NOVPUBRine’s statement was more than enough to shock the rest of the students.
“...What did she just say?”
“Don’t tell me she didn’t even make a magic circle? And now she’s acting like she’s got nothing to present?”
“On Professor Ludger’s exam? She’s nuts.”
While the students murmured among themselves, Ludger silently stared at Rine before slowly speaking.
“Then what are you planning to do? Should I take it that you don’t have a magic circle to demonstrate?”
Rine shook her head.
“No. I did make a magic circle. It’s just...”
“Just?”
“It didn’t feel right to draw it on parchment. So I’m going to show it to you directly with the technique.”
He considered asking just how impressive a circle she must’ve made—but the unwavering look in her eyes told him this wasn’t some bluff.
“...Alright. Show me.”
But if it didn’t live up to expectations, not even Rine would be able to avoid the consequences.
Rine steadied her breath and summoned her mana.
She had put a lot of thought into the magic circle she would present for the exam.
Other students had simply used the circle to show off elemental manifestations, but she couldn’t do even that—because she possessed non-attributed mana.
From the start, she had been at a disadvantage. So she’d resolved to give it her all, do the best with what she had.
She couldn’t deny she’d felt completely lost in the beginning.
If not for the book Ludger had lent her on non-attributed mana, she definitely would have been.
But thanks to reading it, she’d been able to grasp the direction she needed to go in—and didn’t give up.
And now.
She would prove it.
‘I’ll show you, Professor. That I’ve changed this much.’
She extended both hands and slowly began channeling her mana. With her full focus, the world seemed to blur until only she remained.
And then, before her, a spell formation drawn in lines of pure mana began to float into view.
Slowly.
But distinctly.
Ludger’s brow twitched as he observed the form take shape.
Of course, his expression quickly returned to normal, so no student noticed the change.
Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the magic circle Rine had produced.
“...A three-dimensional magic circle.”
“As expected, Professor—he saw it immediately. Yes, that’s right.”
Ludger looked at the magic circle floating before him and assessed it with those words.
While the other circles had been flat, two-dimensional diagrams drawn on parchment, Rine’s was a 3D construct.
This formation, resembling a Rubik’s Cube, was known in mathematics as a three-dimensional magic square, and in the occult as a “Magic Cube.”
Ludger scrutinized the flow of mana carved into the spell. He wanted to see whether it was just for show.
But—
‘It’s flawless.’
Not a single flaw could be found.
Every horizontal, vertical, heightwise, and diagonal axis of the cube—and even its planes—had identical mana sums.
No matter the direction, the mana flowed with perfect balance, unbroken and even. It was a truly flawless three-dimensional magic square.
‘She researched magical constants to this degree? That shouldn’t have been enough time to produce this result... and yet she did it.’
Perhaps it was Ludger’s continued silence that made her anxious.
Rine, who had initially stood with confidence, gradually began to shrink her shoulders.
“Rine.”
Ludger finally spoke, taking his eyes off the cube.
“Your score is an A+.”
“...What?”
“No. In fact, I regret that I can only give you that much. The magic circle you created is perfect. Outstanding. Truly impressive.”
“Wha... What?”
Rine couldn’t gather her thoughts in the face of Ludger’s praise.
Perfect. Impressive. Outstanding.
Words he had never said before—and didn’t seem likely to say again.
But Ludger meant it. He wasn’t just saying it to be polite.
‘She has a natural talent for this.’
Because of her non-attributed mana, Rine couldn’t use elemental magic like the others. Even basic mana emission had been difficult for her.
But perhaps that was why she’d gained something others hadn’t.
Rine had exceptional spatial perception—especially when it came to three-dimensional structures. Far beyond her peers.
‘No—there’s no point in comparing. She’s simply on another level.’
Even Flora Lumos, who had built a logarithmic spiral using her circle, was undeniably a gifted student.
But at least in this moment, even Flora would have to yield a step to Rine.
“Rine.”
“...Yes?”
“Rine.”
“Y-Yes? Me?”
“Who else here is named Rine?”
“Oh, right. You were calling me...”
Rine still seemed in a daze.
She had done her best not to disappoint Professor Ludger—but she never imagined receiving this kind of evaluation.
“Rine. How did you come up with this magic circle? I mean, the concept alone is impressive, but to actually implement it as a spell in such a short time... it seems almost impossible.”
“Uh, well... that’s...”
Rine calmly began to explain how she’d ended up creating such a formation.
“At first, I was just trying to come up with something new. But thinking alone wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I decided to just throw myself at it and tried manipulating my mana in different ways...”
“And?”
“And somehow...”
“You’re saying you finished it by accident?”
Rine nodded shyly.
“I didn’t plan it, but... something about how my mana flows—it just... felt natural? I followed that flow, and when I tried unfolding the circle I had in mind, this is what came out.”
—So basically, she was saying it just happened.
The kind of thing only someone who’d reached the pinnacle of talent could say.
‘It just happened? What a joke.’
‘She should lie more believably.’
The students who heard that thought Rine was putting on an act to impress Ludger.
But Ludger’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
He knew better than anyone that Rine wasn’t the type to lie just to make herself look good.
She was telling the truth.
‘Her mana flowed naturally...?’
Normally, mana doesn’t move on its own without the caster’s intent.
She probably wasn’t even aware of it—she had done it instinctively.
And the reason she’d suddenly shown this much ability despite remaining unremarkable until now was likely because of the book Ludger had given her recently on non-attributed mana.
‘Maybe that book acted as a kind of trigger.’
Non-attributed mana was still a mysterious power with unknown origins.
But after seeing the magic circle Rine had created, Ludger had a clearer sense of what it was suited for.
“Professor? Are you alright?”
“...It’s nothing. Anyway, that was an excellent magic circle. Well done.”
“Ah, yes.”
Rine couldn’t shake the feeling that Ludger was hurrying to wrap things up.
But she couldn’t ask why—because just for a moment, his expression had been far too serious.
“I trust everyone remembers their score. If you’ve already managed to forget it, check the notice board outside the lecture hall. I’ll have the teaching assistant post it shortly.”
At that, the students who’d gotten low grades sighed heavily.
“The top five scorers in the second test are: Flora Lumos and Rine with A+, Julia Plumehart with an A, Iona Obelli and Aidan with B+. I didn’t intend for it, but the numbers ended up fitting perfectly.”
Those five who were called by name had earned the right to receive the second framework.
Ludger explained that he was too busy to distribute them right away, but promised to hand them out once the upcoming Magic Festival was over.
“Ugh... I seriously wanna die. What the hell is a D, even?”
“D? You’re lucky. I got an E-minus. Not technically the lowest score, but is there even a real difference at that point?”
“I should’ve tried harder...”
The fact that only two out of the top five scorers were nobles made the noble students’ expressions twist with unease.
And to make matters worse, one of the five wasn’t even a commoner but a demi-human—specifically, a beastkin.
That they, who had received a longer, more prestigious education, had scored lower than a so-called barbaric beastkin made it all feel like a bad dream to them.
“If any of you have complaints about your exam result, come speak to me directly. If you genuinely think you were wronged, I’ll review it personally. I’ll make time.”
When Ludger said that, adding weight to his voice, the students who’d been grumbling under their breath quickly shut up.
And with that, the second test came to an end.
The students began gathering their things. Some were headed back to the dorms to rest now that the exam was over, while others were hurrying off to take tests for other classes.
Ludger’s gaze lingered on Rine, who still stood there, looking dazed.
[Non-attributed mana...]
Even Ludger didn’t fully understand its origin or true nature—it was a mysterious ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) force.
Even the books on non-attributed mana rarely detailed what it truly was. Most focused on how to cast magic with it.
[The mana’s flow naturally aligned with the structure of the three-dimensional magic square. It didn’t seem like she forced it into place. Could it mean her “magic compatibility rate” is high?]
Magic compatibility rate.
It was a number that indicated how well a mage’s mana harmonized with a specific spell.
Even if two people used the same spell, the result could vary depending on the nature of their mana.
The most typical example was the offensive spell [Roaring Flame]. A mage with fire-element mana would produce a far more powerful version than one with water-element mana.
This difference came from a higher compatibility rate.
[But non-attributed mana... usually, it has the lowest compatibility rate with every type of spell. And yet, in that magic circle, it was different. Does that mean it’s specialized in that area?]
Maybe.
Ludger entertained the possibility.
That non-attributed mana wasn’t simply unspecialized or elementless—but something of a much higher dimension. A force the people of this world had no means to measure yet.
[Like... spatial magic.]
There were countless types of magic in this world. But one magic, and only one, had never existed—space magic.
Teleportation, blink, all that stuff—people here treated them like fantasy tales.
[It’s ridiculous. There’s anti-magic, dream magic, divine magic, painting magic, origami magic, and who knows what else... but not a single form of spatial magic?]
Even more absurd, magic that manipulated “time” existed, and yet “space” was somehow absent.
Granted, the so-called time magic wasn’t exactly practical or highly functional. But it still existed.
Which meant that in this entire world, Ludger was the only one who could use space magic.
[If Rine’s mana really is connected to spatial magic...]
It was still just a hypothesis, so he couldn’t say anything for sure.
But if that hypothesis turned out to be true...
[Then I need that power. No matter what.]
* * *
Flora Lumos was walking down the hallway with her close friend Sheryl Wagner, heading to their next exam.
As they walked, Sheryl asked quietly:
“Flora. How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“That magic circle. You placed first with it, didn’t you? Professor Ludger’s class... it feels so different, and it’s really hard. How do you always do so well in it?”
Sheryl’s question was probably a sincere compliment, born from admiration for Flora’s genius.
But Flora couldn’t be pleased.
“I wasn’t first.”
“But you got the highest score.”
“...Do I really have to say that out loud? I wasn’t the only one who got the highest score.”
“You mean that girl, Rine?”
“What was that magic circle even supposed to be? And that professor too... He’s never praised me like that...”
Not that many times.
Honestly, she felt... bitter. Even a little angry.
She suddenly remembered bumping into Rine near Professor Ludger’s office.
They hadn’t spoken—they didn’t know each other. She’d just ignored her at the time. But thinking back, it had been suspicious.
[...That little brat.]
Flora bit her lip slightly as the memory of Rine came back to her.
Knowing Ludger’s iron-walled personality, the idea of him approaching a student first was almost laughable.
If anything, it would be the opposite.
[No—it has to be. Anyone else would’ve crumbled under Professor Ludger’s pressure, unable to say a word. But someone shameless enough to hang around with the Third Princess like it’s nothing...]
Turns out, that quiet-looking girl was sneakier than she appeared.
She’d already thought it odd that Rine clashed so often with other noble students. Now, it kind of made sense.
Still, with the next test approaching, Flora decided to put her thoughts about Rine aside.
“...”
“...”
At least, until the moment she stood at the entrance to the lecture hall for the next test—
—and came face-to-face with Rine standing there alongside the Third Princess.
