The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 6

by Satoshi Wagahara

  “Th-thanks in advance for this!”

  The two of them exchanged glances. Chiho couldn’t be acting nicer toward them. Emi still had no idea what taking a bath had to do with holy-magic training, but Suzuno was a highly trained cleric—she must have had her reasons. No point asking questions that would put a damper on Chiho’s spirits.

  “So now what? You aren’t gonna lecture her on the basics of a public bath, are you?”

  “No, now is no time for a long-winded treatise on the fundamentals. Plus, not that I distrust Chiho, but such a comprehensive approach might accidentally open her mind to other abilities apart from the Idea Link. For now, we must take the time to focus on keeping her stable and working her through the basic skill set.”

  “Wow. Sounds kinda tough. But exciting!”

  Chiho’s voice was starting to sound a tad strained. Emi gave her a pat on the back. “Don’t get too nervous. It’s important that you stay relaxed at the start. I’m sure that’s why Bell brought us to the bathhouse.”

  “Precisely. Now, while we still have the bath to ourselves, I say we bask in the water and relieve some of the fatigue from the morning’s work.”

  “Sure thing!”

  Just a bit of the burden lifted from her shoulders, Chiho eagerly brought her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt.

  Several minutes later:

  “……”

  “……”

  “Um… Yusa? Suzuno?”

  On the seating in front of the well-polished tile wall, Chiho carefully eyed Emi and Suzuno as they washed their hair and bodies. Their faces looked oddly tormented, and they had looked that way since the moment she’d removed her top in the changing room.

  Both of them kept their heads down as water poured from the showerheads mounted on the wall. That way, she wouldn’t have to see their tears of jealous frustration.

  “I wondered about this at our inn while in Choshi, too, but…man, what did she do to get so, um, big?”

  “Uhmm…”

  “I am certain that we received just as much nutrition as she has, growing up…but why…?”

  “Ehmm…”

  “But think about it, Bell. Those have to get in the way in battle.”

  “Would they? Well. A pity for her, then…I suppose…”

  A heavy sigh echoed across the otherwise empty bath chamber. Chiho, who wrapped up her washing first due to her short hair but felt odd leaving the other two to themselves, tentatively asked a question.

  “Um…is something up?”

  The way she was so oblivious made it impossible for them to envy or tease her about it. All they could do was look at her, shampoo bubbles in their hair, and mutter to themselves:

  “Best not to keep abreast of it.”

  “Huh?!”

  Chiho, oblivious as she was, looked at the two of them with concern in her eyes.

  The Hero and Church cleric, watching Chiho act confused in the most darling of ways in front of them, silently apologized for their behavior over the past few seconds. They knew Chiho wasn’t at fault for this.

  “…Nothing is more embarrassing for a cleric than letting her feelings turn to jealousy…”

  “And she won’t even let us do that… Man, Chiho can be scary sometimes.”

  They washed their hair in silence before rinsing the rest of their bodies. In the duration, Suzuno attempted to put the issue behind her. Because:

  “Now, Chiho! It is time to begin training!”

  “Huh? Oh, uh, okay, but… Huh?”

  “It’s fine, Chiho,” Emi soothed the dubious Chiho with a smile of resignation. Emi and Suzuno had towels wrapped around their bodies, and although they had just finished washing their hair, Chiho noticed that Suzuno had her hairpin in her hand. She wondered idly if the humidity in the air might damage it.

  “First, I’d like you to go into the shower booth over there and put the showerhead up as high as it’ll go.”

  “A-all right.”

  The booths at the far end of the chamber, as opposed to the showers lining the tiled wall, were the regular kind one saw in home bathrooms, featuring handheld showerheads attached by hoses to the tap. Suzuno had Chiho put the head up to the highest position on the wall, then stood her under it.

  “Why that shower, though?”

  The casual question lobbed by Emi from behind was greeted with a clear answer from Suzuno.

  “All of the best training involves silent meditation seated under a waterfall at some point, does it not?”

  “……Huh?”

  Chiho and Emi froze for a moment.

  Fwooooosssshhhh…

  As Chiho stood rigid, eyes closed, feeling the hot water against her skin, she began to kindle a few doubts about Suzuno’s training methods. Emi, relaxing in a semiwarm bath in front of the shower booth, had the same concern, eyeing Suzuno with clear suspicion on her face. Suzuno had a habit of using her admittedly vast knowledge of Japanese culture, making terribly wrong assumptions with it, and taking it to the looniest of extremes.

  Chiho had mixed feelings about this. She had seen Buddhist monks praying underneath waterfalls on TV as a child, and she had often pretended to do the same thing at bathhouses or hot springs. It wasn’t unfamiliar to her, in other words, but it wasn’t something she thought had much purpose.

  Suzuno adjusted the nozzle so that it wasn’t going full blast but instead dribbled a thick stream of water directly on top of Chiho’s head in an earnest attempt to simulate a gushing cliffside torrent.

  Adding to the worry were the voices they heard over the wall on the men’s side of the bath.

  “Hah-hah! Hey, Alas Ramus! It’s time for your ninja training!”

  “Your Demonic Highness! That shower is far too hot for her! If you want to pretend it’s a waterfall, use the adjacent one instead!”

  It began to make Chiho wonder what she was doing with her life.

  “Now,” Suzuno intoned, “I want you to stay in that position and listen to me. How confident are you in your strength, Chiho?”

  Chiho kept her eyes shut, taking pains to ensure water didn’t enter her mouth.

  “Well, I guess I’m about as strong as anyone else… I play a few sports at school.”

  “In Ente Isla, those who wield holy power are known as casters. This power is fundamentally different from what this world would call ‘magic.’ I have the impression that in Japan and elsewhere in the world, magic wielders are often seen as elderly, bearded, and rather physically weak.”

  “…I suppose, yeah. I don’t play them too much, but wizards in video games and stuff usually don’t have swords or anything—agphh!”

  Chiho swayed a bit to keep from aspirating water through her nose.

  “That is not the case with a caster. If a strong caster and a weak one cast the same spell, the one cast by the stronger will be both more powerful and more effective on a greater variety of targets. Thus, no matter how much natural talent one may have, a child caster would never have a chance at being more capable than the equivalent adult caster.”

  “Uh, were you watching the Movie of the Week yesterday, Bell?”

  Emi recalled that Suzuno bought a flat-screen TV at the same time Maou did. Last night, a station was playing the first in a certain series of films starring a young, bespectacled wizard in training.

  “They were carrying on about it next door, so I turned it on to see what the fuss was about and wound up watching the entire film. I slept in a bit this morning as a result.”

  Chiho, eyes still closed, chuckled to herself. She knew Maou was something of a closet film buff.

  “But there are many cases of elderly casters attempting a spell they could easily weave during their prime, but dying as a result because the stress was too great on their frail bodies. Assuming one begins at fifteen, devotes oneself fully to training, and is willing to abstain from unhealthy habits for the sake of it, one’s holy force stays at its peak only until the age of forty, it is said.”

&nbs
p; “Wow… Sounds kind of like being a professional athlete.”

  “Indeed. If someone over fifty can fully wield holy force without the aid of an amplifying device, that would be considered a once-in-a-generation talent. I know this is not a name you two enjoy hearing, but Olba is approaching sixty and still has full control over his holy powers. A practically inhuman feat, that!”

  “Yeah… He was a fairly even match for Alciel in demon form, too.”

  Emi stretched in the bath as she recalled fighting Olba and Lucifer underneath the collapsing Shuto Expressway. The fact that Olba still felt obliged to arm himself with a handgun in Japan was an indicator, perhaps, that he didn’t want to overexert himself with casting beyond what was safe.

  “Most of who are called the Six Archbishops are cut from the same cloth—elderly casters who still wield considerable powers. But they are the exception that proves the rule. Your sports analogy was expertly stated, Chiho. Think of the ability to cast holy magic as directly proportional to one’s core strength and musculature. As for why that is… Emilia, after you imbue your body with holy energy, where is it stored?”

  Emi provided a concise answer.

  “The heart.”

  “Huhh?!”

  Chiho had assumed that the power just sort of spread itself around her body, not just to a single internal organ.

  “The reasoning is simple. The oxygen taken in by one’s lungs is transported via the bloodstream across the body, and the heart is the pump that circulates this blood around. In order to cast holy magic, one must transport the energy to either one’s entire body or to the necessary region. Just like oxygen, this energy, too, is taken into the bloodstream. To be more exact, the heart acts as a sort of terminal for holy energy as it is circulated around. Now do you see why casting is so intricately connected to physical strength?”

  Suzuno paused for a moment before continuing.

  “To put it in rather a brash manner, if there is enough holy force transmitted across one’s body, even if the resulting burden causes the terminal—the heart—to explode, it is theoretically possible to focus all the circulating force in the body back to its core to reconstruct the heart.”

  The concept made Chiho freeze in the shower.

  “Not that one would dare attempt to brave such undulating waves of force within their own body—it would have to be desperate times in battle indeed to attempt it. You certainly need never worry about that, Chiho, with the power circulating through you right now. Your body’s metabolism breaks down only a tiny amount of it at a time; only through actually casting holy energy can one consume it very quickly. It was something we never noticed on Ente Isla, since we regenerated it naturally—only in Japan did it become an issue. Thanks to that, I have made a fascinating discovery…”

  Suzuno used a finger to scratch the back of her hand.

  “When one has a great capacity for holy force and that capacity grows full, it helps make your skin shinier and less dry.”

  “Huhh?!”

  This even surprised Emi.

  “So that—agh!” Chiho, too, was surprised, judging by how she opened her eyes and promptly had them stung by the hot water. “So—Suzuno, that’s why your skin’s always in such good shape? Like, without any makeup or anything?”

  “That, of course, plus a well-balanced diet. Sweets and snacks at a minimum, coupled with regular exercise. And early to bed, early to rise, as they say.”

  “……”

  Whether she intended it to sound like a lecture or not, Suzuno’s lifestyle was something neither the chocoholic night-owl teenager nor the call-center rep who split her meals between microwaved junk and take-out junk (and, sometimes, microwaved take-out junk) could hope to emulate. Emi began scratching the back of her own hand, perhaps not as confident of her own skin’s quality.

  “W-well…I’ve been cooking more for Alas Ramus lately, so I’m trying, at least…”

  “Unless your metabolism has changed greatly,” Suzuno said, “I would say you have Alas Ramus to thank for your skin more than anything else. She has fused with you, and the Holy Silver that forms your sword cannot be removed from your body. If there are any gaps in your holy-force quotient, I would imagine Alas Ramus more than makes up for them.”

  “Huh… Y’know, I think my appetite’s gotten healthier lately, actually…”

  “Yusa! Can we get back on topic?”

  “Regardless,” Suzuno said, taking Chiho’s cue to free Emi from her trip into the halls of self-pity. “The point is that one’s physical strength directly correlates to their casting strength. Or, to put it another way, casting holy spells can have an exhausting effect.”

  “A-all right,” said Chiho. It was a fairly circuitous route to that conclusion, but it seemed sensible enough.

  “Emilia and I may seem to be casting our holy force around willy-nilly, but that is because we have the physical strength to back that up. Even if we are injured, we can consume the holy force spread across our body to speed up our healing abilities. Thus, for example, if you and I sustained the same wound, Chiho, that would not restrict me quite as much as it would you.”

  “Wow. So that’s why you guys can keep fighting if you get shot in the shoulder or slashed in the arm with a sword and stuff…?”

  “Uh, that still hurts a lot for us, Chiho. We’re not action-movie heroes.”

  From Chiho’s experience, at least, it had certainly seemed that way during the battles she’d witnessed.

  “Indeed. And when you are still a neophyte in the realm of holy power, harnessing it will sap your energy beyond imagination. We will need to begin by teaching you how to activate this power, move on to casting procedures, then finish up with how to use the force in as efficient a manner as possible. …That should be long enough of a shower. Next, I will have you enter this lukewarm bath.”

  “S-sure!”

  Chiho left the shower booth, shaking off the excess moisture from her hair and wrapping it up with her towel.

  “No doing up your hair, Chiho. Just wipe it down and enter the bath.”

  “Oh, uh, okay.” Giving it a few decent rubs, Chiho entered the bath, taking care not to let her hair touch the water.

  “Place the back of your head against the edge of the bath… Good. Now, loosen your body up, just enough so that you can feel your body floating. Next, I want you to picture the holy force running across your upper body, from the top of your head to the ends of your fingertips.”

  This reminded Chiho well enough of the Zen focusing exercises she was taught in her kyudo archery club at high school. She followed Suzuno’s instructions, letting the tension flow away from her body. The warmth felt good against her skin, and she found herself naturally floating upward.

  The back of her head, previously beaten upon by the narrowed shower flow, gradually began to feel like it existed above her instead, a sensation difficult to experience elsewhere. That must have been what the “waterfall” bit was for. Chiho apologized internally for doubting Suzuno for a moment.

  There was still no sense of some otherworldly power teeming across her body, yet the excitement of taking a journey into an unknown realm of consciousness made Chiho reflexively smile to herself. She had a serious reason for wanting to harness this force, but there was no resisting the pride that came from being able to do something she couldn’t before.

  “Right… It is flowing healthily, yes. No bottlenecks.”

  “Yeah, it couldn’t be smoother. Stable, too.”

  The next thing Chiho knew, Suzuno and Emi were each holding one of her hands in place, no doubt monitoring her internals.

  “All right. Now it is time to activate it. As a beginner, I would not expect you capable of unleashing strictly the amount of holy force your spell requires. For now, just give each casting everything you have within you. We can focus on eliminating waste after that. I suppose athletics are somewhat similar in this respect as well, yes?”

  They were. In terms of physical performance,
at least. The mental game was another matter.

  “Now, I want you to take deep breaths. Breathe in slowly, through your nose, then exhale slowly through your mouth. I want you to feel the air and the blood that courses through your body.”

  “All right.” Chiho followed her command for the next little while. By the end of it, she was sweating.

  “Yes. Very good. Now, Chiho, open your eyes and sit up.”

  She did. The exercise, plus the heating effect of the bath, made her feel pleasantly warm all over.

  “Now, Emilia, if you could, I want you to show us a spell. One that does not require some manner of amplifying device, please.”

  Emi blinked, not expecting to be called upon. “No amplifier? Most of what I knew is powered either by my sword or the Cloth of the Dispeller, but—”

  “Um, I’m sorry,” Chiho said, cutting her off, “but what do you mean by an ‘amplifier’?”

  “Ah. Yes. My apologies. It is, to put it simply, a tool required to cast spells. In my case, for example…”

  Suzuno sat up, taking the hairpin sitting on the lip of the tub, and held it in the air.

  “Whoa!”

  The pin began to shine, transforming into an enormous war hammer in the blink of an eye.

  Chiho tensed. A hammer of this size, inside a public bath. If anyone decided to blunder in for an afternoon soak right now, it’d be hard to provide a coherent excuse.

  “I use my hairpin as an agent to conjure this spell. I will gloss over the details for now, but having an agent, or an amplifier, handy makes it much easier to conceptualize what you are trying to use your holy power for. This means less power wasted. The amplifier itself does not need to be any particularly special device.”

  Suzuno’s hairpin was an exquisite piece of Asian fashion, but it was neither holy nor magical in nature. It was just one of the many purchases she made during the glitzy shopping spree that marked her first few days in Japan.

  “Okay. Well, I really oughta be casting this with my Cloth, but… Heavenly Fleet Feet!”

  There was a clear exclamation point on the end, but Emi’s voice was soft as she remained seated in the bath. Then, on the floor of the tub, her legs began to light up as she literally floated into the air, legs still crossed.