Chapter Five: Professor Shiro, History, and Magic

The test field where the accident had occurred had been reconstructed, with its barriers redeployed. In the center stood a pair of silhouettes with quite the height difference, facing each other. One of the silhouettes belonged to the youngest prince Herscherik, and the other was the prince’s magic tutor assigned to him by the Church—a young man gorgeous enough to be mistaken for an alluring woman, whom the prince called Shiro.

Shiro materialized a ball of fire above his hand, making it dance in the air before banishing it into nothingness. This was a simple attack spell. “I want to see what you’re capable of. Do it.”

“Yes, sir! I definitely can’t do that!” Herscherik shot his hand up, answering with an energetic smile.

Meanwhile, Shiro furrowed his brows as if he had bit into a sour lemon, ready to drop a few curses. At this point, Herscherik was used to the gorgeous death glare, even though it had rattled him at first.

“Can’t...? Even if you’re not good at it, you can at least do that one. Or can you not use magic at all?” Shiro interrogated.

“I’ve... technically cast a spell before...” Herscherik scratched his cheek. I don’t have any Magic, and I can only cast spells that can be accomplished with Floating Magic... I guess I don’t have to hide that. Herscherik concluded that having no Magic would not end up being a critical disadvantage. “But I don’t have any Magic Within.”

Shiro looked at the prince like he was an endangered animal. “You don’t have any?”

Herscherik had heard that people with no Magic were extremely rare: one per nation, give or take. He understood why Shiro was shocked. “Yes. But I was able to use a little magic because of this.” At that, Herscherik produced the silver pocket watch. “This watch can collect Floating Magic for me to cast spells... albeit only the simplest ones.” The best he could do was create a faint ball of light, ignite a flame the size of a fingertip, or generate a cup’s worth of water.

“I see,” Shiro muttered to himself. “That’s why...” You weren’t afraid of my powers. Taking in Floating Magic was nothing unusual to Herscherik. Moreover, his ignorance of magic in general had allowed him to accept Shiro with ease. Disappointed by this realization, Shiro shook his head. What was I expecting from this kid...?

“What’s wrong, Mister Shiro? Are you not feeling well?”

Shiro dismissed Herscherik’s concern, pointing at the pocket watch. “Let me see.”

Herscherik hesitated for a moment before stroking the watch once with care and handing it over.

Shiro took the watch and closely observed it. It was an antique but tastefully designed silver pocket watch... By a layman’s appraisal, anyway. Then, Shiro’s eyes widened as he noticed some specific detail.

“An Ancient relic...?” Shiro forced himself not to jump to conclusions and squinted his amber eyes to examine the watch more closely. As he had suspected, the detailed decorations on the watch were actually composed of complex formulas unlike any Shiro had seen before. What’s more, they were written to interlock with one other. Most people would see nothing more than an ordinary pocket watch, but those who had the right knowledge would understand the true value the watch held: enough for a man to live three lifetimes in luxury.

“An Ancient relic?” Herscherik asked.

“Have you studied much history?”

Herscherik nodded. There were three periods of recorded history in this world, excluding the one they were currently living in. The one before the present was called the New Dawn Era, when the entire world was united and people lived in peaceful prosperity. At the beginning of the New Dawn Era, the world was divided into numerous nations of various sizes, all entangled in wars. Then, a hero of unknown birth and background had brought the seemingly eternal wars to an end. This hero single-handedly stabilized the nations of the world and brought about lasting peace, like a new dawn rising after an endless dark night. The hero was later celebrated as a saint, and legends tell of them joining the gods after their death.

Much time had passed since then, though, and in Herscherik’s time the world was once again divided by strife.

The Era before the New Dawn was called the Blank Era, of which no records existed. The theories that had developed to explain this ranged from a simple natural disaster to the gods literally having remade the world in some way. In any case, no one knew anything about that empty space in the timeline of this world’s history.

Before that era existed the Ancient Era, the oldest in known history. The Ancient Era, it had been said, had teemed with magical technology that surpassed that of the current day, and it had lasted for tens of thousands of years. No history older than that had been uncovered. However, the Ancient civilizations had all eventually collapsed, and their technologies had been lost with them.

“If this belongs to the Ancient Era, I’m not surprised that it can convert Floating Magic,” Shiro declared.

Historical documents of the era told of magical artifacts that allowed for spontaneous long-range travel, vehicles that flew like a bird in the sky, as well as objects packed with a library’s worth of knowledge. These things would have been brushed off as fairy tales, if it wasn’t for historical objects that most definitely dated back to the Ancient Era.

The formulas on the watch were much more intricate and complex than anything seen in the current day. It was extremely rare to see a functional relic—items like this one were being restored and researched in various nations as they spoke. What was learned from these relics would often contribute greatly to a nation’s military.

Historians endlessly debated why such a powerful civilization had come to an end and why the Blank Era existed at all. Herscherik had read history books in the past, but it didn’t seem like information he needed at the time, so he just perused them without paying mind to any details. The history of the three Eras and relics aside, Herscherik was concerned with “the conversion of Floating Magic.” If the watch truly was an Ancient relic, it seemed like converting Floating Magic was actually quite a rare ability.

“Wait,” Herscherik said. “It’s not normal to take in Floating Magic?”

“I wouldn’t say so.”

“Huh... Really.” Herscherik stroked the pocket watch once it was returned to him. He didn’t know what to do, now that he knew that it was extremely valuable. “Maybe I should give the watch to Research...” The watch contained unfathomable value simply by virtue of being a functional Ancient relic. Herscherik didn’t know why Count Ruseria had been in possession of such a thing, or if he had understood its value. In fact, Herscherik wasn’t even sure if he should be holding on to it right now.

I don’t want to give it up, though... This wasn’t just a watch to Herscherik. It meant something to him.

Seeing how Herscherik became visibly upset, Shiro answered his question. “No one would solve its mystery if you gave it up to Research. It would end up in a museum like most Ancient relics. It won’t matter much if you hold on to it.”

Herscherik thought about it. “Okay!” he said, cheerfully. “Thank you, Shiro!”

Shiro looked the other way, and cleared his throat. “Now what?”

“Now...?” Herscherik parroted, as he tucked the watch away in his pocket.

“I came to teach you magic. What’s the point if you can’t use it?”

“Then...” Herscherik contemplated. “Could you teach me about magic? Please.” Herscherik had not learned anything about the art after discovering that he was devoid of Magic Within during his very first lesson. He had read a few magic books while he was learning to read, but none of the content stuck with him. Besides, Herscherik had decided that he shouldn’t cut contact with Shiro, who was a link with the Church—even though it was unclear if he was actually involved in the drug trafficking, the incident in the test field, or with anything that might happen next. Though, truth be told, he wasn’t ready to let go of his magic tutor who reminded him of Shiro the white cat.

Shiro sighed at Herscherik’s smiling request. “All right...”

Two months had passed since Herscherik began taking magic lessons from Shiro. Twice a week, Herscherik would learn the basics of magic, as well as its history.

“Magic is separated into branches, and they are greatly affected by the natural affinity of the Spellcaster...” Herscherik said to himself, as he was reviewing what he’d learned so far in his notebook.

Magic was separated into three main branches: Elemental, Divine, and Manipulation. The most common branch was Elemental, also called Conversion spells, that converted raw Magic into elements like fire, water, light—even barriers. Since the caster changed their own Magic into the desired element, everyone had an easier time with some elements than others, which meant that a spell’s effectiveness varied by person.

“That’s right,” Shiro chimed in. “With inspiration and training, a Spellcaster can actually combine multiple elements. For example...” Shiro explained how the spell he had used to trap that misfired fireball in the test field was a combination of water and barrier spells. He had contained the fireball with water, then kept it from affecting its surroundings with a barrier until it was extinguished.

“Couldn’t you have done the same thing with just a barrier? If it cut off airflow, it should have put out the fire inside.” Fire can’t burn without oxygen, after all.

It was a natural observation for Herscherik, but the question elicited a surprised look from Shiro. It wasn’t something he expected a child who hadn’t even started attending the academy to ask. “Natural fires, or fires caused by magical flame can’t burn without air, but since magical flames are fueled by pure Magic, airflow doesn’t matter. That fireball would have kept burning as long there was Magic to fuel it. It would have been pointless and time consuming for me to maintain a barrier while I waited for all the casters’ Magic to be depleted.”

“I see...” Herscherik noted that magical elements were completely unlike natural occurrences to begin with. “Does magic never use things that already exist in nature, like water or air?” This was a common trope in fantasy pieces written in Ryoko’s world, and he wondered if using regular water from the tap, for example, could save the Spellcaster on Magic when casting a water spell.

Shiro stared back at him. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Well that’s demoralizing,” Herscherik pouted his lips without any sign of actual demoralization, which was par for course for Herscherik.

Shiro let out another sigh, as he had done countless times when dealing with his less-than-excellent student. “Things in nature have a significant amount of Floating Magic in them. That counts as a separate pool of Magic. Remember how difficult it was for multiple Spellcasters to cast together?”

“So, it’s difficult to handle any kind of Magic that has different qualities than your own?”

“That’s right. So, using things in nature that contain Floating Magic is much more difficult than just converting your own Magic. Besides, you’d have to construct a formula that took natural materials into account.” That’s why your watch and I are the outliers, Shiro silently added. Even after understanding Shiro’s powers, Herscherik’s attitude towards his magic tutor hadn’t changed. He had only rambled on about nonsense like how never running out of Magic was “OP,” whatever that meant. Shiro didn’t know how to take Herscherik’s surprisingly casual reaction. “The point of that experiment was for each caster to adjust to each other’s Magic. The item allowed the triplets to actually cast the spell more than three times out of ten. I’d call that successful.”

The fact that the triplets, who shared a form of telepathy and had similar qualities of Magic, could only cast the spell about thirty percent of the time with the help of the magical item was a testament to how difficult combined spells were.

“Why are formulas necessary for magic, anyway?” Herscherik asked. “I’ve never seen them come up when you cast spells during class.” He hadn’t seen that ribbon of light around Shiro since the accident in the test field.

“Your question doesn’t make any sense. Constructing a formula and reciting an incantation is simply how you cast magic.”

“But you can cast easier spells with just an incantation.” Herscherik could use the illumination spell with just that and the watch... not that Herscherik totally understood what a formula was, anyway.

“You can cast it, but it’s much less efficient. For simple spells, though, it doesn’t matter much.” Shiro watched his student, who only tilted his head in confusion. “Our Magic Within isn’t bottomless. Think of Magic like physical stamina. Running somewhere instead of walking will get you there faster, but you’ll tire out faster.”

“So you spend more Magic by not using a formula?”

“Correct. It also causes more strain on your body and the results are less refined.”

“Refined?”

“A fireball spell cast with a formula, as opposed to without, will hit your target more reliably. Besides, a formula allows you to control things like the firing speed, tracking abilities, range of explosion when it lands... But, the more information you put into the formula, the longer your incantation will be and the more Magic you’ll spend.”

Herscherik’s confusion had only gotten worse. “Formulas sound hard... Not that I can use them anyway. But, but those two ribbons of light floating around you certainly were pretty!” Herscherik said with dreamy eyes, recalling the scene that he’d thought resembled an angel’s descent.

Shiro wasn’t quite thrilled by his statement. “Simple ones, you can process in your head. But when you use compound spells of that caliber or highly refined spells, the formulas materialize like that.”

Therefore, Herscherik concluded, formulas are sparkly things that appear when Spellcasters use complicated spells. “Materialize. Right. Materialize.” With his brain packed beyond capacity at the moment, Herscherik repeated the phrase rather robotically.

Shiro would not let him get away with it. “You don’t understand it, do you?” he said with a glare.

“Does not compute. I’m sorry.”

Shiro patiently elaborated. “I’m sure you can do simple additions and subtraction in your head, but it’s easier to write out more complex problems, right?”

Herscherik thought to himself that the ribbons of light were like a notepad. He was starting to become aware of how difficult it was to learn magic when he couldn’t perform any of it himself.

“The key to magic is quickly constructing a refined or efficient formula to cast an effective spell. It all comes down to the skill of the caster. And, like I said, a spell is affected by the nature of the caster’s Magic, which means two people using the same formula won’t guarantee the same results.”

Herscherik made a mental note that magic was more reliant on the individual Spellcaster than he’d thought. “Wait, what about magical items?” he asked. While he still didn’t understand the effects of an Elemental magical item, he thought that some magical items, like a scanner or something, could be used by everyone and achieve the same results.

“Magical items have built-in formulas so anyone with Magic can use them to a certain level of effectiveness. Streetlights, for example, have a formula that automatically converts Floating Magic.” Shiro went on to explain that the tools used by everyday people were called magical items, while tools that Spellcasters used to assist them in their magic were called magical devices. He added that, depending on its size and purpose, a magical item might be as large as a military weapon or an entire building.

While the conversation had derailed significantly from Elemental magic, Herscherik was keeping up now. “Then we have Divine and Manipulation... I kind of get Divine magic, I think.”

Divine magic included healing and purification spells. Healing spells treated ailments of the body, while purification spells destroyed the living dead—a phenomenon where Magic built up in animal carcasses to make them move—or exorcised the souls of the dead who harbored grudges and stayed in this world to become an evil spirit. Using Divine magic required particular characteristics like Hoenir’s. Since not many were born with that kind of Magic Within, there were few who could wield Divine spells. However, there were also non-magical doctors and the study of medicine in this world, which kept healing Spellcasters from being completely indispensable.

I’m sure glad for that, Herscherik thought. If healing magic held such significance, then the Church that monopolized Divine magic would gain absolute power over the literal lives of everyone in this world. “That leaves us with Manipulation magic. Psychological attacks, mind control... This is kind of scary,” Herscherik remarked as he reviewed his notes on the subject.

Manipulation was a branch of magic where the caster controlled Magic Within directly. Spells of this type could attack or control the mind of others—puppeteering spells and curses. These kinds of spells attacked, destroyed, or controlled the enemy’s mind with Magic. Puppeteering spells, in contrast to purification, imbued Magic into corpses or inanimate objects to control them at the caster’s will, and curses were just what Herscherik was expecting: spells that control the actions, mind, or life of the caster or target through mediums like words, talismans, or even contracts. The perfect branch of magic for mischief and mayhem.

“Think of it the other way around. A mind spell can be a terrifying attack—but imagine someone with severe mental trauma, for example. If you use a mind spell to help them overcome that, haven’t you helped them? Besides, puppeteering controls something that is no longer, or never was, alive. One could send those animated corpses or objects into dangerous places, minimizing human casualties. Same principle for jinxes and hypnosis categorized under curses.”

Herscherik nodded. “It’s all in the intent of the caster.” Just like a sword didn’t make a murderer, using manipulation magic didn’t mean that the caster was nefarious in any way.

Shiro agreed, adding, “Manipulation magic becomes drastically more difficult when dealing with another source of Magic. They’re all difficult to wield and easy to fail at. Not to mention, they require intricate formulas and a lot of Magic.” The success rate of mind spells relied heavily on the target’s Magic and mental state. Casting a puppeteering spell on something that already had Magic in it was much more difficult and required a large amount of power. Curses simply didn’t achieve much bang for the buck. Compared to other branches, Manipulation magic was definitely the most difficult to use effectively. “Besides, any important place in the country, like the entire castle and the outer quarters we’re in, will be covered in barriers to prevent Manipulation magic. Don’t worry about it.”

That came as a relief to Herscherik. He was just wondering how he would deal with his father or brothers being controlled by a hostile Spellcaster. What’s more, according to Shiro, royalty were less susceptible to Manipulation magic since they had more Magic Within than most. And if a spell that powerful existed, Barbosse would have used it. But then, Herscherik realized, Barbosse manipulates Father like a marionette even without magic. He tightened his fist under the desk. He needed to act fast, before his country would become entirely doomed.

“We’re done for today,” Shiro said, as he began erasing the blackboard. His demeanor had not changed at all over the past two months, always showing up with a grumpy expression. Despite his attitude, he had always been punctual.

Herscherik did notice that Shiro was a little less crabby when talking about magic. “I can tell you really like this topic, Mister Shiro.”

“Huh?” Shiro frowned, dusting chalk from his clothes. He looked at Herscherik as if the prince was some bizarre little animal he had never seen before. “What are you talking about?” He scowled.

Herscherik was beginning to recognize when Shiro was masking his positive emotions. “You don’t frown when you’re talking magic.” He pointed between his own brows.

Shiro reflexively covered his forehead and glared even more sharply at the prince. “It’s all I have...” He had been called a monster, forsaken by his parents, all because of the powers he was born with. “But without it, I would have never met him...” Shiro muttered aloud without realizing it.

“You mean Archbishop Hoenir?” Herscherik’s reaction was met by another glare from Shiro, but he paid it no mind. “You must be really fond of him, too.”

“Hmph...” Shiro didn’t deny the comment, but only looked away, his ears slightly reddened. “Master Hoenir is the only reason I’m alive and have been able to study magic. That’s all it is.”

Despite Shiro’s attempt to sound cavalier, Herscherik sensed much weight behind the comment. Just as Herscherik was about to ask Shiro to elaborate, they heard a knock at the door. Herscherik opened the door to let Kuro into the room.

“Prince Hersch. Your next appointment is pressing.”

“Uh, what was it, again?”

“With the daughters of Marquis Barbosse,” Kuro answered, maintaining a perfect mask. He was only putting on the flawless butler act because Shiro was there; if they had been alone, Kuro would have displayed his great exasperation.

“Right!” Herscherik hurriedly began clearing the desk of his notes. He had indeed scheduled an appointment to see the Barbosse sisters in the afternoon. It was past noon already.

“Then I’ll be going.”

“Oh, wait, Mister Shiro!” Herscherik called. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Shiro’s shapely brow shot up.