Group Assignment. (1)
A massive moon scattered faint mist across the night sky of the Yuren Duchy, where clusters of stars twinkled brightly beside it.
Maho lay curled up like a shrimp on her bed, lost in thought.
About the events of today—no, about her life up to this point.
"I survived, sis, bro. Longer than you two..."
From a young age, Maho had an intense obsession with life.
Because she instinctively knew her own death was coming.
The Leok royal family was always a frozen battlefield swept by icy winds. Every son and daughter of the king brimmed with ambition, and the king took pride in their disastrous temperaments.
The catastrophe was obvious as daylight.
To survive, Maho chose escape. She fled the kingdom and stayed in the capital. To change her fated end, she saved money, desperately showed acts that could win knights' loyalty, and ultimately survived.
She wanted to live, so she did.
"But... acting?"
Deculein's words telling her to quit the act.
Maho pouted and sat up in bed.
Of course, she had intended to make them like her. Any human would instinctively try to save a child crawling into a well.
Pretending to be a child wasn't entirely wrong.
But the gratitude and appreciation she felt in the process were genuine.
She was truly thankful to Sharlot, Ron, Geder, and today's Deculein—not a hair's breadth of falsehood.
"...How did he know?"
Still, she wondered.
No one in the empire had seen through her like that. No one had pierced her so deeply. They saw her only as a pitiful, worthless royal hostage trapped in the capital by her kingdom.
"In that short time..."
Professor Deculein had seen through her. He grasped her hidden motivations and chose the perfect word: acting.
Was that the caliber expected of the head professor of the Imperial University Tower?
"It's amazing. So amazing."
A mask she'd worn for over a decade, exposed in an instant. It felt like being stripped naked.
"Sigh..."
Maho sighed and sat at her desk. Her gaze lingered on the paper in the corner.
A letter of thanks and gratitude.
It should be fine to send something like this to the professor, she thought, picking up her pencil.
To the Professor,
Early morning in Hadekan.
Ganesha was eating breakfast at a restaurant with her three kids.
Nom nom—nom nom—
Having just finished an 18-hour training session, not only Leo and Karos but even the usually mature Lia had lost all composure, devouring their food. Their wild, hungry beast-like grabbing with hands was adorable.
"Phew..."
"All done?"
"Yeah. Ah, now I can live..."
Lia sighed like some adult, rubbing her belly. Leo and Karos slumped against their chair backs.
Ganesha smiled faintly.
"Today's training was pretty tough, right? But at this rate, you could take the adventurer exam this year."
"Really?!"
Leo's eyes widened. Lia looked shocked too.
"This year?"
"Yep~ Adventurers have no age limit, so the sooner the better. The exam shouldn't be hard if you keep growing like this."
The Adventurer's Guild prioritizes ability above all.
Whether five, eight, or eighty, if you have the will to take the exam and the talent and skill to pass, they grant the qualification to anyone.
It's what comes after that's crucial.
Adventurers can specialize in a 'field of expertise' or focus on 'missions' for money. But forging your own path is key.
Adventurers without achievements or flair won't pass the 'renewal review' held every three years, three times total.
"All done? Let's go."
"Yeah!"
"Yeeep~"
The four rose. As they left the restaurant, Karos and Leo bickered over who ate faster or more, and Lia covered their mouths.
They arrived at [Hadekan Station].
"Whoa... all wizards."
Leo marveled.
The station was full of robed figures. Debutantes from the tower returning from their MT.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Ganesha spotted a man amid the crowd.
A selfishly tall, slender frame and dazzling, jewel-like looks. A suit of impeccable dignity, allowing no flaws.
Head Professor Deculein.
"Kids, come here."
On a hunch, Ganesha hid the children behind her.
But Lia kept peeking around, her huge doe eyes glued to Deculein.
"Lia?"
"Yeah? What, Ganesha?"
"...Nothing."
Ganesha chuckled.
That face fooled kids and adults alike.
No wonder—such a cold visage paired with that unique noble aura was unparalleled on the continent.
There were plenty of handsome men in the world, but Deculein's singular charisma was exceedingly rare. An adventurer who'd wandered the globe could vouch for it.
Then.
Deculein, standing still, twisted his gaze. Straight toward her.
Caught off-guard in eye contact, Ganesha gave a wry smile.
He lowered his head slightly. Ganesha cleverly shifted to block Lia. But Lia pouted first, peeking with her right eye.
Push—!
Someone shoved Ganesha's back. She startled and turned.
"Oh, sorry."
A female mage, face still hazy from drink, bowed.
"It's fine."
Ganesha glanced back, but Deculein had vanished.
"Um, aren't you Adventurer Ganesha?"
The mage who'd bumped her asked. Ganesha sized her up. Enough to gauge her talent.
Very promising aura.
"Yes. That's me."
"Ah, I thought so! I'm, uh, a fan. I read your book too."
"Oh? Thanks."
"Yeah, so... could I maybe get an autograph?"
"Sure. Name?"
"Ifrin Luna, tower debutante—"
"Ifrin Luna?"
Lia suddenly cut in.
Lia stared at Ifrin with wide eyes. Ifrin, searching for a pen, tilted her head.
"Uh, yeah. You know me?"
"Nope. But I'm Lia."
Lia offered her hand first. Ifrin shook it awkwardly.
"Uh, hi, nice to meet you."
"I'm Ganesha's master's disciple."
Ganesha found Lia's reaction curious.
She wasn't the type to approach first. No mages in the southern islands?
"Really? Lucky~ You look young, but impressive."
"Not as young as I look. Oh, and these two are Leo and Karos."
"Nice to meet you, mage sis!"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you too. But..."
"I'm Karos."
"...Huh? Oh, uh-huh. Sure..."
The curious Leo and Karos chatted Ifrin up endlessly, so she never got Ganesha's autograph before the train left.
Train Departing — No time for autographs!
Back at the capital mansion, I immediately resumed my routine.
├─ Tier 1:Basic object manipulation ✓
└─ Proficiency:99% — NEARLY MASTERED ★
I raised Basic Telekinesis's proficiency to 99% and trained my body.
Up to here, same routine... but I sat in my chair and opened Wizard Academic.
I pondered the pages of magic problems.
Which to pick.
Which gives the most mana.
Scanning, the 'Millennium' section caught my eye.
"Millennium..."
The magic world had seven Millennium problems.
Modeled after modern math's seven riddles—impossible to even comprehend with just 4,000 elne mana.
I looked lower: 'Symposium' level.
"Challenge the Symposium to claim honor as a mage. Not only prize money, but perhaps enlightenment awaits. Hurry! Countless wizards on the floating islands are already solving it."
⟨ Symposium Challenge ⟩
Symposium had 11 problems total, solved 1-2 yearly, replaced with new ones.
Well-known enough—solving would yield hefty mana.
Worth a shot.
I eyed problem 6 of 11.
[6. An ancient inscription bears the following formula alongside a Rune. In the past, Runes served as circuits too. Infer this ancient formula.]
Ancient inscription.
At first, just stared. Soon, my heart raced. A sudden 'idea' excited me.
...I knew this Rune language.
As game designer, I polished its font myself.
I vaguely recalled each character's meaning and structure.
Though distant memory, Understanding vividly revived even fragments.
I glared at the inscription with my trait's eyes.
A needle-like pain stabbed my nape. The Rune seared into my retinas like a branding iron.
The inscription's Runes fused with memory, forming a formula.
I gripped the pen. Pulled paper with telekinesis.
My hand moved on its own. Pen too.
No personal thought.
All ego focused on the problem. Trait consumed my flesh.
A true trance.
The paper filled with an unknown formula.
Runes engraved, mana infused.
Mana drain less severe than expected.
Since I 'already knew' this Rune language...
...So absorbed,
How much time passed?
Snapping to, desk covered in paper. Neatly stacked in corner, dozens of pages.
Mana nearly depleted.
"..."
I pressed my temple, sighed.
Only then realized two hours gone.
Felt like three minutes.
"Two weeks to solve."
For a moment, felt like Einstein.
Saturday noon, I arrived at the tower.
But the atmosphere was off. Subtle tension among passing professors.
"Allen. Come."
I called via crystal orb. Allen arrived in under ten seconds.
"Yes! Here!"
"What's going on lately? Seems chaotic."
"Ah, probably the imperial announcement."
"Announcement?"
"Yes. Seeking knights, mages, scholars to assist His Majesty's tutelage."
I understood instantly.
Imperial tradition: For the first year after ascension, the emperor learns from outsiders. An unwritten rule passed down ages.
Of course professors would covet it.
"You're the top candidate, Professor!"
"Me?"
"Not... right?"
Allen flinched.
"Pay it no mind. No desire either. Class prep first, Allen."
"Ah, y-yes, yeees. As expected of you, Professor."
"Fetch records of recent mana disasters. Video if possible."
Saturday today, Wednesday next week—time to alternate prep and Symposium.
"Mana disasters..."
"Any will do."
Mana disasters akin to modern tsunamis, typhoons—caused by 'natural mana' only.
"Yes!"
Allen returned in ten minutes with a basket of crystal orbs.
"Here!"
"Good work."
I infused mana. Instantly—Whiiiir—! Mana storm raged.
Of course, illusion.
"Ack!"
Allen crouched, trembling. I watched intently.
Lightning flashing in storm. Flames jetting from wind grains. Water streams shaping specifically.
All Pure Elements.
In other words, a goldmine.
"...Beautiful."
"Yeees?"
This lecture inspired by magic fireworks.
Like fireworks embroidering the sky, couldn't mana disasters be expressed as magic formulas too?
That mindset.
Next Wednesday, students would adopt it.
Fresh May.
Sylvia strolled the campus. Summer trees and flowers bloomed vibrantly; the university landscape vivid as a painting.
Today, Wednesday.
Her steps quickened toward the tower unconsciously.
Long-awaited class. Midterms ended, then emperor's death, succession—about four weeks without lectures.
Sylvia entered the tower, elevator to third floor, opened A-Class room.
"Sylvia. Nice to see you."
"Beautiful as ever~"
Nobles greeted warmly; commoners dared not meet eyes. Sylvia's heels clicked to her seat.
Then Ifrin entered.
"Ipi~ Here, here~"
"Ah, yeah."
Sylvia narrowed eyes at Ifrin. Recalling MT's arrogance, she bristled.
A dimwit like you applying under Professor Deculein?
Ridiculous.
Can't grasp basics, get shredded dozens times daily, cry home—why not learn under Rellin or others?
...Time passed.
Professor Deculein arrived precisely at 3 PM, with assistant.
"Greetings."
First words unchanged. Sylvia neatly arranged notebook and pen.
"First, exam and assignment grades. Allen?"
"Yes."
Assistant Allen placed slim grade sheets. Mages tensed; Sylvia anxious inwardly but soon relieved.
Perfect score.
"Today's lecture is group class, with group assignment."
"...?"
All shocked at Deculein's words.
Tower had MTs, drinks—mages got along, but fundamentally lone wolves.
Group assignments rare.
"Reason simple. Impossible alone."
Atmosphere darkened ominously. Even Sylvia chilled.
"Today's theme: Pure Elements and Mana Disasters."
Snap—!
Deculein snapped fingers. Room darkened; storm illusion filled it.
Kiiiiing—!
Blade-like whirlwind. Mages startled, flinching.
"Mana disasters strike occasionally. Mana storms, fire rain, dust storms, frost quakes... But consider: aren't they ultimately Pure Elements?"
Diligent students grasped it.
"If so, this mana storm can be formalized."
Snap—!
Storm subsided.
"Behold."
Deculein radiated mana. Complex formula drew in air.
Dozens circles, hundreds lines—coiling like dragons, stretching serpentine. Mana storm 'phenomenon' as Pure Element 'schema'.
"Mana storms formalizable thus."
Exquisite, grand—his near-five-day masterpiece on mana disaster formula.
Mages gaped at the exemplar.
"Mana disasters: clear fusion of Pure Elements. Natural mana clumps, links, probabilistically born. I want you to grasp the core."
Casual tone.
"No need for such scale. I don't demand it. Even tiny mana disaster, if fully formalized, realizing possibility suffices."
Tiny enlightenment.
His words persuasive.
Seemed impossibly hard, headache-inducing.
Yet formula's majesty magnetic.
"You have time. Understand these magically as formulas, see world clearer. Believe: magic learned from nature is Pure Elements."
Finished, he prepared classic lots.
Five per group, thirty groups.
"Draw lots in turn. Groups listed."
150 drew sequentially.
Noble-commoner mixes, commoner-commoner.
...Five minutes later.
Mages grouped. Well-mixed, no strife—atmosphere fine.
Except one.
"..."
"..."
Silence in one spot. Five gathered, but two silenced all. They stared, lips sealed.
Sylvia and Ifrin.
Teamed together.