The Sword-Slinger Cracks the Secret of 6th-Tier Magic

The colosseum-shaped Main Arena was packed to bursting with people who had come to witness the lecture showcase of two Chair Professors.

As always, the Academy Principal stood before the VIP entrance, personally greeting the delegations arriving from every nation on the continent.

"Ah, the imperial delegation, is it? Welcome, welcome."

The Principal clapped the envoy on the shoulder with easy familiarity. The man looked utterly exhausted.

"Ah, good day to you…."

"The Empire's seats are on the third tier. Go right in."

"Yes…. Um, about that."

The imperial envoy fixed the Principal with bleary, haunted eyes and pleaded his case.

"Could you please, please give us at least two weeks' notice the next time something this big comes up? It was the same at the entrance festival. Because of Her Imperial Majesty, we're being worked half to death. If we fail to secure a single thing today, I'm a dead man walking—"

"Hahaha, that sounds like your problem, friend! The line's backing up—off you go!"

"Haaah…."

Arms hanging limp at his sides, the imperial envoy shuffled off toward the stands.

Professor Alencia's lecture showcase had been announced to the nations of the continent on extremely short notice, and even kingdoms with little interest in magic had burned through teleportation scrolls to dispatch envoys anyway.

This was the Sage of the Academy opening her first public lecture. A brand-new high-tier spell could very well tumble out of it.

The envoys were indispensable simply for mapping the political landscape—who would walk away with which new spell. A single novel spell could become a battlefield asset overnight.

The Magic State, in particular, had eyes blazing with hunger—they'd gone so far as to send a court mage belonging directly to the Council of Mages.

When the Principal caught sight of the pouches of gold coins they carried, his heart grew as warm and full as a summer harvest.

The general seating was packed without a single empty chair. Not a soul among Caesus Academy's faculty and students failed to understand what this showcase was worth.

The line had been forming since before dawn, and in the blink of an eye the Main Arena had reached full capacity.

"Betting's still open! Get your wagers in while you can!"

"Wager on what? No matter how you slice it, Professor Alencia wins this one."

"Not that. The other pool—guess the final auction price the lecture recordings sell for."

"Ooh, now that I'm in on."

The students were fired up in an entirely different sense. Almost none of them doubted Pelia Alencia's victory.

And it was to exactly those students that someone appeared, gold pouch in hand.

"Odds on the winner? What's the multiplier?"

"Huh? Professor Alencia's at 1.03 and Professor Pedia's at 16.8x. Why?"

"Everything on Professor Pedia."

Clatter.

More than ten gold coins and a fistful of silver poured out of the pouch.

At their head stood Marque and Xuehua, with the students of Earth Hall standing tall and defiant behind them.

"You serious? We don't return a single copper if you lose."

"Then do the settlement properly."

"Fine."

Just as the bookmaker handed over a mana-sealed promissory note, another student darted into the group.

"Ooh, put me down for Professor Pedia too! Two gold!"

Summoner Zion Ebelz wedged herself into the cluster in a rush.

"Aren't you Water Hall? You're not betting on Professor Alencia?"

"Hey, you lot should count yourselves lucky. If I'd known Professor Pedia was competing, I'd have transferred to Earth Hall. My mistake, honestly."

Marque shrugged, chest puffed out with pride.

The officiating priest bellowed through amplification magic. A massive whiteboard rose into the air above the arena floor, which had been arranged like a lecture hall.

The only people seated on the arena floor were the Principal, Professor Vande, and Professor Mulan Setanta. They alone would have the right to question the lecturers.

Pelia ascended the platform. The moment she breathed mana into the whiteboard, dense, intricate equations raced across its surface.

"So why is it that I've got a huge ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana pool and a boatload of magic circuits, and I can cast high-tier spells while you lot can't? Because you're scrubs, that's why! Raise your efficiency!"

Rapping her pointer against the equations, Pelia launched into her lecture.

Only after a long stretch of her brusque, unfriendly instruction did the Principal raise his hand.

"So in other words, [Tier of Magic = f(magic power)^n × mana], and you've expressed that f constant in closed form?"

"I've been explaining the f—the Alencia Constant—this whole time. Were you even listening? And depending on your magic circuit structure, the exponent deforms into a superstring waveform!"

"How fascinating. Applied to an individual, this might raise a mage's effective tier by a full rank or more, since it maximizes mana efficiency. You've known about this all by yourself until now? That's simply cruel."

Mulan nodded along thoughtfully. Pelia's presentation was nothing less than revolutionary—fully worthy of the title of Sage.

"You heard it, so fawn over me, you scrubs!"

Pelia finished her lecture. Thunderous applause crashed down. Her attitude may have been a disaster, but anyone with genuine knowledge of magic could recognize the greatness of what she had just taught.

"That opener is way too strong!"

"Isn't the match already decided?"

"Honestly, how does anyone beat that?"

The students with money on the line each muttered a comment. As the applause died and Pelia stepped down, the priest cried out.

Up the platform stairs walked the Slave Merchant, immaculate in a crisp suit.

Pelia's lecture was, undeniably, formidable.

A formula that raised mana efficiency, letting a caster deploy spells a full tier beyond their actual ability.

It could very well ignite a new paradigm for magic itself. Granted, it only worked for those capable of understanding the equations and internalizing them, so who knew how many people could actually use it.

"Professor, are you all right?"

asked Sersi, who would be assisting me during my lecture. I gave a light laugh.

"If anything, I'm relieved. I'm glad that's what we're up against."

"I suppose so!"

"Off I go."

I stepped toward the platform. Under ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the silence-warding spell, the stadium packed with thousands of people fell as quiet as the grave.

I straightened my back and stood tall.

Well then. Class is in session.

"Suppose you want to buy the Holy Sword, but you have exactly one gold coin to your name."

I drew a single gold coin from my pocket and turned to Sersi. She was holding a longsword.

It had come out of my Item Box. A price tag reading 3 gold coins hung from the hilt.

"There's a simple way around that."

I walked, unhurried, toward the seated Principal.

"Would you lend me one gold coin?"

"Uh, err…?"

The Principal floundered for a moment, but soon enough he cooperated, fishing a gold coin from his purse and handing it over.

"And Professor Vande as well."

"Hm? Of course!"

With three gold coins in hand, I walked back to Sersi and paid. The longsword was mine.

The audience wore blank, foolish expressions. Every face asked the same question: what on earth was he doing?

Just keep watching.

I took a seat beside the Principal.

"Principal. I had only one gold coin, yet I was able to purchase this longsword, priced at three. What method did I use?"

"You borrowed the coin from me and Professor Vande, didn't you."

"Exactly. 'Borrowing' is a means of obtaining what you cannot yet afford. So then—using the very method I just demonstrated, would you care to try purchasing that?"

"That thing?"

Sersi drew out the next sword. The Scorching Sword—a legendary weapon famed as the sharpest blade in existence.

Its price tag, however, read 1,000 gold coins.

"The Scorching Sword! Wait, one thousand gold? Surely no one here would lend that kind of money?"

"You're welcome to try, sir."

"Hmm… Professor Vande, any gold on you?"

"Hahaha! I hardly carry a thousand on hand, you know!"

"Then Professor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Pedia—what about you?"

I nodded, wrote [1,000] on a sheet of paper, signed it, and passed it to the Principal.

"There. I've lent you one thousand gold coins. Payable, however, in one year."

"What are you talking about?"

"This paper is one thousand gold coins. I hereby promise to pay one thousand gold coins to whoever presents it to me in one year's time. Therefore, it is worth exactly one thousand gold."

"You'll definitely make the exchange?"

"Absolutely. I am a Chair Professor—in one year, surely I'll have a thousand gold coins lying around to spare."

"Hm. There's… a certain logic to it."

Still frowning in puzzlement, the Principal used the paper he'd received from me to purchase the Scorching Sword from Sersi.

"And now you own the Scorching Sword. A truly powerful weapon. And—behold, one year has passed."

Sersi brought the paper back to me.

"Now I must pay you one thousand gold. Can you make good on it?"

"Yes."

I produced a fresh sheet of paper and wrote [1,000] on it as well.

I traded it for Sersi's paper. Then I tore up the [1,000] I had received.

"Hmm? What did you just do?"

"I paid you one thousand gold coins."

"No, that's— ah. I see. The new paper you wrote is worth one thousand gold all the same, so…."

"Precisely. The payment was made in full. And this new paper can still buy the Scorching Sword, or anything else you like."

"I… see…."

"Do you understand what just happened here?"

"Ahaha."

Mulan giggled behind her hand.

I explained.

"How many gold coins existed in this space at the start?"

"Three."

"And the strongest sword those three coins could buy outright?"

"The longsword."

"And yet you now hold the Scorching Sword, Principal. You've acquired power that should have been impossible. What did obtaining it require?"

"One thousand gold coins."

"Which means mining that much ore, minting the coins, and applying the seals and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana-work. And yet not a single gram of new gold was mined here today."

"Indeed. Well said."

"Then how, Principal, does the Scorching Sword sit in your hands right now?"

"Hmm. A thousand gold coins suddenly appeared in this space."

"Where did they appear from?"

"From you—"

"And where did I borrow this from?"

The Principal stared into space, thinking hard, then snapped his fingers.

"You borrowed it from the 'future'—one year from now!"

"Correct."

True to his reputation as a shrewd man, the Principal had arrived at precisely the answer I wanted, and instantly.

I rose from my seat.

"Borrowing from the future has enormous advantages. When the repayment comes due, you simply borrow from the future again and pay it off."

"When the payment is due, borrow from the future to make it, and repeat the cycle forever."

Mulan had grasped the principle as well.

"A remarkable theory, Professor Pedia, I'll grant you. But surely you said this would be a lecture on magic?"

I gave the Principal a small, easy smile.

"All the world's affairs—fundamentals and principles alike—run the same way."

I wrote on the whiteboard.

"…Wait. That line of reasoning—"

"Yes."

I delivered the conclusion.

"Borrow your mana from the future as well. Then, regardless of how much magic power you possess, you can cast high-tier spells."

"Impossible!"

"Let me show you the proof. First, I'll note in advance that my attainments reach a mere first tier, and that I am not even a mage—only a mage-user."

I turned to face the crowd.

The atmosphere had shifted completely from the start of the lecture.

Every face screamed the same unbearable curiosity—what would I show them next?

Well then. Time to live up to expectations.

I activated my skill.

'Slave Exploitation.'

Whoosh—!

Above my head, six orange magic circles rose into view, one after another.