Dice 6 (1)

For once, Afternoon Lasagna had a day off.

I had only stepped outside to scrounge up a meal, but Charlotte spotted me, and the next thing I knew, I was being marched off to an empty lot.

About ten meters separated us.

"Did it really have to come to this?"

"Isn't it exactly the kind of place you asked for?"

The lot sat at the end of a side path that branched off midway up the hill where the cathedral stood. It had once been property of the Magic Tower, but with the Tower gone, it seemed to serve as a public training ground these days.

Anyone could use the facility just by filing a request — but the Academy had plenty of training grounds of its own, so few ever bothered coming all the way out here.

That said, academy life did produce the occasional reason, apparently.

Wanting special training without an audience. Casting magic on a scale too large for anything to be standing nearby. Or exam season, when every training ground was booked solid.

"I told you it wouldn't help."

"That's fine with me."

Out of sight of others. A bare lot with no training magic tools or spell arrays anywhere close. And even a large explosion would cause no trouble at all.

She actually found one.

It met every condition I had set for Charlotte.

"Couldn't you ask another mage friend you know… ah, sorry."

"I do have a friend like that!"

Then go ask that friend, then.

I had no idea why she was asking someone who wasn't even a mage to be her magic practice partner.

"Sis, want to make a bet?"

"No."

Charlotte raised her index finger and gestured at the empty cans standing scattered across the lot — everything from soda cans to tinned food and paint buckets, junk she had evidently gathered from around the area.

Ten? Maybe a few more?

"From now on, if even one of those cans falls over, I win."

"No. I'm not doing this."

"If you keep every last can standing until the end, then you win, Sis."

"Not happening."

Charlotte held my gaze for a moment with an odd little smile, then drew a magic tool from inside her coat.

A recording tool.

"What about now?"

When Charlotte fed mana into it, a stored recording played from the device.

A familiar voice.

"…Huh?"

Cedric?

"The Deputy Minister of National Security reached out to me personally just a little while ago, actually."

"Handed over to the North"? What was that supposed to mean? Don't tell me that was about me.

"Thanks to that, I've heard quite a lot about this and that."

"Uh, that…."

"Are you, perhaps, curious about the rest of the recording?"

The moment I gave a small nod, Charlotte drew the recording tool back—

"Here."

—and threw it.

Clang. I took a single step back, and the device shattered where it hit the ground.

"Agh, come on! Would it have killed you to catch it?!"

"It was going to break anyway, and you know it."

Charlotte puffed up in a sulk.

"Well, whatever. This much should be reason enough, right?"

"…I suppose so."

I gave a noncommittal nod and turned my back on her.

"Wha—h-hey, where are you going?"

"Home."

"You're not even a little curious…?"

"Nope."

There was nothing I needed to hear. She would just tell me later that I was being shipped off to the North on some Penalty Assignment or other.

It wouldn't exactly be the first time.

"R-really…?"

A voice on the very edge of tears.

"…Aww."

Clicking my tongue, I stopped in my tracks and raised a hand toward the sniffling Charlotte.

"You… you're actually going to do it!"

Toward the suddenly rigid Charlotte—

"Here."

—I tossed a single "Failure", neatly sliced off and sent her way.

Pop. The "Failure" that left my hand wobbled drunkenly through the air and detonated with a cute little bang.

"Well, that's that."

"This… this isn't what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

Charlotte scuffed one foot against the ground.

"Th-the other time! That thing that was, you know, longer, and thicker!"

"That one and this one are the same thing."

"They are completely different!"

They were exactly the same. Either way, both were "Failures."

"Can't be helped, then. I'll come at you first."

"You said this was supposed to be an attack drill in the first place."

Charlotte, cheeks puffed to their limit, stretched both arms out in front of her chest, the backs of her hands facing the sky.

But why is she aiming at me?

Wasn't the point to knock down cans?

At last, a magic circle in the shape of countless overlapping squares bloomed across Charlotte's eyes. And having actually cast the spell, she kept sneaking glances in my direction.

"Just fire already."

If it had to happen anyway, better to get it over with quickly.

"I-it might come out a little stronger than you're expecting?"

"Doesn't matter."

Magic woven from mana meant nothing to me.

"R-really firing?"

"Yes."

Well, might as well go through the motions. I spread a cluster of "Failures" through the ground beneath my feet.

Charlotte curled every finger except her thumbs and index fingers. At the center of the D-shaped frame her hands formed, a cube the size of a coin came into being, spinning on the axis of her facing thumbs — left index pointing up, right index pointing down.

The moment Charlotte twisted her wrists, the freshly made dice was thrown. It tumbled across the ground and bobbed back up, the face showing a 6.

A heartbeat later—

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Six bolts of lightning branched out from Charlotte's dice all at once. A sixfold strike.

No, wait — this counts as one cast.

I knew the second spell Charlotte had ever learned. Lightning. A spell that electrocutes its target.

Unlike fireballs or ice spikes, it was magic built for subjugation, not killing.

Of course, taking all six of those head-on wouldn't end in "shocked." It would end in "death by electrocution."

Even so, I had only heard that spell's incantation once.

So that must be the effect of the first spell she used. Probably a support-type spell, too.

If I'd been just a little closer to Charlotte, I could have read it in more detail.

Well, without seeing the actual structure, I suppose this is my limit.

It was certainly firepower worth worrying about.

Staying perfectly still should be fine, though. I'd done my part for appearances' sake. Might as well put on a little show.

"Nice spell."

Black lines spread out from beneath my feet and surged up out of the ground. Six of them, same as before — each "Failure" meeting Charlotte's magic head-on.

KWA-BOOOM! KWA-BOOOM! KWA-BOOOM! KWA-BOOOM! KWA-BOOOM! KWA-BOOOM!

A colossal roar, and dirt and dust billowed skyward.

"Khack— Sis, kheh, are you okay?"

"Yes."

As the dust settled, Charlotte stared at me, unharmed, with a blank expression.

"Y-you're… fine."

"Yep."

I gave a dry nod. There was no reason I wouldn't be.

"That's enough now, right? Let's call it a nice, clean finish right here and—"

Charlotte broke into a bright, sunny smile.

"Great! Then let's really get started."

"Huh?"

Charlotte took her stance once more. The one difference from before: her arms now spread to shoulder width. Mana gathered between her fingers, and the dice began to swell, growing larger and larger.

If a coin-sized one packed that much punch, what would a soccer-ball-sized one do?

"No, wait…."

Exactly how big was she planning to make it?

Another 6. And in the next instant, a vast storm of mana swept across the entire lot.

The sun had come to rest on the horizon.

Charlotte lay sprawled on her back in the middle of the lot, dragging in rough, ragged breaths. Alpinia sat beside her with her knees drawn together.

"That was cheating."

"It's just how I'm built."

"Is that related to why you can't use that machi… machina, or whatever those magic tools are called?"

Alpinia said nothing. Charlotte hadn't really been expecting an answer anyway.

"Even sisters, I guess… you feel alike, but somehow not."

"Do you think so?"

Charlotte found herself recalling the Saruvia she had seen at the Academy's dueling arena.

Apparently, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠yet another fool had walked straight up to Saruvia and hit her with a confession out of nowhere.

Wasn't there some story about him being a prince?

It was one of the rumors the students nearby had been trading back and forth, so she couldn't be sure.

Either way — unlike Eric, who had run, this time the duel with his challenger had actually gone through.

"As expected of the woman who caught this one's eye."

"By crushing you, this one shall prove his worth."

The shameless lines poured out of him without a pause, while Saruvia held her blank expression, unbothered by a single word of it.

"Begin!"

The presiding professor dropped his hand, and both sides unleashed their spells at once.

"Wh-what the…."

"Top student or not, how is that even possible…?"

"Isn't that basically cheating?"

"…And the professor isn't stopping her?"

The spells Saruvia was casting weren't anything remarkable in themselves.

Skipped incantations. Shifting spell coordinates. Concealment. Amplification. Conversion. Condensation.

Beyond those, a whole arsenal of support spells layered over low-tier elemental attack magic.

Fundamentals. Basics. Foundation. Bedrock.

And every one of those spells had come together in a single instant.

"…How many layers was that just now?"

"Seven? No, eight…?"

"Aren't there thirteen spells floating in the air right now?"

After that, the duel became exactly what Saruvia had warned it would be beforehand: one-sided ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bullying.

So this is what being the top of the entire academy means.

Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment and put herself in Saruvia's place.

In a one-on-one, she would win, no question. She could push back double, triple, even quadruple layers, one way or another.

But. Dozens upon dozens of spells.

A one-woman army. A monster who could fill every role at once, all by herself.

That would be rough.

Charlotte popped back upright and settled into the same sitting pose as Alpinia.

"But still, I wanted to be the top student, you see."

"Do you, now."

Giving up simply wasn't in Charlotte's nature, so she had racked her brain over how she might actually defeat Saruvia. Before long, she had remembered the "black lines" with which Alpinia had once subdued an entire crowd of thugs. They were similar — similar enough that she had asked Alpinia to be her practice partner in the first place.

Who knew I wouldn't land a single effective hit.

Every spell she had been quietly confident in had failed to get through. Blocked, smashed, shattered — over and over, until Charlotte could no longer hold her mana dice together.

After thinking it over in silence for a while, Charlotte reached her conclusion.

"Sis, I think I just don't have any talent."

"Doesn't look like you have much of a conscience, either."

Alpinia cast a sidelong glance over the wreckage Charlotte had left behind. Deeply gouged craters. Trees swept away. Rocks split clean apart. Even once Alpinia had started blocking in earnest, the barrage had exceeded anything she could cover.

The lot was a little wider now, and the cans were gone.

Letting out a sigh, Alpinia reached over and patted Charlotte's head.

"Can't you just do the same thing she does?"

"There's no way that would work."

Charlotte was asking, in effect, why she couldn't simply cast a dozen spells simultaneously, the way Saruvia did. At how casually Alpinia said it, Charlotte puffed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up her cheeks again.

Well, there's probably a reason she can't.

Alpinia wasn't a mage, after all. Believing she was in no position to advise Charlotte on magic, Alpinia kept her mouth shut.

"No matter what I do, two is my absolute limit."

Brushing herself off, Charlotte stood, picked up a long branch, and traced a spell array into the dirt.

"And it's not like I can just throw away my signature magic, either."

After studying the array Charlotte had drawn for a long moment, Alpinia murmured to herself.

"Hmm. This could actually be improved, though…."