Learning to Rely

Squish.

I poured more strength into my kneading hands, desperately hoping my rigid back wouldn’t betray my agitation.

Being unable to easily forget anything was a double-edged sword. Happy memories always left me feeling fulfilled, while painful experiences plunged me straight into the abyss. It might sound like a balanced trade-off, but it wasn’t. By nature, the painful side of that blade was bound to be longer and infinitely sharper.

The things that once brought me happiness had already vanished, or were continuously vanishing. Inevitably leaving me—

“…Hey.”

Leaving me all, entirely alone.

“Hey!”

A voice snapping right beside my ear yanked me out of my thoughts.

“What are you brooding over so deeply?”

“Ah.”

I hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Subtly wiping my brow against my forearm, I reined in my scattered thoughts. Fortunately, I hadn’t broken out into a cold sweat.

“Do you want to try too?”

“This? Me?”

“Yeah. It’s fun. Wash your hands first and stand over here. Now, grip this mold and press it firmly into the dough. See?”

“…….”

“That’s it. You’re a natural. And if you press down gently with this one, it carves the pattern. Make sure to be gentle, because if you press too hard, it’ll cut right through. Just the right amount of force.”

“…….”

“Oh. Your control is excellent. Are you sure this is your first time?”

Children are bound to thrive on praise.

Though Lucalis had been thoroughly indifferent at first, after a few tries, his eyes lit up as he began stamping out cookies at a terrifying pace. The prepared dough vanished in the blink of an eye. His expression remained completely blank and he didn’t utter a single word, but I could practically feel the dejection radiating from his back.

“I-I guess I didn’t prepare enough. Hang on a second, I can whip up another batch of dough in no time!”

I frantically kneaded a new batch. It was a fake dough thrown together with just flour and water, entirely unbakeable as real cookies, but what did it matter? The kid liked it.

We kept at it until the moon rode high in the sky, stamping out well over a hundred cookies. Eventually, we ran out of surface space to lay them out, forcing me to use magic to float the trays midair.

“Now all that’s left is to bake them. Tomorrow morning, we’ll finally get to taste the cookies you made.”

“I only stamped them. You did all the actual work beforehand.”

Despite his dismissive words, Lucalis couldn’t take his eyes off the cookies sliding into the oven.

“Let’s get some sleep now. It’s far too late. By morning, the completed cookies will be ready for you to taste.”

“Is there nothing else for me to do?”

“Since I’m baking them with magic…”

I worried for a moment that he might pout again, but fortunately, he simply nodded, crossed the living room, and headed to his room. The wooden floorboards that creaked whenever I walked remained dead silent beneath his feet.

It wasn’t because he was light. It meant that even at his tender age, he had already undergone extraordinary stealth training. It was admirable, yet it left a somewhat bitter taste in my mouth.

The next morning.

The cookies I had stayed up until dawn baking were entirely gone. There was no need to guess who the culprit was. When I checked Lucalis’s room, it was completely empty. I suppose I should be relieved he at least took the cookies with him.

Feeling a sudden drain of energy, I began clearing away the floating trays when something caught my eye.

“Huh?”

They weren’t all gone.

Exactly one remained. A plump cat cookie, stamped out with incredibly precise force, was left sitting on the tray. Given that it was placed in plain sight, it was clearly no accident. The energy that had drained from me surged right back. I let out a helpless chuckle, giggling entirely to myself like a madman.

With a swift wave of my wand, I tidied up the kitchen in record time and popped the cookie into my mouth.

Crunch!

My first cookie in ages tasted absolutely magnificent.

Before the morning sun had even fully risen, the runaway Lucalis returned to the log cabin, firmly clamped in the jaws of a colossal Drake. From a distance, he looked pale with fright, but as the cabin drew nearer and my figure came into view, his face flushed a furious red.

Lucalis screamed at the top of his lungs.

“You said they wouldn’t attack me!”

“Well, it didn’t attack you, did it?”

“…….”

Stunned, he looked up at the Drake. Put that way, it was an undeniable fact.

“You can set him down now, Dracurac.”

The Drake, whose head was the size of a hippopotamus, opened its massive maw. Descending nimbly to the ground, Lucalis kept a wary eye on the creature and swiftly darted behind my back. I had to swallow a sudden urge to laugh.

“Good job. Here is your reward.”

Reaching into my pouch, I tossed the creature its usual treat. It was a fairly large cloth sack, but caught against its massive fangs, it looked smaller than a fingernail.

Rumble-clack!

“Thanks.”

The beast let out a rumbling laugh, wiggling its hindquarters in sheer delight as it turned to leave. I offered a cheerful wave to its retreating back.

“That Drake’s name is Dracurac. He’s one of my regulars.”

“The Drake spoke.”

“He drops by whenever he wants something, and he always brings quite useful things in return.”

“I said, the Drake spoke.”

“…Are you seriously more fascinated by a talking Drake than the Grand Mage standing right in front of you?”

“Of course. It’s a monster that talks.”

“The monsters outside the Monster Forest are mostly weak, so their intelligence is low, but the ones living here can almost all speak. For monsters, intelligence scales directly with strength. It’s nothing to be surprised about. Any mage with an interest in this field knows it.”

Lucalis’s expression shifted. His slightly widened eyes shimmered with an unmistakable curiosity.

“You seem interested.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Really? You aren’t the least bit curious about the village of talking Drakes, the fairies clustered throughout the forest, or the cliffs where skyflowers bloom?”

The boy clamped his mouth shut.

“Let’s strike a deal.”

At the mention of a ‘deal,’ he finally looked back at me.

“I will tell you the secrets of this forest. In exchange, you tell me about yourself.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then we go inside and eat a delicious breakfast.”

“…….”

“Or would you prefer to mull it over while eating?”

“…….”

Without waiting for the silent Lucalis to answer, I turned toward the cabin. Pushing the closed door wide open, I stood at the threshold and looked back at the boy. He glanced back and forth between me and the open doorway.

I waited.

With lingering hesitation, his feet finally began moving in my direction.

Is this truly the right choice? Even if he swore an oath, can I wholly trust this man? He was undoubtedly wrestling with endless doubt and anxiety.

“You’re entirely right to feel that way.”

As the boy passed through the door, I reached out and lightly ruffled his hair.

“Don’t trust me. Keep doubting me. Just make sure to take whatever benefits you can get out of me.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, the boy looked up at me, wearing the expression of a man facing the most tortuous puzzle in the world. I flashed him a broad grin.

“You must be starving. Let’s eat.”

Lucalis accepted my proposal.

I shared the secrets and miracles of the forest that were bound to pique his interest, and though he looked entirely displeased about it, he faithfully answered the questions I asked in return. ‘A deal is a deal,’ he would mutter, as if to remind himself.

His escape attempts persisted, but their frequency dropped drastically compared to the beginning.

Meanwhile, I developed a new habit.

The moment I woke up, I would head straight to the boy’s room, open the door, and check inside. Only after confirming he was sleeping soundly did I finally head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Of course, my perennial problems remained.

There was the invisible, yet faintly palpable presence of that malevolent black entity lurking somewhere, and—

“Ah, this piece of garbage is acting up again…”

And then there were the household chores that couldn’t be resolved with magic.

Creak, rattle!

Knit-browed, I violently rattled the doorknob. It looked ready to fall off at any moment, yet it stubbornly clung to the wood, dangling uselessly. What a walking contradiction of an object. A sigh escaped me.

‘It would honestly be faster to rip it out entirely and install a new one.’

I went to fetch my toolbox. While I could easily move heavy logs with magic, fine, delicate craftsmanship like this was entirely beyond my current capabilities. To be precise, I used to be able to do it, but I couldn’t anymore—a consequence of my mana becoming incomplete due to a certain incident.

Restoring my fractured mana back to its perfect state was a distant, nigh-impossible dream, and since I wasn’t the type to obsess over things I couldn’t change, I had long since adapted.

It wasn’t as if I couldn’t use magic at all. Grand magic was entirely possible with proper preparation, and standard spells were a breeze as long as I had an incantation and a wand. Honestly, since the Great War, I hadn’t felt much of a difference in my day-to-day life.

…Though I felt the stark, miserable reality of it the moment I began living a life without anyone to handle the chores for me. But regardless.

Clicking my tongue, my hands faithfully inspected the rest of the door. The hinges had also accumulated a fine layer of rust. Should I replace these while I was at it? They had been squeaking constantly lately.

Originally, I had left them rusty hoping the noise would tip me off whenever Lucalis tried to run away, but since he rarely attempted to escape these days…

‘At this rate, the day when he stops trying to run away altogether doesn’t seem too far off.’

Even so, I had no intention of keeping him by my side forever. Nor did I desire it.

The Vanessa inside my mind bellowed once more, ‘Until he dies of natural causes!’ but I resolutely ignored her. That task was far too grueling for a faint-hearted sunfish like me.

When the child is ready to stand on his own… once he reaches adulthood, we will head to the Imperial Capital. Until then, I would provide him with everything he required and teach him everything he needed to learn to become the Emperor.

‘Should I ask Cregg to teach him swordsmanship?’

Given that fellow’s severe wanderlust, he wouldn’t agree easily. What ancient dungeon would I have to dangle as bait this time? I barely had a few left on my list. Ah, it’s truly a headache. I had experience, but raising a child was never an easy feat.

‘If only I could manage not to grow too attached.’

I knew that feelings couldn’t be controlled at will, yet a foolish sunfish always harbors the same futile wish, inviting outsiders into his sanctuary anyway. Even while knowing he must shoulder the entirety of the aftermath alone.

…And here I am, completely helpless before a single rusted doorknob.

As I grunted and wrestled with the metal for a long while, a shadow fell over me. It was Lucalis.

“Give it here. I’ll do it.”

“You?”

At my questioning tone, Lucalis raised an eyebrow and snatched the tools right out of my hands. Though he seemed to fumble a bit at first, within moments, he deftly pried the doorknob loose and reinstalled it perfectly on an unmarred section of the wood. I was genuinely impressed.

“Amazing. Spectacular. Magnificent.”

“…It’s nothing special.”

“Could you perhaps fix the window too? The mechanism is quite similar.”

“Which window?”

“The one in the living room.”

Hoisting the heavy toolbox effortlessly, Lucalis marched into the living room. Identifying the window I pointed out, he gave a firm nod. Intending to inspect its condition first, Lucalis threw the window wide open.

Grook?

Slam!

From my angle, I couldn’t see outside, but the sheer sound alone told me everything I needed to know. He had mindlessly thrown it open, only to lock eyes with one of those giant beasts.

“Are you insane?!”

“…For someone so easily frightened, how on earth do you manage to run away at the drop of a hat?”

And in the middle of the Monster Forest, no less.