How to Escape from an Implacable Man

After much talk, I decided to live in a mountain hut with my aunt.

My aunt's name was Mr. Miltil, I said.

My husband, Mr. Klaus, and I cook plates and water sprinklers here in the kiln Kama, and they sell them to town for a living. Well, Mr. Klaus, he died of illness last year.

"I had one son, but this is not one of the letters I send to you, a thinner."

With a stroke of dark tea hair, Mr. Miltil, with some distant eyes, also looked a little tearful.

"Well, I don't care about that. It's more about you than that. You were caught by a lame man."

I honestly told Mr. Miltil how it went, even if I got involved, without knowing anything - or rather than being blown into lies by that guy.

"Man, it's not a bad idea to live with one another, unfortunately."

I was also prepared to be rejected, and I was hung up with gentle words, which spilled my tears.

I cried woefully to comfort Mr. Miltil, and I think it was really annoying. That reminded me how concerned I was.

Somehow, a peaceful life without worrying about people's eyes.

Mr. Miltil, who understood what I wanted, did not have one disgusting face to live together.

Even today, Mr. Miltil went down the mountain in charge of baked small plates and pots.

Left in the cabin, I do cleaning and laundry, digging out clay to be used for baked goods from the mountains.

The broken cabin is completely restored under Mr. Miltil's instructions, confused by his first carpentry job. It goes without saying that I realized once again how convenient physical strengthening and lightening magic formations are. Even Marutai is light. Be strong!

Still, I think it's a mundane gap.

Finish the streets of work and drop blood on the diamonds.

Like evaporating water, the obsessive-compulsive notion that you shouldn't leave me like this, watching your own blood make tiny noises.

Think.

If you choose the way of witchcraft, don't just stop thinking.

Yes, I remember what your teacher told me many times.

What do you want to do with witchcraft? What configuration is necessary for this? Ultimately, a new formation.

Stare at your hands.

What I can do. Drawing formations. Embroidery. Powerful work. Housekeeping. Accumulation of magic. Formulation of medicinal herbs.

I'm going to count the fingers.

In my current residence, I get annoyed by Mr. Miltil. I need to at least make some money.

I don't want to bother anyone. I don't want to be a burden to anyone.

Otherwise...

"What if I don't?

The words that were supposed to follow never showed up from the marsh of precipitated anxiety in my mind for some reason.

◇ ◆ ◇

"Marie. I sold it today. Your medicine and herbs. Looks like you've got more people looking for you than my dishes."

Back from town, Mr. Miltil reported to me that he was in the workshop with his cheeks uplifted.

"Really? Good -"

Gorigori, gorigori.

"Plus, your jacket and boots, they're really awesome. It's warm on the snowy road, and it's easy."

I just granted it thermal insulation and lightening, but it seemed more popular than I expected.

Gorigori, gorigori.

"Yeah, well, this is my next order."

"Ah, yes. - Uh, Mr. Helen, I knew you'd been ordering extra. It's really cold. Is Van the damp cloth for back pain? Does it make my back hurt worse when I get cold every day?"

Gorigori, gorigori.

I will list in my head which herbs I need as I check the wood plaques I receive.

"Now, shall I make an extra bowl? Thanks to the patterning Marie suggested, sales grew a lot."

"Is that true? After all, if you have flowers, birds, or patterns, the dining table will be busy. Mr. Miltil's drawings are horrible, or do you feel warm?"

Gorigori, gorigori.

"There's nothing out there to praise, Marie. - Or is it the bottom line?

"Oh, hey, I wonder if you want a new bowl. Oh, my God. Well, barbecue is fine."

"Oh, my God. Did you break it?

"Ugh, it's not nice."

"I can't help it," Mr. Miltil laughed at me and slapped me on the shoulder.

"Instead, make me another glaze. Look, the blue colors in the meantime are kind of reputable."

"Really? I was wondering if blue, so close to blue, could not be painted and the food didn't look very delicious."

Gorigori, gorigori.

I turn the research notes that have been completely thickened and look for a recipe for the glaze that I was treating as a failure.

"Looks like you can see milk stews and green vegetables a lot. Some people buy it because it's a rare color."

"Heh, right? It's a little surprising."

Gorigori, gorigori.

"... it's time, Marie"

"Yes? Oh, excuse me!

I hastily touched a number of lined rind bowls in the room with one fingertip after another.

There was one bass that was filling the whole room, one less, and the silence quickly returned.

"Doesn't Marie care at all?

"Yes, thank you. When I immerse myself in my thoughts, I seem to cut off the surrounding sounds and stuff."

The rind bowl in this room was made by me. It is a handy tool that automatically crushes a mess and herbs without having to use people's hands.

If it adds up to anything, I learned how to make pottery from Mr. Miltil, but there's magic in the work about what kind of reason it is. Perhaps it stems from the unconscious magic I put in when molding with a mold, or the mixing of hand sweat and something.

I couldn't just bring magical pottery into the world without directivity. Because I don't know what will set that magic free. If the sorcerer uses it maliciously, it can also become a dish bomb or vase bomb.

Anyway, I can't sell it.

Then it was Mr Miltil who suggested to me that I should use it as a tool for myself. If you can't divert magic from someone you don't know, you can use it yourself.

As a result of trial and error, it is this automatic rinse bowl that can be made. Part of my body so that I can carve a formation into each bowl and stick and manipulate it even remotely - in this case, embedding my hair.

That made it a lot easier to formulate the medicine, but this is the noise again. I can't help it because there are always about ten rind bowls moving. I'm used to it. I don't care anymore, but I got a noise complaint from Mr. Miltil, who works in the same workshop, and when Mr. Miltil is around, I can do the rule of stopping the rind bowl.

"I think it's really convenient for you to use magic like Marie, but seeing how it turns out, you can't even say it's good."

Mr. Miltil, who sat in front of Rokuro, laughs bitterly.

"Whatever you do, be careful with the bowl.... or should I cook more?

"What, I'd like to be careful, but it would help if you gave me more"

The pot I asked Mr. Miltil for is a planting pot, not a rind pot. I wish I could make this myself.

Many medicinal ingredients are of plant origin, such as pharmacologically effective leaves, fruits, and roots. Of course, that doesn't grow in the winter mountains.

Then what are you doing with the ingredients?

Answer...... homegrown.

As long as we get seeds and seedlings, the rest can be forced to grow using growth boosting formations. Your teacher also used this to make medicine. Seeds - Growth - I can cycle the harvest of new seeds, so it's possible to zero the original hand, but I can't abuse it because after generations like this, the drug effect becomes weaker, the drug effect changes, and on the contrary, it turns to poison. It's a connection until we get through the winter.

It's off the record, but why break the bowl?

Unfortunately, this was also caused by the strength of my magic. Ideally, it would take half to one day to grow over a period of one to six months, and your teacher did the same. But if you make a mistake about the magic that you can get into when the sorcery formation is activated, it will only grow in an hour, or three minutes or so when it's terrible, so you can't stand the volumes of rapidly expanding roots, and it will break with Parin. Moreover, since the next generation of fruit is dropped and withered without harvest gaps, it also results in the fact that the leaves of purpose are not available.

To avoid that at least a little bit, I tried to use a pot that wasn't magical, but occasionally, if it fails a little, it breaks the planting pot.

By the way, the cause of today's failure was clear.

"No way, I didn't think I'd get magic in my sneeze..."

It was good when the formation was activated.

Success today ~ ♪ was good to the point where I was singing my nose song.

If you think your nose went musty, Kushun, Parin.

She's a woman who sneezes and breaks a planting pot. Yes.

"Yes, Mr. Gain asked me about you today."

Mr. Miltil, turning the pomegranate with skilled hands, called me back from a painful memory.

"Again?

"Oh, he asked me to call the doctor who lives there."

"Really..."

I have received several similar invitations since I asked Mr Miltil to consign herbs and medicines.

Mr. Gain is the former mayor of the town who still has a say in various parts of town.

There's only one doctor in town who comes by once every few days, and if you want medication, you have to pay high money to get it along with a doctor's appointment, or go all the way to Waldstow, a town over a mountain. It is dangerous to cross snowy winter mountains in summer anyway.

That's why he's trying to get me to town, where Mr. Miltil lives. I ask Mr Miltil, and he only says he is a traveling medic, so I fear that in the spring he will leave with the snow melt.

No, actually, I'm going to.

I have not told Mr Miltil yet, but I want to leave the King's capital whenever possible, and I believe that I will leave this country.

When I remembered that life without any shards of freedom, my chest hurt.

"At the very least, I wish there was someone to serve you on my behalf"

I moved the herbs from the rind bowl to another bottle one by one.

It is, of course, remotely operated. They draw a formation on a mat with a bottle and a bowl. It may seem creepy, but my hair is also knitted. When you have a part of your body that is the starting point when you remotely manipulate it, it becomes very stable.

Why bother remotely? 'Cause I don't get my hands dirty or anything, and it's a hassle to get a vikin in from my hand.

"Customer service, hey"

Mr. Miltil also thinks as he molds the second plant pot.

"In Marie's case, the situation is the one. Anyway, if you accept that, and you're just a tough mouth person, you have to know a lot about herbs in order to serve customers, right?

"Right."

If you know so much about herbs, you just have to let that guy open up in town.

"Come on, should Marie have another one, I don't know"

If I had one more, I wonder what would just happen if the kid was taken away by that guy.

No, that might be fine.

"Another one, huh?"

I shrugged blurry.

There's another me. I guess I'm still living with my family in that countryside. Maybe with a lover.

I was two melons when I broke up, but now that I've grown up, I guess I look different from me.

I've already forgotten my name, my twin sister.

You were putting it out in your mouth, and Mr. Miltil was whining, "Another Marie with a different face," and removing the second planting pot from the roll.

"My face, no...?

"That's what Marie said, isn't it? Because they're twins, they don't look the same until they grow up."

My face, no, the other me?

I had also forgotten about the blue glaze I had been asked to, and I was beginning to think about bumps and the composition of the necessary sorcery formation.