v2c1 - 1

CH.1: BEGINNING OF WANDERING

Beneath the pale moonlight, the otherworldly figure stood or perhaps… to say it merely “stood” or, more bluntly, “was there” might be more fitting. It had neither arms nor legs. No distinction between torso and head. It lacked any definite form. Its outline was fluid, ever-shifting, impossible to pin down. Whether the thing before him stood upright or lay sprawled was indiscernible from its appearance alone.

Toru Acura—stared in stunned silence at the anomaly before him.

“……”

It stirred slightly… an amorphous mass.

Its surface, trembling and undulating ceaselessly, was cloaked in dried leaves and mud. Naturally, it bore no eyes, nose, or mouth. If asked, “What is this?”—one could only answer, based on its appearance, “a lump.” It exuded an uncanny strangeness, as if soil and mud had taken on a life of their own, defying all reason.

“…Chaika…”

Perhaps it was the chill of the night air… Toru’s voice, calling out, clouded white in the darkness.

Chaika.

It was the name of the girl he had sworn to serve as his master.

A silver-haired, petite figure with an air of mysteryband fragility—a princess without a kingdom.

Her flawless features, as if crafted by a master artisan.

Her delicate limbs, so slender they seemed they might snap if held too tightly.

Her smooth, white skin, untainted by any impurity.

None of these were present in the form before him.

Instead merely a filthy—shapeless “lump” that had forsaken all semblance of humanity.

“T-That’s… your…” Toru said, his voice dazed.

“…Your…”

Toru blinked repeatedly.

As if, by doing so, the unacceptable reality before him might vanish—might disappear in the instant he closed and opened his eyes for the umpteenth time. A foolish hope lingered in the corner of his mind.

At length, as if resigning himself, he spoke in a low voice posing the question.

“Sleeping clothes?”

“Ui.”

With a zubo, a girl’s face burst forth from the “lump.”

There must have been some seam, or collar, or—well, something of the sort.

Her long silver hair, her violet eyes, her soft white skin—all, of course, unchanged from moments before.

What had changed, in essence was merely her attire.

“Warmth. Exceptional,” said the girl—Chaika Trabant—her head protruding from the “lump.”

“…Well, yeah, I suppose it would be,” Toru replied.

“Camouflage. Exceptional.”

Her command of the continental common tongue was, as ever, somewhat lacking, her cadence and intonation oddly stilted—but the faint pride in her voice was unmistakable.

“That too, I guess,” Toru said, his tone weary. “What kind of fashion sense is even this?”

“Priority. Functionality. Topmost.”

“……”

Toru surveyed Chaika’s “sleeping clothes” once more.

In truth, it was less clothing and more akin to a sleeping bag. To put it simply, a fabric sack designed to envelop a person entirely. Unlike a typical cylindrical sleeping bag, it seemed to have ample room, allowing movement while inside.

Its surface was layered with fine mesh netting, such that when Chaika rolled about, it naturally gathered dried leaves and mud, completing its camouflage. Between its sack-like shape, devoid of human contours, and this surface, it would be nearly impossible to discern a person within from a distance.

“Well, you’re a wizard, so I guess you need gear like that…” Toru conceded.

“Handmade. Prideworthy creation,” Chaika nodded, visibly pleased.

“Being unseen is probably the best defense, right?”

“Affirmative.”

“But you don’t need to wear that thing now. It’s a hassle, so take it off.”

“Mui?”

“We’ll handle keeping watch so you don't need to wear something like that,” Toru said.

At present—Toru and his companions were deep in a forested mountain surrounded by trees, the ground beneath them was carpeted with fallen leaves and humus. To camp here, Toru had laid multiple “barriers” around their perimeter.

These were not, of course, the defensive wards or alert zones used by wizards. They were far simpler. Merely thin, brittle twigs—ones that would snap audibly under the weight of a step—hidden beneath leaves and soil. Additionally, fine black threads were strung between the trees, adorned with bells.

Should anything approach—whether treading the ground or navigating the branches above, the  sound would alert them.

“Look… that thing. Sure, it’s probably warm and hard to spot, but if you can’t move quickly when getting ambushed, it’s useless, right?”

“…Muu.”

Chaika’s face twisted in displeasure.

Evidently, she wasn’t thrilled to hear her favorite “sleeping clothes” criticized.

“No problem. Capable. Swift action.”

“…Oh, really?” Toru said, narrowing his eyes. “Then show me how you do a lap around that tree over there. just a jog.”

“Ui.”

As if to say, Easy Peasy, Chaika strode briskly toward the large tree Toru had indicated.

And then— “Migya?” —Splat.

With her third step, Chaika spectacularly faceplanted straight into the ground, her face buried. Not only the surface of her sleeping clothes but her pale face and silver hair were now smeared with mud and leaves.

“Told you so,” Toru said.

“Uu. Inexplicable,” Chaika muttered.

“There’s a reason clothes are shaped like clothes. That thing’s like you’re constantly stepping on your own skirt while walking.”

Moreover, the fine mesh designed to collect mud and leaves meant it was prone to snagging on branches and debris.

In short, her sleeping clothes excelled at “staying hidden when still” but were utterly impractical for movement—especially for fleeing in a pinch.

“Masterpiece…” Chaika murmured mournfully.

Thanks to her prized sleeping clothes, the boundary between her and the ground was blurred, making it look eerily like a severed head lamenting on the earth with a deeply unsettling sight.

“Just take it off,” Toru said, extending a hand toward Chaika, still sprawled on the ground.

The next instant—

—Zosu.

A blade grazed Toru’s fingertips, embedding itself in the humus.

…A hatchet.

“Nwah!?” Toru yanked his hand back, instinctively bracing himself.

A hatchet was meant for clearing underbrush, splitting firewood, or butchering game—tools designed for rough work, with considerable weight. They relied on mass, not sharpness, to cleave their target.

If such a thing were thrown… a direct hit could easily sever a finger or two.

“Nii-sama…”

From the darkness beyond the trees, a colorless voice called out which was utterly flat, its tone carried almost no trace of emotion.

“What exactly are your intentions?”

“Isn't that my line, you idiot!” Toru shouted. “What the hell was that!?”

“That’s my line, Nii-sama,” came the reply.

Emerging from the shadows was a tall, slender young woman.

Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes and refined features lent her an air of maturity but she was only seventeen. Her long black hair, tied back in a ponytail, gave her a boyish, active impression.

Her long limbs were devoid of frailty; even through her clothing or overlaid with leather armor—her toned, deer-like physique was evident.

Akari Acura.

Toru’s younger sister. Though not related by blood—a stepsister, as it were.

She had been out hunting for moment and had evidently just returned.

In her left hand, she dangled a freshly killed bird. Likely gutted and bled on the spot, though a few drops of un-drained blood fell, drip, drip, adding an odd menace to her presence. A child encountering her on a dark path might wet themselves and wail.

“At this hour of the night,” Akari said, fixing Toru with her dark eyes. “To corner a maiden and demand she undress?”

“…Haah?” Toru let out a dumbfounded sound.

True, he had told Chaika to “take it off,” but—

“Ah...no, it’s not like that I swear,” he said, shaking his head frantically. “I swear it’s not what you’re thinking!”

“Mui? Undressing halted?” Chaika, halfway out of her sleeping clothes, tilted her head in confusion.

Naturally, as sleeping attire, she wore little underneath. In the cold air, her already snow-white skin bore a faint flush, creating a dangerously misleading sight.

“WHY THE HECK ARE YOU STRIPPING!” Toru yelled.

“Toru. Unreasonable,” Chaika said, puffing her cheeks.

“Truly, Nii-sama is incorrigible,” Akari said, shaking her head with a weary air.

Though… her face remained nearly expressionless, making the gesture feel oddly performative. Akari wasn’t so much devoid of emotion as she was spectacularly inept at showing it. Why, Toru didn’t fully understand.

“The moment I look away, you try to ravish a maiden,” she continued.

“Don’t say it like that!” Toru shouted. “Who would—”

“But if that’s Nii-sama’s proclivity, so be it,” Akari interrupted.

“Atleast listen to me!”

“Perverted, lecherous, lolicon, or… undersized—it matters not. To me, you are my beloved Nii-sama. As your sister, it is my duty to accept all of you!”

Akari spread her arms wide, as if inviting, Come, leap into my embrace, Nii-sama!—all while still clutching the dead bird in her left hand. Toru couldn’t shake the feeling he’d be strangled on the spot.

“…And don’t just slip in those extra insults!” 

“Extra insults?”

“Whether it’s big or small is none of your business!”

Or, for that matter, fast or slow too.

“It’s an important matter. A matter of vital importance,” Akari said gravely.

“You don’t need to verify anything! Not as my sister!” Toru shouted. 

“Now, Nii-sama. Disrobe,” Akari commanded in a calm tone.“I firmly—firmly—believe that my Nii-sama isn’t the sort to tell others to undress while refusing to do so himself. That would be utterly illogical.”

“You don’t need to believe that!” Toru roared.

After shouting Toru plucked the hatchet still embedded in the ground, flicked his wrist, and tossed it back to Akari. She caught it effortlessly with one hand, spun it deftly with her fingers, and slid it back into the metal loop at her waist with a soft clink.

“Damn it… what am I even doing in the middle of these mountains?” Toru muttered.

“Preparing camp, obviously,” Akari replied, her tone implying this was self-evident.

“Yeah, exactly! Absolutely right!” Toru snapped irritably, catching the bird Akari tossed to him as if in exchange for the hatchet.

“Now what? Eating it raw might be a bit much,” he said.

“But lighting a fire would be unwise,” Akari pointed out.

She was right. In a mountain like this, nothing would draw more attention than a fire. Even if they could conceal the flames, the smoke and smell would be impossible to hide.

Toru and his companions were fugitives. They had to minimize any risk of detection.

“Pickling it in salt—we don’t have enough salt on hand. Or a container…” Toru mused.

“Toru,” Chaika said, tugging at the hem of his clothes.

At some point, she had changed. No longer half-naked, she now wore her usual white and black outfit.

“Cooking. Magic—application,” she said, pointing to herself.

“Oh… that’s an option. Can you handle it?” Toru asked.

“Ui,” Chaika nodded eagerly, reaching for a black box propped against a nearby tree.

It was tall and narrow—a hexagon stretched to the size of a person.

A coffin.

But when Chaika opened it, what she retrieved was, of course, not a corpse… but mechanical components made of steel and wood. A long barrel. A complex mechanism. A grip, likely carved from wood. With practiced hands, Chaika began assembling the parts.

It didn’t take long… and soon, Chaika held up the completed device for Toru to see.

It was long—likely longer than her own height.

This was—a <Gundo>, a magical device.

Wizards used these staff-like instruments to wield magic. What once required lengthy rituals could now, with this device, be performed with relative ease.

“Toru. Meat. There. Branch. Hang,” Chaika said, wrapping a connection cord around her neck and pointing to a tree beside Toru.

“Like this?” Toru asked, suspending the bird on a branch.

“Ui,” Chaika nodded, aiming her Gundo at the hanging bird.

And then—

“…Aimuru Iai Deruza Torugu Irugu…” Chaika began muttering, closing one eye to peer through the Gundo's rangefinder.

Spell chanting—a ritual to focus the mind, but also, supposedly, a means to shift brain functions by using an unfamiliar linguistic system. The exact mechanics were beyond Toru, a layman in such matters.

“…Fifa Akusomu Ekusepusu Resu…” she continued.

A pale blue phosphorescence flickered around her.

It wasn't flame nor lightning.

This light, existing directly in the void began to branch out in all directions, weaving intricate, bizarre patterns.

These were circuits—channels to direct magical energy for specific effects.

Initially fragmented, they rotated slowly around the <Gundo>, interlocking, and coalescing into a single, grand magic circle.

“—Now. Manifest, The Simmering One!” Chaika declared with brimming confidence.

In that instant, something—something invisible—seemed to converge, pouring into the suspended bird.

No light. No sound.

But Toru could sense that some force had been unleashed.

And……

“Oh—that's impressive!” Toru exclaimed.

Soon, the faint aroma of cooking meat wafted to his nose.

To cook in such a short time without a fire was incredibly convenient afterall.

Toru turned to Chaika, impressed—

“—Ah,” Chaika blinked rapidly.

The next instant…………………………………… the bird exploded, It was too soon to be impressed...

“—Uwah!?” Toru yelped.

Naturally, standing nearby, he was pelted with flying chunks of meat. Even with his confidence in physical prowess, dodging them all was impossible.

“H-Hot…! W-What!?” Toru shouted, peeling a scalding piece of meat from his face and glancing back at the bird.

It was a sorry sight. Most of its flesh and innards had blasted away, leaving only bones and skin dangling limply.

“What happened!?” Toru demanded.

“……”

Chaika stood wide-eyed for a moment—

“—Tehe,” she giggled, smiling sheepishly.

“Don’t just brush it off!” Toru bellowed.

He could guess what happened. She must have misjudged the heating intensity.

The sudden heat inside the bird caused its moisture to boil instantly, vaporizing and expanding explosively—resulting in the burst.

Come to think of it, this girl, Chaika—her focus in critical moments was extraordinary, but otherwise, whether with magic or anything else, she was clumsy, prone to frequent blunders.

“I...forgot…” Toru groaned, picking meat off his clothes.

“Pretty pointless, huh,” Akari commented.

Indeed, scattering heated meat chunks so spectacularly made concealing the smell impossible, even if smoke wasn’t an issue.

“Damn it…” Toru sighed, gazing up at the moonlit night sky. “Was this a mistake… me?”

Saboteur Toru Acura.

His journey, barely begun, was already so fraught with chaos that he couldn’t help but question his life choices.