Surviving as a Mage in a Magic Academy

Unaware of how miserable the senior was feeling, the heartless junior asked his question.

—By the way, Senior. There’s something I want to ask about spell development and fifth-circle magic.

Lee Han explained what had happened earlier.

The insane duplicate had cursed him out, telling him to learn fifth-circle magic, and then suddenly ordered him to create a telekinetic shield spell.

Of course, that telekinetic shield spell itself might have been a fifth-circle spell.

But every choice a great mage made carried meaning, even in the smallest things.

Even if it was insane, it was still a great mage. Lee Han couldn’t afford to ignore that.

Why, out of all the countless fifth-circle spells, had the insane duplicate told him to create a telekinetic shield spell?

—You cast a telekinetic shield spell without an incantation??

—Senior. That’s not the important part right now. If I don’t get this done within a day, I’m in serious trouble.

—…R-right.

Diret had been about to write, If that’s not important, then what is?, but Lee Han’s reply snapped Diret back to reality.

Lee Han was right. That wasn’t the important part right now.

A second-year junior had cast a telekinetic shield spell that he hadn’t even learned, and had done it without an incantation, but that wasn’t such an amazing—

I need to ask about that later.

Unable to let it go, Diret wrote himself a note.

No matter how he thought about it, it was too astonishing to ignore.

—I know what the insane duplicate is thinking.

—You do?!

Lee Han had asked the question, but when the senior answered immediately, he was genuinely startled.

Do fifth-years stop being students and start becoming great mages instead?!

—Generally speaking, fifth-circle magic is where the difficulty takes a pretty big jump. That’s also where people start entering Lesser World magic… Junior, do you know what a magic parrot is?

—What’s that? Some kind of rare animal?

—Hmm. So you haven’t heard it yet.

“Magic parrot” was one of the things students usually started hearing from the Skull Principal around their third year.

—Are you a mage or a magic parrot?! A mage should think and cast for themselves! If all you can do is memorize the spells you were taught like a parrot, then you’ve got no right to call yourself a mage!

So it wasn’t a rare animal.

Lee Han felt a flicker of disappointment at Diret’s explanation.

He had briefly wondered whether there was some kind of parrot that helped with magic…

—Below fourth-circle, you can get by just using the spells you learned and memorized. But from fifth-circle onward… you have to understand them.

—I’m not sure I follow, Senior. Even spells below fourth-circle still require understanding, don’t they?

—They do. But that understanding isn’t complete understanding. Junior, why is it that a mage who has learned <Fire Arrow> still can’t cast <Fire Spear>? Or <Fire Shield>, or <Fire Whip>, or <Fire Wall>?

Lee Han was startled by Diret’s words.

It was true.

If the fundamental principle was similar, then the moment a mage learned <Fire Arrow>, that mage should also be able to cast <Fire Spear>.

And yet Lee Han and his friends couldn’t do that.

Why not?

—Because in the end, even if you understand fragments, you still lack complete understanding of the whole. The Principal calls the insight needed for that sudden enlightenment, but that part doesn’t matter right now. Anyway, once you reach that kind of complete understanding, then even if it’s only within a very narrow domain, a mage can cast magic in that domain almost however they want. Like I said earlier, even if they’ve never learned or researched <Fire Shield> and the other variants, they can still cast them on the spot.

Lesser World!

Instinctively, Lee Han remembered what the Skull Principal had said.

Hadn’t the man tormented people endlessly, saying they had to learn fifth-circle magic in order to grasp Lesser World?

Hearing Diret explain it, Lee Han finally understood why the two were connected.

To learn fifth-circle magic, you needed a far deeper understanding than before, and that understanding became the foundation for stepping toward Lesser World.

If a person wanted to reshape the world according to their will, how vast would that understanding need to be?

—So that’s why you have to learn fifth-circle spells even to begin entering Lesser World magic!

—Junior. That’s true, but… Lesser World isn’t what matters right now. Your life’s on the line, and you’re getting distracted by some other kind of magic?

—…My [N O V E L I G H T] apologies.

Lee Han apologized at Diret’s rebuke.

Come to think of it, Lesser World really wasn’t the important issue right now.

—So, Junior. If we judge based on you, what area do you think would be the easiest one for that kind of understanding?

—I’d guess either water-element form transformation or lightning-element form transformation. I’ve really tried all sorts of things with the water element, and with lightning I’m still lacking, but I’ve gotten fairly—

—Actually, I was going to say telekinesis.

Diret looked faintly embarrassed by the junior’s answer.

To be fair, neither Diret nor the insane duplicate had been wrong.

For one thing, telekinesis suited Lee Han well, with the amount of mana he possessed.

Out of all the different elements, it consumed the most mana in pure raw usage.

There was a reason mages usually chose methods other than telekinesis when casting more complex spells.

And since it had to be cast using nothing but the mage’s own mind, without borrowing the power of the other elements overflowing through nature, it demanded not only enormous mana but also far greater difficulty.

But for certain people, those drawbacks could become advantages.

A mage who didn’t rely on delicate control, but instead poured out vast quantities of mana and wielded it recklessly…

If Lee Han had unconsciously called forth a telekinetic shield, then it meant telekinesis was already deeply ingrained in him.

I guess all that abuse last year did this to him.

Diret remembered the magical training the junior had gone through the previous year.

In particular, Diret found it hard not to suspect that the training from a certain professor with only one disciple had indirectly contributed to that internalization as well.

—Telekinesis?

—You cast it immediately without an incantation.

—Ah. Right. Then maybe telekinesis, not water or lightning, was what I was really suited for all along?

—…Maybe so…

Telekinesis wasn’t something people had “affinity” for in the same way they did for water or lightning, but Diret agreed anyway, wanting to encourage the junior.

—Anyway, Junior. If it told you to create a telekinetic shield spell, then I think it means it wants you to gain a broad understanding of telekinesis.

Right now, the telekinetic spell Lee Han used most often was no more than <Low-Grade Control>.

But what if he researched the shield spell he had unconsciously cast this time, and came to completely understand the area connected to that spell, even if only narrowly?

That would be no different from learning not just a single fifth-circle spell, but more than a dozen lower-rank spells along with it.

—I understand, Senior. Then what I need to understand here is…

—First… incantationless casting. When it comes to telekinesis, you need to be able to cast it without an incantation.

—Incantationless…

—And compression.

—Compression?

—Not just summoning telekinetic force with mana and concentration, but layering telekinetic force over itself and strengthening it. That’s how you increase the output freely.

To impose more than a certain level of weight or impact with telekinesis, you had to understand the property of compression as well.

Since Lee Han had dug so obsessively into rotation when learning the water element, this wasn’t entirely new territory.

—Compression… But Senior, how do you know the principle of compression was part of my shield spell?

—Because if you’re going to block that level of attack using nothing but telekinesis, compression is mandatory. Next comes form transformation, obviously. I don’t need to explain that one, right?

—Right.

—Multi-control.

—Why multi-control?

—Because you cast it instantly. If all your focus had to stay on a single shield, you couldn’t do that. To pull up the shield while also doing something else, you’d need to split your awareness at the same time.

—Multi-control…

As Lee Han organized his thoughts, he cursed his past self.

Why had he unconsciously used such a ridiculously complicated spell instead of just taking the hit?

Still, at least I’ve already tried a fair number of these things before.

Diret continued sorting out several other points after that.

—…That’s about the rough outline, Junior.

—Yes?

—No, forget it. You’ll manage. Ask if there’s anything you don’t know.

—Thank you. I’ll do it.

Diret closed the artifact and immediately started preparing to send a paper bird to Princess Yukbeltire.

No matter how he thought about it, there was absolutely no way Lee Han could pull this off in a single day.

*****

Palcrius of the Kitchen Club was climbing the mountains with the juniors in tow.

Palcrius usually smiled a lot, but today only stared into the distance with a deep frown.

“This is bad.”

“Why do you say that, Senior?”

“There’s magic spread all over the place.”

They had not even approached closely yet, and already several peaks were radiating powerful magical presences.

This was not the sort of thing giants or mountain-range-destroying sheep could produce.

Something far stronger had clearly descended upon Einroguard.

“…Come to think of it, I did hear a rumor.”

“What rumor?”

“That the Skull Principal’s insane duplicate is roaming around Einroguard.”

“Hmm!”

Palcrius fell into thought with a cautious expression.

Einroguard was full of nonsense rumors, but every so often, a few of them turned out to contain the truth.

And the magic Palcrius could feel from those mountain peaks made that rumor seem disturbingly plausible.

“That can’t be it, right?”

“Puhuhu. That’s not the Principal’s insane duplicate. At most, it’s probably some monster that crossed over from another dimension.”

“Whew. If it’s only that much…”

The Kitchen Club students relaxed slightly.

Monsters from other dimensions were frightening too, but compared to the Skull Principal’s insane duplicate, they felt vastly preferable.

If we’re going to rescue him, we need to do it fast.

Palcrius thought to himself.

If it really was the insane duplicate, they had to get Lee Han out as quickly as possible.

The other juniors were full of determination right now, but Palcrius was not confident they would keep that resolve once they actually laid eyes on it.

…But what in the world had Wardanaz been doing to get kidnapped by the Skull Principal’s insane duplicate in the first place?

—What brings students here?

“!!!”

The Kitchen Club students nearly jumped out of their skins at the voice booming down from overhead.

There were not many beings who could address them like that.

“A giant!”

“Lord Ikurusha, we have no intention of stealing any sheep, or any milk or cheese. We’ve brought tribute, so please forgive us!”

Like the experienced senior he was, Palcrius quickly offered up the tribute they had brought and pulled back with the juniors.

Ikurusha was one of the more reasonable giants, but a giant was still a giant.

If the mood soured or temper flared, they would need to run at once.

—Tribute… Hmm… This is acceptable. It’s rare for students to climb this high. What brings you here?

“One of our juniors got lost, so we came to look.”

—That is unfortunate.

Ikurusha clicked the tongue with a thunderous sound.

—You have my sympathies. I’ll accept the gift gladly.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Senior. Shouldn’t we ask whether the giant has seen Wardanaz?”

“No. If we make contact for no reason, we may only provoke anger.”

—Wardanaz?

“!”

Palcrius tensed.

Ikurusha, who had seemed ready to leave, stopped and showed interest instead.

“Is there some problem, Lord Ikurusha?”

—I thought I heard the name Wardanaz.

“That is the junior who got lost.”

—Is that true?!

Ikurusha sounded shocked.

And the Kitchen Club members were just as shocked.

Why is that reaction so strong?

I have no idea…

“Yes. Then, if you’ll excuse us, may we continue searching?”

—No. Wait a moment.

“……”

Palcrius began considering whether he would need to subdue the giant in front of him.

The direction this was taking felt very wrong.

BWOOOOOOO—

Ikurusha blew the horn hanging around the neck in one long blast.

A moment later, the sound of heaven and earth trembling rolled in from the distance as giants came swarming over with mountain-range-destroying sheep in tow.

“……”

“……”

The Kitchen Club students were on the verge of collapsing from fear and tension. Palcrius, meanwhile, was thrown off because none of this made any sense.

Are the giants preparing for some kind of feast?

—That human boy has gone missing.

—Wardanaz! Wardanaz got lost in the mountains!!

—We have to rescue him quickly! He might starve to death!

—Not likely… no. Right. He might starve to death, so hurry and find him.

At Ikurusha’s words, tears welled in the corners of the giants’ eyes.

—Find him quickly!

—You there, mage! Help!

“Pardon? Yes! Yes, of course!!”