SIMA 10

SIMA

Chapter 10 ….

The Girl’s Request (1)

Biliph appeared again. His face was pale, and he didn’t look well. He cautiously glanced around before speaking. He said the master had been angry. As expected.

But the reason was slightly different than expected. It wasn’t that Biliph had brought too few herbs, but rather that he had brought too many—and that’s why he was scolded. At first, it made no sense. Lael asked for details.

Biliph sighed and explained.

The master held his disciples in high regard. They were knowledgeable enough to assist with difficult research. For such disciples, failing to even properly gather herbs was unacceptable. That alone would make the master angry.

Then, suddenly, someone else appeared and brought back an abundance of herbs—so much that it made it seem like the disciples had been slacking all along. The master became irritated, called the disciples, and scolded them. That was the story.

It was a detailed explanation—one that didn’t need to be shared.

Biliph told Lael not to bring too many herbs in the future. It seemed he had explained in detail just to make that point clear. Though it left Lael uneasy, she nodded. No one could feel good about a reduced income.

She decided to be careful from now on. Sparks could fly if she wasn’t.

Later, the other disciples appeared. Their expressions were grim. They left the alchemist’s house. As one of them passed the counter, he sneaked a glance at Lael. It was a look of disapproval. The others were probably no different.

Only the girl seemed to escape any real criticism; she glanced slightly as she passed.

Things weren’t good. This had been her first real job opportunity, and she had already messed it up from the start. Thinking about it gave her a headache.

No one liked being inferior to a child. It would be problematic if she earned the disciples’ resentment.

Although the master had intended the scolding as a lesson, it was obvious who the anger would fall on. Being an easy target was a crime.

Biliph spoke again, but Lael barely heard him. She kept her eyes on the ground on the way back.

Though she now had money in hand, her heart felt heavy. Human relationships were even more exhausting.

She arrived at the inn.

She had a meal downstairs and then went upstairs to her room.

Strangely, she was tired. She had never felt this exhausted even after climbing the mountains. Worries about the day’s events made her head throb. She had no mental space left for magic practice.

The next day, she went up the mountain again.

It was different from yesterday. There was a slightly awkward atmosphere. She seemed to understand why—people were looking at her strangely.

Before dispersing to gather herbs, Biliph gave her a cautionary glance. Lael wandered alone through the forest, thinking. If she brought back too many herbs again, it would be the end of her.

She decided to think while walking. No clear solution came to mind—she had no sense of how many herbs would be acceptable.

She regretted not asking Biliph in detail about the allowed quota. Too late now.

She pondered how to handle things smoothly. After using her brain a lot lately, a decent idea finally came to her. Maybe her mind had sharpened a bit.

For now, she gathered a reasonable amount of herbs—about half of what she had collected yesterday.

With a reduced harvest, she had plenty of free time—at least three or four hours.

She considered returning, but rushing back wouldn’t do any good.

She decided to practice magic until sunset.

Slowly, she began forming water droplets. “Droplet” was a generous term—they were larger than a human head. “Water masses” would have been more accurate.

She tried to force them forward, imagining them flying like arrows shot from a crossbow.

As she pushed her hands slowly, the water mass moved forward as well. She aimed at a tree and launched it.

Whoosh.

She approached to inspect.

The tree was wet. The water mass had partially collapsed while keeping its shape. The tree itself was unharmed. This wasn’t right.

The old man had said water magic was far from weak.

He often compared it to blunt weapons.

If the water mass could maintain its form, it would have the power equivalent to a mace. That was when it was launched quickly.

Lael imagined how incredible it would be to wield such power.

But with her strength, it was impossible.

Blunt weapons were heavy.

Even among adults, only those naturally strong could wield them as weapons. Weak adults were still much stronger than a child.

With magic, she could wield such a powerful weapon, and the range was even longer.

The old man had once sent a water mass flying to break a tree from afar. Though she didn’t know precisely, it seemed comparable to a siege battering ram breaking a castle gate.

The problem was, she didn’t yet have that level of capability.

She examined the tree again. It was within ten paces. Not quite sword range, but slightly longer than a spear. Yet she failed.

“Wait.”

She inspected it again. There was a dent in the bark.

Only the bark was scratched. That was enough. It counted as a success. It was barely successful, but there was proof it had reached.

The success lifted her spirits.

She used the Water Ball repeatedly afterward, but failed every time. It was miserable.

Her mental energy was gradually depleted compared to the first attempt. She was still slightly lacking. With more practice, she thought she could eventually make it work.

Even if the range wasn’t as long as a crossbow, she hoped it would be enough. A range between a sword and crossbow would be practical in real combat.

At that moment, she sensed someone nearby.

She didn’t know who had followed her.

She panicked at the thought of being caught practicing magic and didn’t know how to explain it. She looked toward the sound but saw no one. Probably her imagination.

“Someone must have been here.”

Her head throbbed. Magic practice had taken its toll.

Maybe it was just a headache.

Headaches weren’t trivial.

They slowed judgment and made it hard to even stand properly. In severe cases, they distorted vision. That made sense in retrospect.

Her body shivered. The sun was slowly setting. She retraced her steps and returned. The disciples were already gathered. She should have come a bit earlier.

Biliph stepped forward.

“Herbs?”

“Here.”

While he inspected the sack, she observed carefully. Compared to what she had brought yesterday, it was modest. Yet his expression wasn’t bad.

“Less than yesterday?”

“This is normal.”

“Really? You must have been lucky yesterday.”

Biliph said it was a shame—his expression and words were contradictory.

She observed the others. The two men were smiling. Their expressions said: “Of course, a little one like you would do this.” They underestimated her.

It was fortunate—not the worst-case scenario. Being underestimated felt comforting.

Lael’s woolen clothes bulged slightly at the chest. She had hidden some herbs there.

If she hadn’t brought enough, she was ready to pull more out.

Being cheated at the clothing shop had been useful. She had learned to gauge situations cautiously, which helped her get through this safely. She felt she had grasped one lesson of the world.

The disciples accepted that she had been lucky.

For them, that was an easier truth to accept.

Her earnings were less than yesterday.

She had harvested far fewer herbs, so there was no way around it. She wasn’t too disappointed—just slightly regretful. She was satisfied that the atmosphere had relaxed.

On the way back, casual conversation continued.

She listened carefully, concentrating as if it were a training exercise despite her headache.

She had only overcome one hurdle. It was still risky. She needed to understand them to make the future easier.

Even idle chatter yesterday had useful information.

Biliph was the eldest but not the leader of the group. Surprisingly, the girl seemed to hold the highest rank, even appeasing the two men.

The girl was beautiful.

But beauty alone wasn’t why the disciples were deferential. Their behavior was like serving a noble.

When they returned to the alchemist’s house, Lael asked Biliph privately. The girl was the alchemist’s biological daughter. No wonder the disciples were cautious.

Biliph warned her not to flirt with the girl.

He must have thought Lael had feelings for her. She assured him she didn’t—their social statuses were entirely different.

She knew enough not to act above her station.

Climbing the mountain was easy.

Aside from the first day, it wasn’t particularly strenuous.

With fewer herbs to carry, she had time to spare. Once accustomed, most of her time could be devoted to magic practice.

She would wander for an hour or two, find a suitable spot, create water droplets, and hurl them at a tree.

Unlike crossbows, she could practice until exhaustion. Bolts broke after use and were costly.

Magic required no separate weapon. The more she practiced, the more powerful and farther-reaching it became. She began enjoying it.

Her senses sharpened. The deeper her concentration, the more it felt like a barrier breaking—a layer being peeled away.

Then the bushes rustled. This wasn’t an illusion. Her earlier suspicion had been correct.

Someone appeared from behind a tree. It was the girl.

Lael recalled the conversation among the disciples. Her name was Lorina.

Lorina looked at her.

“Lael.”

Lael wasn’t sure if Lorina had seen her using magic. Her expression was unreadable. If asked where she had learned it, she wouldn’t know how to answer.

“Yes.”

“What were you doing instead of gathering herbs?”

Lorina was blonde.

Her face had the soft, chubby features of a child. She usually wore a robe. Her cleanliness gave her a nun-like impression.

They were about the same age—at most, a few years older.

Her voice trembled. Lael didn’t feel guilty, yet it felt strange. It must be the difference in status.

“I was just resting for a while.”

“And the herbs?”

“I gathered what I needed.”

“So you were slacking?”

“No.”

“Then why is the ground wet? It didn’t rain.”