IBSFW 14

IBSFW

Posted by Harry, Released on November 6, 2025

Chapter – 14

I reluctantly turned back toward her.

The woman glanced around furtively, then tried to lead me somewhere.

I had no hobby of the sort where I’d waste my time being generous to someone in trouble or helping a person who asked for it, so I stood still.

A furrow formed between the woman’s brows.

She looked like she might start to cry.

“You. Which school are you from?”

“Huh? Why do you ask?”

“Because I might have a reason to help you.”

“…Can’t you tell from this robe? Oh — you’re an outsider. The Eight-Winged Phoenix of Exylin. Their specialty is flame magic.”

She raised an index finger to the sky and traced a tiny flame in the air from the tip of her nail.

Magic burned into flame.

I nodded with satisfaction.

I thought maybe I could use this woman as a link to the Crimson Sage.

The Crimson Sage was the contemporary head of the ‘Eight-Winged Phoenix of Exylin.’

I couldn’t expect her to arrange a grand meeting, but at least it would be better than doing nothing for lack of any way.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

The woman took me to a secluded corner of the mage tower.

She checked the surroundings several times; clearly she was about to tell me something she didn’t want others overhearing.

It was a little odd that she would tell someone she’d just met yesterday such a thing, though.

She lowered her voice and whispered.

“Troll blood.”

“You mean you?” I said.

“It’s not that bad! What kind of man are you?” Her whisper broke at my tease.

Yikes. Maybe that was a bit harsh.

Her expression wasn’t good.

Before she really got angry I asked again.

“Yes. What did you say?”

“…Precisely, it’s troll blood.”

“Why?”

“It seems the mage tower called for supplies from each school as part of a large research project. The Eight-Winged Phoenix of Exylin was supposed to deliver several items. But we keep our items in a storage room in the tower. The storage is managed on a rotating schedule by members of the Phoenix; I’m on duty this week. And the troll blood…”

“Has gone missing?”

“The count doesn’t match… There should be fifty-six vials, but twelve are missing. Everything else is intact, but only that item is off. It’s in the delivery list, so that’s a problem. Worse, the delivery is in three days. It’s really strange even thinking about it. With all the security spells layered on that place, a petty thief couldn’t easily get in. I checked it carefully every day, but last night it suddenly disappeared.”

“They’ll suspect you of taking some?”

“Just so you know, I didn’t take them. I don’t even do research that uses troll blood.”

“Wouldn’t it be enough to tell them the truth? That it’s missing?”

“That’s exactly why I’m clinging to you, isn’t it? A teacher in a blind panic might replace my blood with something else to deliver. I could be in danger.”

“You look dangerous.”

“It’s not that I look dangerous, I actually am in danger! I feel my life is threatened! So please help me!”

I exhaled.

She genuinely trembled with fear.

If she was willing to tell a stranger she’d only met last night all this, then it must be urgent.

Maybe she was clutching at straws.

After all, she couldn’t tell the Phoenix mages — and even less likely any mages from other schools.

So she had latched onto me, an outsider and, to top it off, an immigrant.

“With nothing?”

“…You helped me yesterday to find my way.”

“You’re a mage and can’t add and subtract?” I said.

“…….”

She meant it didn’t make business sense.

As I said earlier, finding someone’s way is not a big deal.

Was I really seen as an easy mark by this woman? If so, I was more than willing to teach her a lesson.

I said coolly, “Give me money.”

“Are you a robber?!”

“You don’t sound like someone who expects to be used for free.”

“Okay, okay. How much?”

“Everything you have.”

“You’re a robber!”

“You said your life was in danger, right? If you die, what use is money? I’ll keep you alive, so hand it all over. Or was the life-threatening danger a lie?”

“…….”

Money, or life.

She hesitated, but we both knew that hesitation wouldn’t last.

After all, I was offering to buy her life with money.

She would have to beg, hoarding at my trouser leg, to get me to take whatever she had. She began to nod.

I spoke before she could finish.

“One more thing.”

“What is it?”

“You must let me meet the head of the Eight-Winged Phoenix of Exylin.”

“N—no! Why would you want to meet Rizewin?”

Rizewin. The person I’d been looking for.

Yes. The Crimson Sage.

Money alone would only cover my travel expenses, really. Even if she promised all she had, I knew she wouldn’t give it all up.

She seemed curious why I wanted to meet him, but she didn’t push — probably because she couldn’t.

I had no reason to explain.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You think anyone can meet him? He’s the head of the school.”

“If it can’t be done, forget I asked.”

“You… you’re not planning anything dangerous, are you?”

“If I say ‘no,’ will you believe me? That’s for you to decide.”

“…All right. He’s not exactly someone who’d be easily harmed.”

Huh. Really?

She didn’t look like a fraud, so she must have some way.

I asked her what way, but she didn’t answer.

I had no grounds to demand she tell me; I’d already said I didn’t need to know.

The method wasn’t important anyway.

What I had to think about was meeting Rizewin and what to do afterward; the method of meeting was inconsequential.

Things were moving rather smoothly.

We left the city of Kaindea, crossed another plain, used a gate, and arrived at a meadow where short grass grew thick as turf.

The woman pulled a short, rod-like staff from her robe, scanned the area, and tensed with worry as she spoke.

“Don’t let your guard down. Have you ever fought a troll?”

“No.”

“Right. If we encounter one, just stall for time. Casting takes me a while. To be honest, it takes a long time. Minimum six minutes thirty seconds if the ritual completes quickly. On average it’s about seven minutes.”

Seven minutes?

I felt a bit incredulous.

What kind of spell takes seven minutes to cast?

She read my thoughts and flushed a little.

“You really don’t have to be so mean.”

Her words stung.

“Would make the underworld a popular destination ten times over,” I muttered.

“…That’s why you took the deal, isn’t it? You were confident, so you agreed to help. Right?”

“That’s true.”

“Are you sure you can be trusted?”

“You’ll have to decide.”

“Ugh.”

“If she hits, one shot will turn a troll to ash. I guarantee that,” she said.

“So hold out until then. You’re just stalling for time. I feel like I can hear your inner thoughts.”

“I never thought that!”

She shrieked.

Seven minutes.

That seems short at a glance, but in battle it’s long enough to decide life or death countless times over.

Against a person you could trade blows with twenty times in that span and still have time left.

I resolved not to rely on her support once the fight started.

“Is that the only thing you can do? No quicker version that’s weaker but faster?”

If she could have, she wouldn’t have begged me in the first place.

She was silent.

Which meant no.

What a mage.

I felt I could not trust her with my back.

And she was an immigrant.

As I’d said before, immigrants typically show ten times the growth rate of natives in almost every field—magic included.

If she’d trained for eleven years and had that poor ability, she must be either exceptionally untalented or specialized in alchemy or crafting grimoires. Then it might make sense.

But it still left a bad feeling.

Had I been conned?

No—earlier I’d been convinced by the phoenix robe and the little flame from her finger.

“Come to think of it, you made that small flame in the tower earlier, right?”

“Oh. That was something my master showed me. He didn’t teach me anything else.”

“Who is this master who teaches such useless little flames and seven-minute chants, then refuses to teach anything else? If you don’t know, you should at least try to make it yourself. Are you even a mage?”

“W-well, no matter how I try, I can’t do it…”

She looked pitiful, but I didn’t feel sorry for her.

I decided to handle things on my own.

Trolls were threatening monsters, but they weren’t the sort to use special abilities or swarm in packs.

And I was somewhat confident in a one-on-one fight.

I didn’t need her help, so there was no point in more nagging.

Dragging the dejected woman, I soon spotted one.

This meadow was their habitat.

The troll sniffed and turned its head toward us.

What a great sense of smell.

A message popped up in my mind.

‘Load.

Advice.

“Be careful.”

A foreboding green skin and a ferocious face… a crude wooden club and relentless regeneration. Fifteen-foot plus towering height and a massive body.

Ordinary humans feel pressured just by being looked down on by someone a bit taller than themselves.

Imagine how they’d feel facing a monster that not only dwarfs them but swings a huge club at strangers with murderous intent.

If you witness that club smashing rocks and trees to pieces, people’s will collapses and fear sets in. Overcoming that is the first step in hunting large monsters.’

“Now that you mention it…” the woman said.

She still had the nerve to speak as the troll thundered toward us. Brave or foolish, I couldn’t tell which.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“How long since you immigrated?”

“Why do you ask? …Fine. Don’t make such a scary face. It’s been eleven years.”

“You started learning magic when?”

“Also eleven years. My first summoning was at the tower.”

Eleven years? If it were eleven months I’d get it.

Put simply, that’s a hundred and ten years’ worth of training compared to the locals.

Still, with that level of training she was barely competent.

But the Phoenix wouldn’t accept such idiots—unless she was only talented at making reagents or grimoires.