······A night in the Duchy of Yuren, where a great moon scattered a pale mist, and beside it clusters of stars rose in dense array.
Maho lay curled on the bed like a shrimp, lost in thought.
About what had happened today—no, about the life that had brought her to this day.
“I survived, sisters, brothers… longer than all of you······.”
Ever since she was young, Maho had clung fiercely to life.
It was because, by instinct, she had known of her own death.
The Leok royal family had always been thin ice swept by cutting winds. Every son and daughter of the king was filled with ambition, and the king, rather than condemning their disastrous natures, took pride in them.
The ruin was as clear as day.
To live, Maho chose flight. She left the kingdom and stayed in the imperial capital. To change the ending called death, she gathered money, desperately committed acts that might win the loyalty of knights, and in the end, she survived.
Because she desired life, she survived.
“But… to call it acting······.”
Deculein’s words, telling her to stop acting now.
Maho pouted and sat up from the bed.
Of course, it was true that she had intended to make them feel goodwill toward her. After all, humans by nature possessed the instinct to save a child crawling into a well.
It was not entirely wrong to say she had acted like a child.
However, the gratitude and thankfulness that Maho herself had felt throughout that process had been sincere.
Toward Charlotte, toward Ron, toward Geder, and toward Deculein today—she was grateful without the slightest shred of falsehood.
“······How did he know?”
Still, she was curious.
No one in the Empire had ever understood her that way. No one had seen that deeply through her. They had merely thought of her as a pitiable and worthless royal, held in the imperial capital as the kingdom’s hostage.
“In such a short time······.”
Professor Deculein had seen through her. He had grasped the intimate principles behind her behavior, and chosen the precise word: “acting.”
Was that much necessary to be the Head Professor of the Imperial Magic Tower?
“How strange, how strange.”
It was a mask she had maintained for over a dozen years in her own way, yet it had been seen through in an instant. She felt as though she had been stripped bare.
“Huuu······.”
Maho let out a sigh and sat at her desk. Then she stared quietly at the paper placed at the corner.
A letter conveying her gratitude and thanks.
Thinking that much, at least, should be all right to send to the professor, she took up her pencil.
* * *
Early morning in Hadekain.
Ganesha was eating with the three children in the dining hall.
Munch, munch— munch, munch—
As eighteen hours of training had only just ended, Leo and Carlos, of course, but even Lia, who had always seemed mature, lost her dignity(?) and focused on the food. The sight of them picking up this and that with their hands like starving wild beasts was adorable.
“Fuuah······.”
“Are you done eating?”
“Yes. Ah, now I feel alive······.”
Lia sighed like an adult and rubbed her belly. Leo and Carlos also leaned back against their chairs.
Ganesha smiled faintly.
“Today’s training was quite difficult, you know? Even so, at this level, you could take the adventurer exam this year.”
“Really?!”
Leo’s eyes widened. Lia also asked back with a startled expression.
“This year?”
“Of course~ Adventurers have no age limit, so the sooner you obtain the qualification, the better. If you keep growing like this, the adventurer exam probably won’t be difficult for you.”
The Adventurers’ Guild placed ability above all else.
Whether one was five, eight, or eighty years old, if they had the will to take the exam and the talent and skill to pass it, the Guild would grant anyone the “adventurer qualification.”
If anything, what mattered began after obtaining that qualification.
An adventurer could set a “specialized field” and devote themselves in that direction, or they could focus on “missions” and concentrate on earning money. Whatever the case, it was important to pioneer one’s own path.
An adventurer without achievements or distinguishing traits would not pass the “renewal review,” which was conducted three times at three-year intervals.
“If you’re done eating, shall we go now?”
“Yeah!”
“Yes~”
The four of them rose from their seats. Even as Carlos and Leo left the dining hall, they bickered over who had eaten faster and who had eaten more, and Lia covered both of their mouths.
In that manner, they arrived at [ Hadekain Station ].
“Wow······. They’re all mages.”
Leo marveled.
The station was filled with people in robes. They were the Magic Tower’s debutants returning after finishing their MT.
“Hmm?”
Suddenly, Ganesha spotted a certain man among the crowd.
A tall, long-limbed figure so unfair it seemed selfish, and looks as radiant as jewels. A dignified suit that allowed not the slightest flaw.
Head Professor Deculein.
“Children, come here.”
Just in case, Ganesha hid the children behind her back.
But Lia kept craning her head to look that way. Her large eyes, like a young deer’s, clung fast to Deculein.
“Lia?”
“Hm? What is it, Ganesha?”
“······It’s nothing.”
Ganesha chuckled.
As expected, children and adults alike were all deceived by that face.
Well, the uniquely aristocratic air laid over such a cold appearance was unrivaled even on the continent.
There were countless handsome men in the world, but a unique individuality like Deculein’s was extremely rare. That was the conclusion of an adventurer who had wandered the entire world, so it could be trusted.
It was then.
Deculein, who had been standing still, shifted his gaze. Its direction was straight toward her.
Having suddenly met his eyes, Ganesha gave a wry smile.
He lowered his gaze a little further. Ganesha cleverly moved her body to block Lia. However, Lia stuck her face out first and looked at him with her right eye.
Thud—!
Someone pushed against Ganesha’s back. Startled, Ganesha turned around.
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
It was some female mage. With a face that looked not quite sober, the mage bowed her head.
“It’s all right.”
Ganesha said so and looked ahead again, but Deculein had vanished somewhere.
“Um, by any chance, aren’t you Adventurer Ganesha?”
The mage who had just bumped into her asked. Ganesha swept her gaze over the woman. With just that, she could discern a portion of her talent.
It was a very fine energy.
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Ah, I knew it. I’m, um, a fan. I read the book you wrote, too.”
“Oh, really? Thank you.”
“Yes, so, um······ could I get your autograph?”
“Of course. Your name?”
“I’m Epherene Luna, a Magic Tower debutan—”
“Epherene Luna?”
Lia suddenly cut in.
Lia stared at Epherene with eyes opened wide. Epherene, who had been looking for a pen, tilted her head and asked back.
“Uh-huh. Do you know me?”
“No. But I’m Lia.”
Lia extended her hand first. Epherene, bewildered, accepted the handshake.
“Uh, yes, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Master Ganesha’s disciple.”
Ganesha found Lia’s reaction fascinating.
She wasn’t the kind of child to speak first like this. Was it because there were no mages in Dadohae?
“Really? I’m jealous~ You look young, but you’re amazing.”
“I’m not as young as I look. Oh, and these two are Leo and Carlos.”
“Nice to meet you, mage big sister!”
“Hm? Ah, yes. Right, right. Nice to meet you. But······.”
“I am called Carlos.”
“······Hm? Ah, uh-huh. Right······.”
To Leo and Carlos, who found a mage fascinating, Epherene was bombarded with all sorts of questions, and thanks to that, she failed to get Ganesha’s autograph until the train departed.
* * *
As soon as I returned to the mansion in the imperial capital, I immediately resumed my routine.
I raised the proficiency value of 「Elementary Psychokinesis」 to 「99%」 and trained my body.
Up to this point, it was the same daily schedule, but······ I sat in my chair and opened “Wizard Academic.”
I glared at the page filled with numerous magic problems and pondered.
Which problem should I choose?
Which problem would give me the most mana?
While roughly skimming through, a section titled “Millennium” caught my eye.
“Millennium, huh······.”
In the world of magic, there were seven difficult problems called the Millennium Problems.
They were modeled after the seven great mathematical problems of the modern age, but with mana only around 4,000, it would be impossible even to understand the problems.
I turned my eyes to the level below Millennium. They were problems of a grade called “Symposium.”
「 ······Challenge the Symposium and claim honor as a mage. Not only prize money, but perhaps some enlightenment may be obtained as well. Hurry! Countless mages of the Floating Island are already solving the problems. 」
There were eleven Symposium problems in total, but every year one or two were solved, and the vacancies left by solved problems were filled with new ones.
They were fairly well-known problems in their own right, so if I solved one, I could expect a large amount of mana.
They were worth challenging.
I looked at problem 6 among the eleven Symposium problems.
[ 6. Upon a certain ancient inscription, the following spell formula is engraved along with Runes. It is said that in the past, runic language also served the role of circuits. Infer this ancient spell formula. ]
An ancient inscription.
At first, I merely stared at it, but before long, my heart began to pound heavily. A certain thought that suddenly surfaced excited me.
······I know this runic language.
Because, as a game designer, I was the very person who refined the font for this runic language.
I had also heard in passing of the meanings contained in each character of the runic language, and of its structure.
Of course, that memory was from quite long ago, but 「Comprehension」 vividly revived even the smallest fragments inside my mind.
I glared at the ancient inscription with the eyes of my trait.
A pain arose in the nape of my neck as if an awl had pierced it. The runic language clung to my retinas as though seared on by a branding iron.
The runes of the inscription fused with the memories inside my head and formed a certain spell formula.
I took up my pen. With Psychokinesis, I drew out paper.
My hand moved on its own. The pen also moved on its own.
There were no personal thoughts of mine.
All of my self was simply focused on the problem. It was as if my trait had swallowed my body whole.
A literal state of no-self.
On the paper, spell formulas even I did not know were being recorded in full.
Runic letters were inscribed, and mana settled upon them.
The consumption of mana was not as severe as I had expected.
After all, this runic language was something I “already knew”······.
······And as I concentrated like that,
How much time had passed?
When I came to my senses, paper filled the desk. However, it was not scattered messily. Dozens of pages were stacked neatly at the corner of the desk.
My mana was already on the verge of exhaustion.
“······.”
I pressed my fingers to my temple and let out a sigh.
Only then did I realize that two hours had passed.
It had felt like merely three minutes.
“I can solve it in two weeks.”
For a brief moment, I felt like Einstein.
*
Saturday noon, I went to work at the Magic Tower.
However, the atmosphere inside the tower was rather unusual. Even among the professors I passed by, a subtle current was flowing.
“Allen. Come here.”
I called Allen through the crystal ball. Allen arrived in less than ten seconds.
“Yes. I’m here!”
“Has something happened lately? It seems somewhat unsettled.”
“Ah, I think it’s because the Imperial Family made an announcement.”
“An announcement?”
“Yes. It was an announcement seeking knights, mages, and scholars to assist with Her Majesty the Emperor’s instruction.”
I understood at once.
The emperor’s instruction was an imperial tradition. An unwritten rule passed down from ancient times: “For one year after the emperor’s accession, the emperor learns the world from outside personnel.”
Naturally, any professor would covet that position.
“They say you’re the most likely candidate, Professor!”
“Me, you say.”
“Are you······ not?”
Allen flinched and asked back.
“I have no interest. I do not particularly wish to do it, either. Preparing for class comes first, Allen.”
“Ah, yes, yes. As expected of you, Professor.”
“Bring me records of mana disasters that have occurred recently. It would be preferable if they were left as footage.”
Today was Saturday, and there was still some time until next Wednesday, so I intended to alternate between preparing for the lecture and solving the Symposium problem.
“By mana disasters, you mean······.”
“Anything will do.”
Mana disasters were phenomena similar to tsunamis or typhoons in the modern world. Their cause was simply “the mana of nature.”
“Yes!”
Allen went outside and returned in ten minutes with a basket. Inside that basket were several crystal orbs.
“Here they are!”
“Good work.”
I infused mana into the bead. At that instant—whoooooosh───! A storm of mana raged.
Of course, it was an illusion.
“Ah!”
Allen curled up and trembled, but I watched the phenomenon with wide, intent eyes.
Lightning flashing within the storm. Flames jetting from the currents of wind. Streams of water spreading in distinct shapes.
All of it was “pure elements.”
In other words, a gold mine.
“...Beautiful.”
“Pardon?”
This lesson had been inspired by magical fireworks.
Like the magical fireworks that embroidered the sky, perhaps this mana disaster, too, could ultimately be expressed through magical formulas.
That was the thought.
Starting next Wednesday, the students would come to share that thought as well.
* * *
A fresh May.
Sylvia walked across the campus. The summer trees and flowers were blooming with vitality, and the scenery of the university was as vivid as if painted with a brush.
Today was Wednesday.
Her legs moved in quick little steps of their own accord as she walked toward the Magic Tower.
It had been quite a while since the last class. Right after midterms ended, the Emperor’s passing, the succession ceremony, and so on had overlapped, leaving them without lectures for roughly four weeks.
Sylvia entered the Magic Tower, took the elevator up to the third floor, and opened the door to the A Class lecture hall.
“Miss Sylvia. Good to see you.”
“You’re beautiful again today~”
The nobles greeted her warmly, as if they knew her well, while the commoners did not dare even meet her eyes. Sylvia walked in with crisp, clicking steps and took her seat.
But in the very next moment, Epherene came in.
“Ephy~ Over here, over here~”
“Ah, yeah.”
Sylvia narrowed her eyes and glared at Epherene. After seeing that insolent behavior of hers at the retreat, she found her utterly displeasing.
A stupid girl like you, applying to serve under Professor Deculein?
Don’t make me laugh.
You won’t even understand what he’s saying. You’ll get torn apart dozens of times a day and go crying back to your hometown. Why don’t you just learn under Relin or Siare instead?
...As she thought that, the time came.
Professor Deculein appeared, as always, precisely at three in the afternoon. He was accompanied by the assistant professor.
“Good to see you.”
His first greeting was unchanged as well. Sylvia neatly arranged her notebook and pen.
“First, I will announce the grading results for the exam and assignment. Allen?”
“Yes.”
Assistant Professor Allen placed small, narrow grade sheets on each of their desks. The mages waited nervously, and Sylvia, too, was inwardly anxious, but she soon felt relieved.
It was a perfect score.
“And today’s lecture will be a group lesson, with a group assignment.”
“...?”
Everyone was surprised by Deculein’s words.
In truth, the Magic Tower did have retreats and drinking gatherings among mages, so they got along well enough, but fundamentally, mages had a strong awareness of themselves as “individuals.”
Therefore, group assignments were exceedingly rare.
“The reason for forming groups is simple. It is because the assignment is impossible to complete alone.”
At that moment, the atmosphere sank ominously. Even Sylvia felt a chill run down her spine.
“The topic of today’s lesson is ‘Pure Elements and Mana Disasters.’”
Snap—!
Deculein snapped his fingers. Then the lecture hall went dark, and the illusion of a certain storm filled the room.
Kiiiiiiing—!
A whirlwind lashed about like blades. The startled mages flinched.
“From time to time, mana disasters occur in this world. Mana storms, fire rain, earth squalls, frost earthquakes... However, consider this. Are those disasters not, in the end, pure elements as well?”
Deculein spoke. The mages who had been diligent in his classes until now understood what he meant.
“If so, then this mana storm, too, can be embodied as a formula.”
Snap—!
When he snapped his fingers again, the mana storm subsided.
“...Look.”
Deculein released his mana. His mana drew a complex formula in the air of the lecture hall.
Dozens of circles and hundreds of lines. All of it stretched its head out long like a dragon, as if forming a whirlwind. The “phenomenon” called a mana storm had been expressed through the “schema” called pure elements.
“A mana storm can be formulated in this way.”
A formula of a mana disaster, incomparably precise and magnificent, which even Deculein himself had taken nearly five days to complete.
Looking at that model, the mages stared blankly with their mouths open.
“A mana disaster is undoubtedly a combination of pure elements. It is the product of probability, created as mana naturally gathers, connects, and interlinks. I want you to grasp its core.”
He said it as if it were nothing.
“It does not need to be as massive as this formula. I do not expect that, either. Even if it is a very small mana disaster, if you can convert all of it into a formula—if you can realize that such a thing is possible—that will be enough.”
A very small realization.
Deculein’s words carried conviction.
It seemed tremendously difficult, and merely looking at it made their heads ache.
Yet the grandeur of that formula was filled with a certain allure that drew the mages in.
“You have been given ample time. If you understand these magical disasters as formulas, you will be able to see the world more clearly. Believe it. Magic learned from nature is, indeed, pure elements.”
Having finished speaking, Deculein prepared a classic drawing of lots.
There would be five people to a group, for a total of thirty groups.
“Each of you, come forward and draw a lot. Your group will be written on it.”
The 150 students rose in order and drew their lots.
There were combinations of nobles and commoners, and combinations of commoners and commoners.
...And about five minutes later.
The mages gathered into their respective groups. The atmosphere was not bad, as though the groups had been arranged well enough to avoid division or discord.
With the exception of a single group.
“......”
“......”
One place was filled with silence. Five people had gathered, but because of two of them, no one said a word. Those two people looked at each other and kept their mouths shut.
Sylvia and Epherene.
The two had ended up on the same team.