"Attack," Misunderstandings, and the Dawn Chant
"These days, do they use different expressions instead of the word 'attack'? What 'attack' means is... "
"No, I know what it means, so you don't have to explain!"
How could I not know? The term "gong-su" is something that comes up a lot in yuri stories. Yuri refers to the genre where girls date each other. Gong means the one who takes the active, leading role in the relationship, while su is the one who gets led.
There was only one reason Rune had suddenly asked who was attacking whom between us.
"Do you perhaps think we're dating?"
"It's not that I only think that. Even if you're not dating, you can still do everything couples do, right?"
"Huh?"
Her words left me so stunned I couldn't even get a proper sentence out. Rune really was open-minded in every way. Not just same-sex or interspecies relationships, but even casual hookups without commitment? For the brain of a 10-year-old kid like me, that was radical enough to cause internal damage just from hearing it.
In my mind, Rune had always been the image of a kind, gentle big sister. But now I had no choice but to revise that. She looked and acted like an angel on the surface, but deep down, she was a magic-obsessed professor with the most liberated mindset imaginable—a total uwajung enthusiast. Were there any normal elves in this village?
For now, I needed to clear up this misunderstanding with her once and for all.
"Actually, everything that's happened so far has just been a big misunderstanding."
"Is that so? Then explain those scenes I saw before."
The reason Rune thought we were dating boiled down to two incidents. If I laid out the full context, her misconception would clear right up.
"The thing in the room was all just coincidence..."
I started explaining everything that had happened to Rune so far. The first was when she'd accidentally seen Silleia covering my mouth with her hand. Or rather, shoving it right into my mouth. Her hand had been slathered in saliva, creating this super suggestive vibe.
The second was when she'd caught me leaning in with my lips pursed to blow on Silleia's forehead. Yeah, it totally looked like we were about to kiss.
Even as I explained the details to Rune, my face heated up without me realizing it.
"So yeah, it was all these perfectly timed coincidences that made it impossible not to misunderstand."
"Hearing it now, that does make sense. I never really got a chance to hear your side. So you two are just friends, then?"
Rune looked at me, her expression still holding a trace of doubt. No surprise there—insisting it was all coincidence would sound like a lame excuse to anyone. But what could I do? It was the truth. Dissipating this uwajung demon's suspicions completely would probably take time. For now, I'd just tell Silleia to be more careful about physical contact going forward.
"Well, we've reached the pond. Shall we start the magic practice?"
"Before the advice, should I demonstrate my magic first?"
How did I cast magic again? Right—I started by tapping the staff on the ground.
My magic relied entirely on borrowing the power of mana waves, after all.
Thud thud.
"Hold on, Seha. What does that action mean?"
"It's to vibrate the mana before casting, obviously."
"You've been casting magic that way every time until now?"
Rune clutched her head and sighed at my answer.
"I should've talked about magic basics before the theory lecture. For now, try casting it into the open air like we planned."
"Just moderate the power, right?"
"No—let's fix that bad habit and test your limits while we're at it. Go all out. Don't worry about the aftermath; I'm right here."
Rune knew I used fire magic, at least. Even if it spread, a mage of her caliber could handle it easily. Trusting her, I opened my mana to its maximum.
First, sync my mana to the mana waves.
Then infuse it with intent and manifest.
"Hmm... Unlike what I expected, the magic isn't coming out."
I had perfect control over the mana waves and my own mana, but the actual spell wouldn't activate. I had a hunch why.
Every time I'd cast before, there had been intense emotions tied to it. The first time at the inn, it was an image of unleashing all my built-up stress. When I developed new magic in front of everyone, it was about forgetting my old self and starting fresh.
But right now? Nothing special. At best, frustration from how tough magic study with Rune was getting. Emotions that weak wouldn't generate enough firepower to trigger a spell.
Was I really going to fail to show magic in front of Rune and just end it like this?
At that moment, Rune approached silently right up behind me. Her left hand on my shoulder, right hand over mine on the staff. Then she brought her mouth to my ear and whispered softly.
"Seha, relax your body first and calm down."
Her voice tickled my ear like ASMR. Well, duh—it was right next to me; comparing it to ASMR was silly.
Did she not realize how tense and jittery her closeness was making me? Ignoring my state, she continued.
"Remember the sensation from when you cast magic before. Now, condense that into words or a phrase."
Condense it? I'd already named a spell once. Dawn of Ashes. But I didn't think naming it held that much meaning.
"That sensation is just a fleeting memory inside you. It's hard to recall something that evaporates so quickly. But the moment you put it into words, everything changes. You can think of it as re-engraving a concept you've already defined."
A concept I'd defined? Jeonghyeon Yeo had said something similar during his lecture. His view of magic was defining the world on your terms and borrowing mana energy based on that understanding.
So it wasn't just naming—it was infusing meaning.
Dawn of Ashes. Why had I named it that? I'd seen flames rising in a sandstorm, like dawn breaking. But it wasn't just a visual metaphor.
"Right. The ashes and the dawn—they both mean me!"
Dawn was the light slowly brightening the dark early morning sky. No matter how pitch-black the predawn, the sun always rises. It symbolized my own growth, inevitable like the sunrise. That's why I equated dawn with myself.
And ashes? The old me. The one who'd lost all will to live productively, wasting away at home. But now, I was overcoming that past, reborn. I no longer needed the old me, so I burned it to ashes. Or maybe it meant my current warmth had reduced the old me to cinders.
Rune's voice echoed from the edge of my consciousness.
"Express that defined concept in words or a sentence, and speak it aloud. We call this process incantation."
Even when Jeonghyeon Yeo summoned his stone spell, he'd snapped his fingers. That wasn't just flair—it was a trigger to recall his defined concept.
Now it was time for my incantation. Earlier, without intense emotion or a trigger, there was no way it'd work. But now, I'd fully defined the meaning of Dawn of Ashes. Just chanting it could revive that exact sensation.
The staff still hummed with residual core vibrations, emanating mana. My mana was fully under my control.
Now, with just the incantation, I was confident I could cast.
"Thanks for the advice. Now watch—this time, real magic."
"Seha, sorry to backtrack, but how about dialing back the power a bit?"
Rune's voice came from behind, but it didn't register. All my focus was on the spell; there was no room for external distractions.
Was it because my magic understanding had deepened? A mysterious notification popped up before my eyes.
Mana has increased!
I didn't even have the spare attention for something trivial like that. All I had to do was chant, and it was over.
⟨ Dawn of Ashes ⟩
With absolute certainty, I cast the third spell of my life.