Surviving as a Mage in a Magic Academy

Bad feelings always had a way of coming true.

After turning down the several suggestions Professor Voladi had finally produced after much thought—among them methods involving ambushing the juniors on sight, blinding them, or knocking them unconscious—Lee Han regretted it inwardly.

I should’ve asked another professor!

“Professor. I would like to choose the most peaceful method possible.”

“Why?”

“…Because I don’t want to be remembered among the first-years for some strange rumor. And I also don’t want them taking revenge when they become second-years.”

“Hmm.”

Professor Voladi found it odd, inwardly, that someone at Lee Han’s level would even need to care if first-years rushed him, but did not bother saying it aloud.

There was never any harm in being cautious.

As a battle mage, reducing the enemy’s numbers was a good strategy.

“What I want is, well… some kind of fast invisibility spell, or a spell that detects it when first-years approach. Something like that, Professor.”

“But that would be too easy.”

“…It pains me, but I suppose I’ll just have to endure it. A person has to learn spells like that sometimes.”

Lee Han had no idea why the word too had to be attached in front of easy, or why it had to be preceded by but.

And he was too scared to ask.

Professor Voladi nodded, respecting Lee Han’s wishes.

“Understood.”

“Thank you.”

“You know about incantationless magic, I assume.”

At Professor Voladi suddenly bringing up one of the highest-difficulty magical techniques, Lee Han was appalled.

In magic, the process of chanting an incantation was an essential step that firmly bound a mage’s will together and focused it into magic.

Even if a spell used neither gestures nor reagents, there was almost no such thing as magic cast without an incantation.

That was how central this seemingly simple act of chanting was to the Empire’s present magical system.

Is he telling me to go die?

This kind of incantation was not something you could omit just to save time. For a mage’s own safety, doing such a thing was taboo.

If magic could be cast by a mage’s will alone without an incantation, then the mere act of dreaming or having one’s emotions run wild could trigger spells.

In fact, one of the magical accidents that appeared regularly in the Empire’s newspapers involved mages who had practiced incantationless magic poorly and ended up summoning monsters or devils from other dimensions.

To cast magic without an incantation, one’s control over oneself had to reach an extraordinary level, otherwise it was impossible…

“That’s impossible!”

“I know. It’s dangerous, so do not try it in secret.”

“……”

Lee Han was genuinely impressed by Professor Voladi’s ability to make people even angrier.

To think he could make people more irritated than last year.

Unaware that his disciple was cursing him inwardly, Professor Voladi continued his careful warning.

“What you should train is incantation shortening.”

Incantation shortening, also called abbreviation, was exactly what it sounded like: a technique for compressing an incantation into a much shorter form.

It was far safer than incantationless magic, but it consumed vastly more concentration and mana than ordinary spell chanting.

Fortunately, in Lee Han’s case, mana was not a problem.

“Wait. What about concentration?”

A person’s mental stamina was not infinite. No matter how much mana remained, if concentration failed, the spell would not be cast. More often, the mage simply collapsed first.

Professor Voladi misunderstood the meaning of Lee Han’s question and answered accordingly.

“It will be fine.”

“……”

Lee Han, who had been asking whether there was any way to protect his concentration or recover his mind, stared at the professor as if dumbfounded.

What exactly was supposed to be fine?

“Along with incantation shortening, you should also train magic storage.”

Magic storage.

Simply put, every method of storing magic in advance fell under that category.

Spell scrolls counted too, primitive as they were. After all, they involved storing magic in the scroll and then activating it just by tearing it.

However, because each spell scroll cost quite a bit to make and also took up space, battle mages did not favor them.

Skilled battle mages instead drew magical designs on their skin with magic pigment and consumed them in battle, or else stored magic inside cloaks or objects.

Spirits and summons, if they could be persuaded, also made good storage media…

It’s rational, at least.

There was nothing logically wrong with what Professor Voladi was saying.

If Lee Han did not want to beat first-years up or knock them unconscious, then he should cast invisibility magic faster.

And if he kept it loaded in advance, he would be able to respond much more quickly.

“What method do you use for storage, Professor?”

“The forearm.”

From the elbow to the wrist. Since it was the part of the body most easily accessible to the mage, it was also a good place to store magic in advance.

Professor Voladi rolled up his sleeve and showed several spells drawn on his wrist. They were too complex and powerful to grasp at a glance.

“They are spells that activate the instant I am attacked. In order: <Bagreg’s Retaliation>, <Random Transfer>. And this one I cannot tell you.”

Lee Han found it strange that the professor said he could not reveal the third spell.

“Is it that dangerous a spell?”

“It is a spell that attacks anyone who learns what it is.”

“!”

Battle mages who moved about the battlefield were objects of terror, but also targets for elimination.

A mage’s power lay in the spells called forth, while the mage themself was still only a mortal being made of flesh and blood.

Because of that, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ it was better to keep a certain number of a mage’s spells hidden.

Even Lee Han had spells he deliberately held back for later consequences when he beat up the White Tiger Tower students.

But a spell that attacked you merely for learning its nature?

Do you have to go that far to make a name for yourself as a battle mage?

Professor Voladi took Lee Han’s shock for curiosity and encouraged his disciple.

“You may have a chance to learn it someday.”

“Yes… well… Wait, Professor. If I happened to learn that spell by accident, then wouldn’t seeing it mean I’d recognize what it is?”

“That’s true.”

“Then that spell would attack me, wouldn’t it?”

Professor Voladi nodded. Lee Han cursed inwardly.

Is this person insane?

This was basically the same as wishing him dead someday.

After that round of silent abuse ended, Professor Voladi explained in detail how to draw magic onto the skin and store it there.

A third-circle spell, <Low-Grade Magic Storage>.

It was a spell that stored two spells of one’s own circle or lower.

Originally, this spell drew rather deeply on the principles of enchantment magic, which made it harder to cast than other spells of the same circle.

The more principles from different schools of magic one used in combination, the more difficult the spell became.

However, Professor Voladi knew very well what level Lee Han had reached under Professor Verdus, and so did not bother mentioning that.

Sure enough, Lee Han consumed a few sets of reagents while drawing the spell, then immediately got the hang of it.

“Is this right, Professor?”

“It is. You are doing well.”

“Is the difficulty low, by any chance?”

Instead of answering, Professor Voladi smiled faintly, like a bead of dawn dew. Lee Han interpreted the meaning of that smile as kindness.

So it really is an easy spell.

But what came next was not easy after all.

He had inscribed the spell perfectly, but every time he activated it, some strange deviation occurred.

“?”

Lee Han wondered whether even a third-circle spell was still not something he could master easily, no matter how low its difficulty was.

Professor Voladi, who had been watching from beside him, opened his mouth.

“There are many crests.”

“Pardon?”

“There are many crests left by powerful beings.”

Whether they were spirit crests or the crests of other beings, such markings naturally possessed power.

And the stronger the being that had engraved the crest, the stronger the power in that crest became as well.

A mage like Lee Han, who had embedded the crests of great spirits like Perkuntra and Upinum into his wrist, had no choice but to suffer deviations when drawing magic over them.

“I never even thought of that.”

“Most people do not have that many.”

“…Is there no way around it?”

“Calculate the deviation.”

“……”

At Professor Voladi’s answer—which, in short, amounted to just do it better—Lee Han held back a frown and asked again.

“Isn’t there an easier method?”

“Move the location upward.”

It was such a simple and good method that Lee Han wondered why he had not thought of it himself. He nodded.

“That sounds best. Then—”

“Here.”

Professor Voladi pointed with his staff to the crook of the arm, between the upper arm and the forearm.

Lee Han answered with an embarrassed expression.

“There’s a Firebird crest there, so it overlaps.”

The professor moved the staff farther up, toward the upper arm. Lee Han answered with an even more embarrassed expression than before.

“There’s Professor Verdus’s crest there…”

“……”

*****

—Wardanaz. Since the new semester began, it has been quite a while since we’ve been unable to meet. We belong to different towers and are not exactly on good terms, but even so, we cannot deny that we respect one another as mages. If you have any intention of meeting briefly to catch up and exchange information, come to the place where all of us gathered last time.

Salco Tutanta

“It’s not a trap, right?”

“Salco is exactly the kind of bastard who’d set a trap… but it probably isn’t, right?”

Lee Han spoke as he moved together with his Blue Dragon Tower friends.

The truth was, not only Lee Han but all of the friends from his own tower felt the same need.

They had only just become second-years, yet information was already pouring down on them like a flood.

If it had been last year, they would have met comfortably and exchanged information, but this year even that was difficult.

—If those bastards from White Tiger Tower attack you, tell me. I’ll retaliate for you.

—Thank you, senior.

—It’s nothing. This much is only natural for a senior.

—In that case, could I have a piece of the bread you’re eating, senior?

—A-are you insane? How can you say something so rude?

The Blue Dragon Tower seniors were not people who showed themselves often, nor were they especially kind, but when it came to fights with other towers, they were extremely proactive.

There had even been incidents like this.

—Oh. That’s Anglago. Waving over there.

—That bastard dares make a mocking gesture at my junior?!

—Uh, senior. Anglago was just waving.

—Then you must have seen it wrong. Bastards from White Tiger Tower never just wave. He must’ve raised his middle finger where you couldn’t see it!

Once things got to that point, it was true that openly gathering together felt a little awkward from the juniors’ perspective.

There was a reason Salco had suggested they meet in the second-floor storehouse where they had gathered last year.

Together with his friends, Lee Han checked the surroundings, entered the second-floor storehouse, confirmed the basement door, and headed down.

It was a place that still held the memory of last year, when they dealt with the teleportation statue and attempted a grand escape to the Skull Principal’s villa.

“Wardanaz!”

“Wardanaz, is it true you joined every single club? Really?”

“……”

At the question the students from the other towers asked the instant they met him, Lee Han made a bitter expression.

They already had faces that said, If it’s Wardanaz, maybe he really did.

“…It’s true.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s not like Wardanaz has two bodies!”

“Would even two be enough?”

“Everyone, come over here. Stop bunching up over there!”

Salco’s rough voice rang out.

Lee Han walked farther inside.

Then he saw that most of the second-year students from each tower had already gathered there, chatting among themselves.

“Moradi. Good to see you.”

“Yeah. Good to see you.”

“…Uh, what, did you eat something bad?”

“Hey. Switch sea—”

Giselle rose in irritation. But then, after thinking about it, if Giselle switched seats, the person on the other side would be Salco.

Salco openly growled with a look that said to get lost.

“…On second thought, Wardanaz is better. Sit down.”

“Can’t I just sit somewhere else?”

Thinking it would be noisy if he sat between the two of them, Lee Han asked, but Salco and Giselle each grabbed one of his arms and forcibly sat him down in the seat.