Chapter 4:
Research and the Mana Trap
“I SEE, I SEE… So you’re saying that compatibility between elemental magics is pretty selective? Sounds like an elemental chart in a game…”
In this world, the four elements—water, fire, earth, and wind—affected each other in significant ways. Fire magic attacks dealt heavy damage to water magic defense spells, and vice versa. Wind was strong against earth, but earth was just as strong against wind. Elements with no relationship had no particular advantages or disadvantages.
And each element covered even more than its namesake. Fire magic also included beam and lava magic. Water magic consisted of ice and cold air magic. Wind magic extended to lightning and poison gas magic. Last but not least, earth magic encompassed stone and metal magic.
“You’re catching on abnormally fast. You’re supposed to be a novice, right?”
“I can’t use magic, but I’ve got plenty of experience.”
In games, specifically. Nearly every game had elemental affinities. But when things got pretty confusing when they were overloaded with elements. One example was the monster catching game. It was way too complex for me to wrap my head around at this point. With so many elements to play around with, it became difficult to know what to do against specific monsters or enemies, and you’d end up brute-forcing everything by power-leveling.
“There’s no magic in Kousuke’s old world, but their stories are full of it,” Ira explained.
“If that world had no magic, why would its stories?” Ifriita asked.
“People’s imaginations, I guess,” I said.
“Or maybe magic existed there long ago. Smoke doesn’t rise without fire,” Ifriita countered.
“Now that’s a fascinating theory.”
Perhaps, in exchange for scientific power, we abandoned the mysteries of our world. By analyzing both the visible and the invisible, we ended up thoroughly dissecting the mysteries of our world and left no room for magic or curses in our civilization. Fantastical, sure, but not a theory I disliked.
“In any case, I think I get the gist of the elemental affinities,” I said. “Let’s dig deeper.”
“Okay. Next, you’re going to learn the basics of magic formula theory. Don’t underestimate it just because it’s basic.”
“I know.”
And so, my formula lesson began. But…
“This is tough… It’s all rote memorization.”
Generally speaking, basic magic in this world was cast by combining formulas that looked like a mix of sentences and crests. Infuse them with a formula of colorless magic energy, and the energy would then take on an element, affecting the world via magic.
It felt remarkably close to programming language, but the problem was that I didn’t know much about that either. Sure, I’ve opened a console in a game and typed a line of code or two, but unless you were an IT engineer, coding wasn’t the sort of thing you touched very often.
“Especially in your case,” Ifriita said. “If you could cast magic, we’d drill you by having you repeat a spell until it became second nature.”
“It really is a handicap.”
“Agreed!”
Not being able to use magic meant I couldn’t test any formulas I put together. It was like coding without ever being able to run or debug the program. A pro might have been able to jot down complex code on paper and debug it instinctively. Me? I wasn’t even a baby chick when it came to experience. I wasn’t even at “Hello, World!” level. In fact, I wasn’t even an egg yet; I was still a zygote.
“Instead of learning formula theory, maybe I should just learn what kinds of magic exist,” I suggested. “There’s gotta be a bajillion fire attack magic spells, right? Magic that shoots fire arrows and not just fireballs, right?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure that’s the correct approach,” Ifriita muttered.
“Common sense doesn’t apply much when it comes to Kousuke,” Ira countered. “What seems nonsensical to a mage could lead him to something groundbreaking. He’s already done it before.”
“Ah, the recoil control system, right? I see… So that was Kousuke’s doing, huh? Well… Okay, let’s try not to get too swept up in convention, then.”
And just like that, my magic curriculum was completely overhauled on the spot.
Sorry for all the trouble, girls.