Volume 6 Chapter 44 Unicorn Spring
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Water! At last—!”
The weary soldiers surged toward the roadside spring, relief lighting their dust-streaked faces. Crystal-clear water trickled from a narrow fissure in a massive boulder, guided with clever craftsmanship into a shallow stone basin set into the earth.
In the blink of an eye, the basin was surrounded by a crush of bodies, each man urgently filling his water skin. Within moments, the reservoir ran dry.
”Out of the way, you lot! Her Highness is approaching!”
Baron Gorigan’s booming voice preceded him, his knights swiftly dispersing the cluster of soldiers with blunt force and sharp words.
”Please, this way, Your Highness,” the baron said, gesturing with a sweeping arm. “This is the famed Unicorn Spring—a sacred water source, known throughout the land.”
He shoved aside a soldier still lingering by the edge, then stooped to fill a small cup. Despite the noblewoman trailing behind him frowning at his uncouth behavior, Gorigan raised the cup without shame.
”Ahhh… That hits the spot. Straight to the soul! Ahem—of course, I only tasted it to ensure its quality. The water is excellent, Your Highness. Please, try some.”
Princess Auroora accepted the offered cup, her gloved hands delicate against the rough silver. She did not drink. Formal court etiquette dictated otherwise.
Baron Gorigan, ever ambitious, lacked polish in manners but made an effort to imitate noble propriety when in her presence. He aimed to secure a promotion to Count by the end of this campaign, and though his imitation was transparent, he persisted. Behind him, members of Auroora’s personal retinue exchanged silent glances, a few hiding smiles behind their sleeves.
”Is the spring always this small?” Auroora asked softly. “Will it be enough to supply the soldiers?”
”It may take some time to refill,” Gorigan replied with a grunt, “but it’s the only proper source before Hollowvale. We have no other choice.”
”We had hoped to supplement our water with magic, but maintaining the barrier has consumed more mana than anticipated.”
”Still, thanks to Your Highness bringing a considerable number of magicians, the enemy won’t dare risk an arrow barrage. This will surely end in a glorious victory.”
To Auroora’s ears, his confidence sounded more like blind optimism than strategy.
”Very well,” she said. “Let us rendezvous with the rear convoy here. Until then, allow the troops to rest.”
The force under Princess Auroora’s direct command numbered around three hundred. Less than a hundred of them were loyal followers of Baron Gorigan. The rest were a motley collection of conscripts and mercenaries, including some hired from the distant Totoana Empire.
Officially, Auroora held supreme command. But because Gorigan represented the interests of the Bespal Kingdom, the command structure was murky and strained. If defeat came, all would scramble to avoid blame—but they would gladly seize glory should victory fall into their hands.
And so, burdened by political tensions as much as enemy blades, Auroora remained perpetually troubled.
* * *
The enemy’s main forces had stopped moving. A pause to eat, perhaps. Even armies needed to rest, after all. Marching indefinitely without food or sleep simply wasn’t possible.
I was hungry and sleepy, too. Thankfully, my magic bag was stuffed with fresh meals I’d prepared in advance. A bit of luxury amidst the tension—but of course, eating only made me sleepier. An indulgent problem, in a way.
Food mattered. A growling stomach was an enemy in its own right. Better to eat properly than to fight on an empty belly. And if I grew too tired… well, there was no shame in taking a short nap.
I hadn’t slept properly in several days, but compared to the time I’d battled the Lamia in the Valley of Trials, this was easier. Back then, every second was a gamble. Now, at least, I had some room to breathe.
As long as the enemy kept up their barrier, I had no need to fire the Indra Gun. If I left it alone for thirty minutes, the barrier might drop. But even ten minutes would give me time to rest without fear.
Even a few moments of sleep could clear the fog from my mind. If only I had a proper alarm clock—or a kitchen timer. Anything to wake me reliably.
I had asked Pii-Pii to rouse me if needed, but the little fairy was too kind-hearted. If I looked exhausted, she might hesitate. Besides, fairies loved to sleep, too. Asking her to stay awake all night seemed cruel.
Without Pii-Pii’s mana amplification, I couldn’t fire the Indra Gun. Perhaps it was best to sleep properly tonight.
The enemy likely intended to rest as well. Even with magical lighting, marching through treacherous mountain paths in the dark was too risky. They’d lose men to the cliffs and forest before reaching any battlefield. A wise commander would camp in a safe location.
While they slept, I could rest, too. Tizzy and the others were probably hard at work establishing defensive positions. I just had to buy time.
The Mineley Duchy had the economic strength to weather this assault. A thousand invaders didn’t pose a fatal threat—not here. The terrain was naturally defensible.
Still, the duke’s overly pacifist mindset made things complicated. If I were the lord of this land, I’d withdraw my troops gradually while harassing the enemy through narrow paths, never overextending. There were hundreds of natural choke points along the route—places barely wide enough for a small cart to pass.
Even just blocking the roads could delay them for years.
If we followed Ms. Shirakaba’s plan and struck the enemy’s supply lines from the flank, their advance would crumble. A clean checkmate.
Yes, blocking the mountain paths might be the best course. If they pushed closer to Hollowvale, a controlled landslide could wipe them out entirely. I wondered—could their arrow barrier stop that? Possibly not. But I didn’t want to try it unless necessary.
A mass burial… no. That was not something I wanted on my hands.
From a soldier’s standpoint, the answer was simple: crush the enemy with overwhelming force. But as a monarch, I had to consider the bigger picture. The balance of power. The long-term consequences.
At least, that’s what I told myself. The truth was simpler.
Killing people is hard.
I didn’t target them by name, but I’d already used the Indra Gun to fire bolts at supersonic speed. A few had surely died. And if any of them failed the otherworlder death-reset… they were gone for good. People I never met. Good or bad—I had erased them.
The guilt didn’t come immediately. It crept in slowly, settling deep, like a cold stone lodged in the heart.
It was different from hunting animals. Killing your own kind struck something primal.
I tried to rationalize it. Maybe the otherworlders weren’t truly human. Maybe that made it easier.
But even so…
Sabroa Duchy aspired to become a hub of commerce. From that angle, wiping out potential future trading partners was short-sighted. The global population was already dwindling.
A better path would be to make them regret ever coming here—to show them through exhaustion and frustration that war wasn’t worth it.
Yes, that was the right approach: harassment, not slaughter.
Hunger. Thirst. And the worst of all—sleeplessness. Sleep deprivation could break even the strongest soldier. If I could deny them rest, I could slowly erode their will.
When they began to drift off, that’s when I’d strike.
I had a new weapon for that very purpose.
Among the many failed prototypes I’d created while testing ammunition for the Indra Gun, one bolt stood out. It wasn’t destructive—it barely flew straight. But it screamed.
An earsplitting shriek echoed as it soared through the air.
Perfect.
Not for killing—but for keeping the enemy awake.
Once fired, I could go back to sleep while the chaos played out. They’d never know when the next one would come. The tension alone would break them.
A one-sided war of attrition. And I had the upper hand.
I would mass-produce the bolts at once.
Their name: Siren Bolts.
A fitting title for something meant only for the Indra Gun—my weapon, and mine alone.
* * *
Princess Auroora bolted upright inside her tent, startled by a sudden, unfamiliar noise.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the forest beyond the encampment echoed with a relentless clamor. The cawing of countless crows pierced through the night air, a din so sharp it made her ears ache. Though the birds had been noisy even at dusk as they returned to their nests, this was something far more frantic.
”What’s happening out there?”
She turned to one of her female knights, who had accompanied her under the guise of a maid, but the woman could only offer a vague shake of her head. Amid the chorus of crows, the sharp clang of metal and distant cries rang out—soldiers shouting of an attack.
”A night raid!”
Baron Gorigan stepped out from his tent, sword in hand. Though his movements were unhurried, there was no mistaking the readiness in his stance. Whatever his flaws, the man was clearly no stranger to the battlefield.
The knights of the Ayub Kingdom, loyal to the princess, scrambled to arm themselves. Their preparations were sluggish at best. By the time they managed to assemble, Gorigan and his men had already moved out.
”So much for discipline,” Auroora muttered.
”They never learn,” grumbled one of her knights. “They sleep dressed as they are, thinking it’s efficient, but all it does is leave them unrested.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. The Ayub army, equipped for a prolonged campaign, had taken care to establish proper tents and rest stations. Gorigan’s contingent, in contrast, had settled in without even bothering with shelter. Aside from the baron himself, his soldiers merely wrapped themselves in cloaks and found whatever rock or root offered cover. The mercenaries from the Vespar Kingdom had followed suit, and now, roused by the noise, they were leaping to their feet, blades drawn, charging into the dark with wild eyes.
Beyond the edge of camp, magical flares lit up the sky, bursting in rapid succession. The pale surfaces of the craggy mountain walls across the valley reflected the light, casting flickering black silhouettes that danced like phantoms. Mistaking the shifting shadows for enemies, the mercenaries unleashed a volley of arrows.
Above, the sky teemed with flocks of crows, startled and screeching as they spiraled overhead. In their panic, some soldiers began to fire into the air at the birds, only fueling the cacophony. The more they shot, the louder the crows cried. Chaos had gripped the entire camp like a fever.
The truth was simple and absurd: the ruckus had started with the crows. Alarmed by a strange noise, they had erupted all at once into a deafening frenzy. The soldiers, mistaking the uproar for an enemy ambush, panicked—some even turning on one another in confusion.
”Stop! Don’t panic!” a commander’s voice roared above the fray. “Even if we’re under attack, the enemy won’t be limitless! Look before you strike—do you want to kill your own?!”
”Hold your arrows! That’s just shadow play! The wards are still intact—nothing’s breached the perimeter!”
Gradually, with the arrival of officers and field leaders, the disarray began to subside. But by then, the damage had been done. Over a hundred men were injured or dead—and not a single enemy had touched them. Every casualty was the result of friendly fire.
”You fools! Can’t tell friend from foe?” one knight shouted bitterly. “Wasting lives over shadows!”
”The healers are spent,” another called. “Use potions if you’re wounded—we can’t afford to wait.”
It was a grim night. And it had all stemmed from disorganization—this was a coalition army in name only, with no cohesion and no shared protocol.
The troops, apart from those from Ayub, wore a chaotic mix of armor and gear. The mercenaries, hired from across distant lands, could not even understand each other’s words. When faced with a blade pointed their way, they chose to strike first and ask questions never.
Baron Gorigan’s face was drawn and pale, the exhaustion and shock clear even beneath the flickering torchlight. Losing ten percent of the force before a single battle had been fought—that was no trivial matter. Their campaign had been meant to seize Kasgar without spilling unnecessary blood. If casualties continued to mount at this rate, the entire endeavor could collapse.
For Gorigan, the implications were dire. The baron had staked vast sums on this campaign, borrowing heavily to fund his troops. A prolonged war, or even a pyrrhic victory, would ruin him.
”This is spiraling out of control…” he muttered. “Should we withdraw before the damage deepens?”
Princess Auroora remained silent, her expression unreadable.
The Kingdom of Ayub was not a wealthy nation. Even their current participation in this war had been secured only through careful budgeting and reallocation of limited resources. To turn back now, empty-handed, would be devastating. But even so, compared to Baron Gorigan, the kingdom still had a bit of economic breathing room.
”Your Highness, wait!” one of Gorigan’s officers called out, panting as he approached. “Our forces have already taken Hollowvale Tower. It’s far closer than pulling back. We should regroup there!”
He pointed off toward the east. “The area is surrounded by toxic marshlands. No place for enemy archers to hide. It’s defensible.”
”But if we push deeper into enemy land and isolate ourselves, we risk being cut off,” Auroora warned. “Is that not reckless?”
”There’s no need for concern,” the officer replied with a confident smirk. “Duke Mineley is a coward. The man wouldn’t move his army even if his lands were burning. The resistance we’re seeing now—just desperate local militia. If we torch a village or two as an example, they’ll scatter.”
The princess did not answer immediately. She had read the reports on Duke Mineley.
By all accounts, the man lacked both courage and ambition. He was spineless, the sort who would offer up land or coin if pushed hard enough. He barely deserved his title. Incompetent and ignorant to the core.
Though Duke Mineley’s cowardice grated on her, Princess Auroora found she couldn’t mock him too harshly. After all, her own brother—King Ayub, the newly crowned monarch of the Auroora Kingdom—was hardly an inspiring figure himself.
Ever since the coronation, the real burden of governance had fallen squarely on the princess’s shoulders. As regent, she’d taken up the reins of power, managing the kingdom with a level-headedness her brother sorely lacked. Ayub’s affections for his older sister bordered on childish dependency, but they were genuine, and in their own way, endearing.
When Baron Gorigan presented his proposal, even the ever-cautious princess felt her interest stir. If a stronghold had already been secured, then perhaps the plan wasn’t as reckless as it first appeared.
”The matter of Hollowvale warrants consideration,” she said, folding her hands over the map laid out before her. “But I will not tolerate harm to the people. It would be folly to provoke hatred. If the previous lord ruled in ignorance, then perhaps sound governance will earn their trust.”
”The mine is what matters,” Gorigan countered bluntly. “There’s no need to waste thought on commoners if they’ll be used up in the end.”
Auroora suppressed a sigh. The baron couldn’t see past immediate profit. Once the mine ran dry, he’d abandon it without a second thought. She considered explaining—but knew it would fall on deaf ears.
Too many men thought only of the short term. Surrounded by such people, the princess felt quietly isolated. Was there no one who shared her vision?
She turned back to the map, her voice firm. “Our main force will wait near the Unicorn Spring, then rendezvous with the light cavalry. Baron Gorigan, make contact with Hollowvale’s forces in advance. I want a detailed update on the current situation.”
Her decisive tone snapped the room to attention. Vague confusion turned into brisk action as subordinates dispersed to carry out orders. Gorigan offered no complaint. At dawn, his men would depart.
Thanks to the princess’s liberal use of recovery potions, many wounded had pulled through. Evacuation efforts were already underway. Even those who’d escaped injury found little rest—the whole camp buzzed with urgent movement.
* * *
What in the world had happened?
I’d only fired a sound bolt to harass the enemy, but it had thrown them into total disarray. Their formation broke apart strangely after that—like ants swarming without purpose.
My Radar Scan wasn’t ideal for reading the full battlefield. It could pinpoint specific signatures, but the bigger picture stayed elusive. There was a famous skill called “Thousand-Mile Eyes” that excelled at recon during war. I’d heard of it—something like a long-range drone with a high-res camera, maybe?
If I had a skill like that, I’d definitely shop around for a cushy job. It was rare, and apparently, having it meant people came begging to hire you.
From what I could tell, Gorigan’s troops were currently locked in close combat. It looked like a melee, maybe triggered by Mineley’s self-defense forces. If anyone had approached the camp, I should’ve sensed it—unless I’d missed it while asleep.
Yeah… that’s probably it. I was out cold until just before the bolt.
Up above, the night sky was alive with birds—small, dark forms flitting between the trees. Were those crows? Probably mountain crows from this region. They were tiny compared to the ones back in Japan, but still let out that familiar “ka-ka” cry… only higher-pitched, almost like eerie laughter.
I’d heard they were edible when grilled, but something about eating crow didn’t sit right with me.
Still, the whole situation felt like poking a hornet’s nest. I needed to find someone important—someone calling the shots.
There was a large, lavish tent near the center of the camp, clearly designed to impress. It was also, predictably, empty. A decoy. The enemy wasn’t stupid—they knew how to guard against night raids.
I’d seen someone who looked like Gorigan earlier, but the leadership structure seemed more complex than expected. There were others who gave off similar commanding energy. Maybe the enemy operated under multiple command systems? That would explain the layers.
Among the mana signatures, I picked up the presence of a few women. Their magical flow was lighter, more refined—easier to distinguish once you got used to it.
I found myself curious about them. I wanted to see their faces, to get a sense of who they were—but Radar Scan couldn’t capture expressions. At most, it gave a fuzzy, grayscale mental snapshot. Like looking at a washed-out photo.
Still, if they got close enough, I might risk sneaking in for a better look.
Knowing women were among the enemy made things strangely difficult. A hesitation I didn’t expect crept into my chest. It felt… wrong to aim a weapon at them.
In anime, female warriors were nothing new. I’d never given it much thought watching from the sidelines. But now that I was actually here, poised to fight them—it didn’t sit well.
I couldn’t stop wondering—if Ms. Nina stood on the other side of the battlefield, could I raise my hand against her?
The image of the enemy female knight blurred into Nina’s face. Not just in features, but in posture, in spirit. I shook the thought, but it lingered. Would she be the kind to shout at orcs to end her life rather than be taken prisoner? Ms. Shirakaba might say something like that too…
That reminded me of the orc woman Schulz had left with me. She was tall—massive, even—but oddly graceful. Almost like an elf. Her bronze skin gleamed with a warm luster, evoking something closer to a dark elf than a monster.
Inside the magic bag, several women from Schulz’s “collection” remained sealed in stasis, their bodies frozen mid-motion by fixed magic. One day, I’d release them. Eventually.
But not now. I was too busy, too overwhelmed. Orcs were powerful, dangerous creatures. If they broke free, it’d be chaos. And besides, once I released the magic, I wouldn’t be able to put them back into the bag unless they trusted me.
No, that was something to deal with later—after things calmed down. Maybe at Uno’s place, when everything was safer.
That said… the more I told myself “not now,” the more a strange pull stirred inside me.
I realized something.
Maybe I’d been under more stress than I thought these past few days.
My judgment was slipping. I could feel it.
And before I knew it—almost without meaning to—I’d pulled the orc girl out of the bag.
Damn it. Seriously?
What am I even doing…?
This wasn’t the time. Not with the battlefield still smoldering, and the night yet to pass.
I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to shake off the rising tension. Maybe I just needed some sleep. Yeah, that was it.
Still, I had already prepared all the necessary equipment for the orc girl. After numerous trials and refinements, everything was ready. That much, at least, posed no problem.
Ideally, she’d willingly become my ally. But whether or not things would go that smoothly remained to be seen. This was a high-risk, high-reward gamble. Even in her immobilized state, she should retain consciousness. So, I decided to speak with her. If I couldn’t persuade her while she was unable to move, what chance would I have afterward?
”Ms. Orc, you can hear me, right? I swear I won’t do anything to harm you. Please—just trust me and listen to what I have to say.”
Her physique was breathtaking—voluptuous and imposing, yet graced with the elegance of femininity. A harmony of powerful muscle and refined curves. There was something almost too perfect about her form, but even that lent her an artificial, ethereal charm.
Uncertain where to rest my eyes, I gently laid her atop a cushion and draped a blanket over her. The scene might have looked questionable to an outsider, but there was no ill intent—this was simply the best I could do under the circumstances.
”Um… If you’re willing, I’d be grateful if you could help with physically demanding tasks. In exchange, I’ll provide food, clothing, and shelter. I’d also like to go over your working conditions. If anything feels unfair, please speak up—I promise to address it properly.”
The bitter memory of Ms. Joa the centaur escaping still lingered. I thought I’d built some level of trust with Ms. Claire as well, but apparently my communication had fallen short.
Thanks to my cheat-like skill, Mind Communication, I was determined not to repeat the same mistake.
Starting negotiations with employment terms probably wasn’t the most romantic approach to winning over a beautiful girl, but it felt necessary. This orc girl had been frozen for a long time. In the present day, she was all alone. What she needed first and foremost was a foundation for her new life.
”Also, um… You’re beautiful, so I think you’ll be fine, but… some people in this world still hold prejudice against orcs. To keep you safe, there may be times I need to store you in my magic bag. I promise it’s completely safe. So please—trust me, just a little.”
I gently took her hand and spoke to her, voicing whatever thoughts came to mind. More than anything, I wanted to convey that I held no hostility.
Even monsters have reasons for their actions. If their rampages stem from fear or misunderstanding, then perhaps a sincere conversation could bridge that gap. But if she viewed humans only as prey, I’d be out of options. Still, she felt more like a synthetic human than a wild beast. The chances of that seemed low.
While I was speaking, I realized something: during her frozen state, she had likely been subjected to various experiments by Schulz. If so, she might harbor resentment toward me just by association. I needed to distinguish myself from Schulz—not through lies, but by preventing any misunderstanding.
The orc girl’s stiff hand slowly grew warm and relaxed in my grasp. Then, quietly, she began to squeeze mine in return. Her hands were large but soft—astonishingly smooth, without a single callus. Almost like the palm of a newborn child.
”Are you all right? Can you move?”
”Yes. Please give me your orders, Master.”
With elegance belying her powerful frame, the tall girl rose and knelt before me, lowering her head in a gesture of respect. It was a form of etiquette I didn’t recognize, but it suited her somehow.
Being called “Master” so suddenly was a bit of a shock. Come to think of it, orcs were originally engineered as a subjugated species. Perhaps the title was a result of Schulz formally transferring her to me. Whatever the reason, my reckless gamble had somehow paid off. Despite the risks, it had worked. I’d gained an assistant with monstrous strength.
* * *
Hmm… Maybe I should launch an Indra Gun into enemy lines again. It’s been a while. Tactics like that work best when unexpected.
The orc girl showed no sign of discomfort as she stood there unclothed, her expression calm. Wasn’t she cold? When I handed her the undergarments I had prepared, she examined them briefly before putting them on herself. Her composure and self-sufficiency hinted at high intelligence.
The shoes would need some minor adjustments. With changes at this level, simply replacing the insoles should suffice. No serious issues.
I had sized her while she was immobilized, but a person’s foot shape alters under pressure. A skilled shoemaker accounts for that. I still had a lot to learn.
As for the armor—it had been forged by melting down scrap mithril using salamander flames. It wasn’t self-repairing, since it was the regenerative kind, but it was light and durable. In the thickest parts, I’d used a hollow, sponge-like structure to reduce weight further. The result was armor that could even float, doubling as a life jacket. If I carved in the proper magic formations to match her abilities, its performance would increase even more.
The design was inspired by Ms. Nina’s custom equipment. Focused on structural integrity, it ended up looking a little clunky—but I considered that part of its charm. There was a certain aesthetic to the utilitarian, mass-produced look.
Oh, and I’d also finished preparing gear for the goblin girl. Come to think of it, I’d forgotten about it after running out of materials while making the ogre girl’s underwear.
If all of the divine constructs turned out to be as obedient as this orc girl, unfreezing them all would grant an enormous boost in strength. But first—I needed to make clothes for them.
The ogres were already massive, and the gigas… well, their underwear was the size of a tent. Without a sewing machine, even crafting a single set took an entire day.
Once I finalized the designs, though, I could place future orders through Mr. Simonov or Mr. Munin. It would cost money, but I had enough. It might even stimulate the local economy.
Armor for the gigas… At that size, it was practically a giant robot. The idea alone made my heart race. But would the remaining scrap mithril be enough? It was once treated as worthless industrial waste, so I’d obtained it cheaply—but if Mr. Zenom and I kept using it at this pace, our stockpile would be gone before long.
War really is a bottomless pit for resources.
Still, with the gigas, even being bare-skinned likely offered absurd levels of defense. That said, I had to consider the girl’s modesty. It wasn’t just about function.
Besides, it wouldn’t be wise to casually unleash a being described as a legendary strategic weapon on par with the Demon King. That level of strength was dangerous, no matter the context.
Even so, if I could gain the trust of a gigas, I’d still like to unfreeze her. I’d prepare all their equipment in one go next time I visited Uno’s place.
Speaking of which, I also needed to deliver the charged magic stone to Ms. Mahal soon. Tedious jobs were best handled in the Valley of Trials. At this point, the place had practically become my personal workshop. Uno seemed a bit fed up with it all. I should bring her a good souvenir next time—something nice to keep her in good spirits. Even if she saw through my motives, it was important to keep everyone happy.
Ms. Nina’s revival was almost upon us. Delivering the stone to Ms. Mahal would probably be the final task before that.
Ahh… I really have way too much on my plate. I need to put an end to this foolish war and return home. Fast.
Notes:
• Baron Gorigan – A neighboring noble, managing a modest but wealthy mine; involved in recent conflicts and associated with a noble family with historical ties to the royal family.
• Unicorn Spring – A renowned water source located beside a town road. It is a small spring with water trickling from a crack in a large rock, flowing into a stone basin. It is a vital resource for soldiers but has limited capacity, causing crowding and delays.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Kasgar – The capital of Duke Mineley Territory. Located in a mining region, it is known for its acetylene lamps and mica windows. The city is bustling, with taverns and merchants, but it lacks the exotic charm of the royal capital.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Schulz – A male dragon who collects human women and holds the rank of Duke within the Anti-Magic Alliance.
• Ms. Claire – 22-year-old centaur attendant to Joa, with a chestnut horse body and wavy hair. Level 18 mounted archer. Recently enslaved, retains her own will. Her bow skills are sealed due to subservience. Bought by the protagonist as a companion, alongside Joa
• Ms. Joa – 18-year-old noble centaur with a white horse body and silver hair. Level 15 junior knight. Recently enslaved, retains her own will. Her lance charge skill is sealed due to subservience. Bought by the protagonist as a companion, alongside Claire
• Mr. Simonov – Skilled tailor, Raia-Raia’s dad. Mildly enjoys Chicken Ham.
• Munin – 22-year-old genius leatherworker, trained in the royal capital. Tall, handsome, but volatile and jealous, especially about his wife, Flare. Top-class craftsman by human standards. Married to Flare, whom he accuses others of trying to seduce.
• Mr. Zenom – Tough dwarf blacksmith from Toyoata Village. Repairs weapons, improves accuracy. Charges 100 gold/arrow. Becomes protagonist’s strict master. Assigns hard tasks like pre-dawn cleaning, firewood, water pumping. Owns well-equipped forge. Challenges protagonist to prove ideas.
• Ms. Mahal – A talented alchemist and old friend of Mr. Zenom’s; she is knowledgeable about homunculi and leads the protagonist to a secret underground passage.
• Mahal – A talented alchemist and old friend of Mr. Zenom’s; she is knowledgeable about homunculi and leads the protagonist to a secret underground passage.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply