The Gate Traveler-Chapter 45B5 - : The Art of War (Against River Squid)

By the time I reached my so-called clinic, a small crowd had gathered outside—seven people, standing in loose clusters, shifting their weight or chatting idly. A quick glance found no blood, no frantic shouting, and no one being carried in. Nothing urgent. Good. I spotted the slips of paper in their hands, each marked with a number. Even better. Rima had already done triage and sorted them out.

The midday sun pressed down, heat baking into the packed dirt of the street. I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. The morning had slipped away between airing out the house and the drawn-out conversation with Lady Almatai. It was past noon already. I felt guilty for a moment—I’d kept them waiting longer than I should have—but I waved it off. Some things couldn’t be rushed or helped.

Inside, I nodded a greeting to Rima, cast Clean on myself and everything around me, and said, “You can call the first one in.”

It took three hours to see and treat everyone. Nothing serious today—not even enough to warrant dipping into my dwindling stash of pemmican. By the time I wrapped up with the last patient, Mahya and Al had already peeked into the treatment room a few times. I knew exactly what they were thinking: When’s lunch?

Rue was the smartest—he kept his Storage stocked with food, and the moment his supply dipped below 20%, he demanded a top-up.

During lunch, I turned to Al. “You know, I was thinking about the stink bomb you assaulted us with this morning.”

Al pulled a face at me, somewhere between annoyance, and murderous intent.

I waved him off. “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not judging. Actually, I think you need to make more of it.”

Mahya’s food fell off her fork, and she stared at me, wide-eyed and wide-mouthed. For a second, I considered picking up the piece of steak she dropped and sticking it in her mouth—just to see her reaction—but refrained. I liked being alive. And keeping all my limbs.

“What the hell?!” she shouted, stabbing the air with her fork in my direction. “Are you nuts?! Do you want to kill us?!”

“I’m totally sane, thank you very much.” I leaned back, gesturing vaguely. “Think about it. While flying, we’ve been assaulted by swarms a few times. If we shoot one or two of those things at them, they’ll high-tail it at the speed of light.”

Mahya gave me a death glare, her grip tightening around her fork. “They’ll escape, and we’ll choke.”

“Not if I ask the wind to blow the smell away,” I said, feeling pretty smug about my idea.

She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “And what about the stench while he’s making it?”

I shrugged. “I’ll handle it like today.”

Al cleared his throat, setting his utensils down with deliberate precision. “Your spell is never getting near me again.”

“Why not?” I threw up my hands. “It wasn’t that bad!”

He gave me a flat look.

I flicked my hand dismissively. “Spoilsport.”

Mahya hugged his waist dramatically. “Thank you.”

With the same deadpan expression, Al peeled her hand off and resumed eating as if nothing had happened.

I think we hurt his feelings.

Yeah, we did hurt his feelings. I could feel it.

The apprentices—Rima and the ducklings, Mata and Tod—watched the entire exchange like spectators at a tennis match. Their heads bobbed back and forth, eyes darting between us, expressions shifting with every rise and fall of the conversation. It was amusing, considering we were speaking English and they couldn’t understand a word, yet they still reacted as if they were following along.

After lunch, Mahya and Al returned to their respective areas, leaving me alone with Rima. She was stacking plates, but I caught her attention with a slight nod.

“I have a question,” I said, my tone serious. “Now, don’t answer me immediately. Think about it first. It’s more important than it sounds.”

She stilled, fork hovering over a half-finished plate, then slowly set it down. A small crease formed between her brows as she nodded for me to continue.

“Do you trust me?”

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Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blurted, “Yes! Of course.”

I lifted a hand, palm out, stopping her before she could say more. “Please, really think about it. To teach you spells, I need to take control of your mana. When I do that, I can read you like an open book. If you don’t trust me completely—if you’re not willing to expose yourself fully—then I won’t be able to shape your mana into the spell form and teach you how to cast it.”

She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. This time, she didn’t answer right away. I waited as she drifted deep into thought, her gaze unfocused.

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More than ten minutes passed before she took a sharp, deep breath, as if surfacing from deep water. “I know all of you are keeping a lot of things under your hats,” she said, meeting my eyes.

“I’m not angry or disappointed about it—you don’t owe us your truths.” A small smile flickered across her face. “But I also know you’re a good person who wants to help. I trust you not to harm me or anyone else, and I believe that if you stumble upon something while shaping my mana, you’ll keep it locked in your chest.”

She exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening. “So, I’d say I do trust you. Maybe not without seams or stitches—we haven’t known each other long enough for that—but I trust you enough to let you see who I am, if that’s what’s needed.”

I nodded in approval. “Good.”

Casting Clean over the dishes, I stored them away before turning to Rima. “Stand up.”

She obeyed without question, rising to her feet. Stepping behind her, I placed my palms lightly against the backs of her hands.

“Now, channel mana out of your hands—the smallest amount you can manage. If you push too much, you’ll burn through your reserves before learning anything.”

She nodded, took a deep breath—then unleashed a torrent of mana.

“Stop!” I snapped. “You’re channeling way too much.”

I adjusted my grip slightly, keeping my voice firm but steady. “Imagine a stopper at the base of your wrist—close it. Then, crack it open just enough to let out the smallest trickle you can. Try again.”

We went through the same song and dance about ten times. I gave her different visualizations to help control the flow, tweaking my explanations each time. Eventually, she got it—but by then, she was swaying on her feet, drained from mana depletion.

Rather than push her any further, I switched gears and taught her how to meditate to restore her reserves. Once she had the basics down, I sent her home to practice there.

Still, I felt good about today’s session. She hadn’t let me examine her when we first met, so I had no idea about the size of her mana orb. But judging by the sheer amount she channeled, it wasn’t bad. My best guess put it somewhere around 700 to 850 units—not an exact number, just a rough gestimate, but still a solid starting point.

After Rima left, I glanced out the window to make sure no one was watching, turned invisible, and took off to scout a relocation site.

Flying at a moderate speed, I cleared the infested woods in ten minutes before veering west toward the river. The sun was already setting, but the moon in this world was bright, and the sky held more stars than I could count. Even in the dark, I doubted I’d have any trouble—my Perception had me covered.

When I reached the river, I summoned a cresting wave beneath me, letting it carry me forward as I scanned the terrain. I could have done it from the air, but some details were easier to catch from this angle.

Twenty minutes into my water skiing, something coiled around my legs—a tentacle.

I zapped it.

It let go.

I used water to haul it into the air like a fish on a hook.

It was a squid.

Well, mostly. It had twelve tentacle-like legs instead of eight, four arms instead of two, and was the size of a pickup van—but aside from that, it looked like your standard, garden-variety squid.

This stumped me completely. I wasn’t an expert, not by a long shot, but I distinctly remembered from school that squids were strictly marine creatures.

Maybe it’s just this world’s version?

Shaking off the pointless thoughts, I zapped it again until it stopped moving. No red light appeared, and it didn’t dissipate—great news. That meant it wasn’t a monster, just a regular creature.

And the gang did love calamari with butter, garlic, and white wine sauce.

I stored it and moved on.

After another three or four kilometers down the river, I spotted a ruined castle on a hill. That looked promising. If someone had built it there in the first place, it meant the location had advantages.

I flew up to get a better view.

The hill was large, stretching almost a kilometer from incline to decline. It wasn’t too steep, making it easier to build on, but it was high enough to give a good vantage point over the surrounding area. The castle was in bad shape, with crumbling walls and collapsed sections, but the foundation and some outer structures looked still intact. It could be repaired or used as a starting point for new construction.

The river behind the hill was wide, providing a reliable water source. The flow looked steady, and there weren’t any visible signs of contamination. If the water was clean, it would be good for drinking, irrigation, and possibly even fishing.

On the far side of the river, a dense, towering forest stretched into the distance. That was both a benefit and a risk. It could provide building materials, firewood, and hunting opportunities, but it also meant potential threats—wild animals or monsters. It would need to be scouted before settling in.

Another advantage was the open space around the hill. There was plenty of room to expand, build defenses, and set up farmland if needed. The location also made it easier to control access, with the river on one side and the hill’s incline restricting approaches from the other.

Beyond the hill with the castle, a much lower hill stretched out, and past that, fields, orchards, and grazing herds extended in every direction as far as the eye could see.

So far, it looked like a solid option—water, resources, and natural defenses were all in place.

I flew closer to inspect the ruins.

Well, it had definitely seen better days.

The outer walls had partially collapsed, with large missing or crumbling sections. What remained stood tall enough to offer some protection, but it would need repairs. The main gate was long gone, leaving a wide, open entrance. Inside, the central keep was in rough shape—one side had completely caved in, exposing the interior rooms to the elements. The upper floors, if they had ever existed, were gone.

Despite the damage, some areas were still structurally sound. A few intact rooms along the inner wall could immediately be used for shelter or storage. The foundations were solid, meaning rebuilding would be easier than starting from scratch.

It looked like I had found the place to pitch to Lady Almatai.

I turned back toward the settlement, but stopped mid-flight, reconsidering. Instead, I returned to the river.

This time, I skied upstream, letting my awareness spread through the water.

There! Another squid.

Smart bastard. It had positioned itself in the middle of the river, fanning out its legs and arms to both sides. Anything drifting downstream had no choice but to pass right through its reach. Crafty bugger.

But it had just met a craftier one.

A little water magic, a bit of lightning—more calamari.

I skied up the river for about ten kilometers and caught fourteen squid. Most were roughly the same size, but the fifth one I caught was nearly double the size of the others and weighed several tons.

I had no idea exactly how many tons—it was hard to estimate something that massive—but it was huge.

Since the fishing expedition had been so successful, I decided to contribute a couple of squids to the settlement, but I planned to do it in secret. Otherwise, Rue would never forgive me. He was absolutely crazy about calamari.