I Can Hear the Saint’s Inner Thoughts

73 – Men’s Friendship (2)

* * *

There was a question my master once asked me.

“What do you think is the most important thing in magic?”

She, who recognized my talent when I was working as a cleaner in the Azure Tower, tossed the words at me as a test.

A typical mage would surely speak of power or scale, opening their mouth to say how important it is to wield strong magic.

After all, the Tower is a place to research magic that doesn’t exist in the world and to train stronger, more efficient mages.

Even if the values and aims of each Tower are different, the cold reality is that weak mages are destined to be weeded out and abandoned.

I had consistently seen such people while working as a cleaner in this Tower.

Those who leave the Tower because they lack talent, didn’t inherit the bloodline from their parents, or have poorer comprehension and learning abilities, no one remembers their names.

But,

“…Whether or not it can save people.”

Having lost all my loved ones in the past, I couldn’t help but think differently.

No matter how strong the magic, no matter how large or beautiful, if it cannot save even a single life, it is meaningless.

“Ho, why do you think so?”

“I was arrogant in the past, thinking I had talent. That’s why I was extremely arrogant and conceited, unable to properly face reality, and I once thought that magic only needed to be strong.”

I continued the story with a heavy heart. I was a mess, covered head to toe in dust, but it was my heart that ached more than my body.

Saving everyone is as hard as deliberately choosing all the wrong answers on an exam. Because in matters of life, there’s no such thing as a “right” answer.

“So, you went so far as to spy on my lectures, secretly teaching yourself magic? You’re one hell of a tenacious guy!”

“That’s right. I thought there might be some kind of ‘right answer’ in your magic. Unlike others, you teach magic that’s helpful in real life, efficient magic.”

Listening to my answer, the Blue Tower Lord, Charlotte Snowrain, offered a gentle smile.

I heard later that if I had spoken normally about the scale or beauty of magic there, I would have been kicked out of the Magic Tower immediately.

If you cling to superficial values like strength or beauty without a noble purpose or will, you’re bound to become a twisted mage.

Because mages, as a species, are already crazy about something, so this kind of corruption was a common sight.

“…You probably know what I mainly talk about when teaching students, right?”

“You often said that magic is a science of failure.”

“Yes. Can you guess the reason why?”

Charlotte, as she spoke, brushed all the dust off my body with a single gesture. It was a chantless spell that only mages who had reached a certain level of mastery could perform.

Seeing her reaction, which was much gentler than before, I could sense that I had passed some kind of test.

“I don’t know. Aren’t you reminding us that everyone is capable of failure?”

I honestly said I didn’t know. I felt that I shouldn’t pretend to see through her intentions or try to bluff.

“…It’s close, but not the answer I was looking for. Shall we take a walk? It’s the best way to organize your thoughts.”

Charlotte suggested a stroll. Leaving the high and authoritative Magic Tower, we continued our conversation while walking around a wide, open lake.

“Who do you think was the first person to create fire magic?”

My mentor, Charlotte Snowrain, posed this question to tell me ‘what she considers most important in magic.’

“Perhaps a mage from the Red Tower? Or maybe a housewife preparing to cook…?”

“Wrong. It’s not that simple. Imagine, fundamentally, who would have wanted fire the most.”

Charlotte shook her head at my answer. The question of who fundamentally would have wanted fire filled my mind.

“…Someone freezing. A being desperately trying to gain even the smallest bit of warmth.”

She uttered an unexpected answer. Not the Red Magic Tower’s mages, famous for their firepower, nor ordinary people who needed embers in daily life.

“Magic is the study of defeat, you see. The one who lost someone precious to the cold, the weakling who had to find any way to survive, they’re the most likely to have created it.”

“……”

“Isn’t it paradoxical? Such powerful magic, that can burn people to death, can also save those freezing from the cold?”

Charlotte then raised her index finger and created a small spark. A person’s life hung on such a tiny magic.

Truly simple, but all the more important, and easy to forget, fact.

“Magic is ultimately like that. It can be hope or despair, depending on who uses it.”

“…I will keep that in mind.”

Charlotte nodded and handed me a blue robe.

It was an outfit originally only worn by the Blue Magic Tower’s top students, but she said I had the qualifications, knowing my ideals.

“You are now a full-fledged member of the Blue Magic Tower. Congratulations, Astal.”

From then on, I never held prejudice against magic that saved people. I realized that even a simple and weak magic could save countless lives.

* * *

The fact that I am now dismantling magic circles and wrapping them around my fists is an extension of that idea. Even though I learned combat to compensate for my weakness in close combat, I had to increase the variables in actual battle.

‘…I can imbue a total of four magic spells into parts of my body.’

If I used the technique of mixing legs that Glaktar advised, I could use even more magic, not just two.

On my right hand, magic to bind the opponent, on my left, magic to paralyze them.

And I’d etched magic circles on each leg, one to freeze, the other to incinerate.

For now, it was just the testing phase, too risky to use high-level magic.

“WoooAH—!!”

Glaktar, seeing I was ready, roared into the empty air, shaking the earth.

That was Frenzy, a Barbarian specialty. Shouting and venting rage, gaining resistance to cuts, strikes, physical impact.

“I won’t go easy or play mind games from the start! What you want isn’t to weigh things carefully and fight, but real combat experience, firsthand!”

With those words, Glaktar charged. A gust of wind momentarily kicked up, his movements too fast to follow with the eye, but…

‘…Similar to how Victoria starts a fight.’

Almost exactly like the way she used the Dragon’s strength, kicking off the ground and charging.

I had a year of watching and learning at her side, knowledge that let me intercept Glaktar’s attack with instinct, not sight.

KA-THUNK—! A clear clang of metal rang out as Glaktar’s axe and my magic circle-covered right hand collided.

“Hoh, you reacted to that…. You really are promising! Worth teaching!”

Seeing the tree roots that instantly shot out at contact, his eyes widened slightly in surprise.

Seeing me trying to disarm him, he immediately kicked me in the gut, trying to send me flying.

That’s the instinct of a natural-born warrior. Even when something unusual happens in combat, something that exceeds their expectations, they know how to react accordingly.

“Thanks for the compliment.”

I immediately activated the magic on my left leg, turning the floor underfoot into an ice rink and sliding away. The kick missed by a hair, Glaktar’s leg grazing my hair.

“That just means I’m going to push you harder, no need to thank me already.”

Glaktar smirked and immediately pulled a small hand axe from his pouch, moving to crack my skull open with it. He’d apparently anticipated situations where he couldn’t use his main weapon.

“…Really? Feels alright so far, though.”

I gripped the hand axe with my other hand. I’d heard rumors of barbarians fighting by throwing their weapons, but this was the first time experiencing it firsthand.

I was putting on a front, trying to act like I was okay, but with each exchange, it became blatantly obvious how strong he was.

If this wasn’t a practice spar, but an actual fight in the arena, I would’ve already lost my head.

“Put more power in your waist, strike like you intend to kill. It’ll be better to mix your entire body weight and magic into your attacks.”

Thwack, thud.

Dull sounds echoed, and Graktaar and I traded blows. Each time I conceded an attack, a powerful shock ran through my body, making me stagger.

“What’s wrong? Where did your initial momentum go! Or are you a eunuch who can’t use his waist!”

Graktaar spoke in a harsh tone, deliberately trying to provoke me. I was already accustomed to this kind of insult through Victoria, so it didn’t really faze me.

The thought that she would’ve nodded profusely if she heard that made the corners of my lips twitch upwards.

“Hardly.”

I unleashed even more of my magic circuits, wrapping them around my entire body as I spoke. I’d originally been saving it for the fight with Durahan, but it didn’t seem like I had that luxury now.