015 Magical Artifacts

Roland packed all his belongings into a large hiking backpack. Before heading out, he suddenly remembered his sword. He walked to the corner of the room and picked up a longsword. This was the same weapon he had pulled from under his bed while dealing with Anna last night; it had originally been wrapped in oilcloth. In the past, Roland had practiced with it every day, but he had not touched it for a long time since coming to his mentor.

Drawing the blade, a cold glint flashed across the steel. Roland sighed, "Baron Hall originally intended to give this sword to his future son-in-law... but in my third year as his sword-squire, he gave it to me." Even though Roland’s father had served as the Baron’s steward, the Baron had never treated him as a mere servant, but as an important partner. As the Baron’s sword-squire, Roland held a status far above the other squires. Some even suspected Roland was the Baron’s illegitimate son—the kind accepted by the Baroness. Roland had once suspected this himself, as the Baron and his wife were incredibly kind to him, and Alice, the Baron’s daughter, had always called him "big brother," even in front of others.

Roland was certain he was not the Baron's illegitimate son, but this sword spoke volumes about how the family felt toward him. Until his own father, the cheapskate steward, had gone mad and fled, the Baron had treated Roland like an adopted son.

"The Baroness has always been gravely ill, and she was so good to me... It was because of her earnest pleading that the Baron gave me a chance and didn't hand me over directly to Mentor Catherine..." Although Roland had ultimately chosen to follow Catherine, he still felt a debt of gratitude and affection toward the Baroness. "The Baron kept exploring the Tawny Fern Forest only because of Lady Julie’s illness... Alas."

Roland let out a long sigh. "I am sorry, Baron Hall, I am sorry, my Lady... I cannot go to the Tawny Fern Forest to help you with your illness. I do not have the ability to return alive from that place..."

Although the "Roland" currently inhabiting this body was no longer the original, this was a parallel world; the Roland of the past and the Roland of the present were, in a sense, the same person. Thus, he could deeply empathize with his past experiences and emotions, which left him with a profound sense of guilt regarding the Baroness. Her illness required not only the Holy Grail but also a specific tree found in the deepest part of the Fern Forest. According to the Baron, he needed to transplant a branch and have the Holy Grail continuously water it like a fountain for the tree to produce the magical medicine needed to heal her. Roland did possess the art of shapeshifting, but even if he exhausted himself consuming mermaid fruit to restore his magic, he could not replicate the function of the Holy Grail. Unless he went to the Tawny Fern Forest and retrieved the real artifact, he was powerless in this matter.

Shaking his head to clear these thoughts, Roland sheathed the sword at his waist and stepped out of the room.

***

His mentor stood in the woods, leafing through a grimoire. She did not seem to have any intention of packing her own belongings, which left Roland puzzled, though he dared not ask. Instead, he inquired about Anna: "Mentor, isn't Anna coming with us? I saw her in the woods when you returned this morning."

"Don't concern yourself with her," the mentor replied without looking up, seemingly reviewing a spell. Given her temperament, she was the type to settle scores immediately and vent her frustrations on the spot. She might have spared Roland earlier simply because she lacked a reason to discipline him, but she had certainly dealt with Anna. Roland glanced at the several spatial artifacts the mentor carried and suspected that Anna might currently be tucked inside one of them, nursing a bruised rear end.

Suddenly, the mentor reached out toward the cabin in the distance and began to chant: "Alagasa... Pachikui..." As she chanted, she made a folding motion with her hands. With a simple fold, the cabin fifty meters away, along with the surrounding courtyard, was collapsed as if it were made of paper and plucked into her palm! After toying with the folded cabin for a moment, Catherine tucked it into a small coin purse at her waist.

Watching this, Roland was stunned, his expression quickly turning grim. With power like that... even ten of him would be no match for her! He felt crushed, thinking to himself, *Is the gap between a low-level apprentice and a high-level apprentice really this vast?* He clearly had a severe misunderstanding of the strength of a typical high-level apprentice. Catherine was indeed only at that rank, but given her collection of oddities and treasures, even if she were stripped of her gear, most formal wizards would be no match for her.

"Put your luggage in the bag," the mentor said, tossing her small purse to Roland before walking down the mountain without looking back. Roland caught it, confused. "How do you use this?" He stroked the purse, noting it felt smooth and delicate, like scales or snakeskin.

Suddenly, the purse's zipper began to slide open on its own, gaping toward him. A wave of heart-stopping dread washed over Roland, and he instinctively jerked his head away. In an instant, a strange, massive tongue shot out from the purse and stuck to the travel bag on his back. He felt a tremendous, dragging force pulling at his gear. Terrified, he quickly dropped his backpack, watching in horror as the purse consumed it.

The mentor’s voice drifted back from the woods: "Forgot to mention, don't rub 'Little Jimmy's' scales the wrong way—also, remember to zip his mouth shut."

***

Roland’s face went pale. The woman had definitely done that on purpose! Not daring to speak, he hurriedly zipped the purse shut, ran to catch up with his mentor, and returned it. She seemed to have no intention of letting him hold it, taking it back with a playful, enigmatic smile before leading the way.

Roland breathed a sigh of relief, but after walking for a while, he heard a faint, rhythmic "hissing" sound coming from his own waist.

"Mentor, how did your purse end up back on me?" Roland asked, gingerly holding the purse as his face turned deathly pale.

Mentor Catherine turned around, feigning surprise. "Oh? Is that so? Oh... indeed it has. It seems Little Jimmy has taken a liking to you."

Roland looked at her suspiciously, his eyes screaming: *Give it a rest, Senior! I know this is your doing! Even if you didn't cast a spell, you certainly told it to follow me!*

"Roland, your gaze lacks the respect due to a mentor," she narrowed her eyes. "In my position, do you really think I would play such childish pranks on you?"

"Cough, no, it just came over on its own," Roland turned away, avoiding her eyes. "Little Jimmy likes me."

The mentor sneered. "Heh... it seems you don't believe me. Feel free to throw it away. Perhaps if you can run a hundred kilometers in under thirty breaths, it won't be able to return to your side." With that, she swayed her hips and headed down the mountain, looking delighted.

Roland’s expression turned utterly miserable. The mentor had made it clear: he could not shake off this purse. No, this wasn't a purse; it was a shackle! He had just broken his slave contract, and she had immediately shackled him again!

*Roland, oh Roland, you are too young!* he lamented inwardly. *There must be a reason she is so afraid of me leaving... When we were in the cabin, I actually believed her and thought she was a good person!*

Desperate, he followed the female mentor. Catherine, walking ahead, was in such high spirits that she began humming a folk song currently popular in town, "The Cat Wizard." The song told the tale of an evil cat wizard who lured people to a cabin to subject them to all sorts of strange things. Roland was the victim in the song—the townspeople had even named the victim "Roland."