In the square bustling with people preparing for Winter Preparations, I held my head in my hands as Johan knelt before me and begged for my favor. Surrounding gazes pricked at me from all directions. I could hear whispered voices saying things like "Oh my, what's happening?" and "I wonder what's going on?" It was incredibly uncomfortable.
"Um, Johan. There are a lot of people here, and it's rather difficult to talk in a place like this, so would it be all right if I visited your workshop?"
"No. If you want to talk, do it at my shop."
I had considered going to Johan's workshop, but
"I should know ahead of time what kind of trouble you're getting involved in this time. Talk in front of me and
"Understood. Then, Johan, would you come to the Gilberta Company?"
When I told Johan to stand up, his face lit up as he rose to his feet.
"Of course. It's only natural that your father would worry about a young lady heading to a workshop all alone!"
"We're not parent and child!"
My voice and Benno's rang out in perfect unison.
Taking a bold step forward toward Johan, who was standing there stunned with his eyes and mouth agape, I looked up at him.
"I am Mine. I am indebted to Benno, but we are not parent and child, and I am not an apprentice of the Gilberta Company."
"Huh? But before, you were wearing Gilberta Company apprentice clothes, and you had a commercial guild card…"
Flustered yet still listing off reasons for his parent-child conclusion, Johan's complexion rapidly worsened as he murmured in a daze, "Not parent and child?"
"Mine is the Workshop Head I'm sponsoring. At your age, you'd know about that test, right? I'll hear what you have to say."
"Y-Yes."
Benno let out an exasperated sigh, picked me up, and started striding forward. This was exactly the kind of thing that made people think we were parent and child, yet Benno clearly despised matching my pace and showed no intention of changing his behavior.
Johan hurried to keep up with Benno's speed, who gave no consideration to those following behind, and Lutz broke into a jog.
"Hey, are those two really not father and daughter?"
"No. The master is unmarried."
At Johan's half-desperate voice, Lutz let out an exasperated reply. Benno could clearly hear their hushed conversation too, as he shot Johan a sharp glare.
Johan flinched, which I could see from my vantage point on Benno's shoulder.
Once we were seated at a table in the back room of the shop, Lutz was led away by
As a craftsman from a smithing workshop, Johan had probably never been led into the executive room of a major merchant's establishment. He looked around timidly, appearing awestruck as he took the seat he was offered. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had shouted "Please become my patron!" in the crowded square.
"Benno, what's that test you mentioned?"
Having hoisted myself into my chair, I leaned toward the table and asked. Benno swiftly directed his gaze to Johan.
"Johan, this is your business. You explain it."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Glared at by Benno, Johan straightened up with a start. After comparing me and Benno with his eyes, he let his gaze wander as if searching for words before slowly opening his mouth.
"Um, well, in the smithing association, when an apprentice Dapla comes of age, there's a task they must complete to be recognized as a full-fledged craftsman."
Johan wasn't particularly eloquent, so he spoke haltingly in a quiet tone, searching for his words as he went.
The task, as Johan explained it, was to find a patron among the customers who visited the workshop—someone who recognized your skill and was willing to invest in you—before your coming-of-age ceremony, and then to produce whatever the patron requested within one year.
What the patron asked for could be weapons, household items, or anything else, but the most important aspect of this task was apparently finding a patron who would invest in you based on your own skill.
Naturally, the quality of the finished product and the patron's satisfaction were important, but the patron was also needed to maintain the workshop going forward, so what kind of patron you managed to secure was also a criterion for evaluation.
And if you failed this test, your Dapla contract would be terminated and you would be downgraded to a Drua contract.
"Johan, your skills are good, so wouldn't you find a patron easily?"
"…No, it's no good."
Johan hung his head and slowly shook it.
"The thing is, I'm… extremely particular about fine details… so, well, customers don't really take to me very well."
Because Johan wanted detailed instructions for everything he was asked to make and peppered customers with persistent questions, he apparently had a poor reputation with them. People assumed he was someone who couldn't work without getting every little detail spelled out. A skilled craftsman, they said, was one who could produce what the customer wanted even from rough instructions.
That was partly true, but it didn't seem entirely fair to call Johan unskilled when his ability to follow detailed instructions to perfection was exactly what made him so capable.
In any case, despite his poor customer rapport, his skills were excellent, and he now handled all the intricate details of every order that came to the workshop. Naturally, the smithing workshop didn't want to lose him, but if he couldn't produce results on the association's task, there was nothing they could do.
"I'm the only apprentice Dapla in the smithing association who still hasn't secured a patron… Autumn is nearly over and my coming-of-age ceremony is coming up, so I'm really in a bind…"
Here, the
"Sorry to keep you waiting, sir."
Lutz and Mark returned carrying tea. Tea was distributed to everyone, Mark bowed and left the room, and Lutz took a position behind Benno.
Benno took a sip of his tea, then looked at Johan with furrowed brows.
"Hmm, I understand the situation. Mine is a Workshop Head, but she's obviously a child. Your master surely objected to the idea."
Johan shrank in on himself as though he had nowhere to hide.
"That's true, but…"
Normally, since I was a minor, people would object to me being a patron, since the amount of money a minor could use was limited.
However, I had a track record of placing large orders, I had my own card, and I valued Johan's skill. On top of that, I had joyfully answered his nitpicky questions, praised his abilities, and even specifically requested him. Apparently, I was a strange customer who understood that detailed questions would be coming and brought elaborate design drawings with my orders—the kind of customer who was uniquely suited to Johan.
The moment I had specifically requested Johan and placed an order, I had apparently acquired the qualifications to be a patron. Though since I was a minor, I still needed the permission and guarantee of a parent or guardian.
"The only person who comes to the smithing workshop who might become my patron is the young lady of the Gilberta Company. I figured it was a long shot, but I figured I should at least ask, so I got kicked out of the workshop by my master and told to go ask…"
He figured that if she was the young lady of a major merchant house, she might be able to convince her father to serve as a public patron. And if the Gilberta Company became his patron, that would add prestige to his name as well.
Clutching at straws, he had gone to the shop, only to be told that "the master has gone to the commercial guild." He followed to the guild, and there, amid the chaos of the second floor, he spotted me—a small head poking up from the crowd—being carried around in the arms of that very same master.
"I never imagined you really weren't parent and child…"
Johan's shoulders slumped in defeat. Benno's habit of carrying me around both at the workshop and the commercial guild, combined with Lutz and me showing up together in apprentice clothes to place high-value orders, had apparently cemented his conviction that I was the young lady of the Gilberta Company.
Come to think of it,
"There's no way Mine could be my daughter. If I were her parent, I wouldn't raise such a scatterbrained, oblivious fool. At the very least, I'd instill in her the attentiveness that Corina has."
Hearing Benno's words—coming from a man who had lost his parents young and raised his younger sister even while unmarried—I pouted stubbornly. I glared back at Benno, but he was the one who looked more miffed about being treated as my parent.
"So, since we're not parent and child, it probably won't work out…"
Johan said that with a resigned expression and started to rise from his chair.
I grabbed his sleeve with a firm grip. I had wanted to ask him to make something with no strings attached, but if Johan was searching for a patron, this was a golden opportunity.
"Benno, Benno. Hehehe~…"
As I tugged on Johan's sleeve and turned a bright smile toward Benno, he pressed a hand to his temple as if he'd known this was coming and let out a long, slow breath.
"…You're going through with it, aren't you?"
"Yes. I have something I want Johan to make."
"Fine. I'll grant permission as your guardian, and I'll serve as guarantor."
Benno lightly waved his hand and gave his permission as easily as flipping a page.
It was Johan who was actually more surprised by how readily the permission came.
"Um, a guarantor pays in place of the patron when the patron's funds run out…"
"Come on, a merchant like you surely knows what a guarantor means? There's no need to worry. In Mine's case, there's no concern about her running out of money, so there's no hesitation in becoming a guarantor."
Benno shrugged, explaining that even if she ran short, the picture books currently being printed would more than make up for it, and just selling the method for making odorless candles alone would quickly recoup the amount invested in a smithing workshop.
"In the sense that money isn't a concern, you've drawn a fine patron, you have."
A wealthy patron was something everyone dreamed of having. Johan's face lit up at Benno's words.
"That's amazing, young lady!"
"I'm not a young lady—I'm Mine!"
"Ah, sorry about that. Will you be my patron, Mine-chan… -sama?"
Johan looked at me, struggling to figure out what to call me, and Benno lightly rapped him on the head.
"Hey, when addressing a patron, adding the honorific is standard, isn't it? Based on your age and appearance, the honorific doesn't really suit Mine, but regardless, she's the one investing in you."
"I'm sorry. Mine-sama."
Johan hastily bowed his head.
I laughed lightly and waved my hand, signaling it didn't matter. What I was called wasn't important—it wasn't a particularly significant matter. What was significant to me was the piece Johan would create for his task.
"Then I'll bring the design drawings and a list of the items I want Johan to make to your workshop tomorrow or so."
Today, I would devote my remaining time to working hard on the design drawings and fabrication notes, going all-out on the details. I was fired up, thinking my craftsmanship was really going to shine, when Johan blinked in surprise.
"Huh? A-A list? Um, the task only requires making one piece, you know?"
"Yes, that's right—it's one piece. I'm having you make movable type, so when it's all assembled, it counts as a single item."
The basic alphabet used here consisted of thirty-five characters, and like upper- and lower-case letters in the Roman alphabet, or hiragana and katakana in Japanese, there were two variants for each sound. Naturally, I would need both sets of type cast. Fifty for each vowel and twenty for each consonant should be enough to get started.
"If I'm going to be your patron, what I want you to make is metal movable type. The pieces are tiny and there are a lot of them, so I imagine it'll be quite tough… What do you think, Johan? Would you regret having me as your patron?"
I gave a brief explanation of movable type, but it was clearly an unexpected task. Johan's eyes went wide and unfocused as he looked to Benno and Lutz for help.
Benno and Lutz exchanged a glance and gave slight nods.
"Listen carefully to what others say. I told you that in terms of not having to worry about money, she's a good patron."
"If you think you can't handle Mine's unreasonable demands, you'd be better off giving up and finding another patron. She's always like this."
Whether it was advice or pressure, Johan couldn't tell, but he clenched his fists on his knees and shut his eyes tightly.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Johan looked at me with a resolute gaze.
"…Please. Will you become my patron?"
That very same day, I threw myself into the work and created a detailed request document with design drawings and fabrication specifications. I brought it to the workshop first thing the next morning.
Johan was astonished that I'd actually delivered it so soon—literally the very next day—but after reading through the request document, he was burning with motivation, so I figured there was no problem leaving things to him.
"Lutz, we're one step closer to movable type printing now."
"…You look like you're having fun, Mine."
"Of course I'm having fun! Once we clear this hurdle, movable type printing will be right around the corner. Once Johan finishes the type, I'll modify the press into a printing machine. But that's work for spring. I need to earn plenty during the winter."
Humming a little tune, I headed for the
"Good morning, Mine-sama. It appears you're feeling better."
"Hey, Fran, Mine's in a pretty excited and uplifted mood today, so keep an eye on her, would you? If you leave her alone, she'll probably keel over from a fever while laughing."
At Lutz's words, Fran raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at me. Then, with a gentle smile, he shook his head.
"Lutz, there's no need to worry that much. When Mine-sama arrived at the Temple, she was summoned by the Chief Priest, who informed her that there was an important matter to discuss. He said she would be using the hidden room, so I expect her uplifted mood will vanish rather quickly."
The Chief Priest's hidden room, to me, was the scolding room. The moment I learned I'd been called to that room, any excitement would evaporate in an instant.
"My good mood is already gone. What kind of scolding is it going to be? I haven't done anything that I know of…"
"Well, knowing you, you probably did all sorts of things without realizing it. Just accept your fate and go get scolded."
I let out a heavy sigh, and Lutz gave my shoulder a light pat with a wry smile.
"I'll be at the workshop checking on the printing."
"Ugh, I'm off then."
I changed into my Blue Robe back at my room and headed to the Chief Priest's chambers without even practicing the Feischpiel today. Even walking along at a sluggish, dragging pace, I still ended up arriving at the Chief Priest's room.
"Chief Priest, good morning."
"Ah, Mine. Good morning. You've heard from Fran, I presume? Come in."
With a slightly stern expression, the Chief Priest strode toward the hidden room. This was definitely going to be a scolding. Clutching at my stomach, I followed him into the hidden room he had opened.
"Bring all those documents over here."
As I cleared the documents from one end of the long couch and moved to sit down as usual, the Chief Priest extended his hand and said that. I gathered up all the documents from the couch and handed them over to him.
He placed them on the desk with a heavy thud, then pulled out a chair with his usual clatter. However, I could see that in his hands he held an ornamental circlet adorned with red stones set in gold filigree, and a bottle small enough to hide in the palm of his hand.
"Mine, drink this."
The Chief Priest opened his hand and offered me the small bottle. Inside the slightly thick, not-very-transparent glass, a red liquid was swaying.
"What is this?"
"It's a potion I prepared. It has the effect of making it easier for magic power to flow through. It's necessary for using this Magical Tool. Whether it tastes foul or bitter, hold your nose and drink it."
With an irresistible force, the Chief Priest thrust the bottle of medicine in front of my eyes. Being told something like that made me not want to drink it at all. I still hadn't forgotten the taste of that absolutely wretched medicine from before.
The golden eyes watching my hesitation narrowed ever so slightly, and the corners of the Chief Priest's lips turned up just a fraction.
"Would you prefer that I pinch your nose and pour it down your throat?"
He was serious. When the Chief Priest decided something was necessary, he would do it without changing his expression one bit.
I shook my head vigorously and accepted the small bottle of red medicine that the Chief Priest held out.
"…I'll drink it myself."
I wondered what it would taste like this time. Cautiously, I brought the bottle to my lips. It didn't smell particularly strange. If I sipped it slowly, I wouldn't be able to drink more once it tasted bad. I steeled myself and tipped it all into my mouth in one go.
"…Hmm?"
It wasn't bitter or unpleasant at all. If anything, it had a faint sweetness and was actually quite tasty.
"Chief Priest, this isn't bitter or unpleasant at all. It's faintly sweet and actually delicious. I wish the recovery medicine from back then had tasted this good."
As I handed the empty bottle back to the Chief Priest, I recalled the murderously bitter medicine and said as much. The Chief Priest looked genuinely surprised, his eyes widening.
"You found it sweet?"
"Yes. Is that strange?"
"…I see. Well, fine. Put this on."
The Chief Priest held out the gold circlet with the red stone that he'd been holding. Resistance was futile, so I obediently took it.
"What is this? What am I supposed to do with it?"
"Simply place it on your head so that the magic stone rests against your forehead."
Following the Chief Priest's instructions, I placed the circlet on my head so the red stone pressed against my forehead. Just like when I had borrowed the Magical Tool ring, it shrank to fit my size and settled snugly against my head like a small crown.
"Chief Priest, you called this a Magical Tool. What exactly is it?"
"I had requested it from the Lord some time ago, and it has finally arrived."
"Um, what exactly is it for… Huh? W-What?"
The moment I put on the circlet, an overwhelming wave of drowsiness crashed over me. My head went blank, everything swam, and my eyelids began closing on their own.
"Huh? W-Why? I'm so sleepy…"
"Simply lie down slowly and let yourself sleep. There's no need to resist."
The Chief Priest's words drifted to me in a hazy blur. I could hear them, but understanding them took time, as if a curtain had fallen over my consciousness.
Since he'd said there was no need to resist, I surrendered to the drowsiness overtaking me and settled into my usual sleeping posture. I pulled out the Hairpin, kicked off my shoes, and flopped onto the long couch. The moment I lay down, my consciousness plunged toward the abyss.
"Oh, excuse… me…"
Gathering my last ounce of strength to offer a polite farewell, I felt the Chief Priest's fingertips brush aside the hair from my forehead. He was close—his voice sounded impossibly near, as though he were speaking directly into my ear.
"This is a Magical Tool that searches memories to determine whether the perpetrator or witnesses of a grave incident—one serious enough for the Lord to judge personally—are telling the truth. …Now, show me the dream world you spoke of."
Mine became Johan's patron.
Johan was probably given the most tedious task in the entire smithing association—tiny pieces, enormous quantity.
Next time, the Chief Priest's perspective: Anecdote of the Dream World.