Episode 4. I Did as You Asked
“So what are you, really?”
Binaeril sat perched on the nightstand beside the bed and asked the old book, its mouth flapping.
In the space left behind by excitement and exhilaration, an equal measure of doubt had settled.
“Me? I am Veritas, also known as the Book of Truth.”
“No, no. I’ve heard that enough to be sick of it. So I mean, what are you really?”
“I told you. I’m a book.”
“You’re not just an ordinary book!”
The moment they left the grand hall of the library where they had met, Veritas had transformed into the form of a book.
Had the boy he saw that day been an illusion? After spending a few days together, talking and flying around with a book had become somewhat familiar.
“Not an ordinary book? You’re right about that. I am the chronicle of all history, the great encyclopedia of all existing magic. The diary of every researcher who left records, and the very sum of all knowledge. I am the very…”
“Cut it out. Strip away all the useless rhetoric, and you’re a book of barely one page.”
“I lost the rest.”
There were a few things Binaeril had learned over the days spent with Veritas.
For one, this thing was incredibly shameless. He had no idea where it got its confidence from, but it was a book with an extraordinary sense of self-love.
Second, it was extremely talkative. It kept speaking inwardly so that others couldn’t hear, but from the perspective of the one on the receiving end, it was nothing short of torture.
“Let me say it again. I fulfilled my end of the contract. Now it’s your turn.”
The Book of Truth had asked him to recover its lost pages.
The problem was that even it didn’t know the exact locations of those fragments.
“I lost the page where I wrote down the locations, too.”
“Then how am I supposed to find them?”
“You’ll know when you get close.”
It was truly a hopeless book.
“Aha. So you’re telling me to find all the pages when you don’t know where they are or how many there are?”
“Surely you wouldn’t be that shameless.”
“Then?”
“There are fewer than ten lost pages. That much of what I said is roughly true.”
In the end, it meant the whereabouts of the lost pages were unknown.
‘Should I just toss him?’
“Tsk, tsk. Impudent. How impudent.”
Perhaps because of the previous synchronization, the thing could read Binaeril’s thoughts freely. His senses, emotions, and thoughts, all of them.
He had lost his privacy as punishment for picking up some random book.
“It’s not much of a trade-off, but there is compensation.”
“??”
“I am the crystallization of living mana. You, a mere hatchling, think you broke the Cube with your own strength?”
“Then?”
“I lent you my power.”
“You’re saying you supported me with mana?”
“Exactly.”
Mana was spiritual power exhausted through magic. It was a concept similar to stamina.
Just as physical activity required stamina, higher-tier incantations required powerful mana.
No wonder Binaeril hadn’t felt much fatigue despite casting a destructive spell of that magnitude.
If Veritas was telling the truth, Binaeril now possessed a competitive edge that no one else could compare to.
“Then how much mana do you have?”
“I don’t have that much yet. I lost most of it. At best, it’s about the amount a 3rd Tier mage handles?”
But even with sufficient mana, he wouldn’t be able to wield higher-tier magic instantly.
Just as high-intensity exercise required technique as well as stamina, Binaeril still lacked the necessary experience.
“The more pages you recover, the more of my lost mana I’ll regain. And then the power I can lend you will increase as well.”
This was an unexpected reward. Veritas often left out the most important information when speaking like this.
Binaeril recalled the abilities Veritas had shown in the Great Library.
The boy who had wielded magic-like power as naturally as breathing.
Could he become like that too? If so…
“You might even be able to take revenge on your brother.”
“Don’t read my mind.”
Whenever Binaeril thought of his brother, he always sank into a sticky sense of displeasure.
Along with a sensation of feverish heat rising, as if fiery flowers were blooming all over his body.
“The first goal of our contract is to escape this cramped Magic Tower.”
“…Fine.”
The conversation, which had been running on parallel lines, finally felt like it had found the right direction.
“To do that, I need to pass the Scala exam first.”
“I know that.”
The Scala was a kind of graduation exam.
Students who met certain qualifications received recommendations to take the Scala exam, and if they passed, they became certified mages recognized by Elfenbein.
The problem was that this Scala exam, held by the semester, had fewer than thirty passers per semester.
“I’ll try my best, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll take.”
“No. It won’t take long. I guarantee it.”
Veritas said so and let out an ominous, low laugh.
Seeing that, Binaeril couldn’t help but worry that he had picked up some kind of cursed grimoire.
Binaeril was immediately transferred to senior classes.
New classes, a new curriculum, a new dormitory, even an exclusive dining hall.
Elfenbein was known to divide talented students from untalented ones as cleanly as a razor’s edge.
While classes for junior students focused on awakening theory and talent,
the regular classes taken by senior students taught proper magic.
Binaeril began to make his presence known in the regular classes he had entered for the first time in three years.
“The element that most influences the form of magic is the caster’s imagination. You could say the world is a canvas, and you are painters holding brushes.”
The lecturer, Aviya Flinn, demonstrated by blooming a milky-white flower made of ice with a simple incantation. The exquisitely transmuted elemental magic was no less than a work of art.
She knew well how to motivate her students.
The girls’ eyes sparkled, and the class’s concentration rose.
“It’s beautiful…”
Aviya smiled with satisfaction at the soft exclamation and drew closer to the students.
“And one way to strengthen this imagination is to recall vivid images.”
1st Tier mages, who had only just taken their first steps, could barely manifest elements close to nature. Utilizing them through transmutation was the next level.
“The more concrete, delicate, and detailed your imaginations are, the more distinct a form the magic takes. Now, it’s time for practice. Try manifesting an element that comes easily to mind.”
Most seniors, even if they could use magic, were at a level where they could produce a small flame or create a droplet of water.
The classroom was soon filled with colorful elements.
Squirming mud, transparent droplets, flickering flames, gently swaying wind, and the like floated softly.
Aviya walked around the classroom, grading and evaluating each student individually.
“Gillian, well done, but it’s too small.”
“Gupil, don’t make such a disheartened face just because it’s not working well. Try a little harder.”
Then, there was a magic that drew every student’s gaze into one.
Aviya Flinn checked her attendance sheet once more to confirm the name of the new student.
“Binaeril Dalhaim?”
What Binaeril had created was but a single snowflake.
A complex and delicate snowflake emanating a faint chill.
Looking at the translucent ice crystal reflecting light, even Aviya felt a momentary sense of fascination.
Soon regaining her senses, she expressed her honest impression.
“They say magic reflects the heart. It seems you’ve bloomed a snowflake as pure and beautiful as your soul. Truly well done.”
It was nothing short of the highest praise. Aviya brought her hand to her mouth and let out a heartfelt exclamation.
Amidst the murmuring students, Binaeril simply nodded and replied in a dry voice.
“Thank you, Professor.”
“What is important in actual combat is not how accurately you manifest the magic you imagine. Discard all fancy and complex concepts! Simple and fast magic is unconditionally effective.”
At Professor Blansho’s impassioned speech, the students found themselves nodding without realizing it.
Pierre Blansho was a professor known for his extensive experience slaying magical beasts at Elfenbein, a so-called combat pragmatist.
“Quick casting and powerful might—for these, above all else, a mage needs an iron will!”
His teaching style was considerably more passionate and combative compared to the refined and static classes of Aviya Flinn.
He lined up training dummies and explained to the students.
“Achieve maximum effect with minimum cost. This is a golden rule you must always treasure on the battlefield, where you’ll constantly cross the threshold between life and death.”
Pierre aimed at the heads of the dummies lined up in a row and extended his finger.
“Arrow of Piercing Mana!”
Arrow-like beams of light shattered the heads of the solid dummies and pierced straight through.
Pierre’s magic collided with the training ground wall, causing a thunderous noise.
The dummies’ heads were blown apart as if struck by a cannon.
It was a 1st Tier piercing spell that fired a condensed arrow of energy.
Of course, its power was incomparable to anything the students could produce.
“Wow…!”
The boys’ eyes sparkled, and gazes of admiration poured toward Pierre.
“You try it as well. You may use the same spell, or apply it differently. Who will go first!”
One excited boy raised his hand and stepped forward.
Pierre positioned him in the center and arranged the dummies in a line.
“Subdue the enemies as quickly and effectively as you can.”
The boy pressed his palms together and shouted the trigger phrase.
“Arrow of Piercing Lightning!”
An application of the piercing spell. He was more skilled than expected.
“Hoo.”
A strange light flickered in Pierre’s eyes.
The lightning beam that shot out destroyed two dummies before finally being stopped by the third.
“Hmm. Well done.”
Pierre Blansho was not one to hand out praise easily. The boy smiled in relief.
“Next, who… You there! Step forward.”
Pierre pointed directly at Binaeril and called him out. It was his intention to test the transfer student’s skills.
“You try it.”
He set up the dummies as before, folded his arms, and stepped back.
“As quickly and effectively as possible, you say?”
“That’s right.”
Binaeril widened his eyes. Pierre Blansho was like a veteran who had spent long years on the battlefield.
Would simply increasing the power be the answer he wanted?
Binaeril made his decision and slightly opened his palm, raising it above his head.
The heart germinates miracles, imagination manifests them, and incantation completes the magic.
Binaeril had found the fastest and most effective solution.
He muttered the incantation under his breath so that the students couldn’t understand.
Pop!
“Ack!”
A scream burst out among the watching students.
Pierre frowned slightly.
It was because Binaeril, the center of everyone’s attention, had suddenly unleashed a burst of light without warning.
Naturally, the dummies were without a scratch.
“What are you doing!”
“I did as I was told.”
“Isn’t the fastest and most effective subjugation exactly this?”
Binaeril’s solution was to rob the enemies of their sight.
Pierre lost his words at his unexpected answer.
Pierre, who had been trying to find fault, grudgingly acknowledged his answer.
“…That is a good method. Return to your seat.”
The instructors in charge of the classes recorded the highest score on the grade sheet of this late transfer student, unwillingly, yet with no other choice.
The name of Binaeril Dalhaim, previously known only among the juniors, gradually spread among others.
But where there is light, there is shadow.
“Why is the transfer student showing off like this?”
Separate from the faculty’s evaluation of Binaeril, there were clear gazes of envy directed at him.
Yet Binaeril Dalhaim knew nothing of this, simply devoting himself to his own growth.