Sherin had seized control of all administration in Pales. The price was spending every day buried beneath a mountainous pile of paperwork.

Shan entered her office, a converted sitting room, and grimaced at the smell of dust and parchment filling the air.

“At least open a window. You said yourself that it’s good to let some fresh air in regularly.”

“I can’t. The papers would blow everywhere. Now, let’s see. The tax collection records from Kodam Village...”

Sherin shuffled through the documents with hollow eyes, then let out a strange, drawn-out groan and collapsed over her desk.

“I couldn’t do another thing now even if you beat me to death. I need a break.”

“Why not leave some of it to other people?”

“There isn’t a bastard I can trust. My uncle let them have their way for so long that every last one was lining his own pockets. I let the lesser offenders off, and I’m still stuck with all this. If it weren’t for Kalion, I really might have worked myself to death.”

After settling properly in Pales, Roden’s father Kalion had begun a second career as an official under Sherin, together with Tata, the family’s butler. Having once served as head of the capital’s merchants’ guild, he was adept at handling ledgers and documents. Sherin considered him quite a valuable find.

The person she truly wanted to recruit was Roden, but he was busy helping Shan train the Altoan mercenary company while coordinating the Brotherhood within it.

After grumbling quietly, Sherin pressed her fingers against her eyelids and massaged them, then asked Shan a question.

“So, what brings you here? Somehow, I don’t think you came just because you wanted to see my face.”

“Well...”

When he explained the symptoms he had been experiencing lately, Sherin looked somewhat taken aback.

“Shan, how old are you again?”

“I suppose I must be around fourteen or fifteen by now?”

“Then your voice is just breaking, and you’re having growing pains, aren’t you? It’s a little later than most, but that does happen.”

Seeing that he did not understand, Sherin explained that what he was experiencing was a natural part of growing into a man. As she told him that he would grow facial and body hair, develop more muscle, and gain a deeper voice, Shan looked down at himself in wonder.

“So that’s what it was...”

For Shan, who had privately admired the sturdy physiques of Roden and other grown men, this was welcome news. He was already a formidable fighter, of course, but longer limbs and more muscle would only help.

“But didn’t you ask Roden about any of this?”

“I thought it might be a change caused by my being Altoan. Roden wouldn’t know about that either.”

Shan’s unusual childhood was largely why he had failed to recognize these natural changes that all men experienced. In Willow Village, he had not been able to mix with children his own age or boys a few years older. Since leaving the village, he had dealt with adults rather than other adolescent boys.

Conversely, Roden and the others had never imagined that Shan could be ignorant of even this, so none had thought to mention it.

“I see.”

Reminded once more that the boy’s upbringing had been far from ordinary, Sherin looked at him with pity.

Shan gave her a puzzled look.

“Why are you looking at me like that all of a sudden?”

“Oh, nothing... Why don’t we take this opportunity to give you a proper examination? I finished getting some of the equipment ready not long ago. I kept meaning to mention it, but work drove it out of my head. This is good timing.”

Several months had already passed since they had agreed to investigate the changes in his body after the ogre hunt. They had put it off because both were so busy and the examination equipment was inadequate, but now that the opportunity had arisen, it seemed a good time to look into it.

* * *

The two left the office and headed for Sherin’s workshop at the end of the corridor. It, too, was a converted room, formerly a storeroom for assorted odds and ends, and was rather cramped.

“Don’t step on anything on the floor.”

After that warning, Sherin glanced around and grumbled under her breath about how woefully inadequate the facilities still were compared with the workshop she had set up in the royal palace.

In truth, she had only managed even this much thanks to help from mages formerly of the Magic Society. Had she not copied the various tools they had brought with them, she would still have lacked most of the necessary equipment.

Shan stripped off his shirt with practiced ease and sat in the examination chair. Sherin sighed softly.

“It would have been better if Professor Maya were here to help. Not one of the mages in Pales knows half as much about the study of life as she does. Where have they all gone? Are they even still alive...?”

Many of the mages who had escaped the capital as the princes’ civil war intensified remained unaccounted for, despite a personal summons from Sherin, whose influence within the Magic Society had been absolute.

There was a strong possibility that many could not reach Pales even if they wished to. Modern mages were truly pitiful in combat. Without special preparations, even Sherin would be exhausted after killing a few ordinary monsters.

Indeed, some of those who had arrived had hired mercenaries to bring them to Pales, only to be robbed of everything they owned and barely arrive with their lives. Many others had probably become a monster’s meal out in the wilderness.

Considering the magnificent edifice of knowledge they had built, this could well be called the civil war’s greatest loss.

“I’m sure they’re safe. Perhaps they’re being held somewhere.”

“I hope so.”

Though she worried about Professor Maya as well, the person Sherin was especially concerned for was the head of the Magic Society. His magical skill rivaled hers, but he was apparently so advanced in age that he would likely struggle to endure a long journey.

He was certainly someone whose whereabouts they would have to investigate once they had the resources to venture farther afield.

Even as they chatted about various things, Sherin’s hands and eyes never rested. She collected the samples she needed from Shan’s body and examined him directly.

Peering at his joints through something resembling a translucent amethyst disk, she nodded.

“Yes, there’s no doubt. I think you’re going to grow quite a lot taller. You’re already three centimeters taller than when I last measured you.”

“Really?”

“I suppose I won’t be able to look down at you much longer. That’s a little disappointing...”

Sherin teased him about how cute he had looked dressed as a girl, then her expression grew serious.

“And, as expected, some of the ogre’s physical traits have taken root in your body.”

“I thought they might have.”

Unlike the cockatrice’s effects, which had been barely noticeable, the effects of being drenched in ogre blood were pronounced enough for him to feel. Of course, it had not given him the strength of an actual ogre. Still, if he had to put a number to it, his strength and stamina—already close to their original limits—seemed to have increased by roughly ten percent.

“Specifically, it’s strengthening your muscles and stamina. It also seems to be aiding your physical growth, perhaps because this coincides with your growing years.”

Sherin kept jotting things down with her quill, repeatedly glancing at his body.

“You said you didn’t fight the horde lord in the Demonlands, didn’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“Then we can rule out environmental conditions. You were drenched in blood both times... I think I’m beginning to understand the conditions under which a monster’s spiritual essence takes root in a human.”

“What are they?”

“First of all, the key is spirit.”

Shan looked puzzled by the unexpected answer. What did spirit suddenly have to do with this?

“You know the concept of spirit being the soul solidified within the flesh? It seems that spirit above a certain strength can act as a kind of container for the spiritual essence of another creature. The cockatrice’s spiritual essence was too faint to observe properly before.”

“Oh, so that’s why...”

“The monster has to possess a certain level of power even among large monsters. It has to be fought by only a few people. Its blood, which serves as the medium, has to get on the hunter’s body, and the hunter must possess powerful spirit. Hunts meeting all those conditions can hardly happen often. No wonder it’s so rarely been observed throughout history.”

“Then Sir Lug might qualify, too. His spirit was quite strong, though not as strong as mine. As for the blood... I don’t really remember whether he was drenched in it.”

There were several ways to determine how well a knight’s spirit had been honed. The most common were testing resistance to various spells affecting the body and mind, and repeatedly exhausting and restoring stamina through constant use of spirit while under a blessing of vitality.

A knight with weak spirit would eventually run out and become unable to exert it despite having plenty of stamina left. One with strong spirit, however, could continue using it through repeated cycles.

As for Shan, he had never once reached his limit when making such wagers with other knights.

“Examining him might also tell us the difference between Altoans and ordinary people. I suppose that would be difficult right now?”

“Yes. I hear he’s fighting under Prince Elvin.”

Shan had learned this in a recent exchange of letters with Count Shedil. Apparently, after recovering, Lug had heard the news and rushed to join Elvin’s camp, which had moved south. However poorly he had been treated, Elvin was still the lord to whom he had sworn loyalty.

“Still, he said he wouldn’t forget what you and I did for him, Your Highness, so I’ll ask him to undergo an examination if the opportunity comes. We could even suggest that he join us for good once his contract ends.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Despite her words, Sherin did not seem to hold out much hope.

“For now, come back for regular examinations. The ogre’s spiritual essence accelerating your growth could cause problems. Growing too quickly might tear your skin, so apply this ointment to your body every day...”

* * *

Sherin’s diagnosis proved remarkably accurate. Not long after the symptoms began in earnest, Shan’s body started growing at a truly explosive rate. Even he, whose exceptional coordination had allowed him to adapt naturally to smaller changes in his size, found it disconcerting.

Naturally, the people around him noticed as well. In fact, the changes were so rapid that only a blind person could have missed them.

“Hey, you... Haven’t you grown again already?”

Roden clicked his tongue in disbelief as he compared their heights. The difference, originally about thirty centimeters, had somehow shrunk to around twenty.

“That’s why my joints ache every night when I go to bed. Nothing to do but put up with it.”

As predicted, the changes did not stop at his height. First, hair began growing on his chin, across his nose, and around his genitals, while his cracking voice settled and deepened. It felt strange to think he would have to put a blade to his neck and face for the rest of his life.

His bones also thickened, his shoulders broadened, and a natural increase in muscle mass filled out his frame.

In response, Shan moved beyond merely keeping himself from getting rusty and resumed serious training.

“Hah, huff, haah... Father, please... if you would.”

“Of course, brother.”

Shan set down a large boulder and forced out his request. The mercenary company’s chaplain performed a healing miracle. Closing his eyes and concentrating, Shan could feel the muscles and joints damaged by excessive training recover.

“Good. One more time...”

Though it did not quite match the training he had endured under Sir Darkal to master spirit, Shan’s regimen was still punishing beyond imagination. Combined with his explosively increased appetite, the exercise packed muscle onto a body that had grown thin during its rapid growth.

In the midst of this period of growth bordering on evolution, Shan received an unexpected visitor. Yurk Jul, Baron Rugen—the count’s brother-in-law whom he had battered a few months earlier—came to see him.

“It has been some time, Sir Shan.”

The man greeted him in a gloomy voice. He was pale and hollow-cheeked, like someone who had suffered a serious illness. With his head lowered and his manner dispirited, he showed none of the near-arrogant confidence he had once possessed.

“Yes. Good to see you.”

“... You have grown considerably since we last met.”

Only two or three months could have passed, yet the boy who had looked about the same age as his nephew had grown astonishingly. He had not entirely lost his boyish appearance, but his increased height and deeper voice made it unmistakable that he was becoming a man.

Yurk’s appraisal was brief. The moment he met Shan’s green eyes, he lowered his gaze. Merely looking into them seemed to bring back the terrible pain of that day.

“I came to apologize for my earlier discourtesy.”

Come to think of it, had one of the duel’s conditions been that the loser formally apologize to the victor? Shan was entitled to it; he had simply not bothered to seek out the baron and demand it while the man remained in seclusion.

As though reading his thoughts, Yurk continued.

“Not merely because it was a condition of the duel. I truly understand now that what I said was wrong. You are not someone who has any need to make such empty boasts, Sir Shan.”

“Well, yes. I’m glad you feel that way. Looking back on it now, I think I went a little too far myself.”

Shan accepted the apology somewhat awkwardly.

In retrospect, shoving the man’s face into his own urine and rubbing it there had been excessive. Rather than instilling the fear Shan had intended, it had amounted to needless humiliation. If he could go back to that moment, he would at least refrain from doing that.

He had not needed to go so far to prove his strength and give Sherin control of Pales.

As their exchanged apologies eased the tension somewhat, Yurk hesitated, then spoke.

“There is just one thing I would like to ask. Am I truly... nothing more than a worthless worm? Someone who can only swagger about on this little island, but amounts to nothing out there?”

“I wouldn’t go that far... You could probably reach the quarterfinals if they held a swordsmanship tournament in the capital, couldn’t you?”

Shan gave his honest assessment. Naturally, the baron was nowhere near a royal knight like Kamad, and he was much weaker than Lug, but he was more or less on par with Sir Gowell.

That was Shan’s impression of the man before him. Judging by the swordsmanship of the knights he had spent time with after the joust, Yurk could reasonably be counted among the better fighters. He was, at least, good enough to boast of being the strongest knight in Pales.

Yurk held his breath for a moment at Shan’s words, then let out a deep sigh.

“I see. So that is where I stand...”

He admitted that he had begun to suspect all the martial skill he had built over the years was merely an illusion, and that everyone had only played along because of his rank. With his pride torn to shreds, he had even doubted his strength, that last proof of his superiority. He had been unable to bring himself to venture outside.

“I would probably have stayed that way if Blois hadn’t helped me.”

The person who had visited and urged him to come out was none other than the count’s son, his nephew Blois. The young boy had come repeatedly, urging him to apologize openly for his wrongdoing and make peace. In the end, he had persuaded Yurk to act.

‘So that’s what happened...’

Things had been awkward between Shan and Blois since the duel, and they had not spent time together. He had never realized that the boy had been visiting his uncle all this time to do that.

“In any case, I am glad that wasn’t true. If I would still amount to that much outside this place...”

After murmuring absently for a while, Yurk excused himself with a bow and left.

Not long afterward, Shan heard that Yurk had resumed his public activities as Baron Rugen. Sherin summoned Shan to ask what had happened, then listened to his account with an odd expression.

“How strange. That’s all you talked about?”

“Yes.”

“Can people actually reflect on their mistakes...?”

Sherin said she had kept spiders at his mansion ever since the duel, since there was no telling when he might attempt something out of spite. Yet after apologizing to Shan, the man who had remained shut away all this time had resumed his public activities—and actually disbanded the clique that had gathered to plot revenge.

“I’ll have to deal with all of those bastards soon. Find a suitable excuse.”

As ever, the princess said terrifying things with a perfectly calm expression.

In any case, it was no bad thing to have one of Pales’s barons, a skilled knight, active again. Between patrolling across the river and building up the army, they needed every knight they could get.

Of course, Sherin added with a sharp gleam in her eyes, she would keep him under surveillance for quite some time.

* * *

While Shan grew in various ways—developing his body and achieving a tentative reconciliation with Yurk—much changed in Pales as well.

The greatest change was the arrival of light that drove away the darkness of night.

By imposing a strict division of labor on the mages of the rebuilt Magic Society, Sherin perfected the process of splitting magic stones while keeping the core technique secret. The magic stones of middling large monsters such as trolls, werewolves, and kelpies were divided into hundreds or thousands of pieces to make light-producing magical devices.

“Wow...”

“It really does just glow.”

Originally, light-producing magical devices were mere ornaments that shone only briefly and became useless after a few uses. Adding a single tiny magic stone, however, turned one into a device that could be used almost indefinitely.

In truth, Sherin had chosen to make these first for her own use. Unlike the royal palace, where light-producing magical devices were plentiful, Pales required her to light an oil lamp whenever she wanted to work or read. The dim light strained her eyes, and maintaining the lamps was a nuisance.

Even setting that aside, the benefits to the domain were enormous. Illuminating certain areas at night significantly reduced nighttime crime, while the ability to remain active after sunset increased overall productivity. Removing the risk of fire and the need to consume oil or candles was an added bonus.

Shan and Roden also received several magical lamps and installed them in the mercenary company’s residential district. Watching the bright light shine in the middle of the night, Shan murmured,

“If these things end up all over Hasra, I won’t even be able to dream of sneaking around like I used to.”

“Well, isn’t it better not to have to do that in the first place?”

“Not necessarily. Being in the dark feels strangely good. I can see the other person, but they can’t see me.”

That was a privilege Roden could never understand, one enjoyed only by Shan and the few other Altoans with exceptional night vision.

Beyond that, rather than immediately churning out magical weapons and armor, Sherin first produced a variety of things useful in daily life. She said she planned to make arms after building up their proficiency by crafting other items.

Storerooms with cold interiors that kept food fresh longer, auxiliary water-supply devices that pumped water upward, heating devices that warmed beds and rooms without stoves...

Watching these magical devices emerge one by one was nothing short of miraculous. Previously, such luxuries had been available only as Altoan relics to a select few even among the wealthy nobility.

Seeing it, Shan could truly grasp the age of magic Sherin dreamed of. A world where everyone could enjoy the power of magic!

While he was marveling at how miraculous it all was, Sherin summoned him and Roden. Resting her elbows on her desk with a grave expression, she murmured in lament,

“There are no magic stones left in the domain.”