That evening, after supper, Leon found Erika in the bakery's kitchen, wiping down the wooden counter. "Mom, I'm moving to my teacher's place tomorrow. He's building an herb garden in a valley outside town, and we'll live there to learn better."
"Outside town?" Erika's hands stilled, worry creasing her brow. "Is it safe?"
"Dahlia and Flower are coming too—Lord Sainsbury's kids," Leon said. "Nothing will happen to us."
Erika relaxed, nodding. "What do you need to bring?" She agreed without further questions—having the lord's children as companions eased all her fears.
Leon didn't tell her about the magic lessons. Im had warned him: ordinary people called all spellcasters "witches," and fear led to suspicion, especially in remote areas with little magic. For now, it was safer to say he was studying with the lord's scholar-tutor—a story Erika and Garin happily accepted.
Erika packed a small wooden chest with Leon's clothes. Leon prepared his own backpack—a three-layer linen bag he'd begged her to sew, modeled after his past-life laptop bag: a front pocket for small tools, a divided main compartment, and two side pockets (too small for a water bottle or umbrella, but useful for spices). Back on Earth, he'd carried a laptop and notebooks; here, it held his camshaft crossbow, jars of herbs and spices (many of which doubled as medicinal plants), and a small knife.
Most villagers used woven baskets or burlap sacks, but Leon hated their clumsiness. This backpack was a small link to his old life—a programmer's staple, reborn for a fantasy world. He'd tried sewing it himself, but his stitches were uneven and loose; Erika had fixed it with neat, tight loops.
The next morning, Leon said goodbye to his family and walked to the lord's manor. The four of them—Im, Leon, Dahlia, Flower—plus a driver, set off, the cart creaking under the weight of their luggage. Leon thought of Journey to the West: four travelers and a "white dragon horse" (the cart). No guards came—Im had likely refused them, wanting his students to learn self-reliance.
By the time they reached the valley, Leon's back and legs ached. "My butt feels like it's been kicked by a mule," he muttered.
Im dismissed the driver, then turned to the students, his tone stern. "No maids, no cooks, no one to help. You'll build your own shelter, cook your own meals, and keep up with lessons. If you can't handle it, leave—magic isn't for the weak."
He glanced at their luggage—Flower had two large chests, Dahlia five (each over 60 centimeters tall, heavy even empty), and Leon his small chest and backpack. "Carry your things to the camp you found yesterday." With that, Im walked off, his own wooden chests floating behind him—magic making the task effortless.
The three students stared, wide-eyed. "Magic is so convenient," Dahlia breathed.
Leon shook them out of it. "Let's take the light stuff first, then come back. The driver's gone, so we're on our own."
Flower grabbed one of his chests, grunting under the weight, and Leon helped him haul it up the hillside. Dahlia couldn't lift even one of her boxes. "Leon, why did you bring so little?" Flower panted when they reached the camp.
"Clothes and spices," Leon said. "It's not far from town—we can fetch more if we need it. No point carrying everything."
"Master said we'd live here permanently," Dahlia protested.
"He didn't say we couldn't visit home," Leon replied.
They made three trips down and up the hillside. Flower's second chest was the heaviest—when Leon asked, Flower admitted it held a half-plate armor his elder brother had given him. "I'll never be a knight, so he gave me his old set. I wanted to keep it close."
Leon groaned. "You could've left it at the manor! It weighs a ton."
By the time they'd moved all of Flower's and Leon's things, they were sweating and breathless. Dahlia's five large boxes still sat at the valley entrance. She sighed, then ran off to find Im.
"Master, please help!" she begged, her voice going syrupy. "We're sorry—we'll listen to you, I promise! You used magic for your luggage, and we're future mages—we shouldn't be hauling heavy boxes like laborers!"
Im crossed his arms. "What exactly are you sorry for?"
"Everything! I'm sorry for being foolish, master~" Dahlia draw out her words, pouting. She'd never thought about what she'd done wrong. "I'm such a delicate tomboy—how can you make me carry those boxes?" She blurted out the nickname Leon had given her, too flustered to think.
Im sighed, defeated. "Fine." He followed her to the luggage, waved his hand, and muttered a soft incantation. A cool breeze swept over the boxes. "Feather Fall. They're lighter now—carry them up."
Dahlia wanted to complain—she'd hoped Im would float them—but Flower shook his head, mouthing "don't push it." The boxes now weighed only 10 to 15 kilograms each. Leon and Flower lifted one together, and Dahlia managed a small one on her own.
By sunset, all the luggage was at the camp. Leon and Flower collapsed onto a chest, gasping for air. Dahlia brushed dust off her dress, staring at the empty hillside.
Leon looked around—no tents, no beds, no fire pit—and turned to Im. "Master, where are we going to sleep tonight? There's nothing here but trees and rocks."