Chapter 39 Wings That Swear an Oath
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I focused all my attention on Tatia’s wings as they spread wide in the courtyard, determined not to miss a single detail of their movement. Every flicker and shift etched itself into my mind while, at the same time, I constructed the spell formula.
The strain on my brain was immense. Blood-tears and a nosebleed ran freely, but I forced myself to ignore them. Through our engagement link, Ethelena poured her succubus healing into me, though she could barely keep up. Still, I refused to stop. I kept pushing the ‘Appraisal’ forward.
Wings and their synchronization.
The force field those wings created through magic.
How that force field interfered with the free mana of the sky.
I processed information as fast as I could, but after about five minutes, my body reached its limit. I collapsed to my knees.
”T-Tatara!”
Ethelena was the first to react, her voice trembling in panic. I wanted to tell her not to worry, but the pain in my head made it impossible to pretend.
Hearing her cry out, Tatia descended from the air.
”Tatara, are you okay!? You’re bleeding so much… Torakuma, give me some energy!”
”Mm. Take it.”
Ethelena pulled my head against her chest and, at the same time, drew life force from Torakuma. The combined strength of borrowed energy and succubus healing soothed me. The headache dulled, the bleeding slowed.
”Thank you. I’m all right now—both of you.”
”You’re not all right! You can’t push yourself that far!”
Maybe the pain had carried across our link. Ethelena’s desperate expression must have been born from that shared hurt.
”You don’t understand. When blood started running from your eyes, I was terrified! I was so… scared… ugh…”
Her emotions burst and she broke into tears. I could only pull her into my arms and whisper apologies again and again.
It had become a bad habit—recklessly endangering myself for research and development. Even back in the dungeon, I’d scared her half to death when it looked like I might not survive.
”I’m sorry, Ethelena. I really am.”
”You idiot, Tatara!”
She buried her face in me, vocabulary gone, and I stroked her hair as she cried.
I failed again. I never wanted to make her cry, yet my inability to value my own life always led to this. Maybe because I was a reincarnator, I treated my existence too lightly. I was certain I wouldn’t die from something like this, but that certainty wasn’t something I could expect others to share.
If someone says you’re precious, you need to treat yourself that way too. Otherwise, you’re betraying the care they give you.
”Promise you won’t do this again?”
”…I’m sorry. I can’t promise that. If this is the only way to save you or the others, I won’t hesitate.”
”Then… at least hold back during crafting. If you have to do it, keep it short.”
”…All right. No more than three minutes.”
Three minutes—the point before blood-tears began to fall. Beyond that, the strain grew exponentially worse, like what had just happened.
”Then… pinky swear.”
”Yeah. Pinky swear.”
She raised her little finger, and I hooked mine with it. Together, we chanted the childish rhyme.
”Finger cut, ten thousand fists.”
”…A curse.”
”If you lie…”
”…The reason for the vow.”
”…A thousand needles.”
”…A thousand days of breasts.”
Wait.
”…Drink them.”
Hold on. Did she just say something strange?
”Finger sealed.”
Our pinkies parted, and I felt something binding us together.
No, seriously—did she just throw that in at the most serious moment possible?
”…Ethelena, what did you just say?”
”Hm? I said ‘a thousand days of breasts.’”
All the blood drained from my face. Was she really pushing her fetish now of all times?
”W-what exactly do you mean by that…?”
”Um, three meals a day, you drink my breast milk. Like a baby.”
My whole body shook. Why? There was no red moon to stir my instincts, nothing to trigger this trembling, yet I couldn’t stop. Even Torakuma, usually fearless, looked taken aback. Tatia hadn’t dared approach either.
”T-three meals a day? What does that even—”
”Breakfast at home, lunch maybe at school, dinner out if we’re together.”
”What is this, some new kind of execution method!?”
At home was one thing, but if she tried that in public, I’d get arrested. And for a thousand days—three years—my dignity wouldn’t survive. No way. Absolutely not. Even the yokai warrior Torakuma edged away, and that alone said everything.
The spell formula I’d built in my head nearly shattered from the shock.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this!?
”L-Lord Tatara… are you sure you’re okay?”
Tatia, even in this insane atmosphere, managed to ask with concern. Honestly, that courage impressed me.
”Y-yeah. The bleeding stopped, and the pain’s gone. I think I can even resume crafting the spell formula based on your flight now.”
Though in truth, I just wanted to escape from Ethelena and throw myself into work. For the first time, I wanted distance from the person I loved. Would Baral-san kill me for that?
* * *
Thanks to seeing Tatia’s flight firsthand, I understood the process by which the angelic race achieved flight. Their wings changed shape as their rank grew, but no matter the form, they could fly because their wings themselves were dense, visible spell formulas.
It was different from floating stones, a wholly separate principle of levitation. I’d probably need to apply for a patent after completing my research. For Tatia’s sake, I’d also need to report to the city mayor and submit a technical summary. Her armor design would have to be updated too. Ideally, I’d create flight-enabled arcane armor specifically for her, framed as a miracle entrusted to me by the angelic race.
Though… if I claimed knowledge from an ‘Archangel,’ it might create new problems. Would anyone believe a non-angel like me could craft armor with angel wings? More likely, suspicion would fall on me.
Perhaps I should instead frame it as Tatia being recognized by a dying high-level angel, who entrusted her soul core. If she then received armor based on that, transformed by angelic power, it would be accepted. Her wings would gain legitimacy through their race’s involvement. Angels might never descend here in Whirlwind, but some kind of cover story was essential.
For now, though, I needed to build something tangible.
The wings would be constructed with shape-memory alloy. To avoid unnatural stillness, I’d program them to flap realistically.
Feathers would conceal the surface, but the flight spell formula would be carved directly into the wings. However, if Tatia poured too much mana, the spell would unfold into the sky itself. Adding a limiter made output unstable, so she would have to control it herself.
With mana supplied, the prototype’s spell formula would activate—and the wings would rise into the air.
If only this could replace the Floating Stone. But unlike the Spell Formula that cancels out gravity and lets the stone hover, this one flies by touching the free-flowing Mana in the air—so it probably won’t work for anyone except Tatia’s wings.
If I were to use it myself, maybe I could embed it into the wings of an assault-type Arcane Armor. Still, it would only be good for generating lift at best.
While dividing my thoughts, I kept working, and the false wings to attach to Tatia’s armor took shape. I made each feather out of shape memory alloy, so in an emergency the wings could even serve as a shield.
If Tatia willed it, the feathered steel would harden into overlapping plates, and since Mana runs through them, they’d be fairly sturdy.
Once the wings were finished, I moved on to the chest armor that would hold them. I prepared a single Demonsteel ingot, refined it into sheets, and split them in two. Between the layers, I sandwiched a sheet of Mithril in a honeycomb structure, boosting defense while keeping the weight down.
Since hammering would collapse the honeycomb, I carefully flowed Mana into the Demonsteel and Mithril to shape them. The design followed the knightly armor common within Whirlwind, but it literally covered only the chest and back. The rest I made from shape memory alloy to allow body movement.
Defense was slightly reduced, though together with the inner lining, it could rival most armor. And since I tailored it to Tatia’s slim waist, the lines came out elegant—something I was personally satisfied with. On the breastplate, I engraved the motif of six feathers wrapping around a sword.
The back was even more complex. I split the plating to avoid interfering with Tatia’s wings, while also expanding the range of motion. Once she put it on, I adjusted the placement as she moved.
”It feels almost like I’m swinging a sword while naked,” Tatia said after testing it out.
That was her verdict after trying a few forms with the chestplate complete. Even though the armor weighed over five kilos including the wings, it didn’t seem to bother her. What kind of muscle does she have?
Next, I began on the pauldrons. They needed to be smaller than the common standard within Whirlwind, since otherwise they’d interfere with her wings and slow down her swordplay.
I explained this to Tatia, and after she agreed, I moved forward with the adjustments.
To lighten the set, I omitted the upper arm guards, elbow guards, thigh guards, and knee guards, but I still made vambraces and gauntlets. I designed the gauntlets with separated fingers, inscribing a Spell Formula to strengthen her grip.
Piece by piece, I shaped the armor to her body. Tatia watched intently as her armor came together, but behind that serious gaze I could see a spark of joy. Maybe her tastes are kind of boyish—she probably likes combining robots too.
I hesitated over the tassets, but in the end, I included them. Combined with the kusazuri, they flared out like a skirt, emphasizing femininity.
I also added the fabric I had prepared, woven from Mithril Silver Thread, which gave a touch of refinement.
Last came the greaves. I started with the sabatons. I separated the toe and instep plates so her toes could still move, and used both rubber and metal for the soles to adapt to all kinds of terrain.
The ankle and joint guards I made from shape memory alloy, prioritizing free movement. I even added spurs on the heels, just in case she ever needed to signal a horse.
Though, considering she could fly in this armor, I doubted she’d ever ride one.
The greaves themselves needed little adjustment. I widened the edges near the hem slightly so they wouldn’t restrict her knees.
About five hours after starting, night had already fallen, but with Tatia’s help, the armor was assembled. Further fine-tuning would be necessary, yet the form was complete.
The armor bore Demonsteel’s black, reflecting a faint blue sheen, with Mithril engravings shimmering over it. The waistcloth of Mithril Silver Thread, together with the dull-hued wings draped like a surcoat, gave the ensemble a distinctly knightly presence.
Wearing it for the adjustments, Tatia stood transformed into a noble knight. Even Torakuma, who had silently observed the process, gasped in awe.
”This is the first stage complete,” I said. “We’ll test the Spell Formula that links to the wings another day. It’s too dark now.”
When I looked at Tatia, though, she was pouting like a child whose toy had been taken away. I understood, but still—if we don’t test in daylight, we can’t spot flaws with the naked eye.
”Anyway, at least take a look at yourself,” I told her.
I pulled out a tall mirror from my Inventory, about two meters high and eighty centimeters wide. I had made it for moments like this.
Tatia stared at her reflection, eyes wide.
”This is… me?”
”I’m sorry it’s black by default since it’s made of Demonsteel,” I explained, “but I don’t plan on dyeing it.”
”Hmm. And why is that?”
Her question was fair—most knight armor was steel-gray or dull silver. But even if it weren’t Demonsteel, I would have made Tatia’s armor black.
”Because… it’s the same color as Rogas-san’s armor,” I said.
”…My father’s…”
Her voice carried many emotions at once. Her father’s greatsword and armor were both a deep black, though I’d never confirmed the material. People called him titles like ‘the Black Sword King,’ so from the start I had decided Tatia’s armor would be black as well.
And since my commission specified advanced techniques, Demonsteel became the natural choice. Except for the engravings, I left the color as it was.
”Once again, thank you,” Tatia said solemnly. “Tatara Julon-dono, already famed as the next Chief Crafter—you’ve crafted a masterpiece, and I am deeply grateful.”
”Tatia, knight-in-training, I accept your gratitude. But the armor still needs adjustments, so I ask for your continued cooperation.”
”I swear it. I will devote my all.”
”When the armor is complete, I hope your valor will protect the powerless everywhere.”
”As a knight, I swear to defend the innocent.”
Tatia’s words came with a straightened posture, and I returned the courtesy. As expected of someone who attended knight school, she stood tall and proud.
Back when I first met her, I never would have imagined she’d become like this.
I was glad I had accepted her request back then.
”Dinner’s ready, you three—oh wow! Chi-chan, you look amazing!”
Ethelena, who had gone off to prepare dinner, returned and gasped at Tatia’s appearance. Tatia smiled shyly at the praise, and I found myself smiling as well.
When I glanced at Torakuma, she was standing with her arms crossed, nodding like some master in the background.
”All right, let’s eat. Tatia, I’ll leave the armor with you—store it in your Inventory. Remember, the inner lining is part of the set too, so don’t misplace it.”
”Understood. I’ll take good care of it.”
As I left the room, Tatia’s voice followed me. From the startled movements of Ethelena and Torakuma, I guessed she had stored the whole set—including her undergarments—and ended up in nothing but her underwear. Yeah… I saw that coming.
I finished drafting a letter to the City Mayor and handed it to a bird-shaped golem. Tomorrow I’d continue adjusting Tatia’s armor, but I also hoped to borrow the wisdom of the mayor and, if possible, the old man. If he introduced us to someone among the Angel tribe, we might create something together and secure their cooperation.
After all that work, I was drenched in sweat, so I took a quick shower before dinner. At least if I changed clothes afterward, I wouldn’t stink. I remembered from biology in my previous life that women’s sense of smell was about fifty percent sharper than men’s, and they could even pick up pheromones in sweat.
The last thing I wanted was for the girls to complain I smelled—if all three of them ganged up on me, I’d probably cry.
When I entered the living room, Ethelena was setting the last dishes on the table. Plates were already in front of Tatia and Torakuma, so what she carried now must have been the final dish.
”Sorry, I couldn’t help,” I said.
”It’s fine,” she replied. “I figured you went to shower.”
I apologized again and took my seat. A plate was set in front of me. Tonight’s menu was beef stew—an item Ethelena had been preparing since yesterday.
The special demi-glace sauce had been saved for a special occasion, and she’d tucked it away in her Inventory. She must have finished the final steps and let it rest just before I showed up yesterday.
I hadn’t noticed it in the pantry until today at lunch. Dinner had been my responsibility, but judging by her smug look, I had been tricked.
”So then—let’s celebrate Torakuma moving in with us and Chi-chan’s armor being finished… itadakimasu!”
”Itadakimasu!” we all echoed together.
Following Ethelena’s lead, we joined in the greeting.
I scooped up a spoonful of stew, cooled it a little, and tasted it. The demi-glace carried a sharp tang and deep richness, followed by the mellow sweetness of simmered vegetables and meat that filled my mouth with warmth.
I yelped at the heat, gulped some water, but still craved another bite. It was delicious. This was one of her mother’s most elaborate recipes, probably refined because it had been Baral-san’s favorite.
She had strained the vegetables into the roux, letting their flavors soak through completely. The only shapes that remained were the potatoes and broccoli added near the end.
I picked up a potato chunk. It crumbled with just the pressure of my tongue, its gentle flavor standing shoulder to shoulder with the roux. The broccoli still had bite left in it, its mild taste offering the perfect break from the stew’s richness.
Finally, I bit into the beef—the true star. Salt and pepper had been rubbed in before searing, locking the flavor in.
Even beneath the roux, the taste struck hard. The meat’s juices mingled with the vegetable broth, amplifying its savor. What should have been tough sinew had softened to the point of parting with just a little resistance.
For a young body, meat was best. Animal protein truly was king.
I tore bread into pieces and used it to wipe my plate clean, finishing everything. As I leaned back, satisfied and rubbing my belly, Ethelena was smiling at me happily.
From the side, the ever-watchful “box-pushing demon”—our nickname for her clingy habits—looked at us with glittering eyes, like we were dessert. I ignored her.
Tatia, too, looked satisfied, rubbing her stomach with a content smile.
”Thanks for the meal,” I said.
I carried my dishes to the kitchen and gathered the others, washing everything quickly. Ethelena tried to join me, but Torakuma distracted her with conversation long enough for me to finish. Since she’d cooked, the cleanup was my job.
When I returned, the three girls were chatting merrily. Not wanting to intrude, I went back to the kitchen to brew cold tea I had prepared earlier, pouring out enough for everyone.
The three were still enjoying themselves, but I was starting to worry about Tatia’s curfew. I didn’t know the exact time, but she always rushed off before long. Still, cutting into their circle felt awkward.
”Hey, Tatia,” I called out at last. “Isn’t it about time for your curfew?”
Ethelena gave me a reproachful look, but Tatia glanced at the wall clock and then jumped to her feet.
”S-sorry! Thank you for the meal!” she said in a rush.
”Don’t mention it,” I replied.
”Tomorrow we’ll continue adjusting the armor. Come whenever you can,” I added.
”Understood. See you tomorrow!”
”See you,” I said.
”Tomorrow, then,” said Ethelena.
”Aye, until tomorrow,” Torakuma added.
We three watched Tatia leave through the front door. Torakuma, who would be staying here from now on, looked visibly excited. At least she didn’t seem like the type who couldn’t sleep in a new bed.
”Hey, hey, Toracchan! Let’s take a bath together!” Ethelena said eagerly.
”Wh-whoa—fine, I’ll go! Just don’t push me!” Torakuma stammered.
She gave in as Ethelena shoved her toward the bathroom, and the sight was so warm I couldn’t help laughing.
Most likely those two would end up having a pajama party tonight. As for me, I’d sleep alone—which honestly meant I’d get to rest well.
”Until they’re done in the bath, I guess I’ll work on the Floating Stone analysis,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the workshop. I also remembered I needed to write down the details I’d analyzed from Tatia’s Angel-flight Spell Formula. That thought put me in a good mood.
Five minutes later, an earsplitting scream echoed from the bathroom. Torakuma must have just seen Ethelena naked. Honestly, the shock probably hit her harder than it ever hit me.
”T-Tatara, the bath is free now,” came a voice.
I turned from my notes on the Floating Stone to find Torakuma standing there in pajamas, a towel wrapped around her damp hair. If I could, I would’ve liked to make her a yukata or a bathrobe, but since I didn’t know the structure well enough, I couldn’t sew one.
”Thanks,” I said. “Bet sharing with Ethelena was rough, huh?”
”What’s with that overwhelming growth? What does she eat to get like that?”
”…Men, maybe,” I muttered.
Technically, she was eating me, but—yeah, not saying that out loud.
”Stop with the weird comments. I can’t even tell if you’re bragging or self-pitying,” she grumbled.
”Wait, was that bragging?” I asked.
”Say that to an older single woman, and you’ll end up a bloody pulp,” she warned.
”R-right…”
Better be careful what I say around single women. Some of the teachers at the academy might be dangerous too.
”You’ll probably end up doing more girl talk with Ethelena tonight, so good luck,” I told her.
”Hmph. I’d rather not intrude on a couple’s time,” she replied.
”Too late, you box-pushing demon.”
”…By the way, how do you even know so much about our culture?” she asked suddenly. “We hardly use words like ‘yokai’ around here.”
”Actually, I have memories from a previous life. So I know a bit about the culture from your homeland,” I admitted.
”What kind of joke is that…”
If I spoke the truth without trying to dodge the question, it always sounded absurd and was dismissed as a joke. I had told Ethelena once before, but she couldn’t believe me either. The only one who had ever understood was the Archangel. At least she had accepted why I knew so much about this world.
”Well then, I’ll go take a bath,” I said.
”Mm. The water was good, so enjoy it at your leisure,” Torakuma replied.
”Yeah. Just don’t catch a chill out there with Ethelena,” I told her.
With that exchange, I headed for the bath. Lately, I’d often ended up bathing with Ethelena—sometimes it felt like I wasn’t sure whether we were getting clean or getting dirty—so enjoying a soak alone was refreshing.
Afterward, I returned to my room and lay on my bed. It had been a while since I slept alone. Without Ethelena beside me—and without the usual late-night intimacy—I had too much HP left over, and falling asleep felt harder.
Or so I thought. In reality, five minutes after closing my eyes, I remembered nothing more. I woke not to my alarm but to the morning sunlight streaming through the window, and it felt good.
I must have slept a full eight hours. My head was clear, my body felt light, and my condition was perfect. True, the vitality Ethelena shared with me usually made me feel even stronger, but this natural rest had its own quality.
After rinsing off my night sweat in the shower, I figured Ethelena and Torakuma had stayed up late and would sleep in, so I made breakfast.
I would have liked to serve Torakuma something Japanese, but I had no soy sauce, no miso, and nothing like Japonica rice. Better to make a light meal in this world’s style than force a poor imitation.
I couldn’t make dashi-maki tamago, but I could make salted omelets, so I prepared those at least. If she preferred the sweet version, I’d make it next time. Maybe one day we could get kelp or bonito for proper dashi through trade with her country.
Toast, salad, omelets, and instant consommé soup made for a simple breakfast. I set out forks, spoons, and knives, but I also carved several pairs of chopsticks from Orc material—different lengths and widths—and laid them at Torakuma’s seat. Once I learned her preference, I’d craft her a proper pair.
When everything was ready, I was about to head to their room to wake them, but through the living room window, I spotted someone standing outside in the yard.
It was Torakuma, already changed into her casual clothes, moving through her kata one by one with her beloved katana. Her motions were slow compared to her usual speed, but each form radiated power, distorting the air around her.
”…You find it that entertaining just to watch someone running through forms?” she asked when she finished and sheathed her blade, turning toward me.
”Of course,” I answered. “In the dungeon, I couldn’t study your technique properly. Watching you now, I can see your true skill—and I can think about what weapons would bring out your abilities to their fullest. The ideas won’t stop coming.”
Torakuma sighed softly and chuckled.
”Good morning, Torakuma,” I said. “Breakfast is ready. Wash up and take your seat.”
”Good morning, Tatara. I’ll do just that.”
I watched her switch shoes and head to the washroom. I thought about waking Ethelena, but since she’d probably slept in Torakuma’s room, I hesitated. Entering uninvited felt dangerous.
”Torakuma, sorry, but could you wake Ethelena once you’ve washed your hands?” I called.
”What? You’re the homeowner—just go in and wake her yourself!”
”I’ve got a bad feeling. Worst-case, your room could end up as their… love nest.”
”Ugh…”
My words made her falter. No one wanted their room defiled on the very first day of moving in. Still, she trudged off reluctantly to face the risk. It felt almost like watching someone sent to defuse a landmine.
That was when the visitor’s bell rang.
”Huh, Tatia’s early today. I’ll get her some breakfast too,” I muttered, heading to the door.
As expected, Tatia stood outside—but behind her were three familiar figures.
”…Good morning, Tatara-dono,” she greeted.
”Morning, Tatia. And… about the three behind you?” I asked.
She looked troubled as she answered.
”I planned to come in the afternoon for armor adjustments. But when I was training this morning, the dorm supervisor summoned me.”
She spoke wearily.
”When I went to the reception, these three were waiting.”
Her words made my mood drop, but the three behind her didn’t seem affected.
”They said they wanted to hear details about the armor, and about your junior, Tatara-dono. So I had no choice but to bring them here…”
”You’ve had it rough,” I said quietly.
”Yes. I haven’t even had breakfast,” she admitted.
”I prepared some. It’s not much, but have some.”
”My thanks.”
Her stomach growled loudly, confirming her words. Feeling sorry for her, I invited her in and told her to have some soup first.
”…So,” I said, turning my eyes to the three behind her, “why exactly did you drag Tatia here at this hour?”
With a sharp smile, the City Mayor answered. “You mean the one who gave me a shocking verbal report yesterday, then followed it up with an even more shocking written report in the middle of the night? That one?”
Her lips twitched in irritation. Behind her, the knight Calmys let out a sigh. And the last was Tatia’s guardian—the old man himself.
Three of the city’s most prominent figures stood at my door, fully armed.
Notes:
• Rogas – Tatara’s father friend.
• 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.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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