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...I didn't have that bad a temper, Keweite, as long as the five-star old man stayed out of my laboratory-

Uh, but I noticed that the familiar in front of me had gone as stiff as a solid block of iron. I seemed to see Mel's expression again, blacker than his robes. The five-star old man had a lot of fat on his neck... I felt the shadow should be able to wring it easily enough... So I couldn't resist letting go of its poor little beak and patting it on the head again, to soothe the sulking Mel.

"Doug won't do anything to me," I said. "After all, his level of magic is really... hard to describe."

On second thought, I decided I'd better not say outright that "Doug's magic is utterly lousy" in front of a young kid. I was afraid it would have a bad effect—if young kids saw that someone so terrible at magic could climb to such a high position, they might all stop applying themselves and take up playing politics instead. That would be awful. I didn't want to see all my former assistants turn into fat men who talked like bureaucrats a few years from now.

Fat men who talked like bureaucrats and were utterly lousy at magic.

"...I'm not talking about magic!" Keweite sounded utterly desperate. "Anyway, please come over now. I'm begging you. Lord Doug said we all have to assemble. Everyone at the research institute has to go show support for His Excellency Mephistopheles."

He looked about to cry again. He really was my most tearful assistant. Unfortunately, he was a pure human. If only he had a little Creek Pine Plain hard-shell turtle blood in him. That kind of turtle's tears were very expensive, because a magic materials merchant had told me that making a turtle cry all the time was somewhat unethical. Keweite, on the other hand, didn't need anyone to make him cry. He only had to squeeze his eyes a little and the tears came.

But since his tears were of no use whatsoever, I had no choice but to agree before they contaminated the materials cabinet in my office.

"?" I hung up the phone and looked at Mel in puzzlement. "You have another speech today?"

"No." Mel went from sulking to looking utterly innocent in a second. He answered in confusion, "The summit isn't being broadcast to the public today. It's all the higher-ups plotting this and that. I only have to go sit there."

But after I pressed him repeatedly, he suddenly realized something. "Oh, I remember now. Yesterday, the first time I sent a familiar to find you, didn't a politician come over and interrupt me halfway through? That five-star old man came too. He seemed to say something about... cooperation?"

"Cooperation? With the research institute? On what?" More importantly, "You actually agreed?"

Mel said matter-of-factly, "I don't know what it was about. I wasn't listening."

I couldn't hold back my laughter again. After trying very hard to contain it, I said, "...All right, I'll come show my support in a little while."

"Wait!" Mel suddenly called out to me. "Don't listen to that fat old man. Whatever you do, don't wear your institute's uniform. The five-star old man wears it too, and it's really ugly!"

"...You just think the five-star old man is ugly, don't you?"

"It's ugly anyway," Mel answered firmly.

I shook my head helplessly. "Then what should I wear?"

The familiar tilted its head, then suddenly opened its beak and released a neatly folded robe from the magic space inside its body. I was surprised. I picked it up—it was exactly the same style as the one Mel had worn that day, right down to the embroidery.

Mel's claws unconsciously began scratching at the desktop again. He said, "This is my favorite style to wear, and the embroidery is my favorite too... I specifically asked an elven artisan to make several identical ones for me... I accidentally ruined your robe in the wash, so... I hope you don't mind that I've worn this one."

How could I mind... Uh, ah, wait... Mel, you ruined it in the wash? How hard did you scrub my robe? Or rather, what did you scrub it with?

Apparently my question was especially obvious, because Mel's familiar hopped twice and said, "I was afraid I wouldn't wash it properly, so I did it myself instead of using Shadow Dance. Who knew I'd overestimated my own housekeeping skills..."

Perhaps my amusement was a little too obvious. The raven lowered its head, closed its beak, and started clawing at my desk again.

...Oh, no, this wouldn't be my desk much longer. It belonged to the institute, so I might as well let him scratch. I figured that if I told the people in charge at the institute that these were scratches made by the archmage Mephistopheles, not only would they not be angry, they'd even put it on display to show it off!

Before he could scratch a hole through the desktop, I had to smile and say, "Thank you. I wanted to tell you when we first met that I really liked this robe of yours too."

"That's wonderful!

Put it

on, quick!" Mel raised his head again and said happily.

I had to admit, Mel's robe was better than mine. I'd bought mine on sale at a ready-made clothing shop, and it was already the most mage-like one I could find. Uh, yes, even though it really was a shop specializing in magic robes, but... I didn't know what had happened to fashion designers these past two years. The new robes were generally in styles that only Moli would like. I really didn't want to be a "death-metal smoky-eyed mage."

I still felt that cutouts at the waist, holes all over, or even a bare shoulder-just one, at that-might barely pass on a bard, but on a mage... I was afraid I wouldn't be able to resist throwing a forbidden spell. Even if the mage dressed like that was Moli, the most I'd do was refrain from throwing an instant-death forbidden spell.

Fortunately, after I burned a pair of Moli's hole-riddled magic pants-someone actually thought robes were inconvenient and asked for a skintight outfit with pants? How constricting! Besides, what kind of mage didn't wear a robe?-forcing her to stay invisible for a whole day while helping me with an experiment, she never dared appear before me in such breezy clothes again... Though I didn't think she'd necessarily realized her mistake. Rather, it was because later she was running low on Magic Power and had to switch to half an Invisibility Spell, making her lower body invisible while leaving her upper body visible. Keweite saw her when he came in, and the poor kid cried for an entire afternoon. His crying made our colleagues at the institute think Moli had done something to him, and Moli, such a sunny, positive child, almost jumped off a building.

...Well, almost, because in the end I reminded her not to call herself my apprentice if she fell to her death. I didn't take apprentices who couldn't even cast Feather Fall. It was too embarrassing.

As a mage, if a person couldn't even dress with dignity and care, he was very likely to be just as lax in his academic work. I knew young people nowadays always liked to be fashionable, so I didn't mind them dressing like the undead, but at the very least they shouldn't come to my laboratory looking like that. (Once, Moli had a decorative chain of skulls hanging from her waist, but it turned out to be an ordinary accessory mass-produced on a clothing factory assembly line. It wasn't resistant to magic, so Magic Power snapped it and it fell into a crucible. Moli was nearly turned into a real banshee by the potion that splashed out.) In their free time, they could even run around naked for all I cared.

I couldn't help bringing the issue up with Mel. He said, "There really aren't any good robe shops in Holy Light City. We should go to Silverheart Fortress when we get the chance. There are several old shops there that have been making robes for thousands of years, with craftsmanship passed down through their families. Even if you buy ready-made instead of ordering custom, the quality is very dependable. Then we can find elves to make accessories. Their craftsmanship isn't just beautiful; they can also incorporate miniature magic arrays into the decorative patterns."

"Silverheart Fortress. I've always wanted to go there. 'Royal Capital of the Mystic Arts,' the 'Arcane Orb' on the southern frontier. Thousands of years ago, it was a city of mages." I couldn't help looking wistful. "The elven territories are farther south, right? So you must go there often?"

Mel nodded. "Yes. Once this busy period is over, let's take a trip to Silverheart Fortress. Come to think of it, I haven't been there in a while either."

"Sure." I nodded and put on the robe as I spoke.

"Xipei! You look wonderful in it!" Mel happily flew a circle around me. "I have others in the same style with different embroidery. You have to try them all. They look wonderful!"

"...Mel." My hands paused on the buttons, and I said helplessly, "This is a complete set of formal robes for special occasions. I've only just put on the innermost layer..."

Mel answered with complete confidence, "Because the mage wearing it looks good, you'd look good even draped in a rag."