Kays Translations

Chapter 2: Wind Magic

At fifteen, I went to the church for my Blessing Ceremony, accompanied by my mother.
It was a little embarrassing to be escorted like a child, but when I saw that everyone else had their parents with them too, I felt relieved.

One by one, names were called, and people stepped forward before the priest, knelt at the altar, and offered prayers to the goddess Felicienne.
Those who received magic or skills were enveloped in a faint light — an unmistakable sign — after which the priest instructed them to place their palms on the magic measurement tablet.

That tablet not only measured magic power but also revealed what kind of magic or skill a person had been granted.

Whenever someone received offensive magic, healing magic, or storage magic — and their magic power was 65 or above — cheers would erupt from the crowd.

I was the third son, but my parents had never treated me differently from my brothers. I had no complaints about our life.
If I could work with my hands, I’d be happy — but the idea of being sent off to work as a servant somewhere didn’t appeal to me.
Since professions here followed an apprenticeship system, I figured that if I got a decent magic blessing, I could become an adventurer and live a modest, steady life.

If possible, I wanted to see the world. That was about as much ambition as I had.

When the priest called, “Leon, offer your thanks to the Creator Goddess Felicienne for your peaceful daily life,” I stepped forward, knelt before the painting of the goddess, and prayed sincerely:
“It doesn’t have to be a strong spell—please grant me a magic that allows me to live comfortably.”

A soft light seeped through my closed eyelids, and the people behind me cheered — I had received magic.

Maybe it’s just in my nature as a former Japanese person to pray for worldly blessings, but I was still amazed that my wish was granted so easily. Following the priest’s instructions, I placed my palm on the tablet.

“Leon, you’ve been granted Wind Magic… As for the skill you seek—it will depend on your training.
And your magic power… is 93.”

“Hey, did you hear that? Wind magic, with magic power 93!”
“Damn, I got fire magic and only scored 47! Wanna trade?”
“But what does ‘skill depends on training’ even mean?”
“Wind magic’s useless anyway. Poor guy, the goddess really gave him a dud.”
“That girl from his family got water magic too. Guess they’re an unlucky bunch.”
“Nah, she also got an apothecary skill, so she’ll do fine once she finishes training.”

I asked the priest.

“What does it mean that my desired skill depends on training?”

He nodded.

“There are skills granted directly at the ceremony, and skills that appear later through practice. Some people simply have a higher affinity for developing new skills.”

“So… if I practice, I can gain whatever skill I want?”

“Not exactly…” 

He said. 

“You can only acquire skills suited to your nature. If a man who wants to be a knight spends his time practicing something unrelated, it’s wasted effort. But if he trains in sword or spear combat, then swordsmanship or spear skills are more likely to awaken.”

I see.
So for an adventurer, training in the right areas would make it easier to gain new skills — maybe that was the “option” tied to my wind magic.

After thanking the priest and stepping aside for the next person, I went back to my mother, who looked at me with a slightly worried expression.

“Wind magic, huh? You said you wanted to be an adventurer, but that might make things a bit difficult.” 

She said.

“Well, most adventurers can’t use magic anyway. I’ll keep helping Ted and the others for another year. I’m good at gathering herbs, so I could probably make a living just doing that.”

“That’s fine. As long as you can live on your own, do as you like. Besides, you can envelop yourself in mana, can’t you?”

“You knew?”

“My mother could do it too.” 

She said with a smile. 

“When I saw how you used your life magic, it reminded me of her. You can’t do that without exceptional control over your mana. When you wrap yourself in it, your senses sharpen, and your magic becomes more refined. You’ve been hiding it—for Ralph’s sake, right?”

“Yeah. Ever since he found out I could use life magic, he’s been acting differently toward me.”

“Well, that’s in the hands of the gods.”

She said softly.

Since my life magic had awakened, my mother had been teaching me how to sense and manipulate mana.

Using knowledge I remembered from light novels, I even learned to spread mana throughout my body—to wrap myself in it.

When I joined Ted’s group for herb gathering, I used that mana shroud to practice detecting presences and movement.

It didn’t make me superhuman, of course, but my senses did become sharper. Still, I kept quiet about it. Ted’s party — Lynas’s Gale — already had a scout named Mintz, whose detection range was about sixty meters. Mine was only around forty, so there was no need to cause trouble.

If my skill development really “depended on training,” then I’d better get to work.

As for wind magic, I’d start with the classic: a small whirlwind. But I’d better practice where no one could see me.

That evening, after dinner, I decided to try out my new wind magic.

My mana control was solid, so I divided my magic into a hundred parts, used just one, and whispered while picturing the spell:

“Whirlwind!”

I gently released my mana, and a cool breeze drifted through the open window. It was dark outside, so I couldn’t see much—but wind isn’t visible anyway.

I imagined dry leaves swirling in a winter gust, and the refreshing flow that entered the room made me think I’d succeeded.

Just like Mother said—something her own mother had once told her—I felt mana flowing from my arm, and the breeze that followed confirmed it.

The next morning, as I left home and headed for the west gate, I enveloped myself in mana again—and the scenery changed.

I was stunned to realize I could see the flow of the wind.

When I received my blessing, I hadn’t noticed anything like this, but now, with mana cloaking my senses, the world looked different.

So, by combining my wind magic with heightened perception, I could literally see air currents.

There was still a year before my coming-of-age day. Plenty of time to experiment.
First, though, I’d need to develop the skills an adventurer would need to survive.

As usual, I waited by the west gate until Ted and the rest of Lynas’s Gale arrived.

“Leon, did you get any magic?” 

Ted asked.

“Yeah, wind magic.” 

I said. 

“The priest said my desired skill would depend on training.”

“Wind magic, huh? Useless junk—might as well throw it away!” 

Marco, the fire mage, snorted.

“Come on, Marco,” 

Edga the spearman laughed. 

“You can cast fire spells, but you can’t hit a thing with lightning.”

“If his skill depends on practice, he could turn out pretty good.” 

Scott added, the party’s bow user. 

“Took me seven years to finally get my Archery skill. You’ve got potential, kid.”

“Still,” 

I said.

“it’s not guaranteed. You only get skills that match what you train for.”

Ted grinned. 

“Well, for us who earn our keep around town, we don’t need any fancy magic or skills. Let’s just take it easy.”

At the front was Mintz the scout, followed by Marco the fire mage and Edga the spearman.
I took my usual place behind Edga, with Scott the archer, Henry the swordsman, and our leader Ted bringing up the rear.

Our party, Lynas’s Gale, set off once again.

We exited through the west gate and headed north across the plains.
Today, the wind sweeping over the grasslands was especially visible to me.

Since I was walking in the middle of the line, I left the scouting to Mintz and focused on observing the movement of the grass blades around us while sniffing the scent carried on the wind.
When I wrap myself in mana and sharpen my five senses, not only my sight but also my hearing and sense of smell become more acute — which is quite handy for finding herbs.

Today, we were heading toward a place where purple sap grass — the basic ingredient for potions — and lotusweed flowers, used for cough medicine, grow.

After about an hour of walking, a stench strong enough to make my nose curl hit me.
Edgar, walking ahead, suddenly stopped and made a bird-call “chichi!” before raising his right arm at a right angle — the signal to halt.
Ted, bringing up the rear, quietly approached Edgar and asked, “What is it?”
It seemed Ted couldn’t smell it.

“I caught a faint whiff of goblins…”

There was barely any wind, and the tall grass hardly moved, making it difficult to tell which way the air was flowing.
I hadn’t told them that I could sense things through mana, so I pretended not to notice the smell.
Still, goblin magic stones sell for 3,000 daras apiece — definitely not something to ignore.

I picked up some dry grass at my feet, crumbled it between my fingers, and tossed the fragments into the air to check the wind direction.
The tiny bits drifted slightly to the right of our current path — the upwind side. I pointed that way.
Ted, who had been watching me, exchanged glances with Edgar and did the same test, confirming the direction of the scent.

“No doubt about it.”

“Let’s go. If they’re goblins, we can make good money.”

At Ted’s order, Mintz took the lead again, guiding us toward the source of the smell.
He trudged forward, pushing aside grass that reached higher than his waist. Because of that, his course began drifting slightly off.
The scent carried by the wind was shifting away from us, and I stopped, tilting my head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Give me a sec.”

Pretending to sniff the air again, I walked up to Mintz and took another “whiff.”
Of course, I didn’t actually smell goblins from there, so I stepped back a few paces, inhaled again, and pointed toward the true direction of the scent.
Mintz followed me back, sniffed, and nodded.

“You’ve got a better nose than me. You lead us by scent.”

He said that, and when I looked to Ted for confirmation, Ted compared us both, then nodded.

We advanced through the tall grass, choosing the sparser patches, following the direction of the odor.
Then, a much stronger stench rolled in on the breeze — everyone’s faces tensed at once.
They silently drew their weapons. Mintz went ahead to confirm the situation while I moved behind Edgar, gripping the short spear substitute I usually carried.

Mintz returned, signaling with his fingers — a group of seven goblins.
Ted looked ready to signal formation orders, but he hesitated for a moment, thinking.

“What’s wrong, leader? Let’s just take them out already.”

Ted pulled a short spear from his magic pouch and said to me:

“Leon, you’ve had your coming-of-age ceremony now. If you plan to be an adventurer one day, it’s time to steel yourself.”

He tossed me the short spear.

“Follow Edgar’s instructions and make your first thrust. Edgar, keep an eye on him.”

Ted grinned as he took away the stick I’d been holding and gave the signal to take positions.
I’d practiced thrusting, striking, and sweeping moves in my spare time, but this was a real fight.
Instead of trembling with excitement, I felt like I might actually wet myself.

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