"I can't just give any horse to Thunderstep's prized student."
"...I'm truly honored."
Ihan struggled to keep his expression in check.
Even when you didn't particularly like the kindness a professor offered, keeping your face neutral was crucial.
A grumpy professor was scarier than most demons.
Lightningstep walked over with slow, heavy steps and stopped in front of a particular horse.
It was a truly beautiful white horse.
Not especially large or small—just well-built, with toned muscles and a graceful presence.
The white horse stared at Ihan and blinked. There was no trace of aggression in its eyes.
If Ihan had been a bit younger, he might have thought, "Maybe the professor really did pick out a good one for me."
But Ihan had seen it all—war on land, sea, and sky.
He didn't trust things so easily.
"What if it's actually a demon disguised as a white horse?"
There had to be a catch!
"This horse is a really fine one. But it's also the most ill-tempered and difficult in the whole stable. If you can tame this one, you'll be able to handle any other monster with ease," Lightningstep said with a cheerful expression.
"Of course, it might be a bit too much for a first-year."
"If that's the case, maybe we should reconsid—"
"But you handled that thunderbird so skillfully! If anyone can do this, it's you, Wardanaz! I believe in you!"
"Damn it."
So the better you did, the harder the challenge became?!
How could something be this irrational and unfair?
While Ihan and Lightningstep were having their little moment, the other students were still clinging to hope, trying to interact with the horses in various ways.
"You're a good boy, right? Nice and gent—AH! It bit me!"
"Stop spitting! Seriously, stop spitting already!"
"It headbutted me!?"
Of course, the horses weren't making things easy.
As the chaos continued, Nillia cautiously spoke to her friends.
"Maybe... we should try actually getting to know the horses first?"
"We are trying!"
"I mean, don't just run up and pet them out of nowhere. Try something else—like coming early to brush them, clean the stalls, feed them…"
Nillia didn't think she was saying anything strange.
When she worked with the Shadow Patrol, even taming unfamiliar beasts required this level of effort.
If you didn't invest time and care, the other side wouldn't open up to you.
"Do we really have to go that far?"
"Come to the stables every morning?!"
"?!"
To her surprise, the other students balked at the idea.
Even among the students from the Black Tortoise Tower, many were from wealthy households.
Taking care of horses? That was for servants or slaves. Not something they should have to do.
"Are you all idiots?"
Nillia almost said, "Do you still think we're outside the school?"—but held her tongue.
If she said something like that, she'd just end up looking like the weird one.
So she swallowed her frustration.
"Fine. I'll just do it myself. If the horses start listening to me later, maybe the others will too."
As Nillia shuffled away, ears drooping, Ihan and Yonner came up to her.
"Nillia. Have you picked a horse yet?"
"We're planning to come out every morning to care for them. Want to join us?"
"...Yes!!"
Nillia hugged Ihan and Yonner tightly, tears brimming in her eyes.
Real friends didn't need to be in the same tower.
Ihan and Yonner stared at her, baffled.
"What's up with her?"
"Who knows...?"
After the Basic Mount Training lecture ended, Ihan was headed to Professor Thunderstep's cabin—with Professor Lightningstep in tow.
Or more accurately, he was being dragged along. Ihan wasn't exactly in a position to say no to Lightningstep.
"We're he—oh, no, wait."
Ihan definitely saw it.
The moment Thunderstep spotted an elder family member, his eyes widened in panic and his face visibly paled.
"...What brings you here?"
"Do I need a reason to visit my nephew? Move aside. Goodness! Still living out here in a little shack tucked away in the corner like this? And look at the state of the place! Just look at all this dust!"
"I—I've been keeping it tidy, actually."
Thunderstep tried to defend himself.
To be fair, ever since Ihan had started staying there, the cabin had become quite organized.
"Tidy? You call this tidy? Alchemy's all well and good, but it's time you found yourself a proper partner and settled down with some children. Are you planning to live alone forever? The elders are worried about you—"
"..."
Thunderstep looked at Ihan as if begging him to intervene and change the subject. Ihan couldn't bring himself to ignore that desperate look.
"Um, Professor, should I prepare something to eat?"
"Ah, yes. Of course—we've got a guest, so we should at least feed him. You stay out of the kitchen, Thunderstep. Your cooking is awful. I'll make something delicious in Eastern style."
"I—I'm not really a fan of Eastern-style food, though..."
"What was that?"
"Nothing at all."
Thunderstep muttered something, then fell silent. Looking to Ihan again, he asked in a desperate tone:
"So... everything going okay with you?"
That voice was practically screaming: Please, for the love of all things holy, change the topic.
Ihan hesitated, wondering what kind of story he should tell.
Should he bring up joining the Prisinga Order?
"Wait a second. That staff…"
Only then did Thunderstep seem to notice that Ihan's staff was unfamiliar.
"Where'd you get that?"
"Oh, this?" Ihan hesitated for a moment.
Then he asked carefully, "You'll keep it a secret, right?"
"..."
Thunderstep was taken aback.
He'd just asked a casual question to steer the conversation—and now this kind of response?
And the fact that Ihan was even saying that… It had to be something shady.
"...Fine. I'll keep your secret."
"My boy, our kin always keeps secrets," Lightningstep chimed in from the chopping board, having paused his knife work to wash his hands and join the conversation.
"Whatever the secret, if it's shared over a meal, it stays at the table. But honestly, what kind of 'ingredients' are you living off of? Just bread and meat?"
"I told you, I can manage just fine on my own…!"
"That's exactly why your health's no good! For a dwarf, an Eastern-style diet is ideal. Forget wheat—you need rice. I'll make you a hearty stew."
Thunderstep's face was overtaken with sadness.
Still trying to change the topic, the dwarf professor turned back to Ihan.
"So about that staff—how did you get it? I can sense a strong life force from it…"
Ihan gave a heavily edited summary of what had happened that night.
—How he'd just casually gone for a walk in the mountains, and happened to meet a talking oak tree…
"...You randomly went for a walk deep into the mountain at night???"
"Yes. That's what a real walk is, right? Quiet, secluded... away from everything."
"..."
Thunderstep and Lightningstep both stared at Ihan, dumbfounded. But Ihan didn't waver.
"He was trying to run away."
"Yup, that was definitely an escape attempt."
After all, what other reason would a freshman have to hike into a remote mountain on a weekend night?
"But wait—did you say a talking oak tree? Did you solve its riddle?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"It's a fairly well-known spirit. So I guess that staff was a gift from the talking oak tree."
Thunderstep nodded, intrigued, and examined the staff.
Talking oak trees were famously picky and annoying, but their hidden knowledge and power were no joke.
The staff Ihan held radiated the living energy of a tree spirit. It was certainly not something you came across every day.
"Do you know what this staff does, exactly?" Ihan asked with a hopeful voice.
Of course he was curious—how could he not be?
The talking oak tree had made it sound like this was something pretty impressive...
"It's great for farming," Lightningstep answered, setting a bubbling pork stew down on the wooden table.
The stew had been made by stir-frying well-aged kimchi (technically called something else in the East, but Ihan just thought of it as kimchi), throwing in a bunch of seasonings and thick chunks of pork, then boiling it to perfection. The smell alone stirred Ihan's soul.
Being Korean, Ihan found this traditional Eastern Empire cooking style both familiar and comforting.
Thunderstep, on the other hand, looked utterly defeated.
There were green onions and hot peppers in the pot. Just the color told him it was going to be spicy.
"He's got a student over, and he's still serving this spicy Eastern food like it's no big deal…"
"Thanks for the meal."
"?!"
Thunderstep was startled to see Ihan ladle a generous scoop of rice into his bowl and dive into the stew without hesitation.
He's eating it just fine!?
"Isn't it too spicy? Does he like spicy food or something?!"
"As expected of Thunderstep's prized student—he knows how to eat too. Well done, Wardanaz," Lightningstep said with a proud smile.
The Empire was vast, and many people didn't handle food from outside their home regions very well.
Compared to them, watching Ihan eat heartily was deeply satisfying.
The kind of eating style that won over old dwarves everywhere!
"And you, why are you picking at your food like that? Eat properly!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
Thunderstep, meanwhile, was eating even more slowly than his student. As the dwarf and human ate, Lightningstep continued the earlier conversation.
"That staff is inhabited by tree spirits, so it's great for nurturing or growing things. It's literally a living staff. You don't find ones like that easily—it's a rare item."
"Uh... is that all it does?"
"Well… who knows? That's the main effect, anyway."
Helping crops grow wasn't bad, of course.
But it was really far from what Ihan had been hoping for.
"It's for farming…?"
He hadn't expected the staff to make him invincible or let him learn magic in his dreams or anything like that—but he had at least hoped it would help him control his mana...
"Well, that works out nicely. Weren't you planning to start a garden anyway?"
"That's true."
"A garden?"
Lightningstep perked up with interest at the conversation between Ihan and Thunderstep.
"Aren't you from the Wardanaz family?"
"This kid's a bit... unusual."
"He certainly seems that way. So, what are you planning to grow?"
"Anything edible, really. I just want to try out a bunch of things."
"He's gotten into Eastern cooking, so he was talking about planting things like cabbage and green onions."
"Is that so?"
Thunderstep's comment seemed to genuinely please Lightningstep, who spoke with growing enthusiasm.
"If you want, I can help you out."
"Wait, really?"
"Of course. I've done my fair share of gardening too."
Ihan stepped outside the cabin with Lightningstep.
Out back was a patch of empty ground he'd set aside to turn into a garden.
He'd been quietly working the soil in his free time, so it was in pretty good shape—ready for planting whenever he got his hands on seeds or sprouts.
"You'll want to start with the things that take longer to grow. Potatoes or sweet potatoes would be really useful."
Lightningstep knew all too well how harsh life could be for first-year students here.
Crops like potatoes and sweet potatoes, which could actually fill your belly, would be invaluable.
"They'll take at least two months to grow, but if you plant them now, you'll be grateful later."
"You're absolutely right."
Ihan agreed—what Lightningstep said made a lot of sense. He accepted the seed potatoes and sweet potato slips and began planting them carefully in a section of the garden.
"…He's from the Wardanaz family, right?"
Lightningstep found himself slightly taken aback as he watched Ihan work.
Anyone who had done any labor before would immediately recognize Ihan's practiced movements.
He was the picture of a natural-born worker—experienced, efficient, confident.
…Is he really from a prestigious magical family like the Wardanaz?
"...?"
Thunderstep had stepped out of the cabin a little late and was casually observing.
Something felt off.
"Did you come by earlier this weekend to plant those?"
"Huh? No—I just planted them right now."
"Really?"
Thunderstep tilted his head.
"He just planted them?"
Then why did it already look like some of them were sprouting?
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