Chapter 24 _ The Principle of Graphite, or the Reward of a First Battle
Frey, Iris, and I—
two people and one cat—headed to the Adventurers’ Guild.
“Why must you insist on calling me a cat!?”
Frey snapped from my arms.
“There are three of us. Three!”
“I just thought it’d be easier for readers to picture,” I muttered.
“…Hmph. Fair enough.”
And just like that, we arrived.
The Adventurers’ Guild functioned much like the black market I’d worked with—
it brokered all kinds of jobs.
Monster extermination.
Building repairs.
Clearing clogged waterways.
Even bread delivery.
The difference was legitimacy.
Unlike the black market, the Guild was government-sanctioned,
its requests strictly regulated.
Which meant there was no way they’d post
jobs like corpse disposal—the work that had been my first in this world.
Registration was required.
Over the past six months, I’d earned about twenty fanans a day on average.
After expenses, I had roughly 1,200 fanans left.
I paid the 100-fanan registration fee—
—and when I looked up,
I saw Frey already inspecting quest notices with Iris.
“Hmmm… yes… this one will do.”
The notice read:
Teal Pockle Extermination — 20 fanans per head
Recommended Adventurer Level: 2
“Frey… this is a Level 2 job,” I said.
“I’m Level 1, Iris is Level 2. Isn’t this risky?”
“A Teal Pockle grows no larger than sixty centimeters,” Frey replied.
“Look at the illustration. Adorable, is it not?”
She continued calmly.
“Do not be fooled by appearances.
They breed rapidly and move in packs,
devouring crops at an alarming rate.”
“They rarely attack humans,
but their speed makes them difficult to eliminate—hence the level.”
“Iris,” Frey said,
“think for yourself and try first.”
“Yes, Master ❤”
Outside the city, vast farmlands spread before us—
wheat, barley, grapes, tomatoes.
“…Tomatoes?” I blinked.
“So this world has them too.”
“Indeed.
A reincarnator from your world brought the seeds long ago.”
“…I see.”
That was when we found them.
Over twenty Teal Pockles
rampaging through a massive tomato field.
“Very well,” Frey said, pointing.
“You two handle this. I shall observe.”
“Okay!”
“Give me the signal and I’ll use an area spell,” Iris said.
I aimed my crossbow at one that had stopped moving.
Six months of practice paid off.
The bolt struck its neck, killing it instantly—
—but the creature shrieked.
“PIGIIIIIII!”
The entire pack scattered.
“Spirits of the air, heed my call—
freeze and bar their path!
—Blizzard!”
Iris’s spell struck the group,
slowing them—but not enough.
“They’re tougher than I expected,” she muttered.
“I’ll finish this. Fall back.”
She raised her staff.
“Ruler of thunder, bearer of the divine hammer—
answer my call and strike down all who flee!
—Mjölnir’s Descent!”
Dark clouds gathered.
A massive lightning pillar crashed down.
“They’re down!” I shouted.
“That was amazing, Iris!”
“Hehe… thanks.”
“…Thirty points,” Frey said flatly.
“…No. Ten.”
“What!? Why!?
We slowed them with ice and finished them with lightning!”
“Silence, Mario!
This is a lesson between master and disciple!”
Frey turned to Iris.
“You eliminated them all. Well done.”
“Yes.”
“But look.”
She pointed to the field.
The tomato plants were wilted,
ruined by the cold.
“Plants recover—but tomatoes are fragile.
Using wide-area ice magic here was the worst possible choice.”
“You stopped the pests, yes,
but destroyed the crops. That defeats the purpose.”
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think that far.”
“You needn’t blame yourself.
Such details are visible only to a true sage.”
She paused.
“However, there is another reason your score fell.”
“The combination itself was terrible.”
“…Why?”
“Ice magic freezes pure water from the air,” Frey explained.
“Pure water does not conduct electricity.”
“The Pockles were coated in layers of ice—
which weakened your lightning drastically.”
“…I see. You’re right.”
“Now,” Frey said,
“observe the correct answer.”
She led us to the neighboring field.
“Do you know this?”
She summoned a black sphere.
“Graphite?”
“Correct.
Crush it, and the powder disperses.
Commonly used as a smokescreen.”
She had me throw it.
It shattered, releasing black dust.
“Windstorm.”
The powder swirled, coating the creatures.
“Thunder.”
A small spark—
—and electricity surged through the graphite,
instantly annihilating the pack.
“My Thunder spell is far weaker than your Mjölnir,” Frey said calmly.
“Yet the result differs. Why?”
“…Because graphite conducts electricity.”
“Exactly.”
“A single weak spell suffices.
Minimal damage to crops.
Rain will wash the residue away.”
“Carry graphite spheres.
They enhance lightning—and even fire magic.”
Overwhelming knowledge.
Iris stared at Frey in awe.
“A–amazing… no—
incredible, Master ❤”
“Hm?
Flattery will not steal my heroine role.”
“…You said you’d stop that.”
“Hmph. Perhaps.”
At the Guild, Iris filed the report.
A tear glimmered on her cheek.
I wiped it gently.
“Your first successful quest,” I said.
“Congratulations.”
“…Thank you.
I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I didn’t do much.
You found a wonderful teacher.”
“She’s strong, kind, brilliant—
and adorable ❤”
“Heh heh.
You finally understand who the heroine is.”
“…She’s a bit strange though.”
As dusk fell,
we split the reward and walked side by side.
Six months of mud and hardship—
and at last, the first true step as adventurers.
Our new daily life began quietly,
accompanied by a dependable master’s lectures
and a gentle, growing warmth.
