This brings Chapter 2 to a close.
Today, the second...
"...Morning, huh? That was just a dream... or so I thought."
Lying next to me in bed were a pair of bracelets and three collars.
I got changed and headed to the courtyard, and immediately tried fitting one of the collars on Shiromaru.
"Oon?"
When I fastened the collar on Shiromaru and thought "shrink," his body began to reduce in size before my eyes, ultimately shrinking down to about 1.5 meters.
Compared to before the collar was put on, he was roughly half his original size. Seeing that, I tried putting on a bracelet myself. It didn't feel like anything had changed, but the bracelet sank into my wrist and merged with it, as if being absorbed.
When I panicked and tried to take it off, the bracelet reappeared.
After trying a few times, I realized the bracelet had a function that caused it to merge with the wearer's arm when not in use, and it would reappear whenever you focused your thoughts on it.
Incidentally, I also tested whether putting the bracelet some distance away and then focusing would truly bring it back — and it really did reappear on my wrist.
If I shrank Shiromaru right away, it would raise unnecessary suspicion, so I'd keep him at his normal size until we left this city.
This time, when I thought "return to normal," he went back to his usual size. It seemed this collar could be used regardless of the Familiar's size. As expected of a tool passed down directly from a god.
That day, after eating breakfast, I spent the whole day preparing for the journey.
When it came to food supplies, since I had a Magic Bag, I didn't need to worry about shelf life — I bought things and tossed them straight into the bag as I went.
However, putting things directly into the bracelet would probably invite unnecessary trouble, so I employed the roundabout method of first putting everything into the original bag and then transferring it over to the bracelet, stocking up on food in both bags.
While I was busy buying water, alcohol, food, seasonings, and recovery potions, I spotted something interesting at a street stall in a back alley.
It looked like a shabby knife at first glance, but something about it strangely caught my eye.
"Would it be alright if I took a look at this?"
So, I asked the street vendor,
"You've got some strange taste, wanting to look at something that beat-up... I'll sell it to you if you're buying!"
That's what he said, but when I used Appraisal on the items along with everything else,
Orichalcum knife, Mithril dagger, Adamantine sword, Adamantine gauntlets, Adamantine armor,
they were quite... no, they were ridiculously good items. The catch was that each one had been lightly coated in iron or copper on the surface, and those metals had rusted, making them look shabby on the outside.
"How much for all of these?"
"You'll buy them? Then, two gold coins... no, how about one gold coin and five large silver coins?"
"Hmm... well, fine. If they're repaired, they should be usable enough."
I put on a little act, took the money from my bag and handed it over, then collected the merchandise and stuffed it into my bag.
"Oh, so you've got a Magic Bag — that's why you were willing to buy this junk. If you get 'em repaired, they'll be perfectly usable! They might look beat-up, but they're sturdy."
That's what he was saying, but if all of these were fully repaired, they'd be worth several platinum coins' worth, so this was a massive bargain for me.
"Thanks as always~"
The old man was grinning from ear to ear, but honestly, I was the one who wanted to thank him.
Back at the inn, I got right to work cleaning up the knife and the dagger. The method was simple — just clang them against each other.
The knife was a survival-type blade, about 20 centimeters of cutting edge with a roughly 15-centimeter handle.
The dagger could really be called a wakizashi. After all, its construction was nearly identical to a Japanese sword — though it had no scabbard, it was single-edged with a slight curve. The cutting edge was 40 centimeters, with a handle just over 20 centimeters.
When I struck the spines of the two blades together, flakes of surface metal peeled off pitter-patter, revealing blade surfaces underneath without a single cloud or blemish.
The Adamantine sword was a simple greatsword design, with a 1-meter cutting edge and a 50-centimeter handle — quite large. I used the Orichalcum knife to scrape along its surface, and a dark, almost black blade emerged.
The armor and gauntlets were the wrong size for me, so they'd probably sit in my bag gathering dust for a while.
By the time I'd finished cleaning every last detail, nearly two hours had passed in the blink of an eye. It was growing dark outside, and appetizing smells were drifting over from the dining hall.
I decided to conduct an experiment with Shiromaru. I summoned him, shrinking him down, and brought him out into the room.
"Shiromaru, it's time to eat. Here you go."
I gave Shiromaru about half the amount of food I usually did. At first, he ate with his usual enthusiasm, but by the time he'd finished about half, his pace visibly slowed, and—
"Blegh."
He left a third of it behind and stopped eating.
"Yes! Now I can control the amount!"
This meant I could save on food costs, and preparing meals would be a little easier too. Thinking that, I naturally pumped my fist in a victory pose.
"Alright, time for me to eat too."
With that, I set out Slarin's food and water, then headed to the dining hall.
When I walked in, I noticed something I hadn't that morning — a woman with an inexplicably cheerful mood and glowing skin, and a man who looked horribly haggard and aged beyond his years.
"...Tenma... I gave it my all, you know... Night and day... Yeah..."
I tried not to dwell on what might have happened to him.
"You must've had a rough time... Here, please take this. It's a homemade recovery potion."
As I offered it to the old man—
"Don't mind if I do, Tenma! *Gulp, gulp* — oh my, that's actually quite easy to drink!"
The woman snatched it from the side and downed it in one go.
...I will never forget the expression on that old man's face at that moment... It was the look of a man who had been crawling through the middle of a desert, spotted an oasis, dragged himself toward it with every ounce of strength he had left, only to find it was nothing but a cruel mirage... That was the face of absolute despair.
To the old man, who had turned completely white as a sheet—
"...I don't really know what to say... Hang in there..."
I said that, pressed two bottles of recovery potion into his hand, stuffed another four or so into his pocket, and left the scene.
I took my seat at the counter.
"Ma'am, give me your recommendation!"
I ordered, acting as though nothing had happened.
"You got it! One special, coming right up!"
The old man stirred at those words, downed the two bottles of recovery potion I'd pressed into his hands in one go.
"Comin' right up~"
He shuffled into the kitchen. The dish he brought out tasted, perhaps owing to his state, a little on the salty side.
"Oh, ma'am, I'll be heading out tomorrow. Thank you for everything."
"Whaaat!? You're leaving just like that!?"
The landlady's shock was entirely understandable.
"You! Come here for a sec!"
The landlady called the old man over and headed outside, hanging a sign on the door that read "Closed Today."
"What's goin' on~..."
The old man, still not quite back to normal, shuffled out with a groan. After the landlady explained the situation to him,
"Whaaat!?"
*Thud*
He'd strained himself by shouting and collapsed.
"Old man!"
"You—!"
The other patrons started making a commotion, and things got pretty hectic.
The old man came to after about an hour.
"Haah, I had a weird dream!"
"You... That wasn't a dream — Tenma's leaving this town tomorrow, apparently!"
"For real?!!"
The old man was so shocked he nearly had a complete personality breakdown.
"I'm sorry, Old Man. But I have this feeling I need to go right away."
I couldn't exactly tell them what the God of War had taught me in the dream, so I just said that, but—
"I see... For an adventurer, intuition matters too, after all... Can't be helped."
The old man accepted it without much fuss.
"Old Man. This is for you — a token of gratitude for taking care of me for over two years."
With that, I handed the old man a small bundle of several sheets of paper.
"This is a business arrangement, so there's no need to worry about—... Wait, you're serious?!"
"What's the matter... Seriously!"
The papers I gave the old man were recipes for sweets I knew, ones I had successfully managed to reproduce.
"You... This alone is a fortune!"
The truth was, this world had very few recipes for sweets. The main reasons were that sugar was expensive, and the prevailing image was that "sweets meant fruit."
Most people felt that using sugar carelessly would be wasteful — you could just mix raw fruit, heated fruit, or dried fruit into bread and cookies, or simply sprinkle sugar on top, and that would be sweet and tasty enough.
From the recipes, I chose ones that weren't particularly difficult yet would likely appeal to women and children — doughnuts, hotcakes, pudding, cream puffs, and the like.
"Please don't worry. There are recipes not included in here as well. What's written in these are things you can easily make in your own kitchen, and with a little ingenuity, you can create all sorts of different flavors. Besides, as insurance, I've obtained a written endorsement from Duke Sanga."
As I said that and pulled the documents from my bag, the two of them visibly relaxed. The reason was that there had been an actual incident long ago in the Royal Capital where a nobleman had used a sweets recipe without permission to run a business, and when the restaurant owner who protested was executed for it.
So, when I consulted with Duke Sanga during our earlier discussion,
"Well then, let me write something up for you. That way, if anyone messes with that shop, it'll be the same as picking a fight with me,"
he said, and casually wrote it out for me.
"There is just one condition, though. Occasionally, a messenger from the Duke will come by, and he'd like you to make some sweets and hand them over."
With someone of Duke Sanga's caliber, even royalty couldn't easily touch you, so this was essentially top-tier security.
"If that's all, consider it done."
"Now I can eat sweets every day!"
"Landlady, you'd better not overdo it. Women's secrets and all that..."
At my words, the landlady froze for an instant,
"Now I can
eat sweets
once in a while!"
She did a retake. It seems that across every world, weight is a matter of concern for women.
"Anyway, I'll gratefully put this to use."
After that, I spent my last night fielding questions from the old man about the recipes.
That day, the sky was a clear, perfect blue — fitting for a departure.
Despite the early hour, people I'd grown close to in this town had gathered to see me off.
Lily and her group, the old man and the landlady, Flute and the Guild Master, Serna and Marx, Primera, and the squad leaders.
Each of them likely had their own business to attend to, yet they still showed up.
I'd already exchanged proper farewells with all of them, so I simply exchanged brief greetings and moved on.
At that moment, everyone presented me with their own parting gifts. They had prepared handmade light meals, ingredients, drinks, first aid kits, and hand-drawn maps.
"Tenma, take these with you."
So saying, Alan gave me broken swords, spears, armor, and the like.
"These are all pieces that are difficult to repair, but someone like you should be able to reforge them."
He was right—with my alchemy, that should be possible. I gratefully accepted them.
"Tenma, this is from my father."
Primera handed me an envelope sealed with wax. When I opened it—
"Could this be the crest of House Duke Sanga?"
Inside was a hexagonal metal plate the size of a palm, with
the emblem of a spotted deer
emblazoned on it, and a string threaded through the top of the plate.
"Yes, that's right. Carrying this will prove useful should anything happen. There's also a message—the crest is an apology for all the trouble they've caused you. They said to please use it freely. However, they did ask that you refrain from misusing it."
"Thank you for their concern. Of course, I won't use it for anything underhanded. Please convey that."
"Understood. Take care, Tenma."
With those words, I boarded the carriage—
"Everyone, thank you for everything. I'll come back to this town someday!"
I had Tanikaze proceed at a leisurely pace.
I kept facing backward and waving until everyone was out of sight.
Eventually, when they had become smaller than specks of dust and vanished from view, I turned back around and, as though shaking off the loneliness, picked up Tanikaze's speed.
Lily and the others felt almost too subdued, but I figured this might be how things feel once people have found peace in their hearts—so I deliberately left out any dialogue.
Incidentally, the problematic pastry from the Royal Capital is set to be something like melon bread. That noble was sentenced to death by the King.
As for other sweets, there are honey and jam as well, but because beekeeping is a difficult craft, honey costs even more than sugar. Jam is more like stewed fruit, with a comparatively mild sweetness.