"We're heading out!"
We traveled from the foot of the mountain toward the planned experiment ground on the backs of my slimes.
Leading the way was the Huge Bush Slime, carrying five adventurers on its back. Much like its performance in the Great Forest, it slashed through the dense, overgrown vegetation, carving a path up the mountain slope wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side.
Following behind was the Emperor Scavenger Slime, carrying me and the four members of the noble party. It smoothed out the path created by the Huge Bush Slime, tidying up the branches and leaves the adventurers had cleared as we progressed.
Our speed was slow, but considering we were moving five people in a single file up a trackless mountain slope, the pace was actually quite impressive.
"...I feel a bit nya-strange, nyan..." Miya muttered.
"I can understand sliding down a mountain slope, but sliding up one is a first for me," Mizeria added.
"Unlike horses, it’s a very unique sensation," Silia noted.
Jeff shrugged. "Well, you'll get used to it soon enough. It’s not like it shakes much."
"The fact that it doesn't shake at all is actually what feels so weird," Welanna replied.
With the exception of Sebas, who had ridden them before, everyone seemed more or less bewildered by the ride quality. The four beastfolk were particularly restless. When I asked if they were alright, they explained that their naturally sharp senses made this unfamiliar sensation especially distracting. I remembered colleagues and clients in my past life saying that animals take time to acclimate to new environments; perhaps it was something like that?
However, as Jeff said, they would eventually adjust. They mentioned they could always get off and run if it became unbearable, so we pressed on. I didn't want to coddle them too much and make them feel self-conscious.
"My word... This is my first time riding a slime, but it makes me want one for myself," Lord Rosenberg remarked from behind me.
It seemed his interest wasn't mere flattery. When I glanced back, he was repeatedly touching the slime's body beneath his feet.
We had exchanged greetings when we met up, but we had started moving immediately after, so we hadn't spoken much. At our last meeting, he was the specialist and I was the consultant—effectively a client. From now on, however, our relationship was that of teacher and student. This was a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.
"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "A slime of this size can carry a significant amount of cargo, and since they're resilient on rough terrain, they're perfect for navigating places like this."
"That is wonderful to hear. A Curse Specialist does more than just break curses; we also manage Miasma Land. However, even if we suppress the miasma with periodic purification, people usually flee the surrounding area. It’s not uncommon for the roads leading to the blighted lands to fall into total ruin."
According to him, the damage from the miasma would spread if left unmanaged. Therefore, they had no choice but to venture out, no matter how treacherous the path.
"Curse Magic often requires specialized tools and extensive preparation, and those tools must be hauled to the site. It would be a great help if we could enlist a Space Mage, but they are in high demand. Usually, we travel by carriage or on foot. A single location only requires inspection a few times a year, but... I once had to take over the responsibilities of three people at once due to a string of retirements. I don't even want to remember the year I spent before reinforcements arrived. It’s because I have that experience that I truly appreciate the value of these slimes."
"...It's a job that requires more physical stamina than I realized," I remarked.
I had suspected as much after our last conversation, but the Curse Specialist industry really did have the faint scent of an exploitative workplace. I was interested in Curse Magic, and I wanted to study how to deal with Curse Removal and miasma, but if you asked me if I wanted to make a career of it...
Lord Rosenberg must have noticed my hesitation. He offered a wry smile and explained the situation in more detail.
"It is certainly not an easy profession. Curse Specialists are chronically understaffed. If one doesn't manage Miasma Land—or if their assigned area is a mansion in the city—the job doesn't require nearly as much stamina. However, the reality is that it's difficult to pick and choose your tasks. That said, we almost never assign work that clashes with an individual's specific talents. For instance, if someone is skilled at Curse Removal but hopeless at Miasma Removal, there's no point in having them manage blighted land; it would only put them in unnecessary danger. There is a path for those who specialize exclusively in Curse Removal, so there's plenty of work that doesn't involve hiking through the wilderness."
Of course, that path apparently had its own drawbacks. A Curse Removal specialist might be cooped up in a workshop all day, or they might have to manage difficult clients with the same bedside manner required of a doctor. It was all a matter of pros and cons—identifying one's own traits and deciding on a career path based on those criteria.
"If I were to work as a Curse Specialist in the future," I mused, "it seems I'd be better suited for managing lands like this experiment ground. I have confidence in my stamina, I have my slimes, and I can use Space Magic, so travel isn't much of a burden. Conversely, the delicate interpersonal care required for clients suffering from curses might be beyond me..."
"That is a struggle even for veteran Curse Specialists. You should focus on what you are capable of and what you enjoy. As I mentioned, we are in short supply. If someone has the drive to proactively manage labor-intensive lands, many in the field would be eager to support them. Furthermore, I've heard you devised a spell to dispel miasma on your own. With that much talent, you will be welcomed anywhere."
"I'm honored to be evaluated so highly by a professional. I'll work even harder, so I look forward to your guidance."
Rosenberg nodded, then changed the subject as if suddenly remembering something. "Before we begin specific instruction, I was told you have already mastered the basics of casting and breaking curses. Is that correct?"
"I'm not sure if I'd say I've 'mastered' it, but I was taught by Remily Cremis. I learned how to cast curses and perform Curse Removal using Light Magic's Dispel. I also succeeded in using Dark Attribute Anti-Curse to protect myself. Remily actually mentioned that, in terms of aptitude, the Dark Attribute is far more suitable for me."
"In that case... I will verify your skills later, but it seems I won't have much to teach you regarding the spells themselves."
The origin of Curse Magic was said to be the result of runaway negative emotions reacting to the magic power within the body. Because of this, original Curse Magic had no fixed form or category. However, that made it difficult to pass the techniques down. Modern Curse Magic was a systematized version created to efficiently teach formless curses and their countermeasures to disciples.
"For example, to change the symptoms of a curse, one uses a different mental image, but the method of casting remains the same. Most methods for Curse Removal and miasma management are based on a spell called Curse Transfer. The rituals and tools we use are primarily to help construct a solid mental image and maximize the effect. If you've gone so far as to create your own unique spells, your aptitude is more than sufficient. Even if the order in which you learned things is a mess, it would be a waste to stifle your strengths by forcing you into a rigid mold. I intend to focus on supplementing your foundational knowledge through practical application and discussion. How does that sound?"
"I would very much appreciate that. I've always felt exactly the same way. I'm sure I'll ask some very basic or even strange questions, so please bear with me."
"Understood. For the record, my specialties are Miasma Land management and Curse Removal. Specifically, I excel at 'investigating causes,' such as tracking the source of miasma or identifying the person who cast a curse. That said, my experience as an instructor isn't particularly vast. I've taught before, but I'm not a professional educator at an institution. If you have any doubts, even trivial ones, please don't hesitate to ask."
Lord Rosenberg claimed he wasn't an expert in education, but for me—having come from a past life where the standard was "Watch and figure it out yourself!"—getting formal training was a luxury. The fact that he invited questions and was willing to answer them was more than enough.
"I understand. Actually, a question has already occurred to me. I know my learning path has been unconventional, but how do people normally train to become Curse Specialists? I'd like to know for my own reference."
"There are two main paths. One is an apprenticeship under a working Curse Specialist. The other is studying at a specialized educational institution. Apprenticeship involves a master-disciple relationship where you learn while working as an assistant. This used to be the mainstream method, but Curse Magic training was often tied to a family's lifestyle. Unless you were part of that lineage, getting an apprenticeship—and actually mastering the craft—was extremely difficult."
"Since you said it 'used to be' the mainstream, I take it the schools are the primary path now?"
"Exactly. Apprenticeships tended to be secretive and insular. Beyond limiting who could learn, it often hindered the transmission of techniques, and many were lost entirely. There was also the social stigma; apprentices were often viewed with suspicion or persecuted. To solve these issues, the House Cashel, a prestigious family of Curse Specialists, established specialized educational institutions which they still manage today."
House Cashel, I learned, was an elite family of Curse Specialists employed by the Royal House and granted special authority. To cultivate the next generation, they actively recruited talented individuals and accepted applicants. They also supported the industry through research and development of new tools, protecting declining lineages, job placement, and even matchmaking services.
Lord Rosenberg’s family was a branch of House Cashel, so he admitted he might be slightly biased, but even so, it made me feel like the Curse Specialist industry might not be as soul-crushing as I’d feared. Yet, at the same time, I found myself wondering if it was too good to be true.
"Forgive me, but is it one of those situations where the system exists on paper, but it’s actually impossible to use?"
"Not at all. You must pass an exam to prove your ability, register on the official roster, perform a certain amount of work periodically, and keep your location known. There are other minor conditions, but for anyone intending to work honestly as a Curse Specialist, none of it is a hurdle. I understand your skepticism regarding the benefits, but please understand that we are desperate to increase our numbers. A curse is something anyone can cast unconsciously. They are overwhelmingly more numerous than we are. If the world falls into chaos due to war or disaster, the damage will spike. We must counter those curses. If we don't steadily improve the situation, the system will eventually collapse. We believe that protecting current specialists and training the next generation is an urgent necessity to prevent that future."
His words were quiet, but I could feel his passion for fixing the industry's labor shortage. I didn't know much about Curse Specialists yet, but was this a common goal for everyone in the field?
If so... if they were all working together toward a better future, then being a little busy might not be so bad. And yet, the memories of my old workplace kept bubbling up in the back of my mind.
My body continued its quiet ascent up the mountain, while my brain remained locked in a struggle between genuine interest and traumatic memories.