Dice 6 (2)
There was a time when I spent a while studying magic formulas. Not very long — a few months at most, I'd say.
Maybe I could actually use magic, I'd thought.
To cut to the conclusion: it failed. Because I couldn't handle mana.
Once I realized that becoming a mage was impossible, I gave up on it quickly. It wasn't as though I absolutely had to be one, anyway.
It would have been nice to cast spells, but I could get by perfectly well without them.
And even after I quit learning magic proper, my exposure to it never really dried up. Formulas and magic tools were scattered across the ground like fallen leaves, and since the whole world ran on magic, plenty of criminals were mages too. There was always at least one mixed up in every case.
That was how I picked up, quite naturally, the knack of looking at a formula and reading off what it did. I had the fundamentals, after all. Drawn out in this much detail, I could make a fair guess at the structure.
Ah, that's the spell she used the first time, isn't it.
The blueprint of the dice. The formula Charlotte had drawn on the ground was, how should I put it, a thoroughly chaotic piece of magic. Well, very her, if I'm being honest.
It was not the vague effect I'd been speculating about — casting the same spell six times over at the same coordinates.
"I'm impressed you managed to make something like this work."
"Huh…? Unni, you can actually read this?"
High risk, high return.
"What do you do when a low number comes up?"
"A low number?"
It was an auxiliary formula that imposed a constraint in exchange for amplifying the effect.
The mechanism was simple. You rolled a mana-shaped die, which landed on one of the values from one to six, and the effect that followed was forced onto the next spell you cast.
A one halved the spell's power. A two doubled the mana cost. A three did nothing at all — a pure loss once you counted the mana spent just to roll. A four halved the mana cost. A five doubled the power. And a six triggered the same spell six times in a row.
At minimum, you needed a four or better for it to be worth anything.
No, honestly, even mana reduction and power amplification could be replaced without this spell. Plenty of alternatives existed that achieved greater effects at far lower cost.
So in practical terms, the only useful outcome is the six.
As I thought, it was far too gamble-heavy to use as-is—
"Um… only sixes come out, though?"
"Excuse me?"
"Isn't it just fixed to six?"
"?"
Charlotte said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Did I miss something?
Fixed to six. No matter how carefully I traced the lines, I couldn't find any such effect.
Even if what's drawn here isn't the whole formula, a method that pins a specific value would have to be built on a fundamentally different framework from the start.
Hmm. Well, fine.
If she says so, then that's how it is.
This was Charlotte's magic, after all. No one knows a person's own magic better than the person who owns it.
Maybe it's catalyst magic of some kind.
The classic example would be Morgue's blood magic. Rather than the shape of the formula itself, the effect changed according to various blood blends used as the catalyst.
In those cases, they'd deliberately draw a completely different formula pattern to disguise it as another spell entirely.
I thought it was physical enhancement, but it turned out to be mana theft — that sort of thing.
In any case, a formula was not the entirety of a spell.
Even so, there were a few things about the drawn formula that rubbed me the wrong way.
"Then it's even quicker to talk this through."
"Uh, unni?"
I plucked the branch out of Charlotte's hand and added a few more calculations.
"First, if this value has been rigged to land on six, then four and five are unnecessary, aren't they?"
"I mean, I've considered that, but a formula doesn't just get patched up that easily, you know… wait, huh?"
Starting with the value of one. If it can never come up, there's no need to think about that risk at all.
Same for two and three.
Then impose constraints on four and five as well, securing as much cost margin as possible.
What remained was maximizing the benefit of the six. I set the base framework — the same spell firing six times consecutively — as the foundation, and…
Before chaining the next calculation, I glanced over at Charlotte for a moment.
"Do you have something in mind already?"
"Uh, uhhh… no?"
Didn't she say she was aiming for the top seat?
The current top student of Eretz Academy was that child.
It's been a while since I've written out calculations like this.
Back before we'd drifted apart, that child and I used to talk about formulas like this now and then. I tried recalling that child's magic for a moment.
…
Too long ago. Nothing comes to mind.
Besides, how on earth was that child the top student? And Charlotte, with that absurdly monstrous destructive power, is second?
Yeah, no. That was definitely not the that child I remembered.
Still, I could at least make an educated guess.
The top of the Academy couldn't get by on something as simple as amplified power or reduced mana costs.
A single formula is too easy to counter, so a varied repertoire, and coordinates… well, I suppose random ones would do.
I crammed the calculations that came to mind into the framework, one after another.
…
……
…
"Whew."
With the final period drawn, I straightened my aching back.
It was fully night now. Along the edge of the training grounds, the scattered lamp posts had come to life with mana-fed light.
I meant to stop once it got reasonably dark.
The lamps were brighter than I'd expected, so I hadn't noticed at all.
I'm out of practice, too, so my sense of time slipped.
After a long stretch, I turned back to Charlotte.
"So? What do you think?"
"Uhhh…"
Charlotte wore a dazed, bewildered expression.
"Well, it's not the correct answer or anything."
A formula was, in the end, just a formula — not the spell itself. Whether it had any real combat utility could only be known once mana was actually poured into it.
"But this gives you one possible direction to take."
Still, simple calculations like these? Even a non-mage like me could lend a hand.
Charlotte stared intently at the formula drawn on the ground, chewing it over — and before long, broke into a radiant grin.
After Charlotte's frankly unhinged comment about kissing — or whatever that was — I remained firmly in her clutches.
"I can't believe you'd even help with a practical assignment!"
"Is that what it is?"
Apparently, the analysis and improvement of one's own signature spell was a shared practical assignment for the entire Practical Magic Department.
It did occur to me to wonder whether such a flimsy thing really counted as coursework.
Well, they're brand-new freshmen.
First-semester assignments were probably kept light on purpose. Not my problem.
"But, um, unni? What about me?"
"What about you?"
Charlotte tightened her grip around me.
"Once the semester started, the dorms got a curfew."
"Oh dear."
The moon sat squarely at its peak. Which meant it was already far too late to be heading back.
What a tragedy.
"C-couldn't you let me sleep over at your place, unni?"
"No."
I twisted my body slightly, grabbed her arm, and pulled.
Not budging.
"Let go."
"Huh? Don't tell me you can't even break this?"
What do you mean, can't. Clicking my tongue, I raised my free hand and—
Streeeetch.
"Ow! Owowowow!"
I pinched Charlotte's cheek and pulled it taut.
"Let. Go."
"Wet goo firth…!"
I could feel, burning in Charlotte's eyes, an ironclad determination to secure a place to sleep no matter what happened.
And I couldn't exactly spend all night locked in a staring contest with her, either. With a small sigh, I released one of her cheeks first.
"My place is off the table."
"Then we'll jutht pend the night—"
"There's somewhere to stay."
"D-do we have to go to a mothel or thomething…?"
A motel? Who said anything about a motel?
I wrenched the hand she still hadn't released as hard as I could.
"Gyaaaaahk!"
"She brought a granny home!"
"Unni, are you a grandmother? Your hair's all white!"
The children, greeting the new guest, came tumbling toward Charlotte with shrieks of delight.
"Who're you calling a granny!"
"But, but your hair's all white like this!"
"Aaagh! Who just pulled my hair?!"
Kids of roughly the same mental age got along wonderfully. As I thought — childcare was best left to the children themselves.
"She's a Practical Magic student. From my class."
"That's right."
The person who stepped up beside me was Jakina, offering the remark conversationally.
"I could hear it all the way over here. The explosion."
"…That one wasn't me."
It was Charlotte who had crammed her magic in like a brute. It was Charlotte who had half-demolished the training grounds. I was, if anything, the one who had been containing the damage.
"Turns out there's such a thing as demolition synergy."
"There is no such thing."
Despite my flat tone, Jakina remained perfectly relaxed.
"The Security Bureau called again."
"Another one?"
Kedric's visit had been barely days ago.
Something happened in that little time?
Jakina shook her head slowly.
"It's the Investigation Division. Not the Bureau itself."
"I see."
The Investigation Division — that would be the local personnel currently operating in the Magic City, then.
Drug offenders… well, technically both sides of that mess ended up as drug offenders, didn't they. It was the people I'd briefly crossed paths with when we arrested that gang's drug runners.
"They asked if you could drop by the Investigation Bureau when you have time. To assist."
"They got one, huh."
Jakina gave a small nod.
"One of them was among the guests at the 'drug offenders' party. A winner."
"Lucky them."
Well, obviously it wouldn't be the main body. Still, squeeze them a little and something useful was bound to come out.
"Oh, right, and one more thing…"
"There's more?"
Jakina tossed it out in a perfectly calm voice.
"Regarding your payment."
"Ghk."
"Alpinia, ma'am?"
There was no way I could have hauled that entire mountain of drugs alone — which was why I'd needed Jakina's help for this operation.
A collaborator.
She was, of course, not just outside the Inspection Unit, but not even a Security Bureau agent. She had no obligation whatsoever to follow my orders.
Deploying a civilian into the field was dangerous. No — dangerous wasn't the word. If she'd been caught, she'd have been prosecuted to the full extent as a terrorist, no questions asked.
Which meant her helping me this time was pure goodwill on her part—
"…I remember."
— was not what it was. It was give and take.
In exchange for Jakina lending a hand with this affair, I would grant her one request in turn.
"Sometime next week would work."
"Yes."
At least she said it isn't a dissection practicum.
She wanted me to participate as teaching material in a lecture of her own, to be held next week.
That was the deal.