Tomb of the Ordinary, Beginning of the Genius
In the world of magic, there exists a realm spoken of only in legends. The 9th Circle—the domain of dragons, the stuff of myths. In truth, circles are nothing more than arbitrary lines drawn by mages themselves, so calling their ultimate aspiration the 9th Circle is really just romanticizing an ideal.
What I’m getting at is this: when you split the stages from one to nine, the 5th Circle sits exactly in the middle. That position carries real weight.
The 5th Circle is the realm an ordinary mage can only reach after devoting their entire life to magic with zero exaggeration. It’s known as the tomb of the mediocre and the beginning of true geniuses.
Maybe it’s because the very next stage—6th Circle—is where people start being called archmages. Either way, the 5th Circle is where magic of a fundamentally higher dimension finally begins to reveal itself.
Basic space magic appears. Spells that might look like 1st Circle on the surface but can be maintained semi-permanently. Attack magic so destructive and wide-ranging that anything below 5th Circle looks like child’s play. This is the realm where a single mage can dominate an entire battlefield.
A one-man army. If we’re comparing it to knights… a Sword Master?
Nah, that’s going too far. Objectively, a Sword Master contributes far more to both personal combat strength and group battles than a 5-Circle mage.
Anyway, I’ve been rambling. The point is—it’s ridiculously hard to reach.
Focus every ounce of my mind… now!
“Blink!”
Whirrrr— whoosh——.
Another failure.
I was practicing the short-range spatial movement spell Blink, but the penalty for failing it was no joke. Maybe it was the nature of space magic, but every failed cast brought a sickening vertigo that felt like my entire nervous system was being wrung out like a wet towel.
“Urk.”
That was why I kept practicing with my hand clamped over my mouth, desperately fighting back the urge to vomit every time it went wrong.
“Failed again, sir?”
I turned toward the voice. Sir Levenstill stood there.
“Hoo… Yeah. It’s not easy at all.”
“It is the 5th Circle. Reaching 4th Circle at your age is already incredible, if you ask me.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Compared to the mages in the Tower, I’m still miles behind.”
“Well… that is the Magic Tower we’re talking about. They’re fundamentally different from us rural mages from the start. It can’t be helped, can it?”
“Listen to you, sounding so defeated. You’re not planning to give up either, are you?”
“That’s… true.”
He was also struggling to raise his own circle, so he visited often to ask for my advice on the 4th Circle. As a result, he frequently saw me practicing like this.
“So, any progress in the last month?”
“I think I’ve started to grasp the feel for Fire Javelin, if only faintly.”
“Oh, that’s pretty quick.”
“It’s all thanks to you demonstrating it yourself. Saved me a ton of effort during the visualization stage.”
“Hey, even receiving a gift takes talent.”
After a short, warm conversation and a few pointers on Fire Javelin, Sir Levenstill thanked me and left.
It was a good thing.
Truthfully, after the unit was formed, the person who had probably been the most anxious inside was Sir Levenstill. The other members had improved by leaps and bounds and were now breathing down the neck of 3rd Circle. For the guy who used to be the clear leader to suddenly feel himself being overtaken—how much must that have weighed on him?
Now that he’d finally found his footing for the 4th Circle, anticipation would outweigh his anxiety.
Anyway, enough about Sir Levenstill. The problem was that I was in the exact same boat. I was just as restless.
The unit members catching up to me? I’d welcome it. That wasn’t what made me anxious.
No, the biggest reason for my nerves was what had happened in the dungeon a month ago.
Just thinking about it sent chills down my spine. If the enemy hadn’t let their guard down and we’d been forced into a proper fight from the start, or if their boss had been even a little stronger and managed to break through my magic to attack me—the what-ifs kept chaining together in my head.
Honestly, without that sliver of luck, every single one of us—including the unit members—would have been moving to a new address in the afterlife.
Along with the relief of having survived by the skin of our teeth, I felt something else in my bones.
My own limits.
Especially the fact that the only way I had to create distance from a charging knight was to run on my own two legs. A battle of stamina under overwhelmingly unfavorable conditions. I regretted slacking on my path to the 5th Circle so hard it hurt.
It was true that the past year had been busy. Raising the unit members’ circles, helping with the territory’s affairs as a vassal, all sorts of things. But when your life is on the line, do any of those count as excuses?
“…Yeah. In the end, to break through this situation, I need to reach the 5th Circle.”
Fly, Blink, Flame Wall… and everything else that came with it.
Whatever it took, I had to hit 5th Circle. I never wanted to be in that pathetic situation again.
“Blink!”
Whirrrr— whoosh——.
Goddamn it, failed again—
“Blarghhh!”
I couldn’t hold it back this time. Damn it all.
After practicing Blink all day, my mana was completely drained and the constant dry heaving had sapped every last drop of my stamina. In that condition, the thought of eating or even moving felt impossible, so I ditched my commander duties for the moment and just lay in bed.
“Ugh… My stomach’s queasy, I can’t eat anything, but I’m still hungry.”
Looking at myself, it seems true nature really doesn’t change. Whether in my past life or this one, I always end up suffering by my own hand.
Knock knock!
Hm? Who could that be? Like I said before, this is the Middle Ages (details omitted)… Either way, it’s late at night. Who would come at this hour?
“Commander, it’s me. Bruno.”
…Now that was an unexpected visitor. Not Hans or Sir Levenstill—Bruno?
Considering how often I chewed him out, maybe he heard I was sick and came for revenge? No way… right?
“Are you in?”
Creak!
I hadn’t even given permission yet and he just opens the door like that—
“Ah, you are here. Why didn’t you answer? I brought some porridge. Heard you skipped dinner earlier.”
“…Y-yeah. I’ll eat.”
It was surprising. The guy who was usually clumsy and constantly grumbling to everyone around him had a side like this.
Slurp!
I took the porridge from Bruno. It looked like oatmeal—probably a mix of wheat flour and various grains. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but on an empty stomach it went down easily, and before I knew it I’d emptied the entire bowl.
“You really were hungry. Well, I’ll be going now—”
“Wait.”
I stopped him.
“So… coming here like this… it doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore?”
“Hmm… Honestly, I think I’ve gotten used to it.”
When I called out to him, Bruno answered with a strangely intrigued expression. I jerked my chin toward the chair, and he sat down obediently before continuing.
“At first, I genuinely thought I’d gotten tangled up with a crazy person. I wake up after drinking to find myself in a carriage I’d never seen before. I try to leave and suddenly I’m tied up. Then, without any explanation, I’m told to become a mage.”
Hmm… Sounds like he had more resentment built up than I realized…?
“The training nearly killed me, learning magic still doesn’t click, Hans is a commoner but gets to be squad leader and acts all high and mighty, and the territory is a boring backwater with nothing to do.”
“Ahem!”
“But still. I’ve gotten used to all of it now. And I can tell you’re serious about this, Commander. You really do plan to change the world with a mage unit, don’t you?”
He lowered his head deeply as he continued.
“Thank you for giving this opportunity to the worthless third son of a minor count family.”
…Why was the atmosphere suddenly like this? It was throwing me off. Where had that usual cheeky attitude he always threw at me gone? Since when did he speak so seriously?
“And in the dungeon last time, you pushed yourself to save us. Aren’t you still pushing yourself even now?”
That… I guess I had been a bit impatient.
“You can take it easy sometimes! You’re only sixteen, aren’t you? You’re still three years younger than me!”
“Even with that face, saying you’re only three years older than me is a bit much…”
“Hey, do you really have to mention that every single time?”
…So it really was a complex. I’d only brought it up to break the heavy mood, but now I felt bad.
When I turned my head with an apologetic expression, Bruno scratched his chin and kept talking.
“Anyway! Even if you’ve had your coming-of-age ceremony, you’re still just a kid! There’s no need to rush so much!”
Having said his piece, Bruno stood up and walked toward the door.
Creak!
Then, as if he had one last thing to say, he turned back.
“No matter what anyone says, even I—the slowest learner in the entire unit—am still growing! So there!”
By the time he finished, he must have gotten embarrassed, because he blurted the last part in a high-pitched rush and practically fled the room.
Bang!
He’d probably said all that to encourage me in his own way, but…
My face grew hot.
“…Idiot. If you’re going to feel embarrassed, don’t say stuff like that in the first place.”
Now I feel awkward too.