It's all one flower.

"Well, after yesterday, good to see you practicing [lights]. You brought the paper, didn't you?

"Yes."

As soon as Leno entered the spellmaker's working room, he was told. I put a bunch of copy paper that I had the spelldoctor Septentorio split up on my desk with nothing.

The desk where the spellmaker sits is loaded with bunches of parchment paper and some powder, dried plants and some teeth and bones, and dried insects and animals. There were many types of breast bowls I saw at the Dossici City Mansion, as well as small, white plates, tools such as wax and balance, and bottles containing liquid to dissolve silver pens and ink.

They have a lot of stuff, but they're neat and tidy and easy to work with. Same goes for the pharmacist Awellana, but maybe all the people who make something out of magic are like this.

... Well, so is baking.

If the workbench is scattered, efficiency will be reduced. Even if the appliance is dirty, there are food poisoning concerns. Leno was somewhat relieved to find something in common with his work.

Yesterday, after a little help crushing the material, I pulled the core of the ballpoint pen and even glanced at the [light] curse the curse the curse artisan wrote to me on the note paper.

It's a hands-on exercise to remember the letters of powerful words.

Because it's the easiest, and I was given a [light], but every letter was complicated, and it was a big difference between reading and writing.

The pharmacist (dull) Awellana taught me that Leno and his people practiced spells and [magic crystals] that could be used even by a powerless people, such as [exorcism] and [lights]. Leno also managed to read only a little, and was actually given the [exorcism] spell to come into effect.

It was difficult to pronounce powerful words, but harder to write.

"A spell can be a craftsman even for a powerless people because it doesn't matter who writes it or who enchants it."

"Sounds like it. There were artisans in the mall where my parents lived."

"Right. If this fails, you can't fix it, and the material will be wasted, so practice until you can write it for sure."

"Yes."

The spellmaker grinned and held a silver pen, and began to write complex letters and marks on parchment paper with colorful ink formulated on a white painting plate.

... When I can make a spell, will I have Cruillo cage my magic and be able to do quite a lot of things?

Plus, after you cross to Nemoralis Island, you get more options for where you work. I don't know how long the war will last. Nenia was exposed to air raids and many companies and shops were lost. Those who evacuated to Nemoralis Island will surely have extra manpower. Besides the bakery job, it is decided that you should be able to do it.

Leno cut a few copies of paper to the same size as the sample. Take a closer look at the sample and write it down carefully with a regular ballpoint pen.

"The Light of the Eye of the Lord in the Dark Light Now"

It's a spell that makes such sense when translated into Hunan, and a magical symbol that represents the moon. The craftsman taught me that this complex mark is not a moonlight, but part of a magical stream and the true name of the moon.

... that this is the easiest... a spellmaker, that's tough.

The [light] curse, which I wrote over a long period of time to do, has lines sticking out everywhere and the shape is weirdly distorted. Leno wiped his hand sweat with a handkerchief and regained his mind, pulling the core of the ballpoint pen before working on the next piece of paper, he glanced at the sample.

I wasn't very good at school studies.

Especially history. I didn't know what it meant to know about such an old thing and didn't feel like studying it. But the practice of spellmaking is different. If you learn how to make it, that's all it takes to make life easier. No, we can improve survival before that.

Leno moved his hands silently and practiced to make sure he could write.

"A little work over here, will you help me?

When the spellmaker called me, I had written up a dozen sheets. The last minute I wrote it, I was able to write it quite well. It is merely a copy paper, so it has no effect, but mild fatigue and a small sense of accomplishment.

"Yes, what can I help you with?

"I want you to powder the Warcraft's charcoal."

A snake with wings like a bat... burned in black, but was given a fresh red flying snake, a breast bowl and a breast stick.

Precious material, so paper is laid underneath to allow spilled powder to be recovered too. I fold my feathers and put them in my breast bowl. Make sure to crush it so that there are no scraps left. When the whole thing is fine, I draw the breast stick in circles with more care, sometimes I return the heavens and earth with a medicine spoon (yakuza) and crush it with a breast stick. The powder was loosened with a medicine spoon and transferred to a flat plate while checking for any grains left.

"Fine, you're good. Even the bakery has this kind of work?

"No, I helped the pharmacist a while ago."

"Oh, so you're used to it"

A convincing spellmaker turned a bright smile. He teaches me how to be polite and loving, but he doesn't even tell Leno his name. Leno couldn't trust him, either, of his fellow guerrillas, and didn't name him.

The little man wasn't sure if he was really young or if he was older than he looked, in long-lived races like the spelldoctor Septentorio and the pharmacist Awellana.