NOVPUB“Uh, um? Professor Ludger? What is this, exactly...?”
[Non-Attributed Mana] was supposed to be something that couldn't properly channel any elemental attributes.
She’d heard it was so rare that there weren’t even known methods of how to use it.
But a book about Non-Attributed Mana?
“Read it.”
“Huh, excuse me?”
“If you read what’s in there, you’ll at least begin to see a path you couldn’t before.”
Rine still couldn’t understand what was happening.
He’d suddenly dragged her to the faculty office and then handed her this strange book—what was all this supposed to mean?
“Is, is this real?”
Rine stared intently at the title [Understanding Non-Attributed Mana], her expression one of disbelief.
As far as she knew, Non-Attributed Mana was so rare that no known method of using it had ever been revealed to the public.
Looking closely at the cover, she noticed there was no author’s name, not even a publisher’s mark or insignia.
Isn’t this... fake?
It made perfect sense for her to be suspicious.
“It’s only natural to be doubtful.”
“Huh? Ah! N-no! I didn’t mean it like that...!”
Had it shown on her face? Rine quickly cupped her cheeks, trying to manage her expression.
Thankfully, Ludger didn’t seem intent on reprimanding her for it.
“You can read it and decide for yourself. It’ll be more helpful than knowing nothing.”
“Even the Mage Tower doesn’t have any information on Non-Attributed Mana...”
“Is my Source Code magic something that existed in the Mage Tower?”
“...”
The retort was too perfect. Rine sealed her lips tightly.
So this really is the real deal?
“W-where did you get something so rare...?”
“I came across it through a certain connection.”
You came across it through a connection?
Rine tilted her head slightly.
Was this really the sort of thing you could just stumble across through a “connection”?
Confused, Rine cautiously asked Ludger another question.
“...Then, Professor Ludger, do you also know about Non-Attributed Mana?”
From what Rine had seen, he acted so naturally—as if he’d come into contact with Non-Attributed Mana himself and had studied it thoroughly.
If it was Ludger, the creator of the Source Code spell, he might know something that no one else did. That hope stirred in her heart.
“A little.”
“Really?!”
“I once met someone... a long time ago.”
“My god. So I’m not the only one with Non-Attributed Mana. Where are they now?”
“They’re gone. They died.”
“Oh...”
Ludger’s voice, as he said that, felt strangely filled with regret—unlike his usual self.
At least, that’s how Rine felt. The cold, sharp Ludger she knew now sounded somehow heavy, like cotton soaked in water.
Rine instinctively became more careful, feeling like she’d asked something she shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s all in the past now.”
“Then this book... was it what they left behind?”
“Yes. It’s the culmination of their life’s research on their own mana. Something that doesn’t exist even in the Mage Tower.”
“But why...”
Why didn’t he hand it over to the Mage Tower, and instead, gave it to her?
Rine couldn’t bring herself to say the rest of that sentence aloud.
“Because she wanted that.”
Ah. It was a woman.
But more than that, what did he mean, she wanted that?
Rine suddenly became curious—just who was that other person with Non-Attributed Mana?
“Still... wouldn’t it have been better to hand it over to the Mage Tower for the public good?”
“Even if I did, that place is filled with greedy old men who’d never acknowledge the book’s value. Or if a few did, they’d hoard it and keep it to themselves. They’d never share it with others. That’s why it’s better to give it to someone who actually needs it. So I kept it.”
To pass it on someday, when he met someone worthy of it.
Rine looked at Ludger anew upon hearing that answer.
“I see...”
“If you work hard and study that book, I’m sure you’ll find a new path.”
“Then... is there no way to learn elemental magic?”
“As far as I know, no.”
Ludger’s response left Rine visibly disheartened.
She didn’t show it outright, but like anyone else, she’d yearned to wield flashy, beautiful elemental magic.
“Disappointed?”
“If I’m being honest, yes. Even if it was just one element, I wanted to try it.”
Other people could use two, three, or more elements—and the truly gifted could handle five or more.
Suddenly, Rine recalled Ludger’s demonstration during class.
Come to think of it, how many elements had he shown?
He used fire, water, earth, wind—and even ice at the beginning.
So... five?
He really was a professor at Seorn Academy.
“One element, huh.”
Ludger, unaware of Rine’s inner thoughts, quietly repeated her words to himself.
“Rine. You’re saying that because you don’t understand—being able to control even a single element is nothing to scoff at.”
“Huh? Isn’t being able to use even one element a blessing?”
“Every person—more precisely, every mage—is born with at least two elemental affinities. So if someone can use only one, what does that mean?”
“Um... that they don’t have talent?”
“No.”
Ludger shook his head.
“A person who can wield only a single element possesses an unparalleled level of talent in that element—beyond comparison.”
Rine’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
But Ludger wasn’t lying.
Among mages, a very rare few could use only one elemental attribute.
But that didn’t make them weak—far from it.
In fact, they were something greater.
“Rine. Do you think a mage’s elemental magic affects the actual element in the world? For example, that a fire mage could extinguish a real blazing wildfire?”
“Uh, well... not exactly, right?”
Even Rine knew that much.
Just because you could use flame-based magic didn’t mean you could control real fire.
It was a common misunderstanding.
People assumed that fire mages could manipulate actual fire, and that metal mages would dominate all metals and become war gods on the battlefield.
But that was wrong.
The ‘manifestation’ of an element and the ability to ‘control’ that element were two completely different concepts.
“Exactly. That’s the norm. But there are mages who are born with only one elemental affinity. And the spells they use are completely different from those of typical mages.”
While others could use two or more attributes at a minimum—
Those singularly-affinitied mages could only use one.
But in exchange, they could ‘dominate’ that one element.
“Mages like that, known to the public, are given the title of the Color of their element by the Mage Tower. It means they’ve reached the pinnacle of their attribute.”
“So that’s what it means to wield a single element...”
Rine’s cheeks flushed red with shame as she realized just how narrow her own perspective had been.
She’d blindly wished to wield “even just one element,” thinking that would be enough.
But even that “one element” stood as a towering wall.
Did that mean she really had to live the rest of her life unable to wield any element at all?
Fear crept into her heart.
“Rine. What do you think Non-Attributed Mana really is?”
“Um... isn’t it exactly what it sounds like? Mana without any attribute?”
Rine answered with the first thought that came to mind.
“Even a passing child would give the same answer.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“People say it’s non-attributed, but whether or not it truly lacks an attribute hasn’t been definitively proven.”
“Huh? Really?”
“A prime example would be sound-based magic.”
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Rine’s eyes widened at the mention of sound-based magic, and she tilted her head slightly.
“Wait, sound magic? That’s an actual thing?”
“Yes.”
“But sound is, well... technically just a wave that travels through a medium like air...”
“So, you’re equating it with the wind attribute?”
“I always thought it was the same.”
“No. You’re wrong. Wind and sound are completely different. Sound may derive from it, but to be precise, it’s closer to a wave created by vibration.”
“Oh—so it is different?”
“Sound waves can travel even through water, not just air. So would that mean sound is a water attribute?”
“Ah... I suppose not.”
Ludger seemed to be enjoying himself a little, perhaps getting into the rhythm of explaining. Suddenly, he threw out another question.
“Then what about poison?”
“Poison...?”
“It's more common than what's called non-attributed mana, but still, mages who handle poison are rare. But is the poison they wield truly a natural element?”
“Uh... hmm. Plants, maybe?”
“Then what about poisons found in animals?”
“R-right, there’s that too.”
Rine explained with the knowledge she had.
“Hmm. Originally, poison is a sort of self-defense mechanism that plants or small animals developed to survive in an ecosystem, right? Calling that a natural element feels... kind of ambiguous.”
“Exactly. Now that science has progressed and we understand chemistry, calling poison a ‘natural element’ is a bit of a stretch. And yet, poison does exist as an attribute. What is magic that melts or rots something, if not poison? If it’s not that, then we’d have to invent a whole separate attribute for decomposition.”
“That... actually makes sense.”
“And yet, poison isn’t even part of the Ten Major Attributes. Sound isn’t either. Why do you think that is?”
“Uh, maybe because not many people use them?”
“By that logic, people with light or darkness attributes should be excluded too. They're rare as well.”
“But light and darkness exist in nature.”
“Then let me ask you this, Rine. What is nature?”
“Huh? That’s... um...”
Rine started to answer, but shut her mouth.
What is nature, really?
What do attributes and elements truly represent?
Nature? That’s the world, isn’t it? But isn’t “world” too vague? Then maybe elements?
“You look like you’re about to get a headache.”
“Uh... yeah. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I can clearly define it.”
“Of course not. Humans were never meant to define the world so easily.”
“Huh?”
Coming from a professor of magic, those words were entirely unexpected. Rine stared at him with a dumbfounded expression.
Ludger, however, remained calm as he spoke, even as he watched her jaw drop.
“Mages like to believe they’re rational, and they try to view the world through that rational lens.”
“Well, that’s only natural. Magic itself is the expression of the mystical through human reason and will...”
“And that’s exactly the problem—it’s a boxed-in way of thinking. Rine. You need to think more freely. When do you think ‘metal’ became one of the Ten Major Attributes?”
Originally, metal wasn’t even recognized as a distinct elemental attribute.
It was seen as something that came from the earth, and thus lumped together under the element of earth.
But with the advancement of science and the widespread use of tools and machines made of iron—
Metal had eventually earned its rightful place as one of the ten major elements.
“Ice is the same. Ice is just water that’s dropped below freezing point. So shouldn’t water and ice be considered the same?”
But in the end, water and ice were treated as separate attributes.
The same went for light and darkness.
“Rine. You’ve been thinking of modern magic as something complete—as if it’s already perfect and untouchable.”
“Ah...”
Ludger’s words struck her like a bolt of lightning.
Her shoulders twitched, and she instinctively straightened her posture.
Until now, she had believed that magic was something absolute, something so lofty that no further progress could be made.
But... was that really true?
Could magic never change again?
Of course not.
Ludger noticed the realization dawning in her and gave a small nod.
“You finally understand. That’s it. A mage should be someone who masters magic—not someone mastered by it.”
Ludger rose from his seat and walked toward the window.
Beyond the transparent glass was the campus of Seorn Academy—a place responsible for shaping the ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) future of this era.
It was, without a doubt, magnificent and impressive.
But perfect? Not at all.
“The world changes. Naturally, we—who are part of that world—change with it. Magic is no exception. At first, there were only four basic elements, but now there are ten. And those ten aren’t the end. There may be unknown attributes yet to be discovered. We might end up with twenty—or even thirty.”
And there was no telling where that end would lie. That alone was enough to stir the heart.
“It’s the same with your Non-Attributed Mana. It’s unclassified now, but one day, it might be recognized as a new attribute. If not now, then perhaps someday in the future.”
Those words brought a faint vision to Rine’s mind.
A future version of herself, having achieved greatness in a field once considered impossible—someone who had carved her name into history.
It was the version of herself she’d always dreamed of, radiant and dazzling. Before she knew it, her slender hand curled tightly into a fist.
Ludger turned away from the window.
Ah. no𝚟𝚙u𝚋.c𝚘m
The sound slipped out of Rine’s mouth without her realizing it.
With the sunlight at his back, Ludger’s figure looked completely different from the usual imposing man she knew.
The iron pillar of a man was gone.
Standing before her now was simply another seeker—someone who, like her, pursued the path of magic.
“Don’t be afraid of being different. Don’t fear the unknown. Don’t think of yourself as someone other than others. Believe that you can be a pioneer who leaves her mark on history.”
Rine opened her mouth, about to say something—only to find her voice wouldn’t come out.
It felt as if something heavy and enormous was pressing on her chest, distorting her thoughts and making it impossible to put them into words.
Yet it wasn’t an unpleasant or painful feeling.
It was an overwhelming, exhilarating euphoria she had never experienced before.
Ludger’s words had torn through the fog of anxiety that had clouded her vision of the future.
She couldn’t speak.
But she still wanted—needed—to express her gratitude...
“So do your best from now on. Make sure you read the book I gave you today. It’s your personal assignment.”
With that, Ludger created a soft breeze.
The gentle wind wrapped around Rine’s body, lifted her lightly from her seat, and guided her out of the faculty office.
“Ah, wait...!”
As soon as she crossed the threshold, it was as if the magic binding her breath had lifted—she could finally breathe again.
Rine turned quickly, trying to say something to Ludger.
Clack.
But the door closed faster than her words could leave her lips.
