Ingo had explained the fundamentals, as well as given me a demonstration. All that was left was to try it myself—but that proved more difficult than I’d anticipated.
“Infusing one’s blood with mana sounds simple in theory,” I muttered, concentrating on the crimson droplet on my index finger. “I hadn’t expected it to be this much of a struggle.”
“Well, you’ve managed it,” Ingo said. “Looks like your alchemy experience came in handy. It usually takes months—even years—to get the hang of it. I took about a year, myself. All just to achieve this simple step.”
“Like you said, my alchemy’s given me an advantage,” I acknowledged. “I’ve used similar techniques before. But maintaining the amount of mana—as well as its potency and density within the blood—at a fixed level is quite the task.”
Indeed, the act of infusing my blood with mana was something I was familiar with. In fact, one could even call it easy for me. However, Ingo’s taming technique demanded a freakish amount of precision. I hadn’t fully appreciated the degree of control he’d been exhibiting earlier—he’d made it look so casual. Meanwhile, I could barely manage it at all, despite his detailed instructions.
It was incredible that he could repeat the process and produce a consistent, mana-infused blood sample each time, with no deviations. While talent had to play a part, I knew it primarily required a degree of stubborn repetition that bordered on ludicrous.
However, I didn’t have the time for that. I was all right with dedicating a decent chunk of my remaining lifespan toward learning the technique, but I wasn’t the only part of this equation. Ingo was the village’s mayor, and he no doubt had much business to attend to on the daily. Even if I made regular trips to Hathara, I couldn’t possibly justify monopolizing so much of his time.
Given that, I needed to master this technique as quickly as possible.
“Well, you can leave it there for today,” Ingo said, clearly recognizing that I was making little progress. “You don’t need to perfect it in one sitting.”
“You don’t think that will be a problem?” I asked. I had assumed that overcoming this hurdle was the requirement to tame my first monster.
Ingo shook his head. “Your control is already good enough to tame a slime. It’s not perfect, so you’ll be in for a little more work after the fact, but finer control is only necessary for higher orders of monster.”
“I see. In that case, may we move on to the next step? I’ll practice the mana infusion in my own time.”
“Usually when a student says that, it’s cause for suspicion, but I don’t think I need to worry about you slacking off. Actually, I’m a little concerned that you might overdo it.”
“I...” I trailed off. He wasn’t wrong. I knew myself well enough to realize that once I returned to Maalt, I could very well pull a string of all-nighters until I’d mastered it to my satisfaction. Ingo hadn’t known me for very long, but it seemed he’d already gained a decent understanding of my personality.
He smiled ruefully. “I suppose I can leave that to Rentt, though. I’ll tell him to make sure you get enough rest and don’t overwork yourself.”
“I doubt you’ll even need to ask,” I said. “He does that for me all the time anyway.”
“Does he now? I’m surprised. He tends to keep people at a distance.”
“Is that so?”
“He’s friendly and polite with everyone, of course, but also finds it difficult to bridge that final gap,” Ingo explained. “People sense that, so they treat him the same way. It’s not something you’d notice unless you watched him closely.”
I couldn’t argue with that—in fact, I’d felt it myself in the past. It wasn’t ordinarily an issue, but when it came to certain topics, such as his goal of becoming a Mithril-class adventurer, it took a lot to get him to open up. In fact, you could definitely interpret it as active rejection. No matter what anyone else might say, once he’d made up his mind, he’d devote himself to his goal with single-minded purpose.
That was the kind of man Rentt Faina was.
“I know,” I said, nodding at Ingo’s words. “But...”
“Yes?”
“It’s not like that with me. He doesn’t hesitate to step in or speak his mind.”
Ingo’s expression grew relieved. “Sounds like he found himself a wonderful partner in Maalt. Take good care of my son, will you, Lorraine?”
I dwelled on that for a moment, wondering if he’d meant anything deeper by it, but there was only one answer I could give. “Of course,” I said. “I consider Rentt to be a wonderful partner myself.”