My Master's Pride

We were producing a massive amount of Pusiny in Beisk.

Now that we have the Silver Card, we can make ten at once with just 11 magic points, so we’ve been doing nothing but making them.

The people of Beisk are vastly more numerous than in that other town—making them one by one would be a nightmare.

Even now, I’m just laying down magic circles left and right, and Risha and Mira are tossing in materials without pause, barely keeping up.

“Huh?”

“What’s wrong, Master?”

I pause mid-motion. Risha looks at me, puzzled.

“This town’s name is Beisk, right?”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“And the other town?”

“The other one?”

“You know, the one where Madway and the others are.”

“Now that you mention it… I’m not sure.”

“I know.”

Mira says.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I overheard Madway and Yoshif talking. They’re calling it Akito.”

"Calling me by my name?"

"Simply splendid."

Risha clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling.

"Hey, hey, no sparkling eyes. And why’re you trying to name the town after me?"

"Well, um, since you built this place from scratch, it only makes sense to name it after you, right?"

"Exactly!"

Risha nodded firmly in agreement.

Makes sense, but still—having my name on a town? Embarrassing.

"..."

Embarrassing, but not unpleasant.

Complicated.

"Akito-san."

Agafon arrived.

"What is it?"

"Gerashim... ah, someone from the neighboring town, Magatan. Says they’ve got something to tell the village headman. What should we do?"

"Let’s meet."

No idea why, but I figured I’d go ahead and see.

Agafon and I headed to my house here in town—the village headman’s place.

A man stood alone in front of a house I’d never lived in.

Young. Thin. Delicate.

"Got him. I brought the village headman, Akito."

"Wait? Wasn't the headman Akito the father of Agafon?"

"Long story. Now Akito’s the headman of Beesuk."

"Long story, huh?"

"Just… long."

That was enough. Somehow, it made sense.

Gerasim turned to me, face straight, and suddenly bowed deeply.

"Please… I beg you—share some food. Lend me some, please!"

"Food? What’s this about?"

"Yes. Recently, our town’s hunting hasn’t gone well. Life’s gotten harder and harder… and now, with the protection fee we pay to Malart… we’re barely holding on."

"Ah."

I nodded. I see.

Or rather—this was exactly the setup for a peasant revolt, wasn’t it? They’re always so damn patient, aren’t they?

Normally, they’d have already risen up against this Malart fellow by now.

Revolts usually start when people are already starving. Always the last resort.

"Please!"

Gerasim bowed again, pressing his plea with all his strength.

Must’ve taken my hesitation as refusal.

"Alright, I’ll share the food."

"Really?!"

"My belly’ll be full, but the taste? No promises."

"You mean that?"

Agafon, who knew Pshiny, gasped.

"Yeah. Leave that to you, Agafon. We’ll keep producing here. You just deliver what’s needed to the other town."

"Got it! ……Thank you."

Not just Gerasim. Even Agafon bowed.

☆

The next time I saw Agafon, he was limping back from the fight, wounded.

I rushed to the town gate when I heard the commotion—there he was, sprawled in blood.

Crowds of townspeople surrounded him. I pushed through, stepped into the center.

"Risha!"

"Here!"

Risha pulled a healing salve from her pocket. Something she’d started keeping on hand for them lately.

I took the salve and applied it to Agafon.

His wounds closed up in moments.

“““Ohhhhh…”””

Cheers and sighs of relief rippled through the crowd.

“…This…?”

Agafon pushed himself up, staring at his hands.

“Never mind that—what happened? Why are you back like this?”

“That’s right! It was Marat!”

“Marat?”

“Yeah. On the way to deliver rations to Gerasim’s town, we were ambushed by Marat’s men. They burned the supplies. I barely escaped.”

“Marat…”

“I’d tried hitting back at Beisk a few times, but your Naitka sent them running. I got careless.”

“…”

He’d already come.

Well. It’s not like it’d be surprising. I’d killed Marat’s younger brother, Lukich. No bloodshed would’ve been odd.

“What do we do now?”

“Good thing Marat can’t come charging in, but if we can’t get out of town, the whole place’ll dry up soon enough.”

“Gotta do something.”

“What’re we supposed to do about it?”

The townspeople muttered among themselves.

All of them, faces tight with worry.

“Agafon.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Go to the warehouse. Bring out Pshinyi again. Enough to take to Gerasim.”

“B-But—”

“I’ll guard you.”

He brandished the Eternal Slave Mark.

Agafon flinched, then sprang into motion.

☆

Night. The wasteland beyond Beisk.

A handcart—something like a rickshaw—loaded with Pshinyi rolled forward beside us.

Agafon and several other men pushed it.

“D-Did it come out?!”

Agafon’s voice trembled.

I followed his gaze. A group of ten or so figures was coming toward us from that direction.

The group was riding something. At first glance, it looked like a bipedal creature—but closer inspection revealed it was a horse-like beast.

A horse walking on two legs. Charging straight at us on it.

“Yowch!—”

“Still coming back, huh?”

“Burn them! Burn them! Burn them!”

A bunch of doomsday freaks, really.

Since they were riding that horse—whatever it was—everyone had long spears, and some carried torches.

They were coming to attack. To burn us to ashes.

“W-what do we do?!”

Agafon, who’d been attacked before, stammered frantically at me.

“Just keep going. Don’t do anything.”

“B-but—”

“Just keep going.”

I said it, then walked straight toward the end-of-the-world group.

—Like this bunch of idiots.

“Master.”

“Which one?”

“Destroy them utterly. So, Risha.”

“Understood.”

Incorporating Eternal Slave Re-Risha.

—Like these clowns.

Colliding head-on with the front of the group.

“Get out of the way, or I’ll run you over.”

The man said that—then his body was already split clean in two.

In the instant they crossed, a single horizontal slash.

The blade of flame cleaved him in half.

—Huh?

The man stared, shocked. In the next moment, both upper and lower halves burst into flames at once.

“Gyaaahhhhhhh—!”

A scream—then fading, dying out.

The scream, brief and loud, was instantly swallowed by fire.

The man turned to ash. The other men stared, frozen, gripping their horses, eyes wide with disbelief.

“W-what the hell are you—”

The second man started to say, but never finished.

Cut down the same way, reduced to ash.

—And yet they dare to act like this.

(Master… are you angry?)

Risha, her blade fused with mine, murmured, puzzled.

I tried to stay calm. My emotions were too high—had to hide it from her.

That Pusini had been reduced to ash just now… the shame of her magic being utterly wasted. I couldn’t let her know I was angry.

I forced myself still, and burned the remaining eight to nothing. Not a trace left.

But—

—Magical charge at 20,000.

Guess I was obvious, then.