I was thirsty.
No matter how much I took in, I was never satisfied.
In my chest, there had always been an ache—a hollow loneliness and an unquenchable thirst.
I—Charlotte Luneford—graduated at the top of my class from the Royal Magic Academy. My next step was the Royal Mage Order. It was not out of some grand yearning; I simply assumed someone of my caliber would naturally walk that path.
Obtaining the national license of a mage is an arduous ordeal. There are years when not a single graduate from the academy manages to pass.
Even so, I could never fathom a future where I failed.
I am a genius. Blessed with noble blood and innate talent, I never spared an ounce of effort. Before I knew it, people were calling me a once-in-a-century prodigy.
"As expected of Lady Charlotte."
"With her talent, she will surely go down in history."
"The knights can't hold a candle to her."
"Indeed. With Lady Charlotte among us, we have nothing to fear from the knight faction."
No matter how much praise was heaped upon me, the thirst remained. I knew I was fortunate. Everyone fawned over me, calling me a genius. I understood full well that harboring such dissatisfaction was a luxury.
Yet acknowledging that did nothing to soothe the emptiness.
A week before the Mage Examination, looking for a change of pace, I went for a stroll through the capital. Intending to get dinner, I wandered into a tavern that caught my eye. It was hardly conduct befitting a duke's daughter, but that was simply the mood I was in. And there, I met a peculiar boy.
"Fighting inside the shop isn't right. If you break something, you'll cause trouble for the staff. If you want to fight, take it outside. There are regular customers in here."
He had stepped in to break up a quarrel between a swordsman and a mage.
More than the deed itself, it was his magic that seized my attention.
How exquisite...
His spellcraft was more precise, more intricate—more beautiful—than anything I had ever witnessed.
When I spoke with him, I learned that he, too, was taking the Mage Examination.
I told myself not to get my hopes up.
Even so, I could not quiet the sudden racing of my heart. Just maybe, he was looking out at the very same horizon as I was.
"There really are a lot of people here, aren't there?"
The day of the Mage Examination arrived. The grand courtyard of the Royal Magic Academy was packed with examinees holding staves. From noble scions to academy graduates and seasoned adventurers, the crowd was varied, and a taut tension hung in the air.
Among them stood a lone figure casually twirling a staff in his left hand. I hurried over to him at once. There was no mistaking him.
"Um, it has been a while. Do you remember me?"
"Hm? Ah... right. You're the one from the tavern, aren't you?"
"Yes. My name is Charlotte Luneford."
"I'm Leon. Pretty intense atmosphere here, huh?"
"Indeed. And yet you seem completely unbothered, Leon-san."
"You think so? Well, rather than nervous, I'm mostly just excited."
"...Excited?"
Was it mere bravado?
No one in their right mind looked forward to this exam. Yet his smile was completely carefree.
"I've spent all my time training out in the countryside, so I'm looking forward to seeing all kinds of magic."
"Hehe. You truly are unusual, Leon-san."
"Am I?"
"Yes. Very much so."
"Uh... Luneford is..."
"You may call me Char."
"Ah, that's much easier to say. Thanks. Aren't you excited too, Char?"
"I... wonder. I hadn't given it much thought, but..."
I looked at him squarely, meeting his gaze.
"—If I get the chance to face you, I believe this exam might actually be enjoyable."
A faint anticipation swelled within my chest. If it was him, perhaps he could finally quench this thirst of mine.
Before long, the examiners stepped out into the courtyard, and the ambient chatter faded into silence. At last, the Mage Examination was underway.
"We shall now commence this year's Mage Examination—"
The examination was divided into two stages.
The first stage tested the precision of basic spells, while the second consisted of mock battles between examinees. Fundamentals and practical combat. Only those who passed both would earn the qualification of a certified mage.
Presently, the first stage began.
As their names were called, the examinees stepped forward one by one to cast the designated basic spells. They were evaluated on speed of spell-formula construction, mana efficiency, raw power, and control precision. The examiners scrutinized every detail with an uncompromising eye.
"What remarkable magic..."
"As expected of the Luneford house's prodigy..."
"She is guaranteed to take top marks."
Having been showered in such acclaim since childhood, my pulse did not quicken in the least.
However, the moment the next examinee released his magic, an uproar far louder than before swept through the grounds.
"What was that spell just now...?"
"The power was impressive enough, but that level of control is absurd..."
"Who is he? Some highborn scion?"
"No... at least, I've never seen him before."
Paying no mind to the commotion around him, Leon-san quietly lowered his staff.
The spell he had cast struck the dead center of the target with flawless accuracy. Yet aside from that single point of impact, the surrounding target remained pristine—without a single scratch. Normally, no matter how sharp one's aim, the residual shockwaves of mana would leave cracks or scorch marks in the vicinity.
His spell left none of that.
Without allowing the immense power to bleed outward in the slightest, he had concentrated every shred of force into a single, infinitesimal point.
Construction speed, mana efficiency, power, control precision.
Every single aspect was flawless.
Just like mine.
No... perhaps even...
"We will now announce those who have passed the first stage—"
Naturally, my name was called, and Leon-san's followed immediately after. Each time our names rang out, a murmur rippled across the venue.
"Next, the pairings for the second stage. Match one: Charlotte Luneford versus Leon."
A fleeting hush fell over the crowd, followed by a roar of excitement.
Under the weight of countless watching eyes, Leon-san and I walked to the center of the grounds and took our positions across from one another.
The thirst deep inside me throbbed with unprecedented intensity.
"Leon-san. I never imagined our duel would come so soon."
"Yeah. I'm looking forward to it. Your magic really is lovely, Char."
"The same could be said of yours. Did you study under someone?"
"Just an old woman out in the boonies."
"Oh... Is that so?"
He was clearly evading the question.
I see. He has no intention of showing his hand before the match. But that was fine. It simply meant he was taking this battle just as seriously as I was.
"Tell me, Leon-san."
"What's up?"
"Would you mind if I fought at full strength?"
"Not at all. Come at me with everything you've got from the start."
"Hehe. Very well."
Was that sheer arrogance, or something more?
I would soon find out.
"Begin!"
The moment the command rang out, I gathered mana at the tip of my staff. Pale-blue light traced concentric rings in the air, pulling in the ambient mana and weaving it into a single focus.
Then, I unleashed my innate magic.
"O Azure Garden of My Frozen Butterflies—Release."
The air dropped below freezing in an instant, turning my breath to white mist.
Frost crept outward between the cobblestones, the thin glaze of ice scattering the pale-blue radiance across the ground.
A single frozen butterfly materialized.
Its translucent wings looked like delicate spun glass, their surfaces etched with intricate spell-formulas like fine leaf veins.
Then, one became two, and two became ten.
In the blink of an eye, hundreds of frozen butterflies coalesced, fluttering through the air around me like a heavy, silent snowfall.
"Now, Leon-san. Come dance in my garden."
With a flick of my staff, the flock of butterflies wheeled in unison.
Trailing glowing arcs of pale blue, they swarmed toward him. The instant they enveloped his position from every angle, I slashed my staff downward.
"—Shatter."
The frozen butterflies detonated at once.
Their crystal wings broke apart into a tempest of razor-sharp ice blades, converging upon him from every conceivable angle.
An inescapable storm of ice.
How would he weather this?
Or would he simply fall helplessly to his knees, just like all the others before him?
—Come, show this genius what you are truly capable of.
Before long, the freezing mist began to thin.
"What...?"
I could scarcely believe my eyes.
Leon-san was entirely unscathed. Encircling him was a pale-blue barrier, woven with overlapping rings of spell-formulas that spun in perpetual motion.
I can't... read the formula.
Though its architecture was entirely beyond my comprehension, its overwhelming density was unmistakable.
To construct a defense of this magnitude in a fraction of a second...?
"...It can't be."
Perhaps I had been entirely mistaken from the start.
I had assumed Leon-san was the challenger, and that I was the one looking down from on high to judge his worth.
"Ah... that was even better than I hoped. Truly beautiful magic."
A faint smile touched his lips as he gazed at the falling shards of ice. Yet his focus seemed to lie much further away, looking straight through my spellcraft.
His eyes were fixed on somewhere else entirely—gazing into an empty void.
A sharp chill ran up my spine.
I could not comprehend his spell-formula, nor could I fathom what he was looking at. Worst of all, I could not see the bottom of his depth.
As I realized the nature of the sensation blooming in my chest, my breath hitched.
Was I—the genius—actually trembling in terror at someone else's talent...?
"Alright, my turn."
He stopped twirling the staff in his left hand and leveled its tip directly at me. In the next instant, concentrated fire ignited, hurtling forward as a blazing sphere.
—A fireball.
The most fundamental offensive spell of the fire element. Its path was straightforward and trivial to intercept. Or so I thought, until I directed my frozen butterflies to intercept it.
"...Huh?"
A split second before impact, the fireball banked at a sharp right angle.
It slipped neatly past the butterfly and curved around toward my blind spot. I hastily threw another butterfly into its path, and the resulting collision unleashed a violent blast of crimson flames and ice shards, cloaking my vision in white steam.
Through the haze, I saw him make a sweeping motion with his staff. Following that arc, five fireballs sprang to life in a neat horizontal line. They launched simultaneously, each carving out a wildly different trajectory through the air.
One skimmed low across the ground, while another soared high above.
The remaining three crisscrossed and spread wide, closing in to encircle me from both sides.
I've never seen fireballs move like this...!
"Ngh...!"
I commanded the surrounding butterflies to intercept them, but—
"They dodged...?"
Just as the fireballs seemed to accelerate, they came to an abrupt halt in midair, drawing the butterflies in before sharply cutting away. Darting up, down, left, and right with complete freedom, they toyed with my defenses as though each one possessed a mind of its own.
This was no pre-programmed homing sequence.
Leon-san was actively manipulating the completed formulas after casting, rewriting their trajectories and velocities from moment to moment. And he wasn't doing it to the group as a whole; he was managing all five individually and simultaneously.
Innate magic had unique properties woven into the formula from its inception. But what he was manipulating were ordinary, run-of-the-mill fireballs.
A completed spell-formula was meant to be a closed system.
Altering it after release should disrupt the mana balance and cause the entire structure to collapse.
Yet he maintained absolute control over all five without letting a single one break down.
Like a conductor wielding a baton, every subtle flick of his left fingers wove the overlapping formulas together into a seamless, harmonious dance.
It was no longer mere spellcraft; it was a work of art.
Even I, hailed as a genius, could never hope to perform such a feat.
What... what absurd, incomprehensible talent...
"Come on, show me more of what you can do! Hahaha!"
His bright, buoyant laughter rang across the field.
He was laughing with the unbridled joy of an innocent child. There was no mockery in it, nor any desperate hunger for victory. It was nothing more than pure, unadulterated delight at encountering unknown magic.
Even facing an onslaught of ice blades, neither fear nor caution registered in his eyes. He wasn't even looking at me as a person. His gaze was fixed entirely on my spell-formulas and the mysteries hidden within them. I was certain of it.
A curiosity so pure—
It was indistinguishable from madness.
"Kh...!"
Ice shattered, and a scorching wave of heat grazed my cheek.
No matter how many I deflected, the next fireball struck from an angle I couldn't see. I was forced to pull almost all my butterflies into a defensive perimeter just to weather the assault.
I didn't even have the leeway to point my staff at him.
"—Here comes the next one."
Magic was the act of binding phenomena through formulas.
Yet his magic carried no chains at all.
It was as though he were granting absolute freedom to the magic itself.
The next fireball launched straight toward me possessed a mass on an entirely different scale.
"—Gather, Graciel!"
In desperation, I recalled every last butterfly.
Layer upon layer of blue wings formed a massive protective barrier around me. An instant later, the fireball slammed into it head-on. With a deafening roar, the crimson flames swallowed the frozen butterflies whole.
"Ngh...!"
One by one, the butterflies vaporized. Though I managed to avoid a direct hit, the barrier couldn't completely absorb the force. The overwhelming blast of heat shoved me backward, scorching my skin despite my protective mantle of mana.
Thick white steam billowed out, blanketing the entire area.
My vision was completely obscured.
—In that fleeting instant.
Without a sound of warning, he burst through the vapor. He was right in front of me—far too close for me to ready my staff. And as expected, though his eyes reflected my image, he wasn't looking at me.
He was staring into an empty void far beyond.
"Eep...!"
My throat locked in terror, and a strangled gasp escaped my lips.
My instincts screamed the truth.
—I'm going to lose.
I, the genius, was going to be defeated.
Somewhere deep down, I had been arrogant. I believed that no matter how strange or formidable an opponent's talent might be, I would ultimately prevail. Defeat was foreign to me. I had convinced myself that failure was something that had nothing to do with my life.
I had assumed Leon-san was someone who could be measured against my own yardstick of genius.
That conceit was the true cause of my downfall.
The reality was that we were never even on the same scale to begin with.
I braced myself to accept defeat, yet no spell was unleashed.
Instead of the left hand that held his staff—
For some reason, Leon-san brought his completely empty right hand down in a sharp, sweeping vertical strike.
"Eh?"
"Ah..."
Our bewildered voices overlapped.
Leon-san stared down at his empty right hand, looking utterly dumbfounded.
"Shoot... Did it again. Old habits die hard, I guess..."
Just then, the examiner's voice cut through the air.
"T-That is enough—!"
Hearing the call, Leon-san promptly lowered and stowed his staff.
"Thank you for the match. That was a lot of fun, Char. Let's go at it again sometime."
"Y-Yes..."
Leon-san turned and walked off as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I remained rooted to the spot, able only to stare at his retreating back.
I had always thought of myself as a genius.
The magic I had refined and the efforts I had poured into my craft were certainly worthy of pride.
Yet today, I learned the truth for the first time.
There existed a true genius who walked far ahead of me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A half-baked genius wears their talent for all to see.
—A "true genius" makes you forget the concept of talent entirely.
The smoldering thirst that had weighed on my chest, the lingering loneliness I could never shake—his overwhelming ability washed it all away.
"Still... thank goodness."
The words slipped out of my mouth in a sigh of relief.
—Thank goodness his talent belongs to this side, among the mages.
If a monster like that belonged to the knights on the other side, he would have been a terrifying threat to all magic users.
At that moment, however, I did not yet understand.
That empty right hand he had swung down at the very end.
What was truly—supposed to be resting in his grip.