Early morning, I was in the front room munching on bread with my family and Sylvia.

"Sister Viiiiii! Waaah! Yuan eiei ah!"
"Emiiilyyyy! Yoyoyoyoyoyoyo ah!"

Even though she seemed weak and ill last night, the spirit was now completely restored to her energetic self, humoring Emily who was clinging to her side and spouting nonsense.

Frankly, I'd love to watch a bit longer. But I can't. I have important business today.

Silently, I leave my seat, pick up my backpack to leave, only to have my wrist grabbed again.

This time, it's Emily.

Am I some kind of public handle?

She says, "Brother, Sister Vi just woke up. Won't you stay with her for a bit? There are still herbs left at home."

As my sister speaks, Sylvia theatrically rests her chin in her hands, looking at me with the pitiful expression of an abandoned puppy.

Damn it, even knowing it's an act, she's still so cute.

"I'm not going to gather herbs. Mr. Wilson needs me for something. I'm going to the watchtower to see him."
"In that case, there's no helping it. Go ahead and let your sister be the shopkeeper while you go have fun with a man."
"Yeah, yeah."

I give a noncommittal reply and walk away. As I step out the door, Emily adds, "Don't get hurt again!"
"I'll try."

I'm resolved to grow stronger, which will likely involve getting hurt unavoidably.

Little sister, wish me luck.

By the way, Sylvia seemed to be mumbling something to Emily.

In the morning, I arrive at the old watchtower.

Today isn't an open reception day. The barrier is closed, a vivid red bud tightly closed at the tower's peak.

Mr. Wilson has already repaired the damage from the last attack. But the ground scorched by the pillar of fire remains bare, of course, forming a stark contrast with the surrounding grass. I wonder if it will grow back by spring.

I walk to the tower's base and knock on the wooden door. It opens. Wilson is kneeling in the center of the first-floor platform.

He has casually pushed all exhibits other than ancient books into a corner of the tower.

Now, the floor is covered like a lawn with large sheets of crumpled manuscript paper and opened books, old and new. And Wilson is crawling through this "lawn," scribbling on the paper. So childlike.

Ah, not scribbling—writing very sloppy characters.

I say, "Mr. Wilson. I heard you've located the second eyeball?"

That was the reason he called me here. On the day of the demon attack, he gave me a crystal ball for remote communication, saying there were only two left in the world and I should treasure it.

Wilson stands up from the floor, stepping on and tearing the sheet he just wrote on.

"Welcome. Be careful coming over. Don't use any attack-related runes, or you'll trigger the traps."

He seems to have added many detection and defense mechanisms, significantly strengthening security.

"Um, you're standing right in the middle of the papers. I'll step on them."

Wilson smiles proudly. "Making drafts is mainly because writing aids thinking, not because I actually need to record anything. Remember that."

So, I mercilessly step on and crush as many papers as possible on my way over.

Wilson says, "I reanalyzed the notes, examined the peculiar mana intrinsic to the red eyeball itself, activated anomaly rune detection points set up around town, and then—"
"That's long. Please get to the point."

Wilson looks rather crestfallen, lowering his eyelids. Please stop pretending to be pitiful.

"It seems to be in the abandoned Starshine Mine."

A few years ago, there was a Starshine mine in the forest.

But the mining activity affected the seal on the magical beasts in the forest, causing several to escape. It apparently took great effort to resolve afterwards.

Since then, the mine has been shut down.

An abandoned underground mine. I hope it doesn't collapse.

"I know its location. When do we leave?"
"I need to prepare for a while—survey the terrain and magical beasts, prepare potions, holy water, and such. That place has very dense mana; it seems to have turned into a wild dungeon. Better to be cautious... Oh, don't worry. I don't plan to have you go down the mine shaft."

"Then did you call me here just to chat?"

I gave up time with Sylvia for this.

"It's about the map. The mine was opened by the Goldflame family. They should have the internal structure maps, and of course, the ownership rights.

"I need to continue analyzing the notes here in the tower, searching for the stolen first eyeball, the yet-to-be-found third one, and the hiding places of Nekros and her current contractor.

"So, I need you to go to them and get it."
"Okay. Also, I am going down the mine shaft."
"...Why?"
"Vanity."

Wilson smiles helplessly. "Adam, you've learned a lot of theoretical knowledge from me, and your potion-making is quite commendable, but you're not familiar with combat.

"If there are only magical beasts in the mine, I can still ensure your safety. But there's also a significant chance Nekros is present. That would be a different story."
"Indeed. Last time, if I hadn't been there, you would have been in a different story."

"Your attitude towards me lately really... Never mind. Are you sure you've thought this through? You really want to go down the shaft?"

Sorry, I am trying, attempting to show more respect, but it's genuinely a bit difficult.

It's not because he gets drunk and acts foolish, or because Sylvia likes him.

The main reason is, although this person is a top-tier powerhouse, lately he occasionally exudes a somewhat... useless aura, making me feel a sense of camaraderie. Beyond that, I always feel he helps me so much also because he sees me as a comrade.

I say seriously, "Yes."
"...Alright. But I have conditions. You must undergo practical combat training before going down the shaft. It will be tough, you know?"

I bow deeply to him. "That would be best. I'm in your care, Teacher."
"Now that's more like it. But to my shame, my innate mana and number of runes are several times yours. I don't understand how to fight under your constraints."
"Please, no need for modesty. You've been through so many battles. You must have experience being at a disadvantage, right?"
"Of course. In those times, I'd use fire walls and ice barriers to surround myself and lay low, waiting for my companions to turn the tide. I'm a theorist at heart, after all."

My benefactor and mentor is more useless than I imagined.

Wilson returns to the main topic. "Have you heard of the Goldflame family's Obsidian Mage Corps?"
"Yes. They're the ones who sealed the previous beast tide. How could I forget?"

Wilson pulls the king's medal from his trouser pocket and tosses it to me.

Ugh, it's still dirty, and the ribbon is broken. I'll wash it for him when I return it.

"They've recently been recruiting young mages to form a second corps. You can try out if someone recommends you. I'll be your recommender. Go train with them for a few days. This medal serves as proof."
"Thank you!"
"But don't stand me up for training just because it's fun. Go now while it's still early. I need to continue my research too."

I nod and am about to leave when I remember something I haven't mentioned.
"I told my spirit about the ritual and Nekros."
"Huh? That lovely lady with white hair and blue eyes? It's hard to resist... Wait, why?"
"Because she is trustworthy. You'll understand if you talk to her."
"Sigh, what's done is done. By the way, I still don't know her name. What is it?"
"I don't know. Ask her yourself."
"You say she's trustworthy without even knowing her name? Whatever. She's already here anyway. I'll talk to her myself."

Wilson wears a rather annoying smile.

As I'm puzzling over this, I hear the watchtower door open again. Sylvia walks in.

"Good morning, both of you."

Wilson says, "Hello! We were just talking about you. Come over. Hey, Adam, shouldn't you be off to Goldflame to take care of business?"

No... What is this? Why? Wait, could it be...?

While I'm stunned, Sylvia walks past me, goes to Gray's side, and smiles at me.
"Is that so? Please be careful and do your best. Mr. Gray and I will wait here for your good news."

Ugh...

"You two... enjoy your chat."

Clenching my teeth, I leave these words behind and flee the watchtower as if escaping.