Chapter 2

“Y-you cannot fool me,” said Yuui, shaking her head. “Apprentice or not, you are involved with Munzil’s store, yes?” “That’s right.” “S-so you finally admit it. Now I won’t let you get away.” “I said as much from the beginning. No one’s running here,” Ix deadpanned. He met Yuui’s glare with a blank expression. “All right, what business do you have with someone connected to Munzil?” he asked. “I-if you’d only been honest with me from the start…” “I get it. Tell me what you want.” “Urgh… You better not regret asking.” She slid a hand into her coat and brought out a wand. “Fix this!” “I can’t.” “Huh, w-wait, at least take a moment to consider…” “I told you before, I’m not a craftsman. It’s a crime for a noncraftsman to do business. Even just a repair,” he said carefully, staring at the wand. Technically, a wandmaker worked with both wands and staffs. Staffs were about as tall as a person, while wands tended to be the length of your elbow to your fingertips. They were otherwise the same, though the length affected their durability and spell output rate. The longer the staff, the more durable it was. On the other hand, the wand Yuui had pulled out was a standard type. Those excelled at quick spellcasting. There was a common saying about when to use a wand versus when to use a staff: Wands for person against person, staffs for army against army. There was also a joking rhyme that went along with it: Use a wand once a day, then throw away. Use a staff every day, for it will always obey. Regardless, the wand Yuui held was a masterpiece like none Ix had ever seen. The wood was most likely five-hundred-year-old nueb. It was nearly black in hue, discolored from significant use. An antique. Despite its age, the wand’s smooth form barely showed any signs of warping. In terms of value, Ix figured a minor noble would be able to purchase it only if they sold everything they owned. “Did Munzil make that wand?” he asked. “Y-yes. Do you recognize it?” “No, I’ve never seen it. Must have been from before my time.” “You say that like you remember every wand he’s made since then.” “I do.” “Wha…?” She stared at Ix, her eyebrows furrowed. While any wand was hard to come by, it was almost impossible for citizens of the kingdom to get their hands on ones his teacher had made. So why did this girl have one…? Even if this area was pretty close to a major city, it was also very strange for someone from the east to travel all the way out to the kingdom’s mountains. “Wh-what?!” Yuui cried out when she noticed Ix eyeing her suspiciously. “Anyway, don’t think I’ll let you get away if you try to flee,” she asserted. “I have a contract.” “A contract?” “Yes. A promise to repair the wand.” “I’m not bound by promises.” “Even if you are not,” said Yuui as she searched in her bag before pulling out an old envelope, “your master is.” “That’s what it says?” “So I’ve been told.” Frowning, Ix snatched the envelope. The seal was definitely Munzil’s. There was no doubt that his teacher wrote this. Inside the envelope was a single small sheet of paper. On the honor of the name of Munzil Alreff, it is declared that any maintenance on this wand (engraved number: 8305, Smooth) shall be completed once without fee, if requested within the following three hundred years. Furthermore, it will be guaranteed that if this should occur after the death of Munzil, this contract will be fulfilled by one of his craftsman apprentices. To the first one reading this, that would be you, you simpleton. Do not dare to ever touch a wand again if you abandon this task. It looked as though Ix’s teacher had returned surprisingly quickly as something far heavier, bigger, and, most important, more bothersome than dust.