Chapter 13
News of my admission to the magic department spread quickly across the entire academy.
“Did you hear? That swordsmanship prodigy joined the magic department.”
“What? Why?”
“I heard he said there’s nothing left for him to learn in swordsmanship here.”
“That’s not what I heard. I heard he chose magic because it looked easy.”
“Whichever’s true, it’s annoying either way.”
The reactions were universally sour.
And it was no surprise—
What I had said sounded like I was looking down on both swordsmanship and magic.
To anyone who had seriously devoted themselves to either discipline, my words would be irritating at best.
“My little brother’s in his class. He says Jian’s exact words were: ‘I have talent for magic, so I chose the magic department.’”
“That’s basically the same as saying magic looks easy.”
“Pretty much.”
“…Now I’m mad.”
Among all groups, the magic department students were the most offended.
The idea of some sword-wielding genius treating magic like a casual hobby rubbed them the wrong way.
“Should we… teach him a lesson? I can get some people together.”
“And how exactly would you ‘teach him a lesson’? You think you can win if he draws his sword?”
“…Well…”
If this were anyone else, they’d have tried a group beatdown without hesitation.
But this was different—
Jian had been recognized by Sir Lionel, the captain of the Royal Knights.
Even 2nd- or 3rd-year magic students wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight.
“If we plan it right, maybe—”
“Forget it. The academy has its eyes on him right now. Touch him and it’ll backfire.”
“I mean… yeah, but still…”
“And I hear he’s close with the 3rd Princess of the Canaryon Kingdom. There’s nothing to gain by picking a fight.”
“…Ah. So the 3rd Princess has his back.”
Messing with someone who was not only the academy’s most promising talent but also favored by royalty?
That was suicide.
“So we just leave him alone?”
“Yeah. Even if it’s frustrating, we can’t do anything about it.”
Conversations like this were becoming common in the upper-year magic department.
“Welcome, Student Rozarin.”
“Vice Principal, why didn’t you tell anyone about what happened last night?”
Of course, the rumor had also reached Rozarin, the 2nd-year top student of the magic department.
She went straight to the vice principal’s office.
“You’re not trying to get him hated so you can force him back to the swordsmanship department, are you? If you are…”
Her eyes sharpened.
If the vice principal was using political tricks to send Jian back to swordsmanship, Rozarin was prepared to use all her connections to spread the truth about what had happened last night.
She wasn’t about to let that kind of talent be crushed before it even bloomed—
especially since she knew firsthand what it was like to be trampled down dozens, even hundreds of times in the past.
“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Student Rozarin.”
The vice principal gave a wry smile and gestured for her to relax.
“Why would I bother with such a petty scheme? If I wanted to keep him out of the magic department, I’d just refuse his application outright. And if I was plotting something, the first thing I’d do is make sure you kept quiet.”
“…True. Then why keep what happened last night a secret?”
“There are several reasons, but the biggest one is for impact.”
“…Impact?”
“Yes.”
The vice principal’s eyes gleamed with ambition.
“According to you, Jian’s magical talent is even greater than yours, right? That means he’ll stand out in class before the week’s over.”
“Most likely.”
“And what will happen then?”
“People’s perception will change instantly. They’ll realize he really is talented.”
“Exactly. A sudden reversal. That’s the impact I’m aiming for.”
He grinned widely.
“Perception changes hit harder when the gap between before and after is bigger.”
It’s like learning someone who seemed poor was secretly rich—
except the shock is far greater when you thought they were dirt poor.
“And getting people more interested in that freshman benefits you how?”
“Of course it benefits me. Jian will be the academy’s top prize asset. The higher his value, the higher my value rises too.”
“…Ah. I get it now.”
Rozarin narrowed her eyes.
“You’re planning to give interviews later saying things like, ‘I recognized Jian’s magical talent instantly,’ aren’t you?”
“…Ahem.”
The vice principal gave an awkward cough—she’d nailed it.
Yes, boosting her own prestige was part of the plan.
Rozarin muttered under her breath, “You never change.”
“So you’re not planning to send him back to swordsmanship?”
“No. I genuinely want him to achieve greatness in magic too.”
A sword genius alone was impressive, but…
A dual genius in both swordsmanship and magic—that was unforgettable.
“You really do have big ambitions.”
“Oh, come on. My ambitions are modest. All I want is to crush the current principal and take their place as head of Garam Academy.”
“…That’s huge.”
That was practically a world-domination-level goal.
“Fine. In that case, I won’t interfere.”
“Thanks. I knew I could count on yo—”
“As long as you pay me hush money.”
Rozarin’s lips curved into a sly grin.
“…Of course it’s not that easy.”
“It shouldn’t be easy. You’ve been shortchanging me for a year.”
“I see I’ve been raising a tiger cub.”
The vice principal sighed.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing big. Just give me all the things you promised before but never delivered.”
“Reasonable enough.”
“Right?”
Just then—
BOOOOOOM!
A massive explosion shook the air, coming from the 1st-year magic training ground.
It sounded like a mid-tier explosive spell going off.
That mana I just sensed… feels just like that freshman’s.
No way.
His mana pathways were clearly those of someone who’s never trained in magic.
He couldn’t have cast a mid-tier spell on his first day… could he?
…It’s impossible. But with his level of talent… maybe.
Even if unlikely, it was worth checking.
“I’m going to take a look.”
Rozarin turned and hurried out.
* * *
“…What is this…?”
Before him, Colo the instructor stood frozen at the devastation left by my spell—
the mid-tier magic Inferno.
“You… cast a mid-tier spell… this perfectly?”
I had just copied the exact Inferno Colo had shown as a demonstration.
Well… not exactly.
Mine was better.
So it works.
I stared at the hand I’d just cast with.
It was strange—
I’d never used magic before, never even seen it in person.
Yet I instinctively knew how to cast it.
Is this from my Mental stat? Or from “Loved by All Mana”?
Whatever the cause, I apparently had the ability to replicate magic just by seeing it once.
That’s ridiculously broken.
The hardest part of being a mage was learning new spells—
and this just erased that problem entirely.
A mage who doesn’t need spellbooks?
That’s a flawless mage.
Guess picking the magic route really was the right call.
While I was quietly pleased, Colo stormed toward me, eyes red.
“A swordsman like you… how can you— I get it. A scroll! You smuggled in a scroll and used it!”
…What an idiot.
I was already losing patience.
Should I just shut him up?
The answer came quickly.
Yeah. Let’s do it.
“Are you so unaccomplished, Instructor, that you can’t tell the difference between a scroll-cast spell and real magic?”
“…What?”
“And honestly—how would I even secretly tear a scroll in front of all these people? Use some common sense.”
“You little—”
His face went red.
“If it wasn’t a scroll, then how do you explain that Inferno? Don’t tell me you just copied mine after seeing it once.”
The students around us started murmuring.
“No way he hid a scroll that big.”
“He must’ve already learned Inferno before.”
“Wow… so the magic talent rumor was real.”
“Mid-tier magic at his age… that’s a real prodigy.”
They were making the logical conclusion.
Only Colo seemed too blinded by anger to see it.
Normally, I’d just go with the safe answer—“I already knew it.”
But after hearing Colo’s constant mocking, I didn’t feel like playing nice.
“I thought I could copy it after seeing it. So I tried. And it worked.”
“…What?”
The entire training ground froze in shock.
“Don’t spout nonsense. That’s impossible.”
“Want to test it?”
“…Test it?”
“Cast any spell, and I’ll copy it exactly.”
I met his glare with confidence.
He hesitated, clearly wondering if I was serious—
then smirked.
“Fine. Let’s see you try.”
Colo raised his hand toward the field.
A huge magic circle appeared before his palm.
Then two smaller circles formed on either side, rotating together like gears.
Flames roared—
and a wall of fire sprang up about ten meters away.
Seriously? Fire Wall?
It was just another mid-tier spell, like Inferno.
“Your turn.”
He smirked triumphantly.
I stepped up beside him, hand outstretched toward the field.
“But Instructor… your Fire Wall is too narrow.”
“…What?”
His was barely three meters wide—useless in real combat.
“As I understand it, Fire Wall is mainly for blocking enemy movement. Shouldn’t it be at least ten meters wide?”
A large magic circle formed in front of me, two smaller ones locking into place—
but my circles spun far faster than his.
“In open terrain, you’d probably want at least twenty meters.”
The sound of spinning magic filled the air—
and my Fire Wall blazed forward over ten meters,
then curved smoothly to block an even larger area.
“And since it’s for blocking, it should last at least five minutes.”
My wall kept burning steadily.
I met Colo’s eyes.
“How’s that? Is that proof enough?”
He said nothing.
Couldn’t say anything.
“If you’re done—”
“That’s not proof.”
A familiar voice came from behind.
“Whoa… it’s Senior Rozarin.”
“The 2nd-year magic top student?”
“What’s she doing here?”
Rozarin walked toward me, eyes shining.
“Fire Wall is common magic. Using it doesn’t prove you can replicate any spell you see.”
She stopped beside me, facing the field, and raised her hand.
“To prove it, you’d need to copy an unknown spell. Like… one of my original creations.”
Two large magic circles formed before her, surrounded by five smaller ones.
“So—try copying mine.”
I instantly recognized it.
Rozarin’s original spell…
I’d seen it hundreds of times in the game—
the one that made her the best mage: Ceiling Blast.
But something was off.
The formation looked… incomplete.
Light flared like a laser into the sky—
definitely Ceiling Blast, but not its perfected form.
“Your turn.”
I said nothing, just raised my hand slowly.
The real Ceiling Blast is like this…
Two large circles, five small—
then ten tiny auxiliary circles locking them together.
There.
A perfected Ceiling Blast fired from my hand.
“…What?”
Rozarin’s eyes widened beyond belief.
