Chapter 13 - Recipe (3)

The knights who went on reconnaissance reported that they found no traces.

Popper's expression darkened upon receiving the report.

"The situation doesn't look good."

He seemed to be predicting that the ghoul had rejoined its group.

"Search thoroughly, focusing on gardens, open spaces, and areas with loose soil in the village."

All the roads in the village were carefully paved with stones, so it didn't seem easy to find a place where a ghoul could dig in.

The knights were divided into several groups and dispersed in all directions.

Damian and Silveryn joined Popper's search group. Four knights were following behind them.

The knights occasionally glanced at Damian while surveying the surroundings on horseback.

It was understandable, as he was riding the horse while clinging to Silveryn.

Silveryn had said they needed to stay close to protect him from ghoul attacks, but thinking about it now, it would have been better to walk, even if it meant risking having flesh torn off by a ghoul.

Damian spoke in a small voice, "Teacher."

"Yes?"

"Can I walk instead?"

"No."

Silveryn firmly cut off his request.

The stares were so intense that it was difficult to concentrate on searching for the ghoul.

The search continued for an hour. No traces were found, and Popper's expression grew somewhat darker.

If they couldn't find the ghoul this time, they would have to gather more troops to build a defense line for the entire village in preparation for an attack. It was bound to be burdensome, as resources for defense would be higher than subjugation, trade would shrink, and residents would have to live in constant anxiety.

During the move, something caught Damian's attention.

"...?"

It was a house with a very familiar shape. Most of it was hidden by a wall, but as they got closer and its form became clear, Damian could be certain.

A two-story house made of red bricks.

It was the mansion he had encountered in his dream.

Why is that here?

Silveryn noticed Damian's fixed gaze and found it strange.

"What's wrong?"

What should he say? Would she believe him if he said he saw that house in a dream? In his dream, there were only books and bookshelves. There were no images or hints directly related to the ghoul.

Silveryn might believe him, but if he suddenly said he wanted to enter someone else's house because he saw it in a dream, the knights would view it negatively.

Damian was in a position where he couldn't act recklessly. If he stepped out of line and caused problems, it could tarnish Silveryn's reputation for having him as a disciple, so he had to observe the situation for now.

"It's nothing."

The knights in the search group that Joyce joined were discussing Archmage Silveryn.

Judging by their leisurely chatting, they didn't seem to be taking the ghoul problem seriously. They thought of it merely as an event to gain merit.

Joyce couldn't join in carelessly and just quietly listened to their chatter.

"I was surprised. When I only heard rumors, I thought she was an old hag."

"Why would you think of an old hag when they say she's the youngest professor?"

"Even if she's the youngest Eternia professor, I thought she'd be at least forty or fifty."

"Hey, hey, if there's such a pretty old hag, tell her to come out. I'll take her away."

"I've never seen someone who looks like that in my life. Is it because I live in the countryside that my standards are low?"

"More than that, I can't believe someone with a face that looks like it hasn't suffered at all subjugated an Inferno Golem."

Berelman jokingly warned them, "Watch your mouths. If you get caught talking like this, you'll all be burned at the stake, ya bastards."

Berelman, a senior knight, spoke to Joyce, "Hey, what do you think? She might become your future professor."

Joyce knew. Even if he entered the academy, Silveryn was a professor in the Magic Department, and he would be in the Combat Department, so there wouldn't be much interaction except for some collaborative classes.

However, what bothered him was...

"I'm curious about the skills of that so-called disciple."

Recommendation letters were only given to the best talents.

In terms of swordsmanship, he had never seen anyone more talented than himself. Although his talent had only been tested within Wiesel, he was confident he wouldn't lose to anyone his age.

Yet Silveryn, who was rooted in the Wiesel region, wrote a recommendation letter for someone around Joyce's age.

It was strangely hurtful to Joyce's pride. Although he didn't say it, he believed that as the best talent in Wiesel, he too deserved to have his name on a recommendation letter.

Another senior knight, Volk, chimed in, "Ah, that delicate-looking friend?" Then he continued, "Isn't he going into magic? He's a mage's disciple. Looking at him, he doesn't seem to have suffered at all."

"He's carrying a sword. What mage uses a sword? The wear on the scabbard and handle, he's clearly someone who uses a sword."

He uses a sword?

A small spark ignited in Joyce's heart.

Going to Eternia Academy for swordsmanship. And with much better conditions than himself.

Volk said with a smirk, "Ah, did you see that? Hehehe, riding the horse snuggled up in her arms. Looks like he's got it made."

The knights started snickering at those words.

"Why is she raising him like some precious child?"

The knights added one by one.

"Who knows? Maybe she took him as a disciple after receiving a request from nobility or royalty. Otherwise, why would she cherish him so much?"

"Hey, watch what you say."

"No, seriously. If she wrote a recommendation letter, he must be an incredible genius. But from what I saw, he doesn't look that genius-like."

"How can you tell without seeing it?"

Volk said with an arrogant attitude, "You can tell at a glance."

Joyce was also inwardly agreeing with their words to some extent. Silveryn had taken a sword-wielding boy as her disciple and put his name on a recommendation letter. Yet she had made this decision without stopping by the local Knight Order to look at other talents.

There must have been an improper request, or she failed to discover a better raw talent.

Berelman patted Joyce's shoulder and said, "Show off your skills this time. Who knows? If you cut down more ghouls, she might take notice."

It was a casually thrown remark, but it had weight to it.

This subjugation team could be an opportunity for Joyce.

If he could crush that guy with skill. If he could show overwhelming superiority in skill in front of everyone.

If he could create a justification for Silveryn to reconsider her decision.

There was a possibility that an opportunity would come to Joyce. He was more confident than anyone else in his capability.

"Is it easy to deal with ghouls?"

"It's difficult. But hey, do you think that delicate-looking guy has ever faced a ghoul?"

It took at least two knights to subjugate one ghoul. Their flesh was tough, and they had spikes protruding from their backs like porcupines, making them very tricky to deal with using swords.

They had strength several times that of an adult man and could tear people apart with their bare hands. They had seen quite a few knights who had their limbs torn off by ghouls and could never wield a sword again.

With Joyce's skills, he could handle one ghoul alone if he pushed himself a bit. This was impossible for trainees of the same age.

If he had lived in the Wiesel region, Silveryn's disciple probably hadn't even seen a ghoul.

Just properly dealing with a ghoul would put him in a somewhat superior position.

Joyce fiddled with the sword at his waist, waiting for an opportune moment.

Popper waited at a large intersection in the center of the village. As he received reports from those returning from reconnaissance, his face grew heavier.

Reinforcements seemed inevitable.

If they couldn't find the ghoul, they would have to station a large number of troops in this village indefinitely.

Silveryn, quietly observing this situation, said, "No magic creature is easy. Whether big or small, strong or weak, they're all difficult."

"When they get involved with people, any magic creature becomes difficult."

When a magic creature appeared, it was customary to form a subjugation team and eliminate it.

How nice it would be if the situation could be resolved so neatly.

Reality wasn't that simple.

Silveryn said that even just the rumor of a magic creature causing a disturbance could impact this area.

Thanks to Wiesel's reputation for being safe from magic creatures, merchants were using it as a trade route, reducing costs for escorts. This village had prospered rapidly due to its location at the midpoint of the trade route.

If rumors spread that numerous troops were stationed in this village building a defense line, trade would also shrink, which would lead to a decrease in tax revenue.

This was why the subjugation team was putting their all into resolving the matter quickly.

What had happened couldn't be helped, and more than anything, Damian wanted to check something right away. Now, when the search teams had finished their work and were waiting to report, entering a lull was just the right timing.

"Teacher."

"Yes?"

"There's something I want to check, can I go somewhere for a moment?"

Silveryn heard his words and stared into space, thinking for a moment.

"Where?"

"Just somewhere that felt off."

Silveryn crossed her arms and stared at Damian intently. After a moment of consideration, she spoke, "You don't want to tell me, I see. Alright, I don't know what you're thinking, but go ahead for now."

"It might be nothing. I'll be back soon."

"Wait a moment."

Silveryn called out to Damian as he was about to leave, then took something out of her robe's inner pocket and handed it to him.

It was a small metal ball with unique wave patterns engraved on it.

Damian took it and examined it closely.

Inside the metal ball, visible through the patterns, were complexly intertwined gears and rune letters.

"It's called a Stitch, a magic tool used like a messenger. Just in case something happens, throw this into the sky. It will reveal your location."

"What if I'm indoors?"

"Doesn't it look just right for breaking a window?"

So she meant to throw it out the window.

"...I understand."