SMMA 94

Chapter 94
“You really grew this yourself?”
Salko’s voice was a mix of surprise and curiosity.
A boy from the Blue Dragon Tower—a student of the prestigious Wardanaz family, among the most powerful in the Empire—was personally growing fresh, shiny, tender, golden potatoes?
It was hard to believe, even after hearing it.
“Yes. I grew them myself.”
Ihan nodded calmly.
The other Black Turtle Tower students, who had been lingering nearby, quickly stepped in.
“It’s true! Wardanaz really grew them, Salko!”
“He even treated us to some last time! They were delicious!”
“I see… What did you give him in return?” Salko asked, narrowing his eyes.
The Black Turtle students paused, glancing at each other awkwardly.
…They had just eaten.
“Don’t tell me you accepted food for free?”
Salko’s voice turned sharp, and for a moment his stern expression and broad frame looked ready to start swinging a hammer.
The students froze in terror.
The Tutanta family’s motto was simple:
—“Those who do not work, shall not eat.”
Even among peers, freeloading without effort was an unforgivable sin.
That sort of behavior was for shameless nobles or idle knights!
“U-um… no…”
Unable to bear the sight, Ihan intervened.
“They helped me with something, and I treated them as thanks.”
“!”
The Black Turtle students turned to him with eyes brimming with admiration.
Wardanaz…!
“Yes! That’s right!”
“We helped him!”
At that, Salko’s heavy expression softened.
“Good. I was worried you’d degraded yourselves into moochers who take without giving.”
“Come on, Salko, we’d never do that.”
“My most hated word is idleness, you know.”
“Understood,” Salko grunted, half satisfied.
As he turned to leave, Ihan called out.
“Would you like a potato?”
There was a simple reason behind his offer.
Everyone loved his garden potatoes—even the princess had sung their praises.
(Of course, Ihan still suspected that the princess might just be the type to say everything tasted good.)
Furthermore, Salko had been eyeing the potatoes in Ihan’s basket intently a moment ago.
It could only mean one of two things: he either loved potatoes… or had a grudge against them.
“No. I’m fine. I can’t accept one if I can’t repay you.”
“You could just take one.”
“Don’t insult me, Wardanaz. A dwarf of Tutanta accepts no charity without labor.”
But you’re an elf…
Before Ihan could say it aloud, Salko hurried away—as though afraid that staring at those potatoes any longer might tempt him beyond reason.
* * *
“These are hard times for a thief like me,” Ratford sighed as he explained recent events to Ihan.
Since the backgrounds of the Black Turtle Tower students were so diverse, they tended to form smaller cliques.
But inevitably, a few students began to stand out more than others.
Foremost among them was the not-quite-dwarf, not-quite-elf—Salko of Tutanta.
With powerful magical skill and a sense of responsibility as solid as stone, Salko’s popularity had soared.
Poor Nillia… thought Ihan suddenly, feeling a twinge of sympathy.
Nillia had been generous and kind to her Towermates, but while they liked her, none followed her as a leader.
Salko’s charisma, by contrast, commanded real loyalty.
Is it because she’s a dark elf and he’s a high elf? No… I don’t think that’s it.
Whatever the reason, Salko’s faction grew steadily—alongside the underground market the Black Turtle Tower had built.
Word spread quickly, drawing students from both the Blue Dragon and White Tiger Towers to barter goods.
Naturally, more business meant… more conflicts.
— “Why is this loaf worth five pieces of bread?!”
— “Please, not here, sir!”
— “Hey, this coffee’s fake! Give back my bread!”
— “I told you it’s dandelion coffee! No refunds!”
As trade with other Towers increased, so did the inevitable disputes.
And since most visiting students were from noble or knightly families, the Black Turtle Tower couldn’t risk confronting them directly.
So they went to the most reliable person—not Nillia, but Salko.
He reluctantly agreed—but demanded adherence to his rules.
“If you want outsiders to respect my regulations, you all must follow them first!”
“Of course, Tutanta!”
“Right, we’ll follow your rule!”
“Then remember this: ‘If you don’t work, you don’t eat.’”
“A great rule!”
“No other Tower could ever live by it!”
“And also—no stolen goods. Ever.”
“……”
“……”
“What’s the problem?”
“No problem! None at all!”
Though there were grumbles, his fierce temper kept even the worst troublemakers in line.
After hearing all this, Ihan was indignant.
“It’s the same everywhere—honest people suffer because of a few idiots. Thanks to those noisy White Tiger brutes, thieves like you and me can barely eat.”
“Exactly,” Ratford agreed solemnly.
“Tough times, Ratford. So what are you doing now?”
“Oh, I’m fine. I still sell stolen goods… quietly.”
Ihan couldn’t help but respect that. A true professional thief indeed.
Running an illicit trade within another black market? Remarkable.
“Of course, because it’s discreet, the scale’s smaller now. I’ve moved on to other ventures.”
“?”
Ratford pointed to a corner where some students sat—not trading, but running games.
“Watch this closely. Three cards—one emperor card. I shuffle quickly—pick the emperor, and win double.”
Flip, shuffle, mix—the game was simple.
…A card scam, obviously.
“Gambling’s allowed?”
“Tuntanta doesn’t like it, but he tolerates it. If he banned everything he disliked, half the Tower would riot.”
Indeed, the Black Turtle Tower boasted the highest ratio of criminal backgrounds—thieves’ guild members, gamblers, and other rogues often found their way there.
Salko knew it, so he turned a blind eye to anything considered ‘earnest work,’ even if it involved money changing hands.
Besides card tricks, there were chess wagers, lock-picking contests (Ratford’s personal specialty), and other… “productive” amusements.
Is this a black market or an adventurers’ guild? thought Ihan.
“Argh!! My bread! My three days’ worth of bread!!”
“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to shuffle that fast…”
A White Tiger student screamed in despair—clearly cleaned out.
“Don’t give up, Dukema! Bad luck, that’s all! Try again!”
“It’s not hard! You’ll win this time!”
Ihan frowned. He recognized one face.
The card dealer was Imilgre—the half-giant student he’d met in Professor Mortum’s necromancy class.
Smart, Ihan admitted. “That size makes people think you’ve got clumsy hands… but you’re finessing every move.”
True enough. Ihan’s keen eyes caught subtle tricks in the shuffle—precise finger flicks, sleight as elegant as any street magician’s.
After all, this was a world of actual magic—few respected manual illusion arts.
But those who did master it belonged to the gambling guilds, professionals who relied on pure technique instead of magic to cheat.
“Never gamble against Imilgre,” Ratford warned, mistaking Ihan’s interest.
“Even I’ve never beaten him once.”
Apparently, within the Black Turtle Tower, Imilgre was unbeatable.
“I don’t gamble, Ratford. Just observing for fun.”
Ihan flexed his fingers. A coin appeared—and vanished.
Ratford gasped.
“As expected of Lord Wardanaz! I’ve always said—you have the soul of a master thief!”
“Keep your voice down. That’s not something to brag about.”
Receiving such emphatic praise for a simple coin trick made Ihan feel strangely embarrassed.
“No, my lord. With skill like that, you could easily claim a spot in this market.”
“……”
For a fleeting moment, Ihan was tempted.
Perhaps all those hours practicing sleight-of-hand tricks had been preparation for this very opportunity—to steal bread and meat from the pockets of White Tiger nobles.
“But… I belong to another Tower,” he said.
“I’ll talk to them. You have plenty of friends here who owe you.”
Before Ratford could rise, Salko appeared—flanked by the same students from earlier, looking guilty.
“Wardanaz,” Salko began, “it seems these friends of mine did eat without paying.”
Loose-tongued idiots… Ihan silently cursed.
If you’re going to lie, at least see it through!
He however, was more than capable of holding a lie to his grave.
“It couldn’t be helped. My family’s motto is ‘Feed the hungry.’”
His calm, serious tone had that uncanny Wardanaz authority that made even absurd nonsense sound noble.
The onlookers nodded instinctively.
Of course! That made perfect sense.
“So that’s why you’re always sharing food, Wardanaz…”
“I don’t blame you,” Salko sighed. “It’s not your fault. I came to apologize for my friends’ behavior. Taking without earning—that’s the act of idle nobles and violent knights.”
He bent his head in apology, and his Towermates followed hesitantly.
Outside the market, however, other students protested.
“That’s too harsh!”
“Idle nobles?! Do you know how difficult noble life is?”
“And you dare insult the honor and duty we knights uphold?!”
Same Tower or not, they’re insufferable.
For a second, Ihan was tempted to take Salko’s side purely out of annoyance.
But Salko ignored the shouts completely.
“They don’t have money to repay you now, but—”
“It’s fine,” Ihan cut in. His Tower kept careful ledgers down to the last silver coin, but he had no intention of pressing the Black Turtle students for payment.
“No. I’ll pay for them.”
“!”
Ihan blinked.
He’ll pay?
So the Tutanta household really was wealthy.
One of the Empire’s most renowned stonemason guild families—it made sense.
As Ihan pondered how much to charge for his tomato stew, Salko’s next words cut in sharply.
“I’ve heard rumors, Wardanaz—that you wander the academy grounds at night. Is it true?”
“I don’t know who told you that nonsense, but it’s entirely false.”
“……”
“……”
The Blue Dragon and White Tiger students outside exchanged stunned looks.
Does that boy’s face ever crack…?!
The Wardanaz family must train poker faces as part of their education.
Ignoring them, Salko continued stoically.
“I have information that may help you.”
“!”