The Vessel Emerges
I had been trying to gather even a scrap of mana when the Deputy Tower Master suddenly stopped me mid-motion.
There was no way to ignore him; his voice carried far too much weight.
So I let the mana drain away, sitting there bewildered and frozen.
A short distance away, the Deputy Tower Master sighed.
“…Why? What is it about this reaction that has you showing it to me?”
“I’m disappointed.”
“Excuse me?”
“All the people who once called you a genius mage were truly disappointing.”
At first the word disappointed stung, but the next sentence brought a wave of relief.
No matter what, it was kind words directed at me, so there was no reason to shrink back.
“Hmm. I can guess why my junior boy tried to stop you and got hurt. At first I thought he’d been careless and simply fallen. But looking at the injury, it’s nothing compared to what it could have been. Thank goodness you stopped there.”
“Was it that minor? The spell I was trying to implement back then was just a basic ice-type…”
“It’s not about what spell you were aiming for. Until now you couldn’t even shape mana into magic, so you didn’t know. Now we can see clearly.”
I could not understand a single word he was saying.
When I gave him a look of pure confusion, the Deputy Tower Master sighed and told me to listen carefully from now on.
“I still don’t know why you can’t implement magic. That may be a mystery that lasts forever. But now that you can, let’s treat magic implementation as a kind of vessel. And the mana you use to drive the magic circuit as the water you pour into that vessel.”
“Yes, that makes sense.”
“Until now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make that vessel. If you tried to pour water into it, could it even hold anything? Of course not. There was nowhere to store it.”
“Exactly?”
“But somehow you’ve managed to create the vessel now. A chance has finally come to you—the one person who couldn’t even hold water. So you’ve begun gathering every drop of mana you can and pouring it into the vessel. But listen, Lucian.”
The Deputy Tower Master’s gaze was anything but ordinary.
There was a strange, almost eerie spark in his eyes, mixed with unmistakable anticipation.
What could have prompted him to display such an emotion, something he never showed me before?
“Your vessel can hold one hundred units of water. In comparison, the mana you’ve gathered and poured in easily exceeds one hundred. It isn’t even just one or two over. It could be one hundred and ten, or perhaps more. Now, here’s a question. What happens if you pour water the vessel cannot hold?”
“…?”
The answer seemed far too obvious. Was I worried my response might be wrong?
No matter how I thought it through, I concluded it had to be correct.
So I gave the Deputy Tower Master the answer that felt completely natural.
“It overflows.”
“Exactly. It overflows. If it’s water, it will spill. But what if you pour it all at once instead of slowly? What would happen then?”
“In that case, it would still overflow. But it wouldn’t just trickle out downward—it would spray in every direction, turning into total chaos.”
“That’s your current situation. The vessel is too small, and the water you want to pour is far too much.”
According to the Deputy Tower Master, my mana capacity and the speed at which I drove the magic circuit had already surpassed what my magic implementation ability could handle.
Even after thinking it over, I could not believe I had been gathering mana at an absurd level or circulating the circuit at an unnatural speed.
I had simply been doing what everyone else did—gathering mana and driving the circuit at a normal pace.
Maybe there was nothing special about it, yet here I was, the only one who stood out in this regard.
I had never heard of such a case before.
It wasn’t that my magic implementation was superior or that I drew formulas faster than others, nor was it because my calculation speed was outstanding. Those had been the talents of the great mages I once admired.
“I can see you don’t quite understand. Honestly, I didn’t expect this either. This is new to me. Normally, magic has a limit—it must fit into your own vessel and flow through your magic circuit. But you, my boy, seem to have no such limit. You gather mana and pour it in all at once. That’s why your vessel can’t contain it and everything spills out everywhere.”
“…I still don’t get it, Deputy Tower Master. What exactly do you mean?”
“In simple terms, your magic implementation ability cannot keep up with the amount of mana you gather or the speed at which the magic circuit moves. That limit was never there in the first place. You started at maximum capacity from the very beginning.”
The moment he said it, I remembered the ability I possessed.
Unlike others, I could see everything in perfect detail the instant I looked at it—a “glance.”
Thanks to that, even though my swordsmanship was poor, I could study every technique, identify strengths and weaknesses, and improve. Despite being a magic genius, I could invent new formulas and calculations.
Moreover, a single glance let me understand a hundred things where others saw only one.
This allowed me to master multiple fields of knowledge and even perfectly imitate artistic activities like drawing.
*Could the issue with mana or the magic circuit also be due to that ability…?*
The possibility was extremely high, and nothing else made sense.
It was true that my structure was different, but that very ability had made me special.
The situation I was in now was very likely caused by that same ability.
“I’ve never encountered anything like this before, so I can’t give you firm advice. If there’s something obvious I’m missing, tell me.”
At his question, I almost spilled the secret.
But I quickly collected myself and answered that I knew nothing.
This ability was both a gift bestowed upon me and a secret I could never reveal.
It was far wiser to hide this secret than to blurt it out to someone else.
Whether I trusted others or not was irrelevant—this was simply how it had to be.
“Deputy Tower Master, you said I gather an abnormal amount of mana and that my magic circuit moves at an unnatural speed. Yet I’ve never felt any of it, and the other mages who came to see me didn’t notice anything either. How do you explain that?”
“Until now you couldn’t make the vessel, so you couldn’t pour water. No one could have known. Then the vessel appeared, and now that you’re pouring mana into it, the sheer volume is what we’ve finally noticed.”
“…?”
The word “abnormal” echoed in my ears. The vessel was swelling, and the mana flowing into it was overflowing.
That term carried the unmistakable implication that something had gone wrong.
Anyone hearing it would feel unsettled.
“You don’t need to look so troubled. The words are meant to comfort. It’s far more likely to be good news than trouble ahead.”
“…If the vessel grows larger, I’ll be able to hold even more water?”
“Precisely. I heard you’ve only been implementing magic for a month. Others needed years of preparation. Your talent is undeniable. No need to worry. They simply can’t pour the water properly into their vessels.”
The Deputy Tower Master’s words were not empty praise.
I had heard from many that the gap between their mana capacity and circuit speed left them unable to cast more powerful or refined magic.
Others were faced with too little water, not too small a vessel. I was the one with a small vessel and too much water.
Should I be happy about it, or was I simply a fool?
“Deputy Tower Master, since you’ve identified the problem, surely you can suggest a solution?”
“It’s a bit early to call it a solution, but there is only one path forward. You must enlarge the vessel. That means expanding your magic implementation ability far beyond its current level.”
A thought suddenly arose.
Until now I had been trying to cast only the level my professor suggested or even weaker, out of fear something dangerous might happen.
If that very limit was the issue, the solution might be closer than I imagined.
“From the look on your face, it seems you’ve had an insight.”
“Sort of. Thank you entirely to the Deputy Tower Master.”
“You’re an old man giving advice to a young man who is working hard. Don’t underestimate your own talent or ability. Developing magic formulas and new calculation methods at your age in the early teens is unprecedented. If you hadn’t wanted to keep it hidden, the entire kingdom of Lebechia would have known by now. Wake up to how extraordinary you are.”
Unfortunately, I had never truly understood that part of myself.
I had the ability, yet there was not a single practical use for it in real combat.
Here, the importance of swordsmanship and magic was so overwhelming that I focused only on my shortcomings in those two fields and obsessed over them.
“Anyway, I’ve heard your thoughts and given my own. I should be going now. The various materials I left in the lab are calling me. I was just developing a new formula again. Tsk.”
“I hope you don’t fail like last time and lose all the research funds again.”
“I’m not sure if you’re trying to console me or teasing me. Is this supposed to be consolation?”
“Of course it is. You never care about such things anyway.”
We had known each other for several years, yet I still couldn’t figure out his personality.
At my answer, the Deputy Tower Master let out a deep, satisfied chuckle and told me my words were correct. He even gave me a light scolding for being too quick to read the situation.
After that, as I continued living at the academy, he stood up with the advice to expand the vessel a little further.
I rose with him.
*Expand the vessel. Expand the vessel. Expand the vessel.*
*Don’t force it. Think of magic as simply and easily as possible.*
As I followed Senior Charlotte’s instructions, I finally managed to create the vessel I had failed to make until now.
The vessel was simply far too small, and the mana I was pouring into it far too abundant.
The magic circuit driving it moved at an incredible speed.
Because of all these factors, every time I tried to implement magic, accidents occurred.
The explosion at the café, the incident during midterms—everything stemmed from the same cause.
I had to solve those problems first before I could boldly reveal my talent for magic.
Only then would I truly stand out in the real sense of the word.
*Senior Liye was right. Training is the answer.*
She had said nothing but good things would come from listening to her wife.
As it turned out, the words of the ancient sages had never been wrong.