Reincarnated With A Summoning System

The trip to the garden has become much more lively after that promise. New skills are not so easy to find, especially for acolytes who never leave the temple compound until their training is finished. The Bunny Kin don’t like to fight, so they don’t do a lot of dungeons and therefore they don’t come across a lot of new things that aren’t already in the temple library.

The temple village is not all that remote, only a single day from the shore, but it is well away from the main road, Cain followed the Guardians straight through the woods to get here, and he didn’t see any roads leading out of town when they came in. There likely is one on the other side of the village, since it is clear that they have no fields here, so goods must be coming in, but it doesn’t seem to be a major route. For all Cain knows that could be intentional. Many temples are built in the mountains or other similarly hard-to-reach locations to preserve their isolation and sanctity.

The Garden is magnificent, with the flowers and herbs arranged by scent, to complement each other and give every section of the garden a distinct scent that will slowly shift as the seasons turn and the plants pass through their life cycle. Very fitting for a goddess of life.

“These white-flowered ones mark the beginning of the fruits section. Have you ever seen anything like it?” Their tiny tour guide asks.

“Actually, my hometown, Long Fang City, grows edible plants everywhere. Every home, all the ditches, the parks, even the lawns of the manor are all edible herbs and plants.” Cain explains.

The looks on their faces say that they are far more interested in a “City Made of Food” than the promised reward of a skill book, so Cain takes a seat on the grass, surrounded by children, and begins his retelling of how he arrived in Long Fang Valley, defending the farms from attackers, the design and layout of the town, the notable people he has met, and at their insistence, all about Misha. The story takes so long that the gardeners have come out to maintain the grounds by the time he is finished.

“Priestess, do you want to join in on our game? Duke Cain promised that he would make us a skill book and whoever won the guessing game could learn to make pictures on paper instantly from whatever they were looking at.” One of the acolytes invites the garden crew.

“Now, little Bun, a female Duke is called a Dutchess. Keep that in mind, you don’t want to be rude.” The priest that was sweeping the walkway explains.

“I am actually a Duke, I just have an ability that lets me transform. One of the acolytes happened to see it in a vision and recognized me when I entered the temple complex.” Cain explains, changing back into the large demonic form that he arrived in.

“Well, that is a new one. Even the system said that you were Bunny Kin.” The man mutters, coming over to sniff at and inspect Cain.

“He has the aura of the species that he is pretending to be and everything, it’s pretty awesome. But that is the game? How do we play? Is there a player limit?” Their pale-eared tour guide asks.

“There isn’t really a limit, but those who have a trade already can’t win, because they can’t use the book unless they are currently practicing artists, and the book will disappear not long after creation if it is not used.” Laura explains, landing on Cain’s shoulder.

That position is a bit unstable, and Laura wonders if Elmira was onto something with her Pocket Pixie traveling plan. Perhaps Cain would be willing to pad up a pocket in his suit for her to travel in?

“We will play, and if one of us wins we will give it to our personal acolyte.” The gardener informs them, and a few of the kids cheer.

“Alright, the rules are simple. I am going to make a Skill Book. You are going to guess how many words are in it. Once we have all the guesses I will begin. Whoever is closest will be the winner.” Cain explains.

That should keep the hyper creatures from getting bored while he writes a short novel with his Inscription skill. The skill means he doesn’t have to physically write every word, he only needs to pass his writing utensil over the page while focusing on what it should say. The whole process will take about ten minutes still, since the [Instant Art] Skill is B Ranked and the book will be close to an actual novel.

There is a lot of discussion about the books they have already seen, how long they are, and then how many words should fit on a page, then a heated discussion about Cain’s handwriting before any of them are ready to make their prediction.

“I bet twelve thousand and sixteen.” The tour guide announces, beginning the process.

One of the gardeners has helpfully brought out paper to keep track of the guesses since he knows how to identify everyone. The acolytes don’t seem to use names, even among each other, so Cain is having a terrible time trying to tell them apart, other than by appearance.

The guesses still have a pretty wide range, from six thousand to thirty thousand words, with the highest wagers deciding that such a useful skill must of course be a high-quality one, and therefore very long and hard to copy out into a skill book.

The older cleric trainees learn a wide variety of life skills, including inscription, so the process isn’t unknown to them, but the writing desk is a new one to them. The students are eager to get their hands on one, but finding out from the helpful Laura that it is a lost relic of the Spider Goddess defeats their plans to obtain an inscription desk of their own.

The clergy thinks it might be possible that the residents of New Muzz would still have them, but if they could make them, surely they would have told someone right? The Spider Goddess and the Great Bunny are good friends after all.

Cain begins writing as everyone watches. The first few minutes are not all that exciting, but once he reaches the one hundred and fifty-page mark and surpasses the lowest of the guesses do things start to heat up. Cain isn’t giving them any hints as to how much he has left to write, so all they can do is get excited and cheer for him to be done as he reaches their own wagers.

Cain reaches the final word and sets his pen down with a smile. “Twelve Thousand and Nine words.”

The tour guide cheers and begins bouncing on the spot. “I win, I win, only off by seven words.”

One of the gardeners laughs and picks her up to spin her around in the air. He had guessed the result to be exactly twelve thousand words, only off by a single word from a tie for victory.

“Now your path is set. You will be one of the Art Guides, making pictures for the pilgrims and faithful to take home with them.” The elder cleric declares and the little bunny’s droopy gray ears practically vibrate in excitement.

“It’s one of the best jobs in the temple. The artists are busy all day, so they don’t get assigned cleaning duty.” One of the other acolytes informs Cain quietly.

That makes sense. Everyone wants a keepsake, and with so many historical paintings and pieces of art in the building. Of course, they would want an image of something to take home. Then there are all the images of the Great Bunny that the faithful will ask for. It doesn’t seem like an idle profession, but perhaps one that is more enjoyable than cleaning floors and pulling weeds from the huge gardens and flower beds of the temple.