Don't Measure Romance by Efficiency

A short while later, Zenith sat on the sofa in the Director's office, sipping her tea at her leisure. Hermann had excused himself on the pretext of other business, leaving the spacious room to just the two of them — a senior and her junior, reunited after quite some time.

"You could've at least told them I was coming, you know? The guards grabbed me at the entrance."

"Did I really need to tell them? You show up, they let you in. That's plenty."

"I must've looked suspicious. They didn't wave me through until they'd checked my identification badge."

"Then the guard was doing his job properly."

"Heh. You haven't changed a bit."

Zenith Meyrud. Back in magic school she had followed Celia around calling her sunbae, sunbae with genuine devotion. After graduation they had both grown busy, and the chances to see each other had all but vanished. Now that they were face to face again, the feeling that rose in Celia's chest was less delight than a faint, persistent unease.

That loaded little smile. The way she probed at people in a tone that pretended to be perfectly innocent. She had always been like that, but the years seemed to have only sharpened the habit.

"More importantly — I hear you had a matchmaking meeting with Fernard not long ago?"

"You mean that insufferable blond?"

"That's the one. He's a member of our Next-Generation Magic Society."

The meeting her family had all but frog-marched her into. There was nothing fond about the memory. The way he had needled her by dangling talk of subsidies. The way he had spent the entire evening intoxicated by the sound of his own brilliance. Fortunately, her Leon had disposed of him without breaking a sweat at the end.

"Fernard's personality is a bit much, I'll grant you, but his skill is the real thing. He's quite well regarded in the Society, especially when it comes to formula analysis."

"A bit? The man is insufferable on a biblical scale."

"Haha. Is that so."

Zenith laughed it off and tipped her teacup. Then her gaze drifted to the old portrait hanging on one wall of the office.

"The remains… you still haven't found them?"

"If that's what you came to talk about, you can go home."

The last trace of amusement vanished from Zenith's face.

"I'm sorry. I only asked because I was worried."

"……"

Celia did not answer. It was a subject she had no desire to open.

"So. What actually brought you all the way out here?"

"That's cold, considering I haven't visited in ages."

"Zenith."

"Fine, fine."

The teacup settled onto the table.

"I just wanted to see my little sister's face. And…… I was also curious who'd stolen our iron-walled senior's purity."

"……!"

"Why the shock?"

"Th-that's not what happened at aaall……!"

"Heh."

"Don't you laugh!"

"Sorry. I've just never seen that look on you before."

God, she is insufferable.

She was doing it on purpose. She had always enjoyed watching people's reactions, even as a student, but in the intervening years she had clearly refined the talent into something approaching an art form.

"That boy — his name was Leon, wasn't it?"

"……"

"An eighteen-year-old brat who learned magic five days ago and beat Fernard in a Formula Q&A. And from what I hear, he even pinpointed the flaws in a formula he'd never seen before and corrected them on the spot."

Her voice had changed. This was no longer teasing. It was genuine curiosity.

"He's only two years older than my sister, and that kind of talent is genuinely remarkable. Fernard doesn't usually spend that long talking about a mage younger than himself."

"He praised Leon?"

"No. He spent thirty minutes explaining why he lost."

"……He must've been furious."

"Oh, enormously."

That, at least, was a little funny.

"So I wanted to meet him."

"……I'm afraid he's in the Tower at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the moment. He happened to set out just last night."

"A Climber, then?"

"Yes. One of our Institute's special Climbers."

"Hmm…… is that so?"

Zenith seemed to sink into thought for a moment, then settled comfortably back against the sofa.

"I was planning to stay around here for about three days anyway. I assume it's all right if I linger until the boy comes back?"

"For free?"

"That's harsh. Would you like me to throw in a donation while I'm at it?"

"No, that isn't what I meant."

Celia looked her junior over from across the table. As it happened, this was convenient.

"Zenith. I heard you passed the Grand Magus evaluation not long ago."

"You already knew?"

"Show us your magic this afternoon. In front of our Climbers."

"And that's really enough for you?"

"It is. It'll be an invaluable experience for them."

Zenith had been like this since their school days. Rather than walking the path other people had already paved, she tore it up and rebuilt it to her own specifications, and in the end she always arrived at an answer no one else had found. That much, Celia had always acknowledged. If a mage of that caliber was willing to give a live demonstration, a few nights of complimentary lodging was nothing.

Her personality was a little strange, but still.

"All right. Why not."

Zenith accepted without attaching ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a single condition.

"Besides, I'm curious how much my little sister's skills have improved."

"Iris?"

"Mm."

"She's come a long way. The way she handles formulas has changed quite a bit lately — she's been learning all sorts of things from Leon."

"……Iris has?"

"Why do you look so surprised?"

Zenith glanced down at her teacup, then let the corner of her mouth curl.

"That's a relief."

"What is?"

"It seems she still has that talent for following answers other people hand her."

She really is the worst.

Knock, knock.

A knock came at the door, as if on cue.

"Director. I was told you asked for me."

"Come in."

The door creaked open.

"What did you need me…… fo……"

Iris stepped through the doorway and stopped dead. She had seen Zenith on the sofa.

A brief silence settled over the room. After standing frozen for a few seconds, Iris lowered her gaze and bowed.

"……I pay my respects to the future head of the house."

"You won't even call me your sister. You used to."

"……How could I possibly dare."

"Were we really that distant, you and I?"

There was no answer.

Zenith rose from her seat and walked toward Iris. Her hand reached out toward her sister's hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world — and Iris took a step back before it could land.

"Forgive me, but I would ask that you refrain from unnecessary physical contact."

"……"

The smile slipped from Zenith's face for a moment.

"How insolent."

She lowered her hand as if nothing had happened. Celia watched the exchange in silence.

Huh…… that's odd.

It was a little different from the rumors. Celia had assumed Zenith was the one who unilaterally pushed Iris around — but the person drawing a hard, unyielding line right now was Iris. Of course, given the way that woman had just talked about her own sister, it wasn't entirely incomprehensible.

"Iris. Gather some people this afternoon. Zenith has agreed to give a magic demonstration."

"……Understood."

Iris bowed her head. That was the end of the business at hand.

Zenith rose first and started for the door, then stopped beside Iris.

"Iris. Can we talk later?"

"……I must respectfully decline."

"……Fine. Let's leave it at that."

Silence again. Caught between the two of them, Celia found herself fidgeting with her teacup for no reason at all.

……This is awkward.

This is painfully awkward.

That afternoon, the training grounds of the White Magic Tower were far more crowded than usual. Word had spread that Grand Magus Zenith Meyrud would be demonstrating her magic in person. Mages belonging to the Institute had turned out, and even Climbers with no training scheduled that day had poured in, packing the wide perimeter of the grounds until ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there was scarcely room to stand.

At the center of it all, Zenith slowly raised a hand.

"Well then. Let's start light."

A single blue Magic Formula bloomed in the air. A second took shape beside it almost immediately, and a third layered over them before the first had even finished forming. Formulas of entirely different structures chased one another's tails, filling the space around her in a matter of heartbeats.

An ordinary mage completed one formula before unfolding the next. Zenith did not. Two, three — sometimes more than that — ran simultaneously, and the flow of mana never tangled for even an instant.

"……"

Someone in the crowd swallowed hard. Iris looked up at the spectacle without a word.

"……She really is incredible."

Disliking her sister was one thing. Denying that skill was another. A Grand Magus — a rank of which barely ten existed in any given nation. And among even that handful, her own sister was counted as one of the very best. A back she had never once managed to reach, not since they were children. A back that now seemed even further away than it had then.

……Will I.

Will I ever make it up there too?

"This magic is an original of mine."

Zenith flicked a finger.

"I'd appreciate it if you called it the Super-electromagnetic Cannon."

The blue light flared as one. Lightning-aspected formulas meshed together in a dense, interlocking lattice. Three Compression Formulas. Four Output Formulas. And a staggering eight Propulsion Formulas.

"……Eight Propulsion Formulas?"

Someone muttered it in disbelief. Stacking the same formula that many times without letting them interfere with one another — that alone was proof enough that the title of Grand Magus had not been handed out for nothing.

A roar split the air.

A blue lance of light tore across the training ground. The targets set up ahead punched through like paper, and the defensive plate behind them crumpled inward with a deep, tortured groan. The shockwave arrived a beat later, whipping hair and robe hems into a wild frenzy.

"……That's insane. That's not magic anymore — that's overturning the common sense of magic itself."

"How many formulas did she just deploy at once?"

"She controlled a multi-formula array like that simultaneously, without a single error?"

Awe erupted from every direction. Zenith, looking entirely unimpressed with herself, moved on to the next spell.

"And this is Inferno Flame."

This time a black aura seeped through the red. Fire and Darkness. Output and Compression Formulas stacked over both attributes, and a Diffusion Formula settled on top as the finishing piece. The two elements fused, and a dark-crimson fireball rose above her palm.

It was no larger than a human head, but the heat packed inside it warped the surrounding air into shimmering haze. Zenith gave her wrist a light push.

The fireball crossed the distance with a low whoosh and kissed the target. The explosion was not large. A coil of black flame simply wrapped once around the mark and vanished.

Where the fire had been, nothing remained. The target had melted out of existence entirely, leaving only a blackened, fused scar on the ground.

"Whew. Something light, about like that."

Zenith dusted off her hands.

"……That was 'light'?"

"What? This much is nothing for you either, isn't it?"

"I wonder."

Celia looked down at her own hands. She closed them into a fist, then slowly let them open.

"……I may already be too late."

"That doesn't sound like you."

"What doesn't."

"You never used to say things like that."

Celia did not answer. Zenith did not press. She simply turned away.

"It'd be no fun if we just watched and called it a day."

The murmuring faded by degrees.

"This time I'll personally look at about three of you. I'll watch your magic, tidy up your formulas a little. Something along those lines."

Hands shot up before the words had finished leaving her mouth.

"M-me……! Please look at me!"

"Grand Magus! Just one look at my magic, I beg you! I've prepared something extraordinary!"

"Over here! Sunbae, please, this way!"

The training ground turned into a marketplace in seconds. Zenith watched the chaos for a moment, then let her finger drift slowly across the crowd.

"Hmm…… who should be first."

The fingertip that had swept over dozens of people came to rest at last on a single point.

"The young lady there. Would you come forward?"

Iris's eyes widened a fraction.

"……Me?"

The Tower, twenty-seventh floor. The ogre settlement.

"GRAAAAH!! URGHAAAAA!!!"

(Chief, we're fucked! Some crazy mage is slaughtering the whole tribe!!!!)

"URGHAAK?! UOOOOOOOOH!!!"

(The fuck are you talking about, uooooh—!!!)

A hole punched through one ogre's skull before it could finish the sentence.

"Hehehe, Ultra-Fast Lightning Gun, FIIIRE!!!!"

Every twitch of my fingers sent a blue flash screaming across the settlement. Shield or club, it made no difference. After the lightning blinked, an ogre was always rolling on the ground.

"Accuracy: PASS! Power: also PAAAAASS!!!!"

And above all else, it was fast. Genuinely, obscenely fast — so fast even I, the caster, could barely track it with my own eyes.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Urgh…… urgaaah……"

(Oh…… good god……)

The ogre chief surveyed the wreckage with a slack, emptied face.

"What's all the mumbling about?"

I flicked the leftover current off my fingertips.

The Ultra-Fast Lightning Gun. This one, I had to admit, was a well-made spell. Fast enough that missing was almost harder than hitting, and if it landed clean, most things just ended.

"Hmm…… still, calling it a finished product would be a stretch."

A little faster would be nice. Fast enough that it didn't even leave a trace.

But that was a problem for later. Right now, there were far too many toys sitting in front of me!

"GUOOOOOOOOH!!"

The ogre chief bellowed and swung both arms. The ones in the back scooped up boulders the size of a grown man, and up front the particularly massive specimens locked tower-shields of raw timber into place and came thundering in as a pack.

A stone hissed past my ear. I tilted my head, just a little. Behind me, the ground detonated.

"Oho. Not bad, considering the faces on you."

Rocks from the back line, shield-bearers shoving in from the front. So they'd gone and split themselves into ranged DPS and tanks, had they?

Ahhh — in that case, I had no choice but to break out the secret weapon……

I thrust my right hand forward.

"BEHOLD—!!! No — Black Flame Dragon!!!!!!!!"

Red and black Magic Formulas unfurled all at once. Dark-crimson fire coiled through the air in a long, living spiral, knitting itself into a head, then a body.

Anyone looking at it would have called it a dragon.

A slightly ugly one, sure.

"And?"

"No."

"Romance doesn't need efficiency. So shut up."

This time, there was no reply.

Hah. I win.

"Guhh……?"

Only then did the charging ogres seem to realize something had gone terribly wrong. Their momentum died on the spot. Even the ones holding boulders lowered their arms and stared up at the black dragon coiling through the sky.

"Good god……"

(Urghak……)

Wait. They can talk normally?

Eh. Not that it matters.

I cocked my right arm all the way back.

"GO TELL THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD!!!!!!!!"

The Black Flame Dragon wound itself down my arm and thrust a colossal head out over my fist.

"MAKE ME THE BOSS!!!!!!!"

I drove the punch forward.

The black dragon launched like a cannon shell and swallowed the ogre horde head-on. The timber shields went up like kindling. The incoming boulders bounced away on the shockwave. Then the black fire spilled between the log houses and, in a heartbeat, swallowed half the settlement.

"Kiiih—! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!"

Yes.

This. This is what magic is supposed to be.

The Lightning Gun was fun, sure — but it couldn't hold a candle to the satisfaction of personally hurling a dragon.

The ogres still standing had already given up on fighting. They fled in every direction, bellowing as they ran — all except the chief, who stood vacant in the middle of his burning village.

"Urgh…… urgaah……"

(This is…… this is……)

Slowly, the creature sank to its knees.

"Urgh urgaaagh……"

(This is hell……)

"KIHAHAHAHAHA—!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!!!"

Ah.

This is too much fun.