■ Sister! □
Making bricks for the castle wall wasn’t particularly difficult.
It was just a matter of mixing fine soil created by magic with straw, shaping it into a brick form, and drying it well.
Like children making mud cookies, we would roll the mud mixed with straw every which way using wind magic to shape it into rectangles, then use the spell “Whirlwind Flame” to rapidly dry it.
Because of the cold weather in the perpetually frozen Vulcan Mountain range, it was impossible to make bricks without a mage.
Originally, we would have had to either import expensive bricks from elsewhere or temporarily use roughly hewn rocks as bricks.
There was a reason why Eva came to find me first when she said she wanted to repair the castle walls.
“Huff-”
After wiping the sweat that had gathered on my forehead, I looked around.
I don’t know how, but news of my bet with Dorothea had spread, and soldiers had gathered to watch us make bricks.
I seriously considered whether this was really something worth hundreds of people watching, but upon reflection, realized this place lacked entertainment options.
There were no famous bards giving morale-boosting performances, no traveling gypsies stopping by, and certainly no red-light districts where one could embrace a woman.
Even though they received regular paychecks, there wasn’t much to spend money on, so most soldiers either sent money home to their families or used it as betting stakes during gambling games among themselves.
In such a situation, two mages of the 5th rank or above going head-to-head?
Even I would rush out of the barracks to see.
‘Given this situation, losing outright will be tough.’
It might be manageable if there were only a few observers, but with so many eyes watching, the pressure inevitably increased.
To convincingly lose dramatically, I would at least need to appear competitive until midway through.
I subtly glanced over at Dorothea to see what she was doing.
“Pandemonium Krise!”
She was extravagantly using the mana she had conserved last night while actively employing her specialty, fire magic.
‘She’s serious.’
Does anyone usually use 5th rank magic for such trivial tasks?
Dorothea, with her competitive spirit fully ignited, was nothing short of a runaway locomotive.
From the start, she shaped the bricks into large blocks and applied superheated post-processing, creating hard bricks akin to baked pottery.
‘…Why is plasma cutting involved here?’
As someone who specializes in wind magic, her production method was not something I could easily replicate.
At first, it seemed like we were neck-and-neck, but as the middle phase approached, a natural gap began to widen.
At this point, I instinctively knew I was going to lose the bet. Not that I was putting in much effort anyway, but I decided to completely ease off and proceed with making the bricks.
When the agreed-upon hour was up, the winner of the contest was decided.
Eva, who had volunteered to act as the judge, alternately looked at the piles of bricks we had stacked on the ground, chuckled, and raised her hand in favor of Dorothea.
“312 versus 527—Victory to Lady Dorothea!”
“Yay!!”
The moment her victory was confirmed, Dorothea jumped around in celebration, clearly thrilled.
The soldiers who had been watching the brick-making competition cheered for her.
Their applause didn’t seem like flattery to curry favor with their commander; it was genuine, showing how much the soldiers here liked Dorothea.
While Eva gained popularity through kindness and virtue, Dorothea’s charm stemmed from her cute appearance, reminding everyone of the younger sisters or daughters they left behind in their hometowns.
Is this what they mean by “post-military high school girls”?
Shaking the dirt off my hands, I approached Dorothea.
“Commander, congratulations.”
Saying that, I extended my right hand. After staring at my extended hand for a moment, Dorothea smiled like a cat and grinned mischievously.
“Oh, you should call me ‘sister.'”
Though her annoying face irritated me, since we had an agreement, I calmly smiled back.
“Yes, sister.”
Upon hearing this, Dorothea’s smile deepened.
“That’s right! It can’t be helped that your magical skills are worse than mine, little brother! Don’t worry—I’ll understand!”
As she said this, she playfully tapped my shoulder, which was surprisingly frustrating.
‘I should’ve tried harder knowing this would happen.’
Regretting it now was pointless since the bus had already passed.
While I silently seethed with a vague sense of humiliation, Dorothea happily turned to the surrounding soldiers.
“Hey guys! Let’s celebrate! Eat and drink to your heart’s content tonight! I give you permission!”
“Woohoo!”
“Commander, you’re the best!”
“Dorothea! Dorothea!”
Unmindful of my presence, she was quickly surrounded by hundreds of cheering soldiers all shouting her name.
Realizing I had been thoroughly overshadowed, I sighed deeply and turned to Camilla, who had been standing quietly in the shadows.
“Let’s go back.”
Camilla nodded slightly.
“It seems like a wise decision.”
Leaving behind the scene where the entire unit seemed to have become Dorothea’s fan club, I decided to return to my quarters to rest.
[[#]] When casting spells, two types of mana are generally used:
External mana and internal mana.
Depending on the breathing techniques one has mastered, efficiency varies, but even the greatest mage cannot infinitely cast spells because once internal mana is expended, it doesn’t recover instantly.
In my case, if expressed in specific numbers,
I could cast 6th-tier spells three times, 5th-tier spells ten times, and 4th-tier spells thirty times.
Of course, these numbers aren’t absolute.
In the case of spells utilizing ether—an element highly compressed from mana—they are more powerful but consume about three times the mana compared to typical elemental magic. In my case, after using Fat Man once, I would be drained and need several hours of rest.
Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because I’m suffering from severe mana depletion after my bet with Dorothea.
No matter how great a mage I am, there are limits unless I have an infinite supply of mana. And since I wasn’t carrying a battery pack yesterday, it would take a few hours for my mana to fully recover.
A common symptom of mana depletion is lethargy.
The weakness and strange sensation of powerlessness never feel good whenever I experience it.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. This happened a lot in the past.”
Steel becomes stronger the more it is hammered, they say. I was heavily overworked by my master back then.
I wonder what she’s doing now, but I doubt that cranky old woman has passed away just because she’s been absent for barely a year.
If she found out her only disciple joined the Demon King’s Army, she’d probably send a smack to my back first thing.
With Camilla’s support, I entered my quarters and felt relieved.
“I’ll rest here until dinner.”
“Alright.”
Somewhere along the way, I naturally started speaking casually with her, but since Camilla hasn’t pointed it out, I’ve been addressing her comfortably.
But upon reflection, she might find it uncomfortable, so I casually asked her.
“By the way, how old are you, Camilla?”
Camilla tilted her head as if unsure of the intent behind my question but soon replied calmly.
“Thirty-five.”
“…”
Eight years older than me, who is twenty-seven.
Although demons typically live 1.5 times longer than humans on average, those extra years lived don’t just disappear.
I naturally asked her, observing her expression.
“Does it bother you when I speak casually?”
Camilla shook her head.
“I am a maid. On the contrary, it’s more uncomfortable to hear polite language from the person I serve. So please continue to address me casually.”
“That’s a relief…”
As I internally sighed in relief and calmed my racing heart, Camilla suddenly spoke up.
“If it’s not too much trouble, could you call me ‘sister’ once?”
“…Suddenly?”
“If it bothers you, you don’t have to. It’s just a personal wish.”
“No, no. It’s not that hard.”
Saying that, I stopped Camilla from bowing and cleared my throat, but when it came time to say it, I felt oddly embarrassed.
Compared to how effortlessly I called Dorothea “sister,” calling someone “sister” sincerely felt strangely difficult.
Perhaps there’s a difference between saying it jokingly and saying it earnestly.
Since I’ve reached this age, I haven’t had the occasion to call anyone “sister.”
Struggling to form the words, I finally managed to whisper faintly.
“…Sister.”
Then Camilla stepped closer and requested again, slightly closer than usual.
“Say it one more time. I couldn’t hear it properly.”
“…Sister?”
At that, Camilla wore an oddly satisfied expression and murmured.
“It’s quite a curious feeling. Being called ‘sister’ by someone.”
“Still, I don’t think there’s a need to attach so much meaning to it.”
“I’m an only child.”
Saying that, Camilla glanced at me sitting on the bed before returning to her original position.
“But shouldn’t we move on to the next lesson soon?”
Caught off guard by Camilla’s unexpected request, I involuntarily stiffened my expression.
“Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
Saying that, Camilla slightly lifted the hem of her skirt with both hands.
“I got excited because Lord Caldlasth called me ‘sister.'”
A transparent liquid trickled down her thigh as it was revealed.
