Exam. (2)
“Get down!”
Rellin bellowed. He was carrying on even more hysterically than Deculein. His flushed face looked ready to burst.
“Professor Rellin. Compose yourself.”
“Pardon? Ah… but that…”
Unable to stand it any longer, Deculein personally calmed Rellin. He then walked slowly to the spot facing Ifrin.
“…Is this allowed?”
Though she’d lost her temper and shouted it out, Ifrin now asked half in doubt, half in belief.
“I stated that anyone present could be designated as your opponent. I placed no restrictions on the choice.”
With that, Deculein stamped his cane against the stone floor. Thud! The resounding echo and shockwave tousled Ifrin’s hair.
“However, a suitably unfavorable condition is required. I shall not attack you. Should this cane leave the ground, it is your victory.”
“…Understood.”
Ifrin nodded and clenched her fists.
Deculein on the far side, and me standing before him.
My heart pounded wildly.
This was the moment I had longed for, desperately.
A scene I had once dreamed of, like a fantasy.
Huuuuh… After a deep breath, I first channeled mana into my bracelet.
“Begin.”
At Deculein’s words, a flow of wind enveloped my entire body.
High-speed enhancement. By embodying and assimilating the wind element, this too was an application of pure element magic.
To elaborate, many misunderstand it, but high-speed enhancement affects not only physical movement but also the speed of spellcasting. The gaps between shots in rapid fire become far more fluid.
“…”
With her pre-chant complete, Ifrin gathered mana in her bracelet.
Typical mage duels devolve into elemental clashes, each wielding the element best suited to them.
But Ifrin had no need for such tactics.
Because her affinity was not an element, but an object.
In other words, the ‘bracelet’ was her affinity.
Her bracelet served as a catalyst for spellcasting, allowing her to wield all four major elements without any degradation in performance or penalties.
“Hah!”
Ifrin unleashed flames. It was the intermediate pure element spell Firestorm. The Firestorm spread wildly, engulfing Deculein.
Deculein vanished, trapped in the scorching gale.
Ifrin added earth affinity to the blaze. More precisely, she scattered particles like coal to amplify the flames and generated high concentrations of oxygen within.
Whoosh!
Flames filled the arena.
The inferno ignited the magical combustible dust and oxygen, triggering chain oxidation and combustion. The result:
Dust explosion.
────!
A terrifying blast erupted. The initial surge ignited airborne dust, chaining dozens more explosions.
Boom!Kaboom!Wham!
Even Professor Rellin panicked at the apocalyptic sight. The blasts’ intensity and scale were visibly immense.
Ruuuuumble!
This was Ifrin’s mastered ultimate technique.
A bombardment spell combining three affinities to maximize the destructive power of the most volatile element, ‘fire.’
“…Haa.”
Mana spent, Ifrin panted as she eyed the spot.
Nearly the entire arena blazed. Acrid smoke choked her vision.
She felt no complacency like Did I get him? No foolish worry like Is he dead?
Because…
A chill wind blew, parting the fog.
Beyond it loomed a sphere of fire.
A shell of solid flame, like an egg’s casing.
Crackle… crackle…
Through the fissures shimmering like heat haze, Deculein appeared.
His blue eyes gleamed coldly amid the inferno. He gazed at her without a hint of agitation.
Deculein was utterly unscathed.
Exactly as expected.
Shiiiish!
Suddenly, the all-consuming flames guttered out. All thermal energy vanished in an instant, and Ifrin couldn’t even fathom why.
“…”
She bit her lip.
Then unleashed a barrage. Mana Mortar, firing mana in fluid projectile form.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
The simply launched mana bullets halted upon reaching Deculein’s range.
Their ownership had been seized.
Deculein didn’t even use them, simply dissipating them all.
He had promised not to attack.
“Ahh…”
Deculein merely watched.
Like indulging a child at play. Like instructing a dim-witted student.
In that case…
Ifrin condensed her magic.
Crackle!
But an error disrupted the manifestation. The spell she’d tried to invoke fizzled into mere sparks.
Ifrin realized the cause at once. Deculein’s mana interference.
Only then did he speak.
“Your spells have a tell.”
He could see magic with the naked eye.
But interpreting and dismantling a spell he’d directly observed, even briefly, via Understanding demanded extreme mana expenditure—nearly impossible.
“The larger the casting motion, the more pronounced the tell.”
Unless, of course, he’d already experienced that mage’s spells several times.
And if he knew their ‘tell’ for certain.
Mana cost plummeted exponentially.
In short—Understanding had now learned Ifrin’s spells. Thus, Deculein had instantly grasped the ‘core circuits’ of any magic she attempted.
“High-ranking mages conceal their tells. Nay, they have none at all.”
Deculein said, his tone like a gentle reprimand to a failed child.
Ifrin kept trying to form spells, pulling memorized ones to the fore.
But nothing manifested.
Just endless crackle-crackle, like something burning.
“You cannot cast before me.”
“…”
Ifrin ground her teeth. She abandoned spellcasting but not the fight itself.
One final option remained.
Deny him distance—time itself.
If I pierced straight through to close the gap? Released mana right in his face?
He’d have no time to dismantle or interfere.
She could do it.
Not an academy mage, Ifrin hadn’t neglected her body. Physical training and conditioning were among her hobbies.
“Hyaah!”
Thus, she charged. Her high-speed-enhanced body closed the distance in a flash, on the verge of unleashing magic—
Ifrin glimpsed a finger.
A middle finger curled in a circle.
As if to flick her…
Snap!
The pain was immense.
Charging Ifrin clutched her forehead and staggered back, collapsing to the stone.
“…However.”
Deculein’s voice came then.
He watched her from afar.
Ifrin looked at his face.
A smile graced his lips.
Clearer than before, more satisfied than ever.
A smile she’d never seen.
“Not bad.”
Utter praise.
Deculein was that pleased…
With the cane.
Oblivious to this, Ifrin stared blankly before flopping spread-eagled.
Did I… pass?
With that thought, she fainted. Her friends rushed in and carried her from the arena.
“Next.”
“P-Professor, the arena needs a moment—”
Rellin tried to say. It was wrecked; they needed a break—
Deculein restored it. With Telekinesis, he raised the earth; with synthesis and conversion, he forged new tiles.
Those tiles gleamed cleaner than before.
Not complex magic, but the speed and elegance astonished.
Aristocratic magic, truly.
“Next. Lucia.”
Class continued.
Yet in the mages’ minds, that duel replayed endlessly.
They saw Ifrin anew—and Deculein more so.
They truly grasped the top professor’s prestige: the man who halted a train with telekinesis.
Ifrin was an earthworm; Deculein, a tiger.
Their skills gaped that wide.
Monday the following week.
The first day of midterms.
…Mmm~ So that’s how it works?
…Yeah. Exactly.
Ifrin woke to voices in the clubroom, where she’d napped after her first exam. Stuck to the sofa like scorched rice, she peeked her head up.
“Ah, this was so confusing. Thanks a ton.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
It was Julia. With a handsome, affable senior.
Dating?
Ifrin wiped drool with a cleaning spell and sat up, tousled.
“Oh, Ipi. Awake? Senior knows you, right?”
Julia spoke; the senior turned.
“Of course. Who doesn’t? You challenged Professor Deculein.”
Drent, a Soda Rank senior who’d passed promotion last year. His refined looks, talent, lineage from a famed magical house, and humble nature made him popular among commoner mages.
“You’re her, right?”
“…Ah, yeah.”
“Ipi, I was asking Senior to check my Deculein assignment. Five days till deadline?”
“Huh? Oh. Exactly five…”
Scratching her head, Ifrin spotted her assignment stack on the desk.
I fell asleep writing that. Did he…?
Sensing her gaze, Drent smiled.
“Didn’t read it. Bad manners.”
“…Huh? Ah, haha, hahaha… Nah, it’s nothing special.”
Ifrin stowed it in her bag.
Can’t be careless. Sleeping three-four hours nightly for two weeks has me off.
Drent chuckled, offering his hand.
“Ifrin, want me to review yours?”
“Pardon?”
“Hand it over. I’ll check.”
She knew his reputation: a hexagonal mage mastering six schools evenly.
But Ifrin shook her head with a wry smile.
“No thanks. I’m good.”
“Eh? Come on, it’s fine. I just did Julia’s.”
“No, no. Mine’s not worth showing.”
Julia, watching uncomfortably, jumped up with an excuse.
“Oh! Almost four! We’ve got next exam—gotta go! Thanks, Senior!”
“Huh? Ah… yeah. Good luck~”
They left.
In the hall, Julia probed: “Drent Senior’s hot, right?”
Ifrin shook her head.
“Not really.”
“Why? What’s not?”
“Seems too nice to any girl.”
“Ah~ True. But he’s attending the thesis symposium too.”
“Symposium?”
“Yeah.”
A week post-midterms: debutantes promoted to Soda presented theses for tower professors’ evaluation.
To remain university tower mages, Ifrin and Julia must one day endure it.
Ifrin muttered.
“Jealous. We’re at least a year out?”
“Yep. Oh, Sylvia might in half.”
“…Why?”
“Takes tons of classes. Sundays off only? Magic-obsessed.”
The tower elevator arrived.
They pressed floors: Julia 4th, Ifrin 11th.
Ding.
Fourth floor first; Julia waved goodbye.
“I’m off! Good luck, Ipi!”
“You too. Ace it.”
Yawwwn…
As she yawned, ding—sixth floor doors opened.
Ifrin startled at the blonde mage before her.
Sylvia.
“…”
Sylvia boarded wordlessly.
They stood side by side.
“…”
Ifrin fidgeted first.
“Exam… go okay?”
“…”
Sylvia nodded.
Nothing more. Okay, fine.
Awkward, Ifrin scanned floor labels.
Her eyes caught: [77th Floor: Top Professor Deculein’s Office / Deculein Lab].
Ding. Doors opened.
Tenth floor.
Ifrin waved farewell, but as Sylvia exited, she hissed clearly.
“Don’t show off to the professor again. You’re lucky you didn’t die that day.”
“…?”
That languid, chilling voice lingered like an echo.
Ding.
Doors shut; Ifrin stared blankly, muttering.
“…What’s her deal?”
77th floor, Top Professor Deculein’s lab.
I analyzed the research paper.
Exams submitted, this was my sole remaining tower duty.
“This much…”
The paper’s hazy outline sharpened gradually.
The core idea was brilliant.
At first, endless talk of trees, fire, charcoal, pencils, diamonds confused me. But prolonged Understanding revealed it.
The concept tied to ‘carbon.’
Carbon’s potential was vast; formalize it, and a new school like ‘carbon arts’ could emerge.
Not wielding carbon directly, of course.
Rather, leveraging its unique properties—allotropes and near-infinite bonding—to imbue magic with immense flexibility and possibility.
But mastering it myself? Difficult.
Memorizing and manifesting spells from this required talent in nearly all affinities; otherwise, mana drain was prohibitive.
This divide between ‘spell invention’ and ‘practical acquisition’ was common.
Like modern science’s theorists versus experimentalists.
Even ‘Linnell,’ pillar of modern magical schools—combat-capable, yet his disciples wielded his destruction arts better.
No one faults Einstein for not experimenting himself.
“Insightful, but…”
In this science-poor world, Ifrin’s father discovered charcoal, pencils, and diamonds were the same element—and envisioned magical application.
“Abandoned midway?”
Only half complete. Errors aplenty, mostly intuition.
Typical mage papers: 70-80% intuition, 20-30% theory. Enough to comprehend and cast.
Anyway.
One mage suited this magic sprang to mind.
“…Ifrin.”
That brash mage from class. Wielding all four elements via bracelet catalyst.
Ifrin.
“…”
Yet doubts about her father grew.
I retrieved the pendant from my desk drawer’s corner.
Young Ifrin’s photo.
But why was the father’s face cropped?
Too peculiar to dismiss as ‘just how the photo is.’
“…”
After long scrutiny, I left the lab. Back in my office, I pulled a book.
Then.
A gaze pierced my awareness. I whirled.
“…?”
A hawk.
Perched on the tower windowsill, staring at me.
I stared back. It cocked its head, as if asking What’re you looking at? I tilted mine slightly in equal curiosity.
The hawk shuddered—flutter-flutter—like scolded, then fled hastily.
“A owned hawk.”
Well-groomed, oddly cute.
I drew the curtains.
…The empire’s west, Yukline territory’s coastal city ‘Lukan.’
Famed as an imperial resort for its eternal mild warmth, its harbor saw the ‘Red Garnet Adventure Team’ awaiting a ship.
“That one?”
Today, children arrived from the archipelago.
Ganesha shaded her eyes, pointing.
“Yes.”
Just one girl first. Her two relatives stayed behind.
“Ship’s slow.”
“Not impatient, are we, Leader?”
“Getting mouthy lately?”
“Just facts.”
As they bantered, the ship docked. The child disembarked.
Ganesha waved hands and twin-tails wildly.
“Here! Over here!”
Seeing her red hair flutter wing-like, the girl beamed.
“Ganesha, long time!”
Many archipelago kids, three with exceptional talent—but this one especially tugged Ganesha’s heart.
All precious, but this sore thumb.
“Lia~ Missed you?”
Lia was mature beyond years. Black hair, brown eyes.
Precocious, gifted, self-aware of her path and methods.
But that maturity meant no spoiling—which made her pitiable.
“Not that much—gah!”
Ganesha crushed her in a hug.
“Lia, missed you!”
“Ow, hurts! Child abuse, seriously…”
Her chubby cheeks poking out were adorably maddening.
“You’re legally not a kid post-birthday~”
“That’s not the point… ow, let go, you idiot…!”
Too mature, too cute.
“Leader. Let go. She said it hurts.”
“Let… goooo…”
“Ah, sorry.”
Ganesha released; Lia glared venomously.
“Seriously… total moron?”
“Sorry, sorry. Shall we? Treat you.”
“…To what?”
Watching this child’s growth—how far, how much—
Would remain a delightful hobby.