First Magic Practicum
Son Ocheon could never understand the mentality of fools who spent all day training until they dropped.
"Does moving muscles you never used actually do any good?"
"Phew... the body doesn't lie. Exercise builds stamina little by little and makes you stronger. Natural talent may create a gap, but isn't it better than doing nothing at all?"
"That only applies to losers who don't have two coins to rub together. Boss, you're filthy rich. You've got points out the wazoo, too."
"That may be true, but..."
"Wouldn't it make you way stronger if you just hoarded more points, paid upfront for magic armor with physical enhancement, and strutted around wearing that instead?"
Does he have any idea how expensive magic armor actually is, spouting such ignorant nonsense?
Giselle felt a sudden urge to kick the shameless monkey beastman square in the shin. Knowing full well his own foot would be the one breaking, however, he simply laughed it off.
"Last week was swimming, so the muscle aches were still manageable. But haven't you heard the announcement that horsemanship begins next week? We need to diligently build our lower-body strength while we can."
"Fair point. Tuesday is right around the corner, so there wouldn't even be time to grind enough points for magic armor anyway."
Even Son Ocheon, proud of his exceptional stamina and ironclad toughness, had been pushed to absolute exhaustion during Professor Plato's double-difficulty swimming lecture over the weekend. Just as he had suffered from being unused to deep water, mounted combat lessons were bound to drain his very soul if he went in unprepared.
"...Are you doing any separate training to prepare for class?"
"I am. Stamina recharging training."
"If we could take half of your laziness and mix it with half of Orknodi's restless scurrying, I would have nothing left to wish for in this world."
Unlike Son Ocheon, who lazed around all day under the excuse of acting as a bodyguard or recharging his stamina, Orknodi darted across the academy grounds like an erratic whirlwind. There was even a running joke among the student body: If you wish to meet Orknodi, do not bother searching for her; simply camp outside the cafeteria.
—Ah. Top student Orknodi is an honor student, so she does not need to attend supplementary lectures.
She had not even shown her face at the hellish weekend double-rate swimming special training. Nobody had the faintest clue where she had gone or what she had been up to during that time.
"Don't belittle the value of effort. You're rolling your rusty brain to study too, aren't you?"
"Gah! Did Isabelle take a course on dealing critical hits instead of art appreciation? Why does that sting so bad?"
Isabelle, who had just arrived, delivered the cutting remark without missing a beat. Wincing in mock agony, Son Ocheon looked around with genuine curiosity.
"By the way, where'd the squirt go?"
"Called away by a professor."
"Tough break. And she loves food more than anything in the world. Guess it's just the three of us."
As Son Ocheon turned toward the cafeteria, Isabelle called out to stop him.
"Wait. You two, I need to consult with you about something."
"It sounds serious."
At Giselle's cautious remark, Isabelle's expression darkened even further. The underground merchant's eyes narrowed. It was an entirely different caliber of gloom compared to the everyday weariness of students suffocating under brutal assignments. It resembled the grim resolve of someone walking the streets with a dagger hidden beneath their cloak, consumed by a deadly grudge.
Something extraordinary had definitely transpired.
"The noble house that raised Orknodi... It seems they sell off the children who fail to produce results to brothels."
"What?!"
"Hey! Orknodi is only around ten! Selling a shrimp like that to a brothel—that's completely insane!"
Son Ocheon flared with explosive fury, his fur bristling. Yet Isabelle merely bit her lip, refusing to retract a single word. She recounted everything that had taken place during the Art Appreciation lecture.
"...This is grim."
"Is there any way we can help Orknodi?"
"I am not referring to our little lady."
Giselle's gaze shifted to a different angle entirely.
"It pains me to say this about such a pitifully innocent child, but while Orknodi is a delicate little lady to us, to the other students she likely appears as a monster. She possesses both the terrifying strength and the profound virtue befitting the top student of her cohort. Most of our peers cannot even begin to compare."
"So what? Because she's strong, we shouldn't feel sorry for her?"
"Please do not misunderstand me. Realistically speaking, there is zero possibility that Lady Orknodi will ever fail to meet the organization's benchmarks. The true problem lies with the organization's other candidates."
"Other candidates...?"
"When an organization cultivates operatives for a specific purpose, they will invariably raise multiple candidates simultaneously, barring an extreme shortage of budget or talent."
As a former adventurer who had traversed countless regions of the continent, Isabelle had gathered plenty of worldly insight. She grasped Giselle's implication in an instant.
"Even if Orknodi is safe, the other candidates aren't... and if Orknodi learns about that, things will spiral out of control."
"Precisely. For instance, she might volunteer to carry out the organization's deadliest missions herself to shield the dropouts. Or the organization might demand she execute far harsher assignments as the price for sparing their lives."
It was a standard method used by underworld syndicates to leash geniuses who refused to obey orders.
"I will conduct my own discreet investigation into the candidates from Orknodi's organization. The two of you must stay by Orknodi's side without disrupting her academy life."
"If you're digging into dangerous waters, shouldn't I be sticking to your side as muscle?"
"Orknodi is a far greater concern than I am. For now, well-meaning students have sworn to maintain secrecy. But as time wears on, there is no telling what malicious individuals might do to torment Orknodi if the rumors leak."
Son Ocheon groaned, unhooking the heavy staff resting against his back. "Let's just pray I won't have to bash any heads on campus."
"Don't worry," Isabelle said, her gaze steady. "I'll do everything in my power to help."
Having cleared the entrance exam purely thanks to Orknodi's guidance, it was their turn to protect her. A silent, unbreakable resolve settled between the three of them.
The bell rang for Basics and Understanding of Mana Usage. Today, at long last, the syllabus moved beyond tedious theory and formula memorization into actual spellcasting practice.
"Rosini! Can we walk back together after class? I heard fire magic works wonders against those awful mosquitoes!"
"Rosini~! Ignore those freeloaders and come with me! Huh? We're friends, aren't we?"
"Th-that sly vixen! How dare she bat her eyelashes and shamelessly flirt with Rosini?!"
A grandmaster of nature magic. A druid of proud dryad blood. Professor Weird, notorious for her blinding chalkboard-writing speed. Ironically, the student wielding fire magic—the very element the professor despised with every fiber of her being—had seen her popularity skyrocket through the academy roof.
Sitting beside me, Dorothy grumbled under her breath about Rosini.
"They say she's super rude."
"Why?"
"Dunno. Just felt like it right now."
"Pfft. What kind of logic is that?"
Dorothy, the living epicenter of campus gossip, clearly harbored a grudge against Rosini.
"I mean, nobody ever thanks Sandcooker or me after all our hard work, but everyone is practically tripping over themselves to get on Rosini's good side!"
"That's because Rosini wields the absolute power known as fire magic! If you learn some cool magic too, Dorothy, you'll be super popular!"
"Really? You think so?"
Apprentice mage Rosini of the Red Magic Tower—otherwise known as the human mosquito repellent. As Dorothy puffed out her chest, firmly resolving to attain similar glory, the lecture officially began.
"Today, we shall learn actual magic," Professor Weird announced, her leafy vines rustling softly. "Do all of you recall the formula known as Amplification, one of the most fundamental mana equations you studied?"
"Yeeees~"
"Amplification is a versatile formula that can be applied to nearly anything. You can amplify a plant's growth speed to weave an entanglement spell, or amplify the sweetness of sugar water to cast a sweet water generation spell."
The former was a staple among fledgling mages in the Adventurers' Guild who wobbled around hugging staves taller than themselves. The latter was a handy lifestyle cantrip used by wandering hedge wizards when begging local landowners for a night's lodging. Both shared the distinct virtue of having an absurdly low barrier to entry.
"These are the two spells you will be casting today," the professor continued. "Using the vine cuttings laid out on your desks, shape a vine suitable for tripping an ankle, and turn your plain water into sweet water."
Dorothy immediately grabbed an arrowhead and began aggressively carving mana path patterns onto her vine cutting.
"Is this how it works? This is right, isn't it, Orknodi?"
"Hmm... It's not totally wrong, but that's the hard way!"
"Why?"
"Carving patterns directly into the material falls under tattoo magic or engraving magic! That's a completely different branch!"
"Then how am I supposed to do it?"
"First, you need to decide your power source! You have to pick a medium to channel and trigger the spell. Something besides carvings or tattoos!"
Typically, mages gathered elemental mana through a staff, drawing mana circuits in midair to cast their spells. A full-sized staff, however, was impossible to dual-wield with a sword in the other hand.
"How do you do it, Orknodi?"
"I use this!"
I proudly produced a slender rod topped with a round, lustrous sphere glowing with a soft pearlescent sheen. A magic wand, far shorter and handier than an unwieldy staff.
"Whoa. Is that thing on the end a pebble too?"
"This isn't food! It's a wand!"
"...Pebbles aren't food either, you know."
While a wand couldn't draw in as much sheer volume as a full staff, it was still an exceptional medium for gathering attribute mana. It acted like a sieve and condenser, filtering chaotic ambient mana from the surrounding air and refining it into the exact attribute the wielder desired. In the realm of spellcasting—often compared to solving a sliding puzzle or aligning a Rubik's Cube—it granted a massive tactical edge.
"Huh?"
The mana puzzle pieces gathering around me looked bizarre.
Nature mana was supposed to be emerald green. Frost mana was supposed to be pale blue. Fire mana was supposed to be vivid crimson. Normal elemental mana always shone with bright, distinct hues.
Yet the mana coalescing around my wand was pitch black, thick with the unmistakable stench of wicked sorcery and ominous dread.
Casting an amplification spell with pure dark mana was never going to produce wholesome results.
Amplification
The moment the spell took hold, the green vine cutting was dyed inky black. In the blink of an eye, it bloated and bristled with razor-sharp, vicious thorns that looked capable of tearing straight through flesh and bone.
"Whoa!" Dorothy gasped, clapping her hands in innocent delight. "I couldn't tell when it was just a twig, but it was a thorn vine all along!"