Kays Translations

Chapter 28: Amulet

To gain anything from an enemy, one must first understand how the enemy’s mind works.

To ensure the Mushroom Biohazard Pandemic wasn’t merely a calamity to endure, I began researching using the mushroom that had grown on my head.

War, disasters, and plagues are all things better avoided, but there is always something to learn from them. Wars advance science, disasters strengthen preparedness, and plagues drive medical progress. I hoped the same would hold true for this pandemic that we had just survived.

In the city center, medical teams from various districts are working hard to uncover the mechanisms and prevent recurrence through autopsies and other means. I, too, wanted to put the mushroom to good use in my own way.

Specifically, I had high hopes of crafting magic tools: staffs that could seal magic, absorb magic energy, or self-repair.

The virulent mushrooms suppress their hosts’ magic.

When plucked, they drain magic and physical energy from their hosts and then regenerate rapidly.

If I could unravel the principle behind this, the possibilities for staff manufacturing would be endless. The mere thought of it alone intrigued me to no end.

As a precaution, I built an isolated dissection tent in the corner of the backyard and began by dissecting the grotesque human-faced mushroom.

Its basic structure resembled that of common mushrooms: a cap with gills underneath, a stalk extending from the cap, and hyphae sprouting from the stalk’s base to invade its host.

However, upon splitting the stalk, I found a fibrous mass resembling a heart. It was eerie.

Is it an animal? A fungus? I couldn’t tell. I figured the university’s department of monster studies would investigate that aspect.

When I dissected the fibrous heart, I found a tiny gremlin embedded within it.

The presence of a gremlin confirmed that this mushroom was indeed a type of monster. While I’d encountered animal and plant-based magic creatures before, this was my first time encountering a fungal one—and such a gremlin as well.

The gremlin, extracted with tweezers, was roughly spherical and only 0.1mm in diameter—smaller than a flea.

But under a loupe on a petri dish, its unique characteristics became quite apparent.

The gremlin harvested from the mushroom exhibited a marbled pattern in two colors: milky white and gold.

A marbled gremlin—this was a first for me and it was very intriguing.

All the gremlins I’d seen before had been monochrome.

For instance, gremlins that grew by absorbing electricity were a plain milky white, similar to one of the two colors of this mushroom gremlin. Magic creatures produced gremlins in various monochrome colors, but never a mix. Even magic stones with impurities were monochrome overall.

Yet here was a marbled gremlin—this counts as a very rare discovery.

Was this marbled pattern unique to this individual mushroom, or did all mushrooms of this type produce such gremlins? I was curious about this.

Since I couldn’t determine this with just the mushroom from my head, I sent a letter via the Blue Witch, asking for 50 mushroom samples from the Seer Mage.

Half the samples were from mild cases, and the other half from severe cases.

The size of the gremlins extracted showed a stark difference between mild and severe cases.

Gremlins from mild cases measured 0.1mm, while those from severe cases were 0.5mm.

The severe mushrooms drained magic energy far more aggressively than their mild counterparts, and the difference in absorbed energy likely accounted for the size disparity.

Interestingly, the color pattern of the gremlins was consistent across both mild and severe cases: all were marbled in two colors.

One of the colors was always milky white, while the other varied randomly.

I examined all 51 marbled gremlins and found no discernible pattern in the colors.

I hypothesized that the variation in color stemmed from the blood of the host.

Previously, during my experiments on dissolving and reforming gremlins, I discovered how their coloration worked.

The color of gremlins extracted from magic creatures was derived from some component in their blood.

If this were true for humans as well, then the coloration of the mushroom’s gremlins might reflect the nutrients it absorbed through its hyphae.

Under this hypothesis, the fixed milky white of the marbled gremlins came from the mushroom itself, while the other random color came from the blood of the host.

To test this, I extracted my own blood and mixed it with a dissolved, plain milky-white gremlin formed from electricity before allowing it to reform.

The result was a golden gremlin.

Comparing this golden gremlin to the marbled gremlin from the mushroom on my head, the colors matched perfectly.

“Bingo! Nailed it!”

Moments like this, when a hypothesis is spot-on, are the most satisfying. The feeling can’t even be explained.

Excited though I was, I reminded myself to collect another sample for confirmation.

A single data point could just be coincidence, after all.

This time, I asked the Blue Witch to provide her blood.

The Blue Witch had only narrowly survived her ordeal less than a month ago.

It wouldn’t have been surprising if she’d refused my request to donate blood, but she came to Okutama without complaint after receiving my summon through her familiar.

When she sat at my workbench and extended her arm, her body stiffened as I approached with the syringe.

Really? Are you a child?

“It’s all right~ This will be over in no time~ Okay, just a little prick~ All done~. Please press the cotton swab on it for a while~.”

“What!? It’s already over? That fast? I didn’t even feel a prick.”

“I’m just that good at it.”

“That’s not some universal excuse, you know. Well, whatever.”

It wasn’t just because I’m skilled that I managed to draw the Blue Witch’s blood painlessly. I’d simply picked up some tricks from drawing my own blood. Then again, maybe it really is just a matter of skill…

Even though the Blue Witch was no longer needed after the blood draw, she said she wanted to observe, so I let her stay and watch as I worked on the process of dissolving and re-coagulating Gremlins (with blood components mixed in). She didn’t say much and truly just observed, but the time passed peacefully, with a nice relaxed vibe.

The re-coagulated Gremlin I retrieved from the furnace was a stunning, vivid blue. Hm. It seems like the color of the Gremlin is indeed influenced by the blood used. Whether it’s from a monster, human, or witch, the components in their blood seem to color the Gremlins. When I experimented with the blood of a wild crow before, there was no color change… Seems like there’s a rule or condition behind this.

While that’s an intriguing mystery, my main focus is on the marbled Gremlins from the mushrooms. Time to stay on track.

Next, I’ll try mixing two differently colored Gremlins and merging them into a single marbled piece. At least visually, it should resemble the naturally occurring marbled mushroom Gremlins.

Since they’ve been through the dissolving and re-coagulating process, their function as magic conduits is probably gone. But even just comparing artificially created marbled Gremlins with natural ones could yield valuable insights—like how the colors mix or whether the boundaries between the colors are structurally weaker.

As I stoked the furnace again and began melting two sets of Gremlins—white & blue and white & gold—the Blue Witch, who had been sitting on a tree stump deep in thought, suddenly spoke.

“About these blood-colored Gremlins…”

“Hm?”

“They’re the same color as our familiar’s eyes, aren’t they? Mine are blue, and yours are gold.”

“…Huh. You’re right.”

I nodded, recalling it now that she mentioned it.

The magic of familiars’ eyes varies between individuals.

When I use it, it creates golden, jewel-like cat’s eyes.

The Blue Witch’s familiar, on the other hand, has eerie, sickly blue eyes.

I’ve also heard that the Eye Witch’s familiar has its own distinct coloration.

Hmm. The eyes have blood vessels. Based on the spell texts for familiar magic, it wouldn’t be surprising if their coloration is influenced by our blood and inherent magic traits.

As we debated the individual differences in how the same spell manifests, I kept an eye on the furnace, eventually retrieving the trial marbled Gremlins.

I took them out too early, so the rapid cooling caused cracks, but both the white & blue and white & gold Gremlins had blended roughly as I’d intended.

Hm. Shortening the heating time might produce cleaner stripes.

As I inspected the marbled Gremlins from various angles with tongs, the Blue Witch suddenly snatched one from my hand.

“Hey, what the—!”

“Wait. This is… This is…?”

“What? What’s going on? Tell me.”

“Be quiet. I’m confirming something.”

With those words, the Blue Witch stood motionless, still holding the Gremlin, as if in a trance.

I waited, growing a little irritated.

What is she doing? Did something click for her?

After a good ten minutes or so, the Blue Witch finally snapped out of it and handed the Gremlin back to me.

“Sorry, I was manipulating its magic flow. I checked it out, and it seems this has the ability to enhance magic recovery.”

“Enhance magic recovery?”

I was a little taken aback.

Enhancing recovery? This thing? Like some healing power stone?

Of course, the whole experiment was aimed at discovering some kind of effect, so I wasn’t shocked that it did something.

But enhancing magic recovery? Not absorbing magic, sealing spells, or self-regenerating? That’s unexpected.

“Specifically, how does it work?”

Intrigued, I asked for details. The Blue Witch pointed to the white & blue and white & gold marbled Gremlins, then began explaining.

“There’s something odd about the flow of magic. The white & blue marbled Gremlin with my blood in it enhances my magic recovery. The magic flows like this…”

She gestured in the air as if drawing an invisible map but then stopped.

“No, there’s no point in explaining this to someone who can’t sense magic flow. Anyway, if I hold the white & blue Gremlin, my magic recovery is noticeably enhanced. It’s just a feeling, but it’s probably a 2–3% boost. But if you hold the white & blue Gremlin, your recovery doesn’t improve. It’s the white & gold Gremlin that enhances your recovery.”

“So, if someone holds a marbled Gremlin mixed with their own blood, it enhances their magic recovery?”

I stroked my chin, summarizing her explanation concisely.

The Blue Witch nodded in agreement.

“Strictly speaking, it doesn’t need to be carried on your person. As long as the marble is within one or two meters of you, it will activate its effect.”

“So, right now, my magic recovery rate is faster?”

“Yes.”

“…I don’t feel anything at all…”

“I can tell. It’s slight, but your recovery rate is definitely faster. No doubt about it.”

The Blue Witch declared this with confidence.

Even so, I couldn’t feel a thing. She says my magic recovery speed has increased, but I have no such sensation whatsoever.

Well, she did say it was only a 2–3% increase, and humans can’t sense magic to begin with. There’s no way I’d notice an improvement in recovery speed.

If the Blue Witch hadn’t been here, I might never have realized this effect existed. Glad I called her over.

I rolled the marble gremlin around in my hand, thinking.

A faster magic recovery rate isn’t just interesting—it’s incredibly valuable.

If expended magic power recovers quickly, even someone with a small magic capacity could cast spells continuously.

But 2–3%? That’s practically just for peace of mind.

…No, wait! The low recovery rate could be due to the cracks in the marble. If I make a bigger gremlin, the recovery rate might increase substantially.

Bigger is always better when it comes to gremlins, after all.

It’s too early to be disappointed.

The scourge of the Mushroom Plague has given me a foothold to extract benefit.

Now, all that’s left is data. Collect the data. Once I gather enough, patterns will emerge.

I spent the next month producing a large number of marble gremlins in the blast furnace, collecting statistical data.

The data revealed that the maximum increase in magic recovery speed with a self-blood-infused marble gremlin was 5%. This effect was consistent across all colors and species—whether witch or human, the recovery rate did not vary.

The factor with the greatest influence on recovery rate was the mixing ratio between milky-white gremlins (produced using electric gremlins) and the gremlin’s unique color. A 2:8 ratio maximized recovery speed.

The pattern or size of the marble had minimal impact as long as the marble remained visibly distinct and at least 0.1mm in size. If the marble was mixed too thoroughly, to the point where its pattern was unrecognizable, or reduced to less than 0.1mm, the effect disappeared.

Additionally, cracks in the marble had no effect on magic recovery speed, as long as the marble didn’t break entirely. Shape also had no impact on recovery speed.

In the end, even after optimizing the process to its fullest, the effect remained minor. Still, a boost in magic recovery speed is never a disadvantage. Embedding the marble in a staff would enhance its utility. For witches or mages with immense magical reserves, even a 5% boost is far from insignificant.

However, I decided against embedding the marble in my staff.

It just didn’t feel right—primarily from a design perspective.

Embedding it in a staff seemed less versatile. Instead, it made more sense to use the marble as standalone accessories, like rings or necklaces.

Since size and shape didn’t influence the effect, this freedom allowed for creative designs in crafting protective amulets.

Not everything needs to be crammed into a magic staff. It’s like having an internet-connected rice cooker that walks on two legs—it’s just overkill. Functions should be separated when appropriate.

In fact, unlike a magic staff, which you only hold when casting spells, the benefits of improved magic recovery are best experienced continuously. Accessories, which can be worn all the time while keeping your hands free, excel in this regard.

As the culmination of this research, I crafted a 30mm-sized white-and-gold marble gremlin infused with my blood. Drawing inspiration from my starting point, the celestial Octa-Meteorite, I carved the marble into a star shape and turned it into a pendant-style protective amulet.

Wearing the amulet around my neck, with the Octa-Meteorite in hand, I struck a pose in front of the workshop mirror, thoroughly enjoying myself.

Amazing! Absolutely amazing! I look so much like a proper wizard!

This isn’t just cosplay. Both the amulet and the magic staff have purpose. They’re imbued with magic, grounded in principles and ingenuity, crafted to be what they are.

It’s deeply moving—and it sends my sense of wonder into overdrive.

While I was striking various poses in front of the mirror, lamenting my inability to take selfies, the Blue Witch, who had frequently visited during my research to help test the amulet’s performance with her witch-level magic control, poked me with her Kyanos.

“So, where’s my protective amulet?”

“Huh? I didn’t make one.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you don’t like accessories, do you?”

I replied, puzzled. The Blue Witch tilted her head in confusion.

“No…? Did I ever say that?”

“Wait, didn’t you? I feel like you said something like that when I gave you an accessory before.”

“…I don’t recall that.”

“Did you not?”

Both of us tilted our heads in unison.

If neither of us could remember clearly, it was probably just a misunderstanding.

“So, that’s why you’ve only been giving your accessory prototypes to Kei-chan? You thought I didn’t like accessories?”

“Yeah… wasn’t that it? Huh, weird.”

“I don’t remember saying anything like that… Oh? …Wait, uh… yeah, I never said I disliked accessories. Nope. If Dairi is making a protective amulet for me, I’ll gratefully accept it.”

I wasn’t sure what was going on, but apparently, the Blue Witch’s accessory equipment slots were empty.

If that’s the case, I might as well make one for her.

After all, I’d love for someone who calls herself a witch to look the part. When I first met her, all she did was clutch a raw magic stone in her hand.

And now, here she is, equipped with a magic staff and a protective amulet. From such humble beginnings to a fully equipped witch—what a glow-up. Sniffle.

I created a custom protective amulet for her using her blood. It was a white-and-blue marble pendant shaped like a six-petal snowflake.

The six-petal snowflake, a natural wonder formed by the artistic harmony of ice and cold, perfectly suited the Blue Witch, who specialized in ice magic.

She seemed to like the amulet I made. She hooked her finger on the pendant hanging from her neck and twirled it around, grinning happily.

Glad it was a hit.

The research results from over a month of work—this protective amulet—felt a little underwhelming, considering it was a product born from the massive Mushroom Pandemic disaster.

Then again, my past projects, like ultra-amplified multi-layered magic or the 85% magic backflow prevention barrier, were arguably over-the-top.

This was normal.

Cars were slower than horses at first.

Airplanes could only fly for a minute when they were invented.

But technology advances.

The protective amulet might currently cap at a 5% increase in magic recovery speed, but someday, I believe it’ll reach 10%, 50%, or beyond.

For now, I’ll leave the performance improvement research to the magic university.

Gathering data alone is exhausting, and this kind of work is more of a university’s job than mine.

The university is resuming classes next month after the break, so I figure I can finally dump this work on them guilt-free.

Now, I’ll take a breather and mess around by making a Seven-Branched Sword-style novelty magic wand.

Protective amulet research? Yeah, the rest is all yours. Good luck! Thanks in advance!

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