Chapter 21: New Magic Device.

Time to make some artifacts…

Dokurobaru, now acting like my guardian, tries to carry the napping Tarte, only to be scolded: “You’re terrible at holding me!” and “Are you a panty-wearing bitch too?”
Tarte flips her skirt, revealing light blue panties, and Dokurobaru flees, screaming adorably.
Clean and charming—nice choice, Dokurobaru…

“My minion’s great at holding me. What a find!” Tarte boasts.

Well, I’ve been looking after my younger siblings forever, so I’ve got experience.
Still, I’m a find to Tarte?
After her nap in a corner of the plaza near the welfare building, I decide to turn my oak into artifacts.
I need them ready before the new term starts, or I’ll be in trouble for classes.
Back at the dorm to grab the oak, I run into Hernest, fresh from his reflection.

“Wait. If you’re processing wood, take me along.”
“Didn’t Zoldietta say no weapons for the hunt?”
“Nah, I’m skipping it… Sushi-rolling’s not for me…”

Apparently, escorting Mujihidane to Red Lily Dorm, he saw Kussera, lifeless and rolled in a blanket, pointed out by Zoldietta with a “This’ll cool her head.”
That changed his mind.

Hernest wants to use a large wood processor, so we head to the crafts building in the specialist course area, used by artificer-course students for crafting and maintaining artifacts or brewing potions.
It’s equipped with a woodshop and forge.
I expected it to be quiet without classes, but it’s bustling.

“Aray? What’re you doing here?”

Shusendu-senpai, an artificer-course student, greets us amid the festival-eve-like chaos of the woodshop.

“What’s going on?”
“Haven’t you heard? Hunt prep.”

I forgot—knight-course seniors are mandatory participants.
They’re maintaining gear, keeping artificer seniors swamped.

“You’re not joining because of that spell, right?”
“No way, that array’s beyond me. Just making class artifacts.”

When I explain I’m replacing broken artifacts, Shusendu glares but helps after I clarify I’m crafting [Air Burst] artifacts.
Large processors are risky and slow for us, she says.

“Don’t let that kid run around—it’s dangerous.”

She tells me to keep Tarte close, takes my oak, and, after hearing I want battledore-shaped artifacts, says, “I can make two,” sawing it into planks with a woodshop machine in no time.
I just need to shape the grip and sand it.
Hernest, aiming for a spear shape, needs a large lathe for the shaft.

“Looks good, Aray. Give it a spin.”

I turn the lathe, and the wood Shusendu set spins perfectly centered—no wobble.
Centering alone would take us ages, but this top artificer nails it instantly, saying, “Call me before removing it,” and returns to her work.

Hernest’s reason for tagging along is the lathe—a magic-powered machine requiring magic to run.
It’s inefficient; keeping it spinning is tough for Hernest, and it needs two people: me, with surplus magic, to spin, and him to carve with a bladed tool.
After carving the shaft, leaving ends thick for processing, we call Shusendu.
She evens out uneven spots and sands it smooth, making Hernest’s cautious hours look amateurish.

This senpai’s a true craftsman…

“Aray, you’re not joining the hunt, right?”

As we thank Shusendu and leave, Sanders-senpai, a mandatory participant, spots my materials and frowns.
I assure him I’m not going, and he sighs in relief.
New specialist-course students, moved to senior dorms, are caught up in the hunt’s hype, eager to fight monsters, giving him a headache.

“More escorts are the last thing I need…” he grumbles, heading into the crafts building.

I warn Hernest: “Seniors see us as escorts, not fighters. Don’t get inspired to join.”

If he gets hyped again, it’s trouble.
Sanders, a sixth-year starting next term, is skilled enough to lead units.
I could offer support fire to ease his burden, unlike the meatheads.

“I know. I don’t want to hassle Sanders-senpai,” Hernest says.
“You know him?”
“Not like you, but he’s a training ground regular. He’s coached me.”

I rarely visit the grounds, but Sanders is popular there—strong, thorough, and able to go easy on Mujihidane.
Hard to imagine from the guy crying “Baldy, baldy…” as his hippogriff plucked his hair.

It’s evening, so we’ll finish tomorrow.
I’ll draw arrays tonight, and the general-course workshop should wrap it up by tomorrow.

“Muu~ Bedtime! Get in bed!” Tarte demands, smacking the futon.
“Just drawing arrays—wait a bit.”

I won’t take long.
Using a drafting table, I trace an [Air Burst] array onto thin paper with my magic pen—no improvements, just copying.

“No waiting! I’ll draw one quick!”

Tarte snatches a sheet and, while I trace at the desk, freehands an array on the wall with unknown characters.
I can’t tell what it does, but the symbol where attributes usually go catches my eye—it’s like the one on her teapot.

“Tarte… Is this…?”
“I can’t stand Viviana being worshipped in my face. She’ll make herself useful, or I won’t forgive her.”
“Can my magic handle Viviana’s spell? Won’t it break the artifact?”

The cheap oak worries me more than my magic, but Tarte assures me she toned it down for durability.
It’s a defensive spell creating a water wall to hide me and my Koketris—perfect, since I lack defensive artifacts.

Next morning, after breakfast, Hernest and I work in the general-course workshop when Mujihidane arrives with ash wood.
She’s given up the hunt to craft a wooden sword.
Seeing Hernest’s spear, finished by a senior, she mutters, “Betrayed again…” and saws her ash with killing intent.
The general-course workshop lacks powered saws, so it’s manual labor.
She tried the specialist workshop but got shooed away as a reckless hunt wannabe.
Her furious sawing and “Hern-kun got ahead…” make Hernest pale.

For my battledores, I rough-cut the grips with a jigsaw, then shape them with a vibrating sander.
Unlike past-life battledores, they’re thick to avoid breaking.
I round the edges for safety, shaping the [Air Burst] grip thicker toward the end and the Viviana spell grip straight with a bat-like end for distinction.

I carefully paste last night’s tracing paper onto the boards, avoiding bubbles, and use a grooving machine to carve the array lines.
Brushing on shop-bought array ink, I place them in the drying room.
Hernest finishes his spear, rounded like an oar for training, with an array carved and the shaft painted red.
Red doesn’t make it three times faster…

“Good timing. Crank the dryers full blast,” he says.

The dryers, magic-powered artifacts, blow warm air and expel moisture.
Hernest wants all six running—treating me like a magic battery!

“Your magic’s enviable… Spinning that lathe yesterday, and you’re fine?”

Hernest sighs.
He once collapsed running the lathe for Mujihidane’s spear, using magic potions, and was bedridden a day.
She took too long, but he’s still scared of it.
I’ve never lacked magic or collapsed from it, but he wouldn’t get collapsing from physical exhaustion, like Dokurobaru’s diet training.
Stop acting like you’re the only one suffering…

By lunch, the ink dries, so I sand the surface, removing excess ink for clean arrays.
Testing in an open area, the Viviana spell creates a 2×2-meter, 5cm-thick water wall, clear like ice or glass, hard but not cold, repelling my fingers.

“It’s stripped of ‘flow,’ so it won’t budge,” Tarte says.

Even if hit, it stands like an iron wall.
The oak shows no wear—a subtly excellent spell.
Lacking [Tarte Drill]’s flashiness, it’s excusable if seen, unlike other water wall spells.

Satisfied, I dust the artifacts and paint them for protection: black for [Air Burst], blue for the water wall.
I coat them thickly, wrap the unpainted grips in string, and hang them to dry.
A nap with Tarte, and they’re done.
Hernest finishes but gets roped into helping Mujihidane, struggling with her ash.
[Violence Duke]’s intimidation doesn’t work on wood, so her glare turns to us for finishing early.

The beast shed’s closer than the dorm, so Tarte and I let the Koketris sand-bathe and borrow a lounge for a nap.
Zoldietta’s there, so her honey spirit joins us.
Near evening, as we head to the workshop, a flustered Sanders-senpai arrives.

“Pedrorian, Aray, good you’re together. There’s a girl in our assigned group, Dokurobaru, your year. Know her?”