Vacation (3)
With a low hum, I first drew the circle—the most basic shape of any magic circle—using mana. I fixed one about my size in midair. Then, I began meticulously crafting the magic circle with mana squeezed from my fingertips. At the center, I inscribed the core incantation and runes. Around the edges, I etched supporting spells. As carefully as possible. As steadily as possible. No mistakes allowed.
Unlike standard magic circles, creating a new one demanded utmost caution. Even if the completed design existed perfectly in my mind, any slip in execution would yield an incomplete, failed spell.
Two hours passed, and once I'd incorporated the soul synchronization formula, the inscription was done. I wiped the sweat from my brow and let out a breath.
"Phew, that's rough...."
Magic circle crafting was my strong suit. But with my past life's specs different from this body's, it was a real grind. Still, my speed was improving day by day. Kyle Arden's talent adapted to even this, optimizing my state. This body's gifts were ridiculously overpowered, as always. It filled in any gaps in my actions. Anyone else tasting this growth sensation would envy it—assuming they had the talent to unlock it, of course.
Anyway, my meridians, overheated from the intense work, cooled quickly. The upgraded channels shrugged off even heavy mana flows.
"Good work."
"Ah, Senior."
Senior spoke up from beside me. She had a cake on her lap and was munching away. Her cheeks bulging like a hamster's, as always.
"Done?"
"Just the initial phase."
"Here."
She handed me a potion swirling with blue mana.
"Thanks."
I grabbed the vial and chugged it. As expected from Senior's special brew—potent stuff. The liquid hit my stomach and instantly refilled my depleted dantian.
"Still hits great."
"Yeah. I made it." She forked a hefty chunk of cake and offered it. "Here."
"Thanks for the treat."
No need to use her eating fork, but it was the thought that counted, so I took it. The chocolate cake was delicious. Especially without that sticky chocolate texture—nice touch. Fancy places lived up to the hype. Mana and sugar topped up.
I moved to the next step. This phase needed less focus, so I chatted with Senior while engraving the completed magic circle onto the hair clip.
"Senior."
"Yeah."
"Fun just watching?"
Standing by wasn't easy, but she'd sat quietly the whole time.
"Fun. Your magic's unique."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. Formulas I've never seen."
Our training environments differed, so the details varied.
"Not curious, though? Anyone else would've grilled me."
"You're a knight who uses magic. Good at alchemy too. Not curious."
Fair. How many knights excelled in alchemy and magic? Versatile to a point was easy; mastery was another story.
"Still, two things bug me."
"Shoot. I'll answer most anything."
No talks for five days—boring. With the convo flowing, I kept it going.
"Your magic—how far?"
"Realm? Not high yet. Just 5th Circle?"
"Just?" Senior tilted her head. "'Yet'?"
"5th Circle's high. Know that?"
"Yeah."
Tianis drew geniuses continent-wide, so basics came quick. But gaps widened after. The line: knights at Expert Upper, mages at 5th Circle. Beyond? Rare. Even among third-years, maybe 50 now? Numbers varied per generation—up to 200 once.
She stared blankly before speaking.
"Heard the rumors. Bottom student last year."
"Yup. That was me."
"So... hiding your strength?"
She asked cautiously. I shot back.
"Think so?"
"Yeah. Doesn't add up. Talent doesn't change, no matter what."
"Usually."
"..."
Silence.
"...You didn't do anything dangerous, right?"
"Like?"
"...Black magic."
She whispered barely audibly.
"Think I learned black magic?"
"Only way to rise that fast."
Her face hardened, convinced. I knew her anxiety's root and eased it.
"Don't worry. Definitely not."
"Really...?"
"Doubting your disciple?"
"No. I believe you."
A faint smile. Still weak to "disciple."
"But... why academy?"
"The academy?"
"Yeah. Sword's top-tier. Magic's solid. Alchemy rivals mine. Need to attend?"
"Fair point."
Obvious question. At this level, little left to learn. But I countered.
"Then why do you keep going? Same boat."
"Me? Finish the Philosopher's Stone."
"Easier outside, no?"
"..."
More silence.
"Reasons... Can't say. Not even to disciple."
Stung a bit. But I hid it.
"Done."
Finished engraving the hair clip meantime.
"Here, take it."
"Huh?"
Handed it to her. She was the only fit recipient. Too iffy for the princess; no way for Cloi. Rana and Elraim already had gifts. Evan or Veil? Guys and hair clips don't mix. Senior, who'd slaved over the magic tool, perfect.
"Take it."
"Gifting?"
"Yeah. For the commission work."
"Did my part. Can't."
Refusing. I persuaded.
"Just say thanks and take it. Manners."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. So grab it."
"Tha...nks."
She reached slowly, took it. Tried pinning immediately, but—
"Senior. Never worn accessories, right."
"Nope."
"Gimme."
I helped with the oddly plain hair clip. Continued from before.
"Senior."
"Yeah."
"Everyone's got secrets. You hiding nothing from me?"
"Lots."
"See? Same as you."
"Yeah?"
"Yup. Still, Senior..."
"Yeah."
Meeting her eyes, I said,
"If something tough comes up, tell me. I'll help as much as I can."
"Got it. Thanks."
"No biggie."
Released my hand. Hair clip secure on her head.
"Suits you."
She stared in the mirror, nodded.
"Yeah. Looks good. Wearing it always."
Her natural beauty shone brighter with just that. People need dressing up.
"Heading out."
"Bye."
Work done, I left the workshop. Senior saw me off. Outside, facing Elraim—
We both froze.
"Ah, Elraim..."
"Yes, Young Master..."
The air was thicker than ever. My fault, of course. Guilt hit after mailing the family. Father's reply pending, treating "sis" normally? Tough.
Elraim had sensed Young Master's odd behavior lately.
"You've worked hard."
"Not at all."
"No need to downplay. Filling 1,000 service hours ain't easy. Balancing studies? Impossible for most students."
Conversation between Young Master and Rana's grandfather. Today, he'd completed his academy punishment: social service hours.
"Certificate. Submit to Student Council Hall—you're officially forgiven."
"Thank you."
"Thanks are mine. You sped up my headaches."
Managing Contract Land taxed even professors. His help cleared issues. Elraim knew—grandpa showed Young Master working to stave off boredom.
"Won't see you here anymore. You or Rana."
"I'll visit often."
They stuck together; no Young Master meant no Rana likely.
"Appreciate it. Oh, got your recent gift..."
Grandpa rummaged sub-space, handed herbs and elixirs.
"No need for this much..."
"Hoho, extras. Take freely."
"Thanks, then."
He accepted reluctantly. Normally joyful, but Young Master didn't. Dorm piled with uneaten meds—he'd asked her disposal ideas sometimes.
"Taking leave."
"Safe travels. Rana comes day after—heads up."
"Got it."
Elraim followed Kyle out of Contract Land. Celebrating his unchained status,
"Young Master, freedom at last. Congratulations."
"Ah, yeah. Thanks..."
Awkward reply. His prior confidence vanished. Suspicious. Days ago, their bond was solid—sis and bro when alone. Lately? Off. Cause seemed his, not hers. Like a guilty pup? That vibe lingered.
Why? Scheming behind my back?
Pondered endlessly—no answers. Over five days, frustration peaked; she'd asked directly.
"Young Master."
"Yeah."
"Something wrong?"
"Personal stuff... Don't worry."
Dodged vaguely. Maddening, but helpless without his say.
Wish he'd lean on me...
He solved solo—past and present. Rarely relied on her. Once for Rana's rescue. As sis, she'd welcome his whims. No chance? Hurt a bit.
Sigh...
Couldn't show it—internal sigh.
"Be back."
"Take care."
He headed to Student Council Hall. She waited downstairs. Soon—
Bzzz—
Family comm orb vibrated. One possible sender.
"Yes, Family Head."
