The Fruits of Magic Practice
Professor Weird was frequently called many things: a raving lunatic with a flower tucked behind her ear, primal madness birthed by nature itself, or even the man-eating plant that had devoured fourth-years whole.
That such an eccentric could oversee "Basics and Understanding of Mana Usage" for freshmen was because, character flaws notwithstanding, she excelled at drilling the fundamentals into young minds.
"Student Rosini, you've gathered far too many fire-attribute mana pieces. The vine must be scorching hot by now, so don't touch it carelessly."
"Student Sandcooker, you have an abundance of earth-attribute mana pieces. For now, your vine crumbles like dry sand, but once you blend in the right amount of water and fire attributes, it'll harden like pottery—damped, kneaded, and baked in the kiln."
"And you, student, have no talent whatsoever. No distinct affinity has manifested, and your level of amplification is pitiful. Still, if you apply yourself, you might at least learn the trick of brewing sugar water, so do keep at it diligently."
The student branded talentless welled up with tears, stammering that it couldn't possibly be true before repeatedly chanting, "Amplify! Amplify!" beneath the pitying gazes of their peers.
Heartless though it seemed, magic was a craft fiercely dictated by innate talent, so laying it bare was arguably a mercy. The truly terrifying professors were the ones who coddled the hopeless with sweet promises that hard work was all it took, taking them on as apprentices only to exploit them as errant dogsbodies and unpaid lab hands.
Talent hinges on how strongly you resonate with elemental mana, how vividly you construct your mental imagery, and how much raw power your manifestation packs. That isn't to say effort is utterly pointless, but...
Through sheer dedication, one could accumulate empirical knowledge to stand in for modern science, sharpening their output by drawing on vivid phenomena they had witnessed firsthand. But if the baseline intensity of your manifestation was abysmal from the start, cast whatever spell you liked—the results would remain limp. Fail to gather elemental mana properly, and you'd spend your days stalled at non-elemental utility cantrips, doomed to end your career as nothing more than a glorified magic-bullet dispenser.
"Student Orknodi, you appear to have gathered an awful lot of dark-attribute mana pieces."
Before I realized it, Professor Weird was standing over my desk, gazing down impassively at the blackened vine.
"Far too many, in fact."
She prodded the vine with her stubby wand, and plumes of pitch-black smoke puffed into the air.
"Extremely, overwhelmingly so."
Sitting beside me, Dorothy glanced over with concern. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Hardly. If anything, it's a blessing. Judging by this, her dark attribute affinity comfortably clears fifty percent. That's a staggering figure, you know."
"Whoa. Orknodi actually has talent?"
"In terms of single-attribute affinity, she surpasses even Student Rosini or Student Sandcooker."
The professor lingered by my desk, singing unprompted praises while eyes from every corner of the lecture hall swiveled toward us.
"Couldn't it just be a fluke? A stroke of blind luck?" I ventured.
The elemental affinity a character rolled at birth was inherently RNG. Perhaps my affinity truly was high, or perhaps I'd just hit a lucky proc.
"Then try casting your magic on this water," Professor Weird instructed.
Sugar Amplification
The crystal-clear water in the cup instantly turned ink-black.
Anyone could see it was brimming with dark attribute mana. Long before sweetness could even enter the equation, it felt as though something that should never have been amplified had hitched a ride.
"It might just look weird, okay?!"
Professor Weird retrieved a dropper and drew up a measure of the blackened water.
Gurgle, sputter.
Ignoring the ominous hissing leaking from the dropper, she tapped a single droplet onto the blackened thorn vine beside it. The vine snapped upright, latching onto the dropper and sucking down every speck of moisture.
Rustle, creak.
Watching the vine swell thicker by half an inch, the professor gasped in admiration.
"You've brewed a Dark Tonic!"
"What is that, Professor?"
"A type of elemental restorative that invigorates and fortifies dark-attribute beings. Naturally, it is fatal to living creatures of any other element, so don't you dare drink it, Student Dorothy."
"I wouldn't touch it even if you begged me! It's so obviously hazardous!"
"And that goes for you too, Student Orknodi!"
"What if I mix it into food?"
"You're welcome to try if there's a classmate you wish to murder, but the residue will linger in the corpse. The moment a mana autopsy is performed, your guilt will be laid bare in seconds!"
"I just wanted to unlock the food compendium entry, not assassinate anyone!"
Regardless, it was a bitter disappointment.
Whenever I'd practiced wand magic back at Jona's manor, we had focused almost entirely on gathering and dispersing mana; I had never actually manifested a spell. I knew all too well how dangerous it was to sling magic carelessly outside Gift Academy's protected grounds.
Because of that, my expectations had been sky-high.
What element will suit me best?
Frost magic. Fire magic. Truly, I thought any element would be wonderful.
Specializing in dark magic, however, was taking it way too far.
"Conveniently enough, Student Orknodi is already enrolled in Professor Sadako's course."
"That's 'Adventurer's Night Operations'!"
"Dark mages and necromancers are naturally inclined to skulk about under the cover of night, so grounding yourself in nocturnal maneuvers is only proper. What forward-thinking course selection."
"..."
My tech tree was being built without my consent?!
A novice player would have had a conniption right about now. Granted, being a grizzled veteran, I had already known, but knowing didn't make the pill any easier to swallow.
Everyone has playstyles they love and playstyles they despise.
As someone who thrived on the sheer exhilaration of crushing foes with raw physical force, I had never cared much for gloom-dwelling thralls of the dark slinging murky mana.
Above all, dark mana was treated continent-wide as an ominous blight wielded primarily by fiends colluding with the Demon King's forces.
"You're going to grow into a fine dark mage, Orknodi."
"I'm going to be a magic swordsman!"
"Of course you are. And when your professor was a little girl, she dreamed of becoming the World Tree."
Hmph. I'm actually going to do it, you know!
"At any rate, Student Orknodi, you must practice blending other elemental mana into your spells, even deliberately, to suppress the hazards of casting. Dark mana is inherently volatile; you can never predict what consequences might unfold, even with standard spells."
And so, a practical exam that yielded nothing but emotional scars drew to a close.
You have learned the spell: [Create Dark Thorn Vine Roots].
You have learned the spell: [Create Dark Tonic].
This was the fruit of a nature magic lab...?
After a thoroughly deflated Orknodi left the lecture hall first, Professor Weird found herself answering a question from Dorothy, who clung stubbornly to the seat beside her friend.
"Why is Orknodi's dark affinity so high?"
"A question displaying the quintessential traits of an academic mage—utterly devoid of talent, yet brimming with intellectual curiosity."
"..."
"The reason an individual possesses such elevated dark attribute affinity is almost always due to an intimate connection with shadow or death."
"Death?"
"Death is, after all, eternal darkness. A return to the void where light will never shine again. It is the most potent catalyst for deepening one's dark attribute affinity."
"Then do you think Orknodi's affinity rose because of acquired factors?"
"It's highly likely," Professor Weird answered.
Perhaps she had looked upon piles of corpses.
Perhaps she had spent her childhood playing among gravestones.
Perhaps she had survived bloody battlefields, plague-ridden villages, or an era scourged by famine.
"Or perhaps she took countless lives herself. Experiences steeped in death will invariably drive affinity through the roof."
The professors who majored in necromancy must be blessed to have her, Professor Weird mused, casting an envious glance toward the door where the girl had departed. The remaining students, on the other hand, were seized by sheer horror.
"Come to think of it, I've heard rumors. That Orknodi might have been raised as an assassin by a noble house."
"Took countless lives...?"
"Did she really slaughter enough people to push her affinity that high?!"
Orknodi is terrifying!
Seeing the terror rippling across the room, Dorothy immediately regretted asking in public. Had she known this would happen, she would have visited the professor's office later to ask in private.
Regret was useless now. The students were already buzzing with whispers, eagerly fanning the flames of fresh gossip.
"Stop talking reckless nonsense about Orknodi!" Dorothy snapped angrily.
It was her fault Orknodi was being unfairly maligned. For the sake of her friend's honor, she felt compelled to set the record straight right then and there.
"Didn't the professor say killing people drives your dark affinity way up?" one student pushed back.
"Killing isn't the only way! She said it rises from living in close proximity to death!"
"Even after undergoing assassin training?"
"That's just a rumor—nobody's confirmed it! Besides, Orknodi is tiny. Even if the rumors were true, do you really think anyone would send a little kid into real combat?!"
Sandcooker, an apprentice mage from the Yellow Magic Tower who possessed some worldly experience before enrolling, nodded in agreement.
"It's true. You don't just throw children or apprentices into field duty. They make you do foundational grunt work for years first."
Rosini, the apprentice fire mage from the Red Magic Tower, tilted her head. "Then what kind of grunt work does an apprentice assassin do?"
Hesitant murmurs rippled through the gathered students.
"Hauling corpses...?"
"Polishing murder weapons...?"
"Burying bodies in the mountains, maybe?"
A heavy silence fell over the lecture hall.
Pity mingled with terror.
A complicated tangle of emotions settled deep in their chests.