Sinseki Era — Year -21
"This feel... seriously too good."
"And judging by Master's expression, she seems to be enjoying it too."
Unfortunately, the carriage reached the inn sooner than expected. Gut stepped off with a hint of regret, then helped Serie check in at the front desk.
After entering their respective rooms and barely having time to set down his luggage, Gut heard a knock at the door.
He opened it—and found Serie standing outside.
"Master? What is it… You here for a follow-up session?"
Serie's brow twitched. She didn't know the term, but she understood the gist well enough.
"That sort of thing... save it for another time if the chance comes."
"Now hurry up and wash up. You're coming with me to shop for supplies."
"Our next destination is the Alt Forest. The terrain's too rough for carriages, so we'll be trekking through on foot. We'll need to camp there for a few nights, so we've got a lot of gear to prepare—too much for one person."
"If we can't get everything today, we'll waste another full day stuck in this city."
"Got it. I'll wash my face real quick."
Gut nodded. No wonder the old coachman hadn't discussed a next-day meetup—they'd only been hired up to this city.
After cleaning up, Gut came out of the washroom and spotted Serie already sitting on his bed, her pale feet dangling and swaying by the edge.
The sunlight poured in, making her fair skin practically glow—reflecting straight into Gut's wide eyes.
In short, the man was staring.
Serie noticed, sighed, and stopped swinging her legs. Only then did Gut's eyes return to normal.
"If you're done, let's head out."
"Here. Hold this." Serie tossed him a small suitcase.
Thunk.
Gut caught it smoothly and gave it a quick shake. Seemed empty… but definitely heavier than it looked.
"That's a magic storage case," Serie explained, as if she'd read his mind. "It holds far more than it seems—basically a spatial container. Everything we need for the trip can probably fit in just this one."
"Nice," Gut praised. "But Master, why didn't we prep it all before the trip?"
"..."
Serie paused before answering. "Because that would've made the case way too heavy. I wasn't about to lug that thing around for the whole journey."
"Also, the repellents and antidotes specific to Alt Forest's bugs and toxins are best bought locally—they're fresher and more effective."
"Anyway. Enough questions."
"Here's your list. We'll split up at the market and regroup afterward at the gate."
"Understood."
Gut accepted the list without argument.
Two hours later.
Dragging multiple bags of supplies, Gut emerged from the crowded marketplace and waited just outside the gates for Serie.
Thirty minutes passed.
Still no sign of her.
Rather than just standing there, Gut decided to open the magic case and begin sorting and compressing everything he'd bought.
One hour later.
After carefully organizing everything—without damaging a single item—he'd finally packed the goods as efficiently as possible, leaving ample space for Serie's haul.
Another hour passed.
Gut had been waiting outside the market for two and a half hours now. Even his patience was running out.
Unleashing a surge of magical energy, he spread his aura wide across the entire marketplace.
Sure, doing this in a city was considered extremely rude—an act of provocation among mages. But efficiency came first.
Besides, this was just a frontier town in the Lant region. What were the chances there were other mages?
And even if there were... what of it?
Gut had full confidence in his magical prowess—and absolute confidence in his physical strength.
Mages were fragile. One or two? He'd slap them down. Even ten or eight charging him? They'd all go flying from a single elbow.
According to the Relativity of Gut Physics, when Gut's fist comes down, someone's going airborne.
Just then—ping! His senses picked up a familiar mana signature. Serie.
But before he could withdraw his search field, another weaker magical pulse flickered at the edge of his range.
"Tch."
Gut frowned. "Figures. Someone else in the market picked it up."
He began walking toward Serie's location while keeping a mental tab on the unknown mage—who, unfortunately, was moving toward him.
"Ugh, great."
"A by-the-book old traditionalist, huh? One of those who worships mage etiquette like holy law..."
Well, whatever. He had been the rude one. If the guy was polite, Gut would give him a pass.
But if this mage showed up barking orders like some pompous snob? Gut wouldn't hesitate to introduce him to flight magic—ten years early.
(Note: In the Sinseki Era -11, mages first deciphered a flawed form of flight magic.)
He pushed the thought aside for now and picked up the pace, eager to find out what on earth Serie was doing that took her so long.
Marketplace, other end.
Serie was squatting in front of an antique stall, peering at trinkets and comparing them to her memory of historical eras and engraving styles.
Time passed faster than she realized.
By the time Gut arrived, eyes immediately locking on the familiar figure crouched beside the vendor...
He could only sigh.
"Master's out here falling for more fakes again, huh…"
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Powerstones?
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