Two hours had passed. A cardboard box, this time one that should last longer, was tucked away at the corner of the room, twelve tubes in it. He labeled them with the hour they were created before leaving the room, finding the living room to be empty. When he opened his phone, he found Carol’s chat on the notification list.

‘Sorry I left. Something with the Rangers came up.’

‘No worries. Sorry for asking you to stay with me like that.’

Under Carol's message was one from Mr. Rodger.

'I've received the research material. Thank you.'

'Are you sure that's for research?'

'Of course.'

Raphael let out a chuckle. He checked the other notifications, finding nothing important. He returned his phone to his pocket and walked around the house. He had just moved in, so the manor was still devoid of anything noteworthy.

Now that I think about it…

He went to his suitcases and began unpacking. It would give him the quick break he needed. One of the suitcases contained the two trophies that he won from competitions. He brought them both and displayed them above the still-empty TV stand. He wasn’t a fan of competitions. He had an unfair advantage, and it meant destroying someone else's dream for something not important to him. The only times he participated were when he couldn’t reject.

“I hope Carol could fill it with hers,” he murmured. It would be for the best. He knew how hard Carol worked for the things she had. She deserved them far more than he ever would. Returning to his suitcases, he took his set of clothes and put them on the sofa. Using his magic, he formed a cardboard box and inserted all of his clothes into it, before bringing them to his room at the rear of the building, behind the living room.

The room had been furnished with a work desk, a king-size bed, and a wardrobe.

Is this not too much?

He pondered as he set down his clothes on the bed. He opened his wardrobe and started organizing them. After he tidied everything up, he left the room. Only his books and various small pieces of equipment were left in his suitcase. He took them out and stored the suitcases in his storage room, below the staircase.

… What’s on the second floor?

He looked up from below. Turning his head toward the living room clock, he decided that he still had some time for the medicine-creating session before dinner, and went up. He found a hallway with three rooms on its side. He opened them one by one, all of them were clean but lacked any furniture. He felt a sense of relief wash over him after checking them.

At least they didn’t go that far.

Had all of the rooms been furnished, then he would really need to return something to the town. He couldn’t imagine the cost, feeling sure that his medicine shouldn’t have saved them this much money.

While thinking of other ways he could repay the town, he returned to his laboratory on the first floor, intending to create the next batch.

* ••

Carol gulped, unsure about what she had just heard.

“But… are you sure you should be asking me, a trainee, out of all people?”

The middle-aged woman sitting in front of her nodded her head. She had a good muscle build, her muscles properly trained. Her hair was short, revealing a scar that ran down the left of her face behind her eye, proof of a bitter fight she fought back in his prime.

“This shall be your test. If you succeed, then you shall be promoted immediately. A test far greater than the finals, I’m sure the others won’t complain.”

“... Should I tell him about this?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Him?” the woman raised her eyebrow.

“Your future husband?”

Carol nodded.

“He would surely be able to defeat it with no problem. But… what would people think of us if a non-Ranger defeated a threat that we should have handled?”

“I mean, is it a good idea to fight them with me?” Carol smiled wryly while pointing to herself. The woman smiled with confidence.

“Yes. I’ll be fair with you. You’re not our strongest, nor fastest, nor smartest.”

“Yeah…?”

“But you have the best balance of all of us, and even then you're not that far behind. I even have some parts of me that I still find to be lacking. Besides, what fun will it be if someone like me who’s about to retire is the one leading the charge? We need young people like you.”

“If you say so, I will do my best.”

“I trust you will.”

Carol brought her right hand horizontally over her chest and turned around, leaving the room.

“So, you’re satisfied, Martus?” she asked, addressing the man that sat in a chair, away in the corner of the room. The person in question bopped his head.

“She deserved a second chance. That one wasn’t her fault.”

“To the point you’ll send her to stop them? The ones that remained unconquerable for years now?”

“Sigh… if only those dragons are willing to understand us more,” Martus shook his head.

“Your charming student would be able to take care of them easily, I hope. Besides, those dragons only gather this time of the year, let them have some fun.”

“I wouldn’t mind if people weren’t so scared of them.”

“It’s been years since they last caused any trouble, though. Well, it has also been years since we saw someone strong enough to win.”

Martus looked toward the door.

“Let’s hope that will change this year.”

Martus smirked.

This is going to be fun.

* ••

Hmm?

He had just finished his dinner when a chat came from Carol.

‘I’ll be busy for a while, so I won't be able to visit.’

‘It’s fine. What are you doing?’

‘Sorry, cannot tell you.’

‘Okay, good luck on whatever it is.’

‘Thanks!’

Raphael wondered what kinds of things a trainee Ranger needed to do to the point she was this busy, but as Carol wished, he decided against digging deeper. It wouldn’t be long before she graduated anyway. As a tradition, trainee Rangers would graduate at the end of the year, just before the new year, at the end of the winter months. They would then return to their assignments in spring, marking a new period in their lives.

It probably had something to do with graduation. As the head of her class, Raphael assumed she was given various tasks. Had he himself not been busy with making medicine, or rather, didn’t use making medicine as an excuse, he would most likely have been tasked with a lot more things.

He managed to find a way to dodge his way out of those things most of the time, although there were times when he was forced to help whether he liked it or not. Thinking back on it, his university had quite a colorful cast. Fraone, the pilot that would often disappear somewhere, just to go flying because he was in the mood for it. Niro Yaeik, the painter that would also just go and disappear somewhere, skipping classes so he could go out and paint. Mr. Rodger, his history professor, who would just bring some random food into class, claiming that it was part of the cultural study. Thinking about it, his university cast seemed much more lively compared to his high school one, although both of them were precious to him.

I wonder what they’re doing now.

He went to the manor’s front door, looking up at the dark skies. Lights twinkled in the distance, the bright moon shining its glow on the land below. Lines of street lights and house lights tangled in the distance.

Niro would love this.

He brought his phone out and turned it on its side, setting the image to be in landscape. He took a picture and sent it to his friend. Niro read it almost immediately.

‘THANK YOU SO MUCH, GREAT MAGE! REALLY MAGNIFICIENT!’

‘Come around and take a look for yourself sometime. Pretty sure Fraone still has some space in his plane.’

‘Thank you for the invitation. I’ll look into my schedule.’

Guess I should prepare him a room.

Raphael looked back into the manor, the old building had been standing here for at least a hundred years, a relic of the past, the era before his existence. He stepped away from the front door, heading toward the empty field in front of him. The grassy field was one thousand peb in length, more than enough for Fraone’s plane. On the end of the field was some empty land and the beach, so if he required, he could extend it.

He didn’t see a need for a second airport on this island, though. He turned around, facing his manor that stood out in the middle of the scenery. He brought out his phone, aligning the camera with the view. The manor in the middle, the lights of a village in the background along with some of Mount Moluart’s foot.

A beautiful picture, if he said so himself. He decided to send this one later and returned to his manor.