Many things change when Celestia appears.
When the girl appears, the blowing wind stops, and even the rustling of leaves falls silent.
Even the insignificant creatures—birds and insects—hold their breath.
Instead, a faint breeze unlike the usual begins to blow.
Since magic is the power that dwells in all things that exist in the world, if one were to explain the phenomenon occurring now, it would have to be explained like this:
Celestia is an existence capable of affecting her surroundings simply by being there.
“I still haven’t talked with you.”
The wind was still only strong enough to tickle my cheek, but seeing how heavily the air in the area had settled, anyone who wasn’t unbelievably dense would be able to tell.
I could no longer avoid her.
Fine. I had to admit what needed to be admitted.
I had challenged this game countless times, seen multiple endings, and argued fiercely about it in the community dozens of times, but the world I was in now had changed greatly from the one I knew.
If Lowell’s setting had changed, and the circumstances surrounding him had changed, then it wouldn’t be particularly strange for his relationship with Celestia to change as well.
Then I had to confirm it.
How much this world had changed from the one I knew, and how much it still matched.
“What kind of conversation do you want to have?”
“I’ve decided not to enter the Department of Magic.”
“…Huh?”
It seemed I was fucked.
It was a conclusion I could reach without any need for deep consideration.
I was fucked.
I had no idea where things had gone wrong, or how tangled they had become.
Originally, at this point, Celestia was someone who had almost no connection with the protagonist, an existence whose name was only occasionally heard in rumors as the top student of the entire year who had entered the Department of Magic.
But now, for some reason, Celestia and I had formed a connection, and she was even saying she wouldn’t choose the Department of Magic.
For her, a genius mage and spirit master, not to advance into the Department of Magic made no sense by common standards, but it also meant that the events that were supposed to happen in the future might not happen.
In short, it meant that the plot in which Celestia fell into darkness for some reason and became the final boss of Act 1 might effectively fail to come about.
Of course, that didn’t mean I wanted Celestia to become the final boss.
No matter how many times I played, there had been no way to stop Celestia once she had fallen into darkness, and the only way to end her rampage was to defeat her.
But I did not know this world well.
The scenery before my eyes and the people I met were exactly like the world of the game I had seen beyond the monitor, but the interactions within it had changed in many ways.
I had no idea where things had gone wrong or how tangled they would become, but one thing was certain.
“…You’re a genius mage. Why did you make that decision?”
If I didn’t know, I had to find out.
“I want to go to the same department as you.”
I truly couldn’t understand a single thing.
###
“May all the talented people of the world teach and learn from one another, and grow, and grow again.”
The founder of Magicka Academy established the academy on the vast island called Asteria so that his will could be carried out without being hindered by anything.
The soaring spires and the massive stone structures stretching along the cliffs looked almost like an enormous castle.
The will that had continued for many long years remained intact in the grand panorama this academy displayed.
And this enormous academy was not a space only for students.
It was also a space for professors who bore the mission of teaching students while discovering new things in their own fields of study and correcting the mistakes of the past.
The privileges and support Magicka Academy granted to its professors were, in a word, tremendous.
In the faculty building, permanent professional staff were stationed to handle not only the costs necessary for research, but also spacious laboratories, meals, laundry, and medical care, all so that professors could focus solely on their research.
In many ways, it was a place ill-suited to Lowell von Adrian, the academy’s problem child, but he had no choice but to come here.
In order to fulfill Celestia’s request, he eventually had to make his way to the far end of this dusty faculty building.
The place Lowell arrived at was a dark corner of a corridor that appeared the moment the proper marble walls came to an end, like some forgotten archive.
This place, seemingly untouched even by the academy’s tremendous support, was the laboratory of Glayton, the professor of Elemental Studies.
“Excuse me.”
When Lowell carefully opened the door, a woman lifted her head beyond a desk crowded with all kinds of reagent bottles, along with acrid smoke.
Because Elemental Studies had only just risen to the ranks of a formal academic discipline, despite being a full professor affiliated with the academy, she had been assigned a room converted from a storage room instead of a proper laboratory.
“Student Lowell, you’ve come…”
Professor Glayton stared intently at Lowell from behind her glasses.
In truth, she had called Lowell to her laboratory several days ago, but after hearing nothing from him, she had become deeply hurt.
To the point that she had lost sleep at night, wondering, “Is he ignoring me because the subject I teach is non-mainstream?”
But Glayton, like the intellectual she was, did not show it.
Instead, she tidied her disheveled hair and, maintaining a perfect poker face, spoke to him in a gentle voice.
“Actually… I lost sleep thinking about what you said, Student Lowell.”
Unlike the calmness she usually displayed when teaching students during lectures, her voice could not hide her excitement.
As if welcoming an honored guest, Glayton carefully wiped a teacup with trembling hands and set it before Lowell.
“Now, please sit here. The room may be small and shabby, but this tea is the best I have. I’ve been saving it since a few days ago to serve you when you came, Student Lowell, so please don’t feel burdened and drink it. Just the fact that you came is enough for me…”
Just as Glayton, overcome with emotion as though she had met a savior, was about to pour the tea, Lowell calmly threw out the main point.
“Professor, Celestia says she intends to apply to the Department of Elemental Studies.”
Crash—!
A sharp shattering sound filled the narrow laboratory.
The teacup that had slipped from Glayton’s hand struck the floor and smashed mercilessly to pieces.
The composure and dignity of a professor she had maintained until moments ago had vanished without a trace.
“…Pardon? Who did you just say?”
Glayton approached as if she might grab Lowell by the collar, not even noticing that the tea had soaked her shoes and the hem of her clothes.
“Are you serious right now? That Celestia, the top student of the second year, wishes to enter not anywhere else but this shabby laboratory of mine… no, our Department of Elemental Studies?”
Her green eyes shook violently with shock, joy, and disbelieving suspicion.
“Yes. And I also intend to apply to the Department of Elemental Studies.”
“…A-are you… serious? You’re not teasing me right now, are you?”
Professor Glayton paid no attention to the fragments of the teacup scattered across the floor.
She gripped Lowell’s shoulders tightly and asked with an expression as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
The fact that Celestia, the top student of the year, intended to apply to the Department of Elemental Studies was, for a professor of a non-mainstream department driven to the verge of being abolished and praying every night, nothing less than an oasis discovered in the desert.
“Why on earth would Student Celestia…? No, why would she use that genius talent of hers in a storage room like this? For what reason? Don’t tell me she pitied me and threw me a sympathy vote? Or was there pressure from the academy?!”
Unable to hide her excitement, Glayton rambled on and shook Lowell.
She still maintained her usual gentle honorific speech, but her eyes had already half abandoned reason.
Then, suddenly, she stared once more at Lowell standing before her.
The fact that Celestia was coming was certainly a joyous thing, but Lowell, who had previously shown interest in Elemental Studies, was also a student Glayton desperately wanted.
She drew in a trembling breath, barely managed to let go of Lowell’s shoulders, and, while smoothing her disheveled collar, asked,
“No, no. I should set another day aside to hear about Student Celestia separately. But Student Lowell. What about you? Why on earth are you applying to the Department of Elemental Studies?”
For an instant, Lowell’s expression subtly stiffened.
He had not thought the question would go this far.
He had not expected Professor Glayton’s reaction to be this intense, nor had he expected the arrow of the question to return to him so quickly.
Lowell remained silent for a moment and organized his thoughts.
The stale laboratory air mixed with the smell of mold, and the professor’s desperate gaze fixed only on his lips, her face flushed with emotion.
It did not seem like an excuse such as simply following the top student would work.
After a brief silence, Lowell slowly opened his mouth.
“The reason is simple, Professor.”
Lowell’s voice had become lower and more solemn than before.
“Unlike the existing Department of Magic, the Department of Elemental Studies has a future.”
“A future, you say?”
Glayton’s green eyes widened greatly in shock.
To her, whose self-esteem had hit rock bottom after becoming accustomed to pity and disdain rather than praise, the word future was more unfamiliar and struck her heart more powerfully than any high-level magic spell.
“Magic as it exists now pursues stability rather than possibility.”
“It defines something that only a talented few can monopolize as a characteristic of magic, and prevents those judged to be even slightly lacking from daring to challenge it. But Elemental Studies is not like that. Elemental Studies is open to everyone.”
At Lowell’s answer, filled with conviction, Glayton gazed at him in a daze.
Tears she could no longer hold back began to gather at the corners of her eyes.
It was the first time since she had begun her life as a professor that the field of study to which she had devoted her entire life had been called the future.