Tower in Ruins
How much time had passed since the natural disaster struck? Or was time even passing at all?
The audience in the grand auditorium watched Ruen's lecture in their own ways.
One person simply let out an exclamation of awe.
He gazed with fascination at the magic unfolding on the stage from the girl.
He was a student just entering his final year in the rhetoric department.
Another. A professor teaching elemental magic. His mouth hung open.
Drool slipped past his parted lips amid his ragged breaths, unstopped.
He stared endlessly at Ruen and her magic.
But his gaze stretched beyond, to somewhere far off.
For just under half the audience, Ruen's lecture was merely intriguing.
They had come out of simple curiosity about this lecturer named Ruen.
Their impressions were straightforward.
I've seen mana for the first time in my life. It's beautiful.
And the magic that girl is weaving—what about that? Utterly beautiful.
Beyond expectations. So this is what magic studies are like.
They drew inspiration—whether knight trainees or artists.
But.
"Hah……."
"To think……."
To those connected to magic, the scene appeared entirely different.
Like a natural disaster.
A storm raged right before their eyes.
A tempest so fierce it swept up everything they knew.
The girl, Ruen, snapped her fingers. Or sometimes just paced the stage.
Mana swirled and gathered with every tiny gesture from her small frame.
She received the full, loving embrace of mana.
How is that even possible?
Everything before them escaped their understanding. Yet Ruen's lecture was kind.
"So, what this means is……."
She explained the reasons for her actions. Every stroke of the magic circle she drew. Her very method of handling mana.
She laid it all out leisurely.
So kind it felt like it would shatter them.
"……."
Belias sat in the front row, among the professors' seats.
He simply watched the lecture in silence.
Belias had been an orphan. From a generation caught in the wars.
The previous Magic Tower Master had taken him in as a child, recognizing his talent early.
The only reason he survived the great chaos. The golden Magic Tower.
Thus, the Tower was his everything.
"This is why magic is profoundly personal."
But the girl on stage denied its very purpose.
Why did the Magic Tower take the form of a 'tower'?
The answer was simple. Every mage built their own tower within their heart.
Each brick was knowledge.
Knowledge and experience, and convictions too.
And the towers of knowledge thus built were shared. Supplemented together, piled higher.
A place where the labors of one became the foundation for many.
That was the Magic Tower's reason for being.
A grinding sound echoed as Belias clenched his teeth hard enough to crack them. Tears streamed from his eyes.
It was pain. But not physical.
His heart was crumbling. The tower of knowledge, built over long years, swept away by the storm.
The girl spoke. Gave examples, explained.
Magic was personal. Projecting one's own experiences onto the world—that was magic.
Every word directly contradicted Belias's convictions.
But because he too was a mage.
"Tower Master……."
He was convinced. The explanations forced themselves into his mind.
He muttered to himself endlessly, tears flowing.
With his own hands, he tore down his tower—the one shared by the previous Tower Master.
"This uses the laws of ■■■■ and ■■■—"
Ruen rattled off incomprehensible formulas as she displayed her magic in the grand auditorium.
A process that defied all conventions.
Yet the magic she manifested existed so naturally in the world.
The girl declared: Magic was simply walking one's own path.
Understanding the world selfishly, then imposing one's will upon it.
Arrogant indeed. All the more reason it resonated so deeply.
She was making that arrogance real.
"Hoo……."
Ruen, who had spoken without pause, caught her breath for a moment.
In that time, Belias wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
As he dried his tears, he reflected on old memories.
He had seen true geniuses his whole life.
The previous Tower Master, the current one, the guardian of the Free Cities Alliance 'Okeanos'.
Those who walked the path of mastering magic. True mages.
The foundation of their strength was magic. That was their only commonality.
They all followed the path of mana. Yet the magic they wielded differed.
Their personalities were each eccentric, arrogant, selfish.
Why was that?
Hubris? Simply heaven-sent genius?
"Ha, hah……."
Belias now understood, at least a little.
"They gaze only at their own world……."
Where a sturdy tower had once stood firm in his heart, only ruins remained.
He sifted through the debris. Salvaged what he could, wove it anew.
The process of reconstruction.
In his twilight years. Only now laying a new foundation.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Is it over…?
Throughout the lecture, she'd been sneaking glances at the clock. It finally struck the hour.
She'd meant to stick to safe, general topics.
But around the 30-minute mark, she'd run out of those and dragged out her personal knowledge too.
The world she'd originally lived in had no 'magic' or 'mana'.
But becoming 'Ruen' let her sense mana for the first time.
Naturally, she grasped the laws of magic.
In the end, the magic she created drew on knowledge unknown to this world.
She, Kian, Uriel—all used mana, but each in their own way.
Thus her conclusion.
Magic is personal.
With her modern knowledge, she could create such spells.
So surely the opposite existed too.
"Ahem."
She cleared her throat and surveyed the seats before her.
The lecture had begun with not a single empty spot.
And it ended the same.
With the audience before her, she nodded deeply.
"Time's up already."
'Already' was a lie. It had felt endlessly long. "Regrettably, that concludes today's lecture."
Not regrettable at all.
She shot a glare at Chancellor Oswald, seated right in front of her—the culprit behind this ordeal. He grinned.
With that smile, Oswald rose from his seat.
Clap.
And met her eyes as he clapped.
Clap. Clap clap.
Kaira beside him, and the unnamed professor next, stood too.
Then the ones beside them, behind them.
Soon the applause rippled out like waves.
A thunderous roar filling the vast grand auditorium.
"Ooh……."
All the cheers and gazes turned to her.
Her body shivered pleasantly. A euphoric thrill.
She hadn't really taught much, had she?
Just filled time showing off magic nonstop?
Still… seems it went okay.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief inside.
Even so, her lips twitched upward on their own.
The prolonged applause gradually faded.
One by one, people trickled out, until only half remained.
Silence returned.
Some dazedly wiggled their fingers from their seats.
Others closed their eyes, murmuring low.
And most.
"Professor Ruen, that final incantation you showed……."
"Truly remarkable lecture. Ah, I'm Mordo, teaching basic swordsmanship."
They strode up to the podium, greeting her.
An endless stream of introductions and praise.
So…….
"Uh, yeah…. Later. Let's talk later……."
It was a bit much for her mentally.
All strangers. Embarrassment and pressure crashed over her.
She mumbled replies and floated her body into the air.
Below, the professors and students who'd surrounded her became crowns of heads.
Clear line of sight. A tall, wide window to the left.
In that moment, she recalled how she'd delivered letters to others.
Now, she was the letter.
—Crash!
She hurled herself straight at the glass.
Before the shards even hit the floor, she mended them all and streaked through the sky toward her dorm room.
"Agh……."
Seeing their startled reactions or stunned faces at her magic was fun.
But a mob outright swarming her with praise?
"Not easy……."
Heat flushed her cheeks unbidden.
She shook her head vigorously en route to the dorm office, trying to cool it.
"Next week's class should have fewer people, right…?"
All she'd said throughout was one thing, really.
Stuff like 'find your own path'.
"Should be fine, yeah?"
The academy was for learning from experienced professors.
So they probably wouldn't bother with hers.
…Probably.