Episode 719
by CristaeInevitably, when things felt foreboding, things were foreboding.
After Professor Voladi, deep in thought, started suggesting options (among them: springing on underclassmen at sight, blinding them, or knocking them out), Lee Han quickly refused each.
‘Should’ve asked a different professor!’
“Professor. I’d like as peaceful a solution as possible.”
“Why?”
“…Because I don’t want weird rumors among the first-years? And I’d rather not get revenge when they become second-years.”
“Hm.”
Voladi wondered to himself if Lee Han wasn’t strong enough already to handle any revenge—but didn’t voice it.
It’s never bad to be cautious. For a battle mage, thinning the enemy herd was always a good strategy.
“What I want is—well, a quicker invisibility spell, or a magic that warns me if first-years approach, Professor.”
“But that’d be far too easy.”
“…Painful as it is, I guess I’ll just have to endure. Sometimes you have to use these simple spells.”
Lee Han had no idea why “but” and “too easy” always came before “simple” in this school.
And frankly, he was afraid to ask.
Voladi, respecting his wishes, nodded.
“Understood.”
“Thank you.”
“You know unvoiced-casting magic, of course.”
Lee Han was appalled by the immediate leap to a master-level technique.
Reciting incantations is the magical foundation tying will to spell for every mage.
Even if you skip gestures or reagents, you always speak the words. That’s the linchpin of all Imperium magic.
‘Is he telling me to die?’
Skipping incantation isn’t about time-saving; it’s a forbidden zone for mage safety.
If you can cast simply by will, what if you’re dreaming, or overwhelmed by emotion? You might cast by accident.
Indeed, most magical accidents in the imperial news came from careless mages trying unvoiced-casting and accidentally summoning creatures from another dimension.
Only with perfect self-mastery can you hope to pull this off…
“Impossible!”
“I know. It’s dangerous, so don’t try it in secret.”
“…”
Lee Han was honestly impressed by Voladi’s ability to be even more maddening than last year.
Without realizing his apprentice’s cursing, Voladi pressed on with more careful warnings.
“So, you need to practice incantation-shortening.”
Shortened incantations, or compression, just means compacting a full spell into the shortest chant possible.
It’s much safer than unvoiced, but consumes intense focus and mana.
Luckily, Lee Han’s mana reserves were up to the task.
“But what about my focus, Professor?”
No one’s mind is infinite—without enough clarity, magic just fizzles, or leaves you exhausted.
Voladi interpreted the question differently.
“You’ll be fine.”
“…”
Trying to ask for tips to boost willpower, Lee Han stared at the professor in disbelief.
That’s your advice?
“Practice spell storage as well as shortening.”
Spell storage.
Simply, any means of pre-loading a spell in advance.
Primordial method? The magic scroll. Store a spell in a scroll, tear it for activation.
But scrolls cost a lot and were bulky. Not ideal for battle mages.
The best fighters etched patterns with magical ink on their arms, or stored spells in their cloaks or trinkets.
Spirits or summoned creatures could even be convinced to “hold” spells for you…
‘Logically sound.’
Voladi’s advice was unassailable: If you don’t want to bludgeon or paralyze juniors, get faster with invisibility and pre-load your spells.
Any prepared spell will fire off that much quicker.
“Professor, what method do you prefer?”
“On my forearms.”
From elbow to wrist—easy to reach and quick for a mage to trigger.
Voladi rolled up his sleeve, revealing several intricate, terrifyingly powerful spells.
“These auto-fire when I’m attacked. In order: -Baegrek’s Revenge-, -Random Transference-. And this one… can’t say.”
Lee Han was curious about the third.
“Is it that dangerous?”
“If you learn what it is, it attacks you.”
“!”
Combat mages, after all, are prized and targeted both. The less the enemy knows about your key spells, the better.
Lee Han himself had secret spells he kept for emergencies, like Professor Voladi.
But a spell that attacks knowing its own identity—that was a different level.
‘So that’s what it means to be a true battle mage…’
Interpreting Lee Han’s awe as interest, Voladi encouraged him.
“Someday, you’ll learn tactics like that.”
“Yes… Hold on, if I ever pick it up by accident, won’t recognizing it trigger the attack?”
“Correct.”
“So I get attacked by my own spell?”
Voladi nodded. Lee Han swore inside.
‘Is he nuts?’
Having finished his curses, Voladi at last explained in detail how to etch spells onto the skin for storage.
Third-circle magic, -Lesser Spell Storage-.
Two spells of your own circle or lower could be stored.
This one, being rooted in enchanting, was trickier than most spells of its level.
The more disciplines you layered in, the more complex it got.
But Voladi, knowing Lee Han’s level from Verdus’s class, only watched.
And sure enough, after a few tries, Lee Han had the hang of it.
“This right, Professor?”
“Yes, very good.”
“Is this considered an easy spell?”
Voladi only smiled faintly; Lee Han took it as encouragement.
‘Must be relatively easy.’
But the next part proved it wasn’t so simple.
Lee Han could etch them—yet whenever he tried to trigger the spell, some error crept in.
“?”
He wondered if he just hadn’t mastered it; maybe third-circle was still tough.
Professor Voladi said,
“You have too many runic marks.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have a lot of marks from powerful entities.”
Spirit marks, marks from beyond, and so on—they’re all potent.
The stronger the being that made the mark, the more likely it was to disrupt new ones drawn near it.
Lee Han had put powerful marks from Perkuntra, Upinum, and others onto his wrist, so of course new spells were skittering out of alignment.
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Most people never inscribe this many, so they don’t notice.”
“…Any way to fix it?”
“Try calculating for distortion.”
“……”
That amounted to “just get good.” Lee Han held in his frown and asked,
“Any… easier tips?”
“Draw higher up.”
A simple but effective trick. Lee Han nodded.
“That’ll work. Then—”
“Here.”
Voladi pointed to the crook between Lee Han’s upper and lower arm.
Lee Han answered awkwardly.
“I can’t; that’s where the Phoenix mark is.”
Professor moved the wand higher.
“That’s where Verdus’s mark is…”
“……”
-Wardanaz. It’s been a while since term started and we lost touch. Nary a friendly vibe between towers, but I think you’d agree we still respect each other as mages. If you want to meet, swap stories and exchange info, come to the spot we all met last time.
Salko Tutanta
“Not a trap, surely?”
“Salko’s the type who’d… well, yeah, maybe—probably not, though.”
Lee Han addressed his friends as they moved together.
Truth was, all the Blue Dragon friends felt the need.
Barely into second year, information overflowed—more than all of last year combined.
If this were last year, they’d meet up and chat freely, but the new ban had made that hard.
-If White Tiger Tower attacks, let us know. We’ll take revenge.
-Thanks, senior.
-Duty of a senior.
-Then, senior, can we get a piece of your bread?
-Are you nuts? That’s out of line!
Blue Dragon seniors weren’t friendly or visible, but they were always up for war with other towers.
It led to scenes like:
-Oh, Angrago’s waving.
-He has the nerve to gesture at my junior?!
-Senior, he just waved.
-You must have missed it. White Tigers never just wave. Probably slipped a middle finger, right?
So, bold gatherings had to be discreet. Salko’s offer was for the good reason.
Lee Han and friends, after checking the area, went to the old storeroom, double-checked the basement door, and went down.
This was where, last year, they’d set off the teleport statue and made the great escape from the principal’s villa.
“Wardanaz!”
“Wardanaz, are you really in every club? Like, actually?”
“……”
Even meeting old friends, the first question was about that. Lee Han’s friends were already wearing the look that said, “He might be.”
“…Yeah.”
“No way! You don’t have two bodies!”
“Even two wouldn’t be enough!”
“Everyone, over here! Don’t crowd up there!”
Salko’s gruff voice carried over.
Lee Han strode in.
Most of the second-years from each tower were there, talking.
“Moradi. Good to see you.”
“Yeah, likewise.”
“What, did you eat something bad?”
“Hey, mind sliding over—”
Giselle grumbled, standing up—then, realizing the alternative was sitting next to Salko, she hesitated.
Salko glared at her pointedly.
“…Guess I’d rather sit by Wardanaz. Sit down.”
“Can I just go anywhere else?”
Seated between them, Lee Han was forcibly pulled in by the arms.