Ch. 31

[Master? Master!]

Something long and thin smacked my face repeatedly.

That hurt.

Frowning, I opened my eyes slightly and realized—it was Rai’s tail.

What kind of spirit wakes up its master like this?

I grabbed the wagging tail and flung it away.

“How insolent… Ugh…”

Rai crashed into the wall, slid down, and crumpled onto the floor. Satisfied, I buried myself back under the covers.

I needed more sleep. We’d be traveling to the next city in the afternoon, and who knew when I’d get to sleep in a proper bed again?

[Master! You said you’d start mana training at dawn from today! You told me to wake you up no matter what!]

“Who, me?”

[Yes! Are you skipping it?]

Now that I thought about it… I might have said something like that last night in a brief surge of motivation.

It was true that I constantly lacked mana.

With a groan, I finally opened my eyes and got out of bed.

It was still too early—there wasn’t even water prepared for washing yet.

I rubbed my face and, trying to shake off the drowsiness, went straight to the window.

The crisp dawn air hit my cheeks, helping me wake up slightly.

The sky was still tinged with a soft blue hue—an unfamiliar sight to someone like me who enjoyed sleeping in.

“Yawn…”

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the cold morning air.

They say the best time to train mana is at dawn when mana is at its purest.

Since I was not a morning person, I always trained a bit later in the morning.

Until now, I hadn’t seen much need to change my habits, but recently, my lack of mana and my own incompetence had been painfully obvious.

I had no choice but to adapt.

Though… my resolve was already wavering on the first day.

“Training is such a hassle… It’s not like I want to be strong anyway.”

[But you hate being weak, don’t you?]

“That’s the problem. Being weak is humiliating.”

In the end, my pride was what drove me.

Most of the time, my laziness won out, but once something repeated enough, my pride wouldn’t let me ignore it any longer.

I closed the window and leaned back against the wall beneath it, settling into a comfortable position.

Most people sat cross-legged for training, but I stretched my legs straight out in front of me instead.

Resting my hands on my thighs, I closed my eyes.

I let myself relax and focused on the flow of mana around me.

Mana had always been there.

To me, it felt like a vast, blue ocean.

The flow of mana around me was sometimes rough, sometimes gentle.

And it always carried a slight chill.

When I focused, it felt as if I were sitting deep beneath the ocean’s surface.

Maybe that was why Undine had always felt so familiar to me.

The water spirit gave off a feeling similar to mana itself.

“Hoo…”

Mana had a natural tendency to move freely.

But it was also drawn toward stronger wills.

I began pulling in the mana around me, slowly drawing it into myself.

At first, the cool energy merely lingered over my skin. Then, little by little, it seeped into my body, circulating within me.

Once I felt that the mana had settled somewhat, I guided it toward the emptiest part of my body.

But the mana that had already been stored within me resisted.

The two forces repelled each other, refusing to mix.

This was the hardest part of mana training—getting them to merge.

Sweat beaded on my forehead as I struggled.

Only a tiny fraction of the new mana fused with the mana already inside me. The rest dissipated and escaped my body, beyond my control.

Meanwhile, sweat poured down my face like rain.

Mana training was incredibly taxing on mental energy, which was why it was best done in the morning.

It was far less effective in the evening when fatigue set in.

“Rai, how long did that take?”

[About thirty minutes.]

“Sigh… No improvement.”

Masters of mana could spend hours just guiding it through their bodies, but for a novice like me, it was exhausting.

Both mentally and physically.

I wiped my face with my palm and stood up.

Opening the window again, I let the cool breeze wash over me.

It felt refreshing against my sweat-damp skin.

I might have gathered slightly more mana than usual.

Not by much, but every grain of sand counted.

[The sun’s rising.]

“Hmm… it’s beautiful.”

Leaning against the window, I watched the sun peek over the horizon.

Maybe dawn training wasn’t so bad after all.

As I stood there, lost in thought, Rai tilted his snake-like head.

A familiar signal.

[Someone’s coming.]

There was only one person who would come at this hour.

As expected, a young maid entered my room quietly, her brown hair tucked beneath a headscarf.

She was too tall to be called a girl, but too young to be called a lady.

Fifteen years old, maybe?

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Setting down a basin of washing water, she hesitated awkwardly, not expecting me to be up already.

In this world, indoor plumbing wasn’t common, so washing water had to be brought in manually.

If I wanted a full bath, I’d have to ask for a tub—or head out to the river.

“I’d prefer a bath. Can you bring a tub instead?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t need the water.”

Dried sweat clung uncomfortably to my skin, and I tugged at the collar of my nightshirt.

A morning bath was one of my favorite rituals.

“Excuse me… Did I hear that right? Just a tub…?”

“Yes. I’ll handle the water myself.”

Summoning Undine to fill it was one of my little hobbies.

A privilege only a water spirit mage could enjoy.

Still looking puzzled, the maid bowed and left.

Not long after, she returned with a boy around her age, the two of them carrying a wooden tub.

It was clean and well-crafted. Satisfied, I nodded and gestured for them to leave.

But the maid lingered.

“Um… Are you really sure you don’t need water?”

“Yes.”

“But… how will you wash—”

“Undine!”

If she wouldn’t take my word for it, I’d just have to show her.

[Yes, Master? Did you call?]

At my call, Undine appeared as always, her adorable form swirling with tiny bubbles in the air.

“Can you fill the tub for me? Not too cold.”

Spending time together was essential for building a bond with a spirit.

Trust was important, but so was affection—and above all, practical training was the best kind of practice.

Undine effortlessly began filling the tub.

Raising her small hands, she swirled them upward, and the bathtub quickly filled with steaming water. The mana consumption? Roughly five percent of my total reserves. Not too bad.

One thing was certain—Rai consumed an abnormally large amount of mana.

“…Oh my goodness! That’s incredible! Is this a fairy?”

“It’s a spirit. Is this your first time seeing one?”

“Yes! It’s beautiful. I had no idea such creatures existed!”

“Hmm, well, my Undine is quite pretty.”

Hearing the maid’s admiration, I felt as though the compliment was directed at me instead.

Technically speaking, spirits weren’t living creatures, but I supposed that distinction wouldn’t be obvious to an ordinary person.

I carelessly tossed my nightwear aside and slipped into the tub.

Unlike the small bathtubs designed for academy students, this one was generously sized, making it all the more satisfying.

I submerged myself up to my neck, relaxing as Undine perched on the edge of the tub, gazing at me.

Even with her small form, I could tell she was smiling.

“Hey, Undine? Can you shape the water into a heart for me?”

[Yes.]

A handful of water rose from the tub and morphed into a perfect heart shape midair.

“Now a star.”

[Star.]

“A moon!”

[Moon.]

I clapped enthusiastically at Undine’s precise formations.

Controlling existing water was far more efficient than summoning new water—it was nearly ten times faster and required only a fraction of the mana.

“That means in battle, rather than creating water from scratch, it’s better to manipulate what’s already available….”

I dunked my head underwater and came up with a bubbly exhale.

“So, if I fight near the ocean or a river, I’ll have the advantage!”

Though, realistically, how often would that happen?

In that sense, wind spirits seemed to have the best efficiency. Air was everywhere.

Earth spirits were probably similar.

Fire, on the other hand, seemed the most disadvantaged.

“Phew…”

I pondered ways to use my spirits more effectively.

Much like mages, spirit summoners rarely shared their research.

The few books that existed were filled with basic, common knowledge—nothing groundbreaking.

It was as if spirit summoners were expected to figure everything out on their own.

Having a master like I did was extremely rare.

Then again, spirits weren’t the kind of entities that could be fully explained through theory alone.

“Undine, try making an arrow shape this time.”

[Like this?]

“Narrow it a bit. Yes, just like that. Well done, my Undine.”

As we played… no, trained, peacefully, an irritated voice cut through the air.

[Tch.]

Did he just… click his tongue?

This snake… no, this spirit was mimicking people again.

“What? You got a problem, Rai?”

[Of course I do! I can’t stand watching this.]

“You’re jealous again, aren’t you?”

[But! Master is so obviously biased! If it were me, you’d definitely—]

“Definitely what?”

[You’d go, ‘Hey! Make a heart! Hey! A star! A moon! Can’t even do that, you idiot?!’ That’s what you’d say!]

Was that supposed to be an impression of me?

It was surprisingly accurate.

I clapped my hands, amused.

“You know me well. Clever Rai! Undine, clap for Rai too.”

[Clap.]

Undine formed water hands and mimicked me, clapping.

Rai, however, only grew more frustrated.

[Argh! Stop teasing me!]

“Hehe. Rai is jealous of Undine~.”

[Ugh…]

“Undine, who do you like more, me or Rai?”

[Master!]

[Hmph! Like I care!]

I was teasing, but truthfully, I liked Rai quite a bit too.

He was useless, inefficient, and consumed way too much mana…

But still, I’d grown attached to him.

He felt more like family at this point.

Resting my chin on the edge of the tub, I watched Rai sulking nearby and smiled.

Yes—having spirits meant never truly being alone.

Being able to summon unwavering allies at any time was one of the greatest strengths of a spirit mage.