What is Magic?
Deep into the night. It was around midnight when everyone else had fallen asleep, but the imperial mage Laila was deep in meditation.
Her growth was as swift as the title of publicly acknowledged genius mage warranted. Just five years after first stepping into the world of magic, she had become a court mage, and through unwavering dedication, she had now reached the realm of the 5th Circle. At barely her mid-twenties, this level of achievement stemmed not just from innate genius, but from bone-grinding effort. Her average sleep? Three hours. Without that kind of grind, no one could climb this high at her age.
Today was no different—Laila immersed herself in magic. She practiced mana breathing while endlessly pondering her mana circuits, and lately, she'd seen some promising results. But then war had erupted in the north, and she'd been appointed a field mage, dispatched all the way to Viscount Aron's territory.
There were all sorts of nasty rumors about Viscount Aron, but watching him up close—dispensing benevolence to the common folk—had eased her fears of him defiling her. Rumors really couldn't be trusted, after all. He only acted like a bastard toward nobles and knights, the ruling class. He didn't go around ripping people apart willy-nilly like the tales claimed. And the lecher rumors? She'd heard no tales of him actually laying hands on anyone, so she carried on with her routine, skimping on sleep for practice.
Knock knock.
The rapping at her door snapped her eyes open. As the most skilled among the imperial field mages—and their de facto leader—she lodged in the VIP quarters. What could this be at this hour?
"Come in."
"Lady Laila, the Viscount requests your presence."
"At this hour?"
"W-well... the Viscount seems to have had some kind of enlightenment, so he urgently called for the mage."
The maid's face looked oddly uneasy.
'Could the rumors be true after all?'
She tilted her head. If Aron intended rape, he wouldn't summon her so politely. With his monstrous strength, he'd just barge in.
"Did he say it was important?"
"Something to do with magic."
"Magic, huh."
Even more unbelievable. Officially, Viscount Aron was confirmed at Master level as a warrior. Learning magic on top of that? Magic swordsmen existed, sure, but their hallmark was mediocrity in both fields. Aron was already a Master in martial arts—why ask about magic now? Something smelled fishy.
"No helping it. Let's go."
"Thank you!"
When the commander called for something important, she had no real right to refuse. Field mages had some leeway, but not against a direct summons from the top.
Arriving at the lord's chambers, she saw Viscount Aron lost in thought.
"Commander?"
"You're here. Sit."
"......"
No red flags yet, so she sat across from him. He looked at her and grinned.
"Told 'em to fetch the prettiest mage, and they brought Laila, huh?"
Laila shot a glare at the maid, who bowed hastily and fled the room.
'Prettiest mage? What weird tastes.'
If he planned to assault her, she wouldn't go down without a fight. Just in case, she began gathering mana—but Aron stopped her.
"If I meant harm, it'd be done already. Damn rumors got twisted. I date a girl, and suddenly I'm some sex demon."
Viscount Aron sighed. With his looks, rape made no sense. Noble ladies had surely dated him, lost their purity, and their families spread shit when they flipped out. She knew how vicious noble society could be. He seemed wild, but only targeted nobles. If they all ganged up badmouthing him, bad rumors empire-wide weren't surprising.
"Even so, summoning a female mage at night invites misunderstandings."
"I know, but... what can ya do? Magic just clicked for me outta nowhere."
"...Pardon?"
Laila's brow furrowed. What nonsense was this? Calling a mage on a whim that he could use magic?
"Precisely: I formed a circle, but can't cast spells. Called you to teach me."
"What are you saying? You formed a circle but don't know spells?"
"Never touched 'em before."
She bristled. Was magic a joke? Circles didn't just pop up, nor did spells. Talented folks bled for years to become mages. Mages overflowed with pride for it. As their leader, Laila felt the same.
"War's at our doorstep. Magic would help big time. Humor me—teach me once?"
Her voice chilled further.
"Magic isn't a game."
"Not joking."
"No talent? Quit now."
"And if I cast today?"
"Hmph. Then whatever you want."
"Deal. Keep that promise."
An unexpected bet with Laila. She was an imperial mage; the Emperor sent her despite no need, so he'd let her tag along. Thoughtless then, but with his sudden circle? Smart move bringing her. Vivian sure delivers. Generously etched a heart-circle and cleared his mana circuits. He wasn't a magic expert, but those four rings screamed 4th Circle access. Couldn't rush higher? Nah—gods' shop and potions could fix that sans training. Same for learning: master 1st Circle for karma cost. If he had talent, he'd save karma. Protagonist perks should cover it.
Mahadev, who'd been watching him, spewed more lunacy.
He'd never planned rape anyway. Even without Demeter's threats, it wasn't his kink.
Time to learn magic.
"I know zilch about magic. Teach like I'm a total newbie. One hour—if no dice, I quit."
"Ha... unbelievable. I can't stand people mocking magic!"
"Hey, we bet. Back out now, you'll regret it later."
"Even 1st Circle takes a month! Geniuses don't instant-cast!"
"Fine, basics quick."
"Tch!"
She started: What mana is, sensing/gathering it. He cut her off—knew that. Just needed casting principles. Circle and circuits? Check. About thirty minutes in, he summed it up.
"So, mental force moves heart-mana to shape external mana, then launch as desired?"
"In a nutshell, yes."
"Magic Missile principle?"
"Compress and hurl wind element. Basics."
"Sweet! To the training grounds."
"That easy?!"
"Probably. Wonder what to make her do. Heh."
"Magic ain't easy—you never listen."
"Shut up and follow. One more word like that, you might wish to be my slave."
"......"
She finally clammed up. Treat 'em too nice, they climb. Used to rip women apart too, but current headspace? Nah. Push too far, though, who knows.
The knights' training yard drizzled under the massive firebird overhead.
Her disdain had cooled, but skepticism lingered.
"...Come to think, Viscount—you command top spirits? Master fist arts, wield Aura Blade. Spirit user and warrior. Magic swordsman on top feasible?"
"One more, and you're hit. Want training too?"
"N-no, not that."
She knew training's reality—shrank at half-crippled baron's sight. Good.
Protagonist trash baked in; rile him more, unpredictable.
'Move the mana.'
Mental push—circle mana stirred. Imagined shaping/compressing wind mana. Mystical flow under will.
Krunch!
Massive air compressed. Glanced—Laila's eyes bugged out.
Hurled at straw dummy.
BOOM!
"Gah! Insane! Impossible!"
She shrieked. Magic easier than thought? Protagonist buff? 4th Circle seemed doable sans sweat.
Mental mana control. External shaping. Master those, cast mid-swordplay or fists.
Dummy shredded; thunderstruck knights rushed out first.
He turned to Laila.
"Eek!"
"Laila, you mocked and bet—time to pay up."
She trembled. Mages rarely broke promises or lied—fouls mana. Lots of weirdos from it, but they stuck to word. Laila too. Breaking with protagonist? Mana taint plus divine smite from watcher gods.
Her voice quavered low.
"Wh-what do you want?"