110

The next morning, I awoke to find the mansion unusually busy.

There was a great deal of noise—something was clearly being carried in—but I couldn’t tell what it was.

Still, the fact that I was gradually becoming able to distinguish sounds more precisely filled me with a strange sense of progress.

Though, since that progress came from my monster instincts, I couldn’t help feeling a bit conflicted about it.

(If I had to guess, they’re probably bringing in tools meant to destroy my base or something like that…)

Judging by the sound when whatever it was hit the floor, it seemed fairly heavy.

I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity about what exactly they were preparing.

In other words, it had to be some kind of elven weapon—or something equivalent.

There was no doubt it was a magical device, and depending on its power, it could very well pose a threat to me.

It couldn’t possibly be something mundane like a digging machine, and realizing I’d get to witness the extent of elven magical technology gave me a strange sense of excitement.

Thinking about it that way, sacrificing my base might not be such a bad trade.

In any case, departure was scheduled for tomorrow, so I’d have to wait until then.

For today, I would devote my morning to magic training—and prepare myself for another Number Six performance.

But first, breakfast.

The joy of having delicious food prepared without lifting a finger was beyond words.

Until it arrived, I quietly focused on practicing mana control.

I’d realized after a full day of training yesterday that, as long as I didn’t actually expend mana, I could keep going for quite a long time.

That said, the mental fatigue from continuous concentration was real.

So, I planned to do control training for a while, then move on to practical exercises that involved casting, taking short breaks after using a certain amount of mana.

During recovery, normal activity wasn’t a problem, so it was best to handle daily routines during that time.

This time management made me feel a bit like one of those “no-life gamers” I’d seen in news reports—people who organized their entire day around arcade reservation slots.

I hadn’t sunk that far, of course, but the truth was that I was starved for entertainment.

Though training magic gave me a sense of enjoyment, it was undeniably necessary for my growth.

One might ask, “Do you really need to become stronger?” But considering there was still a third numbered one unaccounted for—someone potentially stronger than me—and remembering that “Spirit Sword” I’d seen yesterday, which could probably cleave me in half, the answer was clearly yes.

Still, what I could accomplish with magic was quite limited.

Even so, it remained an area with room for growth, and as a means of surprising opponents, it was perfectly suited to me.

The question was how to use it most effectively.

I still hadn’t found the answer.

The “breathing fire” trick I showed yesterday was basically just that—a trick.

Some monsters already breathed fire, so there was nothing new about it. At best, others would simply think, “Ah, this one breathes fire,” and move on.

But what if I used it differently?

Among humanoid monsters like goblins, there were rare individuals who could use magic.

Yet if I, a creature that looked so distinctly monstrous, were to use magic—it would be utterly unexpected.

From that, I arrived at one guiding principle:

“Use ordinary magic in extraordinary ways.”

Easier said than done.

I was still a novice; coming up with surprising applications wasn’t going to happen overnight.

So for now, I decided to continue practicing and refining, even if the purpose remained unclear for a while.

Since I already had a clear goal, there was no need to rush. I enjoyed my breakfast politely while savoring the uneasy stares of the elven woman nearby.

I hadn’t expected her expression to shift from shock to disgust in just one day.

(You could at least look a little impressed.)

Look at this impeccable table manner.

Never mind that there was no actual table, and that the “utensil” in my hand was a kitchen knife.

It was the sort of scene that would make a police officer pale and ask, “What crime scene is this?”

Since the knife was made for humans, the handle was small, forcing me to concentrate not to break it.

I’d spent a fair bit of time practicing just to handle it properly.

After finishing breakfast, I neatly gathered the dishes onto a tray and carried them back to the mansion myself.

Even if I was technically their guest due to circumstance, I preferred to act with self-reliance and proper manners.

There was still some time before we were to head to the river, so I resumed my magic training.

As I sat cross-legged, hands spread in a meditative pose, I sensed someone approaching.

There was only one elf who ever sought me out.

Sure enough, Number Six appeared before me.

“Our preparations are complete. We’ll be heading to your base now. Are you ready?”

A startled “Gah?” escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

‘Wasn’t that supposed to be tomorrow?’ I wrote.

“Our preparations finished sooner than expected.”

For a moment, I worried that maybe I had eaten too much of their food, but she added, “The men worked hard through the night,” and I imagined the elves laboring diligently to impress her—feeling both reassured and oddly disappointed.

Still, missing today’s Number Six performance was a genuine loss.

“I was looking forward to that,” I muttered, standing up and grabbing my things.

Well, time to witness the elves’ secret early.

And that secret, in a word, was a box.

Each was about the size of a portable clothing trunk—black, heavy, and radiating presence where it sat on the ground.

(Five in total, huh? I really hope they’re not just bombs…)

As a weapon, they were intriguing, but they didn’t exactly match the graceful image I had of elves.

I pointed at one of the boxes, curious to see how it worked.

“Don’t touch that,” an elf warned.

So much for nonverbal communication.

There was no explanation, and soon the elves finished packing the boxes into special backpacks and began walking.

They seemed quite heavy; the carriers were all well-built individuals.

Including armed guards wielding swords and bows, several porters, a few hooded figures who looked like mages, and Number Six herself, the total count came to twenty-four.

When I tried to move ahead and lead the way, I was told my position was at the rear.

“Not worried about being attacked from behind?” I wondered aloud.

Number Six’s calm answer: “We’d have no chance of winning against you anyway.”

Even without a written note, she understood me perfectly. If only the other elves could do the same.

And so, walking slowly to match their pace, we reached the river.

Thinking that, if not for the hardworking men, I might’ve been enjoying a peaceful morning by the water instead, I couldn’t help but glance at them with faint resentment.

The elves used magic to gracefully leap over the river, even with their heavy loads.

I waded through it with splashing steps, joining the back of the group on the other side.

Since this was an area I frequently passed through, monsters rarely approached.

I left vigilance to the elves and continued walking toward the base—training magic along the way.