Episode 781

“Sigh. Whatever. Let’s just set up camp.”

Without noticing Raphadael’s internal horror, Gainando said with a gloomy expression.

With his minion forcibly unsummoned, everything looked gray.

“Wh-what, you’re suddenly trying to act the dignified one all by yourself…! Coward!”

“What are you talking about? I said let’s make camp. You want to see Lee Han get mad?”

Gainando looked incredulous at Raphadael’s odd retorts.

He was already upset with his minion unsummoned; what nonsense was this?

“Tch, tch, tch. Don’t think it’s over.”

‘Did he inhale some hallucinogenic powder in the forest zone?’

Gainando wondered if Raphadael had accidentally inhaled something while passing through.

Why was he talking such nonsense…

“Summon your minion and dig over here.”

By second year at Einrogard, you had the skills to camp anywhere, no matter your noble or slave origins.

Gainando surveyed the terrain and pointed out where to dig, since a small moat by camp was always handy.

“Your minion would be easier. It’s bigger…”

“What minion?”

Gainando played innocent. Raphadael was not fooled.

Gainando had boasted about his contract 131 times a day; it was impossible to forget.

“Big one, with the spiked armor. Perfect for this kind of job.”

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s right! The Thorn Revenant, wasn’t it?”

“…It got unsummoned! Happy now?!”

Gainando, frustrated, threw a bone.

Instead of getting mad at being hit in the face, Raphadael looked shocked.

For a black mage, having an undead minion truly destroyed was significant.

It took a long time to recover, and even when it did, the contract might not be stable.

Undead minions were petty and wild—rarely understanding of a mage’s circumstances.

“Was it… really that bad? Sorry.”

“…Forget it. Just help with the digging.”

“I-I can’t either.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Gainando was puzzled by Raphadael’s hesitance.

Black magicians always had minions…

“Did yours get unsummoned too?”

“No… not that.”

“Then what?”

“…I, um, wanted to let it rest today. It looked tired.”

“…”

Gainando couldn’t believe his ears.

Letting an undead minion rest because it “looked tired”?

What…?

“What are you talking about? Is that in your contract?”

“No… Not in the contract.”

“Then just order it.”

“B-but… it just seemed pitiful…”

‘…How much does he love his undead minion??’

Gainando was appalled.

He’d never met a black magician so gentle with their minion!

“You said black magic is just a tool! You said even the contract was to study enemies!”

“I meant it!”

“Then use it! Don’t let it rest!”

“This is… Um, right! It’s all to lull it into a false sense of security—I’m being nice to deceive it!”

“…Lie. Like I’m going to believe that!”

For ten minutes they argued “Admit you like undead”—”No, I don’t” before finally acknowledging their stalemate.

“Huff, huff… Fine. Let’s neither of us use minions…”

“Good, glad you understand. …But then how do we dig?”

“Are you good at earth magic?”

“No… you?”

“Not really…”

They stared at each other.

There was only one way left.

• * *

“??”

“What are you two doing with shovels like that?”

Friends working elsewhere looked over, puzzled.

Why were magicians using shovels?

“It’s a secret of black magic.”

“O…kay?”

Their friends figured black magic used minions, but with more work to do and little knowledge, they let it go.

“…Why are you two using shovels?”

But Lee Han wasn’t so easily fooled. He gave Raphadael a puzzled look.

It made sense for Gainando—no minion—but why Raphadael?

“…My minion was unsummoned…”

“Lee Han! This guy says he’s letting his minion ‘rest’ because it looked tired!”

“Hey!”

Raphadael was startled, but Lee Han had already heard.

Lee Han gazed at Raphadael in shock.

“I see. I understand, Raphadael. Well, it’s good to look after your minion.”

-Wow! What a kind black magician!

“No, I’m not!”

Raphadael wished they’d just made fun of him. Being praised so warmly made him even more mortified.

The heir to House Gral, mistaken for an undead lover!

“I only want to use it for tricks! Trust me!”

“Yeah… sure…”

Lee Han ignored Raphadael’s wail and went back to checking the camp.

‘The quality just keeps going up each time.’

Unlike upper years who stuck to their own towers, the current Einrogard second years had lots of (forced) practice working together in crises.

So their campsites were getting better and better.

Where they once just made a pit, scattered powder for snake and insect repellent, and huddled behind a big rock by the fire…

Now there was a carefully dug moat with potion-laced water, tight walls with guard spells, a tall watchtower sending signals for late arrivals…

“Aren’t the camp walls a little plain?”

“Should we color them with magic?”

Now some students wanted to paint and decorate the fortifications, or even set up commemorative markers by the entrance.

‘…Do they really have to paint the skull principal?’

Lee Han watched as friends painted murals of defeating an evil skull around the camp walls, shaking his head.

It was a waste of stamina and magic, but he couldn’t stop them if they were having fun.

“Wardanaz, over here! Over here!”

Friends who’d finished their own assignments called Lee Han over for tea. A pot was bubbling over the small fire.

“We were talking about tents. If we had just one tent with a space expansion spell, how comfy would we be?”

Though their camp was better than before, they kept raising the bar.

If they had a tent with expanded space inside, they wouldn’t have to build all this—they’d just fortify a little and live inside.

Lee Han was a little impressed.

‘I didn’t even think about it. They’re so proactive.’

“True. But space magic artifacts are tough to make. Do you have a plan?”

Building big artifacts was hard; adding spatial magic was even harder. Even for Einrogard students, it was a rare item.

“Heh. We do, Wardanaz!”

“Oh? Are you working with seniors?”

Lee Han felt some pride in all his cross-discipline classes.

He wanted to join, and thought he’d be useful too.

‘I really want a space-expansion tent…’

“If we do this project, I’d use the Sanggakwan workshop. It’s got good facilities. Of those, Professor Verdus’ workroom was best, but you have to sneak in while he’s not around. What departments are your seniors in?”

Lee Han’s passionate proposal was met with awkward faces.

“Actually, we were talking about stealing from a senior…”

“……”

Building one was impossible, but swiping it seemed more realistic.

“R-right. Of course.”

“We were going to ask you to lead the operation…”

The group lapsed into silent tea.

Trying to lighten the mood, Ahsan spoke up:

“Actually, I heard something about a space-expansion artifact.”

“Oh, really?!”

“What is it, Dalkard?”

“It’s an ancient artifact. The tent’s only sleeping-bag size, but inside it’s big—about half this camp…”

“!!”

“Where’d you read that?! Where is it?!”

They all clamored to raid the dungeon where that artifact lay.

“…A, actually, my senior has it.”

“……”

“…”

Another silence. Lee Han finished his tea and said,

“Well… there’s no law against stealing from a senior.”

“Wardanaz!!”

“Right!? I figured I could count on you!”

‘Shouldn’t these guys be in the Porting Club?’

Lee Han pondered.

• * *

While waiting at camp, summoning students trickled in.

Once all had gathered, Ahsan cleared his throat and pulled out a map.

“Alright, look. While we waited, I measured the height and width here…”

Scratch, scratch—

“……”

“……”

At the newly drawn map and the huge empty space still left to fill, the students sighed deeply.

Realistically, it looked like they’d be surveying this dimension for the whole semester.

“First, let’s hike up to the central peak. Pull yourselves together.”

“I’m disappointed, Professor Millei. How does he expect us to do this in one semester?”

“Maybe all professors are like that; we just never noticed before.”

‘How true.’

Lee Han felt a deep resonance with that comment.

Professors were all evil by nature. If some seemed nice, that was just the students’ mistake…

“Huff, huff. Wardanaz.”

Heading for the central peak, Lee Han naturally took the lead.

In expeditions, the best magicians belonged in front and at the rear for emergencies.

While at point, Ahsan called out to Lee Han, a little out of breath.

“Something up?”

“No, not really. It’s just…”

Ahsan hesitated, a bit embarrassed.

“The Wardanaz family is famous in the Empire for dimensional research, right?”

“I guess so?”

“I heard a story that the Wardanaz family leaves marks when exploring dimensions…”

Leaving marks with local info for future magicians was common practice for explorers.

Ahsan, from a family of treasurers, had heard as much.

“That’s right. I think so.”

“…Is there any chance we’d find such a mark here?”

“…Ahsan…”

“I know! I know it’s silly!”

Ahsan’s face reddened.

The odds of finding a Wardanaz mark in a random dimension were lower than finding a needle in a haystack.

“Honestly, finding one of those is impossible. You’d sooner run into another family member.”

“There are more marks left behind, statistically…”

Ahsan muttered, unable to let go of hope.

That was how daunting the map felt.

“Give it up, Ahsan. I used to calculate the relative likelihood of a meteor hitting Einrogard, but it never mattered… Oh, Brother?”

Far ahead, at the summit, aided by spirits, stood his second brother, Arsil Wardanaz, writing in a book.