The following morning.
I woke up early to prepare breakfast. One by one, the people we had rescued the previous day began to stir. From our morning greetings and brief exchanges, it seemed everyone had managed to sleep soundly.
Though they were safe now, they had stared death in the face during the monster attack. The guards were accustomed to such things, but for the civilians, I wouldn't have been surprised if the experience had left them traumatized. I had been somewhat concerned that psychological symptoms might manifest once the initial adrenaline wore off, but...
"Seconds, please!"
"Coming right up! Eat as much as you like."
The young daughter of the dyers was digging in with gusto, so it seemed my worries were misplaced. Jasper looked the most haggard of the group, yet there was a look of profound satisfaction on his face. That was likely just the result of a sleepless night spent writing.
"Would you like some eggs and bacon as well, Jasper?"
"Thank you... I’ll have some..."
"There you go. Were you able to produce a good article?"
"Indeed! Thanks to you, I’ve written a piece into which I’ve poured my very soul."
Jasper and I had spoken at length last night for his interview. Naturally, I kept the conversation within the bounds of what was safe to publicize. He had been primarily focused on verifying the rumors he had gathered beforehand, so most of it was just me providing a bit of context for the "gossip from the neighborhood greengrocer’s wife" that Yudum had mentioned.
"Especially regarding the Ogalite you described—if that becomes a standard fuel source, it will provide much-needed options for the winter. Speaking as a commoner myself, the prospect of an affordable fuel source is incredibly heartening."
"I'm glad to hear it."
"Oh, it's no mere flattery. In my line of work, I hear a great deal of talk. It seems the hardships of last year are still fresh in the minds of people in every city I visit. Throughout this journey, I’ve heard countless voices expressing anxiety about the coming winter. Seeing a nobleman and a technician working in tandem to alleviate the concerns of the people... I feel your spirit truly embodies the essence of the nobility. I find it deeply admirable."
"I... I see."
The interview itself hadn't left a bad taste in my mouth, so I had shared the details about Ogalite as a little something extra. In truth, it was more beneficial for us to have that information publicized, but the man had been speaking in this high-flown manner ever since.
I didn't sense any mockery or ill intent, but his habit of showering me with such grand praise reminded me of Prenance from the Semroid Troupe. That man was a traveling bard, while Jasper was a reporter; perhaps their professions shared a certain theatrical flair.
As we chatted, time passed peacefully. Once everyone’s preparations were finished, we prepared to head toward the Town of Gaunago.
"First a night’s lodging and a meal, and now an escort to the city... we are truly in your debt for everything," the elderly coachman said, looking quite overwhelmed with gratitude.
As he hitched Yudum’s horse to the carriage to replace the one lost yesterday, he seemed worried that they were interfering with our work. However, this trip was essentially a field survey for me. I could return whenever I liked using Space Magic, and the logging wasn't a matter of extreme urgency. Since I had an appointment with Oresto in Gaunago tomorrow, I had already intended to return to the city today regardless.
"We were planning to head back anyway, and it's only right to help each other in times of need. Besides, look over there. The trees that were scattered about yesterday have already been cleared, haven't they?"
"Indeed they have..."
The trees felled yesterday had already been processed into logs. Half of them were safely stowed inside my Dimension Home, while the rest were neatly stacked in the clearing. I would return for them later, but with Barrier Magic and Cursed Rope protecting the perimeter, I didn't have to worry about thieves.
"Don't trouble yourself over it. Everyone survived, and that's what matters. It looks like everyone is ready, so let's get moving."
"You're right. Let us depart."
We joined the other passengers in the repaired carriage and set off. While taking everyone via Space Magic would have been faster, there was no reason to rush.
I was also hesitant to bring people who had just escaped a brush with death into my Dimension Home, where my tamed monsters and the carcass of the spider monster from yesterday were stored. Taking the slow route back was the right choice for today.
A few hours later.
Yesterday's monster encounter must have been a fluke. Not a single monster crossed our path on the way back, and we arrived at the gates of Gaunago without incident. After a brief report on the previous day's trouble, we were ushered into the city.
"Goodbye, big brothers!"
"Bye!"
"Take care!"
The guild where the coachman and the guards were headed happened to be in the same direction as the house of the dyers' relatives. As the carriage rolled away, the young girl waved energetically from the rear, and we waved back until they were out of sight. Every meeting eventually leads to a parting; it was a fleeting connection.
"Well then, I shall take my leave as well. I need to find a place to stay for the night."
"I see. If you're looking for an inn in this city, I'd recommend one called 'I Love Horses.' The name and the decor are a bit eccentric, but the rooms and the service were excellent."
"You've been helpful to the last. Thank you truly. My next steps depend on my new supervisor's orders, but if I continue my work here, I hope I might request another interview with you someday, Master Takebayashi. I look forward to our next meeting."
"Understood. Take care of yourself until then."
Jasper offered his thanks once more and departed. If fate willed it, our paths would surely cross again.
Now then, it was time for us to get back to business.
"Welcome back, Master Ryoma."
"We've returned, Arone. We'll be in your care again."
We headed straight for the ducal residence, but as soon as we arrived, Arone informed me that Lord Rosenberg—my mentor in curse magic—wished to see me. Apparently, he wanted to meet "as soon as humanly possible."
"He seems to be in quite a hurry."
"Yes. I don't know the full details, but it seems an urgent request for aid arrived from the curse specialists' mutual aid society to which Lord Rosenberg belongs. He had only just returned from his duties managing the miasma lands yesterday at noon, but the moment he read the letters waiting for him, he began preparing to leave again. He must depart by early tomorrow morning and was hoping to speak with you once before then."
"I understand. I have nothing urgent on my plate for the rest of the day, so I'm available whenever. Please let him know I can see him at his convenience."
"As you wish."
Arone left the room quietly. Ten minutes later, a weary-looking Lord Rosenberg came to call.
"Ryoma, I apologize for descending upon you so suddenly."
"Think nothing of it. Given your haste, I assume there's a serious reason for it."
I gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. I wanted to hear the story while Arone prepared the tea.
"Yes... To be blunt, a rather monumental headache has landed in the laps of the curse specialist community. To get straight to the point, I'd like you to make as many of those curse-protection misangas as you possibly can. I don't know the exact requirement yet, so simply produce them in bulk—the more the better. I will, of course, pay for every finished piece."
"I can do that. You're the one who taught me the craft, and it's not a difficult task, so I'm happy to help. But has some particularly nasty cursed object been discovered?"
If he was asking for those specific misangas, that was the only logical conclusion. Perhaps something on the level of the Curse of the Demon King had surfaced.
"Indeed. And in staggering quantities. Ryoma, are you aware that there has been a flurry of successions among the noble houses since last year?"
"I think I heard something about it recently. A new lord who wasn't the original heir caused some sort of trouble, right?"
"The individual in this case is actually quite diligent... but let me explain from the beginning."
According to Lord Rosenberg, the noble family in question had a head of the house five generations ago who was an exceptionally talented curse specialist. During his life—and especially in his retirement—he had dedicated himself to collecting cursed objects from across the land, managing the ones he couldn't personally purify.
However, he was only human. When he passed away, his son—the lord four generations ago—succeeded him. Unfortunately, the son possessed none of his father's talent for hexology. Consequently, the stockpile of cursed items he couldn't cleanse began to grow.
By the time the next generation took over, they could only manage the bare minimum. They eventually built an isolation facility far from any towns or villages to quarantine the items. The real trouble, however, began with the generation after that.
"The lord two generations ago apparently decided the situation was beyond his control and simply abandoned the facility and the cursed items entirely. To make matters worse, he fabricated records to suggest they had been properly disposed of to hide his negligence. He used his authority to declare the area off-limits, destroyed all related documents in the manor, and failed to pass any information down to his successor. It was only when the new lord took over and conducted a thorough investigation of the territory's assets that the facility and its horrific state were discovered. They found diaries from the heads of the house spanning four generations inside, detailing their struggles."
"If you leave different cursed objects together without proper treatment, they can bleed into each other and cause unpredictable reactions. That's incredibly dangerous."
"Precisely. These items have been left unmanaged for decades. The original containment spells have failed, and the building and containers have succumbed to rot and weathering. The letter from the House of Cashel described it as a chaotic jumble of concentrated malice."
The House of Cashel was a prestigious ducal family of curse specialists that oversaw the training and support of practitioners. It had been decided that they would lead the containment effort. Lord Rosenberg had been summoned to assist with the field investigation and would be joining them shortly.
"With a disaster on this scale, we need significant manpower to clear roads and transport supplies, which means non-specialists will have to be involved. We can't let them work without protection, which would normally mean we specialists would have to enchant every worker individually. If we have your misangas, it will drastically reduce the burden on us."
That made perfect sense. While there were plenty of others who could create protective talismans, I was the perfect person for mass production. My version used simple materials and a straightforward enchantment.
"The costs will be billed to the House of Cashel as expenses, so please produce as many as you can without worry. Do you have any in stock?"
"As it happens, I have 200 enchanted ones ready to go. I also have about 1,000 blank ones waiting for the spell."
"Oh! That's far more than I had hoped for."
"I only just recently finalized the production system. Besides, I had my first formal request as a curse specialist lately, so I'd been building a stockpile for the future."
The children at the church had been incredibly diligent with the order I placed; they had finished a massive batch while I was in the Sea of Trees. It wasn't a difficult task, and they had picked it up quickly. Every piece was well-made.
Furthermore, during my time in the Sea of Trees, I had mastered a way to apply the same enchantment to multiple items simultaneously while making food for my Curse Slimes. By using a mental image that combined the logic of a syllogism—if A=B and B=C, then A=C—with the concept of a computer's "copy and paste" function, I had made mass production much more efficient.
"To think you've already optimized it to that degree... Very well, I'll take the 200 immediately. If you could finish the rest by tomorrow morning—without overworking yourself, of course—I would be grateful."
"Understood. And just to confirm, it's safe to keep cursed tools together as long as they were made by the same practitioner using the same spell, right?"
"Yes. The danger lies in jumbling different curses together. As long as the practitioner and the spell are identical, there’s no risk of interference."
It was a bit like a device glitching due to radio interference. If I’d been told they needed individual packaging, it would have been a nightmare, but this meant I could just hand him the boxes as they were.
"In that case, I should be able to hand over the entire batch by tomorrow. Don't worry about the payment right now; just settle up for what you actually use at a later date."
"Thank you, Ryoma. Your help is invaluable."
Lord Rosenberg looked as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He let a small smile touch his weary face and bowed deeply before heading off to continue his preparations.
Watching him walk away, his silhouette reminded me so much of my former colleagues back on Earth that I couldn't help but root for him.