Simultaneous Release

Fwoosh.

A red-haired girl raised her hand into the air, and as she focused for a moment, a mass of flame burst into being.

The girl closed her eyes and gave a slight flick of her fingers. The sphere of flame followed the gesture, moving as if it were alive, then slammed into the wall and vanished with a bang.

The room was specially designed for magic training, and its sturdy walls barely reacted to ordinary impacts. Even so, a scorch mark and a slight dent remained.

"Done!"

The excited voice came from Xenia, the red-haired girl who had not only cast magic without an incantation but had even controlled it—a remarkable feat.

Xenia had used primitive magic without incantations before, but what she had just done was on an entirely different level.

Before, she had simply forced magic through her overflowing mana, and its efficiency had been terribly low.

Even with the mana of a Dragonean—a hybrid of dragon and human blood, however diluted—she would grow fatigued after casting magic only once or twice.

Her teacher, Yustaf, had assessed it as being on par with hunting goblins using the legendary weapon Dragon Slayer—a waste of the same magnitude.

Of course, under Yustaf's guidance, Xenia had rapidly learned magical knowledge and efficient mana control, improving by leaps and bounds.

And recently, she had drawn great inspiration from a certain book.

Lloyd Cavallo, the Flame Alchemist from <Iron-Blooded Alchemist>.

He appeared as the strongest alchemist, wearing white gloves and snapping his fingers to launch ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flames using friction.

Watching Cavallo manipulate oxygen and hydrogen through dust particles in the air to ignite flames, Xenia had a realization.

The magic she had originally used was, quite literally, at a primitive level. The magic her teacher Yustaf had taught her was somewhat more advanced, but still inefficient.

'It's not about creating fire. It's about manipulating the elements that create fire.'

Manifesting fire itself was inefficient no matter how refined the spell. But manipulating the components that produced fire was far easier and more efficient.

'I have to get stronger!'

Xenia already knew that this discovery alone would make everyone, including her teacher, praise and admire her.

But that alone was not enough.

"You are still too young to participate in this investigation."

When Xenia heard that Rupert Somerset—the creator of the picture books that had saved her—was in danger from dark wizards, she had wanted to join the investigation to save him immediately.

But Yustaf's words that she was still too young had ultimately kept her from participating.

Those words—still young, still lacking, still weak—had lodged deep in Xenia's heart, piercing her to the core.

'He saved me, but I can't help him at all...'

Her uncle and aunt, who had abused and beaten her every day. The villagers and children her age who had ignored and discriminated against her for being an orphan.

There had even been a time when Xenia had wanted to burn them all.

Because she had felt it was unfair that she alone had to live in such misery and hardship.

But in the picture books Rupert had made, which she had come across by chance, there were stories of protagonists in situations just as difficult as hers who finally found happiness.

And so Xenia had been able to hold onto hope. She had been able to dream of one day saving those who had ignored her and standing proudly before them.

Moreover—

'The author definitely remembered me.'

She had only briefly encountered him at the Somerset Count's House, which she had pestered Yustaf into letting her accompany him to, but she was certain he remembered her.

When Xenia later saw the picture book , the emotions from that moment resurfaced, and she could not hide her overwhelming feelings.

Although the protagonist Nello was a boy, he had a face and red hair exactly like hers.

'Did I look like a boy?'

She felt a little disappointed that he had mistaken her for a boy, but she still could not hide her joy at the fact that he had drawn a fairy tale modeled after her.

Especially after was published, people no longer feared red hair.

In fact, it was said that red-haired children increasingly received unearned kindness from people.

Yustaf, the teacher who had taken her in as his disciple and let her live better than most nobles, was someone she was endlessly grateful to.

But to Xenia, Rupert was special. He was the benefactor who had first shone ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a ray of light into her darkness.

When she thought about how she would never have even met her teacher if not for Rupert, she knew—no matter how many times she reconsidered—that he was the one who had given her the happiness she now had.

'This time, I'll become strong and protect you.'

As the image of Rupert's pale, haggard face from before came to mind, she renewed her resolve once more.

***