Mei said that and plodded off.
As if she’d said nothing impressive.
As if she’d simply stated the obvious.
“...W-wait. Hold on, Mei.”
I went up to Mei and grabbed her shoulder.
“What was that just now? Dragon Heart? The one you and I made?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Could you be a little more specific?”
At my words, Mei blinked drowsily up at me.
“...Bathroom.”
“Ah.”
“I’ll tell you when I get back.”
“O-okay.”
And Mei trudged toward the bathroom.
In the meantime, I thought.
'Dragon Heart...'
Once before, Mei and I made a Dragon Heart.
A Dragon Heart is a high-density mana condensate. I Weaved a Dragon Heart and let mana flow into its structure.
To crystallize mana, I forcibly broke down its structure and compressed it — and made the Dragon Heart.
The only “real” one I’ve ever produced.
Honestly, its shape was a Dragon Heart, but everything inside it was my mana, so strictly speaking it should be called a “Human Heart,” or maybe a “Frondier Heart”—
'No, forget it.'
Too cringeworthy to use.
At any rate, a Dragon Heart is a true mana crystal. Pure mana with no foreign substance mixed in, unlike Heukcheon.
If I can apply that principle now—
'Then first...'
I picked up the three-dimensional map device.
From what Arald taught me the other day, I’d learned how to input my own data into it.
To me, this was less a 3D map than already a three-dimensional blueprint.
Magic formulas have proper symbols, and mages learn those symbols to implement magic. As different formulas combine, minor details change, but the essence does not.
For now, that single essence — producing even just that would be a tremendous feat.
Vmmm—
An image appeared from the 3D map device.
What came up was a formula symbol: “Stop,” which I’d learned from Elodie. Since it’s the most basic formula symbol mages learn, its shape isn’t complicated. That helps me right now.
“I need to ask Arald to bump the resolution soon.”
If I keep doing this going forward, the current resolution could introduce error.
“Then with this exact shape, using Heukcheon...”
At my gesture, Heukcheon moved. The misted Heukcheon slowly gathered into the image of the 3D blueprint.
A cluster of Heukcheon formed to match the three-dimensional model exactly. Of course, if I tried to insert this symbol into a formula as-is, Heukcheon would just shatter like before.
So this time, I left the inside of the Heukcheon hollow, and as when making a Dragon Heart, I poured mana into it.
Vmm—
My mana flowed into the Heukcheon. The Heukcheon held the symbol’s shape — if I could fill its interior with mana and crystallize it, only then would a pure mana formula symbol be complete.
But cramming a massive amount of mana in all at once, like when I made the Dragon Heart, would be dangerous.
Do that indoors and it would cause an enormous disturbance. But with too little mana, it won’t crystallize.
'Feed in mana little by little. Until it takes on a crystal lattice.'
So I poured mana into the Heukcheon endlessly. Not rushing — slowly.
Crackle! Crack-crackle!
In the process, the small symbol filled quickly and then burst with a sharp sound.
But that was according to plan. For mana to crystallize, it must first be broken. I went through this same process when I made the Dragon Heart.
'...How long is this going to take?'
Compressed at high pressure, the mana burst; the empty space that created, I filled with fresh mana, which then broke again. Repeat. Keep at it, and the mana crystal forms.
But the capacity is far greater than I imagined, and my mana is being consumed at a staggering rate. I was already drawing on Helheim’s mana.
“Hrrrgh...!”
Even so, perhaps because I’d done something similar once, I could feel I was close to completion.
Flash!
And at last, in the moment I was certain no mana could enter the Heukcheon-covered symbol from any angle—
I slowly released the Heukcheon.
“...”
For a moment I was lost for words, staring.
A mana crystal radiating brilliant light. Not a Dragon Heart — a formula symbol in mana.
Excessive, even extravagant, for something devised just to “Stop.”
“What’s that.”
A voice then — Mei.
Back from the bathroom, she was looking at the mana symbol I’d completed.
Her sleepy eyes went even lazier as she said,
“There wasn’t even any need to tell you.”
***
After storing the new formula symbol in the workshop, I went to work.
Now that I’d made it into a crystal — into an object — I could replicate the symbol.
Honestly, I wanted to test it the moment I made it, but a sudden unease held me back.
Trusting Elodie would understand that unease, I went to her.
“Professor Elodie.”
“What is it?”
When I met Elodie in the staff room, she answered with a cold expression.
I could see her acting was improving by the day. Now, the seams were almost invisible.
If I hadn’t met Selena, I might have been cowed by this performance.
I matched her act.
“I have something to discuss. Come with me.”
“If you have something to say, say it here. Don’t make people move for no reason.”
...Is she venting the stress piled up from teaching on me?
Just then, Elodie’s voice reached me by sound transmission.
[Our setting is that we don’t get along — if I follow you because you say so, it’s weird. I’m the stubborn, prideful type here. Come up with a plausible pretext.]
[A pretext? And how exactly am I supposed to make you follow me?]
[Just pick a fight.]
Fair enough.
Helpless, I sighed and said,
“Regarding your last Magic Theory class — I hear you disparaged my lecture.”
“Disparaged? I did no such thing.”
“You supposedly said a mage who can’t go into the field isn’t a mage.”
“Well. I don’t recall saying that, but it’s not wrong.”
Of course Elodie never said that. I just grabbed something at random to start a fight and said what came to mind.
“What do you mean ‘not wrong’? Magic theory is as important as fieldwork.”
“No. In magic, what matters is the field. Theory only follows behind.”
“That’s precisely why students need theory — to chase the footsteps of those ahead more quickly.”
“You think they can catch up studying at a desk? You think theory can kill monsters?”
[Devils, not monsters.]
[Whoops. But there are monsters on this continent too, right?]
Close enough?
“Magic born inside sound theory prevents bad habits. If you want to see the distant future, theory is essential.”
“I don’t know. The reality in front of us seems more important than the far future. Bad habits or not, the continent needs mages who can kill more de— devils.”
“Even if those bad habits get the mage killed?”
“You don’t know until you try.”
“You have to know before you try.”
As our argument began, the teachers in the staff room gradually focused on us.
Wow, again?
I’m sick of it.
Do those two have some old grudge?
Can’t they go a single day without fighting?
Aren’t they just fundamentally incompatible? And so on.
By now everyone in Atlas knew our relationship was bad.
...But honestly, I had no idea what we were even arguing about. I wasn’t understanding my own words.
“...Mm.”
When I judged it had gone on long enough, I glanced around — or rather, pretended to.
Then I said to Elodie,
“Let’s move. I did have something to discuss with you anyway.”
“Fine.”
Thus we produced a decent excuse to leave together.
...But are we going to have to do this every time we need to talk?
Here’s hoping my patter doesn’t run dry.
We entered an empty classroom.
I took out the mana crystal in the shape of a formula symbol and showed it to Elodie.
“...”
Elodie’s face froze the instant she saw it.
When she stayed silent for some time, I finally asked first,
“What do you think this will do?”
“What will it do...?”
She took the crystal from me and examined it from every angle.
Then she said exactly what I’d been worrying about.
“It’s too much...”
“I figured.”
Right now this crystal is my mana, condensed at high pressure.
Not as much as a Dragon Heart, but it’s no small amount.
Ever since I obtained Helheim’s mana, my total mana is far beyond that of most mages. Even by my standard, this is a considerable amount of mana condensed solely for the formula “Stop.”
“If we assume it can function as a formula, what happens if I combine it with the fire element to make a Will-o’-the-Wisp?”
I can still only use Will-o’-the-Wisp. If I used this crystal for that—
At my question, Elodie tilted her head this way and that.
Perhaps unable to reach an answer, she made a Will-o’-the-Wisp herself.
Whoosh, whoosh, whooosh — Will-o’-the-Wisp formed repeatedly in her hand.
After watching it for a while, Elodie said,
“...I don’t know.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what will happen if you cast with your crystal.”
“Don’t lie. You, not know something about magic?”
“I appreciate the compliment, but the more you learn about magic, the more you don’t know.”
Elodie made another attempt as if to kindle a Will-o’-the-Wisp again. And judging by instinct, the amount of mana she was using kept increasing, yet the Will-o’-the-Wisp always maintained the same form.
“See? Magic doesn’t get stronger just because you pour in more mana. Mana left over after casting simply disperses.”
I knew what she was saying.
When I fought Renzo the very first time — after I’d eaten the Dragon Heart — Renzo told me:
Without proper techniques or magic, you’re just a water tank. Granted, at the time I had Mjölnir, a weapon more than sufficient to pour in tremendous mana.
Magic doesn’t get stronger by shoveling in mana. If you want to cast stronger magic, you need to know what that stronger magic is.
“Then will this crystal still just make an ordinary Will-o’-the-Wisp?”
That would actually be a relief. It’s even the effect I want.
Of course, it would be a waste if all that mana ended up as a tiny flame — but using this as a base to build various formulas would produce something.
“...That’s what I don’t know.”
“Hm?”
Elodie didn’t seem to think so.
“This isn’t just mana. The fact that it’s crystallized means it won’t disperse. Normally, mana left over after casting disappears, but this will remain right there.”
“What happens if it stays?”
“To use the magic, the formula operates and consumes that much mana — but the mana remains in place. So you can’t not use it. Yet the mana for the magic has already been satisfied, so something will collide at that point. But I don’t know the result.”
“...Do the gears just keep turning?”
“Right. Like a star that spins without end, like an orchestra whose music never ends.”
Elodie used the metaphors she’d given me before to make sure I understood.
I see. Truly, there’s no telling what will happen.
“We’ll have to test it.”
“Where?”
“The Atlas gym should be enough. After school, in the evening, when no one’s around.”
Atlas’s indoor gymnasium is similar in scale to Constel’s. The most renowned educational institution on the Agoris continent — it lives up to the name.
Elodie, however, sounded far from reassured.
“...I hope ‘enough’ is enough.”
