"Just One Cup More"
“Lucian, may I have a moment?”
After finishing morning Magic Theory class, I was heading out of the lecture hall when Professor Raven caught my sleeve.
At first I wondered if the professor might be asking for a favor, my suspicion still lingering from the way she’d called me over.
Professor Raven glanced around to confirm that all my classmates had already left, then waved me closer.
“Implement a spell right here in front of me.”
The request sounded so out of the blue that I paused to stare at her for a second before answering.
“Eh?”
“I want you to do it again in front of me. I simply can’t understand, no matter how I look at it.”
She was asking what I didn’t understand? My curiosity peaked, but I followed her instructions and prepared the spell anyway.
First I gathered mana from the surrounding air and filled the mana circuits until they were brimming. Then I spun the power circuit and wove the formulas and complex calculations of the spell I wanted to cast into one seamless whole.
The spell I was attempting wasn’t anything spectacular. Most of my classmates could cast it perfectly on the first try. Yet for me, even this basic magic felt like solving the world’s worst riddle.
In the end I barely managed to collect enough mana before it all exploded upward in a puff and vanished.
“Hmm.”
Professor Raven sighed with obvious disappointment, but I simply let my hands fall. By now this was routine; I felt no sting of disappointment. Just another quiet A, another failed cast. Guess I really am a failure.
“You collected the mana well, the circuits are strong and dense, and there are no mistakes in the formula. Given your talent, you shouldn’t have miscalculated the simple arithmetic. I’m genuinely sorry, though. You’re already the top-tier talent—if you weren’t blocked on spell implementation I’d have been summoned to the Magic Tower years ago. If there was even one wrong step, I could advise you on how to fix it, but you’ve done everything correctly. It’s maddening.”
“I feel the same way, Professor. I’m sorry for making you so frustrated.”
“Midterm exams are right around the corner. In Magic Theory, theory is important, but so is practical application. No matter how brilliant your theory, if you lose points in real practice you’ll struggle to stay in the top ranks.”
“That’s true.”
“While my classmates can simply cast spells and pull ahead of you.”
“…That’s true.”
“Doesn’t it make you angry? They’re the ones who’re actually worse than you. They just miss one small thing and fall behind.”
“Angry? Of course I am. Anyone would be.”
“…?”
“But I didn’t do nothing. I’ve done everything I could. And this is the result. So I’m going to stop being so desperate and commit a foolish mistake for a while. Right now I’m going to find something I can do better.”
It sounded like resignation or surrender, yet I felt neither. I had no intention of giving up or acting weak. The gift I’d been born with was far more than talent—it was a cheat. I simply had one small blind spot, and once I filled it, I would be perfect.
I kept trying, even though I knew I wouldn’t succeed. What was the point of giving up or despairing? That wouldn’t make me cool at all. It would just make me look like a complete idiot. I would keep colliding until it worked, then take a moment to catch my breath and try something else.
And right now that something else was meditation.
“…It’s strange. I’m talking to a young first-year friend who’s only just become an adult, yet it feels like I’m having this conversation with a senior who’s already tasted every bitter drop of life.”
Professor Raven was young, but… I was younger still. Hearing her say something so ancient made me feel a little hurt.
“In some ways it’s impressive, and in others it’s a little sad.”
“Sad?”
“Such effort, such brain, such heart. You’re exactly the kind of person the Magic Tower craves. I’m only saying this because it’s about you, but even though the Tower looks magnificent from the outside, inside it’s filled with all kinds of strange people.”
I already knew what she meant. I’d heard the rumors about her Magic Tower acquaintances—how some would ramble so much they’d suddenly switch topics, how others would talk like madmen. Everyone thought the Tower was a gathering of geniuses, but really it was a world full of brilliant yet incomprehensible eccentrics.
…Honestly, even my own acquaintance was no ordinary weirdo. Once he’d declared that eating breakfast was too much trouble and that he’d come up with a magic spell to eat breakfast that would also provide complete nutrition.
Of course he’d only planned it on paper and done nothing about it.
“How is your swordsmanship lately? Still growing at an incredible pace?”
“Yes. I’ve grown faster than anything I’ve experienced before.”
“That’s wonderful. If you’re growing so quickly in one area, I can expect the same from magic.”
“I hope so too. I’d love to cast something truly magnificent once.”
The moment I saw Charlotte-senpai cast Fly in just a few seconds the day before, amazement had come first, followed by envy. Some people struggled to cast even basic Light Magic, yet another could casually unleash advanced Fly. Unfair, but that was life.
After saying goodbye to Professor Raven I walked to the café.
I used to have training time with Ria, but with midterms approaching it wasn’t possible anymore. As rivals we should have helped each other, yet at important moments we needed to compete. So today I wouldn’t be able to spar with her until late afternoon.
That meant I could enjoy a cup of hot chocolate in peace.
Originally Ria had banned chocolate entirely, but she’d made an exception for exam periods. “If I affect your other lectures too, I’d feel terrible,” she’d said.
Honestly, I want two, no, three or four cups… but one is enough. One cup and I’ll stop.
I had a conscience, after all.
Even though Ria wasn’t around, I wasn’t the type to go on a chocolate binge the second she was gone. I was a decent guy.
Anyway, hot chocolate, hot chocolate—singing happily, I stepped toward the café.
Something about that familiar back view felt off. At first I thought I was seeing things. Why was the person standing there so motionless?
But when my first-year classmates greeted them with “Oh, hello, senpai,” I realized I wasn’t mistaken.
“Sigh…”
Once I’d confirmed the owner of the familiar back, I approached.
It was uncomfortable to stand so close to a woman who wasn’t Ria, but Milaze Professor had placed this elf right beside me to help with my adaptation training, and Ria would understand.
“Charlotte-senpai?”
“Eh. Ah! Lucian!”
“What are you doing here?”
If you came to the café, you should come inside and order something.
Standing still outside and just watching through the window wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Yet Charlotte-senpai had far more problems than I’d expected.
“Nothing.”
“Eh?”
“I have nothing. Money.”
“…What do you mean… Ah, are you saying there’s no money used in Lebechia?”
Charlotte-senpai nodded vigorously at my question.
According to the explanation that followed, if she needed something, the people who used to guard her would automatically buy it for her. But since Milaze Professor had driven all of them away and she’d never actually ordered or received anything herself, she had no idea what to do.
“Lucian. I want to drink that.”
“That?”
“It. The color is strange, but the taste is really good. Sweet, soft, warm.”
She was clearly talking about the hot chocolate I’d had yesterday.
I hated borrowing or begging from others, but Charlotte-senpai didn’t have that issue, and I was glad to meet someone who appreciated hot chocolate as much as I did.
What could I say? It felt like I’d accidentally met an unexpected ally in a strange place.
“Hot chocolate is that delicious?”
“Yes! Elves don’t drink things like that! We only drink sour fruit or bitter tea every day. Those are fine, but yesterday’s warm drink felt much better!”
“Yesterday’s drink was hot chocolate. It’s a kind of tea made from chocolate, which is a divine gift. Think of it as the best possible base.”
“Hotchoco! Hotchoco!”
“It’s hot chocolate, senpai.”
“Oh, right! Hot chocolate! Lucian, can I have one more?”
“You really want one more?”
She nodded enthusiastically—yes, yes, yes! And she even bobbed her head several times in just a few seconds.
From her expression, she’d spent the entire day imagining running into the café the moment she remembered hot chocolate.
Elves lived for tens of years, I’d heard. So Charlotte-senpai, who was standing right beside me, had to be an elf who was at least several dozen years old.
Yet her actions and tone made her seem like a little child.
I wondered if she was some extreme case of a childlike mindset, but the elders had said elves’ age perception was vastly different. To a human, an elf who lived for decades might still be considered a child.
That explained every strange thing about Charlotte-senpai.
No, not strange behavior—innocent curiosity of a child who hasn’t yet seen the world.
I finally understood why Milaze Professor had placed Charlotte-senpai beside me. Through her I would learn more about the elf world, and through me she would learn far more—far more deeply—about this land called Lebechia.
When we eventually returned to her homeland, I hoped she would bring something back from Minerva Academy and stir a change, a new current, in the Minas Elf Kingdom.
“Then two cups including mine…?”
“Not two, more than one! One cup is too little!”
“No… still…?”
“Lucian, you’d be disappointed too with just one! So let’s do four!”
“…”
Two was far too little. Let’s do four!
Her ridiculous suggestion somehow pulled me in. I really must be a chocolate spirit now.