NOVPUBAfter addressing Flora, I continued moving among the students, observing their progress and offering advice without holding back.
“Giving guidance isn’t the hard part.”
Manifesting an elemental attribute is the most fundamental of basics.
Some may consider it trivial, but in <Elemental Magic>, there’s nothing more important than solidifying this foundation.
Even the technique of using the five senses to manifest elements is just a more advanced form that evolved from that very “basic” principle.
“To be honest, I didn’t used to think the basics were that important either.”
The elemental magic used by mages, brought forth through mana, is a little different from the elements that exist in nature.
Technically, it's more like mimicking those elements using a mysterious force called mana that drifts through the atmosphere.
Of course, the world accepts that mimicry as “real”—which is why a fire spell still burns when it hits you.
And naturally, you can recreate things that couldn’t exist in nature—like the warm, gentle flame Aidan conjured just earlier—using mana.
In short, elemental magic is both fake and real, a contradiction where both coexist.
That’s the mystery of magic.
And elemental magic born from magic naturally reflects the caster’s disposition.
An ice spell cast by a cold, calculating person and one cast by a hot-blooded, impulsive person may use the same element—but the results are vastly different.
A mage who has wandered the world and accumulated diverse experiences can imbue far more “emotion” into their magic than one who has shut themselves away in a study.
Exactly.
In the end, magic is something like channeling human emotion through mana.
Just like how some songs carry emotion, while others feel empty.
That said, today’s magic is so strictly theoretical and formulaic that this kind of method is now a relic—so old that it’s not even in history books anymore.
At most, it might be scribbled in the corner of some dusty, crumbling tome at the edge of a Mage Tower library.
Not entirely forgotten, but known only by a select few these days.
And how do I know this?
Because my master told me.
“This method of maximizing elemental affinity through the senses—yeah, that’s something my master taught me personally.”
It was a secret only passed on to me, the disciple.
And now this shameless disciple is publicly revealing that trick just to stay alive.
Sorry, Master.
But I have to do this, or I might seriously die.
Anyway, that’s how magical this discipline is.
“Makes me think of the first time I learned it...”
When I first found out magic existed in this world, I genuinely believed I was going to become some legendary archmage who’d go down in history.
The fact that I had reincarnated into another world made that dream feel more than possible.
Of course, I quickly gave up on that dream.
Because I didn’t have any particular talent for magic in the first place.
I could grasp the basics, sure—but that was it.
Becoming a grand mage worthy of history books? Flat-out impossible.
So I had no choice but to change my entire approach to magic.
My limit is roughly the 3rd Circle of magic.
If I push myself, I can barely manage simple 4th Circle spells.
So I’m at the threshold of the 4th Circle—and that’s both my best and my limit.
Unable to go any further, I chose instead to master the fundamentals of everything within the 3rd Circle.
That’s why I invested so much into my foundation.
More than anything, I had the memories of my previous life, which gave me a unique perspective on magic.
I could apply early 21st-century scientific knowledge to spell formulas—things these people had never considered.
The concept of source code, for instance, was one such example.
Add to that my master’s Spartan training regime, and I ended up with a foundation I can confidently say is stronger than most.
And the method I’ve honed to this point is finally bearing fruit here at Seorn.
“Back then I grumbled about why I had to do all this, but now I see there’s nothing more valuable.”
Magic using the five senses is probably something not even the Mage Tower teaches.
At most, it might be whispered only to top-tier talents within their factions—like some secret sauce in a gourmet restaurant.
But I’ve just gone ahead and shared it with everyone.
And since it’s producing tangible, visible results, the students are satisfied.
“Still, I can’t afford to let my guard down. Flora Lumos—who would’ve thought a girl her age could perform elemental overlap.”
Elemental overlap isn’t something you can do by just smashing different elements together.
You have to modify the spell structure so the mana of each element doesn’t clash—and one wrong move could result in disaster.
That’s why most people combine only compatible elements:
Water and ice,
Fire and wind,
Wind and lightning...
But Flora used fire and ice—elements in direct opposition—and that wasn’t enough. She added a third element on top of that.
A triple overlap, considered one of the highest levels of elemental manipulation.
There’s no way that kind of skill should exist at her age.
It reminded me once again why Flora is called a prodigy at Seorn.
“Still... she almost failed.”
Mana rampage.
Suppressing it had drained me so badly I was left dizzy.
Luckily, I had popped a mana recovery pill in my mouth beforehand and recovered quickly.
If not, I might’ve embarrassed myself in front of the students by collapsing.
So yes, I may have scolded Flora a bit too harshly.
There was a time I too had charged ahead recklessly, convinced I was onto some groundbreaking new spell—only to be obliterated by my master.
Back then, I tried all sorts of dangerous stunts, dreaming of unleashing awe-inspiring magic.
Now that I think about it, I want to curl up in a blanket and scream from the cringe.
Flora’s proud, triumphant expression after pulling off a double overlap reminded me exactly of myself in those days.
That memory set off my mental “rage button.”
Hence the harsh rebuke.
I did try to soften it a bit after, saying, “It’s because I’m worried about you. You get that, right?” but...
“Maybe I hurt her feelings a bit too much.”
Still, she’s a prodigy. She’ll bounce back.
With that, I turned my attention away from Flora and focused back on the rest of the class.
“As expected of Seorn. Just a few tips here and there, and they’re already excelling.”
Some students, in particular, stood out.
One girl had manifested a compressed earth element—so dense and refined it looked like she had pulled a mineral vein from deep underground.
Brown-skinned, with animal ears atop her head. I remembered her from the first day.
“Iona Obelli, right?”
I’d seen her before. She was the only beastkin in the entire lecture hall.
She must’ve sensed my gaze—she looked back, and I nodded slightly to acknowledge her impressive manifestation.
Her eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by my reaction.
I ignored her and moved on.
Next was a manifestation of the plant element.
This came from a navy-haired girl with thick, round glasses that covered half her face. She wore her hair in twin braids—an unmistakable “model student” look.
I believe her name was Clara Hanis.
She was being backed by the Alchemy Faction and already carried some reputation among the incoming students.
She wasn’t bad either.
Then there were others.
Twin sisters from a renowned Eastern kingdom noble house, and even a new recruit favored by the Mage Tower.
This last one, interestingly enough, seemed to harbor a notable rivalry toward Flora Lumos.
“They did say this year’s batch was suspiciously exceptional... Guess I really did join at a bizarre time.”
The “Golden Generation,” they called it.
I remember Selena mentioning that this year's first-years were shaping up to be unusually talented.
And strangely enough, most of them were taking my class.
It’s exhausting. Truly exhausting.
Part of me wished they’d just tone it down a little.
Trying to teach such standout students was draining the life out of me.
And that’s when I saw it.
Just as class was nearing its end, I spotted the one student who still hadn’t managed to manifest an elemental attribute.
“That kid...”
She looked familiar. Of course she did—with that bright silver-gray hair and divine beauty, how could I forget?
She’d been involved in what happened at Training Grounds One the day before...
And in the werewolf incident as well.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
More than anything, I knew that girl for a different reason.
I walked over to her.
“What’s going on, Rine?”
“Ah... Professor Ludger.”
“Having trouble with something?”
“N-No, not exactly, it’s just...”
Rine hesitated, stumbling over her words.
Sitting beside her was none other than Princess Erendir. Huh. Did they grow close after that incident?
I glanced at Erendir as if to ask what was going on, and she silently shook her head.
At last, Rine let out a small sigh and released her mana, forming a hovering orb.
Since she had been admitted to Seorn, she clearly had the basic knowledge and aptitude for magic, so manifesting mana itself wasn’t a problem.
Up to that point, she was fine. But the issue came after.
I immediately recognized the problem.
“You can’t manifest an elemental attribute. Or rather... it’s not that you can’t—it’s that you don’t have one.”
“......Yes.”
Rine was one of those exceedingly rare cases—someone with non-attributed mana.
* * *
“I’m doomed.”
Rine felt a creeping sense of dread, worried that she had only wasted everyone’s time.
As she hung her head low in shame, the clock’s chime echoed through the lecture hall, signaling the end of class.
“That’s all for today’s lesson. Review what we covered, and that will count as your homework.”
“Oh!”
Some students cheered at the news that there wouldn’t be formal assignments.
“Don’t think I’m going to let you off easy, though. I remember every element each of you manifested today—and I’ll be checking them next class.”
The ones who had just celebrated quickly looked away the moment they met Ludger’s eyes.
“Those who don’t practice properly... it’ll be obvious. I’m looking forward to that.”
“Th-thank you for the lesson!”
The students practically fled the lecture hall.
As Rine stood up to leave, Ludger called out to her.
“Rine.”
“Y-Yes?!”
“Follow me to the faculty office.”
“Gasp!”
Rine instinctively held her breath.
The remaining students cast sympathetic glances at her.
In manifestation training, the ability to express an elemental attribute was considered essential. For someone with non-attributed mana, this wasn’t just difficult—it was nearly impossible.
They assumed Ludger was going to suggest she drop the course and take another.
It was only the second week of the semester, but Ludger’s lectures had already become legendary within Seorn.
Especially the way he reinforced the foundation of elemental magic—students said it was enough to shatter any and all expectations.
To be removed from a class like that?
It wasn’t just missing a lecture. It felt like missing out on half a lifetime.
If she had never experienced it, that would’ve been one thing.
But once you’d had a taste... being forced to quit halfway was an entirely different kind of despair.
Of course, most of the students were simply relieved that it wasn’t them.
As for Rine, her face was already crumpling in despair.
She followed Ludger through the hallway, her small footsteps hurrying behind him.
Even as she walked, she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in her gut.
“Why did he call me? Is this... a personal meeting? Does he plan to kick me out of his class?”
Though she had only encountered him three times so far—including the incident at the training grounds the day before—Rine had already formed a clear impression of Ludger.
He was strict. Uncompromising.
Best-case scenario, he’d suggest she take another class.
Worst case? He’d flat-out expel her from his course.
“Aaaaah, I’m done for...”
Her gloom grew heavier, and she kept her head low.
It was still early in the semester, so changing classes would be easier now than later. But giving ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ up this class—Ludger’s—was a brutal loss.
It would be like finding a gem on the street... only to throw it back into the gutter.
“We’re here.”
They had arrived at the faculty office. Ludger opened the door with his nameplate on it and stepped inside.
Rine followed behind him, her heart pounding like a prisoner headed for judgment.
The interior was classy and refined—sleek and elegant.
“They say a room reflects its owner... and this one fits him perfectly.”
It had the dignified atmosphere of a man like Ludger.
“Sit down.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
Rine sat on the plush sofa, stiff as a board.
The cushions were so soft she should have been comfortable, but she sat straight-backed, frozen with tension.
Ludger took a seat at his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a stack of documents.
Rine squeezed her eyes shut.
“Ahhhh... he really is going to reassign me to another teacher!”
Should she fall to her knees and beg to stay?
What if he just looks at her with disgust instead?
While her mind spun in chaos, Ludger suddenly extended a thin book toward her.
Rine flinched and shouted with her eyes still shut.
“I’ll do my best! I’ll do everything you ask, so please—please don’t kick me out of the class! I need to stay in this class!”
Despite her desperate plea, Ludger didn’t even flinch.
“What nonsense are you going on about? This has nothing to do with that.”
“Huh? Wait... this isn’t a course reassignment form?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I-I thought you were telling me to leave your class...”
“You’re being ridiculous. Just take this already.”
Rine accepted the book with both hands, still confused.
What even is this? she wondered as she glanced at the title.
Her eyes widened.
[Understanding Non-Attributed Mana]
The large, bold title on the cover caught her full attention.
