The northern sky is vast and desolate. Were it not for the descent of the Floating Fortress.
When the cold earth holds onto water droplets, both clouds and mist sink quietly. Weather is the whim of the Heavenly God, but on a land so cold, even the desire to throw a tantrum shrivels away. It seems even the Heavenly God shrinks a bit in the cold, being a man and all.
However, instead of the rare blizzard or storm, an artificial phenomenon known as the Floating Fortress descends. It is the brazen act of mages occupying the sacred space of the sky for nearly a month.
And the masses tend to cheer for such antics directed at stuffy authority. Where the center of the Celsius Territory meets the Floating Fortress—this year's landing site overflowed with vitality.
However.
Far from there. In a land as far from the Floating Fortress as the moon, it was a matter of no consequence.
"Maid. Is this the Unranked District?"
"Yes. That's where the child headed. It's also the place I trudged back and forth to."
The maid grumbled in reply. Her mood was none of my business, but her suffering was worth acknowledging.
The Kelvin River cutting across the Celsius Territory. Thanks to the freezing point, a characteristic of the Celsius Territory, the river's surface is frozen solid, making it no different from the ground. However, because the ground is ice, cold air rises from it, and in the summer, the snow melts, making it impossible to build houses and live on it. It has only drawbacks for settlement.
On such difficult-to-live-on ice, the Unranked build mobile huts and eke out a day-to-day living by ice fishing.
Over two hundred huts visible to the eye. Hundreds of igloos made by piling cut ice along the riverbank.
A settlement of the Unranked who survived simply by adapting to this situation, knowing no magic and possessing no proper magical tools.
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"Guide me."
"Where to?"
"To that child's house."
"How would I know that?"
"What? You followed behind but didn't figure out their residence, family situation, or condition? What exactly are you doing?"
"Am I some stalker?! Why would I need to know that?!"
You are a stalker, aren't you... Hmm.
The maid whipped her head around and walked ahead.
"I'm just a maid running an errand!"
"You said you returned the shoes."
"I left them with someone who would know! Follow me. I'll guide you to the person I left them with."
The hostile maid led me to a building with a large cross hanging from it.
It was a church fitting for the North. Transparent ice replaced glass for the windows, and the towering cross brilliantly scattered the clear northern sunlight.
"You have a visitor."
As we opened the door and entered, a missionary wearing a black priest's robe welcomed us with a smiling face from inside.
"Ah, the kind soul who brought Richard's shoes last time. Richard was thankful too."
"Was he really?"
"He didn't say it, but deep in his heart, he must have been grateful."
The priest continued his conversation with the maid with a pleasant-looking face. He looked detached and frugal, befitting a priest in charge of such a remote place.
The priest, having finished his conversation with the maid, soon acknowledged me.
"So it's you. The mage who came down from the Floating Fortress to teach the children. To bestow teachings even while busy unraveling the profound mysteries of magic, the Heavenly God will surely bless your endeavors."
It seems my reputation has spread this far.
"I am Hughes. And you are?"
"Missionary of the Eastern Missionary Society, assigned to the Celsius Parish. I am Casas."
The missionary placed his hand on the closed Bible and spoke.
Missionaries. Belonging to the Eastern Missionary Society, they are believers who bestow knowledge and teachings upon the barbaric lands to 'civilize' them. Those who volunteer to go to places completely isolated from the secular world, driving themselves into endless hardship....
They are truly madmen.
It is a faraway barbaric land. One cannot even fathom the dangers that lurk. Most humans are wary of outsiders, and if that outsider suddenly meddles and shoots off all sorts of nagging, they are bound to dislike it. If there is a ruler of that land, they would feel fear and wariness toward missionaries preaching an unfamiliar civilization.
Such feelings can turn into hostility at any time, claiming the missionary's life. Their home country is far away, leaving no one to help them. In the worst case, they are massacred, disappearing without even leaving a single line of their name in history. Except for an 'x' mark drawn on the old nameplate of the Eastern Missionary Society, there is nothing to mourn their deaths.
That madman who had willingly plunged himself into endless hardship wore a friendly smile and spoke affably.
"You spoke harsh words to Richard. It was difficult coaxing the child who cried all night."
"I didn't think it was particularly harsh."
"I told him the same thing. No matter how harsh the words, how can they compare to the cold reality? Informing him of reality in advance. That too must have been your kindness, Mr. Hughes."
Kindness? I just spoke the reality.
"Knowledge is a curse that drives humanity into endless suffering, and ignorance is a sweet sleep that comfortably envelops us. We each call them life and death, respectively. I told him it was your intention, Mr. Hughes, wishing for Richard to live on within knowledge."
"Ah..."
I felt it as we faced each other. As expected, missionaries are properly mad. How can one find goodwill in such cold words? It would be easier to pan for gold in a river.
"And that fact was fulfilled by your coming here, Mr. Hughes."
"What do you mean?"
"If you were a ruthless person, those words wouldn't have bothered you, and you wouldn't have come here."
He's a really good person. Because he is such a person, he became a missionary to teach letters and knowledge to the Unranked of the Celsius Territory, I suppose.
As long as he thinks well of me, it's fine by me. He won't resist what I'm going to do in the future.
I didn't add or subtract a single word. I looked around with my coat draped over me.
"Could I borrow this place for a moment?"
"Of course. Originally, the missionary society doubles as a place of education. It may sound irreverent, but in the Celsius Parish, education is the main occurrence, and worship takes a back seat. We teach them to learn the word of God, but once they learn to read, they all leave for other academies. Haha."
I looked around. Long wooden benches placed at regular intervals allowed the backrest of the front bench to be used as a desk. Crooked letters were densely written on them. The church was neatly organized, but traces of studying remained everywhere.
"It seemed like he could read letters. He learned it here. Do you not teach magic?"
At my question, the missionary burst into a hearty laugh.
"Haha. You jest. How could the church teach magic?"
"Why couldn't it?"
"Are you truly asking because you don't know?"
Uh, why? Can't I ask if I don't know? Was it a mistake to ask here? Did I look too ignorant?
"...I suppose the longstanding conflict between the Mage Federation and the Eastern Missionary Society isn't a topic that generates much curiosity for an outstanding person like you, Mr. Hughes."
"Since I'm at the mission, I can just learn it now."
"That is also true. Knowledge is meant to be drawn out rather than simply stored away. My old knowledge must have been stored away to be drawn out at this very moment. Now, then, I shall tell you."
Waiting for the maid and me to sit on the benches, the missionary opened the Bible and spoke.
"A long time ago. A group of refugees settled in this freezing northern land. Only a small number of indigenous people lived on this land, and in this harsh environment, they had to cooperate rather than fight each other to survive, so there was no problem with their settlement. However, survival was still a difficult challenge. Every time they survived the winter, they had to bid farewell to those who froze to death."
"The Eastern Missionary Society heard of this difficult situation and dispatched missionaries over several instances. The missionaries built missionary societies across the North and carried out missionary and relief work for the indigenous people and refugees. What they put particular effort into was gathering and organizing the ways to survive in this cold."
"The indigenous people had the know-how to survive on this land, but their knowledge was fragmented and habitual, making it hard to learn. The missionary society interacted with them for a long time and wrote down and organized the ways to survive in this harsh land. Settlers used to visit the missionary society to learn how to survive. The missionary society even built a large building, renting out rooms for nearly a few years and teaching them how to survive."
So there was such a history. Then again, the Mage Federation probably didn't wield magic from the very beginning either... Huh, wait a minute. The form is somewhat familiar.
"It sounds as if the predecessor of the Magic Tower was the missionary society?"
At the question that pierced the core, the missionary closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them.
"...At that time, it is said that the power of the missionary society in this region pierced the sky. Enough to be compared to the current Magic Tower. The missionary society's help was essential to survive on this land. Even so, the missionary society did not forget its original purpose. They harmonized the indigenous people and the settlers, sharing knowledge with both. However, there was knowledge the missionary society did not share and hid instead."
Well, given this flow, there's only one thing that could come out. The missionary spoke.
"That is 'magic'. The runic sorcery passed down deep in the North, the shamanism the indigenous people used by burning animal fat, the knots of prayer that detain souls. They wove all knowledge into magic, but fearing its power, they hid it and only shared it among the missionaries."
"The origin of magic was the missionary society?"
"According to our records, yes. Though the Mage Federation would not admit it."
The missionary made the sign of the cross and continued.
"Until Lord Saint Rene drew the map, a conflict arose between the missionary society and the mages. However, knowledge is like the wind; no matter how hard you try to cage it, it leaks out. In the end, magic was revealed to the world, and people no longer relied on the missionary society."
Having listened to the whole story, I let out a short comment.
"You brought it upon yourselves."
"I knew you would say that. And it's not a wrong statement, either."
The missionary nodded bitterly and continued.
"Magic is a powerful and equally dangerous force, but on such a rugged land, one needs such power to survive. If more people can be saved through knowledge, that too must be something the Saintess looks kindly upon."
"Quite a progressive attitude for a priest."
"Death is always the most horrific tragedy. The more frequently you encounter it, the more acutely you realize that fact. Much less a missionary of the Mage Federation, what would they withhold?"
"Anyway, I understand well. I'll keep it in mind."
That magic originated from missionaries. This is an unexpected fact. I didn't learn the history of magic deeply in the Floating Fortress.
It wasn't a lie, and the likelihood of it being wrong is low. It's already a known fact that the Mage Federation is a pioneered land, and between refugees and missionaries, the more learned side is obviously the missionaries. The center of power and knowledge must have been the missionaries at first.
While we were talking, the church door opened. It was the Unranked who had infiltrated the academy back then. The Unranked casually closed the door and walked inside, saying,
"Father. Did you call for me?"
"Richard. Come on in. There is a precious guest here to see you."
"...!"
The Unranked flinched in fear upon seeing me. He's making such a fuss over just one harsh remark. This level of verbal abuse is common in the Military Empire, you know?
I fluttered my coat hem and said to the Unranked.
"I came to make you an offer, you who said you wanted to learn magic."
'Richard is a talented child. He couldn't receive a proper education because his environment didn't support it, but if an outstanding mage takes him in and teaches him, he will surely achieve great things.'
The missionary looking on with satisfaction. He does good deeds, and he is a good person.
It's just a pity to betray the expectations of such a person.
I reached out my hand to the Unranked with pure goodwill.
"Do you have any thoughts on learning Formal Magic?"