The Magic Tower's Professor
"...Someday, may it flow with rippling waves once more."
I refilled the bathwater I'd used for washing with magic and stepped out of the bathroom.
"Teacher, all done washing?!"
The door swung open at that exact moment, and Riley started stripping off her clothes with wild abandon. She was wearing what could barely be called a top and bottom—a skimpy bikini—so it took less than ten seconds to get fully undressed. Ignoring Beni's flustered protests that she could just undress inside the bathroom, Riley barreled past me and dashed into the bath.
...It was a perfectly matched pink set, top and bottom.
Well, strictly speaking, Riley's assets weren't anything particularly extraordinary. The high baseline of beauty in this world included even those little details. That said, her dark skin made the bright color pop even more...
Anyway. I shook off the stray thoughts and picked up the underwear scattered on the floor. Pretending to fold them neatly, I savored the lingering warmth before sitting on the bed opposite where Beni was perched.
Oh, right—I'd need to put the room back in order before leaving.
"...What kind of paper is that?"
I turned to Beni and asked. She was sitting on the other bed, staring intently at the paper in her hands.
"Oh, this? It's homework. Basic Practical Magic."
The very class where I served as teaching assistant. Naturally, I knew what the assignment was: write about the magic tower faction that best suited you, and conversely, the one you'd have the worst compatibility with. It was essentially an exercise in self-analysis—not an easy task by any means. Professor Yael probably wasn't expecting profound insights from it. More likely, the goal was to gauge how objectively students could view themselves, a sort of metacognition check.
So if you didn't know, you could just write whatever felt right and turn it in... But seeing Beni agonizing over it all weekend, it was clear she was painstakingly diligent.
"Would it be all right if I offered a little help?"
"...Um, well, I appreciate the thought, but..."
"...I won't bring up anything about elves."
I'd offered in hopes of lending a hand, but Beni's face immediately soured with unease. She was probably wary of the "heretical theory" I'd mentioned last time—the one most imperials couldn't easily accept. Too timid to call me out directly, it seemed.
"Leaving aside the deeper stuff, wouldn't simple examples be helpful on their own?"
"Examples like...?"
"My own case."
With that, I summoned aura to my fingertip. Narrow in scope, but dense enough to see with the naked eye—a vivid blue hue. A blue orb formed atop my index finger.
"Of course, I'm no mage—I'm a martial artist. I actively use magic, but at my core, it's aura manipulation. The polar opposite of Professor Yael."
Captain Yael Jeffrison was a mage excelling in close-quarters mobility combat. In contrast, I built on melee foundations while weaving in magic. They might look similar at a glance, but dig deeper, and the gap was vast.
"So I can't be a direct role model for you, Beni. Especially since my case is..."
"Yes. The Ink Tower's spells are your mainstay, right?"
"Pardon? Oh, no, that's not it."
"Huh?"
Beni looked puzzled as I denied it.
"But class said the Ink Tower specializes in researching shamanistic spells..."
"True. The Spirit Visitation School of the Ink Tower does focus on shamanism. But the four black magic towers differ somewhat from the others."
Magic towers fundamentally pursued magitech—efficient magic application. Factions branched from those methods.
But the four black towers were unique. They approached non-magitech phenomena through a magitech lens—interdisciplinary research at heart.
The Enlightenment School studying sacraments, the Silent Ink School on anthropomancy, the Anatomy School dissecting incantation languages themselves. And the Ink Tower's Spirit Visitation School on shamanism.
"Among them, the Ink Tower is especially anomalous. Shamanism encompasses all supernatural phenomena outside sacraments and anthropomancy—broadly termed 'non-magitech.'"
My voice layered with overlapping tongues: the special tattoos innate to Riley's tribe. Even artifacts from the ancient elf civilization called the Dark Age.
The scope was so vast that some argued artifact research deserved its own faction. Anyway, the black towers leaned theoretical and experimental over practical magitech. They didn't develop standard spells.
"So it's inaccurate to say I use Ink Tower spells. At best, my body could serve as their research subject."
"Then... which faction is Lieutenant Konstantia's mainstay?"
"That requires first discussing my unique constitution..."
Words were inefficient—better to demonstrate. I chanted a brief incantation before her.
"......Huh?"
"Something like this is possible. Use the language that translates to the shortest form, and you can end the chant that much faster."
My mana investment auto-translated it into incantation language anyway. Theoretically, some spells might take longer in my chant—but rare ones. Incantation language was like Latin in a reincarnation metaphor.
'Ah, you don't know? It's a Sino-Korean term. Compression ratio sucks.'
I could just skip spells that dragged in my voice.
"But... does magic really activate like that...?"
"Didn't you just see it?"
"S-Still, the chant..."
"Beni. Remember this: in magic, chanting is mere ornamentation."
"......?"
Beni's eyes swam in confusion.
Magic's three pillars: mana, circles, chanting. The first lesson in that class. Denying it after barely a month? No wonder she was thrown.
It was like elementary school teaching "water conducts electricity," then middle school clarifying "pure water doesn't." Approximations for understanding, not literal truth.
"For example... magic is like scratching the world with your fingernail. But here's our limitation."
I casually raised my index finger, still holding the aura orb.
"Human nails lack muscles, right? We can't move them alone. ...Yet we can scratch with them. How?"
"Uh... by moving your finger like this...?"
"Exactly. Our bodies lack magic organs, but..."
I scraped the air with my finger. A faint blue trail arced like a crescent moon, leaving an afterimage.
"In essence, chanting is moving your finger to wield the nail. From that view, my ability creates an illusory finger for others. Don't be fooled by the visible one."
My hidden true finger had already flicked, leaving the mark. What others heard was mere byproduct of my real chant building the spell.
"...We've veered off-topic. Back to magic towers. My spells maximize this remnant efficiency."
I believe honing strengths outweighs patching weaknesses. The imperial military's mage training leaned that way.
"First, the Vermilion Tower's spells. You must know these already."
Beni glanced at my staff by the bed. Carrying one screamed crossbow school spells.
"Vermilion Tower's progenitor idea: partial spell substitution via magic staff. I shorten those further with my ability for peak efficiency."
Translation cheats were potent alone... but didn't slash chants absurdly. Shortening a 20-minute grand spell to 17-18 minutes was tactically huge, sure.
But I fought on the frontlines with aura melee. Shorter chants for rapid fire suited me better.
"For the same reason, I favor the Indigo Tower's spells too."
"The Summoning School......"
Indigo Tower, Summoning School. Core: pre-registering "summons." Prep long domain setups for shortcut commands.
Domain chants were lengthy drawbacks, but prepped, it was one of the two mightiest towers.
"And adding one more: the Cinnabar Tower's Knot School."
"Because their spells are hard to identify from the opening chant?"
"Precisely."
Cinnabar Tower hid chants. Faster spell recognition meant better counters, so they standardized openings to delay that.
I could bait with the identical opener then fire—devious, but effective. Ignoring Cinnabar would be foolish.
"Plus the Scarlet Tower. As I said, I'm a martial artist."
Scarlet Tower, Handmaiden School. Some called it the dumbest tower. Apt—their philosophy was brutally simple.
"If you throw a fireball by hand, can't you skip projectile clauses?"
"Huh? Are you a genius?"
It advanced Vermilion's staff-filling abstracts by filling with body instead. Every means to substitute motion for chant. Buffing for melee rushes too.
Hard to dual-wield magic and aura, so often they supported frontline warriors. Beloved among melee who mixed a spell or two.
What was it like? An online berserker popping rage and charging?
As a martial artist, I trained it somewhat. In my unit, support handled that, so rare in real combat.
"Conversely, the Landmine School suits me least. Not terrible matchup, just doesn't leverage my strengths."
Landmine School. As named: "touch and boom" magic. Chant ahead, trigger later.
Even extended, Jade Tower clashed with my cheats. Ample prep time? Same result whoever chants.
"Similarly, I avoid anthropomancy. Beyond red jade cost, no room for my special ability in knotting seals."
No edge there either.
"Approach ill-suited towers this way. No need for fatal flaws. 'No special gain even if I used it' suffices."
Opportunity cost, basically. Jade mines work fine for me—slightly faster setup maybe. But if that pales against other spells' gains...
Skip unless necessary.
"So the key is finding your strengths, Beni. Even vague images now will crystallize after three years at the academy."
"...Thank you for the advice."
Beni pondered, then nodded with a faint, bitter smile.
How helpful was I? Hard to say. Martial vs. mage gap, plus my odd magitech profile...
Still, I hoped it helped a little.
"......But you explain so well—why not back then?"
"...I think this world is at fault for rejecting truth."
"...Uh, um, yeah."