"Magical Materials Utilization" – Lecture 2 (Part 2)
Professor Atwill continued his explanation with the sword hovering in midair.
"As you all know, swords are extremely difficult items to enchant with magic. And you probably know why."
A sword's body is mostly metal. But metal is notoriously hard to enchant. Engraving a spell on the small hilt has clear limitations, and the mana from the hilt rarely even reaches the tip. Even embedding gems in the hilt to boost efficiency yields disappointing results for the cost. Directly carving magic circles into the metal for spell inscription isn't a great alternative either. Engraving circles into an already forged blade requires advanced skill, and even then, the results are rarely satisfactory. A magic circle's output scales with its size, after all. The narrow blade doesn't leave room for anything impressive.
The "magic sword" might be the stuff of men's dreams, but this is why it remains just a dream.
"There are countless spells you could enchant onto a weapon, but practical ones for swords are limited. The most common are Sharpen and Harden—usually just called 'sharpness' and 'hardening'."
A sword is a warrior's weapon. In the end, the best one is sharp and unbreakable.
"But think about it. If you're enchanting it to be hard and sharp anyway, does it even need to be metal? Why not grab a wooden stick, pile on the spells, and call it a weapon?"
The students tilted their heads at this. A few perked up at the unconventional idea, but most were skeptical. They hadn't thought it through deeply, but it just felt wrong.
"The answer, of course, is 'no.' Spell efficiency is heavily influenced by the target's properties. Plus, Sharpen and Harden don't grant new traits—they amplify existing ones. The results on a wooden stick versus a forged steel blade are worlds apart."
This time, it was that same female student raising her hand.
"Does it depend on the base material of the item being enchanted?"
"Exactly. A sword maximizes those spells because it's already 'sharp' and 'steel.' Wood takes enchantments far better than steel, but it's inferior to a steel sword for Sharpen and Harden. Better to use a plain steel sword than an enchanted wooden one."
No one had ever heard of a swordsman wielding a 'magic wooden sword.' Trying to pierce armor or serpent scales with one would be foolish—unless it had beastkin blood mixed in, maybe.
"That's why enchanting other 'sharp but weak' or 'blunt but tough' items falls short of a sword's performance. Why else do swordsmen shun 'enchanted clubs'?"
Whenever Professor Atwill covered theory, he broke it down with examples like this. He listed a few more spells heavily dependent on the target's traits, then circled back to swords.
"One more crucial point: When making or using magic tools, distinguish between the tool as the spell's 'target' versus its 'medium.'"
Students uninterested in this topic started getting headaches. Too many unfamiliar concepts piling up.
"Let me use the earlier example. A magic sword is the target of Sharpen, not the medium for something like Cleave. A 'flame wand,' on the other hand, serves as a medium to channel fire magic. Know the difference. Even tools for the same purpose need different materials based on how they work."
At that moment, the blonde girl in the front row raised her hand. She'd been asking questions nonstop since the previous class.
Professor Atwill remembered her and asked her name.
"Yes, you there. What's your name?"
"Stella Rackton."
"Right, Miss Rackton. Your question?"
Her question was exactly what he'd planned to add next.
"Aren't wands usually enchanted items themselves?"
"That's true too. Orbs, wands, staves—the tools mages use are both spell media and targets for other spells. They're crafted as targets for countless spells, then become media for even more."
Professor Atwill sheathed the sword. The menacing blade floating in the air had been stealing everyone's attention.
"That's why spellcasting tools are so tricky. Material selection, processing, crafting—it's endless. Even simple ones get pricey."
Stella Rackton nodded. Spellcasting tools were slated for the latter half of Atwill's syllabus. He'd wanted to skip them entirely, but they were in the official plan, so he'd pushed them back as far as possible.
"Moving on. Magic's three core elements are mana, mana circulation, and spells. Tools and materials aren't included, so people overlook them. Not just because I'm teaching this."
Most students knew Professor Atwill specialized in spellcraft. His fame came from research unrelated to magic materials.
"Magic materials affect all three. The right ones influence mana type and nature, mana flow form, and spell type or formula. Your tool or material choices must adapt accordingly."
Atwill took a breath, then declared to the tense students:
"That's what you'll learn this semester."
A few students' eyes lit up with scholarly zeal, but most looked worried. No way to grasp it all in one semester.
"Don't fret too much. Mastering this fully takes a lifetime. Remember what I said at the start—no material is fully understood, even by mages. This is about application, not memorization."
To reassure the uneasy students, Atwill added:
"Conversely from earlier examples, you can infer material traits from their uses. Why wood for wands and staves, minerals for orbs? Not coincidence. Why expensive parchment over cheap paper for magic scrolls? Every potion ingredient has purpose."
Atwill listed a few potion ingredients and their rough roles, tossing in more examples.
"But you need a grasp of general traits to apply them. This course is 'Magical Materials Utilization'—exactly that. Not memorizing every material in existence, but teaching you to figure out uses yourself."
Atwill checked his pocket watch. Time was up exactly.
"Alright. That's it for today."
My throat was parched after talking nonstop for over an hour. Teaching isn't my strong suit, so I was a bit worried.
"You were listening, right? How was it?"
"It was good. You must have taught a lot before?"
"Not at all. First time."
Am I a natural instructor? Never imagined that.
"No tutoring back in your student days? You must've been popular."
"Private lessons? Never."
"Why not? Such a waste."
It wasn't that I didn't—it was that I couldn't. In undergrad, I'd nearly taken a gig tutoring some young noble's kid for pocket money, but got rejected after one interview. What went wrong? Probably my speaking style.
"What're you thinking about?"
Arienael snapped me out of reminiscing.
"Nothing. Just pondering the next experiment. Don't you have class right after lunch?"
"Yes. Mondays and Wednesdays, always."
"Then skip mine. I'll call you when I need you."
"I'll attend anyway, to listen in."
"Necessary? I made the materials—you can skim them."
"I want to learn properly. It seems important."
Can't argue with that. I'd rather she experimented during that time, but she's here to study, so who am I to complain?
"Then I'll head to class. See you at the lab."
"Yeah. Later."
Arienael headed to the lecture hall. Time for me to hit the lab too. She turned in her report late, so I haven't finished reading it.
As I stood, a blonde woman approached. Does trouble always find me the second I'm alone? Wait—familiar face. Where from?
"Excuse me, Professor Atwill. I waited till you were done talking."
Ah, the question machine from class. What was her name again? I asked during lecture—asking now would be embarrassing.
"Sorry, I call everyone by family name, so yours slipped my mind."
"No problem! Stella. Stella Rackton."
Right. Rackton. Class was over—what now?