Day two was a disaster.
It had confirmed what I'd long suspected: group activities simply didn't work.
Those who'd gone fishing had come back with predictably sparse results, too.
Naturally, we hadn't managed to accomplish anything of note either.
We couldn't wander far from the teachers' line of sight, so our range for searching herbs and nuts was severely limited.
Besides, those areas had already been picked over by the other students on day one. There was no way we'd stumble upon anything useful so easily.
If I'd had my way, I would've headed west.
There was a desert zone in that direction, which meant the plant life should've been completely different — so there could've been herbs suited for seasoning.
But, well... What we'd actually obtained was a pitiful collection of nuts, some edible grass, and a lump of rock salt.
If we could reach the shore, we could harvest salt from seawater — but if it were that simple, we wouldn't be struggling. I could've gone there on my own without issue, but even the scouting party had only covered a quarter of the distance to the island's edge in an entire day. Getting salt from seawater was simply not a viable option.
Had I not noticed the crystallized salt in the rock, we would've been stuck with saltless meals for the rest of the trip...
...Or so I would have you believe. That was a lie.
I had secretly prepared the rock salt all along.
The whole point was that you can't do anything without salt. This was one thing I absolutely had to have ready.
There was, in fact, a salt lake to the west, but since we'd been dropped in the same spot as yesterday, I couldn't make my way there.
As a desperate measure, I'd used magic to quickly crystallize the underground salt deposits while nobody was watching, then carefully affixed the crystals to a rock so nothing looked out of place.
And then, feigning complete nonchalance, I'd arranged for Mondo to conveniently discover it.
"Th-this! This is a lump of salt!!" Mondo reported with such elated joy that it completely overshadowed my own wooden acting, practically glowing with the thrill of his discovery.
No points had been awarded, but nobody found it suspicious. Everyone simply assumed that picking up a rock didn't merit bonus points this time, and left it at that.
And just like that, I'd managed to secure our salt supply.
I returned to base and started preparing dinner.
Lunch was supposed to be covered individually, either with battle rations or foraged food. So George, Mondo, and I had gathered some nuts and wild strawberries, but it was nowhere near enough.
For George and Mondo, "not enough" was a matter of quantity. For me, it was a matter of quality. Dry, bland, and frankly just awful.
So naturally, I'd been looking forward to dinner — but today's foraging had yielded nothing.
Licking my salt miserably, I slurped down the god-awful grass soup.
Magnus and a few other students had apparently resigned themselves to battle rations.
I understood exactly how they felt.
It was the kind of dinner so bleak it could bring you to tears.
And into this misery, the aroma of the lavish meal Julius and his group were enjoying drifted over, igniting my fury.
Let me be blunt: this was a provocation.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this furious in recent years.
That delicious smell was only making our pathetic situation feel even worse.
"Tomorrow, I'm going all out and making a real meal."
"Yeah. I'm way too hungry. I'll do my best tomorrow!"
"R-right. I'll give it my all too."
My murmur must have come across as somehow menacing, because George nodded with a startled expression. Mondo, too consumed by his hunger to think about anything, simply nodded without a second thought.
The two girls seemed to agree as well, so I resolved to give it everything I had the next day, and we called it a night.
◇◇◇ And then came day three.
The day started off lucky.
A pig-like magical beast had fallen into the pit trap I'd set on the first day.
...Or so I would have you believe. Another lie.
In the dead of night, I'd secretly tracked it with Magic Sense, snagged it with Sticky Steel Thread, and lured it into the trap I'd prepared.
Today would be the day I ate a proper meal! Driven by that obsessive determination, I slightly loosened the restrictions I'd placed on my own abilities.
Restraint? Is that something you can eat?
I'd heard that city dwellers who romanticized country life or fantasized about self-sufficient forest living often ended up fed up with the sheer inconvenience of it all.
I was no different.
Sore muscles everywhere, forced to endure terrible food, having to continue a life without so much as entertainment or a bath — and it had only been two days, yet I'd already reached my breaking point.
On this, merely the third day, I had already given up on holding back.
"I'm taking a break from foraging today to butcher this thing."
I declared this to my teammates while standing before the two-hundred-kilogram boar-type magical beast.
Fortunately, I'd already passed thirty points. There was no need to push for more.
"We don't need to help?" George asked.
"Leave the cooking to me," I answered. "But I'd appreciate it if you could gather some firewood for fuel."
Hearing this, George readily agreed.
They planned to spend the morning collecting firewood, then continue foraging for points in the afternoon without pushing too hard.
They may have sensed my determination and were trying not to get in the way.
But I wasn't the only one who stayed behind. One other person remained.
Masha.
I'd asked Masha to help because she'd already reached a passing score.
"I'm sure you already know this, but I'm really not great at cooking..."
She looked worried, but that wasn't a problem at all.
What I needed from Masha wasn't cooking — I needed her to test a new type of magic.
I believed Masha's magical talent was the real deal, so I wanted to use this opportunity to have her test the new magic I'd devised.
Besides, there were still recovering teachers who could help with prep work, so manpower wasn't an issue.
"All right, we'll be back by noon."
"Leave the firewood to us!"
"We're off~!"
With that, the three of them headed out.
Now then, time to get cooking.
Since I'd captured it alive, the meat was as fresh as it could be.
I'd asked one of the combat instructors whose injuries had healed to help with properly draining and butchering the magical beast.
Watching the meat get processed in the blink of an eye was nothing short of spectacular.
If I'd switched to full auto — handing everything over to
Just to be clear, it wasn't because my muscles were sore or anything.
I was just grateful the instructor had pitched in.
The first day had been fish barbecue, but today I'd be making skewers from this meat.
I alternated between nutritious-looking wild greens and the meat, assembling skewer after skewer.
A sprinkle of the salt I'd prepared, a light dusting of finely chopped herbs, and they were done.
All that remained was grilling.
Honestly, I thought they'd already turn out pretty delicious on their own.
That's because I'd used Analytical Appraisal to calibrate the optimal salt level and fine-tune the seasoning with herbs.
I'd brought everything to its peak state within the constraints we were working under.
But this was just the beginning.
The real star of the show was the bone broth I was currently simmering.
"How's it going?" I called out to Masha.
And then — "I can't believe it... Why — how is it possible to perform such long, precise magic control without consuming a single magicule?!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.
It seemed like the experiment was a success. I allowed myself a quiet grin of satisfaction.
I'd wanted to lead the test myself, but that was obviously impossible. I needed to keep my identity hidden, and it would've been too conspicuous for a non-student to teach new magic.
So instead, I'd recruited Instructor William to be my assistant.
Well, "assistant" wasn't quite right — I'd asked him to act as the instructor.
The previous night, I'd coordinated a detailed plan with William: I'd leave Masha behind as my helper, and William would naturally approach her and begin guiding her through the process.
The plan had worked perfectly.
And the magic in question was — ◇◇◇ After finishing the preparations for simmering the bones in the large pot, I called out to Masha.
That was the signal to begin.
"Masha, sorry to bother you, but could you use magic to adjust the heat?" I asked in a perfectly casual manner.
Masha accepted the request as planned, and regulating the heat under the big pot became her responsibility.
But of course, this was no simple task.
Even for Masha, who possessed considerable magicule reserves and excelled at controlling Magicules, maintaining concentration for such fine, sustained manipulation was a real challenge.
As I watched her struggle from the corner of my eye, William chose the right moment to approach.
He walked up to Masha, offered some advice, and then, as if it had just occurred to him, casually changed the subject.
"Oh, that reminds me, Masha. I've been looking after a magical tool on behalf of an acquaintance... You might just be able to master it. Would you care to give it a try?"
While explaining the basics of how magic worked and how to channel power, William produced — with a perfectly timed air of having just remembered — seven playing cards.
The material was thin sheets of pure
"Instructor, what is this...?" Masha began.
"Well, it's like this —"
Following the script I'd given him the night before, William explained the cards to Masha.
He kept glancing our way to make sure he wasn't getting anything wrong, but Masha didn't seem to notice.
Everything was mostly on track, so I gave a subtle nod of approval.
Encouraged, William resumed his explanation.
What I'd given him the night before was a magical device of an entirely new category that I'd invented.
At its core were eight activation mediums.
These represented the eight fundamental attributes — the power of the Holy Spirits that formed the foundation of this world.
Light and Dark, Time, and then Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, and Void — eight in total.
I'd given Masha seven of them.
Time was excluded, since it was too dangerous for ordinary people to wield.
Each medium had the Primordial Words corresponding to its essence inscribed upon it: Light — Purification, Promotion, Regeneration. Dark — Concealment, Mental, Annihilation. Earth — Gravity, Decomposition, Compression. Water — Solidification, Stagnation, Release. Fire — Combustion, Acceleration, Detonation. Wind — Waveform, Impact, Vibration. Void — Space, Existence, Information.
By simply pouring magic into a card and mentally activating it, the corresponding effect could be produced.
After that, the activation medium itself handled the magicule control, so even if the caster's concentration wavered, the magic wouldn't cut out.
The truly important factor was the caster's imagination at the moment of activation.
No incantation was even necessary.
Of course, if you used a Light card while imagining a Dark effect, nothing would happen, and correct selection and sequence were required — but those were just matters of practice.
I'd named this new magic system Mantra Conversion Magic.
At the moment, I'd only inscribed the most basic elements, but I planned to combine them over time, eventually enabling even overlapping spells.
For instance, combining Earth's "Compression" with Fire's "Detonation" would produce "Gravitational Collapse."
There were still issues — difficulty of comprehension, the concentration needed to specify range and power, the enormous quantity of Magicules required — but those were secondary concerns.
That was, of course, an extreme example.
But I wanted people to understand: this was a magic system that allowed anyone to manipulate the laws of this world more efficiently and more easily than mastering Elemental Magic.
Naturally, I had no intention of releasing this to the public.
This was purely an experiment — testing how well a student with no deep knowledge of magic could actually use it.
What I really wanted to evaluate was its usability.
《So that's what you were aiming for, after all.》 Ciel said this with an air of satisfaction, for some reason.
Incidentally, while there was no question that I was the one who had conceived Mantra Conversion Magic — the one who had actually developed it was, needless to say, Ciel.
So she'd apparently predicted from day one that I'd want to try it somewhere, and that I'd end up entrusting the test to Masha.
That explained why she'd seemed to be saying "I already knew!" all along.
But the thing was, the idea of running this experiment had been pure coincidence.
When cooking, adjusting the heat is essential. While pondering how to solve that problem, I'd remembered Masha.
In my normal state, I could control magic effortlessly, but under my "ordinary person" persona, that was off the table. I couldn't very well adjust the heat myself.
But there was absolutely no way I was giving up on a delicious meal — and that was when I'd recalled Masha's exceptional talent.
So really, the whole reason I'd taught Masha this magic was to have her serve as a substitute cooking heater.
I'd simply been too considerate to burden the teachers with such menial tasks.
That was all there was to it.
— Yes, everything was in service of a delicious meal!
Why was I so obsessed with fine food?
Just think about it.
Of the three great human desires — sleep, sex, and hunger — the only one I still had access to was hunger.
Was it any wonder I was desperate?
I hadn't earned the title King of
◇◇◇ — And so, the experiment was apparently a success.
Masha had used the Fire and Water cards exactly as instructed, controlling the heat with exquisite precision.
"Instructor William, these magic cards are incredible!" she gushed.
"Mm... Yes, they are indeed..." William replied distractedly.
Masha was practically overflowing with excitement, but William was in no state to share it. He'd just glimpsed the unfathomable depths of magic that lay beyond his understanding, and rather than excitement, he was on the verge of respiratory distress.
I felt a little sorry for him.
He kept looking at me as though begging for rescue, and I resolved to help him out later.
But right now, cooking took priority.
Setting William aside for the moment, I turned to the final touches.
Stripping out the bones, simmering the meat and vegetables together, seasoning the broth — all while using Analytical Appraisal to maintain perfect conditions, gradually coaxing the stew toward the best flavor possible given our circumstances.
I swapped places with Masha and took over for the final stage.
During that time, Masha joined the instructors in laying out the barbecue skewers on the grill.
The firewood George and the others had brought back before noon was arranged in a makeshift hearth, a grill rack placed on top... Preparation was progressing smoothly.
And on my end — The simmered meat had become melt-in-your-mouth tender, and the unidentified wild greens had released flavors they had no business producing...
In short, I'd thrown the recipe out the window and created my own original stew.
I tasted it cautiously — And found it had turned out just as good as
"Perfect."
I murmured with genuine emotion.
It felt like I'd been eating bad food for an eternity, but in reality, only three days had passed.
Still, for me, it had been considerable suffering.
Who would've thought that simply not being able to cook could risk exposing my identity? But fortunately, it seemed I'd dodged that bullet.
Next time, I just had to avoid making the same mistake.
For now, though, I wanted to savor the magnificence of this completed stew.
I scooped some up with a spoon and handed it to Masha, who had been eyeing it longingly.
"It's amazing!! I've never tasted anything this good — not at home, not at school, nowhere!!"
Having someone to share the joy of accomplishment with made everything sweeter.
Masha and I, filled with the satisfaction of a job well done, lost track of time for a while.
As an aside, the instructors who'd helped out also looked eager to sample the stew, but while I was lost in my blissful trance, that was none of my concern.
So I made sure not to notice, and it remained a secret that only the two of us had gotten a taste.
And just like that, evening arrived.
The foraging party, including George and the others, had returned, and firewood reserves were fully stocked.
By the time everything was ready, the magic circle was glowing, and the exploration party made their way back.
And at last, the long-awaited dinner began.
Cheers erupted across the plaza.
Some were so moved they were on the verge of tears.
Student after student approached me to express their gratitude.
A few instructors were among them, apparently, but that was their business.
Magnus, half-asleep, had mumbled something about "Satoru, marry me!" to which I'd replied, "I'll beat you senseless," before confiscating his stew.
No point wasting good food on an idiot.
After that, I could hear a desperate apology from somewhere, but I ignored it.
The stew I'd confiscated from Magnus was gleefully devoured by Mondo.
And then — "It's delicious."
Even Julius himself had come over, and without a word of complaint, eaten an entire bowl of stew.
"Hmph. You should be grateful," I declared with a supremely arrogant air.
But despite my attitude, Julius simply stared at me for a moment, then quietly turned and walked away without saying a word.
That was almost scarier than if he'd said something.
And so, the third night passed with everyone content.
— But the incident was yet to come.