The Strategist of the Magic Emperor Shatters the Second Destruction - Volume 1 Chapter 2

The day after the “Oracle Talent Revelation”.

With the warmth of the modest celebration at the orphanage having cooled, I start thinking about the future.

What is essential for me in this life?

Naturally, “Conversion Magic” is a must.

However, it’s clear that if I focus solely on researching and experimenting with magic, I’ll end up with the same outcome as in my first life.

I lean the wooden board I nudged Sister into buying at the general store yesterday against the wall.

I perform magic on it, which is slightly shorter than me at ten years old.

“Conversion Magic.”

The targeted wooden board decomposes into particles once and is reconstructed based on my imagination.

What’s leaned against the wall now is a wooden sword, shorter than me.

“Yeah, control isn’t an issue. The problem is…”

I mutter, reaching out for the sword.

It’s a struggle just to lift the heavy sword, let alone swing it around.

“I really do need to train, huh.”

This is precisely my bottleneck.

For instance, even if I create a sword using “Conversion Magic,” I lack the strength and technique to wield it.

The same goes for other tools.

Even if I can recreate various objects by reading documents, it’s a waste if I can’t use them.

I realized this after already having poured money and time into it like water.

“It would have been great if someone else could use them…”

But those around Anim were drawn by the name and genius of the “Magic Emperor.”

They were essentially a battle group of power worshippers, to put it mildly.

Such people wouldn’t listen to weakling me, charging in recklessly and returning on the brink of death, completely out of control.

Trying to use one’s brain (not that they had much) was pretty much just me.

That’s why I was essentially a nominal strategist…

“But still, it seems they’re necessary after all.”

Regardless of the bad memories, even regarded as runaway engines, their power is real.

Conversely, if we could lead them well, they’d be the strongest group in the world.

To oppose that winged man, I must rely on them.

“So, power really is what I need.”

If those guys follow someone strong, I have no choice but to become stronger than them.

“Balam, here’s some money for you to use freely. Spend it wisely.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

Recipients of the “Oracle Talent Revelation” receive funds from the country.

It’s a budget to understand one’s Talent and make the effort suited to it.

In my first life, I used all this money on weapons blueprints, ore characteristics, applications, and the like.

But, as you can guess, that didn’t go well.

This time is different, though. Fortunately or unfortunately, due to the failures of my first life, I can convert many things.

This feature of “Conversion Magic” is rooted in memory and knowledge rather than experience.

Therefore, poring over guides and manuals is out of the question.

“Honestly, this is still a gamble… but I don’t have time to stand still.”

I tie the wooden sword I created yesterday to my waist and turn back to Sister.

“I want to learn swordsmanship. I’d like to use this money to put out a request.”

■　　 ■　　 ■　　 ■

The Dazril Royal Capital, Adventurer’s Guild.

A hub for adventurers that rivals the city’s hustle and bustle even during the day.

A woman in a nun’s outfit steps in.

The petite woman could easily be mistaken for a young girl, with a beautiful face surveying the alcohol-tinged interior of the guild.

Some of the adventurers, faces lighting up with vulgar expressions at her beauty, rise from their seats.

“Hey, look at that.”

“That’s a real catch… Going for it?”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“—Hold it, rookies.”

However, the veterans loitering in the guild paid them no mind, engrossed in their respective tasks.

The one who restrained the excited men was a high-ranking B-class adventurer.

Everyone pretended not to see. In such a creepy atmosphere, the excited ones also caught their breath and sat back down.

Sister, with an “Ah,” exclaimed and scurried towards a particularly noisy area within the guild.

The adventurers’ chatter quiets down as she approaches.

“Hey, isn’t that sister bad news…?”

“Ignore, ignore. Don’t get involved.”

“If it turns into a commotion, just run.”

“Why would she come to adventurers from the holy city…?”

Whispers hit Sister’s back silently.

But undeterred and with a carefree demeanor, she speaks to one of them and—shockingly—smacks him on the head.

“Hey, Cain! How can you be so drunk this early! I’ve always been told you to do it in moderation!?”

“Ah?”

The guild falls silent instantly.

The adventurer from the holy city, Cain.

Misconduct toward a man who has achieved feats in a place revered by adventurers, feats that everyone else can only look up to.

One could be beaten up without complaint.

And sure enough, Cain, with a drink in his hand, stands up, slamming his cup on the table.

“Ouch, what the… Ah? Who are you bas…tard…?”

“Bastard? How dare you speak like that to the one who raised you!?”

“Sister!?”

Cain exclaims in an unusually high voice once he recognizes the person who hit him.

A murmuring spreads throughout the guild.

The man, who appeared drunk, now flushes his previously red face blue and hides his drink.

“It’s not like that! They were bugging me to drink! Saying I should let loose a little!”

“Hey, that’s cruel, Cain! We didn’t say anything! You were the one insisting on relaxing a bit!”

“Shut up, all of you! So, Sister, what brings you here after so long?”

Adventurers on a mission from the holy city push the blame around like children, drawing a sigh from Sister as she places a bag filled with coins on the table.

“I’d like to request swordsmanship lessons for a child from the orphanage who just turned ten yesterday.”

“―Hmm.”

Cain’s tone shifts from childish to serious as he becomes intrigued.

“Sounds interesting… But sorry, no can do. Try someone else.”

He dismisses the request with the adventurers around him shrugging in apparent agreement.

“May I ask why?”

“First, we’re on an expedition.”

“But you seem to have plenty of time to drink?”

“We finished our mission quite early. We’re on a break as a reward. …Besides, I already accepted a swordsmanship instruction request in the holy city. Can’t do it half-heartedly.”

Although he dismissed it, the consideration behind his refusal speaks to his status as a top adventurer.

The fact that he could even receive such a request indicates he’s in high demand among the nobility. Not someone to be dismissed lightly.

Sister locks eyes with Cain, undeterred.

“How long will this expedition last?”

“Eh? Well, about a week or so.”

“Then, just a week is fine. I want you to take a look at that child.”

“Swordsmanship lessons, huh, in just a week…”

Cain strokes his slightly grown beard, the earnest gaze from Sister evoking memories of his younger days, forming a smile on his lips.

“Expecting something from that kid, huh? Is that it? He too have a Talent in swordsmanship?”

“No. That child’s Talent was related to magic.”

“Huh? Magic?”

Cain was taken aback and looked around at the faces of the other adventurers.

Naturally, everyone was tilting their heads in confusion.

Teaching swordsmanship to someone with a Talent in magic is not meaningless, but it seems misguided.

“That child wants to learn swordsmanship.”

“Look, Sister. I know you’re soft on the orphanage kids—very well, I might say. But sometimes, they need a firmer hand. If the kid has a talent in magic, it’d be better for him to train in that. Swordsmanship is…”

Several adventurers nodded at Cain’s words.

It’s a common tale that those born into families of knights, yet lacking martial Talent, are forced into martial training, only to end their lives without having fully blossomed.

Ignoring Cain’s cautionary advice, Sister placed something on the table.

It was the wooden sword Balam had transformed from a wooden board.

“What’s this? …Nice craftsmanship. Must’ve cost a decent sum. Did you get pestered into buying it?”

“Yes, he insisted.”

“I get it. Kids that age have those kinds of dreams.”

Cain poured his gaze over the wooden sword placed on the table, uttering a voice of admiration.

The surrounding adventurers of the holy city also had their eyes captivated by the novelty.

“Wonder how much this goes for these days… Feels a bit odd to hold but… how much?”

“A copper coin.”

“A copper coin? Wow, times have changed. Equivalence between a piece of wood and this, huh?”

“No, I bought—a piece of wood. The next day, I found it like this. When I asked, he had used magic to turn it into this.”

“―――――――――”

Silence falls as everyone stares at the wooden sword on the table, lost for words.

Cain looks at Sister intently, knowing she’s not one to lie.

Then, this is…

“The child who made this the day after learning he could use magic wants to learn swordsmanship. It’s not normal, is it?”

“…There’s something about this kid.”

“I know. But he’s a dear child I raised. That’s all I need to know.”

Sister grabs Cain’s hand, pleading.

“Just a week. Please, take a look at him.”

Cain glances at the wooden sword on the table, a certain premonition moving him.

“Let me meet him first. We’ll talk after that.”