Taming a Munchkin

At the same time, Kynemeia passed by the alchemists and made towards a man busy decocting a white-coloured potion. Perhaps she was listening to his explanation about the potion seeing as she was continuously bobbing her head up and down. With a bashful smile on her lips.

‘Again.’

She was smiling at that dumb alchemist yet again. In contrast, she only smiled in front of Eian, and awkwardly at that, when she apologised for bumping into him last time.

‘…’ Eian narrowed his eyes in displeasure. He listened in on the dumbass’s explanation, the gist of which was that it was possible to administer a potion to heal the bulk of a person’s external injuries as long as they were still breathing.

‘If I let this be, it’ll make things difficult for me.’

Eian shot a telepathy line at the alchemist without a moment of hesitation.

• Hey.

When the man peered left and right, Eian waved his hand and smiled genially.

“…!”

He told the man lightly,

• I’m talking directly to your head, so others won’t be able to hear us. Carry on your conversation with the Lady while you listen to me.

The man’s eye darted around before he gave a nod. Eian smiled in satisfaction.

• Good. Then shall I introduce myself first? I’m Eian Krosch, the one who’s holding on to your lifeline from this moment onwards.

“Pardon?!”

“…?”

When the alchemist lifted his head, a puzzled Kynemeia asked,

“What’s wrong?”

• I told you I’m speaking in your head. If you don’t want to look like a dunce, you’d better keep your mouth shut.

“Oh… No, nothing…”

The alchemist waved his hands and shook his head at the girl who seemed to have question marks floating around her.

‘Is he a mage…?!’

The Eastern Continent was home to some mages as well. The alchemist himself had a mage among his relatives, so he had some understanding of magic. He knew that magic, under usual circumstances, should be reinforced by operative techniques, complicated calculation and potent mana, all of which led him to connect the dots easily.

Telepathy without the means of a physical device was a feasible feat only for the cream of the crop of the highest echelons of mages. And a mage of such calibre was threatening him via telepathy now, cautioning him that his lifeline rested in the mage’s hands.

‘What kind of calamity is this…!’ There he was, his nerves frayed thin and cold sweat pouring out of him, whereas Eian was calmly caressing Kynemeia’s hair. As he caught the ends of her flowy hair between his fingers, he levelled a stare at the alchemist.

• The Lady is a worrywart, so she’ll be asking you to concoct a potion that can heal my injury. When that happens, tell her you won’t be able to provide a remedy as it’s incurable.

“…!”

The alchemist, whose nerves had gone right out the window by this point, widened his eyes at the word incurable. It wasn’t a word that could easily be voiced out loud and would bruise his pride as an alchemist.

‘And… Shouldn’t he be happy that his injury is treatable?’

But he hadn’t the foggiest idea of the wicked mage’s thoughts as Eian only stood there grinning away. Eventually, the alchemist shook his head with a gulp, indicating his wish to turn down the request.

• Hmm.

Eian’s face took on a softer cast as his eyes curved into crescents.

• Who did I say I was?

“E…”

He was about to unconsciously let slip his reply but found his lips clamped shut as if something was smothering his mouth. Right then, Eian pressed his index finger to his own lips.

• Shh. You’re not allowed to answer. If you get it, blink.

His mouth still sealed, the man blinked his eyes once. Cold sweat was already trickling down his neck and forehead. He felt similar to a mouse reduced to a predatory animal’s plaything. With the alchemist in the throes of suffering in the hands of ‘Einsane’, Kynemeia brought the very boy before him.

“Eian, show him your injury.”

“Okay.”

He complied softly and took off his bandage.

“I want you to cure this.”

Kynemeia said to the alchemist.

“Ah…”

The alchemist, his mouth having been unfastened, gulped slightly.

‘What is this…?’

Eian’s side was jaggedly cut open, and though there wasn’t any apparent damage to his organs…

‘What is he plotting?’

He wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. The more he looked at the injury, the more it seemed to him that someone had been gouging the injury repeatedly. He didn’t know the underlying reason, but it was blatantly clear that the person cutting into the wound was none other than the wicked mage.

‘Is he in his right mind?’

The alchemist suddenly recalled Xuan Tian’s words at that moment.

“There’s a guy crazier than Xing Kakahn by the Little Angel’s side.”

It turns out that the statement rang true in the end, because even that nutcase, Xing Kakahn, wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. As the man was hesitating, Eian transmitted yet another telepathic message.

• Should I introduce myself again? I’m Eian Krosch, the one who can cut your breath short.

The weak-kneed man’s shoulders gave a jerk as inky eyes resembling an abyss formed an eyesmile and looked fixedly at him.

• Blink if you understand.

He blinked for a long time.

• Good. Tell her no one can make the cure.

“Uhm… Miss Little Angel. It can’t be treated with potions.”

“Huh? Why? I’ve even seen them heal injuries inflicted by monsters before.”

‘Why, you ask? Because that lunatic doesn’t want to get better.’

But he didn’t have the heart to say that.

• Tell her it’s imbued with an evil curse.

“I-It’s because it’s imbued with an evil curse.”

Even as he repeated the phrase, he privately thought about how the evil curse wasn’t brought on through the injury but the mage standing before him.

“Is that so?”

The corners of Kynemeia’s lips drooped while Eian smiled sunnily at the alchemist’s direction.

• Good job. Honestly, you should’ve said that on the spot so that we don’t get on bad terms.

‘I did everything you ordered, why would we be on bad terms?!’

As tremors took hold of the man’s shoulders and his face turned deathly pale, Kynemeia consoled him, assuring him that it didn’t matter even if he couldn’t heal the wound.

* * *

“Master, when did you arrive?”

While ferrying medicine, Law spotted Xuan Tian who was looking at something closely.

“Just now.”

“You should’ve informed us you were coming.”

As Law studied him, Xuan Tian furtively hid the bottle of liquor affixed to his waist behind him.

“When will you leave to find your speciality?”

“This is where I belong, Master. Never mind that, let me see that bottle.”

“I-It’s nothing!”

“Isn’t that liquor? Please, show me.”

“Never you mind, rascal!”

Xuan Tian shrilled before shifting his gaze elsewhere again.

“What have you been looking at since earlier anyway?”

“Someone’s heartbreaking struggle.”

The subjects of Xuan Tian’s study were Kynemeia, Eian and the alchemist.

‘He must’ve done something, no doubt about it.’

Otherwise, it was unheard of for one of their self-respecting alchemists to shake his head and say a particular injury couldn’t be treated. Figuring it was characteristic of that insane boy after all, Xuan Tian popped the lid of his liquor bottle.

“Oh, isn’t that Miss Fairy?”

As soon as Law noticed Kynemeia’s presence, he bounded up to her.

“…?!”

“Miss Fairy, you’re here!”

‘Why are you going there?!’ At Law’s impulsive reaction, Xuan Tian almost spewed out his mouthful and quickly wiped his lips.

‘This guy, he’s already suffered at Eian’s hands once before. Does he never learn?’

Was he perhaps lacking in learning since he’s only been devoted to the sword since birth? All the same, Law drew closer to Kynemeia with light steps. Little wonder, then, that Eian took action before he could reach her.

FLICK—

“…!”

However, Law sensed it at once and moved at the speed of light.

SCRAATCH—

Law, who’d streaked away so fast that he left scratch marks on the floor, raised his head to meet Eian’s eyes.

‘He avoided it?’ Eian frowned slightly.

Having dodged the magical attack successfully, Law once again fluttered to Kynemeia’s side like a butterfly.

“Miss Fairy!”

“Hmm—”

Eian hummed as if something had caught his interest.

Warp magic was essentially calculating the target and destination’s coordinates, and moving the target to said destination. Should the target move before the spell could be invoked, the magic would fall through. Theoretically, that was how it went, but…

Eian was a Rikasha. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that time he spent to invoke spells was so fleeting it transcended imagination. In all of the continent, the only ones skilful enough to avoid his quick-acting magic were a scant number of knights he could count on one hand.

Eian fell into a brown study. Was this Law fellow among the knights he was familiar with?