Chapter 55 - Damn Reincarnation

Nineteen Years Old

He had not spent all of the past two years in the Hall of Senya. Though not as much as there, he had also spent a considerable amount of time on the eighth and sixth floors.

The Hall of Blazing Heat on the eighth floor.

The Hall of Space on the sixth.

He had wanted to go further and spend time in the Hall of Heavenly Disaster on the seventh floor and the Hall of Freezing on the eighth, too. But he had decided he needed to choose his priorities and focus rather than dabble in everything.

The eighth floor’s fire magic was relatively simple yet powerful. The caliber of a spell varied enormously depending on how one handled the flames, but simply being able to produce them guaranteed sufficient power.

Flames were powerful by their very nature. They were hot. They burned things away.

Their one flaw was the absurd amount of mana they required. The Hall of Blazing Heat on the eighth floor housed the spells of the fire mage said to have been the most powerful in magical history.

The sixth floor, the Hall of Space. Eugene was interested in Blink himself, and he needed to learn spatial magic to use the Cloak of Darkness properly.

On the eighth and sixth floors, he had achieved more than satisfactory results.

“You’re finally out.”

On Akron’s first floor, a middle-aged mage rose from his chair. He waved to Eugene with a smile so affectionate it seemed excessive.

“What is it this time?”

Trempel Wizardor. Aroth’s chief court mage took a great interest in Eugene.

Strictly speaking, Trempel’s overt goodwill was an expression of Crown Prince Honein’s favor. Neither of them had hidden their goodwill even when they first met Eugene.

“I keep inviting you to share a meal, but you’re so busy, Sir Eugene, that we haven’t managed to dine together even once, have we?”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“I was told you hadn’t left Akron for nine hours. Surely you’re aware that eating inside Akron is forbidden.”

The director must have told him everything. Eugene glanced at the closed door to the director’s office before answering.

“I had a very substantial breakfast. If I’d been physically active, I would have digested it long ago, but all I’ve done is sit and read, so I haven’t digested any of it.”

“You haven’t digested it in nine hours?”

“It happens. Let’s leave the meal for another—”

“Another time, again? Sir Eugene, I wasn’t going to say this, but... I’ve heard ‘another time’ so often I’m sick of the sound of it.”

“I don’t have an appetite, either.”

Trempel glared, but Eugene’s answer did not change. Wasn’t it obvious what that old mage would go on about? Promising him a cushy position in the court mage corps, and so on...

Aroth’s court mage corps was considered the finest magical military force on the continent. Its members enjoyed excellent treatment, and many mages wanted to join. However impressive and prestigious it might be, it was still the military—but in peaceful times like these, even the military amounted to a comfortable government job.

‘Am I fucking crazy?’

Eugene was nineteen. He had no desire to tie himself to an organization already. The military, in particular, was something he was thoroughly sick of.

However peaceful the world might be, the military was still the military. He could disregard its shitty hierarchy by invoking the Lionheart name and Crown Prince Honein’s, but he would no longer be able to live as freely as he did now.

‘Why does he keep turning down such a wonderful opportunity?’

Trempel felt frustrated. Could Eugene have already received an offer elsewhere? The thought made him anxious.

Eugene was already the apprentice of Lovellian, the Red Tower Master. A tower master’s position was not hereditary, but with Eugene’s talent, Lovellian’s instruction, and Lionheart’s influence, Eugene would undoubtedly become the Red Tower Master someday.

Trempel did not want to let that happen. Aroth’s towers and royal palace cooperated, but they were not a single entity. He wanted to draw Eugene into the court mage corps by any means possible. If he succeeded, it would also become easier to secure the cooperation of Lionheart, the family backing Eugene...

‘It can’t be that old man, Generic.’

Generic Osman, the Green Tower Master.

Trempel could not stand the old man. Just think back to two years ago, when Eugene first came to Akron. Generic and the head of the Mages’ Guild had opposed granting Eugene an entry pass to the very end.

He could understand the guild head’s position. Fairness might have been part of it, but there must have been personal feelings involved as well. The black mage who had approached Eward belonged to the Mages’ Guild. Balzac, the Black Tower Master, could publicly declare that he had nothing to do with the affair, but the head of the Mages’ Guild was in no position to do the same.

In Aroth, where the towers held power, the Mages’ Guild inevitably had little influence. Most people regarded it as a collection of mediocre mages who belonged to no tower, and sadly, reality did not allow the guild to deny that assessment entirely.

Then why had Generic opposed it?

The answer was simple. Because Lovellian had recommended Eugene.

Three hundred years ago, Senya the Wise had served as Green Tower Master. Of the three apprentices she took on, two stayed at the Green Tower, while one transferred to the Red Tower.

Nowadays, countless mages in Aroth revered Senya the Wise as their grandmaster. But among them, only Generic and Lovellian could firmly claim to be her legitimate successors.

Senya’s two apprentices who remained at the Green Tower married each other, had a child, and passed their magic on to him. He was the previous Green Tower Master, Generic’s father.

His family could hardly be friendly toward the Red Tower. How could someone leave the Green Tower, where their master had lived, and put down roots in another tower? Generic, the direct heir to their bloodline, disliked Lovellian all the more.

Without Lovellian, Generic alone could claim the legitimacy of being Senya’s disciple. In this magical kingdom that worshipped Senya, that bloodline carried undeniable power.

Lovellian’s very existence was enough to make him a thorn in Generic’s side. Yet the infuriating man was also close friends with the head of the Lionheart main family. He had even taken in Lionheart’s legitimate son and favored him—and when that son made a fool of himself, he had tried to get Lionheart’s adopted son into Akron.

That was why Generic had opposed Eugene’s admission. Yet after Lovellian took Eugene as his apprentice, Generic began coveting him. The grass was greener on the other side of the fence more often than not. Generic wanted to coax Eugene into leaving the Red Tower, whatever it took.

The Green Tower and court mage corps were not the only ones who wanted Eugene.

There was the White Tower. Having lost the Cloak of Darkness for nine years, Melkith wanted to persuade Eugene to lend her Wynnyd again by any means possible. Failing that, she wanted at least to get the Cloak of Darkness back. Nor were her reasons purely material. Eugene freely commanded intermediate wind spirits.

There was also the Black Tower. Though he did not show it openly, rumors of Balzac’s interest in Eugene were widespread among the tower masters. Eward’s affair had deepened the animosity between the Lionheart family and black mages, and Balzac apparently wanted to mend that relationship somehow.

Only the Blue Tower showed complete indifference.

“... Ahem. Sir Eugene. How is your... paper coming along?”

“Fine.”

“If you like, I can help review it. Of course, I know your teacher, the Red Tower Master, is handling the review. But more advisers are better than fewer.”

“I appreciate the offer, but...”

“Wait. Don’t turn me down yet. It’s embarrassing to say this myself, but summoning magic is the Red Tower’s specialty, isn’t it? I’m fairly good at summoning magic, too, but I’m also proficient in combat magic. I’m not chief court mage for nothing.”

Trempel hurriedly added, “The advice I can give you will differ from that of the Red Tower Master, whose specialty is summoning magic.”

“That may be true, but you don’t even know what kind of paper I’m writing, do you, Master Trempel?”

That’s because you’ve only shown it to the Red Tower Master. Trempel swallowed the sharp retort rising in his throat.

“Ha ha... If I don’t know, surely I can learn? I’m every bit as experienced in teaching younger mages as the tower masters. I regularly submit papers to Aroth’s magical society, and I’ve reviewed plenty of junior colleagues’ papers.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m fine. Accepting your proposal at this point would be a grave discourtesy to my teacher, Master Lovellian.”

“Ahem... The Red Tower Master has a heart as broad and deep as the sea. He would be pleased to see you seeking instruction from a senior scholar, not offended.”

“In that case, I’ll ask Master Lovellian directly.”

“Now, now... Why go to all that trouble? Let’s do this instead. We’ll keep it a secret between the two of us. You won’t have to feel awkward facing your teacher, and the Red Tower Master won’t lose face. And I... would be happy to contribute to a younger mage’s development...”

“Please excuse me.”

Eugene walked past Trempel without listening any further. Trempel reached after him, reluctant to let him go, but finally shook his head with a long sigh.

‘Damn it.’

“Fuck.”

Once he was some distance from Trempel, Eugene swore as well. Couldn’t the man take no for an answer? Why keep pestering him?

‘He’s only this bad because he doesn’t know about Eternal Hole. If he knew, he’d crawl right into my bedroom.’

Only Lovellian and Mer knew that Eugene had reproduced Eternal Hole through the White Flame Formula.

An archmage of Trempel’s caliber could discern someone’s magical level and mana control at a glance. But Eugene’s reproduced formula, the Ring Flame Formula, was indistinguishable from the White Flame Formula until he actually cast magic.

In other words, looking was not enough to tell. That offered several advantages.

He could completely conceal his level from high-ranking mages.

Lovellian had said that, from a magical perspective, Eugene did not look like a mage. That was only natural, since he had no circles.

He had also said it was difficult to determine Eugene’s level even when he cast magic without the Ring Flame Formula. Judging solely by the flow of his mana... he seemed to be around the Fourth Circle.

When he used the Ring Flame Formula, however:

“... Regardless of what spells you can cast, in terms of power alone, you far surpass the Fifth Circle.”

In the Red Tower’s underground research chambers, Lovellian spoke after composing himself. He had been Eugene’s teacher for two years, but had never once addressed him casually or treated him as an inferior.

“A First Circle Fireball is superior to a Fifth Circle Volcano Shot.”

The violent torrent of mana produced by the Ring Flame Formula. An ideal, swift arrangement. A simple spell formula.

Incantationless casting.

No, it surpassed even that. One of the many reasons Eternal Hole was called the pinnacle of circle magic was its ability to ‘record’ spells without restriction. Instead of using a scroll, the caster instantly read a spell formula recorded in their consciousness and manifested the magic. That process required no incantation.

It was... nothing less than a reproduction of a dragon’s Word magic.

“For now, the Fourth Circle is my limit,” Eugene said, dispersing the black smoke.

“I can’t fit more advanced spells into Eternal Hole. Is my understanding lacking?”

“I doubt that is the problem. Put simply, it is a limit on capacity. Your Ring Flame Formula is not a perfect reproduction of Eternal Hole.”

Eternal Hole was a magic formula that transcended the Ninth Circle. It formed a single ring from infinite mana, then created infinite circles within it.

Eugene was still nowhere near that level.

“You replace circles with cores. Four stars in the White Flame Formula. Four cores. It would be reasonable to consider the number of cores equivalent to the number of circles.”

Even if the power was absurd.

“To put it simply, each time your White Flame Formula advances, your Eternal... no, your Ring Flame Formula should grow stronger as well.”

At present, he could only record spells up to the Fourth Circle. But what if his White Flame Formula reached five stars? He would be able to record Fifth Circle spells in the Ring Flame Formula. Still, that was not certain. With a magic formula unlike anything before it, they must not presume what new peculiarities might emerge with each advancement.

“Please remain cautious. At present, the Ring Flame Formula has... no drawbacks. But some danger may arise as you advance.”

That was why they were reworking circle magic—to prepare for that possibility.

“... Goodness. The older I get, the more I worry. When I ought to be praising you more...”

“A little advice helps more than unconditional praise.”

“I appreciate your saying so, but...”

Lovellian hesitated, then shook his head.

“... I have told you several times already, but...”

“You mean I shouldn’t use higher-circle spells?”

“Yes.”

There would have been no need for such a warning with an ordinary circle magic formula. Circle magic was systematic and safe. With older magic formulas, mages who overestimated their abilities had frequently ruined themselves by letting their mana run wild. As circle magic formulas became widespread, such incidents declined dramatically.

A lower-circle mage could not cast higher-circle magic.

“You should be able to cast Fourth Circle... no, even Fifth Circle spells without difficulty. You have used them several times already... But do not attempt Sixth Circle magic.”

Though he could not record them in the Ring Flame Formula, Eugene could cast higher-circle spells that should normally have been beyond him. His innate computational ability and command of mana allowed him to cast even those spells quickly.

It was astonishing, but also worrying. There was no predicting what dangers might arise from freely using something he should not be able to use.

As a result, Lovellian had been forced to abandon the sleep schedule he had maintained for decades. Adapting existing circle magic to Eugene was difficult enough, but now he also had to consider potential dangers and the higher-circle spells Eugene should not cast.

“... When do you expect to finish your paper?”

“Before the end of summer... So, around September. For now, my goal is to finish it by my birthday.”

He had said the paper was merely for his own satisfaction, but it had greatly helped him organize what he had learned and mastered.

“You said you do not intend to return to the Lionheart family immediately, correct?”

“Yes. There’s no need to go straight back.”

“Lord Gilead and Lord Gerhard will be disappointed...”

“They have Cyan at home, don’t they? Since I’ve already been away for several years, they’ll forgive me for returning a little later.”

Ciel was not there.

She had left the main family the previous year and gone to Black Lion Castle in Uklas. She had become Carmen’s squire, just as she had hoped.

She did not stay there all the time. Even this year, she had returned to the main family for her birthday.

An invitation to the party had arrived, but Eugene had ignored it. In February, when Cyan and Ciel’s birthday fell, he had been too absorbed in his paper to spare a thought for anything else.

“If you are not going straight back to the main family, where do you intend to go?”

“... Ice crabs are supposed to be a specialty of the Kingdom of Ruhar. I’ve wanted to try them since I was little...”

“Must you travel all the way to Ruhar for that? There are plenty of restaurants specializing in ice crab right here on Aroth’s streets...”

“Wouldn’t eating them where they come from be more special?”

Of course, that was a lie. Ice crabs? He had eaten those snow-white king crabs several times during his winters with the main family.

“I did not realize you were a food enthusiast.”

“I’ve loved eating since I was a child.”

“I thought you just liked large cuts of meat...”

“I like them because they taste good.”

The northern Kingdom of Ruhar. The country founded by that idiot Moron.

“In Ruhar... uh... I’ll eat ice crab. Then... I’ll go to Nahama and see an oasis.”

“An oasis?”

“I heard Nahama’s cactus scorpions are a delicacy...”

That was another lie. Two hundred years ago, Anise, revered as a saint in the Holy Empire of Yuras, had set out on a pilgrimage without even telling the pope her purpose.

After wandering throughout the world, she had last been seen in the middle of Nahama’s desert.

“... You are fond of crustaceans, then.”

First Ruhar’s king crabs, and now Nahama’s cactus scorpions.

“... How about lobster for today’s meal?”

Eugene cleared his throat as he made the suggestion.