Rest Is Training

That afternoon, we actually rested.

Roy sat under the shade of a tree with his arms folded, eyes closed. Mari leaned back against the trunk, breathing slowly, as if she were sorting out the flow of her mana. Kaya settled her holy power first, then checked my wrist once more.

"Didn't know doing nothing could be this hard," I muttered under my breath.

"Think of it as training," Kaya said.

"Training to sit still?"

"Yeah. Looks like you need it."

Mari didn't even open her eyes.

"Don't interrupt."

I shut my mouth for a moment. And I really did sit still.

For about ten seconds.

Can't take this. Wonder if Luce had lunch yet.

My mouth curved up for no good reason. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glanced toward the shade.

"Roy hyung."

From under the tree, still with his eyes closed, Roy answered shortly.

"Yeah. What?"

"Your Aura's that blue-silver color, right?"

Still not opening his eyes, he said, "It is."

"But mine's grey. Is Aura color different for everyone?"

Only then did Roy open his eyes. A brief silence settled between us.

"Not usually."

"Not usually?"

"No—human swordsmen all have blue-silver Aura. It can be brighter or darker, denser or thinner, but the color itself doesn't stray far from blue-silver."

I looked down at my hands. The Aura that had been gathering at my fingertips since yesterday was unmistakably grey. Nothing like blue-silver.

"Then... what about mine?"

"Don't ask me that."

"Aww..."

"I can tell your power isn't ordinary Aura. Whether it's mana, Aura, or something your body is mixing together on its own—I don't know either."

Mari cut in without opening her eyes.

"To be precise, your mana flow isn't normal either."

"Miss Mari, you were the one who said not to interrupt."

"You're the one asking weird questions again."

Kaya quietly laid her fingers on my wrist, then let go.

"It's not just the color. The response is different too. Like you said yesterday—the moment the energy inside you empties, it fills right back up."

I clenched and unclenched my hand for no real reason.

"Hmm... then what about other races? The Demon King's army's probably different from humans, right?"

Roy thought for a second.

"The Demon King's army... I heard the demonkin use something closer to demonic energy than Aura. Never seen it myself, though."

"Oh... so it's just humans and demonkin?"

Roy gave me a strange look.

"No. There are elves and dwarves too."

"For real?!"

Mari finally opened her eyes and stared at me.

"Sometimes this guy doesn't just lack common sense—he acts like he came from a completely different world."

I flinched for a second.

Ugh. This is why I hate sharp people.

"I'm an outsider, remember?"

"Ha. How convenient that excuse is."

Roy rounded things off in a low voice.

"Elves lean more toward pure mana, and dwarves are said to have a strong sense for metal and earth. I don't know the details either. They're not the kind of races you see easily in Bresen."

Elves and dwarves. Even after coming to a fantasy world, I still hadn't seen either of them myself. It was strangely exciting all over again. This world was far wider than I'd imagined. And the grey light at my fingertips didn't seem all that normal even by this world's standards.

Hmm...

But the more I tried to stay still, the more clearly I could feel the inside of my body.

The Heavenly Heart. The Aura sphere and the circles.

That morning I'd learned how to leave Aura on a sword. After that, the circles started to feel similar. It wasn't about pouring out power. It was about leaving the necessary flow in the necessary place.

That thought kept chaining into the next.

Wait. This is totally a chain reaction of chai— ahem.

"Mari."

"I said don't interrupt."

"How do you increase your circles?"

Mari's brow twitched slightly.

"You really can't sit still."

"Modern people are creatures that get anxious when they sit still. And I'm curious."

"What kind of nonsense is that..."

Mari let out a long sigh. In the end, she answered anyway.

"Raising a circle isn't just adding another ring. The existing circles have to be stable, and your internal mana has to be enough to turn a new flow."

She drew a small circle in the air with her finger.

"You catch a new flow outside that, and form a new circle ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without colliding with the existing ones."

"Hmm... and if you don't have enough mana?"

"The new flow won't hold."

"If your control is lacking?"

"It backflows."

"If stability is lacking?"

"The circles slam into each other. Done wrong, your head feels like it's splitting open, and every sense in your body twists. In bad cases you can't cast magic for days. Worse, a circle can crack—or you lose magic entirely."

"Oh..."

"Don't just say 'oh'."

Mari finally opened her eyes.

"Don't tell me you..."

"No, I was just wondering if it was possible."

"Don't."

It was already too late.

Deep in my chest, a little deeper than the center of my body, the Heavenly Heart was turning quietly. The first circle spun close to it, and the second drew a slightly wider orbit outside that.

I focused on the space beyond the second circle. Not far enough to break the connection, not close enough to shove the existing flows aside. In that gap, like drawing a thin line, I imagined a new empty place.

The mana inside my body became the line first. Thin as a thread, it only marked the place to hang outside the second circle.

Then the surrounding mana seeped in through my skin. The Heavenly Heart didn't take it raw. It filtered it once, turned it into a flow I could handle, and slowly soaked that thin line.

A low hum rolled through me.

The two circles sped up, little by little. Outside them, one very thin flow began to take shape.

In that moment, a blue window rose before my eyes.

...Did it work?

It had been easier than I expected. So easy it made me uneasy.

"Hoo..."

"......What did you just do."

Mari's voice dropped a full tone.

"Uh... I just tried what you said?"

"You crazy bastard! That wasn't an invitation to do it right now!"

Only then did movement come from the shade. Roy cracked one eye open at me and said shortly,

"...Siyun. You really never stop, do you."

While Mari pressed a hand to her forehead, Kaya moved quickly to my side.

"Are you dizzy?"

"Hmm... no?"

"Tingling in your fingertips?"

"Nope."

"Breathing?"

"I'm fine?"

Kaya let out a short breath and lowered her hand.

Mari grabbed a fistful of her bangs.

"This insane bastard... absolute lunatic..."

"Heh."

I had nothing to say, so I just smiled.

"Don't smile."

"Yes ma'am."

That evening, the air was already different before magic class even began.

Mari stood facing me.

"No big spells today."

"Okay."

"No ice spears either."

"Got it."

"I don't need the things you're good at. You have to do the things you're bad at."

"Hmm... control?"

Mari's eyes narrowed.

"Right."

She lit a point of light at her fingertip. The light became a thin circle, and inside it, small lines and characters layered over one another.

A magic circle. More precisely, not some grand formation for casting, but something closer to making the flow of a formula visible to the eye.

Oh. Visual aids and everything.

"Magic doesn't fire just because you imagine it," Mari continued. "You raise mana through the circles, then align its nature with the formula. Ice is cooling and fixation. Wind is flow and direction. Fire is ignition and containment."

My eyes went to the circle at her fingertip.

"Looks complicated."

"It is complicated. That's why mages study."

She glared at me.

"Which is why every time you say 'I just did it,' I lose my mind."

The first assignment looked simpler than expected. Mari pointed at the empty air in front of me, one spot after another.

"Chest height. Half a step out from your body. Left and right, within shoulder width."

Her fingertip marked five points in the air in turn. One in the middle. Two to the sides. Two above. Like a tiny constellation.

"Make five ice shards the size of daggers there. Same size, same height, same shape—all of them."

"For attacking?"

"No. The point is to maintain them. Don't move them, don't let them fall, and don't let them hit each other."

"I'll try."

I raised my right hand lightly. The moment I focused on the Heavenly Heart and the circles, the flow turning inside me picked up speed. Mana from my body ran to my fingertips. At the same time, external mana scattered around me gathered there too.

Structure first, then the result. Then lock that result into reality with mana and power.

That's... magic.

A sharp crack rang out.

Five ice shards formed in the air at once. The result was a mess. The middle one was the size of a hatchet. The left was long and narrow like a spearhead, and the right was so thin it already had a crack. One of the upper ones was dagger-sized, but its tip was crooked, and the last was just a lump of ice. The floating heights were all over the place too—one at eye level, one almost down to my waist.

Mari swept her gaze over the shards once.

"What a disaster."

"I still made five, though..."

"So what. I told you to make five the same, not open a junk exhibition."

She had a point.

"Again."

"Okay."

On the second try, I locked in five frames first and filled them afterward. The sizes got closer, but every tip was a different shape.

"The tips are different. Again."

On the third try, I matched the tips first—short and thin like daggers, same angle. The shapes were right, but two of them slowly sagged downward.

"Not enough sustain. Again."

Through the first two attempts, Mari's voice had still carried irritation. By the third, it had shifted closer to observation. With every correction she gave, the ice shards inched toward something almost perfect.

Fourth try.

Five ice daggers hung exactly half a step in front of me, at chest height. One in the middle. Two to the left and right. Two above. This time, they were passable.

"......Fine. Now fire."

"Fire too?"

I released the magic, and the ice daggers dissolved into blue mana and faded away.

"If a mage only handles one attribute, what's the point of being a mage?"

Mari held up three fingers this time.

"Candle-sized. Three of them. Left, center, right. In a line in front of you. One palm's width between them. Don't let the heat leak outward."

"Hmm...... alright."

I raised my hand again and pictured three candle flames floating side by side in the air.

A soft flare.

This time the result was even worse than the ice. The left one was more or less candle-sized. The center one shot up like a torch. The right one barely bloomed before snuffing out with a soft puff. On top of that, heat leaking from the center flame made the left one waver too.

Mari narrowed her eyes and studied the flames.

"Fire's a nastier nature than ice."

"Nature?"

"Clamp down on it and it dies. Let go and it spreads."

"Is that so."

I watched the trembling flames. Fire. Unlike ice, it didn't have a fixed form. If Mari was right, fire was something you ignited and then contained so it wouldn't spread.

She wasn't wrong. But the fire I knew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a little different. Fire wasn't a single substance. It was a phenomenon—something burning and giving off heat and light. A reaction that happened when fuel, temperature, and air lined up.

Here, there was mana. There was magical power too. So couldn't those serve as fuel? If the Heavenly Heart held the flow, couldn't I build the conditions of fire I knew into magic?

I didn't force a grip on it. I only rethought the conditions that would let a flame hold.

Again. Three.

A soft flare.

This time three flames rose, small and trembling. All of them candle-sized. Left, center, right. They held a palm's width of space between them in a straight line, small but burning bright.

"How's this?"

"......Not bad."

For praise, her tone was extremely grudging.

"Last one, then."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Three ice daggers. One wind ring turning around them. And one flame outside that ring. Maintain them without letting them interfere with each other."

"Uh... what does that mean."

Kaya, watching from behind, looked at Mari.

"Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"That's why you make it smaller."

Mari drew a small triangle in the air with her fingertip.

"Ice daggers in a triangle."

She circled the outside of it.

"Wind is a circle turning around that. Don't touch the ice. Just turn around it."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Finally she tapped a single point above the circle.

"One flame at the top of the ring. Don't let it touch the ice. Smaller than a candle."

"So... three ice daggers on the inside, a wind ring outside that, and one flame up top?"

"Right."

"The difficulty just jumped hard."

"Because you keep doing impossible things."

"Do I make them all at once, or one by one?"

"...All at once is still too much for you. One by one."

"I'll try."

The first attempt collapsed the moment it started. The wind shook the flame, the heat melted one of the ice daggers, and the cold that bled out twisted the wind's flow. A complete mess, exactly as described.

Mari looked at the ruined magic and said, "See? The second the attributes interfere with each other, it falls apart."

I looked at the broken flows and slowly evened out my breathing.

I think I get it...

The structure was clear. Ice at the center. Wind outside that. Flame above the wind, not touching. The wind was only a thin boundary keeping the other two apart.

I turned the Heavenly Heart again. Not letting any one of them overflow. Not letting their flows shove each other. Each one only exactly where it belonged.

A sharp crack.

Three ice daggers locked into place at chest height. Lower left. Lower right. Upper. A small triangle.

A soft rush of air.

A wind ring turned slowly around the outside, as if wrapping them. At the top of the ring, about two finger-joints away from the upper ice, a tiny flame took hold.

It didn't melt. It didn't spread. It didn't go out.

Mari was silent for a long time. Her eyes weren't on the result so much as on the process that made them—the order the ice set, the direction the wind wound, even the place the flame took hold. All of it.

"......You."

Her voice sank low.

"You didn't just use the formula I taught you, did you."

"Uh... I didn't?"

"No. The formula itself was different. Only the result matched."

I groped through my thoughts for a second.

"I did it the way you told me."

"But?"

"I added a bit of what I know on top."

"And what do you know."

My eyes went to the flame above the wind ring.

"When I cast, I didn't try to force the fire into place. I just reset the conditions that would let it hold. I figured mana could stand in for those conditions."

Mari's expression went completely still.

"......That isn't magicology terminology."

"...Is it not?"

"No. And people don't usually think like that."

The flame above the wind ring trembled faintly. Mari let out a very slow breath.

"That thing just now—don't show it in front of other mages."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because that isn't how someone who learned magic uses it."

She added, very quietly,

"What the hell did you just make."

I watched the small flame in silence. The ice didn't melt. The flame didn't spread. The wind kept turning, holding the two of them apart.

In terms of magicology, I had no idea. But the Korean education curriculum inside me whispered.

Ah. This?

This is science.