The Big Picture (3)
Schwein ran his tongue over his drying lips and forced his expression under control.
Dynamic Mana Calculation.
The concept itself was hardly unfamiliar, and by no means difficult.
He himself had concluded long ago that the only solution to this spell was dynamic mana calculation in the first place.
But it took me two whole years just to reach that conclusion.
The standard approach was to try every case with a single mana value, and only after that failed to begin altering the value itself. That was the textbook method.
Which means…
This young mage had simulated every possible case in an instant.
Without a single note written down, purely in his head.
Even I am still only experimenting with two rounds of alteration.
The numbers Oscar had written down numbered four.
In other words, he was declaring that altering the mana value three times was the correct answer.
Of course, whether these mana values are actually valid will have to be tested separately later…
But the result of the test was unambiguous.
"Splendid. To think you'd hit upon the very concept of dynamic mana calculation."
"What a relief. I look forward to working with you."
As Oscar bowed his head humbly, Schwein added,
"However, you won't simply be a researcher—you'll be listed as a co-author on the paper we present at the White Night Festival."
"I'm sorry, what? Why?"
"Because the final problem on this exam was the very magic I'm currently researching."
At that, Oscar's face registered pure incomprehension.
Understandably so—that spell was really nothing special.
You're planning to present that at the White Night Festival? Why on earth?
When he cast a questioning glance at him, Schwein smiled gently.
"There's an old saying. An old book can become a new friend. Do you know what it means?"
"…That even an old book, when read again, can yield information newly interpreted or rediscovered through the values of the present day?"
"Exactly. The magic created by Oscar Sage, the 17th Tower Master, is of that same kind."
It had been remarkable even in its day, but now it was said that no other magic in existence could replace it.
At the very least, someone in the White Tower had judged it so.
"Sasha herself made that judgment. And she launched the delivery business the very next moment."
"…I'm sorry, what?"
Hearing this secret for the first time in his life, Oscar's eyes went wide.
"You mean to tell me our brat of a— no, our Tower Master looked at this spell and decided to start a delivery business?"
"That's right."
"…What about that spell possibly told her to do that?"
He genuinely could not understand it.
What about this magic had made her start a delivery operation—a money-draining deficit business of all things?
Schwein, watching Oscar's exasperated face with evident amusement, spoke up.
"As you know, humanity has only just now, after a long stretch of history, come to possess a continent covering 38% of the world's area and sea lanes covering 62%."
And yet, for all that long history, there remained a single domain not even 1% of which had ever been conquered.
With a soft smile, Schwein extended his index finger and pointed upward.
"The sky. What the Tower Master has her eye on is the sky itself—the sky road."
"…"
The sky road.
There was no way Oscar could fail to understand what that meant.
"So the plan is to build an airship."
"Precisely. And this magic will serve as the engine—the heart of the vessel."
"…"
Oscar, at a loss for words, felt his eyes sink dark and heavy.
Airship development is something I already tried myself.
The sky. The desire to conquer that vast, boundless domain had been passed down since ancient times.
Naturally, every magic tower had attempted it—and so had the Imperial household itself.
But he could state with certainty that not one of them had produced meaningful results.
"…As I understand it, airship operation was deemed far too inefficient and abandoned."
"Scholarly as ever. And that's precisely why the sky remains classified as uncharted territory."
Airships had been built many times over the course of history already.
The problem was that keeping one aloft required an astronomical quantity of mana.
"Twenty-three years ago, the Empire developed a giant airship that managed to stay above the clouds for roughly three minutes."
Oscar nodded along without showing much surprise.
After all, the supervisor of that project—codenamed 'Azure Sky'—had been none other than himself.
"And the amount of mana the Imperial household consumed for those three minutes of flight was…"
"Enough to light the entire capital, brightly, for a full month."
"Hm? Was that figure ever made public?"
"…I'd say it's roughly that order of magnitude."
"Ho! Genius really is a different breed!"
And it was just as he said—the Imperial family had abandoned the airship project for the simple reason that the numbers didn't add up.
He could still picture the Emperor's face, unable to hide his regret even as he gave the order to halt the project.
If the airship had been completed and could have been operated at a reasonable cost, we could have seized enormous high ground in the war against the demons.
But the project had failed, and he himself, as its supervisor, had felt that regret keenly.
The magic I created back then was this one, wasn't it.
A spell that generated a near-infinite stream of wind from a single infusion of mana.
By flatly contradicting the law of mana conservation, it was, in theory, a perpetual power source.
Which was why he had named it Ouroboros—a symbol of infinite cycles and eternity.
But the output of that spell was hopelessly insufficient for operating an airship.
No one knew that better than he did—the man who had spent countless sleepless nights researching it.
As a skeptical look crept across Oscar's face, Schwein chuckled.
"You've got the look of a man who's already declared it impossible."
"If I'm being honest… with the wind output this spell can produce, lifting a giant airship seems impossible."
"Heh, you're right. That's a lesson humanity learned through bitter failure 23 years ago. But circumstances have changed since then, haven't they."
"…Changed how?"
Tap, tap.
In lieu of an answer, Schwein tapped the magic lamp sitting on the desk.
After staring at it for a moment, Oscar found himself murmuring without meaning to.
"…Magic engineering."
"Correct. Just as Oscar Sage created a signature magic in that project, the Yellow Tower gleaned the seeds of magic engineering from it. That is why they achieved such brilliant development after the war ended."
Amplifying Ouroboros's insufficient output through magic engineering, and using that power to lift a ship?
Theoretically, it didn't look impossible at all. No—if anything, it would have been stranger for it not to work.
And magic engineering even has the concept of a battery.
What if you built a battery that could be charged by Ouroboros's wind?
And what if that battery could continuously amplify mana?
Then Ouroboros would become, in the truest sense, the mighty heart of an airship—an endless engine of power.
Oscar's expression shifted, and he asked,
"Does the Yellow Tower know about this research?"
"They will never find out. Above all, after the failure 23 years ago, they consider the very concept of airships a farce. That's why they've started developing a more 'realistic' means of transport instead."
"A realistic means of transport?"
"They call it a train, apparently. I hear they've already succeeded in trial runs—they seem to intend to bind the continent into one using an iron horse that can run without rest."
He didn't know exactly what form this 'train' took, but the Yellow Tower Master he knew was not the sort of person to pour herself into a venture destined to fail.
In other words, that train must also be a mode of transport capable of presenting humanity with a new paradigm.
But it won't be as good as the airship.
Only now did Oscar grasp the grand picture Sasha had been painting.
"…I see. So that's why she started the delivery business even while swallowing enormous losses. To monopolize the market."
"Exactly. Goods transport today relies solely on carriages and ships. People say things will change once trains spread, but the moment an airship-based delivery business begins, even trains will become relics of a bygone era overnight."
An airship moving at tremendous speed without regard for terrain could, quite literally, bind an entire continent together—and overwhelming power would naturally follow in its wake.
The airship would become a revolutionary existence that turned the very concepts of transport and war on their heads.
"To that end, we must first restore this magic completely. Shall we work together, with the goal of unveiling this project at the White Night Festival?"
"…If we're going to do that, why not aim a little higher?"
"What do you mean?"
"People will always prefer a tangible thing standing right before their eyes to an abstract concept."
In other words: rather than showing Ouroboros itself, it would be better to show the airship built upon it.
"Unveil a prototype airship at the White Night Festival. Make that your goal."
The research to restore Ouroboros with Elder Schwein proceeded at a breakneck pace.
Truthfully, it could hardly have been otherwise.
The mana values Oscar had written on the exam sheet were, without question, the correct answer.
"Unbelievable… how on earth is this working?"
Elder Schwein stared, entranced, at the spell unfolding before him, perfectly formed.
A magic shaped like a serpent—or perhaps a dragon—biting its own tail.
The fine particles of mana spewed forth by Ouroboros glittered brilliantly, like stars.
"…"
For a long while, he could not tear his eyes from that magic circle, which felt less like a spell than a work of art.
Joy and exhilaration, a faint sense of emptiness, and an immense satisfaction.
Schwein, feeling all of these at once, looked at the mage before him and thought:
'A lottery ticket,' they said—and it was no lie.
Worse yet, an absurd lottery ticket that kept drawing first prize, over and over.
From then on, carried by momentum, the two set to work refining the spell's shortcomings.
"Hmm. It seems the Wheeler equation we added to the formula is degrading the spell's output. Wouldn't you say?"
"You're right. But if we remove it, stability will drop dramatically. Given that the spell's purpose is to operate an airship, we should prioritize safety even if it costs us some output."
"Well said. Though if we're prioritizing stability, wouldn't it be better to restructure the entire matrix in parallel, even if the formula grows somewhat more complex?"
"Oh? That does sound better. Since we'll be integrating it with magic engineering in the end, there's no need to stubbornly cling to a serial structure like in the old days."
Elder Schwein had clearly spent long years researching and agonizing over Ouroboros and the airship.
He caught, with uncanny precision, the very points that Oscar—still unaccustomed to magic engineering—kept missing.
Thanks to that, the spell was completed a mere week after the research began.
"These past few days, a certain thought keeps occurring to me."
Schwein, gazing at the glowing magic circle, spoke with emotion in his voice.
"If I had never met you, could I have completed this research?"
"You would have."
That was no empty flattery.
Elder Schwein was a genius of theoretical magic in his own right.
Only—without him, there was no telling how long it would have taken.
"I thank you for saying so. And… I'm sorry."
Schwein went on, unable to meet his eyes.
"If the Yellow Tower learns of this research, they'll stop at nothing to block it. blinded by greed, I dragged you into this reckless affair. I don't know what to say."
"Oh, come on, Elder. I'm perfectly fine."
At Oscar's dismissive wave of the hand, Schwein's expression turned markedly grave.
"I think you're taking this situation far too lightly. For the sake of profit, they will not hesitate to stain their hands with blood."
"I know. But I really am fine with it."
Oscar shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms as he continued.
"The moment they learn of this research, the checks and sabotage will come pouring in. In the open, they'll file dozens of lawsuits on pretenses that won't hold water. And in the shadows, they won't hesitate to make attempts on the lives of the two of us."
"…And knowing all that, you say you're fine with it?"
Schwein stared straight into his eyes, as if searching for the true meaning behind the words.
So Oscar deliberately did not look away, and met that gaze head-on.
"Yes. If I go searching for reasons why I shouldn't do this—because I fear the Yellow Tower, because I'm fond of my life—then in the end I'll end up doing nothing at all. And that frightens me far more. To do nothing, and watch the White Tower spend its whole life unable to escape its present straits until nothing remains but an empty shell."
Life is an unbroken chain of conflict and competition.
There is no paradise anywhere for those who reject that cold, cruel law of nature and run from it.
The lower one bows one's head, the more certain it is that what the other side offers is not a warm hand, but a violent kick.
"We lacked the strength, and the Blue Tower took the potion market from us. Because we lacked strength, we handed the Red Tower our exclusive contract with the military, whole and untouched."
And now the situation was such that, for lack of strength, even conducting research of any kind required minding the Yellow Tower's mood.
Oscar raised his head and looked up at the spell shining like a field of stars.
"I believe this research will become the strength we need to stand against them."
"…"
In Schwein's silent gaze at Oscar, admiration and gratitude took root together.
A faint smile at his lips, he spoke.
"…It's a rather frustrating feeling, you know. As if you keep stealing every cool line for yourself."
"You don't need to say things like that, Elder—you're plenty impressive as you are."
"Kchuck. Why on earth did I never realize you were this entertaining a man?"
Schwein walked over to his desk, opened a locked drawer, and drew out a stack of documents.
"But I have my own pride to maintain. I can't leave you to look cool all by yourself."
"…What are all these?"
The dozens of pages were densely covered with formulas unfamiliar to Oscar.
Seeing his expression, Schwein grinned.
"There, now some humanity finally shows. These are materials related to manufacturing magic engineering batteries. Honestly, when you proposed unveiling the airship at the White Night Festival, I thought it impossible—but with the Ouroboros spell completed far faster than expected, it's only right we aim for it in earnest."
Schwein tapped the documents twice and declared:
"Leave the battery that interacts with Ouroboros to me. I'll complete it by any means necessary, so don't you worry."