By the Way, Why Ju Donghyeon...

"By the way, why did Ju Donghyeon end up like that?"

"He's paying her back, isn't he? Owes that woman his life."

"Even so, that looks a lot like slavery."

"Ask him later."

"I will."

"What are you going to do until then?"

"A hobby."

With nothing left to do, Yujun decided he might as well create a spell. Magic was not the sort of thing that sprang into being just because you wanted it—but the Yujun of now was another matter entirely. The ranks of his magic-related abilities had punched straight through the heavens: the Genius trait at EX++, Magic Comprehension at SSS+, and Ancient Magic at GX.

Ancient Magic, the ability that mattered most when a spell was being made, sat at a GX Tier without precedent, and the Genius trait—which might well prove even more effective than Ancient Magic itself—was EX++ as well. At that height, the strange outcome would have been failing to create magic at all.

And that was not where it ended.

The Novice Mage Set.

A novice set in name alone. Judging by the effects, there was no finer equipment anywhere for the making of magic. His mana, too, had climbed to a height that hardly bore comparison with what it had been, so it was fair to call his preparations complete.

In truth, he was itching to use a Transcendent Stone on the set. He knew perfectly well that would be a waste, and so he held himself back.

"Y-you're changing clothes? All of a sudden?"

Manuela clapped her hands over her eyes in a fluster. Her gaze was perfectly visible through the gaps in her fingers, but Yujun paid her no mind at all and equipped the Novice Mage Set.

"Why the fuss. I already had clothes on."

"Even so... I can see every line of your body."

"You looked?"

"N-no! No! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I didn't look!"

"Then we're good."

Yujun raised a formidable barrier, sat down where he was, and closed his eyes. Last of all, he activated a skill.

Can't leave Super Concentration out of this.

The Genius trait and Super Concentration might as well have been made for each other; the surge from using them together dwarfed either one alone. Super Concentration, of course, produced an effect no matter what ability it was paired with—which was part of why he thought of it as the most broken skill of the age.

He already knew what he meant to make. Not an attack spell, and not a defensive one. Not a buff, a debuff, or a support spell either. What he intended to draft was a fundamental framework: a foundation upon which magic itself could stand.

Perhaps it was the Genius trait, but creating a mere single new spell struck him as hopelessly inefficient. Lay the foundation first, and any creative attempt afterward was sure to bear fruit. It was a belief that bordered on certainty. The basic framework was essential.

I can't create something from absolute nothing. He decided to take Ancient Magic, and the ordinary spells used by common mages, as his references.

What if I blend only their strengths?

Ancient Magic was not unconditionally superior to the magic modern mages used. Set the two side by side and Ancient Magic was overwhelming—that much was true—but modern magic had clearly advanced past it in places. The trouble was that those advances refused to sit cleanly on Ancient Magic. Try to apply them whole, and mismatch after mismatch appeared.

If strengths could simply be mixed, brilliant mages would have created new magic long ago. That did not mean it was absolutely impossible. He had only to do what even genius mages could not.

I've never thought of myself as particularly bright. I'll trust the skills and the traits, and go.

There was no need to fear the side effect of failure—mana backlash. He had elixirs. No. With his Healing, even a top-grade health potion might have been enough. No need to worry about the aftermath. His mind was easy.

Time crawled. Super Concentration had reached its peak, and Yujun's focus climbed to an extreme. Stray thoughts vanished. Even the afterimages behind his closed eyes were gone, until nothing remained but theories of magic, crammed full inside his skull.

He thought, and thought again. Turning over everything he knew of Ancient Magic and modern magic, he began to doubt, and one question led into the next.

Learn from Ancient Magic, from modern magic...?

All of it was futile.

That isn't true creation.

Yujun was not a man who aspired to perfectionism, nor was that his temperament. But the magic knowledge risen so high inside him refused imitation, and refused even the borrowing of a part. He had already grasped the essence of Ancient Magic. That was what the GX Tier meant. Only now did he understand that meaning—and with it, the realization that taking the strengths of Ancient Magic and modern magic would be just as useless.

What I know is enough.

He was confident he could make magic better than Ancient Magic and modern magic combined. The Genius trait, perhaps. He almost felt as if he had truly grown smarter.

I shouldn't get arrogant.

Even so, not trying when he felt he could was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠foolish thing. Yujun moved his mana.

A foundation for new magic, until this moment only theory. To learn whether it could truly function, he had to spend mana. He was laying down nothing but the basic framework, so no spell manifested—and yet the form and flow of the mana he sent outward had changed completely from before.

The instant he tried to give that mana shape, a tremendous impact struck his head. His senses reeled, and he nearly lost the thread. He held, just barely.

Once again, the trait had come to his aid. If he blacked out here, the work of creating magic would not simply be postponed. The realizations now seated in his mind might never return. Knowing that, Yujun seized hold of his consciousness and would not let go.

Time passed, and the pain vanished as if it had never been.

What was the problem?

Drawing the mana out had not been the issue—not in theory, and not in the result. The pain had come in the moment he tried to fix the mana's form.

And I thought it was perfect.

Shape a fireball with Ancient Magic, and the spark had to be formed with precision if the spell was to hit hard and last. Locking mana into a determined form was what made that possible with comparatively little power. Under the foundation and framework he had built, the moment he imposed a form, his brain rebelled with violent force.

No. If he was honest, he could not even tell what was dealing him the pain.

So this is where it stops me...

Perhaps the chain of realizations had carried him too smoothly. The moment he was blocked, there was nothing in him but a blank helplessness. He had come to a dead halt at the most important part, and there was no help for that.

Do I have to do this without fixing any form at all?

That would mean abandoning the fundamental principles mages had built up until now. It would be as inefficient as simply flinging raw mana at an enemy—and inefficiency aside, the magic itself would very likely fail to activate.

Trying never hurts. Same as always.

He did not draw mana out in threads, as one usually did. He released it through his entire body. A great deal of mana was consumed, of course, and not a single spell activated.

No form—but I'll make it move along a path optimized for the foundation I conceived. I think this will work.

For some reason, the hunch was good. Mana pouring from his whole body began to gather in one place. As he had intended, it had no shape; it rose like vapor. It was not that the mana moved on its own while he sat still. The movement was exactly what Yujun had willed.

But had he gone too far down another road? In this form, no magic activated at all—not even Light, simple as it was. He could not bring himself to build a spell fitted to the usual specifications.

Even with conditions this absurd, making magic isn't easy.

There was no better state than the one he was in now, blessed by Manuela herself.

So that a spell manifests the instant I think it...

Yujun experimented, again and again.

My blood is special. I can use that.

More time passed.

"Got it!"

At last, Yujun had the result he wanted.

Yujun clenched his fist. Magic of a higher order than Ancient Magic was his, and a Transcendence Grade title besides. Perhaps because the title concerned magic, the synergy was enormous.

Ah. It told me to name it.

He hesitated, though in truth the skill's name hardly mattered.

Still, better if it looks like something.

Yujun quickly settled on a name for the skill that had taken Ancient Magic's place.

It was the moment a fiction he had invented to deceive Yenil was truly born.

In truth, the magic closely resembled the Dragon Tongue magic known to mages, for a spell manifested at once according to the user's will. Strictly speaking, however, it was not Dragon Tongue. It was better. Yujun was certain this stood above even the Dragon Tongue magic that only dragons used.

He had borrowed the power of the dragon blood within his body to make the new magic, and so he had taken Dragon Tongue's advantage—the omission of casting—and pushed the power to its limit. Nor could it be called a mere skipping of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cast. The instant he decided a spell must be used, the magic was already manifest before his eyes. In a way, it was perfect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enough that creating anything greater seemed impossible.

The one thing that stings is the higher mana cost.

That, at least, deserved to be called a flaw. For Yujun, who had wanted a perfect system of magic, it was a result worth a click of the tongue... and yet the merits outweighed that flaw by far.

Of course, until he actually built spells upon this foundation, confirming the effects properly would be difficult. But Yujun, who had reached the very end of Ancient Magic, could tell. The foundation he had just created ran on a different track entirely from Ancient Magic or modern magic.