WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Dionysus

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◈ The Wizard's Memoir ◈

Chapter 1: Dungeon

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Dungeon.

The word had originally meant a castle’s underground prison. But as times and cultures changed, it came to be used more often for ruins from the ancient kingdoms: old castles, mazes, sewers, and the like. Deep, dark, and damp, they were just what a “dungeon” ought to be.

“Um... hello?”

Adventurers.

There were people whose lives were closely tied to the dungeons found all over the world. Whether they called themselves adventurers or others gave them the name, that was what they were.

Some treated them as mercenaries, others as drifters or bands of odd-job workers. But at least in regions with dungeons, adventuring was accepted as a profession. The proof was the international Adventurers’ Guild, commonly known as the Guild.

“Who might you be?”

“I’m Mage Etran. The Guild recommended that I come here...”

“Etran? Etran... Oh, the genius mage?”

A shaggy-haired young man entered a shack on the outskirts of North-Landing. At first glance, it was hard to tell whether the place was a tavern or an office. In fact, he was a little young to be called a young man.

Sixteen or seventeen, perhaps. It was the perfect age to be treated as a greenhorn in any line of work, yet the tavern keeper greeted him with a bright smile.

“Have a seat here. You’re earlier than I expected. Want something to drink? Ale? Wine? Rum? Whiskey?”

“Um... milk, if possible...”

“Oh, right! You mage fellows don’t care for liquor, do you?”

The main reasons no one could treat him as a mere greenhorn were his black robe, which looked uncomfortable for summer, and his large rings, which looked uncomfortable right now. They were the symbols of a mage, someone who held a special role among adventurers. And he was no ordinary mage, either.

“The genius mage from Storm-Seed University?”

“That’s the one?”

The adventurers gathered in the tavern-like office, also known as a Guild pub, whispered and glanced his way. Anyone with that much fame outside his hometown had to be someone special. Sure enough, one of the adventurers made a move.

“I heard you were coming this way, and here you are. You’re the genius they say comes along once in a thousand years, if that, right?”

The adventurer had taken off most of their equipment while resting in town, but the broad sword at their waist and their iron greaves marked them as a warrior.

“I’m no genius, but... I’m Etran Griff.”

“That’s you, all right. I’m Dermi. I’m a leader and a tank.”

Sometimes people added a suffix and called the role a “tanker.” It was an unfamiliar word to anyone who wasn’t an adventurer. Still, as an aspiring adventurer from a magic university, Etran had a rough idea of what it meant.

The warrior settled naturally into the seat beside Etran and continued.

“In this business, connections are part of your ability. Finding good companions makes all the difference to your results. My party has an opening for a mage. Interested?”

“Oh, really?”

Etran looked pleased, but he also glanced at the tavern keeper. The keeper was the head of this branch, and since Etran had come on a recommendation, there might already be plans for him.

The tavern keeper shrugged and handed the warrior a full mug of beer. All the adventurers here belonged to the Guild, so the keeper seemed happy to leave them to it. Perhaps it was also a relief not to have to find Etran a party.

“I’m a complete beginner. Would that be all right?”

“A mage just needs to be good at magic. I’m the leader, so I’ll give the orders.”

“That’s a relief, then.”

“Which brings me to...”

The warrior took a drink of beer and glanced at Etran’s fingers. It was the mark of an experienced adventurer. Everyone else in the tavern was paying attention, too.

“...How many spells can you use?”

Etran touched the rings on his thumb and middle finger in turn. In truth, they were rather large and awkward to call rings.

“Light Orb, Homing Arrow... and Floating Disc, I suppose...?”

“Three? That’s it?”

Objectively speaking, that wasn’t bad. In fact, by ordinary standards, it was excellent.

The great mage of legend was said to have used a hundred spells, but that was just a legend. By normal, reasonable standards, people called “mages” could use three to five spells. If someone had learned three spells and earned the title of Mage just as they reached adulthood, they had every right to show off a little.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some once-in-an-age genius?”

“I did say I wasn’t...”

That would have been true if Etran hadn’t been called a “genius mage.” The people who had expected something beyond an ordinary mage were disappointed. The warrior drained the mug and stood up.

“I’ll have to discuss it with my companions. It’ll take a while, so don’t wait on me. Have a look at some other parties, too.”

Apparently, the party didn’t have an empty spot for a mage, just one they could make available. If Etran was less capable than the current member, there was no reason to make a change. The offer had fallen through.

Etran hunched his shoulders at the tavern’s suddenly chilly mood. Still, no one insulted or mocked him. Even without being a genius, a mage was rare and valuable. A monster you had mistaken for a dragon was still frightening even if it turned out to be a wyvern. The tavern keeper poured him a glass of milk.

“No need to be disappointed. Plenty of parties are looking for a mage.”

“Ah, yes.”

Etran fiddled with the rings on his left hand. They were called rings because he wore them on his fingers, but they were hardly ordinary rings. They were copper plates that reached up to the second joint of each finger, bearing magic circles he had engraved himself.

“You’ve learned some pretty useful spells, haven’t you?”

Another warrior sat down in the seat the first had left.

A mace with a six-sided head and a pointed estoc hung at the warrior’s side. A round shield large enough to cover the entire upper body was strapped to their back, and they wore a heavy hauberk of double-woven chain mail.

Judging by all that equipment, the warrior had either just returned or was about to set out. Probably the latter. Their well-maintained weapons smelled of oil.

“Too many greenhorns these days are all about looking impressive. They strut around with spells like Fireball or Lightning Strike.”

“Lightning? That’s a very powerful spell.”

“It is. Above ground.”

Etran was a clever mage. He understood the heavily armed warrior’s point at once.

Adventurers mostly traveled deep underground or into dark parts of forests. Those weren’t places where you could call down lightning or throw balls of fire. One wrong move could roast the whole party.

“Still, isn’t that a bit ordinary for a genius? Even that old amateur we used to have could use Light Orb.”

The warrior’s companion approached from behind. Etran took a moment to notice her.

‘A halfling?’

She was a girl in leather armor set with iron studs, carrying several daggers about a handspan long. No, she was a young woman who looked like a girl.

She was only half the warrior’s height, which made her look like a child at first glance. But considering her race, she was surely older than Etran.

“Light Orb was the only spell that old man knew.”

“But he did plenty with that one spell...”

“What’s the point of talking about someone who’s already gone? Forget him.”

Etran quietly watched the adventurers as they began talking among themselves. They were a party made up of a human warrior and a halfling seeker. He looked around to see if there were any other members, but it seemed there were only two.

‘Which means...’

Etran began to feel a little hopeful. With luck, he might be able to join their party. Of course, he would make a wise decision, carefully weighing the terms and circumstances to raise his value and reduce the risks...

“So we just need any mage at all! Hey, you. Want to come with us?”

“Yes.”

Etran answered without even one second’s hesitation. That brought their conversation to a brief halt.

“...You’ll come with us?”

“Yes.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?”

Etran finished his milk and returned the glass. It seemed like time to stop drinking. He had only just arrived and hadn’t unpacked, so there was nothing else to prepare.

“The dungeons around here are the Shadow Castle Ruins and the Well Cavern beneath them. Exploration of the castle ruins is almost complete, so you must be going to the cavern. That’s where you’d need a halfling seeker.”

“You know we’re going into a dungeon, and you’ll just follow us? Even for a beginner, you’re far too fearless.”

Etran glanced at the warrior’s and the seeker’s light packs.

“Judging by your equipment, this isn’t a full expedition. It’s a preliminary survey, isn’t it? I imagine you’ll just check the entrance locations and what monsters live there before coming back, so it should take a day and a half at most. Is there anything I need to bring?”

For a proper adventure deep underground, their packs would have to be three times that size. They would need at least three days’ worth of food, drinking water, and lantern oil, along with tools, rope, medicines, and other supplies for emergencies. The halfling seeker clapped her hands in admiration.

“Wow, you’ve got a sharp eye! I guess you’re not just any greenhorn.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

Etran gave a small bow, then looked at the warrior. This was the leader, so the decision would rest with them. The warrior scratched the back of their head, where their hair was tied in a short tail, then said,

“I don’t usually form a party like this... But as you said, this isn’t a full expedition, so it should be fine. All right. I’m Olivia. I’m the tank.”

“I’m Dahlia! I handle support!”

Etran looked from the warrior to the seeker. Their names seemed a little odd, but he would have to ask about that later. As a mage with proper manners, he couldn’t leave himself out of the introductions.

“I’m Etran Griff. A full-fledged mage and a beginner adventurer.”

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