NOVPUBCoordinate designation magic.
Though no one screamed aloud, the students were on the verge of losing their minds at the appearance of a new type of magic.
It was like watching a volcano blaze to life beneath deep, still waters.
“Wow, seriously.”
Among them, one student looked upon the new magic with pure admiration in his eyes.
It was Aidan.
“Leo! Did you see that? As expected of Professor Ludger! He invented something like that!”
“......”
“Leo? Leo!”
“......”
Leo, who would usually offer some kind of reply, said nothing. So Aidan shook his shoulder.
“Leo! Are you okay?”
“Huh? Uh, what? Yeah.”
“What’s wrong? You’re just spacing out. That’s not like you.”
“Aidan, do you... do you even understand how incredible that magic just was?”
“Hmm? Well, yeah, it’s amazing, but is it really that shocking?”
“You—ugh. Never mind.”
Leo let out a sigh and shook his head.
Sometimes, he thought, it must be nice to be as blissfully ignorant as Aidan.
Leo knew too much. Which is exactly why Ludger’s revolutionary magic had completely rattled him.
‘Magic that transcends space? Just what is this professor?’
Leo couldn’t help but feel even more suspicious of Ludger’s true identity.
And like Leo, there were several other students who looked astonished at what Ludger had just done.
The more you know, the more you see.
One of the most striking examples of that was Flora Lumos.
‘W-What the...’
For a brief moment, the sweet scent clinging to the tip of her nose nearly made her lose consciousness.
But that wasn’t all. A flood of vivid colors burst before her eyes, leaving her vision disoriented.
Synesthesia from mana.
Her natural-born talent was now turning against her, throwing her senses into chaos.
‘I’ve never seen anything like that magic before.’
Sure, she hadn’t learned everything there was to know—but even then, Ludger’s magic was distinctly unusual.
Up until now, all the magic she had experienced through her synesthesia had felt like looking at a single framed painting.
From there, she could tell how well-crafted a spell was by how "complete" the image looked.
But Ludger’s magic wasn’t like that.
If she had to describe it—it wasn’t like admiring a painting; it was like standing in the middle of a fireworks festival.
Fireworks exploded all around her, dazzling in every direction.
Flora struggled to keep her composure.
‘Where on earth did he learn a magic like that...?’
Without even realizing it, she squeezed her eyes shut—but immediately regretted it.
Just a little more.
She wanted to see just a bit more of that spell. 𝘯𝑜𝑣𝑝𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚
To feel that sensation, that ecstasy again.
So she kept blinking her eyes open, only to shut them again at the overwhelming stimuli.
Princess Erendir von Exilion stared with a hardened expression, while Rine, sitting beside her, let out a soft sound of awe.
Julia Plumehart alone retained her usual expression—but her half-lidded eyes were far sharper than usual.
And Ludger, the source of all their attention, calmly ended the spell.
“How was that? Did it spark your curiosity at least a little?”
The students didn’t answer. After witnessing a spell that transcended space itself, they were still stunned, caught in a dreamlike haze as they replayed the moment in their minds.
Ludger spoke again.
“To you, this magic might seem fascinating and shocking. But in the wider world, this is nothing more than a tiny fraction of what exists. It’s just a slightly modified manifestation-type spell.”
A slightly modified spell?
The students couldn’t help but question their ears.
But Ludger was serious.
Compared to the “real thing” he had once seen—something wielded by someone he knew—this coordinate spell was nothing.
“This magic I used was merely something I created after being inspired by another mage’s spell.”
“Oh my god.”
“Is that true?”
To the students’ questions, Ludger nodded without hesitation.
There was no reason to lie or boast about this.
“There are far more unknown spells in the world. And anyone here can create and develop their own magic.”
He made it sound easy, but no one in the room took his words lightly.
Even if someone felt inspired by the spell they had just seen, recreating it—making it their own—was an entirely different challenge.
“Of course, I didn’t show you this magic just so I could teach it to you.”
A few students let out disappointed groans at that.
Since it was the first spell he’d shown after the Source Code, they’d had some small hope.
“No matter how skilled I am, I can’t just give away everything. Just be satisfied with what I showed you.”
“You’re not going to explain the theory behind it?”
“That’s right. If you’re curious, figure it out yourselves. Think it through. Analyze it.”
“Then why did you show it to us?”
“I wanted you to realize something from it.”
Some students gave him a look that said what’s the point of showing us if you won’t teach it—but Ludger had his reasons.
“This spell I created was also born from someone else’s inspiration. That’s the nature of magic. It’s not always about inventing something completely original.”
Magic could be reborn through imitation—someone else’s spell could serve as the foundation.
Creating something purely from zero was extremely difficult. In most cases, nearly impossible.
That’s exactly why Ludger had shown the students this spell.
“Don’t make magic out to be some overwhelmingly complex thing. Yes, if you dig deep enough, it’ll make your head spin—but sometimes, it helps to look at it more simply.”
His words shook the students awake.
Ludger had shown them this magic not just to impress, but to awaken their motivation—something that had been fading amid the boredom of class.
A new magic.
And the belief that anyone could reach it.
“Of course, there are probably a few of you who are just curious about the spell itself. And a few who’ve already started trying to analyze it.”
At that, several students flinched slightly.
“So if you’re curious, pay attention in class. To truly make the insight you gained yours, what you need most is a strong foundation.”
“...A strong foundation.”
“Is that... really true?”
“Only those who’ve laid proper groundwork will be able to analyze and use magic however they want in the future. I guarantee it.”
It might sound like textbook advice.
But coming from Ludger, it carried far more weight.
Some of the students who had thought this class was boring and unproductive couldn’t help but reflect on their own attitudes.
“And just to give you a hint—coordinate designation means understanding the concept of space. Try thinking about how to perceive space centered on yourself, and how to send mana to that place.”
“Is that... our homework?”
Someone raised a hand and asked.
It was Flora Lumos, who still hadn’t fully recovered from the shock of Ludger’s magic.
Ludger stared at her for a moment, then gave a slight nod with a blank expression.
“You could call it that. If any of you can even partially imitate what I showed you, then it means you followed my instruction well.”
She had asked the question half-jokingly—but she hadn’t expected such a serious reply.
Flora had no idea how to interpret this professor.
“If you think you’ve learned the spell, come and show me. If you do, I’ll give you a reward.”
And not just a small one.
Those final words were enough to reignite the motivation in the students’ weary eyes.
“That’s all for today’s class. You all look pretty drained, so I won’t be assigning any extra work. I think the spell I showed you is already more than enough of a task.”
“Wooooow!”
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
At the mention of no homework, the students threw their hands up and cheered.
To students juggling multiple classes each week, every single assignment felt like a crushing weight.
Professor Ludger might be strict and thorough, but in moments like this—he was genuinely appreciated.
Excited by the rare reprieve, the students began to whisper among themselves with glee.
“Alright, make sure to review thoroughly before next class. That’ll be all for today.”
“Yes, thank you, Professor!”
With the students’ spirited response echoing behind him, Ludger nodded and left the lecture hall.
* * *
After class, I returned to the faculty office and collapsed into my seat.
Sedina, who had been glancing over at me cautiously, approached hesitantly.
“Um... Professor...”
“It’s fine. You may go.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re done for the day. Go home and rest.”
“O-okay.”
Maybe she was worried because I looked tired.
It was a one-sided arrangement where I used her as I pleased, but... the girl could be kind of endearing in her own way.
Still, right now, I preferred to be alone.
Sedina didn’t dare disobey my order. She answered in a small voice and quietly left the office.
Once I was completely alone, I stared blankly at the air for a while before picking up the faculty crystal orb from my desk.
‘It’s about time the <Philosopher’s Stone> comes up.’
The <Philosopher’s Stone>.
The origin of the rumor that had recently set Seorn abuzz—the so-called “Relic.”
The Headmaster had said she temporarily stored it in a secondary location and would soon return it to its original place.
And in the process, she needed my assistance.
Judging from her explanation, the process itself didn’t sound like it would take long, so I figured she’d be contacting me soon.
Beep.
“Impatient, aren’t we?”
I activated the crystal orb that had begun transmitting a signal.
“Yes, Headmaster?”
[Professor Ludger. We have a serious problem.]
A serious problem?
Contrary to my expectations, the Headmaster’s voice was unusually grim.
Naturally, I straightened up and waited for her next words.
“What happened?”
[The <Philosopher’s Stone> has been stolen.]
“......”
* * *
To think something would happen before we had even left the starting line—I didn’t anticipate this either.
After a moment to gather my thoughts, I asked carefully,
“What exactly happened?”
[I underestimated our enemies.]
“What do you mean?”
[They’ve infiltrated Seorn far more deeply than I expected.]
“......”
As I continued to listen, I began to understand why she sounded so defeated.
The matter of the <Philosopher’s Stone> had only been disclosed to a handful of people under strict secrecy.
Even if rumors had leaked outside, she had assumed that returning the relic to its original location quickly would prevent any major issues.
That assumption had been a critical mistake.
The enemy already knew the location of the temporary storage. And before the night when the relocation was scheduled, they had moved first.
Now, the perpetrators who stole the <Philosopher’s Stone> were hiding somewhere inside Seorn.
A tracking team had been dispatched to pursue them, but it was unclear when—or if—they’d be caught.
[More than anything, if they use the <Philosopher’s Stone>, things could spiral out of control.]
“That’s certainly true.”
I didn’t know the exact capabilities of the <Philosopher’s Stone>, but being a Relic, it was bound to be dangerous.
If ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) whoever stole it lost control and triggered a mana overload?
It could cause devastating casualties.
But to declare an emergency across Seorn now? That wasn’t an option.
It would throw the students into a panic.
And if word got out, Seorn’s reputation would suffer another blow. After the werewolf incident, the Academy could hardly afford another scandal.
In the end, this was a race against time—one that had to be won before the flames spread out of control.
“How long do we have in this golden window?”
[Until midnight tonight.]
“I see. Understood.”
[...Aren’t you going to ask anything else?]
“It’s more productive to act than waste time asking questions.”
With that, I ended the call.
I couldn’t treat this like someone else’s problem—I was already entangled.
A Relic, misused, could level an entire city.
And there was no guarantee I wouldn’t be caught in the aftermath.
If I ran away now, especially when suspicion toward me hadn’t completely died down, I’d no doubt be treated as an accomplice.
I’d already revealed my real face. There was no escaping anymore.
“...Haa.”
I sighed and dispelled the sound barrier I had placed before the call.
“Sedina.”
At my low voice, I sensed a flinch from beyond the door.
Of course. I had already noticed she hadn’t left and had been lingering right outside.
“Come in.”
This worked out better, actually.
I needed information.
