The Day Magic Strikes
The day after I somehow managed to extend the lifespan of my neck through a stroke of luck with that spell. As usual, I was enjoying the eye candy among the professors and students when I headed to the faculty office... and found someone collapsed there.
"Captain Yael?"
I called out her name in confusion at the sight. Both Yael and I tended to arrive earlier than most. We were new hires, not even a month on the job, so in a way, it was just the natural order of things in the working world. With nothing else to do after arriving, we'd tidy up the office, prepare lecture materials in advance, and kill time like that... But the Yael who would normally greet me with a grin was, for some reason, face-down on her desk.
She was gently rubbing her lower abdomen with her hand, so it didn't look like she'd lost consciousness and collapsed.
"Urgh... Konstantia, you're here, Lieutenant...?"
Her voice was straight out of a dying woman's last breath. Now that I looked closer, she was even breaking a cold sweat. Her condition was clearly far from normal.
"You look like you're in a lot of pain. Should I call a priest?"
"No, that's not it..."
Yael groaned as she slowly lifted her upper body. The sweat-soaked strands of hair clinging to her skin had an oddly seductive vibe.
"...It's that day."
"Ah."
The magic day.
Nothing to be done about menstruation. I could grasp the entire situation with just that one word.
"I... have really bad cramps... Ugh, but today's especially rough..."
"Can you still handle the lecture?"
First period today was definitely Practical Magic Fundamentals. But no matter how I looked at her, she wasn't in any shape to teach.
"The lecture... I have to..."
"You should just rest in that state. We'll hand out the notes I organized last time and make it self-study."
No one would bat an eye if she took the day off for that, but the fact that she'd pushed herself to come in anyway showed just how diligent she was. Though she'd finally collapsed from it.
"Sorry... Is it okay if I ask you to?"
"That's what teaching assistants are for."
"You're not technically a TA; you were assigned as the military band liaison..."
"Doesn't matter—your official title is TA. I'll let the other professors know, so just head home and rest up."
With that, Yael didn't protest further and staggered to her feet. Normally, her personality would have her politely refuse once or twice out of courtesy, but accepting so readily meant she was really hurting.
"......"
Come to think of it, today's lesson happened to be on circle opening. What a coincidence.
I checked the materials on Yael's desk while that thought crossed my mind. The scrolls we'd organized together. But what was drawn on them wasn't a simple magic circle.
It was a magic circle designed for elevating a mage's realm by one step—a circle opening ritual. Sorted by circle level.
I carefully stacked them without mixing any up. With our class size, piling them all together made for a pretty tall stack.
Hmm, taller than Her Highness the Crown Princess, at least.
To keep the balance from shifting, I wrapped them in aura and lifted the bundle. First period anyway, so dropping them off early should be fine. These weren't elementary school kids who'd poke at them out of curiosity, right?
"Whoa! That's a ton! What's with all the paper... Ah. It collapsed!"
...Or not?
Just then, some voice echoed in my head. Why was it so easy to imagine?
I pondered in that position for a moment before setting the scrolls back down beside the desk.
Well... what if an earthquake hit and they all toppled? Better to keep watch until class started.
It wasn't that I didn't trust my students. Absolutely not.
"Oh, Lieutenant. Early as always. Those the lecture materials for today?"
"Yes."
"Where's Captain Yael?"
"That day."
"Ah."
I chatted like that with the other professors, passing the time until class was about to start. Those with first-period lectures, like me, got up and ready. I hoisted the hefty stack and left the office.
Maybe because I was carrying this ridiculous pile of paper, the passing students kept glancing my way.
"Huh? What's that, teach?"
"Materials for today's lecture."
"Isn't it heavy?"
"Not really... but could you hold the door?"
Of course, they only stared from afar. The only one who actually approached was Riley.
Well, it wasn't like she was the only one keeping her distance from me specifically. Who casually chats up a professor without a real reason? Especially not in this pre-modern society with strict hierarchies, at a military academy where soldiers doubled as faculty.
...Enough mental gymnastics. Time to slip through the door Riley was holding.
As I entered the classroom with the massive bundle, it went dead silent in an instant. Soon, the deep chime signaling the start of class rang out.
I separated the scrolls by circle while scanning the students. Most were shooting curious glances my way. Probably because Captain Yael—who'd never been late once—was still nowhere to be seen.
"Captain Yael is under the weather and taking the day off. We'll distribute the materials and make this self-study. Feel free to leave once you have yours."
I straightened the papers with a tap and addressed their unspoken questions. No one showed it openly, but plenty seemed quietly pleased. Of course—who hates a canceled class? Not a real college student, that's for sure.
"Anyway, these are the materials. As announced last lecture, today was supposed to cover circle opening. Review them thoroughly at home—I recommend it."
I said that and looked around at the students.
"I've prepared them according to individual levels, so come up in order to get yours. First..."
A light breath, then I continued.
"Students who haven't reached menarche yet, please stand."
I licked my lips for no reason after saying it.
...My own words, but they sounded like utter madness. Gotta clarify up front.
Not that I was some evil creep trying to weed out underaged girls or anything. People in this world were basically ageless anime idols conceptually—no bathroom needs or anything.
...Somehow bladder function remained, but that was the Creator's kink, probably.
These were full adults by Korean standards, and with a dozen or so standing, anyone could tell it wasn't that meaning.
Not first period as in menstruation, but first realm—No Circle mages who hadn't opened even their 1st Circle yet.
Why not just call them 0-Circle? I wanted to, but apparently "0-Circle" and "pre-menarche" were academically distinct...
Anyway, circle opening was a crucial part of magic. You could only cast spells up to the circles you'd opened yourself.
"The diagram on the first page is the ritual circle to begin the circle opening ceremony."
Starting the ritual was simple. At sunrise, visualize the ritual circle in your mind just like any other spell.
Of course, the circle itself was pretty intricate. And it only got worse with higher circles.
But the real challenge came next. If you successfully drew the right circle at the right time, another image would emerge in your mind—far more complex than the initial one. And yes, it got exponentially weirder with higher circles.
Like a labyrinth or puzzle made of intricate 3D—or even 4D—shapes? You had to delicately manipulate mana to "solve" it. Success completed the opening.
That was the circle opening ritual—or menstruation (monthly realm), physiology (creating the principle within oneself).
But most attempts failed.
"If the initial circle collapses: failure. If the emerging circle's shape collapses: failure. If mana flows wrong: failure. Taking too long: failure."
Like perfectly constructing a complex 3D shape in your head, then solving the even more complex puzzle built on it. Brain-melting stuff.
"From the second page, you'll find documented variations of these circles and rough solutions. I recommend memorizing at least 70% before attempting."
And the puzzles randomized every time. Up to 4th Circle, nearly all cases were researched, so focus and memory could brute-force it... but honestly, it's inhuman.
I'd only recently hit 5th Circle myself.
"Failure means waiting a month—exactly four weeks—for the next shot. Plus a penalty that tanks your condition, varying by person."
Simple logic: botch a cultivation session raising your realm, and of course you'd suffer qi deviation.
Not full-blown health issues, but bad cramps? You'd end up like Captain Yael, moaning in agony.
Still, mages couldn't abandon circle opening. Even cramp-riddled Yael pushed through.
Barring the rare few who gave up advancement, most mages tried every 28 days.
High difficulty plus luck meant maximizing attempts by minimizing cycles was rational. Hence monthly realm—the mage's most important day, the Magic Day.
Most failed, so it was also the day moods soured most. Physically wrecked, plus the stress of wasting a month's shot.
Thus, many slumped or got snappy on the day—or for days after.
...Tch, talking about it makes me miss Senior Shtain.
If cramps hit then, it'd be jackpot...
Of course, I kept my face neutral and handed out materials one by one.
Nearly everyone had theirs... and I picked up the thickest bundle left.
"Saki Barina."
"Yes."
The Union princess rose slowly at my call, drawing awed stares as expected. The academy's records pegged her as the sole 3rd Circle mage in our first-years.
She strode forward confidently under the attention.
"I figured a princess like you would need this much... but Captain Yael added tips, so it might help to skim."
"Thank you. My next one's next week, conveniently."
"Is that so? Best wishes for success."
This was the only 4th Circle material in our prep. Saki smiled brightly as she took it... then glanced at the lectern and froze, expression blank.
Like she couldn't believe her eyes.
I gave her a quick look before speaking again.
"Beni."
"Y-Yes? Coming...!"
Silence blanketed the room.
Saki's dawning realization spread to every student as they spotted the remaining stack.
The slightly petite girl shot to her feet. Round glasses hid wide, trembling eyes full of nerves.
"Don't panic at the thinner stack. 5th Circle openings can't be fully mapped—it's just the key circles you must memorize."
My words nailed it home for those still in denial. No one this far in was dumb enough to miss the implication.
"...For real?"
A dazed murmur echoed faintly in the quiet classroom.