"Huh... this is actually kinda fun."
Birdsong rang out noisily in the early morning. Aisha slumped on her bed, rubbing her stiff neck.
Ugh. The sunlight is way too bright.
Wait, did I really just spend the whole night doing this?
It all started when she wanted to see the spell model Zorco had been tinkering with. Just a quick look. A casual study session.
Sure, the spell used thousands of inscriptions for something as silly as a jumping game—but it wasn't complex. The logic was straightforward, and there were no casting constraints. The model felt... recklessly thrown together.
She spotted over a dozen flaws with just one glance.
And yet—it actually worked.
When she tried correcting those errors, Zorco panicked and stopped her on the spot.
"Look, it runs, okay? Don't touch it. Who cares how it works."
Despite Zorco's bizarre approach to inscriptions—completely un-mage-like—learning it was surprisingly smooth. After just over an hour, Aisha had her own version of "Jump-Jump" up and running.
Before starting, she glanced at Zorco's high score: 654.
Tch. What kind of ancient red dragon only gets a few hundred points in such a simple game? She'd memorized the whole thing just by watching.
All right, ten minutes. She'd beat that score and then mock him hard.
Confidently, she began.
Hold... release... Her piece soared past the second box and hit the floor. Game over. Score: 0.
"Pffff—" Zorco's laugh dealt true damage.
"I-it's my first time, okay?! You just wait!"
She stormed off to her room. Clearly, Zorco's annoying presence was messing with her flow.
Take two.
Hold... release... The piece landed squarely in the center. +2 points.
Oh? Hitting the middle gives bonus points? Beating Zorco's score was gonna be even easier now.
With each round, her rhythm improved. Her score climbed rapidly. 80... 90... Almost 100!
Huh? Why's the box getting smaller?
Stay calm. Don't panic.
Hold... release—
Game over.
Thwack!
Her palm smacked the mattress. Bed HP -1.
Third attempt.
...
And so the night passed.
By morning, she looked like a disaster. Not just tired, not just sleep-deprived—she was puff-eyed and emotionally devastated.
Her final score? 648.
Just below Zorco.
She was mentally fried—but too exhausted to even rage properly.
Thankfully, it was Monday. The toy shop was closed. Otherwise, she'd be dragging herself in looking like a plush version of herself. Honestly, she didn't even know how she was still upright.
"Let's go file a spell patent!" Zorco popped out of nowhere, chipper as ever.
"Huh?" Aisha turned weakly, then suddenly jolted—rushing to hide her game screen.
Too late.
"No way... No way... You didn't stay up all night playing a 'what's-so-fun-about-it' game and still only score 648, right?"
She never imagined a fearsome dragon could sound this smug.
She wanted to punch him—but couldn't.
Maybe she should just rip up their contract. That way she wouldn't have to understand his smug dragon-speak anymore.
Ugh. She wanted to be angry—but didn't have the strength.
As her vision faded and her body went limp, she collapsed backward onto the bed. Within seconds, soft snoring filled the room.
Yes, it turns out even pretty girls snore.
Zorco scratched his chin, bemused. Who knew a simple game would have this much pull on Aisha?
Maybe he'd just played too many games back on Earth. Nothing surprised him anymore. He kinda missed those childhood days when flipping a few cards could be the most exciting thing in the world.
Still... if this much buzz came from a prototype, he really needed to speed up development.
This world had yet to witness the true power of a 648 microtransaction system.
Also... he wondered if Silk Song was finally out on Earth.
Aisha slept till afternoon. When she woke, the first thing she did was reach for her game.
Zorco had to bribe her with two boxes of chocolate just to drag her to the Patent Office.
Twinspire City was the first place on the continent to implement a patent system.
Technically under the Sutton Kingdom's rule, it was de facto self-governing—a thriving center of commerce, magic, and science.
The Soren Mage Tower represented the pinnacle of defensive spells. Then there was the Lebin School of Magic—maybe not the strongest, but definitely the most diverse in its curriculum.
Pelenta, meanwhile, was the birthplace of steam technology. Scholars there had founded the Academy of Sciences—not as flashy as mages, but their inventions arguably improved daily life even more.
New inventions popped up every day here. Thus, the patent system was born.
It helped that academic freedom flourished. To the north were two nutcase nations: one where every invention belonged to the Emperor, and another where it all belonged to the Church—since progress was apparently "divine grace."
That said, the current system wasn't perfect. It only covered invention patents—nothing for design or utility. Meaning stuff like yo-yos didn't qualify for protection.
Fortunately, Zorco's toy store didn't rely on patents—it thrived thanks to the buzz from Blazing Blade Kings and super-cheap goblin mass production.
Inside the Patent Office.
"So this spell's function is...?"
"Play!" Aisha responded brightly.
"...Wow. How impressive." The gnome matron at the service window, thick glasses perched on her pointy ears, sounded absolutely monotone.
"Right? I thought so too!"
The matron adjusted her glasses, clearly realizing this girl couldn't detect sarcasm to save her life.
"Very well. Registering new zero-ring cantrip."
"But I think it should be a five-ring spell. Four at least."
"Excuse me?"
The woman's stern glare reminded Aisha of her terrifying fifty-year-old childhood teacher. That woman still haunted her nightmares.
"Zero-ring is fine..."
"Spell owner?"
"Zorco."
The matron filled it in without hesitation.
Aisha blinked. Wait—she'd prepared a whole speech to argue that part!
"Um... You don't have any... questions about that?"
"Last week, someone listed 'Death' as the owner. Said he'd be rewarded in the afterlife. Frankly, I don't care what goes on in your heads."
"R-Right..."
It took them forty minutes to finish the monster of a form.
"Please line up outside Room 2."
They waited another half hour.
The person before them stormed out furiously, yelling, "Maintaining raw flavor in organ meat cooking counts as a patent, damn it! This whole place is trash!"
They stepped inside.
It looked... surprisingly normal. A very standard office.
Except the person behind the desk was wearing a paper bag on their head.
Aisha shot Zorco a nervous glance. She was starting to suspect everyone here was insane.
Suddenly, the man stood up and dramatically yanked off the bag.
"SURPRISE!!"
A bald, brownish-red-skinned elder stood before them—clearly from one of the western islands across the strait.
Zorco glanced at Aisha, silently agreeing with her suspicions.
Awkward silence blanketed the room.
Eventually, the old man broke it.
"You're not surprised?"
"Um... Am I supposed to be?" Aisha asked hesitantly, worried he might go feral and bite someone. Could Zorco stop him in time?
"You mean... you don't recognize me?"
"Should I?"
"I am the Guardian of Twinspire City! King of Defensive Magic! Red Dragon Slayer! Legend of Greatwood Island! Honorary Professor at Lebin Spellcaster Academy! Demonblood Hunter! The Great—!"
He struck a dramatic pose, clearly waiting for Aisha to finish his sentence with his name.
...
No response.
After ten painful seconds of silence, the old man sighed and slammed the table.
"Soren Ambrosius!"