Count Maios Marmaros... From now on, Maios-sensei is the ruler of Marmaros, a town famous for its marble production.
Consequently, he has quite a lot of matters that only he can decide—duties he must handle as a noble.
For example, deciding which merchants receive the quarried marble, and how much they receive.
This involves more than simply dealing with merchants; it also affects Marmaros's relationships with the powerful people in the places to which those merchants transport the marble.
Naturally, the largest export destination is Ladrenia, the headquarters of the church that calls marble a treasure bestowed by the Fertility Goddess. But the church has branches in every country, and because Marmaros marble is recognized by the church, demand for it is high.
Naturally, everyone wants as much Marmaros marble as possible, so if the export volume becomes unbalanced, other countries will grow dissatisfied.
Moreover, Marmaros was not the only town in Siglea where marble was produced, so its exports also had to be balanced against those of the other towns.
Things could not be managed by simply resting on the high demand and monopolizing the market.
That same sense of balance was expected of Marmaros's ruler.
However, supporting Maios-sensei in his role as count was a group of vassals led by Viscount Balestra Kaiant.
Because of their support, once Maios-sensei finished the duties only he could handle, he had time for the sculpture and art he loved.
Apparently, his reputation as a sculptor also helped quite a few business deals proceed smoothly, so the vassals understood and supported him.
Incidentally, Maios-sensei had three sons and one daughter, and Viscount Kaiant was also that daughter's husband.
As for his remaining sons, the eldest assisted Viscount Kaiant with his work so he could learn in preparation for becoming the heir, while the second oversaw the village where the quarry workers lived.
The third, meanwhile, apparently hoped to make his living as a warrior, like a true Siglean, rather than become a ruler in the future.
Ah, well, thanks in part to the work of those vassals and sons, Maios-sensei spent his mornings handling the official decisions that only he could make as a noble.
In the afternoons, he met with his vassals, led by Viscount Kaiant, once every few days, and also inspected the town and quarries, leaving him only four afternoons a week for art and sculpture.
In other words, that was when he used his time to teach me.
The lessons consisted of watching Maios-sensei work while receiving detailed explanations.
To be honest, if he had intended to train a new craftsman, his teaching methods and the time available would have been woefully inadequate.
But Maios-sensei said,
"You're already a skilled craftsman—perhaps even one whose abilities surpass my own. After all, you were able to create such magnificent detailing on that dagger. So once you've learned the necessary techniques, you should try them yourself and make them your own. I'll provide the stone. I'm curious to see what you'll carve, too."
He said that with a laugh, so I couldn't bring myself to say anything that sounded spoiled.
He was a very strict teacher, though in a way completely different from the masters who had taught me so many things before.
Ah, perhaps my relationship with him was closer to the one I had with Old Man Saku, who taught me sword-making through an exchange of techniques on the eastern island of Fusō, which I had visited before.
Since I wasn't his apprentice, I didn't stay at Maios-sensei's mansion, but commuted from an inn in town to his workshop.
That meant I had to take work at the smithy during the hours I wasn't studying sculpture to pay for my living expenses. I also needed to pay Maios-sensei's tuition and prepare something that would touch his heart and stimulate his creative drive.
My days of working while studying were busier than I had expected.
But because of that, I came to understand keenly just how precious it was that someone even busier than I was set aside time to teach me.
After I had spent some time observing, he gradually began letting me touch the stone as well.
There were aspects of using the tools and applying force that I couldn't understand by watching alone, so he explained those as he went.
Somehow, Maios-sensei really was more of a teacher than a master.
Come to think of it, I had made the tools used for sculpture myself in the smithy, too.
The thickness of the chisels and the shape of their tips changed depending on how much stone I wanted to remove and what shape I wanted to create, as did the size of the hammer used to strike them.
There were already many types of chisels and hammers, not to mention tools for splitting large pieces of stone and, conversely, smoothing the surface after the stone had been split.
Simply choosing the right tool for the situation required knowledge, experience, and a sensitivity to stone.
In fact, even without using such tools, I could manipulate the shape of stone to some extent according to my mental image by asking the earth spirits for help.
To split a stone, all I had to do was trace a line from here to there with my finger.
It would probably—no, without a doubt—make the work much easier.
But that wouldn't do.
At my current stage, if I relied on the power of the earth spirits, I would have no room left to grow.
As I split, carved, and polished the stone, the image in my mind became increasingly refined.
Of course, I imagined a reasonably complete form from the start, but as I worked with and confronted the stone, I could definitely feel my sensibilities being honed.
That said, when it came to observing and engaging with the stone, my perception necessarily depended on the spirits, so I couldn't simply ignore them.
Even stone had shapes it wanted to be split into and shapes it did not want to be split into, and the words of the earth spirits were tremendously useful in understanding that.
To put it simply, then, I was spending my busy days feeling fulfilled all the same.
And that very busyness was gradually helping me grow.
I felt that every day.