Our policy in Aramsus, fundamentally, was learning.
The scholarly city’s pride — the Library — gathered, supposedly (by the scholarly city’s say), every piece of knowledge in this world.
It did warrant the bragging — the city’s largest building. Expanded multiple times, judging by the styles not matching, the clutter felt very Aramsus.
Private academies opened. Dojos were everywhere. I planned to show my face at them, but my main target was the Library.
Above all—
“So this is the famous Library… the building’s impressive. The contents should be too.”
The Third’s tension was high.
The ancestors were rabidly hungry for tech and knowledge as a baseline; the Third most of all.
Novem and Aria were out today, so I was alone.
“To read the rare books, I have to deposit five silver coins and register as a member.”
A notice at the entrance explained for first-timers.
For general books, the fee was one copper coin.
For valuable books, you paid five silvers and registered.
And on top of that, there were books the scholarly city didn’t show outsiders at all.
“Glad I brought money…”
Five silvers for use it for a lifetime — cheap.
I pulled out five silvers, went to the counter to register.
The Second observed.
“Lots of young people. Knowing this many can read and write — feels like a different era.”
In the Second’s time, how many citizens of the village could read?
Definitely fewer than now.
Busy just surviving. Some former barbarians had become citizens.
They’d had their struggles around literacy too, surely.
The Seventh:
“Impressive, truly. Storing books in a building this size.”
He hadn’t visited himself; seeing it in person, he was impressed too.
I finished registration and headed for the accessible specialized-book area.
The building was huge, so I checked the map near the counter.
“Too many — can’t pick what to read.”
While I was deliberating, I spoke to a girl coming out of the counter.
“Excuse me — a moment?”
”…Yes.”
A quiet girl.
Short. Slight build.
If anything spoke feminine, it was the chest pushing out her clothes despite the slight frame.
Navy-blue hair, not particularly groomed — looked finger-combed.
Length to about the shoulder, ends sticking out roughly.
Half-lidded sleepy eyes; the eyes red.
If she hadn’t come out of the counter, I’d absolutely have taken her for a child.
Her clothes too — more whatever was on hand than fashion.
A shirt and a slightly short skirt.
(…This isn’t her as a child, is it?)
Rude thoughts. I asked:
“I want to get here. Which way?”
I pointed to the map. She looked, then looked at my face.
”…I’m going there myself. I’ll guide you. That’s part of the job.”
“Th-thanks.”
The dry tone — she reminded me of the Guild clerk. — Still not as bad as that one.
She looked younger than me, no helping it.
For a clerk, she looked far too young — felt like being guided by a child.
Walking the corridor, the silence was uncomfortable; I called out.
“Anyway — lots of books here. We just got to Aramsus — lots of out-of-towners come, I take it?”
“Yes. Most people ask the same question. I’ve answered it many times — Everyone says the same thing.”
My smile froze.
The Fourth.
“This type has her own world. A little kindness from Lyle isn’t going to sway her.”
(I’m not aiming for that…)
For the Fourth to assume I was hitting on every girl — look at her.
Calling that hitting on… what would Novem say if she heard. I — wanted to hope she wouldn’t cheer me on.
Where she led was a room of agricultural specialty books.
Inside, a not-small number of people at desks, reading and copying.
Hard study.
“They’re at it.”
”…Private speech here is discouraged. Even when no one’s here, no loud voices. For breaks, there’s a space down the corridor.”
“S-sorry. — Lending?”
She shook her head.
“Lending is prohibited as a rule. Many books are valuable for their existence rather than their contents, so such items are very expensive.”
I nodded and headed for the shelves.
She came along behind me.
The Third was calling out titles he wanted; I picked up books and started reading.
“Want to hole up for a while, but no time… Lyle, slow your pace?”
My reading was fast enough that the ancestors had asked whether I was actually reading. I thought I got the content…
Heading for an empty seat, I scanned the room.
I tilted my head.
”…What are you doing?”
“Eh?”
She’d casually picked up a book and was sitting down. Looked a touch surprised at me.
(I’m the surprised one.)
A staring contest. She sat in her chair and started reading.
Even the Third was surprised.
“Wait — what’s going on?”
Asked the Fourth. The Fourth was at a loss too.
“Beats me. This is her job? Break?”
I forced myself to accept it and sat next to her, started reading.
I should have brought something to take notes with, I thought, and turned the page.
The Library was quiet — only the sound of someone making notes.
Footsteps in the corridor came through, but concentration made them fade.
Reading, I listened to the ancestors exchange opinions on the content.
“If I’d had this in my time—!!”
The Second cried. The Sixth.
“This only spread in my time. Probably not possible in yours.”
The Seventh:
“In my time, the newer method spread.”
The Second lamented.
”…Why are you reacting so flatly?! It’s revolutionary!”
Opinions on tech differed across generations.
Up to the Third, they’d actually worked the fields; for agriculture they were rabid.
When the conversation drifted, the Second went quiet — couldn’t follow.
Listening—
(Loud… well, fun, in a way.)
I finished the book and went to put it back. Time was up.
The girl beside me — the clerk — was still reading.
”…Aren’t you on the job?”
She looked up.
“The job? No, I’m off today…”
Then why did she guide me?
She might actually be a fairly nice person.
She’d finished hers too; she stood and went to reshelve.
I went to reshelve and noticed most of the people around had cycled out.
“A lot of time passed.”
No pocket watch; the volume of pages I’d read suggested past noon.
I’d told Novem I’d eat out — fine — but I was hungry.
A grumbling-stomach sound near me.
Eyes around us turned; but the sound wasn’t mine.
Another cute grumble.
“Um — are you hungry?”
I had to ask. She was, as expected, reshelving and picking up another book.
She nodded.
The Third.
“Treat her to a meal as thanks? You have money.”
The Fourth opposed.
“Don’t give her the wrong idea! Lyle, you unconsciously confessed to Aria — remember!”
That surprised me more.
“Eh?”
I’d said it aloud. She picked up the book and started toward a seat.
”…Hah. Um, if you don’t mind, but—”
I invited her to a meal.
The Fourth’s voice:
“Aha — he asked. Absolutely going to give her the wrong idea.”
The Second.
“Doesn’t look the type.”
The Fourth snorted.
“I’m not saying to her. I mean Novem-chan will misread it.”
The Seventh.
“Hm… face passes, head probably passes, but the rest is doubtful.”
House Walt’s precept.
The standard for picking a wife.
A drunken-tavern joke about a six-item checklist had been passed down — one of House Walt’s would-rather-hide-it facts.
The Seventh thought if she doesn’t clear the conditions, Novem won’t fuss. The Fourth disagreed.
”…A meal with a girl who doesn’t meet conditions — how does Novem-chan take that?”
Hearing that, I started thinking it might genuinely be bad.
(I-it’s fine, right? Yes — fine for sure. Just a meal!)
Self-reassuring, I left the Library with her.
◇
Clara Brummer.
Navy-haired, red-eyed girl’s name.
She worked at the Library, apparently.
Registered as an adventurer, took support jobs for money, lived in Aramsus.
Took shifts at the Library when they needed temp help.
At a café on the main street I’d treated her to a meal; I got plenty of information.
“You used to attend the academy? But you’re fifteen.”
Clara — the same age as me and Novem — nodded over her tea.
“Skipped grades. In the foundational years it’s common. Some had prior education, and reading-writing-arithmetic varies by person.”
I nodded. Is the gap that wide? I thought.
After graduating, she’d taken Library jobs as an adventurer — no other work.
She could be a clerk, but she’d refused — busy.
Reason—
”…Reading time decreases.”
A reason the Third would have agreed with.
And she had a support-type Skill.
“You have a Skill, and you adventure solo? Don’t team up?”
Rude, maybe, but I was hunting comrades.
I wanted to know how Aramsus worked.
Surprisingly, she told me what her Skill did.
“My Skill reads books. Useless in combat, and Library staff in this city have it in droves.”
The Skill [Reading].
A Skill that reads any text — foreign language or ancient — by translating it.
The Third was envious.
“I wanted a Skill like that.”
The Sixth, exasperated.
“The Third’s Skill is the worst among us… useful, but the worst.”
The Third’s Skill was apparently considered the worst of the seven.
I wanted to ask, but couldn’t right now — later.
“Isn’t that an amazing Skill?”
”…Amazing or not — amazing, I suppose, but lots of people have it. And I dislike using it to read.”
A book had to be read. That was her stance.
That kind of person — maybe why the [Reading] Skill manifested.
“Was it okay to tell me?”
She declared fine.
“I’m not allowed to read important books, and [Reading] isn’t omnipotent. It doesn’t keep memories persistent either.”
Not that useful a Skill, lots of holders — not rare.
“As an adventurer doing support — what kind of work?”
”…I get asked that. Basically, I carry packs. I’m small so people think I have no stamina, but the basics I do. Plus magic support. Lighting dungeons, fire, water — by doing things like that I contribute as support.”
The fact that she looked unreliable due to size annoyed her.
But making a small child carry heavy gear did feel wrong.
Looking carefully, her features were actually cute.
If she did her hair and dressed up, she might transform.
”…Lyle-san is an adventurer too, isn’t he?”
“Right. You can tell?”
She answered shortly. “I can tell.”
“If you want intel from me, I’ll share. Treat it as repayment for the meal. — But I don’t fight; I’m a support specialist, so I can’t teach you much.”
She’d taken the meal as a info-gathering pretext.
That was why she’d accepted, maybe.
“Saves time — thanks. You didn’t worry I was a bad sort?”
She shook her head.
“It was the location, and you were reading seriously… if I get tricked, that’s my misjudgment.”
She seemed un-clingy. I just said I see.
After that, small talk. We left.
Clara went home. I started back to the inn—
“Now this is rare.”
A voice. I turned — Miranda.
Recalling the Sixth’s words, I stepped back, warier.
She smirked.
“You didn’t strike me as the type the other day, but — quick hands? Don’t make Aria cry, or the side-pony girl either.”
A mischievous smile. For her age, a cute one.
I felt my wariness dropping.
“That’s not it. I met her at the Library, so I treated her to a meal… no, it’s nothing (can’t push back).”
What I was doing wasn’t different from hitting on someone. I gave up the denial.
She laughed.
“Joke. That girl’s Clara, right? She’s well-known — she probably treated it as a meal and that’s it.”
“Right — only a meal was the deal.”
What am I saying? — I looked at her arms.
“And those?”
The brown paper bags she was carrying held food.
“Oh, these? Groceries. The help we’d hired suddenly quit, so I’m doing the run myself. Live-in, decent pay — they keep quitting fast.”
A troubled face. I offered to carry.
I took the two large grocery bags.
“Thanks. I’ll show you to the house. A bit of a walk — is that okay?”
“Fine.”
”…Hmm. So you are the quick-hands type after all.”
She teased. I denied.
“I am not!”
And we headed for her place.
The Fifth.
“Going on your own? Well — anything happens, you can punch out… but stay wary.”
Two generations ago, House Sirclay had been linked to House Walt by marriage.
Once those people died, ties faded.
But some thread might still tie back, and they might have approached me on purpose.
(Novem and Aria aren’t here — convenient timing. If danger, I deal with it via Skill.)
Miranda’s response on the Skill: not an enemy.
But I wouldn’t drop the wariness.
“All right. Overcautious for nothing — that’s the outcome I’d prefer.”
The Fifth’s voice sounded colder than usual.