Vol 3 Chapter 46.1 – Boyhood: Winter, Age Thirteen・Part 2

Staring at a scene that gave me a terrible sense of déjà vu, I struggled to dredge up the answer—it was probably because so much time had passed since I was reborn.

The experimental space I arrived at via the elevator had the feel of a shooting range.

The area was partitioned into long, vertical sections. The space, built to allow for hanging practice targets, seemed to have been designed with experiments for direct-attack magic and tools in mind. It was quite deep, and a number of young people who looked to be aspiring combat mages were actively practicing their attack spells.

Apparently, the reason there were so many fired-up students was because of an event called the Skills Exhibition held after the New Year. In short, it was basically a New Year’s entertainment showcase, but if you caught a professor’s eye, you could get advice on your presentation or research. As a result, all the highly ambitious students were desperate to stand out.

When I thought about it that way, it struck me what an incredible luxury it was to be personally tutored by two people who, while brilliant scholars, I’d rather not get personally involved with. Then again, if anyone’s jealous, I’d be more than happy to trade places with them.

The sight of the colorful magic flying about was interesting to watch, but I figured I’d be mistaken for a scout if I stared too intently, so I decided to head straight for the booth I had reserved. If they were working hard to prepare for their presentations, they surely wouldn’t want anyone seeing their spell formulas.

…Oh? Looks like there’s a guy here who doesn’t quite belong.

Leaning against the hallway-side wall was a man of such impeccable beauty that he would put the moon and flowers to shame. He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties. His frame, slender but not too thin, was adorned with a well-tailored navy blue robe that revealed his high rank at a single glance. His platinum blond hair, carefully slicked with pomade, was as orderly as a work of art, and his pale face was so sharp and intelligent he could have passed for an actor who specialized in villainous roles.

But what truly drew the eye was his silver irises. Walking through the melting pot of the Imperial Capital, one could see eyes of every rich hue, but this was the first time I had ever seen silver ones. They possessed a luster that would make even silverware polished with the lifeblood of a master craftsman seem dull—a beauty so profound that I would have believed they were prosthetic eyes made of real silver. A direct gaze from them felt like it had enough pressure to stop your heart for a few seconds.

You know, ever since coming to the Magician’s Academy, I seem to have a strange connection with unearthly beauties.

I was seized by the urge to keep staring, but the last thing I needed was to get chewed out for glaring at someone so obviously important, so I suppressed the impulse and entered my booth. He’s probably one of those talent scouts, I figured. The kind who shows up at the training grounds to find promising athletes. A disciple’s future is tied to their professor’s, after all. It wasn’t strange to think some zealous bigwig might come scouting to call dibs on promising young students.

The individual booths were partitioned by wooden frames where people stood, making it impossible to peek at those on either side. However, the lanes where the magic was actually fired were separated only by a translucent barrier.

Apparently, a mechanism was built-in that automatically generated the barrier by accumulating mana from an external source. I’d seen a notice on the bulletin board recruiting for a part-time job to supply mana to this place. It was said that students who prided themselves on their mana reserves used it to earn pocket money, or for training like something out of a battle manga, raising their own power levels by expending their mana.

In other words, it was safe to let loose with a few things.

I pulled out the materials I’d prepared and immediately began setting up the spell formula.

What I took out was a cartridge, with the catalyst wrapped in oil paper, identical to the one I used for the flash-and-bang spell. This time, however, the contents weren’t powdered dolomite, but a type of fireproofing agent and a small amount of copper oxide. Both were common items; the former from an industrial supply shop, and the latter from a workshop that deals in catalysts, both as easy to buy as cheap candy.

The first stage of the multiple, parallel spell formulas was already complete. Using the alchemy set that Master Agrippina had recovered for me from the mansion, I had purified, extracted, and amplified a certain component from the fireproofing agent using the magic of 《Transmutation》 and 《Materialization》.

I used a 《Transition》 spell to mix a minuscule amount of that component at a level that would normally be impossible without large-scale industrial equipment. All that was left was to use 《Unseen Hand》 to launch the cartridge itself from my own hand, and once it was in front of the target, ignite it with a delicate 《Ignition》 spell…

And the incendiary thermite magic spell would be complete.

“Whoa!”

A flash of light so bright it was blinding and a wave of heat that seared my face even through the isolation barrier erupted in an instant, and the hanging metal practice target instantly dissolved.

“Hngh…”

I couldn’t help but let out a noise at the sheer power, far greater than I’d expected. I could hear a commotion from the surrounding booths, where the flash had penetrated the barriers and blinded everyone. This isn’t my fault, right? This place is for using this kind of magic, isn’t it?

To explain what I’d done, I had tried using the thermite reaction—which, for some reason, I still remembered—as a low-cost, high-power magic experiment that leveraged a chemical reaction.

Alum, which is used as a fireproofing agent, contains aluminum—an amount incomparable to bauxite, of course—but it can be extracted with alchemy, then mixed with other base metals to be converted and amplified. When that is mixed with iron oxide and ignited, the reduction reaction of the oxidized metal momentarily generates temperatures of over four thousand degrees Celsius.

It’s true that magic can produce enough output to melt, let alone cut, iron. However, that is the domain of a great archmage, one blessed with both immense mana storage and instantaneous release capabilities. For me to attempt it, unfortunately, would require a great deal of training. But then a thought occurred to me. Couldn’t I pull it off for a reasonable cost by using magic to assist a physical phenomenon, with a catalyst to help it along? That line of thinking led me to perfect this combo.

Theoretically, the extreme heat, capable of melting most metals, would be difficult to defend against even with a barrier and would easily bypass ordinary heat resistance. On top of that, since the heat is generated by a reduction reaction, it will continue to burn unabated whether you douse it with water or cut off its oxygen supply. To stop it, you would have no choice but to use magic to nullify the phenomenon itself.

Simple, low-cost, high-power, and difficult to counter. A combo that would even work on a target with inhuman toughness! I did a little dance when I first perfected it, but… man, this is terrifying.

The sight of that target, made of some mystery metal durable enough for attack magic, melting in an instant—the liquefied metal not just spreading across the stone floor but melting its way down into it—was, in a word, horrifying. This is not something you should ever use on a living creature, let alone a person. There’d be nothing left. On top of that, it needs refinement; the byproducts, like the heatwave and the intense light—that powerful ultraviolet radiation—are no joke. If I set this off at close range, I’d take damage myself.