“Teacher, hel— no, what’s with your face?”
Atlas’s faculty room.
One of the teachers passing by saw Frondier’s face and asked in surprise.
Frondier’s eyes slowly turned toward the teacher.
“......Is there something wrong with my face?”
“Rather than wrong...... you look like you’re about to die. Did you sleep at all?”
“I do sleep from time to time.”
“My goodness.”
After offering Frondier a handful of worries and considerate advice, the teacher returned to their seat.
Frondier closed his eyes and let out a small sigh.
'For fatigue to show on Frondier’s face. I’ve gone a bit too far.'
Frondier looked in the ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) mirror. He definitely looked tired. Dark circles were hollowed out, and his skin had gone limp like a corpse.
He had in fact been unable to sleep lately.
Because of a single word Elodie had given him.
'......Mathematics.'
If arithmetic isn’t enough, do mathematics.
It was the quintessential Elodie answer.
And perhaps, it might be the solution that suits Frondier best.
'Reaching the ultimate of swordsmanship like Aster at this point isn’t realistic. Like Elodie said, I have no choice but to grow stronger in my own way. The word “mathematics” does feel like a hint for that.'
But for now that hint was like a faintly glimmering grain of sand.
A feeble clue that might not even be a hint, and even if he followed it, there was no telling whether it would make him that much stronger.
So these past few days, he kept repeating endless designs using the three-dimensional map device and the Workshop and so on.
His haggard appearance was the result.
Elodie hadn’t been coming to him lately either. If she got close, they would have to spar with smoke as always, but when she saw Frondier’s current face she simply couldn’t pick a fight.
“H-hey there, Frondier, sir. You’re not looking so well.”
Just then, Teacher Giotto sidled up while gauging his mood.
Ever since all those speaker bugs got exposed, Giotto had been like this the whole time.
Because Giotto hadn’t received a single piece of information since then.
Was Frondier planning to expose the bug affair, planning to conceal it, or was he still mulling it over?
With nothing certain, his anxiety grew worse by the day.
But if he asked Frondier about it, Frondier might use that as a pretext to expose everything.
“I’ve had a lot to think about recently.”
Whether he knew Giotto’s state of mind or not, Frondier treated him as usual.
He treated Giotto with the same indifference as if the threats during the Makia schedule had been a lie.
“I, I know a really good spa. If I put you down under my name, you’ll get great service—”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Mr. Giotto.”
Frondier was being considerate of Giotto, but from Giotto’s position it only made him fidget all the more.
Giotto rolled his eyes this way and that and added one more line.
“Right. It seems your class load is excessive. Now that I think about it, I forgot we’ve finally got enough instructors on the combat side. You don’t have to take those classes anymore.”
“......Classes.......”
When Frondier murmured that word, Giotto nodded diligently. His complexion also brightened, as if he’d hit the right answer.
“Serving as homeroom while handling different fields simultaneously must have been a heavy burden. I’ll go change your schedule right away—”
“Mr. Giotto.”
“W-what is it?”
“Atlas does have a course called ‘Combined Use of Magic and Combat,’ correct?”
“......Ah. It does. It’s an elective. We’re even considering scrapping it because the students’ preference is so low.”
Frondier fell silent after hearing that much. It was only a few seconds, but in that time Giotto’s insides burned up.
Frondier seemed to come to a decision and spoke.
“Could I take that course? If possible.”
“Magic–Combat Combined? W-well, like I just said, it’s right on the verge of being scrapped...... but there’s no reason you can’t! I’ll give it a strong push!”
Giotto started speaking with a troubled face, then realized midway and changed his attitude. Because Frondier treated him too normally, he kept forgetting his own position.
Or perhaps this was exactly what Frondier was aiming for. As expected—terrifying, Frondier de Roach!
“Magic–Combat Combined....... So that’s what you call it.”
“Unpopular as it is, it’s an old course. Everyone calls it that.”
Frondier nodded.
“Thank you for accommodating me, Mr. Giotto. Sorry for taking your time.”
“T-then starting tomorrow I’ll change it from Combat Theory over to Magic–Combat Combined.”
At that, Frondier tilted his head.
“What do you mean change it?”
“......Hm? Wasn’t that what we were talking about?”
While Giotto was failing to understand, Frondier spoke as if it were only natural.
“Not a switch—please add it.”
Giotto’s mouth fell open.
***
At Atlas, an elective is, simply put, one of the non-mainstream courses that do not pertain to the performance abilities needed to qualify as a pro license holder or knight, from which students choose what they want.
Of course, it’s not unlimited; each course has a cap. So if you don’t register early, the popular courses quickly fill up and you have to choose something else.
However, there was no need at all to worry about that for the Magic–Combat Combined course Frondier intended to teach this time.
“Number of students registered: 0....... So this happens.”
Frondier scratched his cheek.
Electives had, of course, already been decided by all the students before he came to Atlas.
Magic–Combat Combined often had nobody choosing it each term. On the rare occasion one or two students did pick it, it was only because they’d missed out on a popular course or just wanted to kill time.
Besides, even the original instructor in charge of this course had no motivation, so its popularity dropped further.
'Students feel that the domains of mage and warrior are clearly separate. The feeling is you only need to do your own job properly.'
This tendency was particularly strong at Atlas, but Constel, where Frondier originally attended, wasn’t much different.
Classes like magic swordsman or magic warrior are a kind of fantasy in this world. They do exist, but they’re rare, and among those rare few, true standouts who draw the public eye are rarer still. There isn’t a single one at the Zodiac level.
The most famous, barely, is Hector, son of Ridwi Urpa. He himself dislikes magic and hardly uses it.
'And there’s Cybel, but she’s an exception. She’s the only one who can do that.'
You mustn’t place Cybel on the same line as other magic swordsmen. From the start, both principle and dimension are different. Comparing to someone who’s making the impossible possible is meaningless.
Anyway, magic swordsmen aren’t popular. The perception that they’re neither this nor that—stuck in the middle—is strong.
Following that perception, a class like Magic–Combat Combined is just as unpopular.
“Well, that’s fine. The real classes start after break anyway. There’s no time to try anything starting now.”
Only a few days remained in the break. Touching the electives at this point was unreasonable to begin with.
He decided to set the curriculum later and for now complete his first objective.
Frondier looked around.
“Not as bad as I thought. Hearing it was an unpopular course, I was worried they’d stick me in some multipurpose closet.”
Magic–Combat Combined is an outdoor class. Naturally so, given the nature of the course.
Frondier was assigned an outdoor space about the size of a badminton court. You can’t fly around, sprint, and smash things, but it’s big enough for sparring.
'Whether Workshop or whatever, you can’t solve this by running it only in your head.'
He’d thought it through in his head enough.
Now it was time to test it.
Choosing to teach an elective had this reason too. He wanted to secure legitimate free time.
Before, he rented the gym late at night, but doing that made weird rumors circulate through Atlas and he ended up getting found out.
If he was going to get found out anyway, he judged it better to show it openly.
'Sleepy.'
These past few days, Frondier hadn’t been able to sleep.
His body was unquestionably exhausted, yet he hadn’t immersed himself this deeply in one thing in quite some time.
When he’d repeatedly burned out his mana in the past, when he’d sparred endlessly with Atjie, when he’d learned weapon skills from various people—Frondier had put his all into all of that, but most of it was obligation and desperation. He had reasons he absolutely had to become stronger, and those reasons even had a countdown.
But this time was a little different.
The desire to grow stronger was the same, but Frondier felt a thrill he’d never had before.
He had never liked getting stronger. He didn’t enjoy training either.
Whether warrior or mage, those roles didn’t suit the him who had lived in the previous world at all.
“All right, let’s try it.”
Frondier took out the formula crystal. As before, the formula was “Stop.”
The first cogwheel.
'Next.'
But this time, he used the lightning attribute rather than flame. Lightning is far harder to master compared to other attributes. Because you rarely see it, it’s harder to reach understanding.
However, in Frondier’s case he had lived in a place in the previous world where current was more familiar than here, and he understood the rough principles.
Of course, that didn’t help so much as to spare him the hardship. Water or earth are the orthodox attributes to learn first, but he skipped them and arrived here.
Still, he managed it somehow. Frondier’s metaphor, the “cogwheel,” once properly learned, greatly helps in manifesting it again. Even Elodie was surprised at Frondier’s high magic success rate.
This was the second cogwheel.
'Next.'
Magic combining the Stop formula and the lightning attribute is merely an electrical version of Will o’ the Wisp. Of course, thanks to his crystal its power will stack explosively, but that was true for the basic Wisp as well.
Ordinarily, mages don’t use magic like this. If it only serves to give off light, there’s no need to pursue a more difficult method.
Which means this whole sequence only has meaning if it isn’t “for lighting.”
Weaving
Rank — Unique
Atjie’s Spear
This time he made and drew out a spear. Honestly, the weapon didn’t matter. As long as it was sufficiently sturdy. If this wasn’t enough, he would have to go up a grade, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.
This was the third cogwheel.
'Next.'
Heukcheon spread like mist. A considerable amount of Heukcheon circled the spear Frondier had created and the formula crystal.
This Heukcheon would add offensive power, but it was also a safety device to prepare for what would happen next.
The fourth cogwheel.
'Becoming stronger as a warrior wasn’t fun.'
But if the method of becoming stronger was in a gamer’s direction—
Leaving aside the question of fun, for Frondier it was as familiar as breathing.
'My metaphor is the cogwheel.'
Elodie had said that a metaphor for magic manifestation had to be one’s own. Magic does not proceed in sequence; everything is carried out by exact calculation and manifests simultaneously.
Like stars moving together, like an orchestra forming a single piece of music.
Compared to that, a cogwheel is utterly dry and barren.
'In that case, that metaphor doesn’t need to be just “one” magic.'
Formula crystal, attribute, weapon, Heukcheon.
All of these were placed as Frondier’s cogwheels.
Weaving is magic by nature, and Heukcheon is mana by nature.
The spear Frondier created was indistinguishable from the genuine article to the eye, but in truth it was a fake made by magic.
Frondier knew better than anyone that it was fake.
'If I can load the infinitely stacking magic granted by the formula crystal into a weapon—'
Frondier vaguely imagined its appalling destructive power.
It’s not something you do with a real weapon.
Which is why you do it with a fake.
“When one cogwheel turns, another must turn as well.”
As long as they’re properly meshed.
Sssip, hoo......
Right before manifestation, Frondier drew a deep breath in and let it out.
And said,
“......Sleepy.”
Click—
Clack.
