Chapter 101 Scolding Time
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The City Mayor said, “Tatara, your carelessness with those you’ve acknowledged as kin… no, that’s not quite right. Your lack of foresight is what I’m angry about this time,” and I found myself sitting properly on my knees, right there in front of her.
The thing she meant was my plan to install a teleportation gate at Dahlia-san’s family home — a place people called a backwater village. I had intended to put the gate on the land my mother-in-law had sold me, thinking it would be useful. Usefulness had made me careless. I had not asked permission from the most powerful ruler in the city, and installing a gate that led straight into the city without her okay was, of course, a crime. If that gate on the outside were taken over, it would let attackers into the city with no warning, and they could use my family’s home — the house that held the strongest defensive Ability in the city, the house — as a base. I did not want to even imagine that.
”Dahlia-san, where is your family home?” the Mayor asked.
”Dahlia-san answered, ‘Yes, my birthplace is about a week’s walk from here, according to the map.’”
The Mayor folded that answer into thought, her face not just thinking but combing through memory like someone pulling threads. After a moment she said, “…Technically, it’s within homeland territory, so it’s under the same jurisdiction. The problem is that a group of former mercenaries, who have settled into banditry, have started living in the vicinity.”
At the word “bandits,” I almost rose to my feet, every muscle ready. Calmys-san quietly pressed a hand to my shoulder, keeping me seated, though I hadn’t noticed her move. Dahlia-san, however, sat calm. She showed no visible worry. Either she trusted the people there more than I did, or she thought the threat too small to worry about.
”How large is the bandit group?” I asked.
”Not quite a hundred, probably around eighty,” the Mayor said.
Dahlia-san replied, “Then there’s no need to worry. My mother is in my hometown.”
She said it without hesitation. Her mother, they said, was an Automaton Maiden. With a Magic Device at her command, she would not lose to ordinary humans. Still, the bandits’ numbers mattered. Numbers and cruel tricks couldn’t be ignored. Bandits took prisoners and set traps. If a single weak point existed in our party, if someone could stop me, Ethelena could fail and everything could fall apart. Our group was strong; by design, everyone else was stronger than me. That made me the fragile link. Only Ichika, maybe, understood strategy well enough to counter trickery. We were an explorer party, not an army of plots, and yet the world found ways to be unfair.
”I’ve heard about that,” the Mayor said, nodding. “They call her a Destruction Maiden who goes alone and smashes towns where runaways gather.”
”…It’s painful to know about my own mother’s dark past,” Dahlia-san said, and the corner of my mouth almost lifted in a dry smile. In this city, every famous explorer had a shameful tale. My parents, after their deaths, were titled ‘Twin Shields’ for protecting many. Yet all I ever wanted was to come home alive.
”If they really attacked the village, we could put restrictions on the teleportation gate and that might be enough,” the Mayor continued. “Tatara, do you have any ideas?”
”I have ideas, but…they might be useless,” I said.
”Aren’t you usually the one with wild, rule-breaking ideas?” the Mayor teased.
”Not when the enemy has an Automaton Maiden,” I said. “If they can take control of the Magic Device, normal measures won’t help.”
I named the usual defenses: biometric locks, Mana recognition, entering coordinates and PINs each time — simple, common things. But an Automaton Maiden that could control a Magic Device would make those measures meaningless. Still, there were ways.
”If no one else understands Spell Formula better than you, there are ways to make it work,” I said. “You can make a lock that only reacts when the key’s Mana wavelength matches the registrant, or force coordinate entry every use, or record biological data so only the registered person can pass.”
The Mayor’s eyes showed a flicker of relief. “So you can make that?”
”Yes. Tatara-san, I’ll pay you to make a prototype teleportation gate with those functions,” my mother-in-law said, but I ignored her interruption.
Security for a teleportation gate needed to be tight, like airport security in my old life. In this world, everyone had Inventory—a magic space to hide things—so body checks were useless. The gate itself had to be the secure point. I considered marking people and tracking them from our gate to pop in near them, but that left the marked person with no way home, defeating the purpose.
”Don’t teach Tatara how to make teleportation magic,” the Mayor said, smiling in a warning. “He might build simple personal gates.”
”If it is for protecting important people, it could be given as an emergency escape device,” I said. “Combine teleportation with escape spells and you can break weak seals. I can picture children fleeing from their parents using it.” My words came out dry, and the mother-in-law’s embarrassment showed as she puckered her lips in a silent pout.
”If you know the Spell Formula, you could make a wearable personal marker,” someone asked — I realized Dahlia-san was looking at me.
”That’s easier than a personal gate,” I said. “A marker only needs the owner’s Mana to send coordinates. The teleportation gate only needs to have a receiver for that signal.”
The rest was simple: make the marker, pair it to the gate, and sync them in under a minute.
Dahlia-san heard me and spoke slowly. “If you make a one-way personal gate and matching tracking markers, I have no problem.”
”…So the idea is to give the parent a marker, have them move away, and then the parent uses the one-way personal gate to come back here?” I said, checking I had the plan straight.
”Yes,” she said. “This way we prevent reverse incursions from the teleport destination. That should solve the problems you worried about, City Mayor-sama.”
It was flattering and terrifying that they trusted my skill. If the Spell Formula was solved, my work could immediately reduce the risk to Whirlwind. The big question was: which Spell Formula would we use?
”…sigh. Tatara, I will formally ask you to develop it,” the Mayor said at last.
”Really? You will?” I heard hope in my own voice.
”Yes,” she said. “A one-way personal gate and a tracking marker. If we hesitate now, other nations’ important people will ask you first.”
She glanced at my mother-in-law, who sulked with her lips still in a pout. The Mayor’s gaze returned to me, steady and final, and I felt my chest tighten — responsibility settling like weight. I could make the devices if the spells were known, but making something that others would trust felt heavier than building anything.
I folded my hands on my knees, feeling the floor’s cool hard grain press into my palms. Outside the discussion, the room’s air seemed to hold its breath. Calmys-san’s hand had not left my shoulder; Dahlia-san’s face was calm as stone. The Mayor watched me with an expression that would not let me refuse.
My mind ticked through formulas, components, and the flow of Mana. My fingers itched with memories of solder and rune-etched metal, while a tiny Mana Stone for single-use gates pulsed in my thoughts like a promise.
I mouthed a single word: “Understood,” and the sound of my own voice felt small. The Mayor smiled briefly, like a blade’s flash, and turned the conversation to logistics. I remained kneeling, palms warm from the floor, tasting iron and resolve.
”To be ignored by my cute son-in-law—how could that not hurt?” my mother-in-law said with a wounded sigh.
”Uh… dragging you into this talk just feels wrong somehow,” I muttered.
”And besides, this means you won’t be buying that teleportation gate from Hizuru, will you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
She had a point. Since I was using my own Spell Formula now, I didn’t need Hizuru’s at all. No reason to buy, no reason to install.
”Yeah,” I admitted. “Not needed anymore.”
She groaned softly. “And here I thought I’d finally have enough power to test a home Mana Reactor properly.”
”You’ll have to reach that on your own,” I said.
She had my old recipes and a replica of my workbench anyway. If she wanted to make the “Alchemist’s Egg,” she could do it herself.
Then the Mayor turned to me. “Tatara, what kind of deal did you make when you bought that teleportation gate?”
”Uh… a trade worth about three hundred million.”
”And what exactly did you trade?”
This felt way too much like when I used to hide bad test results from my mother and she’d find out anyway.
”Um… those ‘eggs’…” I mumbled.
Her eyes narrowed. “How many?”
”T-Ten, maybe…”
She shut her eyes, inhaled deep—and then exploded.
”You! What do you think the value of what you make even is!?” her voice thundered, shaking the room.
”Eek! I’m sorry, Mom!” I yelped.
”I’m not your mother! I’m still a virgin!!”
I froze. Wrong thing to say. My brain screamed for mercy as the City Mayor glared like a god of wrath. Sure, I’d nearly sent ten of those ‘eggs’ overseas, but still—this level of yelling made me shrink into a child again.
From the side, I heard Ethelena whisper, “Wait, so she’s still a virgin?”
”Past the expiration date?” Nina murmured back.
I wanted to bury my face. “Hey! Stop whispering! She can hear you!” I hissed. Too late—the Mayor’s fury looked ready to pierce the heavens.
”My personal life is not the issue right now!” she snapped.
”Then why bring it u—”
Her glare hit me. “Ahn?”
”Nothing,” I said fast.
Terrifying. Just terrifying.
”I didn’t get married because I didn’t want to, not because I couldn’t,” she said firmly. “My younger brother took over the family line, and my sisters married and had children. The noble bloodline’s secure.”
”R-right.”
She went on, sounding like someone defending herself more than explaining. My instincts warned me—shut up or die.
”I still get marriage proposals, you know. Though they’re all from men older than me.”
”Ah, I see.”
Probably offers for appearance’s sake, I thought. She was beautiful and capable, but too independent for young nobles who liked fragile girls.
”Why not marry the old man then?” I said before thinking.
”Father Lord, married? I can’t picture that,” Tatia said, frowning.
She had a point. The man was like a mountain—solid, unmoving, impossible to picture in a tuxedo. Still, rumors said he and the Mayor were classmates, the same age. Maybe once upon a time…
”Rogas?” the Mayor said flatly. “He’s off the list. I know what he was like back in school.”
Her tone darkened. What had Rogas done back then?
”There was someone more popular than him anyway,” she added after a pause. “Most girls hid it, but still.”
”Wait, someone more popular than Rogas!?” I blurted. The guy had been top of the exploration class, top grades, top looks. Hard to beat that.
”Who was it?” I asked.
She gave me a look like she’d swallowed something bitter. “Your father.”
I choked. “Huh!?”
A murmur of surprise spread through the room—some nodding, some unsurprised. Even Ethelena gave a small “makes sense” noise. But what caught my ear was another voice.
”Albert-san, you knew my father was popular back then?” I asked.
Albert nodded. “Oh, yes. He didn’t show it, but plenty of people liked him.”
If even Albert, who was younger, said so… what kind of student had my dad been?
The Mayor went on, voice softer now. “You know your father and Rogas were close friends, right?”
”I heard they were on good terms, but not that close.”
”They were called the odd pair of our class—the top and the bottom, Rogas and your father.”
I blinked. I’d thought Rogas handled my parents’ funeral out of duty, but it was friendship—real, old friendship.
”And your father,” she said, exhaling, “used to say ‘I want to be popular’ like it was his mantra. Always the clown.”
”…Wow.”
Sure, he ended up marrying Mom, so maybe it worked out. But still—ouch.
”His idea of being charming was completely wrong,” she went on. “Corny lines, flashy, tasteless clothes—you couldn’t even look.”
”I’m getting secondhand pain just hearing this,” I muttered. My heart twinged like I was watching my own embarrassing teenage self.
Albert laughed softly. “But he was always sincere, Tatara-kun. Kind to everyone. The younger students—boys and girls alike—admired him.”
Rachel nodded. “And when he praised someone, it was never fake. His words always felt real.”
Around us, everyone—Ethelena, Yohira, Ichika, even the loud idiots—nodded in agreement. Great. So my dad had charmed an entire generation.
Then the Acting Head of Family said thoughtfully, “Tatara-dono, it seems your father’s blood runs strong in you.”
”And in refinement, you’ve stripped away the awkwardness and reached the finished form,” my mother-in-law added with a smile.
Why was I being lumped in with him!?
”I’ve never flirted with anyone just to be popular!” I protested.
Tatia tilted her head. “You compliment people so naturally it creates affection. That’s exactly like him.”
That stabbed right through my heart. “Tatia! Don’t just say that out loud!”
Then, from somewhere behind me, I heard myself ask before I could stop: “Wait… City Mayor, did you maybe… have a crush on my father?”
”…”
”Please tell me no!” I begged.
She frowned but didn’t answer. My voice cracked into a small, horrified scream. “No way—!”
”That was long ago,” she said finally, quieter now. “When I hesitated to take the position of City Mayor, he’s the one who pushed me forward.”
”You… hesitated?” I asked, surprised.
”I was a lovely maiden back then,” she said with a half-smile. “Not the woman who’s tasted both the sweet and the bitter of politics.”
Everyone went silent. Somehow her story felt heavier than she meant it to.
Then she looked back at me. “Tatara, how much do you remember of your parents?”
I lowered my eyes. “Honestly… every time I try to remember, my chest still hurts.”
I couldn’t clearly remember their faces or voices. I knew my parents loved me with bright warmth, but the moments—the real memories—slipped away whenever I tried to grasp them. Each attempt left my chest aching so badly I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t ready to face that yet.
”I see,” the City Mayor said softly. “Don’t force yourself.”
Her expression turned faintly sad. Maybe she felt guilty, as if her own presence in my life had overwritten the memory of my real parents.
Then she cleared her throat. “Anyway, that aside—”
I blinked. “Um, about those ‘eggs’… if you could let me see the nation’s teleportation Spell Formula, I could—”
”Forget it,” she interrupted quickly.
”Ah, you mean the missing report from the development files,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
She gave me a look. “You already know, then. The staged pressure increase and release control—honestly, even looking at the Spell Formula, it’s hard to understand. Can it be used for anything besides cooking?”
”If I wanted, I could turn it into a weapon.”
”How exactly?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
”Pack the inside with small iron balls, overpressurize, then trigger an explosion. Basically the same as that Shape Memory Alloy disaster I caused on purpose this time.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare. I still see that in my nightmares.”
I chuckled nervously and took a sip from the cup in front of me. Even with just one drink, the warmth of alcohol blurred my focus, and I couldn’t think of more peaceful applications right away.
Then Dahlia-san raised her hand. “Master, could you fit that pressurized iron-ball launcher into my Arcane Armor’s weapon system?”
I winced. “That’s a combination straight out of a nightmare—like a landmine welded to a pile driver. Every military council on the continent would ban it.”
Her eyes sparkled in a way that told me she’d already pictured it. My mind, meanwhile, flashed back to the giant mechanical dolls I used to love in another life. The name “pile driver” alone carried a dangerous kind of nostalgia.
”Besides,” I added, “the iron balls can’t just be any iron. They need the right hardness and weight. Even Mithril wouldn’t hit that hard.”
”Really?” she asked.
”Yeah. Demonsteel’s better suited for that kind of impact,” I said.
Projectile power depends not only on speed and hardness but also on mass. Heavy shots deliver more destructive energy. Mithril was light—less than a third the weight of iron but three or four times harder. Back on Earth, that would make it about twenty percent harder than diamond. Sounds good, right? But in this world, monsters were too tough for that to matter. Unless you hit a vital spot, they wouldn’t die. Hard and light projectiles pierce well but don’t kill cleanly. It’s like how a 5.56mm assault rifle bullet works fine on humans but is too weak for beasts. That’s why Arcane Guns here use plain iron—cheap, dense, and deadly enough. Funny thing, though—I’ve never even seen lead in this world.
”If you want something fancy,” I went on, “you could make a shrapnel shell for Arcane Armor artillery—something that explodes near the target and sprays fragments. Safer, too.”
”Master!” Dahlia’s voice brightened like a child’s.
”You can have it,” I said, “but it’ll cost you.”
Truth was, I was the only one who could make those, so the price per round ran around a hundred thousand. The last time I’d shown the City Mayor my concept for them, she’d literally tried to strangle me—right after that Shape Memory Alloy nightmare, no less. To this day, I still think choking me was unnecessary.
Dahlia pouted. “Then… are there no other physical projectile ideas full of romance and power?”
”Not really. You already saw the Fluid Mana Stone rounds,” I said.
I had once made a kind of explosive armor-piercing bullet for pistols, inspired by a manga and an old movie I’d loved. I’d filled the cores with mercury and glowing paint to work against monsters instead of people. It was meant for fantasy, but it fit this world far too well. Both stories, funnily enough, had been about vampires.
”Come on,” I said. “‘Elingium’ alone is romantic enough.”
”No, Master! Explosion and fire have their own kind of romance!” Dahlia protested.
”I get that,” I said with a sigh.
From the corner of my eye, the Acting Head of Family nodded deeply in agreement. Of course—she loved the armor rack I’d built her.
”Isn’t a flying, state-of-the-art Arcane Armor romantic enough for you?” I asked.
Tatara-san—meaning me—had barely finished before my mother-in-law leaned forward. “Wait, a flying Arcane Armor? Explain that in detail.”
”Master,” Dahlia said, “if my power comes from the ‘egg,’ wouldn’t it be a waste not to go all in—more weapons, more hard-hitting magic, more everything?”
”Don’t talk about weapons like they’re toppings on a meal,” I said. “And what does ‘harder’ even mean—extra armor plating?”
Her eyes gleamed. “Tempting.”
”You mean detachable parts? Blow off the joints if unnecessary and purge the armor?”
”Yes!” the Acting Head of Family said eagerly. “I’d love to see that!”
”I agree,” my mother-in-law added seriously. “Such a sight would be pure romance. Even my Machine God within says so.”
Both kept adding comments, their eyes glittering with curiosity and chaos. I sighed. Dahlia’s Arcane Armor was becoming a walking fortress. Soon, storing her gear in Inventory and deploying it would be more efficient. She was dangerously close to becoming a flying mech from an old simulation game. Knowing Dahlia, she might make it work out of sheer love for her Magic Devices.
”Tatara,” the City Mayor said sharply, “why are you discussing tactical weapons in front of me?”
”Because with the teleportation marker and the one-way gate, we could already do it. One soldier slips in, opens a gate, and the army comes through. Add a timed Spell Formula to erase evidence, and the whole thing’s secure,” I explained.
”Stop suggesting sneak-attack strategies so casually!” she snapped.
She wasn’t wrong. The combination of teleport markers and portable gates was an elegant military concept. Giving an Arcane Armor squad direct Mana linkage to their gates minimized information leaks. With a time-delay trigger, fallen armors could be retrieved or self-destructed for secrecy. It was practical and terrifying to any enemy nation.
”If our royal family ever heard that idea,” the Mayor warned, “they’d lock you up for ‘development and operation planning.’”
”Development I get,” I said, “but why operation planning?”
”Because even if you can’t fight yourself, the idea of that strategy alone is gold. You probably don’t realize it, but if someone sent one of our royals through that kind of assault gate, they could wipe out another nation single-handedly.”
”Our royals are strategic weapons now?” I asked weakly.
Well, maybe she wasn’t exaggerating. In sheer personal power, the current royal family’s heads weren’t the strongest in history—but even so, the founder of our kingdom had once faced the Demon Lord of Swords and survived. That was no small feat.
Textbooks still said that same founder, alone, had nearly annihilated the army of the previous emperor and forced a retreat from a general strong enough to nearly become a Demon Lord himself. Heroic nonsense or not, it was recorded history—and it made me wonder if any of us really wanted to hand such people a teleport gate.
If they ever sent the former Emperor—Your Majesty—into an enemy country, even weakened with age, that alone would end a war. He could seize a whole city single-handedly. Considering the time he abdicated after the empire became the current realm, the present Emperor’s strength would be around his post-journey peak. Back in the game, his unique skill brought down entire battalions with artillery fire; he could crush named knights like flies. If he fought ‘Whirlwind’ at full force, we’d all be wiped out.
His childhood sweetheart and wife had strengthened his Sex Sorcery, too—so even Ethelena’s advantages would be erased.
Dahlia might surpass him in raw stats, but that Emperor’s skill and tactical sense would overturn everything. Yohira’s ‘Concept Appraisal’ could work, yet if she realized she couldn’t face him directly, she’d resort to shadow bombardment to suppress the field. As for Calmys-san, she might hold him off for a while, but victory? No chance.
Yeah. He’s a walking strategic weapon. One man equal to an army. Like some white devil or wild-haired ace pilot from an old war story.
And he wouldn’t even be alone. He’d be followed by his wives—each one terrifying in her own right.
A Succubus who fought on the front lines with a greatsword and disrupted foes through Sex Sorcery.
A half-Elf who wielded both twin blades and a bow, mastering summoning magic for every range.
A Dwarf engineer and Alchemist, strong enough to break walls or rebuild them mid-battle.
A saint of the dark goddess who could resurrect the dead within three minutes.
And the Emperor himself—no joke—could end nations.
That’s just the bare minimum. Add in the Demon Lord who once opposed him but now watches over his wife out of respect, or the dragon princess who married in from the dragon realm—each a top-tier monster of power. At that point, only the Archangels or the ‘poster girls’ could even match them. Surrendering would be the smartest move. Maybe the very first hero of legend could win—but the collateral damage alone would level the city.
This world’s broken. That’s not a hero party, that’s a cheat code.
”If they ever locked me up for my inventions, I couldn’t pass my knowledge down,” I sighed. “I couldn’t even teach Shamir or Est.”
The City Mayor smirked. “Knowing you, they’d probably try to turn you into a saint somewhere.”
”Not possible at the war god’s temple,” I said dryly. “I’m too weak for that.”
Calmys-san spoke up. “Julon could become a saint of the forge, though. It’s rare, but not impossible.”
”Wait—what!?” I blurted.
I hadn’t expected that. I didn’t need saint potential! Plus, I could sense the war god’s clergy and the Maidens’ sect would brawl if they met. No idea why, but it felt inevitable.
”So… you’re just fine with being locked up, then?” the Mayor asked.
”If resisting would hurt the people I care about, then yes. I’d accept it,” I said simply.
She nodded slowly. “That’s fair. Ethelena or Yohira-jou could be taken hostage, after all.”
I blinked. “City Mayor, you and Calmys-san count as that ‘important’ group too, you know.”
”Eh? Us?”
Of course. They looked surprised, but it was obvious. They’d both looked after me like family.
”Tatia too,” I added.
Tatia smiled. “Of course. We’re a party, aren’t we?”
”And Albert-san’s family too,” I said.
Albert chuckled. “Oh? We’re included as well?”
”Naturally. You’ve helped me more than you realize.”
Rachel smiled warmly. “That makes me happy to hear.”
I met their eyes and smiled. Glancing at the group’s idiot, he turned away, ears red. Typical.
”This city holds too many people I care about,” I said quietly. “I can’t let my mistakes put it in danger.”
The Mayor folded her arms, lips curling faintly. “Nice words—but your inventions have nearly caused disasters before, you know.”
”Yes, ma’am,” I said quickly. “Sorry.”
She exhaled. “Alright. Let’s end the scolding here.”
”That would be nice,” I said, relief leaking into my voice. The so-called ‘lecture time’ had drifted miles off-topic halfway through anyway.
”All that shouting made me hungry,” she said with a sigh.
”I’ll cut the tuna,” I offered, standing up.
”That’s fine, but I want something else this time.”
I froze mid-motion as she stopped me.
”Ah, then it’s perfect timing,” Ethelena said from the kitchen doorway. “The beef stew Tatara asked for is ready. I’ll heat it and bring it out.”
That made sense. Today was a feast day—eat, talk, eat again. A flavor change fit the Mayor’s mood perfectly.
”Beef stew?” she said, tilting her head. “Why that, Tatara?”
”In my home, we made it at year’s end or after something important finished,” I said. “I wanted you and my Master to taste it.”
”Master?” she asked sharply.
”Yes. Amatsu-shi from Hizuru—the blacksmith. She’s the one who taught me sword forging. I called her Master once as a joke, and she accepted, so it stuck.”
The Mayor sighed. “You becoming someone’s disciple… that’s saying a lot.”
”She’s the best blacksmith in Hizuru,” I said with a grin.
To be exact, she was a goddess of blacksmithing. The Mayor glanced her way; my Master calmly toasted a fish fin, pouring sake to make fin wine. Her divine skill wasn’t obvious in that scene.
”So, just how good is she?” the Mayor asked.
”Good enough to forge a blade that can cut the world with sharpness alone,” I said. “I still can’t replicate it.”
”You can’t?” she said, clearly shocked. “You?”
”Yeah. Me.”
To her, I was probably the highest-level craftsman around. The idea of me failing to copy someone’s technique must’ve been unimaginable.
”Wait,” she said suddenly. “That knife—you mean—”
”Yes. It’s what came from learning her sword-forging craft.”
”I tried an Appraisal on it,” she said, frowning, “and it had some weird Special Ability I couldn’t even identify.”
Ah, that.
”It’s a conceptual weapon,” I explained. “Normally, abilities like that take decades or even centuries to manifest. But by shaping the weapon around a concept, I can forge it directly.”
The Mayor’s eyes widened. “That’s something you only see on divine weapons.”
”Exactly,” I said. “If I direct the concept precisely, I can create one intentionally. That’s how I made that knife—for you.”
Her face twisted like she’d bitten a lemon. She did that a lot around me.
”So,” she said warily, “what concept is it?”
”It’s called Curse-Cleaver,” I said. “It cuts away all kinds of misfortune—curses, illnesses, anything that clings to a person’s life.”
She exhaled slowly. “You really have become something beyond human, haven’t you, Tatara?”
I smiled faintly. “I might follow a foreign god now, but I haven’t changed my race, City Mayor. Still the same me.”
Notes:
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi.
• Nina – A female companion who joins Ethelena in whispered remarks, questioning the Mayor’s personal life.
• Rogas – Tatara’s father friend.
• Albert – Male character who fondly recalls Tatara’s father’s sincerity and popularity. Valued member of Tatara’s circle; has significantly helped Tatara more than he realizes, embodying the city’s supportive community spirit.
• Rachel – Female character agreeing with Albert’s praise of Tatara’s father. Happy to join Tatara’s close-knit group. Sunny’s mother—grateful guest, financially struggling but resilient.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Amatsu – A master blacksmith and a female. Demonstrate forging skill to Tatara. The duel arises from Tatara’s request for guidance. Senior craftsman guiding Tatara. No kin known. Golden right eye and calm mastery define her.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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