Malin sat in the stands, watching the tutors from both sides battle on the stage. To be honest, after the apprentices had finished, he had wanted to take the girls and leave, to find a restaurant and enjoy a warm al while it was still light out.
Unfortunately, Malin really hadn’t known that there was such a segnt -- after the apprentices were done, the tutors themselves would enter the fray and give a show for the kids.
It was indeed tough.
While Malin was thinking this, he noticed those little mice co in. They looked around, and one of them spotted Malin, so they scurried over quickly with their boxes in hand.
Speaking of which, why were they even here?
With this confusion, Malin watched them pass through the small door onto the stands, and amid many onlookers, they handed the boxes to Malin.
Malin opened one and saw his favorite roasted at, still hot. He peeked inside the box and saw a heat-preserving spell formation carved into it.
"Alright, food’s here," Malin called out to the girls, then found a small flat area to sit and start eating with them.
However, Malin didn’t start eating first. Instead, he looked at the mouse girls: "Have you eaten yet?"
"We have," said the eldest mouse girl, but their youngest sister couldn’t keep up the facade and admitted she hadn’t eaten.
"Then co join us. There’s plenty, and your sister Faye has prepared this for you already," said Malin, beckoning them over. The mouse girls looked at each other and then at their eldest sibling. She looked at Malin, perhaps trying to find sothing on his face.
But all she could ultimately see was Malin’s sincere and honest smile.
In the end, the mouse girls joined in. They particularly liked the grain cakes, and Malin noticed that the youngest among the mouse girls, who always spoke the gibberish of the Big Horn mice, ate with particular ferocity, gobbling up nearly half a cake in one bite. Malin wondered if this girl was so sort of container... but he had also used his spiritual energy to check on her, only to find there was nothing wrong, no sharp fangs in her mouth, nor fur, nothing like the degeneration seen with Clovis.
Malin had asked Faye about it, and even she hadn’t heard of any issues with the little girl, who normally didn’t speak Big Horn unless extrely excited.
It was sowhat headachy for Malin. He had to try and get the little horn to kick this speaking habit; otherwise, it could cause trouble one day.
After all, the Crystal Barrier System of the world was weakening, and who could predict if soone with a PTSD towards mice from another world would react violently upon hearing this girl speak.
Better safe than sorry.
After they had their fill, Malin watched as the little mice finished the leftovers, tidied up, and prepared to leave.
"Thank you for the al, Mister Malin," said their eldest sister.
Malin smiled and ruffled the mouse girl’s head, finding her large ears surprisingly soft. "It’s food well-earned from your hard work. Go on, get back to your sister Faye."
The mouse girls bowed and then retreated.
Malin saw Bishop motioning to him, which was unexpected. He glanced at the girls, signaling them to stay put, before he walked over.
"What is it?"
"The Church of the Goddess of the Night would like you to fight another match against their chosen contestant," said the old Bishop, smiling.
"Why are they so stubborn? Is it another white-glove duel?" Malin felt like laughing—hadn’t they just fought? What’s up with them, to reclaim their honor?
Honor isn’t worth much; I’m here to peel their bark.
"No, they think very highly of your skills and would like you to have a friendly exchange with one of their young tutors. Just hold back a little," said the old man casually, though Malin, ever more easygoing, ultimately nodded in agreent, deciding to do the old man this favor: "Okay, who’s the opponent?"
The old man pointed towards the stage, and Malin turned to see a young man in a short mage’s robe smiling at him.
Malin was a bit puzzled by the man’s intentions, but he thought he understood the gist: "They want to pick a mage to recover their pride."
"You could say that. But I think this lad has no hope of winning against you. Just go up and play around," said the old Bishop.
"Alright then." Malin agreed, put his satchel aside, and Milani hopped out of Malin’s hood, while Bippo popped its head out, chirping to confirm whether it was to sit out the fight.
Malin raised an eyebrow, and the small creature flipped out of the hood to stand beside Milani.
Malin took off his leather jacket and put on a long, long-sleeved mage’s robe. As he walked up, the two World Tree Saplings in his hand began to combine, finally forming a staff in Malin’s grasp.
Looking at the staff taller than himself, the sword-wielding Church of the Goddess of the Night’s mage was curious—Malin’s outfit was a very classic mage setup, in which mages used long staves to amplify their spell formations. Now, however, with revolvers, longswords, and battle mages, this world had moved on.
Malin grinned: "Let’s begin, shall we?"
"I’ll count to three," said the old Bishop from below.
Reviews
All reviews (0)