against her bare, braless skin was too much. A faint gasp escaped her lips.
In that instant, a powerful grip seized Ars’s arm.
“Um, Ars-san… I appreciate your kindness, but others are watching, so you don’t need to wipe there. Besides, that angle must be awkward for you,” Elsa said.
His elbow pointed skyward, arm tilted, hand tucked into the gap in her clothes.
Luckily, the large towel and his back blocked the view—no one else could see her skin. But Ars had a clear line of sight, staring at her chest as he peeled the wet fabric away.
“It’d be easier to wipe if you were bare. Why not strip over there?” he suggested, nodding toward a tent.
Elsa nearly nodded before shaking her head frantically.
“N-No, I’ll go back to bathing. And that’s not something to say with a carefree smile,” she protested, gently pulling his hand from her chest.
“I’ll wash the towel and return it,” she added.
Pulling it out risked dragging her damp clothes with it, flipping them outward and exposing her skin.
“Alright, thanks,” Ars said.
The Schüler watched their exchange, tears streaming down their faces.
“Our Elsa-san… I can’t believe it’s gotten that far.”
“Ars-san… No, Master Ars is incredible. He’s won Elsa-san’s heart. And things look suspicious with the two beauties too. I wish he’d share his secrets.”
“Two days after meeting, and he’s already got Elsa-san… Damn him!”
The Schüler drowned their frustrations in beer, gulping it down in reckless abandon.
Elsa’s cool gaze settled on the rowdy bunch responsible for the commotion.
“Shouldn’t you all be on patrol? Stop drinking and get to it,” she said icily.
“Y-Yes, ma’am!”
“Hey, let’s move!”
Under her frigid stare, the Schüler scattered in all directions.
After watching them disperse, Elsa turned back to Ars.
“I’m going to bathe again. You’re on night watch next, right, Ars-san?”
“Yeah, so I can’t join you this time. Sorry about that,” he replied.
“Please don’t phrase it like we bathe together all the time,” she shot back.
The night breeze chilled her damp skin, and the Schüler’s prying had piled onto an already messy situation, prompting her curt response.
Realizing her tone, Elsa cleared her throat and tried again.
“Ah, don’t misunderstand—I’m not upset. We’ve already seen each other bare, so it’s fine. It’s just… bathing together during an expedition requires mental preparation. With others watching, and as someone in a leadership role, I can’t act so frivolously—it’d set a bad example.”
Her flustered explanation came with darting, unsteady eyes.
Ars flashed her an innocent smile.
“Got it. Since you put it that way, let’s bathe together back at headquarters. I’ll scrub your back,” he said breezily, unfazed.
Elsa exhaled in relief, though she couldn’t shake the odd promise she’d somehow been roped into.
Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure how it’d turned into her begging for it.
Learning from her slip, she chose her next words carefully.
“Ars-san… I’ve noticed your knowledge is strangely skewed in many areas. If you don’t learn properly, you’ll make a woman cry someday—even Lady Julia might not be spared. A man who can’t take responsibility must disembowel himself. Listen well: start by understanding the differences between men and women—Achoo!”
A tiny, adorable sneeze interrupted her lecture.
It was unexpected but somehow suited her perfectly.
“Let’s save the lesson for next time. You should go bathe again,” Ars suggested.
“…You’re right. We’ll discuss this—including future matters—later. Lingering like this might affect tomorrow’s condition,” she agreed.
Even catching a cold post-bath didn’t dim her bathing obsession—she could ramble about it endlessly.
Ars found that quirk utterly endearing.
Elsa, however, didn’t appreciate his fondness, pulling a sour face.
“I look forward to the day that smug grin of yours turns to embarrassment,” she muttered.
“Oh? I’m not sure what you mean, but I’m looking forward to it too,” he replied cheerfully.
“Then I’ll take my leave,” she said, offering a slight bow before heading back to the bathhouse.
Ars watched her go, then made his way to the earthen wall.
He opened a door built into it and peered out at the darkened plain.
“I knew something felt off,” he murmured.
Stepping boldly into the shadows, he suddenly thrust an arm skyward.
“‘Shock.’”
The moment he spoke, a manticore with a hole blasted through its body plummeted from the night sky.
“Revenge, or a different pack?” he wondered aloud.
Another manticore lunged from the brush, but Ars swung his dagger, its magic-sharpened edge severing its head in one stroke.
“Nine more—surrounded, huh? …Well, don’t think that gives you the upper hand,” he said.
Even in the dark, his [Hearing] tracked every sound, pinpointing the beasts’ numbers with precision.
“‘Feint.’”
An advanced form of ‘Shock,’ this spell wove a complex green-edged pattern into a magic circle overhead.
A gentle breeze brushed past, soft as a caress against his cheek.
But beneath its calm lay a chilling, lethal intent.
Heavy thuds echoed around him as the manticores dropped one by one—all eliminated.
No—
“I heard male manticores were timid… but you didn’t run,” Ars said.
The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, casting its light across the plain and revealing a hulking figure.
A male manticore, its body three times the size of the females.
Its lion-like frame bore a human-esque face that hovered eerily in the dark.
Pale as a corpse, its lips curved into a grin, flashing golden teeth.
“Better not interrupt the ladies’ bath,” Ars warned. “I hear it’s their healing sanctuary.”
Gripping his daggers with both hands, his lips curled into a crescent moon smile.
“So let’s keep this quiet.”
His grin sharpened with an edge of menace, a cold aura radiating outward.
The moon slipped back behind the clouds, its faint light snuffed out as darkness reclaimed the night.
The pale, human-like face hovering in the thick darkness melted away into the shadows.
The manticore was poised to strike.
Ars sharpened his focus. Tilting his head, he relied on [Hearing] to pinpoint the manticore’s position.
With lightning speed, he swung his arm in a slashing motion—a scream pierced the air.
A shallow gash from his dagger marred the manticore’s cheek.
The wounded beast, resentment flashing across its face, retreated once more into the dark.
“Hey, hiding again? There’s a limit to cowardice, you know,” Ars taunted.
Relaxing his stance, he spread his arms wide, feigning vulnerability.
“Come on, timid manticore king, let me feel your strength.”
His cheerful tone barely faded before a massive force slammed into him, hurling him to the ground.
He braced himself with his hands, springing back up while brushing dirt from his clothes and assessing his condition.
“Looks like its defense rivaling mithril isn’t an exaggeration,” he muttered.
Per Karen’s explanation, the casual outfit’s magic conductivity was second only to a robe. In the hands of a skilled magic manipulator, its durability could match mithril. That spoke to the craftsmanship, piquing Ars’s curiosity about its maker.
“It didn’t hurt as much as Karen’s slap, but it still stings. Is it just not fully shockproof, or do I need to refine my magic quality further?” he mused.
Pondering, a sudden idea sparked, and he looked up.
“Hit me again. I’ve got something I want to try.”
Unsure if his intent carried across, Ars flashed a provocative grin, extending a hand toward the manticore’s direction and beckoning with a flick of his fingers.
A faster, more devastating blow roared in from the side.
Yet Ars stood unfazed.
Using [Hearing] to sense the attack, he’d preemptively channeled magic to the impact zone.
“The magic drain’s intense… but this seems to work,” he noted.
The beast’s sharp claws pierced into the fabric but left no tear.
Two hits, and still unscathed. The outfit’s durability exceeded expectations.
“I’ve heard beastmen can apply this trick directly to their skin—talk about unfair… Wait, can humans do it too? I could test it here, but maybe I’ll save it for a stronger foe…”
The male manticore was weaker than he’d anticipated. At this level, he couldn’t hope for more significant results. Ars sighed, genuinely disappointed.
“I had high hopes… but it’s not strong enough for Karen to warn us about. Is it not a male? Or just individual variation?”
He nearly sank into thought, but a surge of killing intent snapped him back to the moment.
“Sorry for ignoring you. This isn’t what I’d heard. I’m a bit thrown off,” he said.
The manticore peered at him from the shadows, growing wary after two failed strikes.
“You’re tired of waiting, huh? Time to give you some attention,” Ars said, his voice laced with faint killing intent—clear and deliberate.
In the dark, the manticore’s massive frame trembled with fear.
It chose flight.
Faced with an unbeatable foe, a being far beyond its power, primal instinct drove it to flee.
Male manticores were timid and intelligent, avoiding fights they couldn’t win.
But the destruction of its pack, the violation of its territory, and the pride of a leader had briefly ignited its fighting spirit.
That resolve lasted only until it grasped Ars’s strength—now, pride was gone.
It ran solely to survive.
“‘Muddle.’”
The manticore’s hulking body and its remarkable speed faltered abruptly.
Roaring did no good; even pouring all its strength into its legs, it couldn’t budge.
Losing balance, the male manticore crashed to the ground, thrashing in desperation.
But it was futile. Still, it fought to live.
Until he approached—
“Sorry about this. Your materials fetch a good price, so I’ll try not to damage you,” Ars said, his gentle tone chillingly eerie.
Though the manticore couldn’t grasp the words, it sensed its end.
So it ceased its graceless struggle.
Like a king of the plains, it awaited the hunter with regal dignity.
Its hollow eyes gazed up at Ars looming above.
“You’ve accepted death? Worthy of a pack leader—clean and resolute. I’ll let you sleep without pain,” Ars said.
He pointed a fingertip at the manticore.
“‘Sound of Death.’”
With that single gesture, the manticore stopped breathing, as if drifting into slumber.
“Now, how do I haul this back…?” Ars wondered.
Leaving it here risked other beasts scavenging it.
He’d have to fetch help from camp. But as he turned, he caught a sound and glanced back—several torchlights flickered from the camp’s direction.
“Ars! Are you okay?!”
Julia emerged first. Perhaps from worry, her face was pale, but seeing him unharmed seemed to ease her tension. She pressed a hand to her chest, steadying her breath.
“Manticores! Be careful—there might be more!”
“Are these things stalking us?”
The Schüler trailing Julia gasped in shock at the sight of the manticore’s corpse.
Once the commotion settled, Ars spoke up.
“Why are you here, Julia?”
“The manticore’s roar reached the camp…” she explained.
“Oh… Right,” Ars said, scratching the back of his head with a wry smile. He’d forgotten his plan to take it down quietly midway through.
“Huh? Isn’t this a male manticore?”
Ars followed the voice and saw Karen crouching beside the beast, her eyes wide with surprise.
“I sensed something odd, so I came out to check—and then this guy attacked me,” Ars explained.
“Oh~ And you took it down solo? You’re always pulling off the unbelievable,” Karen said, impressed.
“Forget that—are you hurt?” Julia asked, her delicate fingers brushing over Ars’s body, inspecting him under the torchlight. Her cold, wind-chilled hands slipped through gaps in his clothes, sending a shiver through his shoulders and a ticklish sensation that made him squirm.
“N-No way! Your shoulder’s bruised!” she exclaimed.
“Julia, calm down. It’s not a big deal,” Ars reassured her.
It was likely from the male manticore’s first strike.
“Healer! Treat him immediately!” Julia ordered.
“Big Sis is so overprotective~ For something that minor, a little spit would fix it. Why don’t you lick it for him, Big Sis?” Karen teased.
“Karen, this isn’t the time for jokes. My spit doesn’t heal anything. Even a bruise can become a serious issue if ignored,” Julia snapped.
The sisters began to bicker, but before it escalated, a female healer arrived.
“Here I am~ Lady Julia, what’s your command?” she chirped.
“Ars has a bruise on his shoulder—can you treat it?” Julia asked.
“Of course. Let’s see~… Oh, yep. It’s about the size of a pinky,” the healer confirmed.
“W-Will it heal?” Julia pressed.
“Naturally! At this level, it’ll vanish completely in two or three days,” the healer replied.
“Two or three days? That’s awful! Please use healing magic on him right away,” Julia insisted.
“Um, I don’t think that’s necess—”
“Please use healing magic now.”
“But it’s really not—”
“Please heal him.”
The healer stiffened under Julia’s enigmatic pressure, snapping to attention with a salute.
“Yes, ma’am! I’ll heal him with all I’ve got!” she declared.
“Sorry about this,” Ars said with an apologetic smile.
The healer shrugged it off.
“Don’t worry. There’s no more fighting tonight, so using some magic won’t hurt,” she said, placing her hand on his bruise.
“Winds of departure, clouds afar, thou art the lamenter of pain, I the reliever of suffering,” she chanted.
A small white magic circle glowed beneath her hand.
“And so I will—‘Heal.’”
“That’s impressive,” Ars remarked.
The pinky-sized bruise faded to normal skin instantly, the pain vanishing with it.
“Piece of cake. But if it’s too mangled to retain its shape, there’s no fixing it,” the healer explained.
“Really? I thought even near-death states could be healed. With things like ‘panaceas’ out there, I figured magic could do it too,” Ars said.
The healer blinked, then burst into cheerful laughter.
“Hahaha! Ars-san, you’re a riot. Near-death? Even a ‘panacea’ can’t save that. Magic? Absolutely impossible. If such a spell existed, it’d be in the realm of the gods. And even then, no human’s magic reserves could handle it—not even the Demon Lords or Holy Celestials could pull off something that absurd,” she said, chuckling as she patted his shoulder for a final check.
“All good now. Anywhere else hurt?”
“Nope, I’m fine. Thanks for the help,” Ars replied.
“My pleasure. Call me if you need anything,” she said, waving as she left.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Julia called after her.
No sooner had the healer departed than Elsa emerged from the darkness.
“Lady Karen, there are ten female manticore corpses. How should we handle them?” she asked.
“Hmm~ Let me think. Leaving them like this could be risky~” Karen mused, lifting her gaze from inspecting the male manticore.
As the two conversed, Ars suddenly pulled Julia into an embrace.
“W-Wah… A-Ars? What’s this all of a sudden?” she stammered.
“It’s fine. Don’t move,” he said calmly.
With his left arm around her waist, he pressed their bodies closer.
“E-Eh?”
Julia’s bewildered yelp dissipated in the wind as Ars slid his right arm around her back, deftly lifting her skirt and slipping his hand inside.
“Um… Ah, does it have to be here? At least somewhere else—!?”
Though Julia voiced her confusion, her tone carried a hint of allure as her personal space was breached.
She didn’t resist despite her bewilderment, likely due to her complete trust in Ars.
His hand roamed her thigh as if caressing it, searching for its target. Sweet, soft breaths reached his ears, but he remained unfazed.
“Uh… What are you even doing?”
Karen gaped in disbelief while Elsa, stunned, covered her eyes—though curiosity won out, and her blue eyes peeked through her fingers.
“Found it. Julia, let me borrow this,” Ars said.
He seized the object—a throwing knife—and flung it with lightning speed.
The projectile vanished into the darkness.
A heavy thud followed moments later.
“Wah!? This thing’s still alive… Wait, it’s dead? How?”
“Hey, don’t approach it in the dark without light!”
“Manticores are good at playing dead, so be careful…”
The Schüler’s chatter drifted over on the wind.
Having averted a crisis at the last second, Ars let out a relieved breath.
“One got away without being fully dealt with. Still, didn’t I throw that pretty well?” he asked, beaming innocently at Julia.
She gave him a look tinged with exasperation.
“…If that’s what it was, you should’ve just told me. I wouldn’t have refused, so please give me a heads-up next time,” she said.
“The Schüler didn’t seem to notice, so I figured I had to act fast,” Ars explained.
Realizing he still held her, he released Julia.
As she smoothed her disheveled skirt, she tilted her head curiously.
“But how did you know I had a weapon hidden under my skirt?”
“Because I’ve got ‘good ears,’” Ars replied. “I heard the friction and knew you were carrying something.”
“I see… That makes sense. I’ll show you where I keep my weapons later, then. Guessing by instinct could get you hurt, so knowing their exact spots is important,” she offered.
“If you’re okay with me using them going forward, seeing them later would be a big help,” he said.
“Then I’ll show you after. And Karen, it might be wise to thoroughly check the manticores’ life signs,” Julia added, her voice cool and composed, as if the earlier incident never happened.
“Got it. Man, I don’t know if those two are just clueless or what, but they sure keep me on edge,” Karen said, slumping her shoulders with a tired sigh before rallying herself.
“…Leaving the bodies here could attract more beasts, and it’d be a shame if they got eaten,” she noted.
“Then we’ll have to haul them back to camp,”
“Elsa’s right,” Karen said. “Come on, you lot—stop standing around and get these back to camp for dismantling.”
The Schüler, who’d been inspecting the corpses, groaned—especially the women.
“Ugh~… We just bathed!”
“Staying up late is gonna ruin my skin!”
“Alright, alright, no whining. You can bathe again later. Work hard, and I’ll bump up your pay—use it to buy skincare stuff,” Karen said, clapping her hands to spur them on.
Reluctantly, the women began prepping the manticores for transport.
“By the way, Ars, you’ve done it again. Taking down a male manticore solo? That’s no small feat. Even an A-rank magician would struggle to do it alone,” Karen praised.
“I didn’t think it was that strong… Guess I just got lucky,” Ars said modestly, unused to the acclaim, his hand brushing the earring on his left ear.
Julia’s sharp eyes caught the gesture.
“You did that when we escaped together too—touching that earring,” she observed.
“Yeah… It’s kind of a habit,” Ars admitted.
As Julia noted, he was aware of his tendency to fidget with it.
“I can sense faint magic… Is it a magical artifact?” she asked.
“Yeah, though it doesn’t do much. It’s a keepsake from my late mother,” he explained.
As a child, he’d been terrified of the sounds [Hearing] picked up.
Confined and with a frail mother he rarely saw, he had no one to turn to, living in constant fear of noise. Unable to bear it, she’d infused the earring with magic and given it to him as a protective charm.
Thanks to it, he felt her presence nearby. When frightened by sounds, touching the earring calmed him. It became a habit—a way to steady himself.
“It must have some effect. Your mother’s surely with you. When you touch it, your expression gets so gentle,” Julia said warmly.
“Does it?” Ars asked.
Julia’s words rang true to her, but the earring held no real power.
Even if his mother lingered as a spirit, Ars’s [Hearing] would never miss her ‘sound.’ Since it didn’t, she’d gone to a place beyond even sound’s reach.
Yet Julia’s face showed no trace of deceit.
She had a strange power—making you believe it might be true.
“If Julia says so, then I guess it’s so,” Ars conceded.
“Yep, because I said it, it’s definitely true,” she affirmed.
Her silver hair shimmered softly under the moonlight, glowing like her radiant smile.
＊
Today marked Ars’s second day journeying through the Lost Lands.
Just moments ago, the sky had been shrouded in dark, oppressive clouds, heavy as nightfall, but now it cleared, bathing the land in brilliant sunlight.
In this crisp air, lunchtime had arrived.
Everyone ate at their preferred spots, with Ars joined by the beautiful sister duo and the sharp-witted beauty.
“Thanks to Ars-san, we’ve gathered more than enough materials. It’s already beyond three days’ worth. Should we head back?” Elsa asked, prompting Karen to decide.
Karen paused mid-bite, her gaze drifting upward as she considered.
“Let’s see… The male manticore was a huge haul, the manticore pack’s wiped out, and we’ve got cyclopes, trolls, kobolds, and mermen left,” she said, counting off the vanquished beasts on her fingers before glancing toward the riverbank, where a freshly slain merman lay.
Its body was clad in deep green scales, its belly a fish-like white.
Some mermen bore spots or stripes, resembling oversized fish at a glance.
Their skulls were often crafted into lucky charms, their scales forged into armor, and their fins made a fine drinking snack.
Their flesh was a delicacy too—today’s lunch was merman sashimi over rice.
“Are we nearing the luggage capacity limit?” Karen asked.
Elsa nodded.
“Probably one or two more hunts, and we’ll be full,” she estimated.
“Then pushing further would just waste materials,” Karen concluded.
Arms crossed, her well-shaped chest pressed and shifted as she pondered, her bangs casting shadows over ruby-red eyes.
“Alright, I’ve decided. Tell the Schüler to pack up after lunch—we’re heading back,” she declared.
“Understood. I’ll inform the others,” Elsa said, rising to relay the orders.
Karen watched her go, then turned her red gaze to Ars and the others.
“I assume you heard we’re returning. Anything left undone?” she asked.
“Nope. I’m excited to come back to the Lost Lands,” Julia replied.
“That’s good to hear. What about you, Ars?” Karen prompted.
“I’m fine too. I’ve confirmed a lot already,” he said.
“Great. Then this expedition’s a success. Sorry to cut it short, but let’s head back,” Karen concluded.
Around them, the Schüler began prepping for the return journey.
A few worked together, tracing a magic circle into the ground.
Though it looked like scribbles, the design was intricate and precise, sinking deep into the earth. Aside from the subtle discord of being etched in the grass’s shadow, it resembled a work of art.
“…Using a magical stone?” Ars asked.
Even without a Talent, magic could be wielded with raw magical energy.
A magician with [Enchantment] could imbue a stone with magic, allowing Talentless individuals to cast spells. But advanced magic like ‘Teleportation’ required a circle.
“So we step into that circle and use a ‘Teleportation’-enchanted stone to get back?” Ars guessed.
“That’s the gist… but it’s a bit different. This one’s for next time,” Karen clarified.
Teleportation circles served two purposes: departure and return.
For either, the destination needed its own circle.
They were leaving this one to mark a starting point for future adventures.
“So it’s like a gateway,” Ars mused.
“Why draw it in such a hidden spot?” Julia asked.
“To keep latecomers from wrecking it,” Karen explained. “Some folks want to monopolize hunting grounds. Finding another guild’s circle, they’ll destroy it—it’s common practice now.”
Her shrug and sigh suggested they’d faced this before.
“I’ve got a question. Couldn’t we have skipped starting from Dragon City for this trip?” Ars ventured.
Surely this wasn’t their first time drawing a teleportation circle.
Logically, they’d leave one each time they returned from an expedition.
If so, Ars figured starting from a familiar spot might’ve been better than launching from the entrance like this time.
“That’d work, but it’s your and Big Sis’s first trip to the Lost Lands, right? We needed you to get a feel for the place first. Dropping you straight into our usual hunting grounds—if something went wrong, it’d be a mess,” Karen explained.
“Sorry for making you go out of your way,” Ars said.
“I’ve told you a million times—no need to be so polite. Oh, and here—take this,” Karen said, handing him a ring embedded with a magical stone.
“It’s got ‘Teleportation’ magic in it. The ring’s engraved with return coordinates. Without it, the circle won’t activate, so don’t lose it,” she warned.
Looking again at the Schüler’s ground-etched circle, Ars noticed the guild’s emblem, coordinates, and elaborate patterns.
A safeguard, no doubt, to ensure only ring-bearers could use it.
“I’m not part of your guild—is this okay? Stuff like this is usually for members only, right?” Ars asked.
“It’s fine. You’ve helped us out a ton—including with Big Sis and Elsa,” Karen said with a cryptic laugh.
＊
Meanwhile, near Pluton City, on the outskirts of the Earth Empire…
Orpheus Zu Meganbrook swayed atop his horse.
Behind him, ten thousand cavalry marched in tight formation, advancing under a stern, disciplined air.
Virg, the elf, rode up beside the grim-faced Orpheus.
“Has Lord Orpheus ever visited the Magic City?” Virg asked.
“A few times,” Orpheus replied.
Before his eyes loomed the towering silhouette of a colossal spire piercing the clouds.
It was the heart of the world—a nexus of diverse Talents and a treasury of magical wisdom.
Yet for someone tied to the Holy Church, especially one of the Ten Holy Celestials like Virg, the world’s high regard for the Magic Association was less than amusing.
Even so, the Babel Tower’s aura of majesty and the weight of history it bore were undeniable.
“It’s truly another world. Has Lord Virg ever been?” Orpheus asked.
“Regrettably, no. Holy Church policy has kept me away,” Virg said with a wry smile, though his demeanor suggested little genuine regret.
“The Church has long had precious things stolen by the Magic Association… If I were to visit the Magic City, it’d be to settle scores with the Demon Lords,” he added.
“Stolen… You mean the Magic Emperor?” Orpheus ventured.
The relationship between the Holy Church and the Magic Association was tangled, its roots stretching back to their founding.
“It’s fine in front of me… but for your own sake, avoid calling him the ‘Magic Emperor’ around the other Holy Celestials,” Virg advised.
Though framed as a warning, displeasure flickered unmistakably across his refined features.
The Holy Church’s aversion to the title mirrored Virg’s reaction—it was taboo.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Still, you should visit the Magic City sometime, my lord. It’s worthy of being called the world’s center. The first time I saw it, I was genuinely awestruck,” Orpheus said.
“Is that so? That explains why your territory’s layout differs from other towns. Did you model it after the Magic City?” Virg asked.
As Virg noted, Pluton City had indeed been built in imitation of the Magic City.
But ideals and reality rarely aligned—mimicry didn’t guarantee equal results.
The tower where Ars had been confined stood as a symbol of that failure. Modeled after the Babel Tower, it fell laughably short. Feeling his shame exposed, Orpheus moved to shift the topic.
“Anyway, more importantly—is this really alright?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” Virg replied.
“Lord Albert made the call, sure, but he’s mobilized the Shtede Guild without authorization. If this plan fails, you’ll take heat too,” Orpheus pointed out.
“That won’t happen. This is purely Albert’s overreach. I’ll explain it sincerely to His Majesty, and I’m confident he’ll understand,” Virg assured him.
The source of his confidence was unclear, but the smile plastered on his face dismissed Orpheus’s concerns as trivial. Suspicious as it was, Orpheus had no choice but to trust him.
Just then, the man in question approached.
“It’s almost time. If Lord Virg’s strategy goes smoothly, Princess Julia will be ours,” orpheus said.
“It all hinges on the Shtede Guild’s performance,” Virg replied, resting a hand on his chin in thought.
“I’m genuinely curious to see how it plays out. Even with tricks, the outcome’s uncertain,” he added.
Orpheus blinked in surprise at Virg’s rare humility.
“Are you saying we might lose? Even with you, a Holy Celestial, here?” he asked.
“I’m not saying we’ll lose… but as for the latter, I can be clear. I have opponents I can’t beat. Though I’m one of the Ten Holy Celestials, I’m only the ‘Ninth Apostle.’ My strength’s suited for errands like this,” Virg said, squinting dazzlingly at the sky with a faint smile.
“Even so, I can’t suppress my curiosity. We’re up against two legends, after all,” he continued.
“Two legends?” Orpheus echoed, puzzled.
Virg’s expression brightened with delight as he explained.
“You’ve likely heard of one—the ‘White Yaksha’ who annihilated the Earth Empire’s Second Legion. Fifty thousand soldiers’ heads lopped off by a single adorable girl. Most were Talentless grunts, granted, but she’s a white-system wielder—truly a point of pride,” he said.
A single magician had dealt the empire an unprecedented blow.
The Second Legion had indeed fallen to a lone girl, though many died in the ensuing panic, killing each other. That undeniable fact had exposed Princess Julia to the Holy Church. In their haste to escort her, the empire blundered, letting her escape.
Now, the Holy Church had stepped in, leading to this mess.
“Princess Julia may seem naive, but her strength is formidable. Our ‘First Seat’ barely beat her one-on-one, and her desperate resistance left several magicians with [Barrier] and [Seal] Talents crippled,” Albert said, crossing his arms expertly atop his horse and nodding sagely.
“And the other legend?” Orpheus pressed.
“The ‘Essence of Magic,’ of course,” Virg replied.
He felt the gentle spring breeze, his gaze settling once more on the Babel Tower.
“Since I’ve come to this nauseating place, I hope it’s the real deal,” he murmured.
His voice dipped low, sending a chill down Orpheus’s spine, yet his face softened as if admiring flowers.
＊
At the Lantern Sisters, the Schüler were prepping the shop for opening.
A young girl surveyed the freshly cleaned interior.
Gretia wiped sweat from her brow, nodding in satisfaction.
“This should keep Elsa-san from scolding me,” she said.
Elsa, one of the guild’s three top officers, single-handedly managed both guild operations and the tavern.
Elsa was hailed as one of the two great beauties of the Virte Guild—a woman flawless in every regard.
Julia and Karen were stunning too, but they were dubbed the guild’s two great beauties of youth.
Gretia didn’t quite grasp the distinction, but the male Schüler insisted it mattered deeply—likely some tedious metric from a male perspective.
“Speaking of Elsa-san, it seems she’s taken a shine to someone,” a colleague said.
Gretia froze, speechless with shock.
Elsa’s beauty rivaled that of the elves, yet she’d never been linked to any rumors of romance.
Men often approached her on the street, some even proposing, but she brushed them all off without a glance. A few creeps thrilled at her icy rejections, but she never once relented.
“You see, Ars-san—the guy who came with Lady Julia—seems to be the one,” the colleague added.
“That guy… Elsa-san’s crush?” Gretia echoed.
She’d met Ars already.
When he first visited the tavern, it was Gretia who’d brought him a chair.
They’d only exchanged brief pleasantries since, but he’d left a decent impression.
Honestly, though, whether he was worthy of Elsa was questionable—his carefree, almost scruffy vibe was too pronounced for Gretia to judge yet.
“But isn’t Ars-san really close with Lady Julia too?” another Schüler piped up, ears perked for gossip.
Once that happened, the crowd of gossip-lovers started to swell.
“Oh, now that you mention it, Elsa-san was staring out the hallway window earlier, looking all melancholy,” someone noted.
“Is she upset because she sees Lady Julia as a rival?” another speculated.
Excited squeals and heavy breathing filled the air as the discussion heated up.
Everyone adored these topics—especially when they involved Elsa and Julia.
Gretia didn’t mind either, but she found secondhand rumors unreliable.
“Hmm… Who’d you hear that from?” she asked.
“Lady Karen,” came the reply.
The moment the source was named, Gretia’s doubts evaporated into calm certainty.
That made it instantly dubious. Karen had a knack for exaggeration.
While it probably wasn’t all lies, taking her words at face value was a recipe for chaos.
“Hey, listen up—the expedition team’s coming back today. I just got a ‘Message’ spell confirming it,” a newer colleague interjected.
Gretia tilted her head, puzzled.
“…That was fast. Did something happen?”
“They said the results are worth looking forward to,” the colleague replied.
“Maybe they found a rare magical artifact or spellbook,” someone guessed.
“…I’m jealous. We’re stuck on guard duty, so no pay for us, huh?” Gretia sighed.
The male Schüler joined the huddle, drawn by the chatter.
Just then, the bell at the shop’s entrance jingled.
All eyes snapped toward the familiar sound.
“Phew~ It’s so hot during the day~”
Framed in the doorway stood a Schüler on maternity leave after recently giving birth.
Michida, a plump woman with the standard Talent [Cooking], handled the tavern’s kitchen duties.
She was like the bold, motherly heart of the Virte Guild, adored by all.
Everyone affectionately called her Michi.
“Michi-nee, what brings you here today?” Gretia asked.
“A friend gave me way too many veggies, so I brought some to share. We can eat together. But wow, it’s hot today~” Michida said, setting a large sack on the table as sweat dripped from her round chin.
“Thanks, Michi-nee! They all look so fresh and tasty,” Gretia said, peering into the bag before offering her gratitude.
Michida grinned cheerfully.
“No need to thank me. Anyway, I’ll be back to work soon—hope you’ll all look out for me,” she said.
“That’s a huge help, but shouldn’t you rest more? Let your husband—Mr. Banz—pick up the slack,” Gretia suggested.
“That guy… He’s too weak to earn much,” Michida said bluntly.
Truth be told, Banz ranked near the bottom of the Virte Guild’s fighters. Past his prime with no room to grow, he wasn’t cut out for greatness. Still, his sunny personality and knack for looking after others earned him the admiration of the younger male Schüler.
“Mr. Banz drinks too much—that’s why his aim’s off when he swings,” Gretia said, half-defending him.
She didn’t particularly like Banz, though.
For one, his lecherous stares often lingered on her chest. Plus, he’d once plotted to lead the guys in a peeping scheme on the women’s bathhouse.
That plan got nipped in the bud by Elsa, who’d caught and punished him.
Recalling these incidents, a question struck Gretia.
Even among men, Ars never ogled her chest. Maybe that self-control was what captivated the impregnable, icy fortress Elsa and the silver-haired, magical angel Julia.
(Probably because he’s got no lust in him—that’s what makes him tricky.)
His heart was pure, untainted by the world’s filth, as if raised in the most pristine environment.
That purity disarmed people, blurring their sense of distance.
Yet if you let your guard down, he’d suddenly close in, exuding raw masculinity that hit like an emotional thunderbolt—only to pull back with nothing more, leaving you reeling as if mocked by his retreat.
If this were a calculated act, he’d be a master lecher beyond reckoning.
(Still, he does have this vibe you can’t just ignore… He’s a boy who really draws attention, doesn’t he?)
On closer thought, Ars might differ from other men—a youth cloaked in mysterious allure.
Even if his ragged attire nearly fooled you, he had a quality that made you look twice—
“I’ve scolded him plenty, but he never learns,” Michida’s voice said, yanking Gretia from her sea of musings.
Gretia offered a wry smile and peeked at the baby cradled in Michida’s arms.
“Little Kizu’s asleep, huh?” she said.
“She was awake earlier. Can’t believe she’s napping in this heat,” Michida replied.
The heat probably hit Michida harder due to her build—but Gretia, ever tactful, kept that to herself, smiling past the topic.
“She’s adorable. She must take after you, Michi-nee,” Gretia said.
Like her carefree streak… Gretia, still tactful, muttered that only in her head.
As she gently poked the baby’s cheek, the shop’s bell chimed, signaling a visitor.
A tall man in a robe stepped inside.
His hood cast his face in deep shadow, obscuring his features.
“Pardon me. Is this the Virte Guild’s base, Lantern Sisters?” he asked.
His low voice reverberated through the silent shop.
Such attire wasn’t rare in the Magic City.
But the suspicious aura he exuded put everyone on edge.
“That’s right… but sorry, we’re not open yet,” Gretia replied.
“I’m not a customer. I’m here to fetch a few people—or rather, just that baby will do,” he said.
He pointed at the child in Michida’s arms, a warped grin twisting his face.
“What do you want with a baby? Depending on your answer, the Virte Guild will consider you an enemy,” Gretia warned, stepping forward with her trusty broom to shield Michida.
“What a dim woman. We want to be enemies,” he sneered.
“Are you insane? The Magic Association encourages guild rivalry, but unapproved duels are forbidden. You can’t complain if your guild gets disbanded over this,” she shot back.
“Please, do show us,” he taunted.
He took a step closer, and Gretia snapped her broom up, aiming it at him.
“One more step, and this shop will use full force to eject you,” she threatened.
“Hmm… Then I’ll use full force to take the baby,” he replied.
The moment he spoke, a swarm of magicians shattered the glass wall, storming in.
“Tell your Lehrer this,” he said.
The magicians behind him began chanting.
“We’re the Shtede Guild. I’m Kagis, Lehrer of the guild and fourth-tier ‘Seat,’” he declared.
Magic circles flared, flooding the dim shop with light.
“Just a little greeting—”
Multiple spells erupted in the cramped space.
“—Die.”
It happened too fast—Gretia could only stare, frozen.
But the baby’s cry jolted her awake, her face sharpening with resolve.
“—Michi-nee, get down!”
The swelling magic squeezed the air, unleashing a ferocious tornado in an instant.
The wind roared with unstoppable fury, flames surged forth, and the world buckled under devastation as deafening explosions tore through the surroundings.
——.
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