There was no truly convenient communications system in this world. La Luna had noticed that a long time ago. In the small town, people passed messages by shouting and delivered letters on foot. Even after arriving in the main city and seeing all kinds of things that looked like advanced technology, it still hadn’t seen anything like a communicator.
La Luna found it really strange. It still couldn’t figure out how this world’s technology tree had been developed. With towering walls, skyscrapers, perfectly smooth roads, and magic that could make creatures run faster than an F1 car, any big city looked like it belonged to an age where both technology and magic were highly advanced. And yet communications had made no progress at all. People still relied on letters, like they did in the Middle Ages.
What La Luna didn’t know yet was that this world did have long-distance communication, but it was reserved for Mages. The power within each person was different. Some were born able to summon flames and unleash incredibly powerful fire attacks. Others were born with a deep connection to the earth, granting them tremendous strength and terrifying defensive power.
But those differences in power meant that, even now, the Human Empire had no communications device that everyone could use. Mages were different. Their power was the same: magic. So all it took was a magic voice transmitter, and most Mages could communicate with one another.
But Itefeil didn’t have anything like that. The western side of the empire was practically a desert for Mages. There were no useful materials for them here, and unless they were traveling the continent, looking for an apprentice, or here on a mission, Mages were almost never seen in these parts. The people of the western empire knew very little about the profession, too.
Itefeil had learned magic through a coincidence piled on top of another coincidence. The old Mage who’d taught Itefeil seemed unimpressed by her talent. He’d only given her a few basic magic runes and a method of meditation, then locked away everything he’d learned in his life inside that room. In the end, La Luna was the one who benefited. After reading the first book on the basics of magic, it could be said that La Luna had completely surpassed Itefeil.
But Itefeil had no idea. After trying every method she could think of and still failing to open that door, she gave up on the old Mage’s legacy. After all, the old man hadn’t told her anything. He’d only said, “Build a door here. Beyond it lies an ocean of magical knowledge. Want my legacy? Then open this door first.”
Itefeil had no idea how to open it. And with her meager skills, how was she supposed to break through the complicated magical seals and chains in front of the door?
In the end, Itefeil gradually developed a fighting style that relied mainly on her own abilities, with magic as support. Still, she had magic to thank for her advantage. At the same level of power, no one could beat her.
But even if Itefeil had a magic communicator, who could she call? She was the only barely initiated Mage in all of Sville City. Without anyone to contact, a communicator was even less useful than a fire striker. It’d be like getting a double room for Valentine’s Day when you were going alone. You might as well save the money and spend it supporting your one-and-only dog-mom oshi.
Just kidding.
Meanwhile, Itefeil was on her way to Feilin’s house. After her promotion to Chief Superintendent, she’d gotten a new uniform. The shoulder cape of her old Senior Superintendent uniform had been replaced with the cloak reserved for a Chief Superintendent, and the badge on her chest had gone from silver to gold.
Itefeil awkwardly pinched the large cloak behind her. La Luna was sprawled in her arms, its eyes still utterly dreamless. It looked just like a salted fish.
“Chief Superintendent, we’ve arrived at the count’s estate.”
Once they reached their destination, the coachman got down himself and opened the door for Itefeil. He’d come in from some rural backwater to make a living in the city, and he hadn’t been here long enough to recognize her. But the standard Chief Superintendent uniform was recognized across the country. He never expected that, just days after arriving in the city, he’d be carrying someone so important. Naturally, he treated her with the utmost respect.
“All right. How much is the fare?”
“Oh, please, Chief Superintendent! I only started this job a few days ago. It’s an honor just to drive someone as important as you. No need to talk about money. I only hope you’ll look kindly on my little business.”
The coachman was just about to leave when Itefeil grabbed him.
“You just arrived in the city, didn’t you? Go ask anyone on the street who Itefeil is! How could I ride in your coach without paying? Come on, work out the fare for me. Hurry up.”
The coachman was at a loss for words. Itefeil looked so serious that he didn’t think she was joking, so he nervously quoted an extremely low price.
“That cheap?”
Itefeil was puzzled by the fare the coachman had quoted. She didn’t visit Feilin’s house often, and usually walked there herself, but she knew the going rate for coach rides in the city. For a trip this long, the price was far too low. Something was definitely wrong.
“Y-yes. I’ve just started up, so everything’s half price right now.”
The coachman stood to one side, smiling as he explained.
Still half-suspicious, Itefeil paid him, then turned and carried La Luna into the count’s estate.
Only after Itefeil had gone did the coachman finally breathe a sigh of relief. He quickly turned the coach around and drove away from the estate gates, berating himself for not finding out beforehand what kind of tempers the city’s powerful people had. If he’d hit a nerve, wouldn’t he have been done for?
Once inside the count’s estate, Itefeil forgot all about the timid-looking coachman. He was obviously some country bumpkin who’d only just arrived in the city, and there was no reason to dwell on him. The important thing now was to get La Luna checked out.
