Chapter 20
Ian headed to the reading room with a book in hand.
Even as he approached, she remained undisturbed, utterly absorbed in her reading. It felt as though an isolation spell had enveloped her.
"Senior."
Isera looked up. Her expression was stormy.
"I've finished tidying up. There was... an unsettling matter that caused me to act out of character earlier. My apologies."
"Don't apologize to me. The librarians overseeing this place are the ones who endured it. If you insist on apologizing, direct it to them."
"Understood. But Senior... might I have a moment of your time? There's something I wish to ask."
Isera delayed her response, studying Ian intently.
In situations like this, boys' questions were predictable—asking about her availability or weekend plans. This proved no exception.
Yet Isera's gaze kept drifting to the book in Ian's hands.
"To avoid misunderstanding, this isn't personal. I encountered a perplexing passage while reading."
"Oh?"
"And it's not something I can readily approach the professors about..."
Isera tilted her head slightly to the right, her silken hair cascading over one shoulder.
"What is it?"
"I wanted to consult you about interpreting an ancient incantation."
Ian had gotten lucky. Isera harbored a deep fascination for all things antiquated.
"Sit."
She granted him the seat across from hers.
Ian opened his book and pointed to a passage detailing a lightning magic incantation.
"This is... lightning magic?"
"Correct. Do you believe there's room for alternative interpretation here?"
"Stop testing me and state your conclusion."
The sharp rebuke made Ian comply immediately.
"The standard interpretation—both from my studies and this text—reads: 'Mana originating from the source of power must flow like waves at the vein's end.'"
"And?"
"But what if we substitute 'vein's end' with 'cliff' and 'waves' with 'waterfall'?"
Isera's eyes ignited with sudden interest.
She propped her chin on her hand, gaze locked on the book for an extended moment.
"What prompted this reinterpretation?"
"It simply... felt more intuitive while reading. Though empirical validation is needed, I wished to seek your insight first."
"The lexical similarities are there, but considering the incantation's directional implications—"
"I'm aware. 'End' and 'waves' imply horizontal force, whereas 'cliff' and 'waterfall' suggest vertical momentum. The vector of energy would fundamentally differ."
"That would alter the spell formula."
"Is it feasible?"
"Are you asking me to devise a new formula for you?"
Ian vehemently shook his head.
"Not at all. I hoped we might collaborate. As a freshman, I lack expertise. Perhaps... under your supervision?"
Modified spellcasting required overseers. A misfire could lead to mana surges endangering others.
Of course, basic spells like lightning required no supervision for modifications.
Yet Ian emphasized their senior-junior dynamic to secure her aid.
Isera exhaled sharply and rose.
"Follow."
Throughout their walk down the lengthy corridor, Isera maintained silence, her steps measured and deliberate.
After minutes traversing crimson carpets, they reached a vast empty chamber devoid of ornamentation.
"Do you know where this is?"
"No, I don't."
"The magic training grounds. Essential for every magic student. When insights strike during study, this is where we test them before they fade."
Ian nodded, surveying the surroundings.
The floor and walls gleamed with mirror-like polish, though not reflective—crafted from materials radiating durability.
'This should withstand most spells.'
Spellcasting posed inherent risks.
The Grand Library housed countless paper-based tomes. Though preservation spells existed, practicing magic here remained hazardous.
Hence the training grounds' construction from supreme anti-magic materials.
Wands for mana convergence lay to one side, alongside focusing crystals and other arcane tools that caught Ian's eye.
Hmm...
Ian turned to find Isera channeling mana, her raised hand crackling with energy.
"Mana born from power's source must cascade like waterfalls from cliffs."
The incantation flowed in Isera's mellifluous voice—Ian's proposed interpretation given life.
"There are no absolutes in magic. Yet low-tier or frequently used spells become codified through habit over centuries. Like your lightning magic."
Isera swept her hand through the air, initiating the spell matrix.
Ian gaped.
'Did she just conceptualize the formula on the spot?'
The genius epithet attached to Isera felt viscerally real in this moment.
Pure mana streamed from Isera's core through her channels.
Guided by the revised incantation, it fell not as waves but as a plummeting deluge—an erosive force hammering the ground.
"No one questions established norms for basic spells. But eternal laws don't exist. Truth becomes prejudice through trivial, serendipitous moments."
Crackle!
Electricity coalesced at her fingertips. Azure sparks danced outward.
As she clenched her fist, her entire body luminesced cerulean. Hair undulating, she closed her eyes.
"Like this."
Though untouched by current, Ian's hair stood on end, goosebumps rising.
『Lightning.』
Zzzzt!
KABOOOM!
A deafening roar accompanied the azure bolt's eruption.
Like ancient roots spreading, violent currents lashed walls and floor without respite.
CRASH!
KRAKATHOOM!
Ian stared speechless at the devastation.
This wasn't mere amplification.
Standard lightning spells spread horizontally to electrocute targets. But this attack generated vertical shockwaves—a meteoric strike shattering established paradigms.
"Huuu."
Isera opened her eyes, examining her current-rippling palm.
"Reluctant as I am to admit it, your interpretation appears more accurate."
"Seems so."
Thus the glasses' capability was verified.
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Thank you. Your guidance made formulating the spell easier."
"That's not what I meant."
"Hm?"
"You've discovered a method to redefine lightning magic. Surely you grasp the implications."
Her tone asked why he wasn't exulting.
"I'll contemplate that gradually. I've four years until graduation, after all."
Ian grinned brightly, playing the clueless freshman.
Late at night, when all slept.
Door 307-A creaked open.
Contrary to expectations, light flooded the room. Milo tinkered with apparatuses while Edel trimmed herbs.
"Ian! Unreal! Following your method actually weakened lightning spells!"
"So they still worked somewhat?"
"Barely. Just a flicker."
Ian nodded, having anticipated this.
"The distillation's imperfect. Boiling has limitations."
"What then? Won't this affect potion-making?"
"Marginally. We'll refine the apparatus gradually. The road's long."
His casual remark made his roommates reassess him—the recluse who'd hibernated for a decade now exuding such magnanimity.
"Seems your goal isn't enhancing potion efficacy?"
"One step at a time."
Ian set down his bag and reclined on his bed.
"Here."
Milo slid something toward Ian as he turned—a palm-sized herb glowing cerulean.
"Bluebell Herb?"
An elixir.
Though weak, it permanently boosted mana reserves. Rare despite its modest effects.
"Why such a precious gift?"
"Your mana assessment's imminent. Wouldn't a boost help? Everyone's anticipating your results."
"Unnecessary."
Ian declined. Milo frowned.
"Damn. First mage I've seen refuse an elixir. This isn't pity—take it."
"If not pity, what?"
"A bribe? You did share valuable knowledge."
MMilo jerked his chin at the distillation apparatus.
Ian chuckled. The trade was fair—Milo's discernment impressive.
Still, Ian refused.
"Give it to Edel. I've no interest."
""Such confidence?"
Though misinterpreted, Ian simply smiled.
Consuming elixirs now wouldn't increase his mana.
'Better invest in allies.'
Mana aided herb preparation. Enhanced by elixirs, Edel could craft superior potions.
Ian trusted today's investment would bear fruit.
Ahem. "Then let's bestow this upon our dear Edel."
"M-me? Truly...?"
Edel's voice trembled. The herb cost millions—a healer's son would know.
"Absolutely! Ian transferred his claim. Though your debt just increased by 20,000 shillings."
"Cruel..."
"Just consume it! Elixirs don't grow on trees!"
The Bluebell Herb changed hands.
Unlike common herbs, elixirs required post-ingestion mana circulation for full absorption.
Edel's mana reserves were barely 1st Circle level. Milo assisted his energy flow.
"Trusting me with your mana circuits so easily?"
Milo asked, hand on Edel's slender back. Edel beamed.
"Someone who gives elixirs wouldn't sabotage me."
"Naive fool."
"Hehe."
Ian smirked, watching their camaraderie deepen through shared trials.
He produced his glasses.
'Elixirs pale compared to this treasure.'
After discovering the new lightning spell, Ian had revisited the ancient archives to verify the glasses' capabilities.
Deciphering antiquated texts with them could maximize efficiency despite mana limitations.
The revised spell formula already proved invaluable, enabling potent magic with minimal mana.
'But they're imperfect. For now.'
Not all ancient texts translated—most shelves held indecipherable tomes.
'Is this their limit? Or an artifact with growth potential?'
The question arose naturally.
Ian's eyes gleamed as he studied the glasses.
'Unknown. But—'
Answers would come. As they had today.
"Kyaaak!"
Edel's shriek pierced the air.
"Why scream like a girl?"
"It huuurts!"
"Endure. If you fail, your circuits break and the elixir's wasted. Best case? Your life's ruined."
"KYAAAAAH!"
Screams echoed through the dormitory all night.
