Regression (2)
When a brilliant light burst forth right before his eyes, Ellen jolted in surprise.
He hastily scattered the magic and replayed what he had just done in his mind.
All I did was open my hand…
No matter how hard he thought about it, he had done nothing that should have produced a Light spell.
Magic was the act of drawing out the mana accumulated within the body and manifesting it outward. Mana affinity was what allowed that mana to link with the laws of the world. Once mana settled inside a human body, however, it took on properties different from natural mana in its pure state. Chanting a spell bridged that difference in nature and brought the magic into form. That was why people with poorer affinity needed longer chants and could never cast efficiently.
The essentials of magic are the will to manifest it, the mana itself, and a chant to carry that will.
Moments earlier he had wondered whether he could cast Light, so the will had been there. He had also been circulating mana simply to feel it.
But I never chanted.
Even the most gifted mage alive was still human, still possessed of mana that carried its own distinctive nature. A chant might grow shorter, but no one could simply omit it and cast.
Then what just happened?
He had no idea how much time had passed. The only clue was the darkness beyond the window, which told him roughly that evening had fallen. Still, Ellen could find no answer. In his previous life he had read more magic texts than he could count, yet nothing in those memories explained this.
He picked at his dinner without really eating and went up to his room. His parents fretted over how little he was taking in, but their worry barely reached him. The moment he entered the room he stretched out on the bed and began to unravel the tangled threads of thought.
It’s been a long time since I chewed on a single problem this long. When was the last time…?
One idea led to another, then another, and his mind kept wandering down side paths—an old habit of his. It wasn’t entirely a bad one. Sometimes those sprawling digressions delivered a solution he never would have found by staring straight at the original question.
Was it back when I was studying Alarm-circle arrays for dungeon watches?
Ellen’s mana capacity had always been pitifully low. Whenever he ran dungeons he had relied heavily on magic circles that could store spells in advance.
Not having enough mana really was the bane of my existence.
Out of habit he drew up his mana. As always, only a meager trickle answered.
At the academy, casting a single Magic Missile—a 1st Circle spell—left me flat on my back from mana exhaustion.
The sudden hollowed-out weakness, the queasy roll of his stomach… it had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience.
With this much I should be able to fire one off, right? Let’s try it.
He pointed a finger at the open window and prepared to chant.
In that instant—
Pii-yuuung!
Before his lips could even part, a blue lump of mana shot out the window. Ellen nearly shouted.
Again!
He still could not grasp even the faintest outline of a reason. Then a completely absurd notion flashed through his mind.
Even thinking it makes me want to laugh.
Yet if that were the cause, everything suddenly made sense. Heart pounding, he steadied himself and opened his palm.
Fwaaah!
The same Light spell from before bloomed above his hand.
I’m losing my mind.
Two days passed.
In that time Ellen left his room for nothing except meals. Bright light spilled from his window; the source was three glowing orbs floating above his palm. Through those two days of experiments he felt the world he thought he knew turn completely upside down.
He could cast magic with nothing but mana and will—no chant of any kind. He still had no idea why, but that hardly mattered.
Right now my body is closer to pure mana itself than any archmage’s.
In other words, so long as he had mana, he could cast without limit. Of course, with only 1st Circle capacity he could keep no more than three Lights aloft at once, and 2nd Circle spells remained completely out of reach. Even so, the fact alone was enough to shake the world.
This time it’s no empty excitement like a few days ago.
He remembered how he had felt mana, let hope soar, and then crashed. This time he had spent two full days repeating experiment after experiment until certainty settled in. The more he tested, the more impossible it became to deny that this absurd power truly belonged to him.
Of course, it still has its flaws.
From everything he had observed, nothing else about his talent had changed. Accumulating mana would still be painfully slow, and even at his peak he would plateau around 3rd Circle capacity. Unlimited casting meant little if the raw material—mana—was missing; he would simply burn through a few spells that much faster.
From now on I focus on stockpiling mana.
The complex formulas and theories already lived inside his head. All he needed was more mana.
How I fill that reserve will decide how far I go in this life.
One hopeful point remained: mana-gathering techniques had advanced over the past thirty years, and Ellen knew the Hameron Breathing Method. It would let him collect mana far faster than anything available in this era.
But even that won’t be enough.
Even with Hameron’s method, his affinity was still so poor that he would never draw out even a tenth of what this new ability promised.
I have to find a way—any way—to fill my mana.
The mana problem still loomed, yet the doubts about his new power had hardened into certainty, and that alone lightened his heart.
Maybe I should clear my head.
The door creaked open. Ellen headed downstairs, intending to raid the kitchen; two days of half-hearted meals had left him starving.
“Another demand letter came from him today.”
As he passed the master bedroom, his mother’s worried voice drifted out.
What’s going on?
Ellen stopped and strained to listen. As far as he remembered, nothing worth fretting over had happened before he entered the academy.
“If only Baisha would give us a little more time…”
His father Sien’s voice answered.
“At this rate Ellen might find out.”
“Anything but that. The burden would be far too heavy for the boy.”
Ellen’s mind went blank.
The debt was already there even then?
In his previous life his father had borrowed heavily from a merchant named Baisha to cover Ellen’s academy tuition. The interest had been ruinous; the debt had ballooned until Sien took on reckless mercenary work and died. The shock had broken his mother’s health, and she had followed soon after. Ellen, held back by failing grades, had learned of their deaths too late. With nowhere left to go he had stayed on as a Magic Assistant and become a mercenary.
He had never known the debt to Baisha predated all of that.
And I just sat there at the academy, completely clueless…
Self-reproach coiled around him. Just as despair began to settle, Ellen jerked his head up.
This time is different!
He was a man who had returned thirty years into the past. Using those memories, he began to form a concrete plan.
Around now… that thing should still be out there.
One particular opportunity rose clearly in his mind.