CHAPTER 2 | Part-Time Adventurer Edition

  When Seneca awoke, she found herself in a bed within a private room.

  The gentle fragrance in the air led her to believe she was in Sister Cire's room.

  She slowly propped herself up.

  A dizzying sensation overtook her, and her body felt completely drained of energy.

  She realised then that her magical power had run out.

  The door creaked open, and the headmistress entered the room.

  "Seneca, you're awake?" she asked, her voice calm.

  Seneca nodded weakly.

  "I heard you colpsed," the headmistress continued. "When I went to check, I found you unconscious from magic exhaustion. I could tell right away you’d be fine, but Emily was in a right panic. Calming her down was no easy task."

  A vivid image of the scene fshed in Seneca's mind, and she grimaced.

  "It's been a long time since you’ve drained your magic like that," the headmistress observed. "I knew you’ve been pushing yourself recently, but did you really need to go that far?"

  After a moment of thought, Seneca nodded again.

  "I see," the headmistress said, her gaze softening. "Well, if that’s the case, it’s alright. But remember, you must take care of yourself. Not just for your sake, but for the sake of those around you too."

  Seneca couldn’t bring herself to meet the headmistress’s gaze as she looked at her with such earnestness.

  "You haven’t come to me for advice tely, have you?" the headmistress continued. "If you're managing just fine, that’s good. I know you have plenty of people by your side. But if you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask. The struggle of not knowing whether to ask for advice is often what causes the most pain."

  When Seneca finally met the headmistress's gaze, she found her smiling gently.

  "Seneca," the headmistress said, "I’m going to give you a punishment. You’ll have to talk with the others in the orphanage. It’ll help you understand just how much worry you’ve caused them. Don’t turn away from that."

  The headmistress embraced Seneca warmly.

  "Seneca, you’re my precious daughter too. Don’t rush through life."

  And with those words, Seneca finally broke down in tears. She clung to the headmistress, soaking in the warmth and comfort of the embrace.

  ...

  "Ugh..." Seneca muttered, deep in thought.

  After waking up, Seneca spent time talking with the people from the orphanage. It seemed she had caused quite a bit of worry for Sister Cire and Emily, and they’d scolded her a little. She had thanked them both and promised to be more careful going forward.

  She also spoke with Nord and the others.

  She had been worried about what they might say, but to her surprise, their words were gentle and understanding.

  Nord, after a brief and distant response, had quickly resumed his sword training.

  Kito, too, had learned of the incident, but as she could tell Seneca was reflecting on her actions, she said nothing more.

  Having rested properly, Seneca’s magic had fully recovered. She still felt a little sluggish, but it wasn’t anything concerning.

  As she quietly passed the time in her room at the orphanage, Seneca found herself deep in thought.

  She recalled the mysterious voice and the strange sensation, and with a mental focus, she attempted to summon the [Magical Needle]. To her surprise, a needle appeared in her hand. It was threaded with magical energy, and she could use it to sew.

  Testing it, Seneca pricked the needle into the hide of a wild bear, and to her amazement, it slid through with ease—far easier than anything she had ever encountered before.

  Though much remained unclear, Seneca had no doubt this ability was connected to the mysterious voice she’d heard.

  ...

  After pondering for a while with little understanding, Seneca decided to ask Emily about it.

  "Hey, Emily. Do you know about level-ups?"

  "Yeah, that's about skills, right?" Emily responded, her tone matter-of-fact.

  Seneca nodded enthusiastically.

  "Weren’t you listening during your studies?" Emily teased.

  Seneca could practically hear the sound of her own internal gulp.

  "Leveling up means a skill becomes much stronger. You get to do more things with it," Emily expined.

  "More things?" Seneca asked, curious.

  "Yeah! For example, with [Sewing], you can make clothes super fast, and you’ll be able to tell exactly where to cut without needing a pattern."

  "Wow, that sounds really handy!" Seneca excimed.

  "It's more than handy, it’s a game-changer! Only people who’ve worked really hard for years can reach level 2," Emily added.

  "Wait, really?" Seneca said, surprised.

  "Yup! Mint, the head seamstress, said once she hits level 2, she'll be able to work independently."

  Seneca broke out in a nervous sweat.

  "How many people at Torga’s shop have leveled up?" she asked, a bit anxious.

  "Just three: Torga, Tunika, and Par," Emily replied. "The shop manager, the assistant manager, and the young ace seamstress. They’ve all been sewing for over ten years."

  "Are you aiming for level 2, Emily?" Seneca asked, intrigued.

  "Of course! If I hit level 2 like Par, I might even get an offer from the capital!" Emily beamed with excitement.

  "Level 2 must be really hard to get," Seneca remarked.

  "Yeah, compared to adventurers, it's definitely harder to level up."

  "Ah, I see," Seneca said, nodding.

  Adventurers were a different story, it seemed. At the thought, Seneca’s spirits lifted.

  "They say you can level up by overcoming danger and defeating stronger foes," Emily expined.

  "That’s amazing!" Seneca excimed.

  "Once you hit level 2, your skills can even rise to copper rank. That’s how strong you get. But some people even go from level 2 to gold rank," Emily added.

  "Really? That’s incredible," Seneca said in awe.

  It seemed even for adventurers, such achievements were no easy feat.

  "Do you think those people had powerful skills?" Seneca wondered aloud. She briefly thought of Lucius but chose not to bring it up, sensing it might complicate things.

  "Hey, Emily, so how exactly does one level up? For example, with [Sewing], do I just make a lot of clothes, and for [Swordsmanship], do I just defeat strong enemies?" Seneca asked, eager for crity.

  "Skills have something called ‘proficiency,’ which builds up over time. The more you challenge yourself, the more you gain. For [Sewing], they say making difficult clothes increases proficiency faster."

  "So, for battle skills, I guess fighting stronger enemies increases proficiency too?" Seneca reasoned.

  "Yeah, that’s about right."

  In the world, this process was commonly referred to as "earning higher proficiency."

  Seneca, now deep in thought, considered whether leather might count as a "strong enemy" in terms of battle skills. Her mind whirred as she pondered how she might accumute proficiency more efficiently.

  ...

  After carefully testing the properties of the magic needle and thread, Seneca decided it was time to venture out for some monster hunting.

  She could alter the needle’s length and shape, and if she could use it strategically, she might be able to adapt it to various situations.

  The needle had considerable penetrating power and strength. With enough focus, she could probably sew through wood as well.

  But there were times when she struggled to get the needle through, and Seneca was determined to understand the difference between those moments.

  Furthermore, it seemed that her magic control had greatly improved with the increase in her proficiency.

  The thread could also change thickness and properties. It could stretch and contract slightly, which might prove useful in the future.

  Both the needle and the thread would vanish if left untouched for half a day, but with a simple mental command to "dispel," they disappeared instantly.

  Though Seneca wasn’t yet sure how best to use them, she figured that testing them on monsters might offer some answers.