Chapter 86 – Deciding Match During Field Practice (4)

A few days after my trip to the western forest with Darling, I made the rounds of Farencia’s general stores.

My mission: to procure essential supplies for the first-years’ upcoming field exercise. Luminous stones for navigating the forest at night, compasses for dungeon delving—the works.

“Seven-meter lengths of rope, please. And the water canteens with the single-use purification enchantment. Five low-grade and two mid-grade potions per pack should be sufficient. Include a bottle of purified water as well.”

“Will you require rations?” the shopkeeper inquired.

“No need. Some bread will keep them going for a few days.”

The shopkeeper’s gaze swept over my attire. “Adventurer, are you?”

“I’ve done similar work.”

“Indeed. That explains your discerning eye. Though I must say, a few items on your list seem superfluous…”

“That’s fine. I’ll need fifty more sets identical to this.”

These kits weren’t meant for seasoned adventurers. They were for pampered noble mages fresh out of the academy. Flint and tinder would be pointless when they could conjure fire with a flick of the wrist. Professional-grade exploration tools would likely gather dust. Instead, I prioritized safety, opting for extra monster repellent and potions, even if it bumped up the cost. Price was a secondary concern.

Just as I’d cornered the popcorn market during the Magic Duel, I planned to capitalize on the field training with pre-made survival kits. Locating and clearing a dungeon in the forest would take at least two or three days. The kits would sell themselves.

“Please take thirty sets for now. We’ll dispatch the remainder to your location once the workshop finishes the backpacks. Where should we deliver them?”

“The Farencia Academy store.”

“Very well.”

I continued my shopping spree, gathering enough supplies for roughly half the first-year class. Some students would undoubtedly come prepared.

Satisfied, I turned to head back to the store when Luchopard, a renowned jeweler in the commercial district, caught my eye. Their craftsmanship—fusing gemstones with magic stone powder to create exquisite artifacts—was legendary, even earning royal acclaim.

The high-end pieces locked away under heavy guard were beyond my reach. Still, perhaps their most basic offering wouldn’t break the bank.

Adela’s germanium bracelet bothered me. She clung to it sentimentally, but I couldn’t shake the image of her succumbing to pseudoscientific quackery.

“Welcome. How can I assist you?”

“I’m looking for a ring.”

“A gift for your loved one, perhaps?”

“Yes. Show me two distinct designs.”

The clerk presented a pair of rings, one with a sapphire, the other an amethyst. Low-grade artifacts, imbued with Barrier and Wind Shear respectively. Practically useless, but aesthetically pleasing. Though to my untrained eye, all jewelry looked more or less the same. Perhaps Liv would like one too. It wouldn’t be fair to favor Adela.

“I’ll take both.”

“Certainly. Which one would you like sized for a gentleman?”

“Neither. Both for ladies.”

“?”

Despite the hefty investment in survival kits, I managed to cover the cost—barely.

“…Wasteful,” the clerk muttered under her breath, her gaze like daggers.

I left without a word, returning to the academy.

***

At the gate, I found Mark, looking utterly defeated. His failed escape attempt and subsequent all-nighter on gate duty had taken their toll. He slumped in a small chair, baking under the midday sun, his gaze fixed on the heavens.

“Hey, you alright?”

“…Dukes, empires, the whole lot—I’m done with it all. One day, I’ll tear it all down.”

“What happened now?”

“You won’t believe this, Louis. I found this adorable doll in the dungeon yesterday. Reminded me of my daughter, so I pocketed it. But today, the headmaster saw me showing it off, snatched it from my hand, and crushed it! Ground it to dust! Then she docked my pay and told me never to bring such things into the academy again! Unbelievable!”

He gestured towards his feet.

“Look! Obliterated! Reduced to powder…”

“Get a grip, you moron. Dolls don’t turn to dust when you step on them.”

Thwack!

“Oof! Did you just hit me? Siding with the headmaster now? Should’ve known something was up when you scurried off to the store to avoid the guillotine. Probably in cahoots with her…”

“Shut up and look at this.”

I picked up a relatively intact fragment from the rubble. A grotesque, horned head, jaggedly broken, like a mangled figurine.

“A ‘doll,’ you said?”

Disturbingly familiar. Damn it.

***

“Store Owner?”

“…”

“You seem preoccupied, Store Owner. What weighty matters occupy your thoughts?”

A Demonic Idol. Mareile’s note had instantly clarified the object’s nature.

The reason was twofold: such idols were quintessential black magic tools, conduits for demonic energy, and I’d encountered one before. They warped the very essence of monsters, transforming them into ravenous fiends.

The monstrous wave that had once engulfed Farencia—a Demonic Idol had been at the heart of it. Its discovery had sent me into a blind rage, and I’d obliterated everything in my path.

And then…

“Store Owner!”

“Yes?”

Darling stood before me, an array of azure crystal orbs hovering around her.

“To be so distracted in my presence! Your lack of decorum is astounding.”

“…”

“Do you have any idea how many clamor at the Four Gates of Farencia, vying for a mere ten minutes to dine with me?”

Darling’s prattle faded into background noise as I focused on the images within the orbs. Soldiers combed through the dungeon and surrounding forest, their movements precise and methodical, like a live feed of a special forces operation. The communication magic I’d set up in the cabin was proving invaluable.

“Why, just yesterday, I received a deluge of marriage proposals! While I confess, my social circles extend little beyond the upper echelon of commerce, my allure appears to have reached even the hallowed halls of Thessalon’s social scene!”

If the idol was merely a relic from the previous monster wave, there’d be little cause for concern.

But Mark had mistaken it for a doll. Unless he was hallucinating from stress, the idol must have been magically disguised.

This wasn’t a remnant of the past. This was a clear and present danger to the first-year students.

“Store Owwwner! Are you even listening? At this rate, you’ll find yourself impulsively betrothed to some stranger, only to lament the loss of these precious, fleeting moments!”

Gods, she was annoying.

“Gah! My head! Stop crushing my head! It hurts! I’m shrinking!”

“Get down.”

“Arghhhh!”

I hauled Darling, who was dramatically writhing on the sofa, back towards me.

“Stop with the theatrics and stay put. More importantly, are all the second-years accounted for?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered.

“I’d like to remain here during the field exercise. Is that permissible?”

“What?”

Darling tugged at my arm, her expression a mixture of disbelief and delight.

“Truly? Store Owner, do you mean it? You wish to extend your stay?”

“Yes.”

This monitoring room, the central hub for the field exercise assessment, was the ideal location to respond to any emergencies.

“Well, if you insist. Ordinarily, such an extension would incur a fee, but considering you came at my behest, I shall grant this privilege.”

She feigned nonchalance, but her swinging legs betrayed her excitement.

“You’re really that happy?”

“W-who said I was happy? It’s just…you’ve been so quick to dismiss my proposals in the past.”

Truthfully, I’d only agreed because Darling had helped me during a difficult time—when Bill was sick, and I was mentally frayed. It felt wrong to respond differently now, given the same circumstances.

Though, admittedly, her presence was as grating as ever.

“Isn’t it because you’re constantly scheming to take over my store?”

“Hmm… My thoughts have shifted of late. Are you familiar with the concept of ‘joint ownership’?”

As I indulged Darling’s inane chatter, my attention remained fixed on the soldiers in the orbs.

Unlike the goddess statue incident, the demonic influence now wore the guise of a child’s toy. But Farencia had its advantages. We could track the flow of goods, trace the idol back to its source. This was an opportunity to unearth the puppet master pulling the strings.

***

A few days later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet, the first-year students marched through the academy gates towards the western forest.

Led by their professors, they clutched their bulky backpacks, a mix of anticipation and trepidation etched on their faces.

For most, this was their baptism by fire—their first true taste of fieldwork. A few confident individuals aside, nerves were understandably frayed.

“One map each. This details the terrain of the western forest. Be aware that while safety personnel are deployed, there will be no individual protective barriers as in the Magic Duel. Exercise caution.”

Erzebert, Adela, and Cal huddled together, their small team a beacon of familiarity in the growing uncertainty. The professor’s voice continued its steady drone.

“Your objective is to retrieve markers located within the dungeons scattered throughout the forest. Each marker is guarded by other students acting as defenders. You must engage and overcome them to claim your prize.”

Roughly forty teams had been formed, but the number of dungeons was capped at ten. This end-of-term evaluation was a crucible, forging them in the fires of competition.

“Your performance will be judged on three key criteria: survival skills within the forest, adaptability in crisis situations, and, naturally, combat prowess—an essential quality for any aspiring mage. If you’ve diligently applied yourselves in Basic Magic Theory, you’ll understand the implications.”

A chorus of “Yes!” rang out, a mixture of bravado and apprehension.

Practical magic was a volatile beast, far removed from the sterile environment of the classroom. Professor Roilen’s final lecture had emphasized intuitive, instinctual spellcasting—drawing upon the raw power of emotion, channeling the very essence of the Three Originals, the Tree of Sephiroth, rather than relying on contrived domains of power.

The sight of the military encampment, a bustling hive of activity within the forest’s edge, provided a momentary sense of security.

That comfort quickly evaporated as they gazed beyond the towering trees, into the heart of the forest, a dark and brooding expanse that swallowed the last vestiges of daylight. This was their proving ground.

“In ten minutes, precisely at 1900 hours, the starting signal will sound. Use this time to strategize with your teammates and formulate a plan for the night.”

Erzebert immediately took charge, her mind already churning with survival strategies.

“Finding a dungeon on the first night is unlikely. They wouldn’t place one near the encampment, and survival is a key element of the assessment.”

Cal nodded in agreement. He hailed from Bahran, a southern jungle far wilder than Farencia. The forest held no terrors for him.

“Setting up camp should be our priority. The map indicates a stream an hour’s walk from here. We’ll utilize Her Highness’s familiar to scout the surrounding area and identify a suitable, concealed location for our camp.”

“We have the purified water canteens, and bread should suffice for now. There’s no time to forage.”

The timing of the exercise—commencing at nightfall—was clearly a deliberate tactic to drain their energy from the outset.

In the distance, Headmaster Lehel stifled a yawn. The sight of her filled me with a sudden, inexplicable irritation.

“Alright, everyone! Gather round!” Professor Roilen’s voice boomed across the clearing.

Until the last moment, Cal and Erzebert continued their strategic discussion, fine-tuning their plan.

Finally, the moment arrived. The chill night air bit at their exposed skin. The eerie cries of unseen creatures echoed through the darkness, a dissonant symphony of the wild.

The first-years gripped their magical implements, casting wary glances at neighboring teams, a silent acknowledgment of the competition that lay ahead. They were poised, ready to scatter into the forest the moment the signal sounded.

“Adela, I’m counting on you,” Erzebert said, her voice low and serious, her gaze fixed on Adela.

Despite Adela’s…quirks, she was the mage who had represented their year in the Magic Duel. The girl who couldn’t cast a simple spell had become a force to be reckoned with. Rumors whispered of her single-handedly destroying the academy store, and leaving the second-year valedictorian clinging to life.

Surely, she harbored a hidden strength.

A scion of the Rochear lineage, one of the five dukes ruling the North Sea, a bearer of Unique Magic—Erzebert’s gaze held a flicker of hope, a silent prayer that the weight of her family name wouldn’t prove an empty burden.

“When the signal sounds, you know what to do, right?”

“Yes,” Adela replied, her expression unusually serious, mirroring Erzebert’s intensity.

“I’m hungry.”

With unwavering resolve, her gaze fixed on the fiery sunset, Adela reached into the backpack Louis had provided, and pulled out a loaf of bread.

“Let’s eat.”