SMMA 101

Chapter 101

The three gathered again at the edge of the sandbar—the cursed island, or rather, the Skeleton Headmaster’s island—to decide what to do next after being stranded.

Ihan asked first.
“Can we build another boat?”
“……”
Angrago shook his head. Even a small raft needed more materials and effort than he could manage alone. The last one had only been possible with help from other White Tiger Tower students.

“Self-escape seems unlikely…”
“S-sorry.”
“Forget it. But there’s another problem.”
His serious tone made them tense. This was the man who had defeated the undead that ruled the sands—what could trouble him now?

“What… what is it?”
“At this rate, I’ll miss class tomorrow.”
“……”
“……”
At first they thought Wardanaz was joking, but his expression was dead serious.

“Y-you weren’t joking?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“N-no, sorry.”
“In… in a situation like this, skipping one class isn’t so bad, right?” Dukema asked.

His reply was ice-cold.
“No matter the circumstances, you never skip class. Understood?”
Grades were more important than life.

Even if they didn’t understand in their heads, they felt it in their hearts. It really must be important.

“U-understood.”
“I’ll apologize too. But Wardanaz, I don’t see any way we’ll get back in time for class…”
The sun was already sinking; Monday morning meant a new week and lectures. Could they escape before then?

“Any chance someone will notice you’re missing and come rescue you?” Ihan asked. Waiting for help might be more realistic than building a boat again.

They both shook their heads.
“Even if they noticed, they couldn’t come right away.”
“No boats…”
“White Tiger Tower really is full of knights—why are you all so bad at cooperation?”

They felt wronged. That had nothing to do with solidarity!

“At least Monday morning’s first lecture is Basic Magical Ethics.” Ihan mused.
It could be lucky: if the Headmaster opened with something like, “Any of you retrieve the exit permit from the island? No? Then I’ll give you another chance—today’s task is to go get it,” then rescue would come to them.

But…
Would the Headmaster do that?

More likely: “Can’t even manage that? Try harder.”

While Ihan was thinking, Angrago slapped his knee.
“Yes! By class time, everyone will realize we’re gone. The Headmaster will rescue us! We just have to hold out—”

“No. We explore the island now. We escape on our own.”
“……”
“……”
They gaped.
“But… he might rescue us—”

“He won’t.”
“If students are missing… surely he’d be concerned—”

“He won’t.”
The finality in his voice shut them down. Sadly, this was reality. They’d entered the academy; it was time to accept it.

If no rescue would come, they’d find their own way. Ihan planned to check what else the Headmaster might have prepared—besides the exit pass and trials, there had to be something.

Or at least a hidden stash with their lost raft.

Grrr—

“……”
He turned to see Angrago flushing and bowing his head.

“Hungry, right? After all that exertion. Better to eat before we move. You have food?”

They nodded confidently.

“Then let’s eat before we search.”
Ihan pulled bread and canned goods from his pack. Angrago pulled… tree bark.

At first Ihan thought it was meant as a dish. But Angrago gripped the white bark and said to Dukema,
“Dukema. Boil water. We’ll cook it.”

“Wait. Wait.”
They looked at Ihan quizzically.

“…You eat that?”
Angrago grinned, proud to know something Wardanaz apparently didn’t.
“Wardanaz, this tree’s inner bark is edible. Boil it and it turns soft, even sweet.”

“……”
He sighed. Even with nothing else to eat…

“I thought White Tiger Tower hunted for meat.”
“We do, but it’s never enough.”
“You’re missing the point, Wardanaz. Hunting doesn’t guarantee a catch. And preservation is hard—we eat most of it fresh. Bark is a good emergency ration.”
Smug with their exclusive knowledge, they explained at length until Ihan nearly hit them, but even he felt a bit sorry.

“…I have food. Let’s share.”
“!”
“R-really? The tomato vegetable stew?”
Wardanaz’s stew was already legendary enough for even White Tiger students to have heard of it.

“No… I don’t carry tomato cans to the lake. No vegetables either. Just enough for myself—so we’ll need to forage.”
They looked faintly disappointed.

Pulling gear from his leather pack, he laid out: a pot, a glass bottle of olive oil, butter, salt, pepper, eggs, crusty white bread, and pickled bacon.

They stared, speechless.
He said ‘just my own food’…
Do Blue Dragon Tower kids eat like this all the time?

They weren’t embarrassed about being in White Tiger before—but now they were a little envious.

“Still not enough.”
“That’s… plenty—”
“I saw edible mushrooms earlier. We’ll gather some.”
As Ihan rose, they followed.
“We said we’d be your arm while yours heals.”
“We can’t let you go alone.”
“Can you tell safe mushrooms apart?”
“…Got it right one time in three… last time.”
“Two of us die then. Just dig what I point at.”

Only pick what you know for sure; anything odd-looking gets left behind. Ihan stuck to unmistakably safe ones.

“Pick that brown one.”
“Not that one.”
“Throw that away—it’s suspicious.”
Soon they began feeling more confident.
“This one’s dull-colored, so it must be safe?”
“Throw it out before I throw you out.”
Angrago obediently tossed it aside.

Dukema, however, kept wanting to improvise.
“What about this one?”
“Looks edible—like something from home dinners.”
“Matches ones we picked—safe?”
Ihan encouraged him with,
“Yes. You can eat it once.”
“Ooh… wait, why just once?”
“Because it’ll kill you.”
“……”
He quietly put it down and stuck to safe mushrooms.

After gathering, they built a campfire. Ihan lit it with flint, not magic.

“Why flint?”
“Wardanaz cares about flavor—fire from flint is better than magic, my grandmother said.”
Was that it?
In truth, he just didn’t want to risk setting these two alight.

He heated butter and oil in a pan. The secret to good mushrooms was patience and high heat—dumping them in too early ruined them.

Cooking skills have really improved since I enrolled.
Not even kidding—his cooking felt stronger than his magic lately. Limited ingredients force creativity.

With enough capital and backing, chef might beat magician as a career…

Sizzle!
The mushrooms soaked up the butter and oil. He tossed them skillfully aside, then sliced the hard bread and fried it in the remaining fat.

Finally, he cracked eggs into the pan. The White Tiger boys were in awe.

These guys look more impressed now than when they heard I killed the undead familiar…

“Eat.”
He sprinkled salt over mushrooms, bread, and eggs.

They ate in silence, too busy shoveling the crisp mushrooms and softened bread into their mouths.

Angrago felt his eyes sting.
“I… didn’t think I’d eat like this again…”
“Me neither… thought it was gone forever…”
It’s been a month since you enrolled…
Ihan kept silent, chewing.

They were still gulping food when a rustle behind them made him whip up his staff and throw his plate aside.

Angrago dove to catch the plate instinctively.

“Who’s there?”
From the bushes emerged a water spirit, body swelling irregularly as it approached. It looked angry that the freshmen were sitting around a campfire instead of doing the trial.

It was ready to attack.

So was Ihan.

And he struck first.
“Drive forth…”
Before he could finish the incantation, the water spirit jolted in fright—and fled.