Faced with a scene that brought a strong sense of déjà vu, I struggled to piece together an answer, realizing the reason must have been the significant amount of time that had passed since my reincarnation.
The experimental space I accessed via the elevator resembled something akin to a shooting range.
It was a space divided into rectangular zones, designed to hang practice targets, clearly tailored for the testing of direct attack magic and tools, with ample depth to accommodate such experiments. In these zones, a number of young aspirants to the title of combat mage were fervently wielding attack magic.
The reason for the high level of energy among the students seemed to stem from an upcoming event called the Artistry Evaluation Meeting scheduled for the new year—an event akin to a New Year’s entertainment showcase. It appeared that catching the attention of a professor during this event could lead to valuable guidance related to one’s research or publication, which explained why the more ambitious students were throwing themselves wholeheartedly into making an impression.
And yet, reflecting on this, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for my position. After all, I was someone who directly received guidance from two individuals whose brilliance as scholars was undeniable, even if, personally, they were people I preferred not to have too much interaction with. How enviable, some might say—but believe me, if anyone wanted to switch places with me, I’d gladly let them.
Colorful magic flitted around the space, a mesmerizing sight. But staring too intently might provoke suspicion, so I quickly made my way to the booth I had reserved beforehand. After all, anyone preparing for presentation would certainly not want their spell constructs scrutinized.
… Hmm, there appears to be someone rather out of place over there.
Leaning against the side wall, stood a man whose elegance would put even the moon and flowers to shame—a man so refined, not a single fault could be found in his appearance. Judging by his looks, he was probably in his early to mid-twenties. Adorning his tall, yet not overly slender frame, was an impeccably tailored navy robe, its quality instantly suggesting someone of high standing. His meticulously slicked-back platinum blonde hair looked like an art piece, while his pale face had an almost cruelly sharp intelligence, akin to that of a villainous actor.
Most striking, however, were his silver eyes. In the melting pot of races that was the Imperial Capital, encounters with beautifully colored eyes were not uncommon, but silver eyes were something I hadn’t seen before. They had such a luster that even the finest silverware polished by skilled artisans would pale in comparison. Their beauty was so profound that if someone claimed them to be artificial implants, one might believe them. Gazing into those eyes felt like a moment when your heart skipped a beat due to sheer intensity.
It seems that since entering the Magic Academy, I’ve had a peculiar connection to supernaturally handsome individuals.
Though tempted to observe him further, knowing he seemed to be someone of importance, I decided it would be wise to suppress my curiosity and step into my booth. Likely, he was here during our practice, scouting for promising talents, much like a scout looking for potential players. Given how the reputation of students could affect professors and researchers, his presence was not entirely unexpected.
The entrances of the private booths were segmented by wooden frames, preventing any prying eyes on both sides. However, inside, the magic-release lanes were separated only by semi-transparent barriers.
Apparently, the barriers automatically generated when external magic energy was supplied, as evidenced by a job listing I had once seen for part-time work collecting magic energy at these boards. Some people use this setup to earn pocket money through their magic prowess, while others utilize it for training meant to increase their base power by discharging magic, similar to scenes from battle manga.
In short, it was a setup allowing for experimentation with powerful spells without much worry.
Having set up my tools, I got to work on the spell formations.
What I drew out were packets wrapped in oil paper containing the catalysts for flash and thunder magic. However, their contents were not powdered dolomite but instead a type of fire retardant and a small amount of copper oxide, both commonly available—much like buying cheap candy. The fire retardant could be procured from industrial stores while the copper oxide was obtainable from shops dealing with catalysts.
The first stage of my multiple parallel spell formations had already been completed previously in an old mansion, where Instructor Agrippina had assisted in recovering a set of alchemical tools. Through the magic of “Transmutation” and “Manifestation,” specific components from the fire retardant had been purified, extracted, and increased.
This tiny amount was then carefully blended through the intricate workings of “Transfer” techniques, a process that normally required large-scale industrial equipment. Using “Invisible Hands,” the packet was blown away from my palm, and with a gentle, precise “Ignition” spell, it would ignite before the target.
And thus, the incendiary thermite-based magical operation would be completed.
“Ah!”
A flash of blinding light emerged, and despite the isolation barrier, the heat wave still scorched my face. The hanging metal practice target dissolved instantly.
“Heh…”
The result was far more powerful than I had anticipated, and I couldn’t help but let out a slight exclamation. The murmurs around me indicated others had noticed the commotion caused by the bright flash, but it wasn’t my fault; this was a designated area for such magical experiments, after all.
In short, what I had done was create an experiment in low-cost, high-powered magic based on chemical reactions, particularly the thermite reaction I happened to remember.
The alum used as a fire retardant contains aluminum—albeit in quantities incomparable to bauxite—but through alchemy, it’s possible to extract, transform, and amplify it alongside other base metals. Mixed with iron oxide and ignited, it triggers an oxidation-reduction reaction, generating temperatures exceeding four thousand degrees in the blink of an eye.
It’s true that magic could accomplish the same with enough energy, dissolving and even melting iron, but that ability was reserved for master mages with exceptional reserves and control of magic power—not something I was currently equipped to handle. Using physical phenomena and catalysts, however, offered a more cost-effective solution. Thus, I had conceived this innovative combo.
Theoretically, this temperature could melt most metals, a feat even the most durable barriers would struggle to withstand, surpassing general heat resistance with ease. Moreover, the heat was sustained by a reduction reaction, so it would burn fiercely regardless of water exposure or oxygen deprivation until a magic intervention completely neutralized it.
Simple, cost-effective, high-powered, and difficult to counteract—a perfect combination for taking down even the toughest foes! I was thrilled upon its completion… but still, quite intimidated.
Watching the experimental metal target dissolve instantly, not just melting but sinking into the stone floor, left an unnerving impression. This was no mere tool for humans or ordinary life forms; it was something that could erase all traces. Furthermore, with heat waves and intense light—especially ultraviolet rays—among its by-products, further adjustments would be necessary. If used recklessly at close range, I myself might suffer the consequences.
Attack magic, at its core, is inherently violent and destructive, be it setting something ablaze, freezing it solid, or invoking lightning. Yet this particular instance seemed… overly extreme. Drawing from the achievements of 20th-century scientists and bending their principles into the framework of magic had resulted in an almost unhinged level of destruction.
I pondered what would happen if I increased the catalyst amounts further…
Lost in thought over the potency of my creation, I suddenly noticed an issue.
The floor appeared to be cooking, gradually melting…
Ah, oh no! In my effort to maintain efficiency and prevent loss of heat, I had also woven in a “Thermal Retention” magic. If this continues, the damage might extend to the floor below—assuming there even is a floor below—and I’d surely get in trouble!
I attempted to rectify the situation, only to find myself vexed by the fire’s persistent nature, unaffected by water or oxygen deprivation. In the end, I resorted to using a “Spatial Transition Barrier” to exile the fire into another dimension, incurring a slight headache during the afternoon as a cost of the process.
—
The gentleman with eyes that strongly imparted an impression of the color silver stepped into the booth vacated by the platinum-haired youth, who had exited with a pale face.
The flash and heat wave that should not have pierced the barriers were not those of an ordinary trainee. Entering the booth, where remnants of heat had left the protective barrier whitened and discolored, the air was filled with the pungent smell of burnt metal. Gently pinching the bridge of his finely formed nose, the gentleman stepped into the lane where residual heat still lingered.
“…Magic.”
The elegant sway of his platinum locks from the thermal current, the oppressive heat that even late summer winds couldn’t abate, all spoke volumes about the potency of the magic employed here.
“Pure magical thermal energy or any kind of oil was not used.”
Though it was an established truth within the Magic Academy that heat had a lower limit but no upper bound, the correlation between consumed magical power and the heat it could produce was well-understood. Creating a flame capable of melting metal was by no means an easy feat.
Thus, the complete dissolving of the heat-resistant synthetic target, enchanted to repel shockwaves, suggested something extraordinary—a form of magic or, more aptly, an entirely new spell had been employed.
However, his intuition dismissed the possibility of a large-scale magical manifestation. The residual magical traces were too faint; the amount of magic used here was equivalent to several small spells strung together. Any attempts at obfuscation or magic cleansing would have required far more deliberation than what the hurried youth had displayed.
Additionally, there were no signs of oil-based catalysts having been used, which piqued his interest further. Had such catalysts been used, the ambient air would feel distinctly greasy.
He extended a finger into the molten cavern, whose heat could still easily scorch human flesh.
“Hmm.”
Instantaneously, the skin burned away, muscles ignited, cells evaporated into charred bone. Yet, no trace of the agony such a wound could normally inflict was apparent. The gentleman observed his index finger’s skeletal remains with detached curiosity.
“A heat output akin to strategic-level operations.”
While the range couldn’t compare, the intense inferno, similar to what multiple combat mages could conjure together on a battlefield, resonated from the hole.
“Very intriguing. The heat doesn’t match the destruction; the neatly erased base of the melted stone floor—none of this corresponds to ordinary spellwork… it’s a new spell.”
Murmuring his interest, the gentleman turned on his heel. A new glove drawn from his pocket revealed his hand, completely restored, as if the searing had never occurred.
Given the timing, the youth must’ve been here trying out his work in preparation for the upcoming New Year’s Artistry Evaluation Meeting. Every year brought forth a new crop of promising young talents, much to the gentleman’s delight, eagerly awaited as the event always loosened purse strings.
This year seemed promising, and to keep the excitement alive, the gentleman opted against investigating the perpetrator behind the scorched floor too thoroughly.
After all, fresh surprises are always more exciting, and spoilers, no matter how long awaited, can only be enjoyed once.
“Though this visit to the Imperial Capital was troublesome, there were certainly silver linings. Observing the youth is indeed an enjoyable pastime.”
With a lighthearted step, the gentleman made his way toward the Imperial City to complete his tasks.
—
[Tips] Experiment rooms are categorized by maintenance costs, with different levels of barriers depending on usage—from safe zones for novice listeners practicing low-risk magic to specialized containment areas for highly dangerous research. While generally safe within “specification limits,” the rooms cater to various magical outputs.
[Tips] Strategic-level spells, also known as ceremonial magic or grand magic, require coordination among multiple sorcerers, extensive support arrays, or lengthy incantations. Designed to handle massive power output and extreme range, they often require a team of dedicated experts to manage.
