Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A New Existential Evolution 

A searing pain radiated across my being the very moment a single drop of blood touched my tongue. For a moment, I thought it would be best to stop drinking this fluid, whatever it was; my instincts, however, didn’t feel that way. It was as if I was spurred on by a strange, invisible voice. It was probably just my imagination. 

In the case of Existential Evolution, however, I suppose I had no choice but to trust my gut instincts. One could ask for a logical explanation or justification, but I had none. 

I tipped the bottle upward, emptying its contents.

Clank. 

The empty vial slowly rolled across the top of the table. The vial in question was a valuable magical tool in its own right. I had wanted to put it on the table properly, so it wouldn’t roll about or end up cracked in some accident. But I didn’t have much of a choice— 

A sea of crimson flooded my eyes. Waves of pain and immaterial suffering pounded my entire body. 

This is bad... was the very first thing that came to my mind. 

But, I didn’t feel like I was dying. If anything, I felt like someone, something, was forcibly changing the insides of my body as it saw fit. I felt it, deep in my body, in places or pockets that had once been hollow. It was like all my strength had been robbed from me, and strange things were being packed one by one into my being. 

If I had to guess, these strange things were none other than living organs, for I didn’t have much in the way of those at all. What felt like a large amount of ants crawling across my body’s surface at an astounding speed was probably none other than the rapid formation of skin. 

The entire process was very much like a hangover, or perhaps like when one was sickeningly drunk, except a hundred times worse. My vision continued to twist and turn, and the objects before me seemed to be constantly afflicted by an invisible earthquake only I could feel. I tried my utmost best to calm down, only to discover it was a fruitless endeavor. All around and inside me were complaints; my body’s endless tirade of warnings that something wasn’t quite right, that something was different. While I understood the process, the feeling didn’t stop. 

How long will this go on...? Will it even end? 

Will it even end? 

These thoughts flooded my mind, and with no sense of abating, the torrent soon overwhelmed me. 

I see... Did all the people before me who drank Vampire blood feel this way? A truly unsettling, unpleasant taste... Not to mention its effects. I now understood why some died in the process, unable to withstand the strain, while others had just gone mad. 

I, however, seemed to be able to maintain my sanity. 

Is it because of my strength...? 

No, that wasn’t quite right— 

It was because I was undead. 

Ever since becoming undead, I noticed my mental state had taken quite a departure from the time when I still drew breath. While I tried to act like a human as much as I could, and for the most part was seen as human-like by most, something had changed within me. My emotions were still, silent, perhaps even weak compared to when I was still alive. 

Through my time as a Skeleton, Ghoul, and eventually a Thrall, I had always somehow managed to keep myself calm, and relatively sane...if only because I actually did feel calm. For some unknown reason, I no longer felt emotions as intensely as I used to. 

Even so, certain things still caused hints of emotion to stir within my heart. For example, my dream of becoming a Mithril-class adventurer provoked a reaction from deep within. Maybe that was a given, due to the fact that I had dreamed about it all my life. This was why I remained captivated by that dream, and I felt even more captivated than I ever had been, more so than when I still drew breath. 

And yet, my dedication toward this goal could be easily forgotten, like a disappearing thought after one had awoken from a period of slumber. I had to hold onto it tightly, so as to never forget. 

This was why I couldn’t give up and let go, even with this pain whipping across my body. If I had experienced the same thing while I was still human, I would have most likely lost my mind after a few seconds into the process.

“Ah! Ahhh!!!”

I could hear a voice somewhere far, far away. In my twisting, swirling vision was Lorraine’s face. The sight of her put me at ease, if only because I no longer felt a desire for her flesh and blood, unlike when I had evolved into a Thrall. 

There was, however, another feeling... 

I could feel my consciousness slipping away. 

What would happen if I let go...? 

Nothing bad, it seemed... Given how I felt, I would simply pass out, as it was difficult to remain conscious in this state for long. Maybe it’d feel much better to just sit back and let go. 

While I was concerned about the overall progress of my Existential Evolution, I felt I had safely overcome the most difficult of challenges, namely keeping sane in spite of the pain and not dying mentally to the seemingly endless suffering. 

In other ways, I was already sort of dead from the start. So I suppose there would be no problems at all... 

I decided to finally let go. 

A veil of darkness soon clouded my vision. I felt like I was floating, falling in slow motion as my head slowly approached the ground. Before the impact, I could feel myself being cradled by something—then I blacked out. 

Everything seems to be in order, as expected. 

That was the first thought that crossed my mind as I slowly regained my senses. 

My body felt...conflicted. It seemed to creak in many places. 

How would I describe this... It was akin to the feeling when one had a splint put on after breaking a bone. A strange feeling of tightness in the limbs. 

What was this...? 

It just felt strange, and wasn’t too uncomfortable. As I opened my eyes, however, I was shocked by the sheer heaviness of my eyelids. 

Come to think of it, I may have never even blinked during my time as a Thrall. I recalled feeling like I had closed my eyes, but I didn’t recall seeing eyelids of any kind, not even when I had the mask rearrange itself for a closer inspection. 

This feeling I felt now... 

A faint light came into focus before my eyes as I slowly opened them. It was the flame of a candle, gently wavering in the darkness. 

This abode was equipped with light-emitting magical tools, but I suppose Lorraine dimmed the lights before going to bed. Lorraine had most likely left a dim candle near me to provide light should I awaken. 

It appeared I was lying down horizontally—on a bed, to be exact. The first thing I saw upon fully opening my eyes was...the ceiling. The ceiling, and a shadow cast upon it by the flickering, dim candlelight. 

A shadow of someone... Someone I knew. 

But of course. I turned to my side slowly, glancing over the side of the bed. There, sitting quietly with a heavy book in her lap, was none other than Lorraine, gently flipping the book’s pages. 

I stared at her for a while as she continued to read. Her eyes soon darted to the upper left of a new page, in turn noticing my gaze. 

“So, you are awake, Rentt.” 

It seemed like Lorraine had been watching over me all this time. I suppose she had thought I would get up after a while, but ended up reading a book after realizing I would be unconscious for a longer period. 

It was already dark out, so considering I had collapsed sometime in the morning, I had slept for most of the day. It was the first time in a long while I had experienced a deep sleep, though it appeared to have ended before I had even enjoyed much of it. 

“Ah... What are you reading?” 

At my question, Lorraine closed her book with a thump, offering an answer as she ran her fingers across the cover. 

“A book that describes the ecology of Vampires—a bit of an encyclopedia, really. The entries detail various types of Vampires, but I suppose even you know of the common differences between them. Thralls, Lesser Vampires, Greater Vampires, and Grand Vampires... Details on them all. Of course, as they increase in strength, some Vampire types begin to defy attempts at classification. The classifications above are not exhaustive in the least—for example, Vampires who had lived for an exceptionally long time were known as Ancient Vampires, and we have the classic Vampire Princesses who appear in folktales and the like. As you can see, you would not be applying the above classifications to these two previous examples.” 

“I haven’t heard of anyone who’s met either of those Vampires. Maybe they’re nothing more than folktales, then. Even if we took the capabilities of a Grand Vampire into account, its familiars and members of its blood family would only make up a village, at most. It would pose issues if they had somehow infiltrated a town and set up their own Vampire society within it, of course. On another note, this was just a rumor I heard but...a legend in a certain distant country speaks of a Twilight Vampire, who had somehow managed to usurp the entire kingdom for itself. That, I would say, is a true legend, and nothing more.” 

“Do keep in mind legends may still have a grain of truth to them. After all, Rentt, did you not meet a legendary dragon, and was then eaten whole? Perhaps Twilight Vampires do exist—and I could even say that of the Church of the Eastern Sky that they worship in the Eastern lands. Am I wrong?” 

Lorraine had pointed out a fatal flaw in my argument. After all, I had personally experienced an encounter with a legend in person. I should, at least, be the last person to say legends were nothing more than folktales. 

If I sat down and thought about it, I had already experienced something which exceeded the typical legends I had heard about, that of being eaten by a dragon and summarily turned into a monster. Although one could also become a monster through some strange rituals, or drinking Vampire blood, the chances of success were relatively small. 

I had no choice but to nod. 

“Well...I suppose so. So...why is it you’re reading that book, again?” 

“Why, it’s very simple, Rentt.” Lorraine pointed her finger at me in response to my question. “What I mean to say is...” 

“Is...?”

Ah... To congratulate me for my Existential Evolution, I suppose.

A faint smile rested on her lips as she spoke those words. 

Existential Evolution? Why would she bring that up...? 

I wasn’t really in the business of playing dumb, I had simply not noticed it until Lorraine brought it up—upon which I was asked if even my brains had rotted out during my time as a member of the walking dead. I couldn’t come up with a good retort in return, for Lorraine had a point. 

Honestly speaking, however, I felt quite a significant change across my body. Since I was still very much groggy from my recent awakening, I couldn’t grasp the reality of the situation. But...it truly had been a while, to feel groggy, or be able to sleep. Up until this morning, such impulses had been shoved deep into the recesses of my mind. 

I possessed a sort of deadly calm during my time as a Thrall. It was almost as if my emotions remained consistently flat, barring when I had undergone my recent evolution. I would force myself to laugh if everyone else around me was laughing, a social cue to remind me that the spectacle before me was hilarious. For some reason, all my past experiences now felt that way. 

Painfully hollow, yes...but I suppose that was what it was. 

In any case, compared to how I was before, I now felt emotion in a considerably more robust manner. I was still a far cry from how I used to be when I lived, but I felt less...empty than I used to be, if nothing else. The emptiness and calm I felt was less of an Undead attribute, as opposed to, say, the literal emptiness in the cavities of my body. My heart, too, felt figuratively empty. 

I could feel my innards now, though. My previously empty body was now appropriately stuffed. I supposed I could tear into my stomach and look...though that didn’t sound like a very good idea at all. 

In any case, I still had no idea how I looked; if only I had a mirror at hand... 

As if reading my mind, Lorraine carried a somewhat large mirror over to where I stood. The mirror had apparently been leaning against the wall all this time—Lorraine had probably prepared it in advance. She didn’t have a large mirror before, so maybe this was a recent purchase. 

All things considered, it was quite a large mirror, and I felt a little apologetic for having Lorraine haul such a thing around. 

“I don’t...really see the difference,” I said, staring into the mirror, only to reprimanded by an exasperated Lorraine. 

“Take off your robe and mask, you fool! Of course you would look the same if you remained dressed that way, Rentt. Are you so thickheaded?” 

I obediently followed her instructions, but...how did Lorraine know I had evolved, then...? 

Lorraine, ever observant, offered an explanation before I could even ask for one. 

“I simply removed one of your gloves, Rentt. Surely even you would notice from that alone.” 

I see... As expected of Lorraine. Looking up, I saw my gloves neatly placed on a small table in the room. 

Looking down at my hands, I was surprised, to say the least. My hands were now smooth and somewhat normal, a sharp contrast to how they looked in the morning. Anyone who had looked at them previously would wonder if they were made of wooden sticks, with dried human flesh clumsily stuck onto them. Ah, yes, my hands were suitably grotesque. 

Though my hands were now smooth and somewhat human, they were very pale, as if little, if any, blood ran through them at all. At the very least, they no longer appeared undead or monstrous, and no one would run up to me to say, “Ah, an Undead, yes? May I please have your signature?” But of course, I hadn’t been asked for a signature at any point in time, regardless of if I was a Skeleton, Ghoul, or Thrall...merely because I hadn’t been found out. Even if I were found out, terrible scenarios would no longer happen. 

Hmm... An example of a terrible scenario would be, say, a bunch of muscular old men with swords approaching me, saying something along the lines of, “Hey, you’re an Undead, aren’t’cha? That request the guild has goin’ pays well, see... Mind if we take yer head?!” Ugh... 

I didn’t want to think about this anymore. But with that said... 

“Am I a little more human now?” I muttered. 

“Some progress has been made, I would say. To begin with, there are doubts as to if you can ever become fully human again in the first place. For now, it is hard to say. At a glance you seem human-like, sure. In any case, Rentt, off with your mask and robe—I cannot make a value judgment without seeing it for myself.” 

Lorraine’s response seemed a little troubled at best, but she was right. As always, it was foolish to expect one’s hopes to become reality; being able to distinguish between the two was important at times like these. 

It was as Lorraine said: no one knew if I would ever be able to return to being human. But the shock of this revelation didn’t seem to impact me as severely as I thought it would. Maybe it was due to Lorraine’s declaration that she didn’t mind if I stayed undead eternally. At the very least, I didn’t have to spend my entire life alone, living as some sort of outcast monster. 

“All right, all right...” I said, removing my robes. 

I had some clothing under my robes, but they were cheap garments at best. More accurately, I was only wearing undershirts and pants. I had done this on purpose, primarily due my body being full of holes at one point. If I had worn little in the way of clothing, I feared my flesh would fall out if it had the chance. 

Realistically speaking, I could easily fix any afflicted areas with healing magic or divinity. If something did unfortunately fall out, it wouldn’t pose too much of a problem. It was a matter of personal preference, really. Even if it made little visual difference, I was diligent with the upkeep of my body, much like how certain young ladies were terribly passionate about moisturizing their skin. As a result of this obsession of theirs, Slime fluid now commanded a hefty price—but who am I to tell passionate young ladies to stop doing what they were doing. If I really did say something like that in public, there was no telling when or how I would get mobbed in a dark alleyway. In many cases, it was better to hold one’s tongue—such were the state of affairs in the world. 

“Hmm...” Lorraine nodded slowly as she stared at my now-exposed body. 

“Do you see any visible differences...?” 

“Well...no, not really, at least not from the front. It has been a while since I got a good look, though... You are built, as expected. But of course, with all the training you have been doing, that much was to be expected... I do not see many changes. Why not see for yourself, and tell me if you feel any different?” said Lorraine, after giving me a look-over. 

Hmm... Are there any differences? 

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Unfortunately, there were no marked changes at all. Up until now, my body had been relatively dry and sadly full of holes. I could hardly remember much of how I had looked in life, but maybe this was close to it. 

The main difference was that I was exceedingly pale. I was even mildly blue in some parts, probably from a lack of blood. But a stranger who would see my body as it was now wouldn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that I was an Undead. Personally, that seemed enough for me at this point. 

I now had skin, and no longer had holes in my body... That was a most magnificent thing indeed. 

The feelings I had experienced when I awoke were probably the tautness of my newly-formed skin. It hardly had any wrinkles, a sharp contrast to how I had been before. It was like I had just been born. 

“Cold...” 

A chill on my back—a little alarming, no doubt, but it was only Lorraine’s hand, gently stroking the skin on my back. 

“... Skin that most young ladies would be envious of, yes.” She nodded, seemingly satisfied. “This is no longer regeneration...more of a new birth, a new creation of skin—hence the smoothness. You are a man, of course, and above that an adventurer who has lived a considerably difficult life, plumbing the labyrinths and all that. Your skin was rough before, but now...” 

In the past, Lorraine looked after me when I had gotten injured, and looked upon my naked upper-body plainly, in addition to touching it to treat my injuries. I suppose my skin was much smoother now than how she remembered it to be. 

“Not a single wound or scar, either...” Lorraine continued. “You had an old wound up here before, no? That one big slash across your back... Left quite the mark, that one. It is all gone now, though.” 

As Lorraine said, all the scars I had from my previous life were now completely gone. I suppose my body literally reconstructed itself after I had become an Undead, explaining their disappearance. Either way, I couldn’t be absolutely sure, but it wasn’t like I really cared about my scars. 

Lorraine interrupted me before I could express my opinions on the matter. 

“None of your old scars remain...not even this one here. Adventurers like to have scars of this nature, no...? Well, nothing can be done now that they are gone...” she said, as if mourning the loss of a great artifact. 

She seemed more depressed at the revelation than I ever could be. Maybe it was like how children felt when the stitches on a well-loved soft toy disappeared. 

“Well, not too many changes here and there, really, other than these small wings on your back...” Lorraine continued, in a most casual fashion. “Nothing much else of note, no.” 

She delivered the supposedly surprising revelation with a deadpan tone of voice. 

“Wings?” 

I tilted my head to one side, somewhat theatrically from the shock. Lorraine did the same in response. 

“Did you really not notice, Rentt?” she asked plainly. 

It probably wasn’t Lorraine’s intent to keep silent on the matter. If I were to guess, she had simply assumed I knew about the supposed wings on my back. Even so... 

“Why would I just turn and look at my back? I can’t really be expected to notice, no?” I said to Lorraine, feeling a little incredulous about the entire situation. 

“Well, they were moving—or, twitching—ever so slightly before, Rentt. I had just assumed you were consciously moving them. My apologies. So, they move subconsciously, on their own accord? Like eyelids, perhaps...? Ah, yes. Another mirror. I should fetch one...It is probably difficult to turn around and stare at your back. I have just the thing... Hold on.” 

Saying so, Lorraine dug around a few of the shelves in her room before pausing and fishing out a mirror. 

Even though I was temporarily living here, this was Lorraine’s home. In addition, I hardly had many worldly possessions of my own, and most of what remained in this room’s shelves and storage chests were Lorraine’s possessions. 

Holding up the mirror she’d found, Lorraine stood behind me, reflecting an image of my back into the mirror I was facing. With this, I could see my back, and reflected in the mirror were none other than... 

“Wings, I suppose...” 

“Yes, Rentt. Wings. Flight membranes is also an acceptable term to use—whatever you wish to call them, really. Exactly as I told you, no?” 

Wings... The protrusions on my back were unmistakable. Sprouting somewhere down my shoulder blades from the middle of my back were two symmetrical wings, with one on the right and the other on the left. They weren’t feathered, not like those of a bird. They were more like the leathery, thin wings of a bat, membranes and all. Although they were folded up into a somewhat compact shape, I discovered I could move them a little if I put my mind to it. 

Witnessing this, Lorraine seemed satisfied at the spectacle. 

“Ah, so you can move them on your own. What was that all about just now, then...?” 

Lorraine placed her hands on my newly-sprouted appendages, apparently inspecting their membranes and gently stretching them out. It was ticklish, but Lorraine knew best; she was a respectable scholar in the field of monster research, after all. 

Allowing Lorraine to thoroughly inspect my body contributed to my own knowledge of my capabilities. I had little choice but to accept her inquisitive behaviors for the time being... 

“Hey now, Rentt. You should not really be trying to escape...” Lorraine said, somewhat flatly. 

“Escape? I don’t recall making any attempts to do so.” 

“Ah, but you are doing exactly that, Rentt. Not your body, perhaps, but your wings certainly are. Or, should I call them flight membranes instead? Either way, I do not have strong convictions about what terms I should be using to describe your flight mechanisms, so I suppose either term is fine. With that being said, keep your wings still. They are escaping from my hands, fluttering this way and that.” 

Willing myself to keep them still, I stood in relative silence. 

“Good. Not fidgeting around this time, I see,” Lorraine said in a satisfactory tone of voice. 

Yet Lorraine still seemed puzzled by what she had seen a short while ago. Turning her head all over, she mumbled, largely to herself. 

“Why did it...just now. Hmm. I see. Maybe it is...” 

Lorraine began touching my wings in a questionable manner, almost as if she had intended to tickle me. Glancing up at the mirror, I caught a glimpse of Lorraine’s expression—of course she had a slight smile on her face. 

It appeared that Lorraine was purposefully tickling my wings. 

Be that as it may, I wasn’t one to give in. Steeling myself, I willed my wings not to move, and, for a while, that was all I thought about. Even if it was ticklish, I could tolerate this. If there was a will, there was a way, even if she had kept it up for hours on end. 

Yes, hours...on hours...on end. No... No problem... Ugh! It’s too much! 

With that, my struggle for independence from involuntary wing twitching ended. And at that very moment... 

“Oh! There it is. Did you move your wings consciously just now, Rentt?” 

“No. It was ticklish, but I held out as long as I could... Well, that was what I wanted to do.” 

I could no longer tolerate Lorraine’s devilish hand movements toward the end of my short-lived resistance, but it was true I hadn’t consciously moved my wings at any point in time. 

“It is as I expected, then.” Lorraine nodded upon hearing my response. “You are able to move them of your own accord... But they also move involuntarily from time to time. Your wings kept fluttering here and there as I tried to tickle them, as if they had a will of their own... At times, it almost seemed like two separate entities were fighting for control over these wings. You gave up at the end, yes?” 

“Yes. It was a little too much for me to handle.” 

“At that point in time, the subconscious mind wrested back control of your wings from your conscious self. That was why your wings were fluttering away from me on their own accord...like the tail of an animal, if you will.” 

It seemed Lorraine had arrived at quite the strange conclusion. Did she mean to say she could read my current state of mind and emotions just by glancing at the movements of these wings? Even if Lorraine’s observations didn’t go that far, the fact that my wings moved on their own accord at times presented several problems of their own, one being that I’d no longer be able to hide my thoughts very well. On another note, it would be impossible to walk around the streets of Maalt with a pair of wings sticking out of my back. 

Hm...? 

Yes, there was something else to this... Another problem, perhaps. 

“Wouldn’t it be somewhat terrifying for my wings to just stick out of my back, or move on their own underneath my clothes?” 

“We shall see.” 

Lorraine fetched what appeared to be some cheap clothing, apparently made of linen. Putting the clothes on, I turned, allowing Lorraine to inspect my back. 

“Well?” 

“Hmm... Well, yes, this is quite terrifying indeed. It appears that something on your back is bulging out and fidgeting about. Most uncomfortable to look at.” 

I couldn’t see it myself, but I could imagine the horror it would instill in the average Maaltesian. After all, there were some monsters that had a nasty habit of laying their eggs inside humans, and I myself had seen such gruesome spectacles in my long adventuring career. The surface of their skin would move and undulate, as if a thousand earthworms were tunneling through them. Truly a revolting and horrifying sight. Lastly...they would breach the skin, bursting through the host in an unfortunately explosive spectacle. 

One of the most grotesque memories I could recall from my previous life. In fact, it was probably one of the top three. 

The other two grotesque memories were the rotting pieces of my body I had seen during my tenure as a Ghoul and a Thrall. To be able to see ones organs—one’s dried organs, at that—was gruesome. There was simply no way around that. 

I have, for better or worse, gotten used to the sight of them as of late... But now, an equally grotesque thing was on my back? No. This wouldn’t do at all... 

No. This is terrible! 

Lorraine, who had been observing me the entire time, eventually offered a suggestion. 

“Come to think of it, Rentt... Could you not simply fold those wings? Most monsters are able to do so, retracting their wings back into their bodies or what have you.” 

“I suppose you’re right. Some monsters are capable of such... But how would I go about doing it?” 

“As if I would know the answer! Start by imaging it in your mind, Rentt. Perhaps they will move with a strong thought or two...?” 

For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I could discern from Lorraine’s gaze we were both of the same opinion. Yes, this was a silly conversation, but one we unfortunately had to have. Realistically speaking, there was no real way around this, given that I was the only one in the vicinity who was in such strange circumstances. It wasn’t like I could simply look at someone else for inspiration on what to do. 

In any case, it would be wise to follow Lorraine’s directions for now. 

I closed my eyes and thought about folding my wings back into my body—and with a sudden force, I felt something push me lightly on the back. 

“Oooh!” Lorraine, who had been watching all this time, let out a little cheer. She sounded considerably impressed as she patted my back. “You did it, Rentt! They’re folded up neatly now.” 

Rolling up the linen shirt I was wearing, Lorraine stared at my back, apparently not yet finished with her inspection. 

“Hm... Yes. I can no longer see them, Rentt. Hmm... I was just beginning to have some fun with them, too. I suppose these behaviors are within acceptable parameters...” Lorraine nodded, mostly to herself. “Does it hurt anywhere, Rentt?” 

“There is a feeling of pressure,” I responded truthfully, “as if my organs are being pressed into me. Even so, I suppose my wings wouldn’t just pop—” 

“BOO!!!” Lorraine shouted, suddenly and loudly. 

I was, of course, surprised. How unlike her! I had a good mind to demand an answer from Lorraine; however, I was greeted by an exasperated look when I turned around. Lorraine didn’t seem very amused. 

And all I wanted was to assure Lorraine that my wings wouldn’t fly out on their own accord... 

“No good with surprises, I see...” 

Lorraine raised the mirror she held, and reflected within were my unfurled, outstretched wings. To make things worse, they weren’t relaxed and somewhat folded, like they were before, but were wide open. I could only imagine what would happen if something startled me on the street. Would wings suddenly burst out from my back, followed by high-pitched screams from the townsfolk about the devil, or something similar? 

It was a good thing we discovered this early... Yes, quite a good thing... 

“Well. I suppose there was nothing we could do about this... Try your best to not get surprised often, Rentt,” Lorraine said, in a somewhat casual tone of voice. 

How terrible. 

Although I attempted to find a solution with Lorraine, the problem at hand seemed inherently unsolvable; that was the impression I got from our conversation. But with that said, being mentally resilient against surprises wasn’t a skill I could gain overnight... The most I could do was fold my wings up immediately after I’d be surprised, and maybe being conscious about keeping my wings folded throughout the day. These seemed to be the two most realistic solutions to the problem. 

“It’d be better if I could do something about it by sheer willpower alone...” 

“Well, Rentt, you would have to pay more attention in Maalt, at the very least. It would be a little easier in the labyrinths as you explore alone, with no other adventurers to stare at your back. Now, even if someone did see, you could simply claim it was an original magic trick of yours, or some other creative excuse you could come up with.” 

Not much of an explanation or excuse, really, but I suppose I wouldn’t have much of a choice in such a situation. 

Thinking about it calmly, even if my wings pierced the clothes I was wearing, they would most probably not breach my robes. After all, my robes were strong enough to even defend against attacks by monsters. No matter how enthusiastic or violent my wings decided to get, a simple unfurling wouldn’t measure up to an intentional strike. Taking that into account, my robes would most likely remain intact. 

“On another note, Rentt. Those wings of yours... Do you think you are now capable of flight?” Lorraine was still staring at my back. 

While I had been worried about the strange appendages that suddenly sprouted from my back, it was entirely possible they had beneficial functions of their own. Honestly speaking, even I was curious about what these wings could do. 

For starters, wings were for flying, and most of what I had seen in my life suggested as much. Of course, there were some flightless birds in these lands. While they had wings of their own, they were ignored in some capacity, hence the flightlessness of these creatures. 

“I suppose I should try it out...” 

I removed my shirt and spread out my wings. They weren’t large by any means, not even when spread out; a simple glance was enough to inform me these wings were physically incapable of flight. 

But being able to fly through the air was a sort of romance in and of itself. As I was unable to use flight magic of any kind, an airship or these wings were the only possible ways I could soar up in the skies. So I flapped my wings as hard as I could, eager to see if I could fulfill my dreams of flight. 

And yet... 

“I see. Perhaps we should verify some other aspects of your new appendages,” Lorraine said, without the slightest hint of mercy as she observed my futile flapping. 

It was plain to see what she meant: I was physically incapable of flight. Try as I might, my feet hardly lifted off the ground. All I could do was whip up a slight gust, sending waves of air through the room. 

“No... Not yet. I just have to put more power into it! There has to be some hidden powers in these wings!” 

I intensified my movements, refusing to give up. 

Lorraine nodded sagely. “Useful in the summer, no doubt. Whips up a good breeze, you see.” 

A cold statement. 

Confound it! 

Was this all I could do? Was that all these wings were capable of? 

No. That can’t possibly be true! I should be capable of flight. I should be able to soar through the open skies! 

Was there something missing? Was that why I couldn’t fly at this point in time? What was this mysterious...something? 

Hmm. I recalled that some dragons weren’t capable of flight just because they had wings... Wings alone couldn’t hope to lift up such a heavy body...or something along those lines? If so, wouldn’t I be in a similar situation? 

I turned to Lorraine for answers. 

“Well... Jokes aside, it is often said monsters with huge body masses often take flight with the aid of mana or spirit reserves. I do not know the specifics and exact details, of course, but it would be worth trying, if nothing else.” 

Lorraine had just been fooling around prior, so she now had a legitimate suggestion for me. 

I suppose that was to be expected, since Lorraine was the type to think of all possible solutions to a problem. Given her character, it wouldn’t be strange if she had already arrived at this conclusion before I even thought about it. 

Nodding at Lorraine, I began infusing mana into my wings. 

“Ah... As I expected...” Lorraine said, a hint of awe in her voice as she continued staring in my general direction. 

As evident from her reaction, I had lifted off the ground and was now floating in mid-air. It seemed like the experiment was a success, and infusing mana into my wings was the right approach. 

However... 

“Can you not go any higher, Rentt?” 

As per Lorraine’s question, the height I was flying at was somewhat low—at most, one could fit about two thick books between my feet and the ground. Maybe it would be more appropriate to say I was floating, as opposed to actually flying. 

It wasn’t difficult to understand why Lorraine said what she did, for even I felt the same way. To me, flight was about soaring freely through the open skies, and maybe even making a few dramatic turns. There was no way I could be satisfied with this meager degree of elevation. 

I tried many things to increase my elevation, from strengthening my mana flow to clenching and flexing various parts of my body. Alas, nothing I did seemed to affect the height at which I could fly. 

“I guess this is it...” 

Lorraine gave my back a few solid slaps as I slouched my shoulders in disappointment. 

“There, there. At the very least, you can avoid traps on the ground with this. Not too bad, no? After all, pitfalls are the king of traps—the simplest, yet the deadliest, when it comes to taking adventurers’ lives.” 

Lorraine was obviously consoling me. Even so, she did have a point. While labyrinths were often chock full of traps, the deadliest of all these complicated contraptions was none other than the simple pitfall trap. They often showed up in large numbers, and their simple construction made them difficult to detect. 

Traps that activated when they were stepped on were all too commonplace; perhaps a spear would fly out from a hole in the ground, or an arrow from the crevices in a wall. Maybe a more ingenious mechanism was in place, and some unseen hazard would attack the adventurer should they lift their foot. Despite these, one could get used to these sorts of traps, and eventually see through their treachery. 

A pitfall trap, however... It could exist anywhere, and it was difficult to detect. Even I had almost fallen prey to them on numerous occasions...and a few times, had actually fallen into said pits. I had fortunately been able to recover somewhat before completely falling in, such as swinging a grappling hook on a rope I had luckily brought with me. Of course, a single mistake in such a situation would undoubtedly lead to death. Not exactly the most cheerful thing to recall, but, now that I had these wings, I could at least avoid these terribly simple death traps. 

“Be that as it may...if possible, I’d still like to fly at greater heights... To soar through the skies...” 

In my sorrow, I reached for the remote of the little airship. As expected, it took off quickly and elegantly—I was a far cry from its refined motions of flight. 

The little airship flew freely through the air. 

Ah...yes. This is what I want to achieve... 

I bowed my head slightly, suddenly overcome by a deep sense of loss. Lorraine quickly reassured me, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Wait, wait. There has to be more to it, Rentt. You still have not tried some things! How about spirit or divinity, and not magic, the next time?” 

Lorraine had a point: it was worth trying. 

There was still hope. I wasn’t yet locked out of the open skies. 

Solemnly, I had the little airship land before putting the remote away. Returning to the center of the room, I unfurled my wings once more. With Lorraine’s nod, I infused all my spirit into my wings. 

Yes. This has to be it! 

A strange sound filled my ears; a whine? Before I could properly identify this sound, I realized my head had been violently thrust into the wall. 

“R-Rentt! Are you all right?! Rentt!” 

Lorraine’s alarmed voice echoed into my ears as my head remained half-buried in the wall of her abode. 

There was no damage...to my head. 

Again: no damage whatsoever. 

“What was that...?” I said as I slowly pulled my head out of the wall. 

The structure crumbled slightly in response, with bits of the wall tearing down and falling onto my face. Maybe it was the sheer speed at which I flew into it, but bits of the wall had been reduced to powder, covering my mask with a thin, white film. 

“Those are my words, Rentt... Are you really all right? You went headfirst into the wall at quite the velocity.” 

Lorraine wore an expression of something between shock and astonishment across her face. If I were her, I would have worn a similar expression, as well. We were in the middle of a harmless flight experiment, after all; one doesn’t hurtle across enclosed spaces faster than the eye can see on a daily basis. To make things worse, I had half-buried my head in the wall of her abode. 

“Hmm... Yes, actually. Maybe it’s because of the Existential Evolution, but I don’t really feel any pain at all. I seem largely uninjured,” I said, inspecting my body as I responded to Lorraine’s concerned query. 

“I can see that, Rentt. You are indeed uninjured—not that I can say the same for my house, however. I should get about to fixing that now...” 

Lorraine stood in place, weaving a spell under her breath. In a few seconds, the damaged wall slowly covered its gaping wound, and before long it was whole once more. 

It was a simple wall, made of bricks and the like, so it didn’t require complicated magical repairs. But spells used to mend holes and other damages weren’t as simple as attack magic. They were highly complicated and technical spells, requiring a fair amount of knowledge from the caster. Lorraine seemed to specialize in spells of this nature, and was able to repair the damage without even lifting a finger. 

Most individuals who were well-versed in spells of this nature were mages belonging to one architectural guild or another, and they often sold their services to nobles and other rich clients in the capital. Needless to say, such mages were a relatively rare sight. 

It was by no means easy to learn the spells in question, and even if one did grasp the basics, actual application of such magics was difficult at best. 

But Lorraine, on the other hand... She didn’t seem to have too many issues on her part. Even if she stopped being a scholar one day, there was no doubt she could easily make a living in other, more varied fields. 

My future, in comparison, was slightly more dull. What would I do if I ever stopped adventuring? Become a staff member of the adventurer’s guild, perhaps? If memory served, Sheila had said something of the sort. But I didn’t have any intentions of returning, of course. 

“And that is that, as far as the wall goes. Now, if I had to guess...that was you infusing spirit into your wings, yes?” 

Lorraine turned to me as she finished up the last bits of her repairs. I nodded in response. 

“That’s right. I infused a large amount of mana into my wings, but could only float at a low altitude. I assumed it would be safe to infuse an equally large amount of spirit at once, as well...” 

“Sometimes, I am not quite sure if you think too much, or if you do not think at all, Rentt... Experimenting slowly would not exactly kill you. Why the rush?” 

Lorraine was reprimanding me with that exasperated expression of hers, one I had become familiar with over the years. 

But it was as she said: I should have infused a small amount into my wings as a precaution. I had been consumed by my lust for flight, and my haste eventually caused a minor accident. I couldn’t refute Lorraine’s points. 

“I’ll be more careful next time.” 

“Will you now, Rentt? I sure hope you do remember. How about slowly infusing spirit into your wings this time?” 

I nodded obediently at Lorraine’s suggestion. It would be a problem if I flew off randomly in some strange direction again. 

I positioned myself in the center of the room. Maybe it would have been wise to face my back toward the unfortunate wall, for I had no way of knowing where I would fly to next. Either way, it was safe to assume I wouldn’t be creating any more holes in Lorraine’s home as long as I didn’t infuse an unreasonable amount of spirit into my wings all at once. 

Surprisingly, a small amount was enough to generate a notable amount of forward thrust with my wings—as Lorraine said, I had drastically overdone it previously. 

My thrust velocity increased with the intensity of my spirit infusion—somewhat straightforward. I soon reached a safety threshold, however. Any more and I would be carrying out unauthorized renovations. 

It seemed difficult to conduct any more tests indoors. Lorraine, who was observing my movements, had yet another suggestion to give. 

“Hmm. So, spirit generates thrust, and mana allows you to float freely... Could you not move with an infusion of mana alone? Or is that not possible?” 

“I wouldn’t say that... Maybe a little.” 

To demonstrate, I let the spirit in my wings fade, then infused them with mana once more. I floated a little to the left and right, though they were considerably slow movements. But I was still moving. If I had to say, I was floating from side to side at a walking pace. 

“Would you not be able to fly if you floated with mana, and then pushed yourself forward with spirit, Rentt?” 

“I haven’t tried that. I suppose I should...here.” 

Utilizing both forces would be somewhat difficult from a technical perspective, but I was able to do something similar with my mana-spirit Fusion Arts. Of course, one who had trained their skills in a more orthodox fashion would probably regard my methodologies as strange. Personally, however, I was used to my haphazard applications, so it was completely possible for me to infuse my wings with both spirit and mana at the same time. 

I had my concerns, like suddenly flying off in a random direction again. The effects of mana-spirit Fusion Arts were also concerning, to say the least, especially given such an attack with my blade caused the internal organs of my target to violently implode... In that vein, I would very much prefer my wings didn’t do the same. 

I should be very careful... 

And so it came to be that I began infusing small amounts of spirit and mana into my wings, in a somewhat fearful and apprehensive manner. Surprisingly, I didn’t explode, nor did any part of me implode. In fact, I had moved forward a considerable distance, and was now able to alter my speed by changing the amount of spirit in my wings. This was pretty good. 

No, very good! I’m flying! 

At least, I felt like I was flying. In reality, I was still floating a short distance off the ground. Nonetheless, the excitement I felt was genuine. 

With a strong burst of spirit, I could fly to significant heights, then slowly glide down from such altitudes. Strictly speaking, I was gliding more than I was flying. Then, a sudden understanding dawned over me. 

I’ve evolved! Existential Evolution has caused me to evolve into a flying squirrel!!! 

Wait... 

That wasn’t quite what I wanted to say. Not even close. 

Why did I evolve from a Thrall into a flying squirrel? That made no sense. And why hadn’t I imploded yet...? I concentrated, and I soon discovered the answer in the flow of energies coursing through my wings. 

To be precise, they were separate streams of energy unlike the volatile mix I had used in my mana-spirit Fusion Art attacks. My bat-like wings were comprised of soft flight membranes and a more rigid supporting structure. According to Lorraine’s scientific observations, the membranes were flight membranes, and the stiff parts were phalanx bones. Regardless, mana coursed through these membranes, and spirit through my bones—in separate streams, of course. 

Curious, I attempted infusing spirit into the membranes and vice versa, but it didn’t seem physically possible. I suppose the two shouldn’t really be mixed on a daily basis, primarily because they would explode otherwise. Were my wings designed with these considerations in mind? Not that I knew much of monster physiology. 

I explained my thoughts to Lorraine. 

“Hoh, most interesting, Rentt... But yes, of course, considering the implications of Fusion-Arts in physiology... Logically sound, yes. I cannot offer any concrete statements until after I have performed a thorough examination. But with this, it seems like you can fly with those wings of yours. You see, Rentt? Not so useless after all. All’s well that ends well.” 

A soft smile illuminated her features. She continued. 

“The last experiment would be divinity...” 

Having infused my wings with both mana and spirit, I suppose this was the logical thing to check off the proverbial list. 

Divinity was, in many ways, a special ability. It was potent, but the nature of one’s divinity also varied, depending on the entity that had conferred the blessing to begin with. In my case, I was blessed by some spirits that had inhabited a broken-down shrine I was compelled to fix. From what I had seen, they were plant spirits of some kind—well, if Clope’s observations were anything to go by. To channel such divinity through my monstrous wings, however... There were far too many variables in place for me to think of any plausible precedents or possibilities as to what may happen. 

Regardless, I still had to try it. It would be crucial knowledge to have, especially in life-or-death situations. Knowing one’s tools were just as important as knowing when and where to use them—one of the many basic tenets of adventuring, and one most veteran adventurers were familiar with. 

With a deep breath, I calmed my mind, mentally preparing myself for what may pass. Slowly but surely, I felt the divinity flow into my wings. And then... 

“Beautiful... Truly...” 

Strange words, especially from Lorraine’s lips. 

“Eh?” 

“Well...you see, Rentt. Your wings are...glowing.” 

It goes without saying that even I was surprised at those words. 

What does Lorraine mean? My wings are literally glowing? 

That was the first thing that crossed my mind as I processed Lorraine’s words. I turned around regardless, if only to affirm what she said, then promptly stared at my reflection in the mirror. 

It was exactly as she said: unlike how they were mere moments ago, the wings on my back were glowing, shrouded in a bright, white light. It wasn’t a harsh light; certainly not the glow of attack magics or one that conveyed hostility. If anything, it was gentle and soft, with specks of light falling from them like flakes of silent snow. 

I could see why Lorraine said as such. The light shrouding my wings was fantastical, almost unbelievable in its nature. 

Now, while that was all well and good, I had one qualm with my newly-glowing wings. 

“Beautiful...perhaps. But what exactly does this mean...?” I pondered, tilting my head as I continued to think. 

Infusing mana and spirit generated lift and thrust respectively. It was an easily observable phenomenon, but this was something else altogether. 

Divinity was a strong force, and much more potent than mana and spirit. While I had been hoping for a more marked and dramatic effect, it seemed like infusing my wings with divinity just made them glow. I felt a great sense of disappointment. 

What was I to do with the fact that I could now become a human torch at will? If I were to compare a human torch with a flying squirrel or any of its evolutionary counterparts, the latter would surely be more useful. I greatly preferred flight over a strange light source. 

“Well, Rentt, it would certainly make you easier to spot in the dark... Hm? This...” As if noticing something, Lorraine turned away, leaving her unfinished joke hanging in the air. 

Following her gaze, I realized she was staring at none other than a pot of herbs I had left in a corner. It was placed in the sunniest spot of my borrowed room, and I often used the plants for culinary purposes, occasionally even preserving food with their leaves. What was so out of the ordinary about a potted plant I cultivated in my spare time? 

Lorraine remained silent, observing the plant intensely. 

“Rentt...I think your plant is...growing.” 

It looked a little bigger than it was just a moment ago, but I could argue it was nothing more than an optical illusion of sorts. Lorraine, as if reading my mind, promptly strode over to the pot, picking it up and exposing it to the light of my wings. Almost immediately, the herbs in the pot began growing at a rapid pace, stretching and trailing this way and that. 

“This...” 

“So, if you infuse divinity into your wings, Rentt, plants around you grow at a faster rate! But...I am not quite sure how to interpret this observation...” 

Lorraine seemed pleased at the fact her hypothesis turned out to be correct, but she soon caught herself in the midst of her own celebration, and was once again deeply immersed in thought. 

I echoed Lorraine’s sentiments: was there any meaning to my wings behaving in such a manner? Alas, even I had no answers. 

“Maybe I could fly around in the skies, occasionally stopping to bless people with a bountiful harvest?” 

“I see. How noble of you, Rentt. Are you saying you would stop adventuring and instead explore the possibilities of becoming a mobile fertilizer merchant?” 

No. That really didn’t seem like a very appealing career. 

But I couldn’t deny I was apparently capable of such. 

Even I had heard rumors of those who had been blessed by spirits or gods of the land, and how they were capable of feats similar to what I had just done. Those blessed by the land are promised an eventually bountiful harvest, but their fields would still have to be naturally cultivated and harvested after a period of time. In my case, I seemed capable of accelerating a plant’s growth, skipping that waiting period completely. It was undoubtedly a useful ability. 

If I were to enter a church or religious organization somewhere in these lands, I would surely be worshiped as a harvest saint, or something along those lines. Those who didn’t think too highly of me, on the other hand, would most likely think of me as some sort of on-demand fertilizing service. 

It goes without saying, though, that I had no interest whatsoever in the agricultural trades. As I was so fond of reminding myself, my aim was to ultimately become a Mithril-class adventurer. 

Predictably, I turned to Lorraine and informed her as such: “I have no intentions of quitting. But...I suppose there must be some more uses I haven’t thought of yet...” 

“Well, even I could assume as much. Maybe... Hm. Yes, why not...” 

Maybe Lorraine felt like she should take responsibility for suggesting I become a magical farmer. 

As if coming up with an idea, Lorraine reached into her robes, and was holding something in the palm of her hand. 

Now, what could that be...? 

“What are you planning to do with that knife, Lorraine...?” 

“Ah, nothing much, you see. Just...this.” Lorraine casually responded as she nicked the top of her thumb with the instrument’s blade. 

It was a familiar motion to Lorraine, visible in how she handled the knife. This was probably to be expected, given how magical contracts and certain alchemical techniques often required a drop or two of blood. Lorraine, for her part, hardly seemed bothered by the small cut on her thumb. In addition, Lorraine had been providing me with vials of blood as of late, so I suppose she would be used to the act now more than ever. 

What I didn’t understand was why Lorraine had cut her thumb. As if responding to my curious gaze, Lorraine simply raised her injured appendage to my glowing wings. 

“Gone, as expected.” 

Lorraine showed her thumb to me. 

“I see. Your thumb is completely healed...so I guess the light has curative capabilities.” 

“One way to put it, yes. Is this not worth celebrating, Rentt? Not only can you fertilize their fields, you can also heal the wounds and ailments of the hardworking farmers!” 

Another one of her jokes, I hope; even so, Lorraine had a point. We had just discovered another potential use to these shining wings. 

It was reasonable to assume flying over a certain area while having divinity infused into these wings would heal the people dwelling within. While a priest or priestess-saint blessed with curative powers would easily perform such feats, I was previously only able to heal one person at a time. A small improvement on my part, but an improvement nonetheless. 

“A plain effect...but it is much better than having none at all.” 

“Quite. Think of the possibilities, Rentt! They might even worship you if you portray yourself right! You do glow, after all. Just claim you are a messenger of the gods, or something along those lines.” 

Yet another one of Lorraine’s jokes, I suppose...but her statement had a ring of truth to it. However, the mere thought of being worshiped and making such claims terrified me. I didn’t wish for such strange kinds of attention, at the very least. I would have to choose when to use this ability somewhat carefully. 

“But then again, I am a solo adventurer... There doesn’t seem to be many opportunities for me to use this, Lorraine.” 

A lonely statement, but one that was true: more often than not, I adventured alone. What would a solo adventurer like me do with an area-of-effect healing skill such as this? 

Lorraine didn’t seem to agree. 

“I would not necessarily say that, Rentt. Do you not recall the times where monsters multiply unnaturally? Adventurers head out en masse in response, no? Those capable of wide-area healing skills are treasured, yes? But of course, such events were always answered with a Compulsory Request by the guild...” 

Lorraine was referring to the occasional multiplication of monsters around towns. To immediately dispose of the threat, adventurer guilds often mobilized all their members to thin the numbers. Such encounters often resemble miniature wars due to the sheer numbers involved, and adventurers skilled in healing techniques were often highly valued by the guild. These adventurers capable of healing magic or divinity were rare, and most could only tend to one person at once. As such, any adventurer who had the ability to heal individuals in a given area were treated as treasures in their own right. 

Under normal circumstances, adventurers could bow out of Compulsory Requests if they had a good reason for it, or if they weren’t crucial to the effort. An area-of-effect healer, however, would most likely be dragged to the battlefield regardless of their personal opinions. 

I suppose this ability of mine would have to be hidden, then... 

But...that would go against my conscience as an adventurer. Even if I weren’t human, I would still answer the guild’s call should such an event ever come to pass. If I ignored it, there might be a chance that monsters would make their way into Maalt, so regretting my choice then would be far too late. In fact, I now looked more human than ever, so I wouldn’t be hunted down immediately based on my appearance alone. 

I suppose I would still run into issues if there were an adventurer in their midst with a good eye. The most I could do was not stand out very much—or at least, that was what I thought. 

“I would give up and go along with the guild if that ever comes to pass... But I’d greatly prefer if we could do something about this glow...” 

Even if I were to utilize my newly-attained healing skills, having a pair of glowing wings on my back was a little too much for me. 

For a while, I held my head in exasperation, searching for some sort of solution. Given how I was now, being treated as some sort of divine angel was the last thing I wanted. 

“With this, we have performed all the applicable tests in regards to your wings,” Lorraine announced, an expression of great satisfaction on her face. 

On Lorraine’s instructions, I attempted to fly while infusing my wings with divinity. As per my previous experiments, it seemed like divinity and mana each flowed through different structures within my wings, and, thankfully, no Fusion-Art mishap related explosions occurred. I suppose there was sufficient separation within my wings to prevent such an accident. 

My wings were newly developed with my latest evolution. But I was most deeply grateful that they had been engineered not to violently implode, explode, or any mixture thereof. In exchange, the sudden bursts of destructive power observed during my utilization of blade-based Fusion-Arts couldn’t be replicated in my wings. As far as I was concerned, though, being able to fly was more than enough. Expecting any more would be asking a little too much from my newly-grown wings. 

“Ah...yes. There was one thing... What is it, exactly, that I’ve evolved into...?” I asked, suddenly aware of the fact Lorraine hadn’t classified me into a monster type as she normally did on such occasions. 

I felt Lorraine had a general idea of what I had become, but I had yet to press her for the specifics. Lorraine, meanwhile, shook her head at my question. 

“Honestly, Rentt, I have no idea,” she said, still shaking her head. 

“Come now Lorraine. You seem like you have a general idea. You were reading that tome on Vampires as I woke. Surely you did so because you had some idea of what I could be?” 

Of course, Lorraine could have simply been thumbing through the book in a panic, searching for something resembling the creature I had become. But Lorraine didn’t seem to be in much of a rush while she was reading. It seemed more like Lorraine already had a general idea of what I’d become and was just checking the tome to verify her assumptions so as to inform me as I woke. 

Perhaps I was mistaken in my reasoning; either way, Lorraine continued her explanation. 

“Well, I suppose you could say that... But you see, Rentt... I can no longer be sure after seeing those wings of yours. Vampires are not monsters with wings in the first place. They are mostly indistinguishable from humans—they do have fangs for sucking blood, of course, but... Ah! Yes, that. What about your face? Adjust your mask so I can see.” 

I nodded, shifting my mask to give Lorraine a better look. I mentally willed the mask to alter its shape, and soon exposed the lower half of my face. Although I wanted to give Lorraine a more complete view, this was a stable shape that could be maintained for a long time, and it was ultimately the one I adopted. 

Before, my molars and jawbones were visible, with bits of dried flesh and muscle clinging onto my skin here and there, Lorraine let out a small gasp as she carried out her inspection. 

“Oh! You have actual flesh there now. That same soft, slick skin as the rest of you... How detestable. But yes, your skin is undoubtedly pale. If I have to say, you hardly look like a healthy individual.” 

Although Lorraine made such a claim, I personally found her ability to maintain a relatively smooth complexion while living such a messy and unhealthy lifestyle a more impressive feat. 

Come to think of it, Sheila had made such a complaint recently. Although her skin was somewhat smooth and beautiful by itself, she spent a fair amount of time and money on its maintenance, so that much was to be expected. 

Lorraine herself was no stranger to such practices, manufacturing her own high-quality skincare products and other cosmetics with her alchemical abilities. Her daily habits and food choices left much to be desired, however, so it was unsurprising her actions got on the nerves of the more mundane womenfolk of Maalt. 

“I can’t really wrap my head around the concept of a healthy Undead, Lorraine...” 

“Hm. I suppose that is a fair point, Rentt. On one hand, you are dead, yet on the other, Undead. Is being alive in death not the best state of health...? But enough semantics. You do have fangs. Unmistakably those of a Vampire—I would think so, at least...” 

Lorraine raised her hands to my cheeks, and soon began roughly manipulating them—pushing, pulling, pressing—apparently trying to get a better look. 

“Not as obvious as I thought it would be, no? Well...one does not exactly have the chance to observe Vampire teeth on a daily basis, yes... Most interesting. However, I cannot yet say with confidence that you are a Vampire... It could just be a particularly sharp set of teeth you have... Hmm...” 

Finally releasing my long-suffering cheeks, Lorraine walked over to the table, picking up a vial of blood before returning. 

“Open wide, Rentt.” 

I obediently opened my mouth. Lorraine promptly opened the bottle, dipping a small wooden stick into the vial, and placed the bloodstained instrument into my mouth. 

“Oh. Hmm. It seems like your fangs extend when you think of sucking blood. Would it not be easy to identify Vampires, then? But one does not simply get all the townsfolk to line up and open their mouths for a test... I suppose that was a silly thought.” 

It seemed Lorraine was using me as a model to come up with some Vampire-detection test to use on the townsfolk of Maalt. But as she had surmised, such a method would be strange at best since it was impossible to have all the townsfolk participate. On top of that, Vampires commonly lived in tightly-knit groups of multiple individuals. Even if one was found, it would surely inform the rest. More often than not, it was simply more efficient to summon a priest or priestess-saint skilled in identifying monsters, who would then spend some time locating and eradicating the monsters in question. Lorraine’s technique was probably useful as a supplementary method of identification. 

“Well, then, Rentt. Show me the upper half of your face next... Vampires have red eyes, after all.” 

Nodding, I altered the shape of my mask once more, this time exposing the upper half of my apparently flesh-filled face. 

“Ah, yes. How nostalgic... That face of yours, I mean. A far cry from how it used to be, with those empty holes and strands of exposed muscle and flesh. You were quite removed from your human features at one point...” 

Lorraine reached out to touch my face. Her hands were gentle, not like the rough manipulation she had exposed my cheeks to moments ago. 

“Looking at you now, I feel like I should say something to your face...” 

I tilted my head at Lorraine. “What is it?” 

“What else could it be?”

Welcome back, Rentt Faina. 

Were the words Lorraine said. 

I felt like something had truly returned to me; a renewed sense of humanity, perhaps? Or maybe...I was just imagining things. 

“Well, then...regarding the specifics of your classification as a Vampire...” 

It was just like Lorraine to suddenly jump from a somewhat emotional conversation to cold scientific dialogue. Though I suppose what she was about to say was equally important. 

“So...what do you think, ultimately?” 

“Well...if I had to guess, you have evolved into a Lesser Vampire of some kind. A variant, perhaps. Definitely a step above a Thrall, and something along the veins of a Vampire. I could not find a firm classification in the end, however. Your eyes are red, you have fangs which react to the presence of blood... All those considered, you are indeed a Vampire, but I cannot be sure of much else.” 

An unusually vague statement, given her usual disposition. 

Perhaps my discontentment was evident in my face, for Lorraine frowned in response, curtly continuing her explanation. 

“What else would you have me do, Rentt? I have never heard of any sort of Vampire with wings. You expect far too much of a rural, border-town scholar such as myself. In addition...you are far too removed from most monsters. Your body is special, and you are...different. Due to your unique nature, you would not fit in any preexisting classifications or noted variants or subspecies. That would be the most accurate observation. At the very most I could say you are an existence close to a certain kind of Lesser Vampire, but again, that is all I can objectively say.” 

“So, does the discussion not end there if you phrase it that way, Lorraine?” 

“Exactly. This was why I originally intended on not saying anything, Rentt.” 

Lorraine was slightly annoyed; maybe she expected me to say nothing if I had already arrived at a similar conclusion myself. I suppose I was being slightly thick... 

“I apologize.” 

“It is fine if you understand. Jokes aside, you have evolved somewhat smoothly, have you not? At the very least, there is no reason to doubt that you are constantly evolving and bettering yourself. I do wonder, though... What would you become in the end, Rentt? Not something I could ever imagine, I suppose. Having some strange wings that defy classification when you are simply a variant of Lesser Vampire... Are you going to grow horns, twenty arms, and maybe fifty eyeballs next? Even if you did, I would hardly be surprised.” 

“I pray I don’t become anything like that...” 

Her words provoked some twisted image of a crazed monster fitting her description in my mind. 

Lorraine’s point was valid, though, as there was no precedent to assume I wouldn’t become a strange, inhuman being. If possible, I simply wanted to remain like this—and for the rest of the day, my thoughts were fixated on that very topic. 

“Did you really need to bring that with you?” Lorraine asked as we both walked down the streets of Maalt. 

I nodded deeply at her question. “It is not a question of need, Lorraine. I brought it with me because I wanted to bring it with me.” 

Held in my hands was none other than the remote control mechanism of the little airship. I was casually infusing mana into it as I walked. I had done the same after Lorraine and I had wrapped up our discussion of Vampires the day before, but I was unfortunately unable to fill up the crystal entirely. I was doing the same today, slowly infusing the crystal in light of my magical deficiencies. 

As a result of my consistent hard work, however, the crystal seemed to be mostly full—about seventy percent, if I had to guess. I still had quite a bit of mana left in me, though, and with that, the little airship could probably fly for about two hours. Logistically accounted for. 

On another note, the place we were headed toward right now was none other than... 

“Hm. This is the place, yes? Ah, a knocker...” 

Arriving at our destination, I stared on silently as Lorraine nodded to herself, raising a hand to the familiar-looking knocker. I held my peace, observing Lorraine with my bated breath. 

Lorraine grasped the knocker with some force, intending to utilize it as anyone would and— 

Crack. 

With an equally familiar sound, the knocker, base and all, detached itself from the door. 

“It is not my fault... I am innocent. It was broken from the start.” Lorraine slowly turned her head to face me, looking straight into my eyes as she declared her innocence in a panicked voice. 

While she may seem somewhat collected to the average onlooker, I had known Lorraine for a considerable amount of time, so the unfortunate fate of the knocker really had gotten to her. 

But of course, anyone would be surprised at a door knocker detaching itself without any rhyme or reason, especially if one wasn’t even being rough with it. I, too, had been surprised by this mechanism twice in the past. 

Lorraine’s observations were correct: it was I who had broken the knocker in the first place... But I didn’t have to state that. Lorraine didn’t have to know—and a panicked Lorraine was a rare sight. 

I predicted such a thing would happen, and had prepared an extra-strong adhesive, refined from slime fluid, for this very purpose. Silently placing some adhesive upon the door, I took the knocker from Lorraine, holding it in place without a word. In just a few minutes, the knocker looked pristine, as if it had never been detached in the first place. 

Still maintaining my silence, I calmly knocked on the door with a knuckle—after all, one doesn’t attempt to use just any door knocker they find. 

“Yes? Who is it... Ah! AH! Rentt!” 

Alize poked her head out from behind the door of Maalt’s Second Orphanage. 

Yes, the place Lorraine and I had traveled to was none other than this. Our aim was to take Alize in as our collective disciple, and to also have Lorraine meet the child in person. We had to speak with Sister Lillian first, however, on account of her being the administrator of the orphanage. This was why we had made the journey here, adhesive and all. 

Alize seemed intensely excited to see us. She threw the door open, happily leading us into the orphanage’s hallways. 

“You came at such a good time, Rentt! We just received word today that the medicine is ready! We can cure Lady Lillian’s illness once and for all!” 

My original request was to deliver a single Dragon Blood Blossom to the orphanage—what happened to it after was anyone’s guess. I, however, had become somewhat invested in the fate of Sister Lillian, and wanted to know how she was doing. The request was issued with the purpose of healing her in the first place, so to walk away because the request was over was a somewhat lowly thing to do. I had played a fair part in the process, after all. 

But there were a fair number of adventurers who did just that. They would deliver what they were contracted to deliver, then never see the client again. While some of my colleagues were somewhat detached in that regard, I was personally more interested in the eventual outcome of the situation. 

On that note, Alize’s cheerful notification came at exactly the right time. 

“Oh... Right, Rentt. Who’s that lady over there?” 

The three of us were seated in a familiar reception room. Alize was referring to Lorraine, turning to look at her as she asked me for an answer. Given that I had always visited by my lonesome, I suppose it was right for Alize to treat my companion with a certain degree of curiosity. 

I didn’t always travel or work alone—Rentt Faina had friends, too! 

Realistically speaking...I couldn’t call anyone other than Lorraine and Sheila “friends” at this point in time. A pitiful thought, but, regardless, I nodded, offering Alize an answer. 

“Ah, I have not yet introduced myself, have I. A pleasure to meet you, Alize. I am Lorraine Vivie, scholar, mage, and occasional Silver-class adventurer. I am here today in the capacity of a magical tutor, Alize, namely to educate you in the ways of magic.” 

Something seemed to finally click in Alize’s mind. 

“A mage! And a Silver-class one?! I... I am Alize. Is... Is this really all right? I have little in the way of coin, and I’m also an orphan...” 

Alize had defaulted to her more formal way of speech once more, perhaps because she had never met Lorraine before. 

I remembered my initial meeting with the child. Judging from her overall choice of words, Alize was suggesting she wasn’t worth Lorraine’s time; while I had mentioned I would bring her a magical tutor, I perhaps left out the fact that Lorraine was a Silver-class adventurer. Mages were a rare breed in these lands, so a mage of the Silver-class would appear to have command over incomprehensible magics and arcane spells. That was how a relatively normal person would view them. 

They would also come across as dangerous—infinitely more dangerous than the common gangs of street thugs. If one had crossed some thugs, they would at most be brutalized by a flurry of punches and kicks. If one had done the same to a Silver-class mage, however, they may very well be reduced to ash in the blink of an eye, never again to see the light of day. 

How terrifying, Lorraine... 

As if telepathically probing my thoughts, Lorraine shot me a death glare before turning back almost instantly. Alize seemed oblivious to this, and she was speaking with a somewhat more pronounced smile. 

“I heard about your arrangement with Rentt. Was the coin not accounted for that way? I also enjoy the fact that he is now indebted to me, so there are no problems there. With regards to you being an orphan, well, I could not care less about such matters. Ah, I do not mean that in a derogatory way. I simply mean to say I would offer my services to individuals of any social standing, as long as they were willing to learn. I am a mage, but also a scholar, after all. The path to knowledge is not paved by gold or one’s position in society, but passion. That is why I would like to ask of you: have you enough passion? That would be all I need to know.” 

Quite the lengthy speech...is what I would have thought. Something else other than its length caught my attention, though. Why the path to knowledge? Last I checked, Alize wanted to be an adventurer, not a scholar. 

I wanted to point this out to Lorraine right away. But as usual, the current atmosphere would hardly permit me to do such a thing. 

Alize swallowed hard and closed her eyes, apparently lost in thought. Soon after, she had an answer for Lorraine. 

“I don’t have much in the way of coin, yes... But I have passion. I’ve wanted to become an adventurer to help Lady Lillian, but now... Now, I want to become an adventurer—an adventurer like Rentt. I want to become an adventurer who helps other people. I’ve heard many things from Rentt, and know full well that it’s not a simple task. Even so...I want to help. I want to try...doing good work. If studies and hard work are required, and I must give my all, then I will. I will give it everything I’ve got. So...” 

Alize seemed to have trouble finding the appropriate words. She delivered her lines somewhat stutteringly, as if her train of thought was constantly being interrupted. But it was clear to see Alize had given the question posed to her a fair amount of thought. She tried her utmost best to communicate what she felt in those few stuttering lines; that much was understood. 

This was probably why Lorraine nodded deeply at Alize’s words. 

“Very well. With this, the contract is sealed. From this day, Alize, you are my disciple—the first disciple of scholar-magus Lorraine Vivie. Let us walk the path of magecraft and knowledge together!” 

Alize responded enthusiastically to Lorraine’s words, a wide smile plastered across her face. It was a beautiful, moving moment, the instant in which the bond between a teacher and their disciple was formed. 

But...the path of magecraft and knowledge? 

Knowledge... Eh...? Wait. Wait. But Alize isn’t a scholar! She just said she wanted to become an adventurer! 

I wanted to shout a cry that would echo from the bottom of my heart. Alas, it was impossible to do—again, not in the current atmosphere. Eventually, as the realities of the situation continued stacking on top of each other, I was forced to realize Alize would now become an individual like Lorraine—a scholar-magus, apparently. Or something like that. 

But...Alize is my disciple, too... 

Although many thoughts crossed my mind, I held my tongue. 

“Well, then. Now that Alize has agreed to the arrangement, all that is left is to seek approval from the orphanage’s administrator. This...Sister Lillian, was it? Would it be right to assume she is the administrator?” Lorraine asked. 

Alize, being one of the orphanage’s children, was technically bound by its rules, and Sister Lillian’s views on the matter had to be determined. Although she had some degree of autonomy in her day-to-day life, discussions concerning her future were probably best conducted with all parties present. We could simply march Alize out of the orphanage and proceed without verbal authority, but it wouldn’t be a polite thing to do. 

There would be no issues with purchasing items, or accepting requests from the guild, but... 

Lorraine had already taken this all into account, hence her question. Alize nodded, offering a quick answer. 

“Yes, Lady Lillian is the administrator of this orphanage, and is a nun with the Church of the Eastern Sky. She is currently bedridden, but the medicine we ordered should be on its way soon...” 

“Ah, the request Rentt took on a while ago, yes? In that case...would it be a bad time for us to visit? If she is unwell, we could always come again another day,” Lorraine said, in an uncharacteristically flexible and mature manner. 

Alize, however, shook her head. “No, that is quite all right. I had already informed Lady Lillian that guests would be visiting today... Please, this way.” 

Alize stood up and led us out of the room. 

Sister Lillian was most likely still in the room I had seen her in last. She seemed to still have trouble moving about. Personally, I felt we could have visited after she had recovered, but if the sister herself felt she was well enough to see us, then it would be impolite of us to refuse. 

Giving Lorraine a quick sideways glance, we both stood, following Alize out of the small reception room. 

“Begging your pardon, Lady Lillian,” Alize said, rapping on the door softly. 

A soft voice soon motioned for us to enter. It wasn’t a healthy voice, but the good sister seemed a little more lively than usual. Maybe she was in better spirits today. 

I didn’t know if Alize mentioned anything of the medicine to Sister Lillian, but I knew she would eventually recover, given recent developments. Maybe that was why I felt that she seemed more...healthy. 

Beyond the door and lying prone on a bed was a middle-aged woman—not much had changed since my previous visit. 

“Ah... You are the adventurer from a while ago. Mister Rentt. I have heard of your deeds. It seems you have defeated the monsters in the basement storage...” 

It had to have been my face, my robes, or my overall strange getup, but my appearance definitely caused a memory to surface in the good sister’s mind, and she addressed me almost immediately. 

Like she said, at least on paper, I was here to clean up the monster-infested basement...and in truth, I had done just that. But “defeat” wasn’t quite the right choice of words. Then again, the sister said little of turning those monsters into my familiars. 

On another note, Edel had seen fit to visit the orphanage before we did, and was currently playing around with his subordinates. The mouse generally kept himself busy, at least when we weren’t plumbing the depths of a labyrinth. Though, I had hardly given him permission to do so. Edel simply loved running off on his own. 

Strictly speaking, I managed just fine without Edel most of the time, and he was more useful during combat encounters, so I suppose this was fine. As a familiar, however, I would have preferred a stronger sense of loyalty—but that was a topic for another time. 

I drew my attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“It wasn’t a big deal. I’m more pleased to know the orphanage can now return to more peaceful days,” I said to Sister Lillian. 

“No, no, Mister Rentt. You have done us a great service. No matter how small the monster, it would surely grow in strength if left alone. I had heard the monsters in the basement were Puchi Suri, and if those grew in number, it would have been quite troublesome...” 

Sister Lillian was right. Although Puchi Suri were small, mouse-like monsters that didn’t seem to pose much of a threat, the true danger was their ability to colonize towns and cities by multiplying and creating huge populations. Very rarely, a strong specimen might appear among them, and this large Puchi Suri would spend years—decades, even—quietly amassing its power in a city’s streets, or maybe the sewers. It would rule over its brethren and build a huge nest, eventually amassing an impossibly huge army of Puchi Suri... 

That was what I’d heard, anyway. Nonetheless, I could no longer remember where exactly I heard it from, so I decided to forget about this little caveat almost instantly. I didn’t want to think of a scenario whereby Edel became some sort of underground mouse mob boss. To begin with, such an endeavor would take him a long time, and, if such an event came to pass, Edel was still my familiar. 

“There weren’t that many of them. Also, Alize managed to take one down herself.” 

I hadn’t expected Sister Lillian to be so surprised at what I just said. 

“Alize did? Really, now?” She cast glances at Alize and me. 

Alize’s face slightly soured, and she slowly gave an answer. 

“Yes, Lady Lillian...” 

Had I said something bad? I quickly added on to my explanation. 

“I wanted her to gain some experience, in the event of anything untoward happening in the future. Was that unnecessary?” 

“No... Nothing of the sort. But...Alize, you should have informed me such a thing had come to pass.” 

A fair warning, but the good sister didn’t seem upset. 

“My apologies, Lady Lillian... I didn’t wish to worry you.” 

“But I am fine, Alize... You should not worry so much about me.” 

The two seemed to care about each other a great deal. I, on the other hand, was simply relieved there were no uncomfortable tensions in the atmosphere. 

“Ah... Yes. Now, who would that be, over there?” Sister Lillian asked, turning to Lorraine. 

“I am Lorraine Vivie, scholar-magus. An old friend of Rentt—quite some years, at that. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lillian.” 

“I see... I am the administrator of this orphanage, Sister Lillian of the Church of the Eastern Sky. Please, the pleasure is mine. What brings the two of you here today...?” 

Just as we were about to answer, more loud raps came from beyond the door, followed by a few louder voices... 

“Big sister Alize! Misters Unbert and Norman are here!” 

The younger children of the orphanage, judging from their voices. 

Alize had always answered the door when there were guests, as it seemed the other children were too young to appropriately do so. 

If memory served, those two were the healer and herbalist I had spoken to when delivering the Dragon Blood Blossoms. Last I checked, they were off to make medicine with them. 

“Ah...” Alize fidgeted upon hearing those names. “Would it be all right if I answered the door, Lady Lillian? There is no one else...” 

The other children probably could have answered the door, but having walked through the orphanage once, it was fair to assume the older children had moved on at some point. Even so, it was only natural that Alize was eager to answer the door. Sister Lillian, for her part, seemed to understand the situation, and she smiled somewhat awkwardly. 

“I do not mind, but what about your guests, Alize...? Would it not be rude to simply leave them here?” 

Lorraine and I weren’t really bothered by these developments, so we both gave our responses. 

“We’ll be fine, Alize.” 

“Yes. We must speak with Sister Lillian regarding some other matters, too. You should run along, Alize.” 

Sister Lillian tilted her head slightly at our choice of words, but didn’t offer any other words of protest. 

“We thank you for your hospitality. Go then, Alize. Do return as quickly as possible,” Sister Lillian’s tone was somewhat stricter now. 

“Yes. I do apologize, Rentt, Lorraine. I will return soon...” Alize said, bowing her head as she left the room. 

Sister Lillian sighed as the door closed behind her. “She was always a jittery child. I do apologize. My efforts at instilling into her the appropriate manners were lacking, it seems...” 

Personally, I felt Sister Lillian hardly had anything to apologize for. But Lorraine was the first to respond accordingly. 

“No, nothing of the sort, Miss Lillian. Alize is beyond capable for her age. She is a polite and pleasant child. In addition, she is also...quite talented,” Lorraine said, purposefully. 

Her last words predictably caught the good sister’s attention. 

“Talent, you say...?” 

“Yes. I had affirmed it with these very eyes prior. Alize is a talented child. To be precise, she has a fair talent for...magecraft,” Lorraine declared, in response to the sister’s question. 

Under normal circumstances, it was impossible for someone to gauge another person’s magical capacity, especially if the person in question was just sitting idly. A veteran mage, however, was capable of such a feat. There was a certain technique to it—ascertaining another’s magical capacity just by looking at them. Lorraine, in particular, had quite the eyes for it; magical eyes of her own, perhaps. As such, there was no one else more qualified than Lorraine when it came to discerning the magical capacity and innate capabilities of an individual. This was part of the reason why Lorraine had come to the orphanage, though meeting Alize in person was also a factor. 

It goes without saying that I wasn’t capable of such feats. Although I had enough mana in me to qualify as a mage of some sort, magecraft was something governed by logic and theory. That was knowledge I had yet to learn. 

In life, I learned simple cantrips and spells. So simple were they that only a small amount of mana was required for their execution. For the record, I had been using those very same spells all this time. If I were to utilize higher levels of magecraft, however, I would probably require more detailed study and understanding. 

“A mage...? She does have some mana in her, yes, but what about her capacity...?” 

I suppose Sister Lillian never sent Alize for a detailed examination. While many individuals were born with mana in them, not all of them had enough of it to become mages in any capacity. To verify this, one had to be examined by a veteran mage, preferably with the assistance of finely-calibrated magical tools. Of course, this process would cost a fair amount of coin, regardless of the result. Hardly a sum an orphanage could afford, especially one with an already shoestring budget. 

Lorraine was originally to be paid for her services. However, she was also coincidentally looking for a student to pass her skills down to, and she had decided to teach Alize for free. She remained relatively tight-lipped about her intentions, but I gleaned as much from my prior conversations with her the previous day. 

Alize insisted on paying Lorraine a fair amount, and was allowed to do so. I was loaning her the appropriate sum of coin, after all. 

“Perhaps I overstepped my boundaries, good sister, but I had already assessed Alize’s abilities when we were sitting in the reception room. I would need more precise instruments to get an exact reading, yes, but from what I can see, Alize could easily work toward becoming a Court Mage if she tried,” Lorraine said, once again delivering shocking statements with a nonchalant expression. 

Alize having talent was one thing, but having enough to one day become a Court Mage was something else. Court Mages were mages in service of the Royal Court, the pinnacle of magecraft practitioners in the kingdom of Yaaran. They answered directly to the king himself, and they were all mages of tremendous magical strength. The mages of the king’s court, in turn, all possessed great reserves of mana, and the knowledge to weave it into proper spells. One had to have extensive knowledge of magical theory to achieve such a feat. Naturally, most mages looked up to them, hoping to one day be one among their number. 

But of course, few ever managed to take on the title. 

“Is that really true, Miss Lorraine? Even if she does have talent...” 

Sister Lillian was adequately shocked, with one hand over her gaping mouth as she stared at Lorraine in disbelief. But Lorraine merely shook her head slowly. 

“I understand your surprise, good sister. Even I was surprised as such, yes. However, I am not joking in the slightest. With the proper education and training, Alize is sure to become an extraordinary mage. Even so, she could very easily end up as a commoner without anything to her name if she were lazy. It is all up to the child’s desires...and perhaps her drive to succeed. That would be about the gist of it, yes.” 

Lorraine had a point, as some individuals ended their lives as run-of-the-mill mages even if they were blessed with great reserves of mana. 

While mana capacity was important, one couldn’t hope to become a first-rate mage with that alone. Magical knowledge was also important; an understanding of the foundation and theories of magic went hand-in-hand with mana capacity. Only by having both could an individual embark upon the path of magical greatness. 

For example, I knew little in the way of magical theory and magecraft. No matter the amount of mana I had, I didn’t have a reliable way to use it. But now that I had a higher mana capacity, I could start studying basic magical theories. However, my mind was fixated upon Existential Evolution, and, if possible, I would like to evolve again as soon as I could. These thoughts, in turn, forced notions of studying magecraft out of my head. 

Since I was a swordsman in life to begin with, all I knew were simple spells to strengthen my body or equipment. They were simple but effective, and I had memorized those spells long ago. I suppose I would go as far as I could with my current arsenal, and if I ever came to some sort of roadblock, I could change directions then. 

My recent trek into the Swamp of Tarasque turned out quite all right, but I felt certain magical spells could have made my journey much smoother. For instance, some long-range attack magic would have made short work of those Goblins, and a well-placed thunderbolt or freezing spell would have gotten rid of that entire swarm of fish-beasts. When the bridge collapsed, I could have strengthened it with earth magics right then and there, and it maybe wouldn’t have broken down in such a spectacular fashion. At the very least, I could imagine Lorraine doing all these things and more, for she would have approached the problem from a much more strategic angle. 

“I see... But then, what about Alize? What has she said about becoming a mage?” Sister Lillian asked, worry evident on her features. 

It was common knowledge the path of a mage was a difficult one; the challenges began early, and they never really ended. Even basic magecraft training was particularly taxing. One had to give it their all—a halfhearted attempt wasn’t sufficient when it came to learning magecraft. One had to memorize and fully understand magical theories before eventually putting them into practice. Even then, the prospective mage had to be mentally prepared for the inevitable lash of feedback should any of their spells fail or go awry. 

In addition, most people associated mages with battles and combat, or at least, professions that involved such occurrences. Other career paths existed, where one could end up becoming a magical tool researcher and craftsperson, or serve the king or leader of some kingdom or other. Some would become adventurers, spending their days slaying monsters and other beasts across the lands. Combat situations were the perfect opportunity for a mage to utilize their magical skills, and they were paid handsomely for their services. 

Even so, many individuals with the mana capacity necessary to become a mage often did not wish to do so, if only because they valued their lives more than a lucrative career. 

The good sister was probably wondering if Alize understood all this. Maybe I should have told her of what the child said from the very beginning... 

“About that... Alize had actually discussed her dream of becoming an adventurer with me during my previous visit.” 

“Eh...?” 

“I recall mentioning she had defeated a Puchi Suri just now, Sister Lillian. That was a test, to see if she had the mettle to become an adventurer... I felt she should experience it with her own hands. If she had reacted to that situation with fear, she never would have made a good adventurer. But Alize defeated the monster fairly. I feel like she understands the risks involved.” 

But I was just a third party, so I could never know how Alize felt in that situation, so I couldn’t simply declare that my conclusions were absolutely correct. However, Sister Lillian had known nothing of this prior to our conversation, and I felt I should tell her what I knew about Alize’s hopes and dreams. All for reference, of course. 

Perhaps I should have sought Alize’s permission before speaking of her dreams, but it was still true she had such aspirations. I assumed I wasn’t stepping out of line. 

Sister Lillian hardly seemed to be the type of person to trample on another’s dreams, either. Even if Alize didn’t have concrete aspirations, she was at the age where most children still had hopes and dreams. For better or worse, few followed through on their childhood dreams, but even I had decided on becoming a Mithril-class adventurer from a young age. 

Sister Lillian seemed lost in thought, contemplating my words. After a brief silence, she slowly nodded. 

“If that is the case... If Alize truly wishes for it, then I would not stop her. However...why an adventurer, of all things?” 

At that precise moment, a few raps echoed from outside the door. Alize had picked a good time to return. 

Alize’s voice rang out from behind the rickety wooden door. “Lady Lillian, I’ve brought Mister Unbert, the healer, and Mister Norman, the herbalist. They wish to see you. May we enter?” 

“But...” Sister Lillian turned to Lorraine. 

Lorraine and I shook our heads in unison. 

“I don’t mind, sister. I’ve met them before.” 

“I do not mind, either. If we are in the way, good sister, we will take our leave,” Lorraine added. 

Lorraine and I were both relatively thick individuals, but we were both capable of reading the atmosphere when it really counted. We had simply decided not to do so in our daily lives, for one reason or another. 

I suppose that was the simplest way of putting it... 

“Is that right...? We will partake in your hospitality, then. They are probably here to discuss the issue of my illness, one that has been plaguing me for quite some time...” 

Unbert was the healer responsible for checking up on the sister, and Norman was apparently his associate. It was easy to understand why they had come. 

“Well, then. You may enter.” 

Alize escorted the men into the room in response. It was a familiar sight—a thinly-built, middle-aged man, and a slightly rotund youth. While they seemed a little surprised to see Lorraine and me by the sister’s bedside, they soon recognized me, and they greeted us both with polite smiles. 

In total, there were five people in the room, excluding Sister Lillian. Quite a gathering for a small, cramped room. Lorraine and I motioned to give up our seats since there were only three in the room. Alize quickly noticed this, once again bolting out of the room in a panic. 

“I-I will bring some more chairs!” she said, disappearing through the doorway once more. 

Surprised by Alize’s sudden disappearance, I stopped, frozen in a comical half-squat. Norman and Unbert motioned for us to sit, and, at their insistence, we did as we were told. 

It was an awkward atmosphere, and Sister Lillian was the first to break the silence. 

“Sigh... She has always been a jittery child... I do apologize on her behalf, ladies and gentlemen. Perhaps my efforts at instilling manners into her have been lacking...” 

Sister Lillian seemed a little exasperated, but she was smiling in resignation, and she didn’t look angry or upset in the slightest. 

But Alize was merely a child of 12 years. The fact she was able to do this much was worthy of some respect. In fact, compared to how I was when I was that age... No. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to be unhappy with Alize. Lorraine, too, seemed to be having similar recollections, if her expressions were anything to go by. Even Unbert and Norman seemed to be having similar thoughts. 

Unless Alize had been brought up unnecessarily strictly, it was almost impossible for a 12-year-old girl at an orphanage to have perfect manners. The fact that she’d noticed a lack of chairs and had rushed off to get more was in fact a good indicator of character. 

“No, we do not mind at all. She is much more well-behaved than we were as children, after all,” Unbert the healer said, with a gentle tone. 

Unbert seemed to possess a gentle disposition, but the stubble on his face and his general demeanor made him look more like an adventurer. Given how he had set up a dispensary in Maalt, and had offered healing to its citizens, it wouldn’t be strange if he was an adventurer at some point in his life. 

“I am very glad you feel that way, Unbert. But what about the others...” Sister Lillian said, looking away from him and toward the other three adults in the room. 

From what I could see, we all had a similarly vague smile. I suppose we all had our childhood memories. 

“Well... I suppose everybody was a child, once. Even I had such a time... Well, then. Unbert, Norman, you wanted to speak with me? I do apologize for conversing with all of you at once like this. I had already sought the permission of Mister Rentt and Miss Lorraine here, you see. Is this perhaps about my body—my condition?” 

Sister Lillian proceeded to explain the situation to Unbert and Norman, who nodded after listening attentively. 

“Ah, I see. I do not really mind if they are here, but there is just a possibility of the discussion going on for some time. Would it suit you two better if you wrapped up your conversation first...?” Unbert said, looking in our general direction. 

If this kept up, the adults in the room would be caught up in an endless loop of social courtesies. Lorraine quickly put an end to that. 

“No, our discussion would take some time, too. If what you have to say to Sister Lillian pertains to her health, then it concerns us, as well. Perhaps we should all sit down and speak of the matter at hand, no?” 

In truth, Alize had only wanted to become an adventurer to find a cure for Sister Lillian’s illness. Having Unbert and Norman speak about her illness openly would allow us to explain Alize’s aspirations later on in the conversation. 

There was also the matter of medicine, involving the mixture Unbert and Norman had concocted for the good sister. All Sister Lillian had to do was drink it and begin the healing process, so explaining Alize’s intentions from that point forward would undoubtedly be easier. 

The sister herself seemed confused at Lorraine’s words, but Unbert and Norman seemed to have inferred our circumstances. 

“If you are fine with their presence, Lady Lillian, then there are no issues. They would hear of the reasons for your recent illness, however. Is that all right, Lady Lillian?” 

She nodded slowly. Sister Lillian didn’t seem to have any issues with the proposition. 

“I do not really understand the situation...but if there is a need for them to be present, then I do not mind. Please, let us begin the discussion.” 

“Then...by your leave, Lady Lillian. About the illness that has afflicted you...I hope it does not alarm you, but you are suffering from what is called ‘Accumulative Miasma Disease,’” Unbert said, straight to the point. 

Maybe he wasn’t the type to mill about, or perhaps he felt doing so would cause the good sister an even bigger shock... Whatever the case, Unbert delivered his diagnosis plainly. 

I knew of this disease before Alize had even said anything of it to me, so I could only assume it was a common term among those who were capable of utilizing divinity. 

All the color drained from Sister Lillian’s face as soon as the words left Unbert’s lips. I suppose such was the severity of the illness... 

The afflicted wouldn’t die from the disease immediately, but the prospect of dying in the next five to ten years would terrify anyone, I suppose. Unbert had probably predicted her reaction, hence his initial warning. 

Perhaps he should have told her there was a cure... On the other hand, even if the cure was known, the ingredient involved—the very same Dragon Blood Blossom I had trekked into the swamp for a while ago—was incredibly expensive. Sister Lillian, of all people, would know of the difficulties in procuring such an item, along with the costs involved. 

“But then...how long do I have...to obtain something as costly as a Dragon Blood Blossom... What will become of this orphanage...?” Sister Lillian said, haltingly. 

However, her assessment was correct, and, after a while, the good sister stopped, seemingly more composed. Slowly, she shook her head. 

“I do apologize. My thoughts got the better of me. So, then, how long do I have? I will contact the headquarters of the Church of the Eastern Sky... It would take some time to find a successor, someone who could run the orphanage well. Should I begin the preparations...?” 

Her face was still pale, but the good sister put on a strong face, and spoke with a steady voice. Her determination was formidable. 

However, there was no cause for worry, and Unbert shook his head as he continued. 

“As I said, Lady Lillian. Please do not be alarmed. I was not quite done yet. You see, your illness will be healed. There is nothing for you to worry about.” 

Sister Lillian’s eyes opened wide. 

“Cured...? This...Accumulative Miasma Disease that is plaguing me?” 

It was an almost hoarse voice of disbelief, perhaps, echoing from deep within the sister’s throat. From her reaction, it was plain to see Sister Lillian knew of the specifics of the disease, and how it wasn’t something one easily recovered from. 

Unbert repeated himself in response to the sister’s reaction, as if to reinforce his point. He spoke once more, slowly and purposefully. 

“Yes. Judging from how you responded just now, Lady Lillian, you must know the only cure to the disease is medicine made from a Dragon Blood Blossom. However...we already had some specimens on hand. And we have already finished synthesizing the medicine in question... All you must do now, Lady Lillian, is drink a certain amount of it at regular intervals.” 

It seemed regular treatment was needed, as one was presumably not healed from a single gulp. I suppose that was acceptable, since one only needed to drink the medicine for a complete cure. 

Sister Lillian seemed to understand as much, but her expression remained somewhat pained. 

“No, well... But... I do not have the coin to purchase such a medication...” 

She shook her head in apparent resignation. Unbert stopped her. 

“We do not require any payment. Isn’t that so, Norman?” Unbert said, turning to his rotund friend. 

“Exactly.” Norman the herbalist nodded deeply. “After all, we did not have to spend any coin to procure the most expensive ingredient in this mixture... Not to mention the other ingredients were somewhat cheap. In any case, we have been more than adequately compensated for our efforts...” 

Norman referred to the additional Dragon Blood Blossoms I had given to him, I suppose. He would surely be able to sell those medicines elsewhere, to individuals other than the good sister. He mentioned he made medicines for the poor, but I had given him more than enough ingredients for some profit on the side. After all, it would be difficult to continue doing what he did if he had no profits whatsoever. I assume Norman understood the nature of his business well enough. If Norman wasn’t the man I thought him to be, and instead engaged in shady businesses, I would demand my flowers back from him; even so, he didn’t seem like the sort. For what it was worth, I trusted him. 

I understood his frugality from the clothes he wore and how he carried himself. It was difficult imagining Norman had an immoral medicine smuggling racket under the proverbial counter. One could argue he was putting on a front and changed into more battered clothing, but the doubts would never end if I entertained those thoughts. 

“You did not spend any coin...? But, did you not just say that a Dragon Blood Blossom was required to cure this disease? I know how much that ingredient would cost, Norman. Even if you two did obtain it somehow... I know Unbert used to be an adventurer...but not one who was skilled enough to tackle the Swamp of Tarasque. I apologize for my bluntness, Unbert...” 

The good sister eyed the two men suspiciously. 

It was as I thought—Unbert was one of my colleagues, albeit a long time ago. He seemed like he had quite some skill; a lower Silver-class adventurer, perhaps? Owing to the fact that he was a healer...upper-Silver-class, maybe. But even then, Unbert would be ill-equipped to tackle the swamp on his own. 

Unbert didn’t seem offended by the sister’s words, and he instead nodded calmly. 

“Of course. It would have been impossible for me. It just so happened we were...lucky, perhaps. We crossed paths with a kind-hearted adventurer who had just returned from the swamp, and he allowed us to have some Dragon Blood Blossoms...and at a very good price,” Unbert said, looking in my direction. 

The shock on Sister Lillian’s face was evident. As if remembering my initial reason for coming to the orphanage, Sister Lillian turned to me. 

“You did that...for me, Mister Rentt? But...were you not contracted to clear the basement storage facility of monsters...?” 

That was indeed what I had told Sister Lillian, but only because Alize wanted me to explain the situation as such. Now I understood Alize’s reasoning for doing so, as she didn’t trust me entirely back then, and she had doubts on if I would truly bring back a blossom for her in the first place. Alize wasn’t mistaken in her judgment since it wasn’t an ingredient that could be so easily procured. Even I had run into some issues along the way. 

I offered an explanation of my own. 

“Simply a means to an end, Sister Lillian. For starters, I didn’t know if I could make it through the Swamp of Tarasque intact. We felt it was best not to get your hopes up before I had successfully returned, then had the medicine synthesized. Alize didn’t wish to worry you.” 

More of Alize’s reasoning than mine, if anything. I felt it wasn’t necessary to speak of what happened before I had accepted the request. Issuing a request at the guild was all fine and good, but there was a chance no one would have offered their assistance, and the ever-present possibility of failure even if an adventurer had answered the call. Alize had decided it would be relatively pointless to get the good sister’s hopes up before a concrete solution was found, and that very solution was me. I accepted her request, and saw it through to the end. 

That was that—nothing more, nothing less. Alize had simply taken the best choice in an unfavorable situation, then set about solving the problem as best as she could. 

Thinking back on it, I felt like I should take a moment to admire Alize’s determination and spirit. Though, I suppose Alize didn’t truly understand the logistics of such an operation, since the Swamp of Tarasque was a place where even grown adventurers preferred not to step. 

Even if Alize’s aspirations were somewhat reckless, the fact that she had made up her mind to do such a thing was admirable in and of itself. Alize must have really looked up to Sister Lillian, in one way or another. 

“I... I see. But then...why would you go all that way to pick Dragon Blood Blossoms, Mister Rentt...?” 

“It was a request, of course.” 

It was exactly that. I suppose now was as good a time as any to explain the entire situation. 

“But...from whom?” 

“I suppose you already have your suspicions, good sister. The client was...‘The Orphans of the Second Orphanage of Maalt,’ clearly written on the form.” 

“The children...?” 

While she seemed shocked, Lillian herself quickly came to terms with this development. It was plain for anyone to understand who had put the request in, even if I had said nothing. 

“Especially Alize...” I continued my explanation. “We were discussing the difficulties of picking such a flower, yes? If no one answered the call, Alize had intended to become an adventurer herself, and would one day venture into the swamp... That’s how much she respects you, Sister Lillian.” 

“Alize would do that...for me? I... I see...hence the talk of becoming an adventurer...” Sister Lillian said slowly began connecting the dots. 

She nodded, slowly and repeatedly. Unbert took this opportunity to interject. 

“Perhaps we can leave that discussion for a later time. In any case, Lady Lillian, you will be cured. Norman has the medicine with him. Please accept it.” 

Unbert stepped back, allowing Norman to approach the sister’s bedside. Retrieving a small wooden box from his bag, the herbalist handed the medication to Sister Lillian. With trembling hands, she accepted the gift, opening the box’s lid slowly. Inside were a sizable amount of large pills, about the size of one’s fingertip. 

“Take one each day, for about a month. These pills will expel the miasma built up in your body and, with that, you will be rid of the Accumulative Miasma Disease that has plagued you so. The healing process varies by person, however. Should you be in need of any more, we have spares in storage. Do not worry, we will provide whatever you need free of charge should it come to that. You should be able to feel yourself recovering with each application. Do remember to take a single pill with water every day.” 

Picking up a pill, Sister Lillian held it before her eyes, her hand shaking slightly as she did so. 

“I... I really will be cured? I don’t...know what to say. Thank you, everyone... I will never forget this gift, for as long as I live...” 

The good sister bowed her head. Large droplets of tears fell down onto her white bedsheets. At the same time, a familiar knocking sound rang out from the direction of the door. 

“I have brought the chair—huh...?” 

Alize, who had swung open the door with chairs in tow, nearly dropped them as she gaped at what she saw. 

“Wha...? What happened? What’s going on?!” Alize exclaimed, upon seeing Sister Lillian in tears. 

Alize rushed into the room in a panic before realizing something tremendous had happened in the room during her absence. The chairs, of course, were left sitting in the hallway; I suppose such was to be expected for this situation. 

Sister Lillian, suppressing her sobs, responded to Alize slowly. “Alize... Oh! I should be saying that to you! What have you been doing, keeping this all a secret from me...?” 

At those words, Alize spun around, looking at all of us before quickly turning back to Sister Lillian. It seemed like she had been adequately brought up to speed. 

Alize responded somewhat apologetically. 

“Ah... I’ve been found out, huh... I apologize. Um. But...we... We really wanted you to get better, Lady Lillian...” 

And so it came to be that Alize told Sister Lillian of everything, not leaving out a single detail. While I assumed Sister Lillian would be upset at Alize’s actions, she had instead smiled gently, not a hint of anger in her voice. 

“I understand. I have no intention of blaming or reprimanding you, Alize... No. Instead, I feel very blessed... Under normal circumstances, the Accumulative Miasma Disease would remain untreatable—such is the difficulty of procuring a Dragon Blood Blossom. Among the faithful and those blessed with divinity, it is a most fearsome disease... Even so...” 

“It’s a miracle of the Great Angels... It has to be. A... A miracle, in recognition of all the work you have done for us, for the orphanage, Lady Lillian... A m-miracle...” 

Alize lowered her head. The good sister’s emotional words had probably moved her close to tears. 

Sister Lillian continued smiling, shaking her head slowly. 

“I have only done what should be done. Perhaps this is indeed the guidance of the Great Angels, but, more than anything, it was you, Alize. You worked hard with your earnest wish to help me. Mister Rentt braved the swamp and found the blossoms...while Unbert and Norman synthesized the medicine. I am deeply grateful...for all your help. Truly. Thank you, everyone...” 

Something seemed to well up from deep within her heart, as tears soon flowed from the good sister’s eyes once more. 

“Rentt! Rentt! Can I go next? Can I go next?!” 

“Oi! I’m up next!” 

“Eh?! But I was first in line!” 

A small crowd stood around me in the orphanage’s small chapel, their eyes trained upon a familiar-looking little airship, zipping this way and that in the air. The crowd was none other than Lorraine, myself, and all the orphans of the Second Orphanage of Maalt. 

The airship flew somewhat precariously and appeared unstable at times, but it remained firmly airborne. As if obeying the will of the individual controlling it, it stayed clear of the ceiling and walls. The one holding the remote was one of the orphans in the crowd, a boy of about five years of age, I suppose. I had begun playing around with the airship idly a few moments ago; the child stared on enviously, so I thought it fair to let him have a go. The boy had no mana of his own, but I had recharged the airship’s crystal adequately so one only had to hold the remote for it to take to the skies. 

Perhaps one would question how I ended up in such a situation. The explanation was simple: Unbert and Norman had returned after giving the good sister instructions on how the medicine should be taken. Sister Lillian, however, had wanted to speak to Alize in private. Lorraine and I had been asked to wait outside. 

The conversation was undoubtedly about our plan to turn Alize into an adventurer-magus-scholar of some sort. It was quite a commitment, so I didn’t expect an immediate answer; a few days, or maybe even a little longer, perhaps. 

Strangely enough, we were told the conversation wouldn’t take very long at all. Curious, I asked for a reason, and was given one as such. Although we looked a little strange to Sister Lillian, she didn’t think of us as ill-intentioned individuals, and she felt we could be trusted. She simply wished to ask Alize about Alize’s determination and dreams for the future. 

But... 

A little strange? 

I felt like I should have said something about our perceived strangeness, but ultimately decided against it. Lorraine, sensing my discontent, quickly dragged me out of the room, announcing we would be waiting in the orphanage’s chapel. 

Perhaps I should have been more resolute. Strange? Us? Why? In what sense...? 

But I suppose that was all said and done now. The two really did need to talk. 

“Well, Rentt. Is that really all right? Does that not mean a lot to you?” Lorraine said, staring up at the little airship zipping about above our heads. 

Lorraine was right—the airship meant a lot to me, but I felt I shouldn’t prohibit everyone else from touching it. The joy of controlling such a wonderful magical tool should be shared among as many people as possible... At least, that was what I thought. 

For that to happen, participants were required, but I was more concerned about the possibility of theft. Luckily, there was no need for such concern in this particular situation, and I found myself enjoying the atmosphere in the room more than I should have. 

“It’s fine. They all seem to be enjoying themselves,” I said, casting my gaze toward the children who were passing the remote among themselves. 

“I suppose.” Lorraine nodded, shifting her gaze as well. “But, Rentt...what do you think of it? Would she approve?” 

A change in subject, no doubt, with the subject in question being none other than the matter of Alize becoming an adventurer. 

“It should be fine, I think. Let’s consider the fact that the career options of an orphan are somewhat limited. If they were hardworking and smart enough, they’d end up as monks or sisters in a shrine somewhere. Most of the children here, however, would have to find a job on their own accord. Alize is still young, but she would come of age in two, maybe three years, then she’d be in the same boat, too. We are merely accelerating the process.” 

Lorraine had a somewhat pained look on her face, which was to be expected, given the cruel reality that awaited most of the orphans before us. 

“Yes, yes. I suppose you are right.” Lorraine quickly shook her head. Her voice sounded a little softer than usual. 

At that moment, a familiar sound echoed out from behind us; the chapel’s doors were opening. 

“It would seem like they are here, Rentt.” 

Standing in the doorway were Sister Lillian and Alize. I found it strange for the sister to be up and about so quickly, but as she approached, I could make out a smile on her face. 

“It has only been a short while since my first dose of medication, but already my body feels lighter. Some of my divinity has returned, as well. With this, I would surely be able to return to my duties.” 

It was a good thing indeed. Sister Lillian already seemed much better. Alize, however, whispered to her in a small, yet urgent voice. 

“Lady Lillian! You’re not well yet! You should be resting your body. I will handle the day-to-day affairs of the orphanage for a while longer...” 

Looking at the pair, I couldn’t quite make out who was the orphanage’s administrator. Lillian turned to Alize, that same gentle smile still on her face. 

“Haha... Well, then, Alize. I suppose I will do just that for a little longer. Even so, my child...were you not going with these kind people here to learn the ways of adventuring, magecraft, and scholarly pursuit? From now on, you should no longer be trying to do everything yourself. Learn to rely more on others, Alize.” 

At those words, Lorraine and I felt a sense of relief. It seemed the good sister had given us her blessing in the end. 

Alize promptly turned to face us. 

“Well...that’s how it is, Mister Rentt, Miss Lorraine. I will be in your care from now on. I... I’ll work hard!” Alize said, bowing her head deeply. 

“Yes, we will be working together from now, you and I. Let us blaze a glorious path toward the betterment of magecraft and knowledge,” Lorraine said, somewhat theatrically. 

I continued close after her. 

“I’m glad to work with you, too... You do want to become an adventurer, right? Right...?” 

For some reason, I felt like I had to have a proper confirmation from Alize to set my mind at ease.

“Well, then, my students. A most basic question, one of the foundations of magecraft... Do you know what is required to weave spells?” Lorraine asked, holding up a wooden pointer of sorts and occasionally rapping it against a large, flat board mounted behind her. 

We were, of course, now in Lorraine’s living room. And by students, Lorraine referred to none other than myself, Rentt Faina, and Alize, who was seated next to me. 

Alize had formally decided to pursue the path of a mage—or adventurer—just the day before, and this was the very first lesson we had to take, on the very first day of our new curriculum. 

Perhaps one would wonder why I, Rentt Faina, would be seated next to Alize. The reason was because Lorraine was currently educating us on the basics of magecraft. Alize had a deep reserve of mana, and as such should rightfully be trained in the ways of magecraft. But Alize wasn’t the only one with said talents, for I was the same. 

Of course, this was a relatively recent development. Before, all I could do was cast some low-level attack spells, or maybe cause a trickle of water to come forth from my palms. No one would have claimed I had magical talent of any sort in the past, but my circumstances were now slightly different... After all, my mana capacity and aptitude for magic had greatly increased since my most recent Existential Evolution—somewhat unbelievably, even.