The Librarian of Memories
Maness set the potion down beside the collapsed Boltman.
"Drink that."
"...That ominous purple hue makes it look like poison."
"You still have the energy to joke? It's a mana enhancement potion. It'll probably aid recovery too, so chug it down and let's wrap this up."
Boltman, trembling like an aspen leaf, barely managed to gulp down the contents. He let out an exclamation like he'd just downed a shot of strong liquor.
"But even with this, I doubt I can fill the magic circle."
"This time, we'll go about it backwards. It'll be way less strain on you too."
Maness placed his hand on the magic circle, and Boltman, watching, mirrored the pose. He wasn't just a klutz after all—he had some decent instincts.
"Alright, this time spread your mana evenly. Not like you're trying to fill the whole circle—just lightly coat it, like a thin veil."
"Lightly coat it, huh..."
"But your mana has to react across the entire circle. That's the only way we move on."
Watching Boltman manipulate just a trickle of mana—unlike before—Maness stood up.
"Keep practicing. I'll go handle some work and come back."
This time, no weird groans echoed, so he moved on with a lighter heart. Following the mana pathway stretching from the magic circle led him to one etched with plant motifs.
"This spot gets this..."
He pulled a glowing green potion from his pouch and poured it into the channel linking to the previous circle. That way, any mana flowing from the other side would infuse it with plant affinity, coloring the circle accordingly.
A method impossible without advanced alchemy. Maness inwardly thanked the pioneer alchemists as he hurried onward.
After finishing work on the fourth sector, he returned. Contrary to expectations of Boltman still groaning, the guy greeted him with a triumphant grin.
"Thank me, Maness! In the short time you were gone, I already mastered it."
"Oh yeah? Show me."
At the slightly mocking tone, Boltman struck the pose. Golden mana soon spread faintly, dyeing the entire circle without much delay.
It was real? Even Maness couldn't help but voice his admiration. His assessment of Boltman shot up vertically, settling at, 'Well, he learned Mana Bullet before enrollment, so he's got talent, I guess.'
"Perfect. Hold it steady."
Maness downed his remaining potion—the same mana-boosting one Boltman had taken. From here, it was all on his own skills.
"Hup!"
Unlike his friend injecting mana from the electric motif at the center, Maness pushed from the edges. Not illusion affinity, but pure mana, like for Mana Bullets. Deemed attribute-less and thus supreme for blending into others.
"Ooh..."
Boltman marveled as the golden mana coating the circle burned brighter. Maness's face, however, twisted in strain.
Plant, wind, fire, water—beyond the circle under his hand. He endured the world-warping sensation as mana raced ahead at breakneck speed.
Possible thanks to the potion. Without Elaine's mana booster, he'd have left empty-handed today. With this stroke of luck, he could breeze through. Clinging to that endless refrain, Maness gripped the last thread of sanity to the end.
Snap—
Crack—
The moment something mental snapped, Maness yanked his hand away in a flash.
Indiscernible if alive or dead, he gasped survival breaths in and out.
"Not dying, right? What the hell do we do now..."
Seizing his returning wits again, Maness waved Boltman off. After several ragged breaths to steady, he leaned against a tree to shake off the fatigue.
"Anything change?"
"Change? Heard some weird noise from over there."
At the desired reply, Maness finally exhaled in relief. The circle's glow persisting even after both hands off signaled success too.
Waiting for some stamina recovery, Maness brushed off and stood.
"That rune-covered spot from earlier? Probably the sound from there."
"Rune? What's that?"
"...Just follow."
Revising his Boltman rating downward again, Maness headed to the center of the five circles. Under the blazing sun, the clearing held not the rune rock, but an ornate door.
"This really the end now?"
Though he'd hitched a ride with Maness, Boltman teared up at the ordeal's close. Maness just found it exasperating.
"End? That'd be nice, but..."
Striding to the door, Maness gripped the handle and flung it open with force.
"Unfortunately, it's just beginning."
This time, the rascal stepped through first.
A space too vast to gauge. Walls entirely bookshelves, stuffed with thousands, tens of thousands of tomes. Some refused meek repose, flapping covers like butterfly wings to flit through the air.
"Wh-what is this place..."
Unlike speechless Boltman, Maness flashed a satisfied smile.
Library of Memories. Where world's traces lingered. Officially, accessible only to Magic Tower elders—an unknown realm.
"How are there so many books..."
Boltman whipped his head around, drinking in the surroundings. No bookworm or collector usually, but the overwhelming, antique aura mesmerized.
[Judging by your attire, Snowrobe students?]
A stern voice boomed in their heads. Intimidating, demanding the intruders' identities.
"Wh-who's there?!"
"Yes. From Snowrobe, as you said."
Unlike nearly toppling Boltman, Maness replied unfazed. The library keeper—just verifying uninvited guests, no malice. He knew that much.
[Blue necktie. First-years, then.]
Nodding while shoving an incoming book, Maness confirmed. The whole space felt alive.
[A student here is rare enough—first-year, no less... Hm?]
Maness had pegged the voice-only original librarian as mere system. Intrusion deterrent, greeter—like subtitles sans form.
...What?
Realizing otherwise took no time. Like Hiteri's teleport gadget, but wholly different—rippling, swirling. Indescribable spatial warp before him birthed an old man.
Not ordinary. Semi-transparent, not quite human, floating midair. But long hair to toes, chest-shaking beard, voluminous robe hinted at his living visage.
Ghost. Spirit. Maness, fresh from spirit realm, knew for sure.
[This one... not ordinary.]
The elder floated circles around them. Maness swallowed dryly, tense at the unforeseen. Not assuming game-like normalcy, but this extreme anomaly demanded observation first.
"What's up, Maness? Something around?"
Boltman blankly questioned, face puzzled. The reckless Maness tense-scanning? Voice in empty book-space scary, but no threat vibe, so relaxed.
The elder invisible to Boltman explained his reaction.
[Non-human scent on you—been to that other world, eh.]
"Yes."
[Your emanating mana far from ordinary too.]
"Mana? You mean this body's, future archmage's?"
[......]
Ignoring Boltman lightly, the elder halted before Maness. Face-to-face. Stern gaze softened to mischievous grin.
[And this... illusion affinity.]
Maness's tension melted at the unexpected.
[Kehahaha! To meet an illusion child. Wasted my days well with books, not dying! Wait, I did die!]
Boisterous laughter shattered the oppressive mood. Like a grandpa spinning tales. As if by magic, form and tone turned friendly instantly.
"Illusion...? What?"
[You're the electric child. Lightning—nice. Used to prank old warbuddies with it often.]
Maness marveled at the ghost appraising them sans action. Spirit realm visit, mana quantity, affinity—all discerned. Path here was wonders, but this topped.
Far beyond Night Crow exec Row. "May I ask a question?"
[Ask away, young mage. What can't I answer?]
"You said you already died..."
[Ah, yes. Flesh long bones now—antique relic.]
"Bones?"
Boltman's face paled, slow on uptake.
"G-ghost?!!"
[Indeed. Cruel, terrifying ghost.]
Maness pondered amid the elder's gruff prank. Attitude worlds from original—beyond stiff speech, even unseen. No mere cute kids excuse; original from Kyle's school days, with Iris and mage-path students.
"Might I have your name?"
Thus, Maness asked. Memory Library guardian. Old comrades rememberer. Illusion-talented welcomer. Dots connecting to one point.
[Asking forgotten old man's name—polite child.]
Not simple system, this ghost. Extraordinary.
[Retos Beneficus. That was it.]
One of Snowrobe's four founders. Prolific mentor, will-inheritor to the academy. Hero who saved humanity from ancient cataclysm, demon invasion.
"Retos? That's the classroom building..."
Slow Boltman aside, Maness grasped the elder's warmth. Magic world icon, endless praise-earner. Recalled one epithet.
Father of Illusion Magic.
Retos.
The young mage bowed to him.
"I greet the creator of illusion magic."