“......Reservation?”
Frondier asked back.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know what it meant. Given the word’s meaning and the timing of when it came up, he could roughly guess what it referred to.
Elodie said,
“You pre-cast the spell. Only up to just before activation.”
“......Leave just one switch, so that later you only press that switch and it activates?”
“Uh-huh. You catch on fast.”
Well, of course.
It was a concept familiar to Frondier.
'Store a spell in advance and take it out when you want...... In other games or novels, it’s not that unfamiliar a concept.'
But he hadn’t known it existed in this world too.
Since “Reservation” wasn’t a Trait or a Skill, and nobody had mentioned it during the time he played the game.
'Come to think of it, when I was learning about magic, there wasn’t a single thing I already knew. In the game, if you pressed magic, the magic fired immediately.'
Frondier had first experienced this world as a game. He knew the general knowledge of this world and the story up to a certain point better than anyone, but he knew nothing about the process by which individuals trained and mastered techniques. Because that wasn’t implemented at all in the game.
Swinging a sword once, hitting an enemy with an arrow, pulling off a basic spell—those were all things that were natural in the game, but not natural here.
“Are the people who can do that Reservation extremely few?”
“Rather than extremely few......”
Elodie lifted a finger to explain, then scratched her own cheek with that hand.
“I don’t know exactly either.”
“......What?”
“You can’t tell just by watching someone whether they’re Reserving. I’ve heard some pure mages can do it, and among those whose skill is high, some use it in real combat. Whether they actually use it—I can’t see it, so I don’t know.”
Elodie went “Mmm,” and tilted her head.
Then, as if she remembered, she raised her finger again.
“There’s one person I can confidently infer is ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) doing it.”
“Who?”
“Teacher Jane.”
“......Aha.”
Teacher Jane. With a single finger, she can use one kind of magic. In other words, the number of spells she can use at once is ten, and all ten are usable with completely different attributes and purposes.
The speed of magic she unfolds with a single finger is slightly slower than Elodie’s, but under the condition of “using ten spells simultaneously,” there’s no one who can keep up with that speed.
“So that’s how she was doing something that unreasonable—by using Reservation.”
“Right. She set one Reservation on each finger. No doubt.”
Elodie nodded as if sure of her own thought.
Frondier asked,
“Anyone else?”
“Among my friends, the most likely was Lunia. That kid’s a pure mage too, and was excellent at utilizing magic circles. And, um, if the Principal wanted to, I suppose the Principal could.”
“......So I get that the difficulty is absurd.”
In this world, “Reservation” seemed to be a technique that, while possible, was monstrously advanced.
'Lunia was incredibly surprised that Vasileo’s formulae remained even when he moved them around and changed their shape. Thinking along those lines, formulae must normally be highly volatile. Like human thoughts are.'
In other words, conversely, in Vasileo’s case—who used formulae that didn’t volatilize easily—Reservation might be the optimal condition.
'......Even if the conditions fit.'
Could Vasileo really do it?
'More than anything, if it comes to that, what is it I can even teach?'
***
Vasileo listened to Frondier’s explanation.
About the concept of Reservation, and the conditions required for it, and that Vasileo possessed some of those to a degree.
Of course, he supplemented with sufficient explanations from Elodie and then conveyed it.
“......Reservation. So there’s such a thing.”
Vasileo’s eyes widened as if it were a completely new concept.
'If Vasileo didn’t know, I can assume everyone on this continent doesn’t know.'
If Vasileo wanted to exceed the limits of a pure mage, he would have combed through all sorts of books, and if the concept of Reservation existed, it would have certainly crossed his eyes.
Well, if he’d known, there’s no way he wouldn’t have tried it.
“The problem is that neither I nor Elodie can do this technique.”
“......What about the other teachers?”
“Of course, none of them can.”
At least within Atlas, there probably wasn’t anyone who could.
Who knew if there was some hermit master somewhere on this continent.
'It’s going to be hard, after all.'
There was no one who could do it, and yet he was recommending it to a student.
He couldn’t even know whether it had a higher chance than high-speed casting.
Maybe it was right to help him grow by the book within the limits of what Frondier himself could do.
Just as that thought crossed his mind,
“Then if I succeed,”
Vasileo instead asked with eyes shining,
“at least in that part, I’ll be surpassing you and Teacher Elodie.”
Frondier was surprised by those words. Soon his face turned into a smile as well.
A fearless student. Truly, he resembled him.
“Yeah. Not just me and Elodie—counting on one hand would be enough for the number of people who could surpass you.”
“......All right.”
Vasileo nodded.
“If I pull that off, it’s greater than high-speed casting, right?”
“......Hm?”
“I’d be able to be a mage who, alone, uses high-speed magic to sweep away enemies, right?”
“......No, it’s separate from high-speed casting—”
Vasileo was already no longer listening.
He was burning with resolve, going Uwooooh.
“......Then I’m going to go check on Pielot for a bit, so practice on your own.”
Leaving behind the three who had sunk into thought, Frondier stepped out of the classroom.
***
Pielot would not participate in Magic–War Combined Training.
It was a judgment rendered by none other than Frondier.
The reason, as he had told Glaucos, was “because it’s the most crude.”
'In a different sense from Glaucos, though.'
As the class progressed, Magic–War Combined Training would become a place where they taught warriors magic, and mages combat.
Frondier was putting together the curriculum believing it would help almost all the students, but of course there are exceptions.
'......I wonder if Pielot’s doing well.'
Frondier slightly quickened his pace and flew toward his workshop.
Needless to say, it had now become Pielot’s training ground.
Creak.
Frondier opened the door,
“Pielot, are you hurt any—”
He spoke first with worry leading him, then closed his mouth.
Pielot stood in the center.
And scattered around him were hulking bodies.
“......Phew.”
Pielot let go of his sword and exhaled a sigh.
It seemed all the fighting had just ended.
'......Atjie Mk.2......'
To check Pielot’s skill, he had set him against multiple golems.
They weren’t prototypes, but even with just these they had given the Empire’s professionals considerable trouble.
They weren’t simple golems, but golems that had learned Atjie’s martial arts and behavioral mechanisms. Though incomplete, they could even mimic Nakjang.
“You took them all down.”
“Ah, yes, Senior.”
Pielot bowed his head to Frondier.
“Any injuries?”
“None.”
It didn’t sound like bluffing. Even to Frondier’s eye, his body was intact.
'He’s already long since surpassed professional level.'
Thinking back to when he first met Pielot, it was moving.
The Pielot of the past, who only tried to defeat Aster and was full of arrogance and spoiledness.
If the current Pielot saw his past self, he might die of embarrassment.
'The present Pielot doesn’t need the same degree of strictness as back then.'
Though he didn’t show it, there were times Frondier felt sorry toward Pielot.
In the past, because he didn’t know when Pielot might revert, he had intentionally drawn a distinction between him and Dierre.
Pielot knew that the way Frondier treated him was clearly different from how he treated Dierre. He knew the reason, too.
Perhaps that had been excessive treatment.
For a kid not even an adult, it was only natural to have some spoiledness and greed. Perhaps what Pielot had was only about that much.
“......Well done.”
Frondier spoke without meaning to.
Words that came out with instinct ahead of deep thought.
Frondier usually judged such things a “mistake,” but just this once, he had no intention of taking it back.
“Sir?”
Pielot looked at Frondier as if he’d misheard.
Then he chuckled faintly and shook his head.
“I’ve still got a long way to go.”
Those words of Pielot’s weren’t a formal turn of phrase.
A long way to go. When he said that, the small unease and anger showing on Pielot’s face—proof that he was acutely aware his own skill was lacking.
“Pielot. As I said before, you won’t be participating in the Magic–War Combined Training class.”
“Yes. I know.”
“Probably until I leave Atlas, you won’t be able to at all.”
“I know that too.”
There was no wavering in Pielot’s eyes.
At that sight, Frondier confirmed that his teaching hadn’t gone wrong, and felt relieved.
“Pielot. Up to now, when I taught you, I always worried you would go back to the past. Your past self was dangerous. More than anything, it was most dangerous to you. Spoiledness and arrogance are the simplest shortcut that push you toward death.”
“Yes. I feel that down to the bone now.”
“But because of that, I kept thinking of you as a student. However, now it seems the time has come to change that perception.”
Frondier raised his hand. The fallen golems turned into black liquid, scattered, and flew to Frondier.
“Pielot. Among the students I’m teaching now, you’re the most severely unbalanced. Your ability with Aura is more outstanding than anyone’s, and your recent skills are an application of that. But thanks to that, in other areas you’re still immature. That’s why you allowed Glaucos to land a blow.”
Frondier said it.
That Pielot had blocked Glaucos’s overwhelming speed with his sword—
He called that “allowing it.”
That someone like Pielot should, of course, have handled it superbly.
“Magic–War Combined Training isn’t what matters for you.”
Frondier took up a spear.
Atjie’s Spear, the very same he used when facing the other students. But the weight imbued there and his eyes were different.
“For you right now, that would be a waste of time.”
“......Yes.”
“Here, you’ll be raised at the fastest pace, without worrying about any other such things. I’ll also stop thinking of you as a student.”
Until now, Frondier had never made Pielot’s training dangerous.
Though his words had been cool, it was because he wished Pielot wouldn’t go astray, and the training he actually conducted never exceeded Pielot’s physicality.
He would stop that coddling now.
“Do you still want to surpass Aster?”
“......!”
Pielot was surprised at the question. But immediately after, his eyes sank endlessly low, and he took a combat stance.
“......There hasn’t been a single day I didn’t dream of it.”
“Good.”
Frondier smiled.
“I’ll make you that way.”
