The graduation ceremony concluded without incident.
A golden medal, awarded to the student who submitted the best thesis, dangled from Wingester's neck beneath his academic cap.


No sooner had the ceremony ended than representatives from several prominent guilds within the kingdom began gathering around Wingester.


Since the graduates' theses were bound together and published annually throughout the entire kingdom, Wingester's name was already known to them.


“Are you by any chance that Wingester fellow? I'm from the sales department of the Primag Trading Company...”
“Hey, no cutting in line! We from the Akra Trading Company were waiting for Wingester first!”
“Hey, everyone, keep order! He's a student, isn't he?! Do you intend to make a spectacle of yourselves in front of the young man!”


At Koch's sudden outburst, they belatedly shuffled back into line, looking sheepish.


Wingester, though reluctant, had no choice but to proceed with the formalities: exchanging greetings with the merchants and receiving their business cards one by one.


Their interest, needless to say, was in the lightweight mana concentrator Wingester had submitted in his thesis.


“Young Wingester. We'd pay any royalty you ask. Please, bring your exceptional technology to our Akra Trading Company...”


As this same script repeated with different people, Wingester felt a slight surge of irritation.
But he couldn't just walk out in front of Professor Koch watching nearby, so he had to endure it.


Only after greeting dozens of guild employees and filling his bag with business cards could he finally be released.


“Haah...”
“Ha ha ha! That's great, Wingester!”
“It's not great at all...”
“Isn't it a joy that the people of the kingdom value your skills so highly?”


Seeing Koch pat Wingester's shoulder encouragingly, the rising irritation subsided somewhat.


“So, what are your plans for that technique going forward?”
“......”


He didn't want to give it away to anyone, if possible.
It was a technique Wingester had painstakingly researched for years within the academy.
Its very first beneficiaries should be its developer, Wingester, and his family.


"Well, Wingester, I trust you'll handle it wisely. ”
“…Yes.”
“But those merchants who just came to greet you aren’t fools either. They’ll desperately cling to you, begging for the technology.”
“…….”
“Well, if you run into trouble, give me a call.”


With that, Koch walked back to his carriage.
Wingester watched him go, lost in thought about what lay ahead,


when suddenly.


“Senior-! Congratulations on graduating!”


Berett, who had appeared beside him, grabbed his arm and bounced up and down excitedly.


“Ah. Berett.”
“I'll be following you next year, after all.”
“Right. Work hard.”
“Oh! By the way, if things keep going like this, the Magitech Club will disband. What should we do?”


That was true.
The club, which had operated with minimal members from the start, would lose Wingester, Romulus, and Haixian, who were graduating this year.
If things continued like this, the club wouldn't be able to survive due to lack of members.


“...Berett.”
“?”
“There are probably still quite a few students with low mana aptitude hiding away in the academy.”
“......”
“For now, Berett can take the lead.”
“...Is that okay?”


Wingester thought for a moment, then shook his head.


“Zessler's a bit clueless outside his own research, so Berett's the right person for it.”
“Hehe...”


Pleased by the compliment, she beamed and waved goodbye.
She now had to go gather students to keep the club going.


Turning suddenly to look at the entrance to the auditorium where the graduation ceremony had been held, Wingzester saw several soldiers clad in the ceremonial robes of the Royal Guard Mage Corp gathered, talking to Romulus.


They were surely trying to recruit him into their respective units.


“That guy's got it made.”


For the first time, Wingester felt a twinge of envy toward Romulus.


Wingester himself would be hounded by large merchant guilds eager to acquire his skills, no matter which path he chose, leaving him with a headache.
Meanwhile, Romulus only needed to become a member of the prestigious and well-paid Royal Guard Mage Corp.


Wingester quickly shook his head.
Looking at it the other way, it meant Romulus had no other future.
That guy had no other possibilities from the start.


He could only think about that, only choose that.


“...So I'm the one with far more freedom, then.”


From afar, Romulus watched Wingester make his way home.


A man whose talent made him utterly unbeatable.
A guy who, despite clearly being superior in every way, gave no impression of ever being defeated.


But that too would be overturned tomorrow.


“Look forward to it, Wingester…!”


Romulus, his academic gown draped over his back, was fiddling with something wrapped in cloth behind him, something long enough to surpass his own height, his fighting spirit burning brightly.


*


The next day.


The duel site was set at the very place where the two had clashed years ago over the Berett kidnapping incident.
This was at Romulus's request, reflecting his strong intent to avenge himself against Wingester.


“You're here.”


Romulus had arrived first, sitting on a rock waiting.


But his attire was peculiar.


“...What are you thinking?”
“What?”
“You're a mage. So why...”
“...Why am I wearing armor?”


Saying this, Romulus grinned, as if showing off, and spun around once, displaying the armor he wore, complete with a short cape.


“Doesn't it suit me?”
“I'm asking what the hell you were thinking when you put on that outfit.”


Romulus just smiled silently, offering no answer to the question.


“...I'll find out when we clash, is that it?”
“...Yeah.”


He didn't know exactly what it was, but it definitely didn't seem like it would be as easy as before.


Wingester thought he'd done well to bring the new Barrett Staff, thickly wrapped in cloth, strapped to his back. Just as he was about to pull it out,


Thud.


From behind a tree several meters above, someone who shouldn't have been there appeared.


“……!”
“Well, how should I put it… it seems you ignored our opinion.”
“Hello, Wingester.”


Not at all hello.
Cold sweat trickled down Wingester's forehead.
He couldn't pull this out where she was standing.


“Why?”
“...Because I don't want to see the two of you kill each other.”


Wingester gritted his teeth silently.
As if reading his thoughts, she answered immediately.


“Why are you so certain? Romulus isn't the type to kill anyone...”
“...Because I'm worried about you.”
“......!”
“If things continue like this, Wingester, you'll surely do something you'll regret.”


Wingester's eyebrows knitted in displeasure as he scowled.
Even if she was royalty, what part of him had she seen to make such a confident statement?


“I am not that foolish.”
“...Then why is there such anger in your eyes?”
“......”


The princess shook her head quietly.


“Wingester. I forbid you to enter this duel harboring anger. in my name as the Princess.”
“Guh…!”
“Please, at least here….”
“That’s impossible.”


Faced with Wingester's outright refusal, Romulus tried to leap to his feet, but the princess blocked him and looked down at Wingester with sorrowful eyes.


“…….”
“...I beg you. Wingester.”
“You must know what Romulus did, right?”
“……!”
“My anger holds not a shred of falsehood. Princess. Please return.”


Finally, the princess bit her lip, seeming to deliberate, before delivering the decisive line to Wingester.


“Then I shall ask you. Do you intend to... kill Romulus?”
“What?!”


Romulus, listening nearby, flinched and looked down at Wingester.


Though their start had been rocky, they had been participating in club activities together and considered themselves friendly rivals.
Yet the princess's words made it clear that was nothing but Romulus's delusion.


“......”


Wingester said nothing, merely offering a casual smile.


“Wingester...”
“...Do I seem like that kind of person to you?”


The princess, choking back emotion, swallowed hard and nodded.


“...Yes.”
“......”
“Wingester...!”


It seemed the princess possessed some talent for discerning people's hearts.
That she could pierce through Wingester's own thoughts with such precision.


“...Anyway, Your Highness. Please return. A magic duel is no child's play.”
“It doesn't matter. I'm a magician capable of protecting myself.”
“......”
“Or is it because something has happened that you cannot show me?”


The more they spoke, the more Wingester found himself drawn into it.
Finally, ignoring her, he stood silently at his position, beginning to fiddle with and inspect his magic tools.


“...Begin.”
“Wait. Wingester.”
“Why?”
“...I'd like you to answer the princess's question.”


Romulus wore an expression of unprecedented seriousness.
He had to confirm the true intentions of this man, whom he had always considered a good rival and friend.


Because depending on his answer, the nature of this duel would be turned upside down.


“......”
“Wingester! Answer me! What am I to you?!”
“Romulus...”


Wingester gritted his teeth.
Honestly, his thoughts about him weren't fully sorted out yet.


He was definitely an annoying guy, but...


“...You see me as a rival, but that's a serious miscalculation.”
“……!”
“You see... I could only fight you on equal terms after I resolved to ‘kill you’.”
“...What?”
“To bridge the gap between our starting points, that was the only way.”


Only then did the princess understand why Wingester had been so fiercely determined.


For the one without to bring down the one with, they must throw everything they have at it, by any means necessary.


That was how vast the gap between them truly was.


“Was it a few years ago... Back then, thanks to you doing that stupid thing of kidnapping Berett, it was easier to steel my resolve.”
“Guh...!”
“But now, that's gone. You're purely burning with a competitive spirit, seeing me as a rival...”
“Yeah, it's different now. Because you beat me.”
“That's what's so terribly wrong.”
“So what the hell are you talking about?!”
“...I didn't win.”
“What?!”
“In that moment, I truly intended to ‘kill’ you.”
“……!”


Wingester, seemingly resolved, unwrapped the Barrett Staff from its cloth.


“And you're ‘alive’ now.”
“…….”
“At that point, I lost to you.”
“Gah…!”
“So, all this time, you've been running around saying you'd surpass me. From my perspective, that was quite a nuisance.”


The princess bit her lip, her eyes fixed on the two of them.
She didn't know what would happen if they clashed now.
If things got too extreme, she was prepared to throw herself in to stop them.


“Wingester…!”
“Come at me. Romulus. Today… I’ll finally put you to rest.”
“You mean it…?”
“…Yes. Finishing what we couldn’t that day… here would be fitting.”


-To be continued-

The fruits of the research were finally becoming visible.
Going beyond simply using silk instead of mithril, they coated the silk with a thin layer of mithril. This began to produce performance that would make conventional concentrators weep.


Sssssss-


Though the rustling sound of fabric each time it activated tickled the ears in a peculiar way, this would drastically reduce the weight of mages' wands.


“Coating the thread with mithril...”


Wingester gazed at the completed thesis, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.
This could cause a major stir throughout the entire kingdom.
If he gave the production blueprints to his father and had them mass-produced for sale, it would likely become a great source of income for the shop.


“Berett. Thank you so much.”


Berett, who had been organizing the bundles of mithril-coated silk beside him, seemed slightly startled and fidgeted nervously.


“Oh, it's nothing... Your research is incredibly interesting, and it's been a great experience for me too.”
“Next year is your turn, berett. Work hard.”
“Yes! I'll do research that will surprise you too, Senior!”


Seeing her eyes shine, Wingester felt reassured.
Between the matter with Romulus and Wingester himself, being a half-blood pursuing upper-level courses at the academy wasn't exactly ideal.


With low mana aptitude, earning practical skills points was nearly impossible, and even theory proved difficult.


The faculty barely gave such students the minimum passing grade, practically pushing them aside and ignoring them.
In this environment, simply learning and researching properly was a major ordeal.


“Let's go submit it to the Magitech professor.”


Tucking the completed, thick thesis—the size of a book—under my arm, I left the lab.


As I exited the lab building and was just heading toward the professors' building, I ran into Romulus, who was returning empty-handed, presumably having already submitted his work.

“Hey. Going to submit now?”
“Yeah. Looks like you've already finished submitting?”
“Yeah. Professor Koch praised me.”
“……!”


The fact that he'd submitted to Professor Koch—renowned for never giving lenient evaluations—and even received praise meant Romulus must have conducted some ingenious research of his own.


That self-assured look on Romulus's face right now was definitely not just bluff.


“About that courtesy thing, can we do it the day after graduation?”
“...Sure.”


Just as the two were glaring at each other fiercely, burning with competitive spirit, someone emerged from the lab building, spotted them, and approached.


“...What were you two discussing?”
“......?”
“...Ah.”


When they turned to look, standing there was the Third Princess, wrapped in her graduation thesis like silk—slightly thinner than Wingester, but undeniably present.


“Y-Your Highness...!”
“......!”
“The Princess?!”


Seeing the two male students hastily bowing, berett belatedly bowed as well.


The princess waved her hand dismissively at the three of them,


“It's fine. Here, I'm just a student too. If you bow so excessively...”
“But, Princess, showing disrespect to a member of the royal family is a grave offense. Please understand...”


Romulus responded smoothly, then gestured toward the professors' building with an arm extended, indicating his intention to escort her.


Watching this, the princess calmly shook her head slightly and said,


“It's fine, Romulus. I can go on my own.”
“Ah...”
“More importantly, what were you two discussing just now?”


At the princess's question, Romulus flinched, averting his gaze. Wingester, as always, moved his feet as if preparing to head toward the professor's quarters with his usual slightly insolent attitude.


Romulus blocked Wingester's path, and Wingester, seemingly annoyed, pressed his forehead against Romulus's in irritation, his fighting spirit ignited.


“Move. I'm in a hurry.”
“The princess is asking you a question. At least talk it out before you go.”
“You can do it.”
“Senior?!”


Only after noticing berett's anxious look beside him did he let out a small sigh before turning to face the princess.


“Talk...?”


The moment he tried to speak, it seemed like it would only cause headaches, so he racked his brain for excuses,


“...No lies. Both of you. Please tell me the truth properly.”
“......!”


Her clear eyes met theirs, as if she were looking right into them.


Finally, Romulus opened his mouth, then clenched his teeth and slowly began to speak.


“...After the graduation ceremony ended, the very next day, I promised Wingester we would face each other in a magic duel once more.”


Hesitation.


A flicker of unease crossed the princess's previously composed expression.
She already knew from reports that their previous magic duel had escalated to quite extreme circumstances.


For two people who hated each other so intensely to duel again meant this time, blood would surely be spilled.


“You two. Isn't that a rather hasty decision? You're both still young. Please think it over more carefully...”


Wingester looked at the anxious princess as if he didn't understand what she was saying, while Romulus immediately seemed to grasp her unease and waved his hands dismissively.


“Ah, this time it's not like last time. This magic duel is purely me challenging Wingester, a way to measure our respective levels as magicians...”


Only then did the princess relax her expression. She looked at Wingester, as if to confirm the truth.


“…….”
“Is it true?”
“Wingester.”


Romulus stood beside her, glaring sternly, as if demanding a proper answer.


“…It's true.”


Only then did the princess breathe a sigh of relief, her hand falling from her chest.


“What a relief. I was worried you two had gotten so heated you were going to fight to the death...”
“Hardly. Wingester and I are proper rivals now, unlike back then. We won't do that again. Right?”


Romulus nudged his shoulder, seeking agreement, and Wingester chuckled softly.


“...I wonder about that.”
“Hey!”
“Haha. Just kidding. I don't want to lose to you, of all people.”


Convinced the two no longer harbored any lingering resentment, the princess seemed to make a decision. She drew her staff, bearing the royal crest, from her waist and tapped it lightly on the floor.


“...Princess?”
“......?”
“I've made up my mind.”
“?”
"... I will serve as the official witness for your magical duel.“
”What?!“
”?!"


Caught completely off guard by this unexpected declaration, Romulus waved his hands frantically, stammering incoherently, while Wingester froze in place, speechless.


Indeed, the princess's character left no doubt about her fairness, and as a member of the royal family, she was the ideal candidate to serve as the official witness.


Having witnessed their actions, she might even consider them strong candidates when recruiting talent later.


“Th-that, that's too flattering...!”
“......”


Unlike the flustered Romulus, Wingester averted his gaze, his feelings deeply conflicted.


Romulus might be one thing, but Wingester's Barrett Staff was rooted in his grandfather's research, which had been firmly sealed away.
Was it truly safe to show such a thing to a member of the royal family?


Of course, there was the option of fighting without using the Barrett Staff.
But among the magical tools Wingester could currently create, the Barrett Staff was the only one truly useful in combat.


The opponent was none other than the youngest of the Seiz family, a talent so dense it was overwhelming even for Wingester.
A powerful orthodox mage, at least a 5th Circle Master level, truly a professional combat mage in both name and reality.


Without the Barrett Staff, he simply couldn't face him.


“Why such a sudden decision….”
“Because there are aspects where the two of them have intense feelings toward each other.”
“……!”


The princess was clearly looking at Wingester as she spoke.
From the very moment she first met him, the princess had sensed something in Wingester that should never be felt in children his age.


The same sensation she'd occasionally felt from assassins or attempted kidnappers in the past.
Desperation, resolve, and murderous intent.


“Kuhhh...”


Though only a select few in the royal household knew, the princess possessed one hidden talent.
Whenever she locked eyes with another person, their true intentions would manifest as an image in her mind.


Romulus's image had changed significantly since their first meeting. Unlike before, the current him evoked the form of a young male lion, its thick mane billowing in the wind.


Turning her head to meet Wingester's gaze with difficulty...


Grrrrrrr...!


“…….”


A shabby alleyway.
A wounded jackal, cornered at a dead end, baring its teeth and growling, came to her mind.


If things continued like this, Wingester clearly wouldn't be heading in a good direction.
It was the same image she'd had of him since their first meeting.


“Romulus. Will you agree to have me serve as your notary?”
“……!”


Romulus looked momentarily flustered before nodding.
When she then looked back toward Wingester,


“I refuse.”
“Wingester, you?!”
“Senior?”
“…Could you tell me your reason?”
“…….”


Wingester silently shook his head and began walking toward the faculty building.
It wasn't a story worth explaining to her.


“Wingester, you really?!”
"… Romulus. I don't know about you, but I have my own reasons.“
”……!“
”I don't like showing my abilities in front of the princess or other dignitaries."


Wingester took berett away like that, and Romulus, worried the princess might be heartbroken, looked back at her.


“P-Princess! I'm truly sorry. I should have explained better...”
“…It's fine, Romulus.”
“……?”


Contrary to his expectations, the princess wore a slightly mischievous smile, as if she'd caught him off guard.


“I clearly made a ‘declaration’.”
“Huh?”
“When I said I'd made up my mind, I wasn't ‘requesting’ it of the two of you. I was unilaterally ‘declaring’ that I would do it.”
“Eh...?”
“So, in truth, your consent is meaningless.”


Only then did Romulus seem to grasp something, cold sweat beading on his forehead.


“N-no way...”
“Yes. Regardless of your intentions, I will appear where you two are that day. As a notary.”
“......!”


For the first time, Romulus thought this princess was scary.
He'd always thought her personality was just calm and innocent, but unexpectedly, she had a devilishly cunning side.


-To be continued-

Wingester stared blankly at the sudden proposal, and the lord chuckled softly, waving his hand dismissively.

“Ah. Was it too abrupt after all?”
“Ah, well... how should I put it...”
“If it feels burdensome, you may decline. I never meant to force the issue.”
“......”

Though he said that, the head's eyes seemed unwilling to let him go easily.

“I truly appreciate the offer, but I'm not quite ready to consider something like that yet...”
“Ha ha! I see. Well then, if the opportunity arises again in the future, I'll propose it once more.”

Of course.
Wingester sensed, though he couldn't quite place why, that the head of the Seiz family was determined to recruit him somehow.

As a pragmatist, the head of the Seiz family didn't want to see such a talented young man wasting away in a mere magic tool shop, nor did he want him to catch the eye of some other official and be recruited by them.

Above all, the head valued the fact that keeping him close could stimulate Romulus's competitive spirit and draw out his talent.

“Thank you.”
“Not at all. Just... remember that I do not despise you as others do.”
“......”
“I hold your talent in very high regard. If you wish to pursue your ambitions, I intend to support you fully.”

Wingester bowed deeply in respect.
Regardless of the head's true motives, the fact that the head of the Seiz family held him in high esteem was gratifying.

“Continue striving alongside our Romulus.”
“...Yes. For me too, Romulus is someone I wish to surpass.”

*

The year changed, and Wingester reached the time to prepare his graduation thesis.
Romulus also appeared at the club much less frequently, preparing something of his own.

At berett's strong request, Wingester had taken her on as an assistant and was writing a thesis on developing a lightweight concentrator.

“I never thought this would actually work...”

He surveyed the newly built lightweight concentrator placed atop the completed blueprints, savoring the sense of accomplishment.

Adding copper to the circuits around the magic stone proved effective. Instead of the usual spiral or lattice structures, they based it on a spiral design but densely packed the circuits into a hexagonal, tilted honeycomb pattern.

While they couldn't drastically reduce the weight as much as desired, they managed to cut the volume down to about half the original size.

The weight issue could also be solved by researching lighter materials for the internal circuits.

Together with berett, they tried various approaches to find that material.

Currently, they were experimenting with wire made by twisting brass around mithril, then feeding it into a device that drew out the wire, using this brass-coated mithril wire to further reduce weight.

“Hmm... done.”

He placed the completed new concentrator on the scale, set the previously made concentrator on the other side, and checked if the weight had decreased.
The scales, which wobbled briefly, indicated the newly made concentrator was slightly lighter, but even this didn't satisfy him.

“So this is the limit with metal materials after all.”

Wingester had been feeling skeptical about metal materials themselves for some time now.
Mithril was a relatively light metal, but weaving high-density mana circuits into the concentrator meant it ended up being surprisingly heavy for its volume.
Yet, using other lighter metals wasn't an easy solution either; metals as mana-friendly as mithril were rare.

“If only there was a better material...”

After pondering for a moment, Wingester went to find Haixian.
She was still in the club room, pulling bundles of herbs wrapped in cloth from a cauldron filled with a jumble of herbs and squeezing them out.

“Hey.”
“Wingester? What brings you here?”
“How's your research going?”
“Yeah. This is almost finished.”

With a grunt, she gave one last powerful squeeze. As she shook the wrung-out cloth bundle over a plate, a dark green pill that looked somehow dangerous plopped onto it.

“...Poison?”
“Of course not. I'm from the White Witch family, remember?”
“Ah. Right.”
“I'm making a pill that permanently increases the user's mana pool. This is the fifth prototype.”
“That's fascinating research.”

For people like Wingester, with low mana aptitude and consequently low mana pools, if that pill were properly completed and commercialized, it alone could create new opportunities.

"Honestly, the cost-efficiency is low. But... once the manufacturing formula is established, medicinal farms will increase their supply of ingredients, which will help with commercialization.“
”So, stable pricing and supply will become possible, meaning long-term use will ensure efficiency... is that it?“
”That's the idea."

Just as she was about to pick up the pill, Wingester reached out and grabbed it first.

“What are you doing?”
“Can I try it?”
“Like I said, it's still a prototype in the trial-and-error phase. Are you prepared for potential side effects?”
“...Because I trust you.”
“You idiot!”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Wingester shoved it in his mouth and started chewing.
But before he could even swallow it, he regretted his decision.

“Guh…?!”

At first, the taste was refreshing, so he shrugged it off. But the moment it mixed with his saliva while chewing, an indescribably foul, rotten-like scent filled his mouth, along with a bitter, astringent taste that felt like his tongue was being torn off.

Unable to spit it out, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to chew and swallow...

“Guh... Ugh...!”

His stomach felt like something heavy was pressing down on it, throbbing painfully...!

“I'm... I'm okay...!?”

Haixian looked down at me with concern from beside me.

“H-Haixian…!”
“What's wrong?!”
“You, you… How can you normally eat this stuff as an experiment and still be fine…?!”

Watching Wingester writhe in agony, she silently shook her head and said,

“Witches basically have some level of poison resistance, and since we're treated like guinea pigs for all sorts of things constantly from a young age, we get used to it.”
“……!!”

Thinking what an incredible upbringing that must have been, Wingester staggered out of the club room.
Because if she didn't vomit it out in the bathroom right away, she felt like her stomach would explode.

After wrestling with the drug's side effects in the bathroom for a while, Wingester wiped the cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and barely made it back to the club room.

“Phew….”
“You went through a lot. Is your head clearer now?”
“…Not sure.”
“Then I guess it's a failure again….”

Wingester watched her shake her head regretfully, then belatedly remembered why he was here.

“Come to think of it, I have one question...”
“What is it?”

Wingester asked her in detail about non-metallic materials that were easy to process, lightweight, and good at holding mana.

“Hmm... If that's what you mean...”
“......?”

After a moment's thought, she snapped her fingers and said,

“There is.”
“What material?”
“...Silk. High silk is the best among them.”

Silk is commonly produced within the Magic Kingdom as it's a primary material for robes.
But high silk was a different story.

It was a premium silk exclusive to nations on the Eastern Continent, considered a luxury item even within those countries.

“High silk might be overkill. Regular silk is easy to obtain... but it's worth testing.”

Wingester's eyes lit up as if he'd found the answer.

“Thanks, Haixian. Keep up the good research.”
“Wait a moment!”
“?”

Haixian stopped him and spent some time touching various parts of Wingester's body, placing a hand on his forehead, and so on.

“Hmm... No noticeable changes. Your head really didn't feel clearer or anything?”
“...Not sure.”
“Hmmph. Got it. Keep up the research.”

Stepping out of the club room like that, he saw Zessler walking towards the club room.

“Hey there. Zessler.”
“Wingester? What brings you here?”
“I wanted to ask Haixian something.”
“Ah. I'm just on my way to get my maintenance tools.”
“So, how's that new propeller project coming along?”

He shook his head at Wingester's question.

“Nope. I've already wrecked two... It's no easy challenge.”
“Still, completing it would be a major achievement, right?”
“That's exactly why I'm taking it on. Wingester, make sure your research succeeds too.”
“Right. Hang in there.”

Wingester headed straight out onto the street.
Graduating students could roam freely, regardless of class schedules, if needed for their graduation thesis work.

Heading to Witches' Street, the best place to find silk, Wingester soon entered a wholesaler selling various materials.

“Oh my. A student, are you? Looking for something in particular?”

A plump, middle-aged witch shopkeeper emerged from the corner of the store, greeting him with a smile.

“Do you have any high-quality silk bundles?”
“Of course we do. Are you weaving a new robe?”
“No. I need the thread for an experiment….”

Despite his avoidance of details, she didn't mind, pulling out several bundles of silk dyed in various colors from a display case.

“Which one will you take?”
“Hmm... I'll take the white one, please.”

After buying five skeins of thread from the shop and putting them in her bag, she returned to her laboratory.
She conveyed the suggestion to try silk to Berett, who was deep in thought while organizing the results of tests on various materials on the blackboard.

“Silk definitely has potential. But...”
“?”
“Silk is a soft fiber, right? How can we create a precise hexagonal structure with this?”
“......”

Wingester, realizing that part was indeed problematic, also fell into deep thought.
Moreover, its softness made it difficult to secure it firmly to the core magic stone.

After exploring various solutions, they improved the structure by carving grooves into the magic stone itself for the circuitry, allowing the silk to simply be inserted into these grooves.
The result was the most ideal form: the weight was reduced to just that of the magic stone, with the silk contributing almost none.

“Now, if this just activates properly…!”

Wingester fervently hoped as he placed the metal cover over the concentrator.
Success here would mean a major innovation in mana concentrator materials.

Compared to expensive and relatively hard-to-find mithril, or even silver which offered decent value, silk was a very cheap material since it was also used in robes and such.
If it became certain that concentrators could be made from silk, the price of mana concentrators could be drastically reduced.

Click.

The cover was fully attached and mounted on the test stand.
Berett watched with hopeful eyes, and Wingester calmly activated the mana.

Sssshhh….

Unusually, instead of a resonant hum, a soft, almost brushing sound accompanied the faint glow of mana emanating from the mana concentrator.
The silk-made mana concentrator was functioning.

“……!!”
“It's incredible…!”
“It works…! With this…!”

-To be continued-

As he advanced to higher grades, the difficulty of most magic courses rose beyond Wingester's reach.


Fortunately, he maintained high scores in liberal arts subjects like Magitech, so he had no trouble staying in the middle-to-lower tier.


When winter break arrived, as promised, the Seize family sent an invitation to the Mustang household.


“They really came. Are you going?”
“Yes. It's a rare invitation.”


Wingester had no reason to refuse an opportunity to observe and learn about the prestigious families of the Magic Kingdom.


Even so, he couldn't ignore the possibility of the unexpected. He wrapped his Barrett Staff in cloth, secured it tightly beside his bag, and then picked up the bag.


Walking a short distance north along the Mado Kingdom's historic central avenue, the ‘Ridge of Wisdom’ appeared, where the mansions of the prominent families sat nestled at the foot of the mountains.


Among the five mansions perched highest on the ridge, Wingester's destination was the one farthest to the left. It bore an emblem of two crossed staffs within a large tower shield.


The Seiz Family.
One of the five highest-ranking noble houses known as founding meritorious subjects, they styled themselves the ‘Guardians of Arcane Knowledge’ and served as the royal shield, holding key positions in the Royal Guard Mage Corp for generations.


Politically, they tended to support the Third Princess and stay one step removed from the royal succession race, as the Seiz family fundamentally disdained involvement in such power struggles.


Unlike other noble houses, which generally divided into aristocratic or royalist factions or actively participated in the royal succession race to demonstrate their power, the Seize family had a strong tradition of serving in the King's direct guard corps and emphasizing loyalty solely to the monarch.


“Are you Wingester?”
“Yes.”


Guided by a man who appeared to be a servant of the mansion, he entered the interior and was led into a spacious, luxurious reception room.


“Well, well. You're here.”
“Senior—”


Those already seated in the reception room, enjoying refreshments and conversation, greeted him warmly.


“You're earlier than expected?”
“Well, it just happened.”
“My house is nearby.”
“Hm?”


When everyone expressed surprise at Zessler suddenly mentioning his house being nearby, Zessler shrugged and said,


“My family runs one of the largest carriage companies in the kingdom. And it's located right below the Ridge of Wisdom.”
“You mean that company was your family's?”


Romulus lit up, explaining that all the carriages his family used were ordered from that very company.


“Heh heh. Our shop has been making carriages for the nobility for generations. Well, I'm more into researching airships than carriages myself...”


Zessler felt embarrassed, recalling the days he'd been scolded at home.


“For reference, my house is the farthest, so I left super early in the morning.”


Haixian's house was in the outermost district of the capital, in the area between the slums and the city center where the descendants of the witches resided.


“By the way, Zessler. How's that anti-gravity thing you've been working on?”


Wingester was very interested in the special power device Zessler had been obsessed with lately.
Understanding its operating principle would surely help improve the structure of the Barrett Staff.


“Nope. Haven't gotten any usable results yet. Had two accidents already, and my parents gave me a good thrashing.”


Zessler sighed and shook his head, and Wingester silently shared his disappointment.


“And it's not ‘anti-gravity’ or whatever! It's the ‘Anti-Graviton Hover Flow’! Or the ‘Anti-Gravity Levitation Propulsion Unit’!”
“Grav... what?”
“Anti! Graviton! Hover! Flow!”


Wingester's frown at the unexpectedly complex name made Zessler grind his teeth.


“Fine! Anti-gravity propulsion device! That's good enough, right?!”
“Uh... I guess that'll do.”


Just as the two nodded in agreement, settling on a suitable name, Berett carefully picked up a biscuit and handed it to Wingester.


“Senior! Here you go!”
“Huh? Ah, yeah. Thanks.”


Taking the biscuit, Romulus and Wingzester discussed next year's graduating class.


“Graduation's coming soon. Feels complicated in many ways.”
“I'm looking forward to it? It means I can step onto a stage to let my talents bloom, right?”


Romulus intended to join the Royal Guard Mage Corp, following his family's tradition of generations serving there.
There had been an offer from the Arcane Veil, but Romulus still wanted to carry on his family's legacy.


“The Royal Guard Mage Corp? You plan to join?”
“Yes. It's a proud family tradition passed down for generations.”
“…….”


Family business.
For Wingester, it meant taking over his parents' shop.


But Wingester also harbored a dream: to become a hero in the kingdom, using his grandfather's legacy.
Which path should he choose?


“...What are you thinking about?”
“Ah, nothing. I was just thinking a little about carrying on the family business too...”
“Huh. Just to take over the shop?”
“…….”


When Wingester mentioned taking over the shop, Romulus couldn't hide his disappointment.


He resented that the man who had opened new horizons for him as a mage was content to remain merely the proprietor of a magic goods shop.


“...If it's okay with you, I could talk to the Royal Guard Mage Corp...”
“That's impossible. You know that well enough.”
“......!”


Among the Royal Guard Mage Corp's enlistment requirements was the demanding condition of being able to use combat magic at least at the mid-5th Circle level.


For Wingester, with his meager mana aptitude that barely reached a 4th-circle master, it was an impossible realm.


“Of course, that doesn't mean I have no other thoughts besides simply continuing the shop...”
“......”


Romulus knew it well too.
In this country, it was nearly impossible for those with low magical aptitude to rise to prominence.


Most military positions required at least a 4th or 5th circle, capable of combat magic, as a baseline. Even if that wasn't strictly the case, ranks were strictly determined by mana aptitude.


“Come to think of it, berett, have you thought about your path after graduation?”


Wingester suddenly remembered and looked at berett.


“I, I... am still considering it.”


She still had a little time left before graduation.
Like Wingester, her options were limited due to her mana aptitude. She would likely end up inheriting the family business too.


“Good to have you here. Make yourselves comfortable.”


From the staircase leading upstairs, Romulus's father, the current head of the Seiz family, descended and gave a light bow.


“No, thank you. We are the ones grateful. Opportunities like this are rare...”


When Wingester stepped forward and bowed, he smiled contentedly and placed a hand on Wingester's shoulder.


“It's only natural, since you've broadened my horizons too.”
“Pardon?”
“You defeated Romulus in a magic duel, didn't you? You've shown that mana aptitude isn't everything.”
“......”


He was truly a pragmatist.
Though he didn't openly oppose the kingdom's policies, he was well aware that the current system, which drew lines based solely on the narrow measure of mana aptitude, needed change.


It was simply that his position as the commander of the mere Royal Guard Mage Corp, lacking significant political influence, prevented him from openly voicing it.


“Drop by sometime after you graduate. Promising young people like you are always welcome.”
“Th-thank you.”


Around the time he was staying at the mansion for a week's courtesy, an unfamiliar scene unfolded in the laboratory set up in the mansion's basement.


“You need to put more power into your fingertips.”
“Ah, yes! Like this?”
“Yes. Let's do that movement 100 times.”
“One hundred times…!”
“The basics are crucial. I personally train with over three hundred repetitions every morning.”
“…….”


Romulus was receiving sword training from a mercenary who appeared to be of a higher rank, holding a wooden sword.


“...Romulus?”
“...Ah.”
“……?”


Romulus, momentarily startled but soon regaining his composure, sat down nearby and watched Wingester perform the repetitive motions with renewed interest.


“...Let's call it a day here. Good work.”
“Good work.”


After about two hours of instruction on basic sword techniques, Romulus approached with a confident stride.


“...Why sword techniques?”


Romulus looked down on Wingester without answering.
Wingester sensed immediately that further questions were unnecessary.
It seemed he had chosen swordsmanship to surpass Wingester.


“...In an ancient text, when the gun was first invented, a prophet is said to have spoken these words.”
“…?”
“‘The sword is stronger than bare hands, and the gun is stronger than the sword’….”


He lightly taunted, implying that no amount of sword training using that maxim could ever surpass Wingester himself.


It was the kind of provocation that would have made the old Romulus fly into a rage and charge.


But,


Heh.


“I'll overturn both your smug face and that fancy proverb of yours.”


Instead, Romulus smiled calmly and provoked him back.


“Hoh. That sounds interesting?”
“Kchk-. Just know I'm not doing this simply to become a mage-swordist.”
“……!”


Romulus might be reckless, but he wasn't stupid.
No matter how talented a mage with high mana aptitude he was, merely becoming a mage-swordist who combined swordsmanship would only mean living out Wingester's maxim.


That he, who understood this better than anyone, displayed such confidence meant Wingester must be preparing something truly astonishing.
Wingester felt a surge of tension inside, gritting his teeth as he forced a smile.


In the afternoon, at the request of Lord Seiz, they sat facing each other in his study, drinking tea.


The lord spoke to Wingester about integrating magical tools into the magic operation that the guard mages were always focused on—the immediate use of defensive magic.


“Indeed, our shop carries several such magical tools. Especially ones that protect the user or create distance in dangerous situations like close combat...”
“That's intriguing. Are there many that also incorporate high-level magic capable of withstanding combat spells or auras from experts and above?”


The lord privately wished he could mass-order such high-level magical tools to supply his guard mages.


If such powerful defensive magic could be rapidly activated instantly using a magical tool, most incantations could be fully dedicated to destructive magic for counterattacking enemies.


“Magical devices of that caliber are rather uncommon. Since most craftsmen are artisans with low mana aptitude...”
“Hmm...I see. So you're saying collaborating with a high-ranking mage would make it feasible to produce them?”
“Ah, yes. In that case, it would be considerably easier to create them.”


The head of the household silently resolved to send someone to Wingester's shop soon, then gradually began to get to the main point.


“Are you also taking over the family business...?”
“...Huh?”
“I've heard that students with low mana aptitude have their career paths blocked. So I've also heard that many students simply settle for taking over the family business...”
“......”


The headmaster, sipping his tea, asked casually.


“...Is that the case for you too?”
“......”


Wingester, who had been slightly bowing his head in thought for a moment, decided that answering honestly was the proper courtesy and raised his head.


“My parents' shop is certainly a precious part of me. However....”
"... ….“
”I… I think I want to make a name for myself in the kingdom, if possible.“
”…Indeed.“


Seeing the faint, smoldering heat of ambition in this young man's clear eyes, the head of the family was certain.
This young man was absolutely not the type to just take over the family business and settle down.


”I'm sorry. It's a dream beyond my station…."
“No. While the odds may be slim, it's certainly a goal worth pursuing.”
“……!”


Having shown his support for Wingester, he quickly brought up the main point.


“...Would you consider becoming a son-in-law of our Seiz family?”
“Huh?!”


-To be continued-

Berett was the one who showed the most interest in Haixian's herbalism.


He began following her out night after night to gather herbs, and soon they were clinking cauldrons together, immersed in making potions.


“That's surprising. I never would have guessed Berett was interested in herbalism...”
“I've always been interested in things like landscaping.”


Watching her giggle happily, Wingester thought it was a pleasant sight and focused on his concentrator work.


At least now, the unfortunate situation of creating something that didn't function wasn't happening.
The only problem was that it wasn't achieving the desired performance.


“Hmm...”


He turned the circuit diagram he'd drawn on the magic stone this way and that, pondering it again.
Even with the recently improved structure, it wasn't yielding satisfactory results.
He really needed a more groundbreaking method.


“So that's how you make a concentrator. No wonder it's so expensive.”


Romulus, who had just finished his magic practice and entered, watched Wingester's work and shook his head in amazement. Wingester chuckled softly.


“Of course. The mana concentrator is cutting-edge technology, the very essence of Magitech.”
“It was that advanced?”
"Yeah. Honestly, I'm only just reaching the level where I can make things that barely function.“


After a moment's thought, Romulus snapped his fingers and asked,


”But you have several of those in your shop, right? Who made all those?“
”...My father.“
”Ah."


Romulus nodded in understanding.


“Wait a minute, so you're saying your father is a craftsman skilled enough to mass-produce that advanced equipment?”
“Yeah. Believe it or not, it's been passed down as a family business for over five generations. Even before he came of age, Father grew up learning all sorts of things from Grandfather at the shop.”
“...That's similar to me.”


When Wingester looked up, wondering what he meant, he saw Romulus shrugging his shoulders, his expression somehow sad.


“I also started early combat magic training not long after I learned to walk, unable to resist my mother's nagging.”
“…….”


He could imagine how harsh that training must have been.
No need to look further—Romulus's wavering eyes now spoke volumes about how difficult that time had been.


“...Being from a prestigious family isn't all it's cracked up to be.”
“Of course not. To live up to the name, you have to earn the qualifications.”
“......”


Realizing they each carried their own burdens, the two soon became engrossed in their respective tasks.


*


“Gasp…! Gasp…!”
“Huff…!”


Two steps behind, Romulus gritted his teeth, picked up his pace, and finally began running alongside Wingester.
With four days left until the end of the special training, he had finally caught up to Wingester.


“......!”


Wingester, who had believed he held the advantage outside of magical aptitude, felt his mind grow complicated.
This guy... he can't possibly have exceptional athletic ability too, can he?


“Huff...! Huff...!”
“Hmph...! Haah...!”


After running head-to-head for about 30 minutes, Romulus finally began to fall behind again with just the last half lap remaining.


“Hah…!”
“K…ugh!”


After stumbling briefly, he gritted his teeth and closed the gap to two strides behind.
His pace must have broken, yet he recovered in that short time.


“Not bad...?”
“Like I'd lose...! Just a little more...!”


Both men raced to the stone in front of the cabin, their destination, and collapsed onto the porch, gasping for breath.


“Phew...! Honestly, I can't relax either...”
“Grr... Infuriating! It was just a little further...!”
“Ha ha...! Like it'd be that easy...!”
“Guh...!”


That night.
The special training was racing towards its conclusion.


Gathered together at berett's suggestion, the group was discussing their plans for the rest of the vacation.


“What are you planning to do for the rest of the break, Senior?”
“......”


Even if asked, he didn't really have any plans in mind.
At best, he'd probably focus on building a new concentrator, utilizing the know-how he'd gained here.
And maybe help out at his parents' shop while he was at it.


Hearing this, berett's expression inexplicably grew gloomy.


Romulus, listening nearby, nudged Wingester's side with his elbow and shook his head.


“Why?”
“...You're something else...”
“And what about you? Got any plans?”
“My eldest brother's coming home on leave, so I'll be training in destructive magic with him.”
“......”


His eldest brother, who serves in the Imperial Guard Mage Corps alongside their father, was apparently coming home on leave.


“What about Haixian?”
“I plan to go to the Maritime Kingdom.”
“The Maritime Kingdom?”
“Yeah.”


When he looked at him questioningly, wondering if there was some reason,


“...I need to procure medicinal herbs coming in from the Eastern Continent.”
“Ah.”
“By the way, Zessler is coming with me too.”
“...Zessler too?”
“I sent a letter earlier this year to visit a famous carriage manufacturer. I plan to apply the internal structure, materials, and manufacturing methods to my airship construction.”


Even during vacation, they weren't playing around but moving toward their own goals. If that was typical of them, then it was just them being themselves.


“Everyone's on vacation, yet you don't seem to have any plans to play at all.”


Finally, berett puffed out her cheeks in complaint.


“Didn't you have something to do too, berett?”


When Haixian tilted her head,


“Well, I don't really have anything...”


Berett stammered, avoiding eye contact. Finding her adorable, Haixian giggled, hugged her, and stroked her hair.


“...Wingester.”
“......?”
“Take proper care of her, okay?”
“What?”
“Your cute junior.”


Haixian promptly shoves Berett towards him with both hands, almost as if pushing her off.


Wingester finally seemed to catch on, scratching the back of his head and looking embarrassed.


“Ugh... I know. Looks like everyone's busy except me....”
“Well, if you're busy too, senior....”


Haixian watched the two of them, her mouth moving silently to mutter ‘idiot couple’.


*


The special training period ended.


Romulus, who had somehow managed to gain stamina comparable to Wingester's in that short time, declared he must continue his physical training and returned to his family.


Zessler and Haixian secured a carriage bound for the Maritime Kingdom as planned and departed.
Berett and Wingester met every few days, spending time discussing their respective research.


One late summer morning, as the vacation was nearing its end and the lingering heat was still intense.
While Wingester was organizing the magic tools on the display shelf, someone poked him in the back.


“……?”


Turning around, he found his mother standing there, wearing a slightly mischievous smile.


“Mother…?”
“Today's Saturday, isn't it? You don't have to tidy up.”
“But the morning opening hours….”
“We're taking the day off.”
“Huh?”


His mother chuckled and pointed toward the entrance….
The bell on the door jingled, signaling someone's arrival.
Surely it wasn't even opening time yet…?


“Excuse me-.”
“……!”


It was the berett family who entered.
Caught completely off guard, Wingester stood frozen in place, dazed, while his mother greeted them with a smile, as if she had known all along.


Wingester's parents had arranged for berett's family to join them for a meal.
Eventually, they gathered around the spacious table in the shop's backyard to have lunch together, abandoning the morning business.


Wingester protested fiercely with his eyes, demanding why he hadn't been told beforehand, but his mother just laughed it off nonchalantly.


“So you're Wingester?”


A middle-aged man, who appeared to be berett's father, promptly extended his hand for a handshake.
Wingester reflexively took it with both hands, but flinched momentarily.


His hands were covered in scars—burned and torn in places.
No doubt the glorious marks earned from years of metalwork.


“…….”
“You have a good look in your eyes. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to thank you for saving berett.”
“Ah, no need. It was the right thing to do.”


Seeing her blush, he chuckled and released her hand.


“I hope you'll continue to get along well with our berett.”
“Of course. Even though I'm her junior, I have much to learn from her in many ways.”
“You?”
“Her craftsmanship is extraordinary.”


Berett fidgeted with her fingers, embarrassed by Wingester's honest praise, while her father cleared his throat stiffly.


“Well, she's been learning my trade at home since she was old enough to understand.”


Wingester nodded, feeling a strange kinship with her, having lived a similar life.


“Come to think of it, young Wingester, you also helped out at the shop from around the time you came of age, didn't you?”
“Yes. I learned how to make simple magical tools, so I often help out.”
“Is that how you ended up helping berett?”


Wingester nodded.
Although it was an inheritance from his grandfather, the current Barrett Staff had advanced to the point where it could be considered Wingester's own research.


“So that's why Professor Koch took notice.”


A short while later.
Over their meal, the two families were bonding at an alarming speed.
Perhaps it was because they shared similar professions, making conversation flow easily.


Eventually, the two fathers, fueled by alcohol in broad daylight, were completely carried away.


“Wingester!”
“Ah, yes!”
“...Go play outside with berett.”
“Huh?”
“Come on! Adults have their own things to talk about. Berett's father gave permission, so go play!”


Wingester gazed at the sky where the sunset was fading for a moment, then let out a groan. But his tipsy father showed no sign of retracting his order.


“...Should I go?”
“......”


Berett followed him out silently, feeling embarrassed.
Now that they were out, she had no clue where to go or what to do at this hour.


The usual Wingester would have suggested heading to the library without a second thought, but...


“......”
“......”


The current atmosphere made that choice impossible.
Something inside him sounded an alarm, warning that if he suggested the library, she would surely be disappointed.


“...Want to... take a walk?”
“...Yes. That sounds good.”


Berett chuckled softly, nodded, and silently began walking alongside Wingester.


-To be continued-

Summer vacation had arrived.
For several years now, Wingester had spent every summer vacation holed up in a mountain cabin for two weeks, immersing himself in special training.


He believed that to master the Barrett Staff, he needed to learn the agile and stealthy movements of a hunter.


“Huff, huff, huff…!”


He sprinted up the steep mountain path to his cabin, breathing minimally.
The cabin looked shabby, overgrown with vines and covered in dust, as if it had been neglected for a year.


“Guess I have to start with cleaning again.”


Though he'd expected it, the thought of doing it again felt bothersome. After catching his breath, Wingester pulled out the cleaning supplies.


Only after sweeping and wiping the surroundings for a while, giving it a thorough tidy-up, did the cabin regain its proper appearance.


“Now it feels livable.”


Just as he finished bringing his luggage inside and stepped out, familiar faces came into view.


“Senior!”
“Hey there. Wingester.”
“...Berett? And, Romulus?”


He hadn't told the club members about this place, so how had they found it?


“Your parents said you'd be doing two weeks of physical training here during your break.”
“Oh.”


Only then did Wingester realize how they'd found him, scratching the back of his head.


“So, what brings you here? The mountain paths aren't properly maintained, so it must've been pretty rough getting here.”
“We couldn't let you do this great activity alone. Since it's a rare chance, we thought we'd make it a club training camp.”
“...Are you sure? It's a pretty grueling course for beginners, right?”


He was genuinely concerned, but Romulus gritted his teeth and raised his fist.


“You've been doing this for years, so there's no way I can't do it! Even if catching up right away is impossible, I'll climb right up to your chin!”
“No, that's not what I meant...”
“Like you, I'm not very good with mana either, so I figured building up my physical strength might come in handy somewhere! I'll work hard!”


The two looked full of enthusiasm.
Finally, he shook his head and shifted his gaze to the remaining two.


“Zessler. You're full of enthusiasm too?”
“I came to conceptualize new blueprints in the fresh air. Exercise... I'll join if I feel like it.”
“I came because I'm interested in the medicinal herbs growing wild on this mountain. Help me find them, and I'll make you some good medicine later.”


Seems everyone had their own purpose after all.


“You've prepared thoroughly, right? Two weeks isn't short.”
“No worries. If it comes down to it, I'll just teleport there and back.”
“...No way.”


Teleportation is strictly an upper-tier spatial movement magic at the very beginning of the 6th Circle.
No matter what, there's no way he's already reached that level...


“...No problem if I calibrate the coordinates with a magic circle.”


Romulus's declaration, accompanied by a confident smile as if asking Wingester what he thought, caused Wingester to grit his teeth inwardly.


Even so, to have already entered the 6th Circle?
Just how much talent does that guy have?


“Huh? Senior Romulus, you've already reached the 6th Circle?!”
“...No way. That's like the level of legendary Archmages.”
“Ha ha ha! I haven't fully entered it yet. It's more like hanging on by a thread. Still, with a few more months of effort, I should be able to get in.”


Receiving everyone's congratulations, Romulus proudly carved a magic circle containing teleport coordinates into the empty space in one corner of the hut, just in case.


“Don't overuse it. It's bad for your physical training.”
“...I know.”


*


The two weeks that turned into an intensive club training camp began.


While Zessler and Haixian began focusing on their own tasks, Romulus and Berett doggedly stuck to Wingester's training regimen.


“Huff... huff...!”
“Haah...!”
“Puff... puff... puff...!”


After running nonstop for two hours, Wingester finally stopped. Romulus, who had been crawling along behind him, collapsed and slumped down.


“Damn it…! It's way harder than I thought…Huff…much harder…!”
“…I'll give you credit for your grit, but if a beginner pushes to keep up with my pace, you'll wreck your body before you build any stamina.”
“Guh... Ugh...!”


Wingester calmly looked down at him, who was twitching his eyebrows as if annoyed, and offered advice.


“You don't have to match my speed. Just complete my course at your own rhythm. You still have two whole weeks.”
“Guh...! I see... I was too impatient... Huu... What a sight.”


Romulus, whose face had been clenched in determination, now had a calm, settled look in his eyes. He shook his head, regaining his composure.


“Berett too. Don't push yourself too hard.”
“Ah... Haa... Yes!”


That night.
They gathered ingredients, made a pot full of stew, and each took a bowl to finish their meal.


“Huh... Are you running at night too?”


Wingester shook his head at Romulus's question.


“It's dark, and the ground's damp, making the stones slippery and dangerous.”
“Then what are we doing now?”
“......”


Wingester silently pulled a book from his luggage and showed it.


“Indeed. So you hone your studies at night.”
“Yes.”


What had once been Wingester's solitary reading time became a shared moment with his club friends, exchanging research and learning from each other.


Wingester spent some time discussing the design plans for a new airship propulsion system with Zessler, then received a brief explanation from Romulus about high-level offensive magic.


Romulus, for his part, eagerly questioned Wingester about the structure and application of mana concentrators, showing particular enthusiasm about how to better utilize his own wand.


“So, each concentrator has its own unique direction for channeling mana?”
“Exactly. Knowing or not knowing that direction is the key to mastering the concentrator.”


Romulus fiddled with the cylindrical concentrator attached to his own wand, which he had brought along.


“Can you tell this one's rotation direction too?”
“Easy.”


Wingester lightly placed a leaf beside his concentrator.


“Now, try manamotion.”
“Huh? Got it.”


Wiiiiiiiiing-


Mana swirled with a deep, resonant hum befitting its vast quantity. The leaf crackled and began whirling wildly to the left.


“It's turning left.”
“Huh... I never noticed. I always consciously used it for right turns.”


Romulus, who had paused his maneuvering, sprang up from his spot.


“Romulus?”
“Just a sec! I want to try something.”


Romulus, eyeing a large boulder positioned on one side of the cabin's entrance path, aimed his staff and activated his concentrator.


“Left turn... left turn...!”


Kiiiiiiing-!


Unlike the first time, the Focused Energy activated with a much more powerful and sharp sound. It reacted, even sparking, as if signaling that the massive amount of mana had reached its critical point.


“...!!...Lightning Javelin!”


Spaaaat-!!


Faster and thicker than before, the lightning spear pierced the rock, discharging wildly and making the stone glow briefly.


Seeing steam rise from the rock, Romulus's eyes burned with satisfaction.


“…Impressive…!”
“I knew the theory, but I never imagined the effect would be this different….”


If only Romulus had known this technique during their magic duel….
Wingester suddenly felt a chill run down his spine and gritted his teeth.
Without realizing it, he had elevated his rival to a higher level.


“This... I have to step up my game too...!”


The formula for the high-level offensive magic he learned from Romulus would undoubtedly be a huge help to Wingester.
If he applied this formula well, it would evolve the magic bullets of the Barrett Staff into something even more agile and deadly.


*


The next day was spent with berett.
They gripped magic stones together, immersing themselves in mastering the know-how of her craftsmanship techniques.


“You need to relax your grip a bit more.”
“Uh... like this?”


Clunk.


“Ah.”
“Oh dear...”


Watching the magic stone slip limply and roll across the floor, Wingester broke out in a cold sweat, wondering if she'd relaxed her grip too much.
It was definitely tricky work.


Romulus was testing his magic on the same rock again, trying to fully internalize the direction of the concentrator's rotation.


“Turn left...! Left side...! Make it whirl...!”


Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiㅅ


Wingester could tell Romulus was different now—no longer the cocky fool who relied solely on talent.


“Ugh... mana... mana...”


After recklessly spamming magic, he finally collapsed from mana depletion.
Wingester chuckled softly, paused his work, and helped him onto the hut's wooden platform.


“Aren't you pushing yourself too hard?”
“Pushing myself? High-level magic is my specialty! This training camp has given me a new goal! I will master the concentrator! Just you wait and see!”
"... Yeah. I'm also going to create a new magic bullet using the magic formula you taught me.“


Wingester proudly revealed his research, flashing his wicked smile.


”Hmph. Next time, I'll properly block you with defensive magic.“
”I'll prepare something that can pierce through that defensive magic."
“Guh! You're so annoying!”
“You're the one.”


A week passed, and each had achieved some results from their exchange.
Wingester gained the ability to craft focusers with more delicate hand movements.


Romulus now genuinely kept up with Wingester during daytime physical training, closing the gap to just two steps behind.


As he grew more accustomed to wielding his staff, a stable hum began emanating from it—a welcome bonus compared to the initial clumsiness.


Thanks to advice from Wingester, Zessler scrapped his initial blueprints and succeeded in drastically compressing the propulsion unit's volume by about half.


Haixian scoured the locations Wingester mentioned, gathering large quantities of medicinal herbs.


“By the way, you're an alchemist, but you do pharmacology too?”


To Wingester's curiosity, she merely offered a faint smile.


“I come from the White Witch lineage.”
“……!”


He knew the story: some of the witch factions persecuted in the Northern Continent had fled south, seeking refuge and settling in the Magic Kingdom.


However, the Magic Kingdom didn't recognize distinct professions like alchemists or witches. Instead, it lumped them all together under the single term ‘magician’. As time passed, many witch families saw their distinct identities blur and fade away.


“That... must have been tough.”
“Not really. Unlike other kids, I just have low magical aptitude, so I focus on this instead.”


She shrugged it off coolly, gathered a few herbs haphazardly, and headed toward her cauldron.


-To be continued-