A Flower Blooming in the Plague, Part 2
The fury of the heavy snowfall had finally subsided. By the time the thick drifts of snow melted under the steam of magic-lamp oil and washed down the sewers, a conversation was taking place in the upper districts.
"You expected to master the concept of exception handling in a mere fortnight?"
Schmidt, the private tutor of the Baron Nihilit household, adjusted his monocle as he spoke.
"Lady Freya. That was only possible because it was Young Master Julian."
Schmidt shook his head from side to side. Even at its most basic level, the concept of exception handling was by no means easy. The formulas alone numbered thirty. Simply committing them to memory so thoroughly that one could recite them on command took at least a month of rigorous study.
But the true difficulty of this concept only began after the formulas were memorized.
"To test how well you have grasped the concept, let me ask you this. Suppose an enemy and your ally are currently clashing swords. You are standing roughly forty-five paces away from them. In this scenario, if you wish to cast a fire spell, which exception handling formula would you employ?"
"Pardon? Um... wouldn't I use Formula Four, which designates the area of effect?"
"If you use Formula Four, the spell will be neutralized the moment the enemy ducks behind your ally."
"Oh, uh, then..."
This was the core of the problem. 'Memorizing a formula' and 'mastering a concept' belonged to entirely different realms. While memorizing the formulas could be achieved in a month, learning which one to apply in the heat of battle took vastly longer.
"If I combine Formula One and Formula Four..."
"Your casting time would double, and the two conditional clauses would contradict each other, causing the spell to fizzle."
"H-Heeeh..."
Under Schmidt's ruthless rejection, Freya's eyes spun in circles. It was far too harsh a question for a girl who had just turned twelve.
"Sigh..." The tutor let out a heavy sigh. "Do not be too disheartened, my lady. Even those hailed as prodigies usually take three months just to take their first steps in this field."
"B-But... my brother managed it in just four days..."
"We must treat him as an exception." Schmidt smiled bitterly as he recalled his former pupil. "There is no need to copy the young master. In the end, finishing the race is far more important than running it quickly."
Julian. He was a painful subject for Schmidt as well. A genius who had conquered a three-year curriculum in a mere three months—one whose intellect could easily rival that of a Great Sage. What if he had possessed the talent of a Mage as well? Even now, a year later, Schmidt still thought the gods were terribly cruel. It would have been less tragic if they hadn't bestowed upon him that pathetic, twilight-firefly-like mana sensitivity.
"Therefore, my lady," Schmidt said, adjusting his monocle once more as he gently coaxed Freya. "If you push yourself like this so early on, you will only burn out later. Your current pace is already comparable to any genius, so there is no need to be so impatient."
"But I want to be able to cast magic quickly too!"
"Why is that? Do you have a particular reason?"
"It's not a special reason, it's just... I want to follow my brother, just like Erika..."
"Pardon?"
"Ah, it's nothing."
She wanted to follow Julian down into the Limbus Pit. The way he went down there to help those in need felt to her like the tales of the heroes she so admired. Above all, she simply enjoyed learning new things by Julian's side every single day.
But recalling her mother's words, she cut herself off.
— "Freya. Keep it a secret from other noble families that your brother Julian goes down there."
— "Why?"
— "They would likely point fingers at him."
— "Why would they point fingers when he's doing something good? Are they jealous?"
— "Hmm... Jealousy... Yes, perhaps you could look at it that way."
Freya looked up at her tutor. She had heard that he was the third son of some count. Of course, she didn't think Schmidt would ever point fingers at Julian. Still, rumors might spread among the nobility because of it. Thus, Freya hastily corrected herself.
"I just... thought that since my brother did it, I could do it too."
Schmidt smiled warmly at her response. He found the competitive spirit typical of a twelve-year-old quite endearing.
"It is quite alright, my lady. Since you are the young master's sister, you will surely catch up to him even without rushing."
At the tutor's words, Freya briefly recalled the fact that she and Julian did not share a single drop of blood, but she did not voice it. Because right now, that didn't matter at all.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
"Yes, Teacher!"
Freya nodded vigorously and gripped her quill tightly. Even if they were strangers without a single drop of shared blood, to her, Julian was the most wonderful, magnificent brother in the entire world.
Around the time Freya was having her lesson with Mr. Schmidt, I had returned to the Limbus Pit for the first time in a while and was having a hectic day. Perhaps because the heavy snow had just stopped, a massive backlog of patients rushed in all at once.
Still, it's better than last year. Thanks to Eri.
In a situation like this, Eri's presence was incredibly helpful. Having her filter out the patients with bone marrow issues made my job much easier. Once the morning consultations were over, we took a brief lunch break.
"Si jaco ∈ {socii}, tunc damnum → 0... No, wait. Does 'Si jaco' come first, or does 'objectum' come first...?"
In a private room of the Pufferfish Amulet, while waiting for our food to arrive, Eri was staring intently at a scrap of paper, muttering to herself.
Si jaco ∈ {socii}, tunc damnum → 0...
Si objectum.signum = protectum...
"Si objectum.signum = protectum... Wait, was there a comma here? Or not? Ah, I don't know!"
Finally reaching her limit, Eri clutched her head and collapsed onto the table.
"Seriously, I barely just learned how to read! How am I supposed to memorize thirty of these formulas?!"
Over the past two weeks, unlike Freya, who had managed to memorize most of the thirty formulas, Eri had only mastered fifteen. Part of it was because she had only recently become literate, but the main issue was that she had never developed the habit of sitting still for long periods.
"Ah, whatever! I'm taking a break! Teacher! I'll go do delivery duty—"
"You're not a messenger anymore. Act like an assistant and go back to the duty room to study."
"Whoa, you startled me! Teacher, when did you get here?"
"Right around the time you said 'Si jaco' instead of 'Si jactor'."
Even those fifteen formulas were only learned because I had practically forced her to sit down. I glanced at the scrap of paper in Eri's hand. Admittedly, even though I had already memorized them, they were formulas I never wanted to look at again.
But as a protagonist playing the role of a genius, there was a line I absolutely had to deliver.
"Is that really so difficult...?"
"I'm not a genius like you, Teacher!" Eri grumbled, letting go of her hair.
Ignoring her complaints, I sipped my pre-meal tea and corrected the typos on her cheat sheet.
Creak—
Just then, the door to our private room opened with the sound of rusting hinges.
"Teacher. I heard you came by for a meal, so I came to pay my respects."
"It's been a while, Wangcho. How are your toes?"
"Heheh... I suffered a bit during the heavy snow."
"I told you to cut back on the alcohol and meat."
At that moment, Eri chimed in.
"Wangcho is a hyena beastman. Do you really think it makes sense for a hyena beastman not to eat meat, Teacher?"
"I clearly told him he could substitute it with rabbit meat or duck eggs, and that he should distill his beer before drinking it."
As if I hadn't already taken that into account. At my retort, Eri, who had been trying to defend Wangcho, shut her mouth. Feeling awkward, Wangcho blatantly changed the subject.
"Ah, buddy. Did your face heal up well?"
He waved at Otto, who was sitting silently in the corner of the room like a ghost. Otto's face, which had been covered in horrific scars right before we left the Limbus Pit, was now completely clean.
"Man, those priests from the upper district sure have incredible skills. I thought scars like that would last a lifetime, but there's not even a trace left."
"It is entirely thanks to Dr. Schnabel." Otto glanced in my direction. "They said the first aid was performed flawlessly. Thanks to that, even low-level healing magic was enough to fully restore it."
Heh. Of course.
Fitting for a world with complex magic, even divine magic here operated on intricate principles. The deeper, dirtier, and more poorly treated a wound was, the more holy power and effort were required to heal it, scaling exponentially. But in Otto's case, thanks to my artistic wound management, he was able to recover without any issues.
Say what you want, but I am a trauma surgeon.
While I relied on the classic "misunderstanding protagonist" cheat codes for obstetrics, pediatrics, and internal medicine, trauma surgery was entirely my own genuine skill. So, even though it was the healing priests who actually cast the spells on Otto, I felt I deserved at least thirty percent of the credit.
...Tsk. It would be nice if I could use healing magic too. Too bad my complete lack of faith is holding me back.
Anyway.
"Oh, that's the longest I've ever heard you speak, buddy."
"..."
"Ayy, look at him shutting his mouth tight again." Wangcho chuckled, patting Otto on the shoulder. Otto didn't brush his hand away in annoyance, but he simply stared out the window with his trademark stoic expression.
"Jokes aside." Wangcho slumped into the chair opposite me, dropping his usual sly grin. I stiffened my expression in response, though it was pointless since I was wearing my crow mask.
"Teacher. Please be careful when you walk these streets for the time being."
"Has something happened?"
"It just so happens that this year is Ghoul Season."
Ah, now that I think about it, he's right.
There was a peculiar season in the Limbus Pit. Roughly once every three to four years, immediately after a heavy snowfall melted, the natural spawn rate of the undead in the Limbus Pit would spike exponentially. Since the underlying principle happened to be relevant to what Eri needed to learn, I questioned her.
"Eri. Do you know why ghouls run rampant in the Limbus Pit once every four years?"
"Well, they're already starving and miserable, and then they freeze to death—"
"Eri, watch your language."
For a mage, language is life. Scientific knowledge is important, but vocabulary is no less crucial.
"...They say ghosts of people who starved or froze to death have the strongest grudges. Isn't it because of that?"
"That is a layman's perspective. You are currently in the process of becoming a Mage."
Mage. At that word, Wangcho's eyes widened as he stared at Eri, but I ignored him and continued.
"Can you explain it in magical terms?"
"...I never learned that."
"You mean you didn't bother to remember." I roughly ruffled Eri's hair and jogged her memory. "Now, Eri. What are the five elements required to cast magic?"
"Formula, incantation, catalyst, mana, and... uh... what was it?"
"Symbolism."
Symbolism was of paramount importance in magic. Of course, the other four were necessary too, but that wasn't the point right now.
"A ghoul absolutely requires the symbolic concept of 'a death untouched by the gaze of the gods.' That is why ghouls do not naturally rise from corpses in public cemeteries where proper funerals or requiems have been held."
Unless, of course, some lunatic black mage performed a ritual to desecrate the dead.
"For this reason, ghouls frequently manifest in slums or battlefields. In those places, no one mourns or prays for the deceased."
This was why the Limbus Pit's Ghoul Season occurred once every four years, right after a heavy snowfall.
"The accumulated symbolism of desecration finally erupts. Using the frozen, preserved corpses as catalysts, they react with the stagnant mana lingering in the city's smog to spawn ghouls."
Even so, four years was an improvement. Before I arrived, Ghoul Season used to happen every two years. Thanks to the mortality rate plummeting after my arrival, D-Sector at least had managed to push it to a four-year cycle. I heard that other sectors were still struggling with ghouls every two years.
"But Teacher, there's something weird."
"Go on."
"If there's no formula and no incantation, why do they spawn naturally?"
"Formulas and incantations were never strictly mandatory for magic to manifest."
A formula is merely a framework used to shape and trigger magic at a caster's desired time and in their desired form. Therefore, the absence of a formula does not prevent magic from manifesting. It simply means the magic will erupt wildly on its own. Similarly, incantations are not essential. You can think of an incantation as a process of bargaining with the world to compensate for a lack of symbolism, catalysts, or mana. In other words, if the symbolism, catalyst, and mana are abundant enough, neither incantations nor formulas are necessary.
"Though, of course, a human needs both to cast magic."
Unlike vast nature, where everything is abundant, humans lack sufficient mana, symbolism, and catalysts, making those two elements practically mandatory for us.
"Now, do you understand?"
"Sort of."
"I didn't understand a single word."
I ignored Wangcho as he shrugged his shoulders. In any case, his point was that Ghoul Season had finally returned to D-Sector after four years.
Tsk. If I had done just a slightly better job, I probably could have pushed it to five years.
As I indulged in these thoughts, the silent Otto spoke up to Wangcho.
"...Do we not need to go up this time?"
"Oh, buddy. Don't tell me you're scared because of what happened last time?"
Click. Otto silently cocked the hammer of his revolver.
Wangcho recoiled in disgust and quickly answered.
"Geez, can't even take a joke."
"..."
"Fine, fine. I'll just answer your question. You asked if we need to go up to the surface, right?"
A nod.
"No need. How strong could a bunch of ghouls even be? What can a bunch of corpses that starved and froze to death do once they get back up?"
Wangcho was right. Unlike ghouls from a battlefield, slum ghouls were incredibly weak. Frankly, even if a whole horde of them showed up, Otto could probably just run them over with the carriage.
"The original bodies are just too weak. Unless some superhuman died and their corpse turned into a ghoul, it's not dangerous at all. So just relax and eat your food, buddy."
"..."
The moment I heard Wangcho's words, a thought flashed through my mind.
Well, if that isn't the most spectacularly reassuring death flag I've ever heard...