I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming: “You can control several lights at the same time?! That’s incredible!”
The two spheres split again and again, until a dozen lights floated around, then they started flickering.
Whoa!!! This is so magical!
Just as that thought crossed my mind, most of the balls vanished, leaving only two.
“S-Sorry. I overdid it a little...”
Apparently, Yuri hadn’t made them flicker on purpose; he’d been near his limit.
Still, when I asked, he gladly made the two balls flicker. He enlarged and shrank them, moved them around Flora, and even burst them into flashes of light. We could definitely use some of these effects to make the fighting scenes more believable! While the dozen lights had been too much for him, Yuri could handle up to four or five without issue.
“Do you not feel tired?” I asked.
“I can handle this intensity for a while yet.”
Sure enough, the quantity of mana I sensed wasn’t all that large. Compared to my earth mana, it was about the amount I’d need to raise a tiny bump on the ground. The true difference lay in Yuri’s control. To match him, I’d have to engrave a realistic portrait on that tiny bump, or something along those lines. That sounded impossible to me, but Yuri didn’t seem to struggle.
After wrapping up our experiments, we opened the black curtains. Only a dim afterglow remained in the sky, but it was enough to brighten the classroom since our eyes had acclimated to the darkness.
Yuri looked a little tired but still energetic. He also seemed in better spirits than before. He hadn’t used much mana, but remaining lively after such intricate control was impressive. That was the power of youth, I supposed.
High school boys are always so full of energy!
Of course, I’d completely missed the obvious: A boy in the middle of puberty would naturally be in top form after being showered with praise by the prettiest girls in his grade. I was older in my past life, so I assumed I had a full grasp of the situation.
“Your mana truly is magnificent, Lord Rey,” I said once more, applauding him. “Please use it for the sake of our play!”
To be honest, Yuri’s abilities were so cool that he could put on a show all by himself. It was a mystery how light mana had never been used that way before.
“Thank you. I’m glad to hear that...” he said. “I always thought people would get angry at me if I used it like this... That they’d say I was playing around.”
“Oh...”
That explained the mystery. In the empire, mana was the birthright of the nobility. Yuri was right. Some people would definitely scold him for using mana in such a frivolous way.
Flora’s adoptive mother, Baroness Cherny, used her fire mana to cook, and I was sure she’d be mocked if people knew. Mana wasn’t meant to ease daily life—it was a weapon.
“I hadn’t thought of this, but you’re right. Many visitors will come to the academy during the festival. Some may think this way. We must take this into consideration,” I said.
“Right...” Yuri seemed to assume I meant we wouldn’t use his light mana for the play, and his shoulders slumped.
I quickly continued, “I believe we should publicly announce that our play is simply research into the undiscovered possibilities of light mana control. Honing our mana control is our main duty as students of this academy. If we frame it this way, no one can criticize you.”
I’d learned this trick during my corporate years. When you knew something would be criticized to hell and back but had to do it anyway, the best solution was to sell the idea attractively to whoever was in charge. I used to do this every other day at work, so even as a noble lady, the words flowed easily.
“Huh?” Yuri muttered, not quite following.
Korneli laughed at his good friend. “She’s saying we’ll pretend the only reason for the play is to show off what your light mana can do! Aren’t you happy? You just earned yourself the lead role!”
“What?!”
“You’re still ugly, though, so no standing on the stage for you.”
“What did you just—”
“Please stop, Lord Ephme. Teasing your friends isn’t nice,” I told him with a severe look.
Korneli lowered his face obediently, but for some reason he seemed very pleased. I was baffled.
“It’s merely an excuse I made up, Lord Rey. I hope you won’t take it to heart and enjoy the festival as a member of our class.”
“O-Okay... But, if we’re pretending the play is a mana control demonstration, shouldn’t we display, well...other sorts of mana?” he asked hesitantly. “My sister says only fire and lightning are cool because they can burn and blow away things. I’m afraid people will think our class is a joke if we only show light mana...”
“That’s not the case at all!” I interjected firmly. “Your mana is wonderful, Lord Rey. When I think of light, I think of fireworks at celebrations. Your light mana is just like that—a beautiful thing that will make our play shine. Everyone should see it this way!”
The light magic Yuri had shown us had a unique charm, distinct even from the LED and laser light shows of my previous world.
You’re competing with hundreds of years of technological innovation all on your own, Yuri! That’s an amazing thing!
“I’ve heard that even the foundation of the empire is celebrated with music and fireworks,” I added. Since I’d gone from confinement to shutting myself in, I’d never attended that celebration, but I’d heard about it. “I think we should keep testing the possibilities of light mana so that one day it may move the hearts of people during this important celebration and heighten the empire’s prestige!”
“N-No way! I could never—”
“At least, that’s the excuse we’ll give,” I concluded with a smile.
Yuri gave a start.
He’s so cute! It sounds like his siblings tease him a lot at home, and I’m starting to understand them.
Korneli hesitantly raised his hand. “Um... Lady Yulnova? I’ve got an ide—um, I mean I have a suggestion, if that’s all right. One of my relatives works for the Office of Rites, the one in charge of the Foundation Day celebrations. I could invite him to have a look. If he does come, then maybe...” he trailed off.
Oho?
“D-Don’t. You can’t tell a government official you want to use light mana during those celebrations. He may get mad.”
Despite his refusal, Yuri looked restless—as if he was secretly hoping it would happen. After all, if he were given such a role, he wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job anymore. Joining the Office of Rites was an honor, and Yuri didn’t seem to know what to do with the hopes and matching anxiety that had sprouted in his heart.
“There are no guarantees he’ll come even if I invite him, but we do have Lady Florus and Lord Selesar in the class, so...who knows? Musicians who received a summons from the God of Music take part in national celebrations.”
“My, you’re absolutely right! He might come since it’ll be the perfect occasion for him to see Lady Olga’s and Lord Renato’s talents,” I said.
Yuri froze, and I smiled at him gently.
“Lord Rey, attributes like fire and lightning have remained prized because of their applications in times of war, and because of Pyotr the Great’s legacy. Of course, strength is important. My own brother trains tirelessly every day so that he may be of use to His Imperial Majesty should anything happen. But that is exactly why I’ve always held one belief close to my heart—nothing is more precious than peace!”
I’d likely been influenced by modern Japanese values, but that wasn’t the most important thing. I didn’t want my brother dying from overwork, but there was one thing I feared more than that: him dying in battle.
I won’t have that! Never! Never! Never!
Yuri and Korneli both seemed surprised by my sudden ardent declaration.
“I refuse to value only mana attributes that can be used in battle,” I continued. “Those that bring joy and delight to our daily lives are just as important.”
What’s wrong with using fire mana to cook?! What’s wrong with using earth mana to plow fields?! I know some may criticize me, but I’ll never regret having done it. The villagers were glad I did, and that’s all that matters.
There’s nothing wrong with reveling in the beauty of light mana either.
“I’d understand giving priority to sheer power in times of war, but we’re at peace. Our ancestors worked tirelessly to maintain this peace. I take great joy in our empire’s stability and prosperity, and I’ve vowed to protect them. For that sake, I believe it’s high time we cultivated values beyond the pursuit of martial strength,” I said.
I was struggling to put my feelings into words.
While the empire had gone a fairly long time without any major war, it had stood on the brink several times. Novak had once told me that one had almost broken out as recently as when my grandfather, Sergei, was prime minister.
In the end, Sergei had managed to resolve the conflict through negotiations, but the hardest obstacle in his way hadn’t even been the foreign country with which the empire had been locked in a dispute. It had been the voices advocating for war from within.
“We must go to war to protect the empire’s honor,” they’d tirelessly insisted.
Eventually, Sergei had addressed them at a meeting, in the presence of the emperor:
“Going to war for the sake of honor would be nothing but a waste of national resources. What honor is there in shedding the blood of imperial citizens? There is nothing for us to gain in this conflict that could justify wasting countless lives and tremendous amounts of money. Folly under the name of honor would disgrace this empire much quicker than anything else ever could.”