The Blacksmith and the Mage, Birds of a Feather (7)

Magic training is actually very simple.

A mage's ability is, in other words, measured by the number of spell formulas they can use.

In short, magic training is basically studying to increase one's knowledge of spell formulas.

Fortunately, I have a fairly good memory for things that interest me.

Though, when it comes to whether I have a good head on my shoulders, people often call me a fool or a lunatic, so I don't have much confidence in that.

I scratched away with my quill, copying the patterns and spell formulas recorded in the book onto paper.

Ultimately, copying things down was the fastest way for me to memorize them.

With pattern-based spell formulas, accuracy was the most important thing of all.

Of course, no spell formula can afford to sacrifice accuracy, but with patterns in particular, there was no point unless their form was reproduced perfectly.

I wondered what on earth had prompted the person who first discovered this pattern to try using it for magic.

Now that their number had grown, certain rules had been discovered among the patterns that served as spell formulas, but the very first one should have offered no clues at all.

The more I learned about spell formulas, the more that question nagged at me, and I tilted my head in puzzlement while continuing to copy them exactly as shown.

Three years had passed since I began learning magic.

The staff I had made on a whim as a magic tool for self-defense had initially been ignored by mages simply because it was a magic tool, but after an incident, it began to gain widespread recognition throughout Odine—not explosively, perhaps, but widely known all the same.

What set things in motion was the full-scale invasion of the North Zaire Kingdom by the Darotte army in the northern part of the Small States.

In response, the North Zaire Kingdom requested that the Azuedda Alliance be activated among the various countries of the Small States, and military mages from Odine were dispatched to the north as well.

Kaushuman was not a military mage, and naturally, neither of us had anything to do with that deployment to the north.

However, students from one of the magic academies—the Military Magic Academy—would accompany the deployment to the north as a support unit.

On that occasion, one of the Military Magic Academy students bought a short staff that could activate barrier magic, made by Kaushuman and me, as a good-luck charm—and thanks to it, narrowly escaped death on the battlefield in the north.

Apparently, when Darotte cavalry launched a night raid on the rear encampment, the student defended against them with barrier magic despite being nearly panicked.

An apprentice mage had survived a surprise attack.

This was apparently astonishing to the military mages, and the barrier short staff suddenly drew a great deal of attention.

The army, impressed by its reliability, adopted the barrier short staff as official equipment for military mages.

That was how magic tools proved their worth.

In Odine today, the only eccentric who specialized in researching magic tools was Kaushuman.

As a result, he became the leading authority in the field.

Once his name became known, requests for joint research came one after another, and many apprentices appeared, hoping to study under him.

If he had trained those apprentices until they became full-fledged practitioners, Kaushuman surely could have become a mage himself.

But...

"Ugh, enough already. Research presentations are such a pain in the ass. No matter how much I explain all this to people who never showed any interest before, it's pointless..."

At the desk across from me, Kaushuman was slumped face-first over his desk, utterly exhausted as he compiled materials for a research presentation in half a month.

He had flatly turned down every offer of joint research and every request to become his apprentice, as though he had no interest in any of them.

He had brusquely rejected them because he didn't want to lose time making his own magic tools or honing his smithing skills for forging magic swords.

For Kaushuman, what he could learn to make was probably far more important than attaining the position of a mage.

But if he refused to collaborate and rejected all apprentices, no one else would emerge to research magic tools.

The military had just adopted magic tools in the form of short staffs as official equipment, yet if there were no mages researching magic tools besides Kaushuman, people would run into all sorts of problems involving vested interests and the like.

That was because pattern-based spell formulas had seen little research until then, given how inconvenient they were to use.

Thus, after being summoned and persuaded by the higher-ups, he had reluctantly agreed to present his research results to date.

Well, I could certainly understand why Kaushuman felt like complaining.

But more important than that was what would happen after his research presentation was over.

"Forget that for now. Once your presentation is over, it'll finally be time to start prototyping a magic sword, right? You'll come up with the spell formula, and I'll forge a sword and engrave the formula into its blade. I can hardly wait, so hurry up and finish that presentation."

Those words were not meant to comfort him at all; I was simply foisting my own desires on him.

But Kaushuman...

"Yeah, you're right. We can't waste time on this crap. I'll get it over with as quickly as I can, so I'm counting on you to start mass-producing the sword blanks for us."

Those words restored his motivation, and he stood up and began putting his materials away.

With my current knowledge, it was still difficult to choose the best spell formulas.

Kaushuman's smithing skill was good, as one would expect from someone who had studied under a dwarf, but even so, it was still rudimentary, to put it mildly.

At this rate, neither of us could yet engrave accurate patterns into a blade to form a spell formula without compromising the sword's strength.

Even so, we had both begun to see a path forward.

If we continued training at our current pace for another two years, then even if we were still far from perfection, we would be able to find our own way forward after that.

Besides, in two years, I would have to go pick up the half-elf child.

Thus, we decided that once those two years had passed and we began seeking our own paths, we would each aim to possess one jointly made magic sword.

Using every skill we each possessed at that point.

Of course, just as I said earlier, we would start with prototypes.

There were still many problems to solve before we could make a weapon called a magic sword.

For example, even if we forged a magic sword that produced its intended effect, if the blade warped during use, the pattern would warp with it and cease to function as a spell formula.

To avoid that, should we deliberately create a section of the blade that would be prone to warping, letting stress from elsewhere escape there, and avoid engraving any patterns on that section?

Or should we protect the blade with magic?

The former would leave us uncertain about its effectiveness as a sword, while the latter would require us to keep channeling magic power into the sword throughout combat.

We would have to think of and test various other methods as well, searching for the best one.

In other words, a very enjoyable period of trial and error awaited us.

Which was why I wanted Kaushuman to hurry up and get that research presentation over with.