I'm Actually That Kind of Genius Mage (3)

That was it. No more, no less—.

That was exactly how much I'd written, and I hadn't done a single thing besides.

The tone dripped with naivety, but being generous to newbies is an eternal truth anywhere, no?

So long as the Tower of Ascension didn't actually pit players against one another in a contest of survival, there shouldn't be any problem.

Just in case, I'd captured only a portion of the status window and scrubbed out anything that might cause trouble. I'd set the grimoire down on a bench before photographing it, too, so that no part of my body would appear in the shot. An identification number had popped up in the photo as well, so I'd wiped that away too.

And yet, even so, the reaction was anything but ordinary.

Barely two or three minutes after the post went up, the comment section had gone into a frenzy.

The most common topic, first of all, was the mana.

'5,000.'

The overwhelming majority of the reactions made one thing clear: the mana listed on my status window soared far beyond the bounds of common sense. If there was anything else, it was the people left aghast by my Intelligence and Wisdom stats.

'...Wait, is this really such an incredibly rare case? I mean, is it worth all this fuss?'

Uh, hmmm—.

If there was an unexpected part, it was this.

No, fine, the rest I could accept—but picking a grimoire earned admiration too…?

Honestly, I didn't really share the sentiment, but I let it slide. Because reading the overall context of the comments on my post, one thing became clear: the Field of Spiritual Selection was a place that could influence a player's... personal 'Spiritual Aptitude.'

'Just a guess, but... this Spiritual Aptitude thing? Doesn't seem to be used in the ordinary sense.'

Judging from the context of the language, this thing called 'Spiritual Aptitude' seemed to carry considerable importance.

'So handing out starting equipment—swords, spears... wands, or even grimoires—means more than simply providing a weapon?'

Curiosity piqued, I deliberated for a moment before posting a reply. Hmm. As for the 'nickname'... it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looked like I could register a fixed one too, but there was no reason to. You never know what might happen, so for now, a floating nickname like 'Anon' seemed the right call.

With my tiny little hands, I busily went tap-tap-tap, tap-tap— working the community interface.

'Will they even answer this?'

Ugh.

They won't call me out for asking without gathering any info first, right? For a split second I flinched—but contrary to my expectations, a surprisingly helpful answer came back before long.

Ding—.

Ah.

So that's how it works. So there's a hidden stat, huh? Consider me convinced.

'Spiritual Aptitude' was a hidden stat granted to players according to the outcome of their starting equipment choice.

And since nothing further had been added, it was most likely a permanent status buff of sorts.

Which meant?

It meant that if you picked a weapon that didn't suit you here, you might gain nothing at all from the hidden stat—or suffer a devastating loss.

'No way. If that's how it works, shouldn't they explain it beforehand? Jokes aside, this is genuinely bottom-tier game management, isn't it?'

Ugh, damn it!

If I'd truly chosen without knowing, this could have been a bone-deep loss—and they hide something like this? The thought felt underhanded, and before I knew it, my eyes had narrowed in contempt as a strangled sound of disgust slipped out of me.

But that didn't last long.

Ding—.

In the middle of my reply exchange with WordSpiritSorcerer, a player called CurseKing of all people cut in.

Ah. That, well... wasn't beyond understanding. Right, that actually might be the more rational choice. If I hadn't been turned into a tiny little girl on top of everything—and hadn't had that cheat-like personal trait—I wouldn't have picked this either.

"Ahh~"

So even among mages, the class split into that many specializations? Battle Mages, War Mages... apparently there were even White Mages and Alchemists. Alright, I'd file that away for later. Glancing over the post's comments one more time, I rose from my seat.

Tap, tap—.

Well—. That was that, and this was this, I suppose? First things first, I meant to find out whether the Common Residential Area was truly empty.

Besides, how exactly one could leave the Common Residential Area, how the facilities were equipped, and so on... there was more to do than I'd expected.

'Let's take care of it all diligently, diligently—.'

Thinking that, I bustled about while keeping an eye on the comment section—and the comments kept rolling in.

Reading through the comment section, I felt a little more at ease. Mm, being in a place like an internet community really does restore an internet ghoul's peace of mind—.

Even as I wandered around with those thoughts, there was still not so much as the tip of a nose to be seen of another person.

'Hello—?', 'Is anybody here—?'

No matter how many times I raised my voice here and there, the only thing that answered was my own echo.

"So it really is just me in this place."

Okay.

So, now that it was certain no one else was in the Common Residential Area? Then, to put it another way, that meant I was free to use this entire vast space all by myself.

'Lucky me, right~?'

I'd always been awkward with strangers to begin with, so I did consider it a stroke of fortune.

Well.

There was the drawback of being unable to exchange information, but even so, nothing changed.

With no one around in the flesh, all that remained was the community... the Hell Difficulty Minor Gallery—and in the meantime, new comments had piled up.

Except—.

"Hm?"

Unlike the other fixed-nickname users, a player called Yernil had taken an interest in the grimoire I'd brought.

Not in a good sense—in a bad one.

Huh?

...Wait, what? What did this person just say?

...No, I'd kept the possibility in mind to some extent, but it really was like that, huh?

'What?'

I jolted upright in shock, rapidly went clack-clack-clack— typing out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a reply, and the fixed-nickname users' reactions came flooding in right after.

Among the fixed-nickname users of the Hell Difficulty Minor Gallery, everyone except CurseKing reacted negatively.

Before long, I could easily see why everyone was acting the way they were.

There was no grand reason behind it—it was simply a problem that demanded practical thinking.

That's... not wrong, is it? Seriously, how do you kill that thing?

But—.

Contrary to my expectations, the solution was presented from a completely unexpected direction.

'Huh?'

Then... don't tell me...?

So that's how it is!

In that instant, it felt as though a bolt of lightning tore through my mind.

Tak—.

The very moment I read those words, eyes going wide and round, I flipped the grimoire open.

'If I can put the grimoire to use, it's a whole different story?'

...And if what they said was true, there was no need to feel small.

Because the true power of this frail ember grimoire lay in the fact that it could teach ⟨ Ember Magic ⟩.

And.

There was one cheat key.

Shff—.

The moment I spread the grimoire open, the pages turned all by themselves.

………

Just as I thought!

'If something like this is possible, then I really would be a genius mage of unprecedented caliber, like they said?'

Hehe.

But now, what am I going to do about this~?