The Obsessive Regressor of The Academy

29. Rite of Passage

Weeks had slipped by since Acel’s return to Weiheim. During that time, he’d spent his days refining the spells stolen from the scroll, using them directly, or entirely reworking them to produce different effects.

There was progress. Acel had successfully created several spells, like Lightning Resonance, that required constant observation. Yet, they still fell short for practical use. He could force them to fit, perhaps, but there was no real reason to choose them over other, more established spells.

‘Still, not bad considering it’s all trial and error.’

Acel propped his chin on his hand, conjuring a small tendril of lightning above his palm. The elongated spark obeyed his will, tracing intricate geometric patterns in the air. He manipulated the magic as if solving a cube, glancing at two letters tossed haphazardly on the desk.

One was from the Academy. It held the date for the entrance ceremony, and details of his assigned dormitory.

Luminous Academy uniquely held its entrance ceremony as a banquet. Freshmen as well as current students would gather in the Academy’s banquet hall to foster familiarity and exchange. Not bad, but it was still a bit off putting to Acel, who prefered a serene atmosphere.

Still, he wasn’t the type to be unable to enjoy such things, so it didn’t bother him much.

The problem was the attention and interest he’d draw as Ena’s disciple after starting the Academy. Though, that was a problem time would solve. Anyone who started trouble would be thoroughly stomped, and he’d treat the people who treated him well with equal respect. Unless provoked, he wouldn’t go out of his way to cause issues.

‘Wiesel, then.’

The Academy dormitories were named after heroes who had greatly contributed to the Empire. Wiesel was where students with top grades resided. So, his duel with Fernan hadn’t been meaningless, it seemed.

“Hmm.”

Acel leaned back against the chair, his gaze drifting to the other letter.

A letter bearing the large imprint of the Witches’ Society seal on its package. Without a doubt, it came from the Society. The content concerned his Rite of Passage.

They’d held a party at the manor to celebrate his coming of age. But that had been nothing more than a simple banquet rather than a formal affair. The Witches’ Society held a separate Rite of Passage.

An event held every year just before spring. Last year, two mages had gone through the Rite, but this year, Acel was alone. The Witches’ Society wasn’t exactly teeming with young mages, so the number of central figures was bound to be small.

‘Only two days from now, huh.’

There wasn’t much time until the event started. It was a simple congratulatory party, so there shouldn’t be much to prepare, but he should at least have a decent uniform to wear. All the clothes he owned were high-quality, but he didn’t have many outfits that were elegant enough for a party.

Since he thought of it, he might as well get moving. Acel threw on a jacket he’d carelessly discarded, informed Hailey he’d be out for a while, and headed into the city. Ena gave him a generous allowance every week, so he had no shortage of funds for buying clothes. He stopped by a shop he frequented and bought a suitable uniform before returning.

*

The day of the Coming-of-Age Ceremony dawned. The event was scheduled for the afternoon, granting a rather leisurely morning. Not that he was free to wander as he pleased. He was promptly seized by a host of maids within the banquet hall, destined to have his face plastered with powders and creams.

Maids employed by the Witches’ Coven. As those overseeing the banquet, their duties were varied and extensive. Among them was the task of adorning the ceremony’s protagonist. Perhaps for this reason, their touch was remarkably delicate, cautious. As if handling a meticulously crafted jewel.

A gracious thing, yet Asel found it undeniably uncomfortable. He’d lived his entire life without so much as a smudge on his face, and now, to suddenly have layers of things daubed on felt beyond suffocating – it choked him.

“Is all this truly necessary?”

“Don’t be absurd! For the ceremony’s protagonist to appear *au naturel* is akin to declaring, with one’s very being, a disdain for participating.”

Hearing it put that way, Asel had no recourse. He sighed heavily and waited patiently until the makeup was complete.

Thankfully, the maids released Asel after an hour or so.

They couldn’t conceal their awe at the creation they had wrought.

“Wow…”

“Such a handsome canvas to begin with, even a light touch brings out the best.”

Asel stood, allowing the maids to cast their appraising gazes over him, then offered a slight bow before escaping the dressing room. A corridor shimmering with opulence greeted him, and Asel started towards his own waiting chamber.

“Oh, it’s Asel.”

He encountered Bell, transformed into a cat, along the way. She sat purring on a windowsill, then languidly cracked open one eye, sensing Asel’s presence. Asel inclined his head respectfully toward her.

“Good morning.”

“Yes, yes. Since we’ve met, come over here and pet me a little.”

Bell lifted her hindquarters in invitation. Asel smiled wryly and tapped her rump lightly.

When in her human form, she cloaked herself from head to toe, yet, transformed into a cat or dog, she reveled in physical affection as if a different person entirely. Was it a change in sensation, or did her very thought process shift to that of an animal? Having never employed a transmutation spell himself, he couldn’t know.

“Purrrr…”

Bell emitted a contented rumble as Asel scratched her head and hindquarters simultaneously, slumping into a boneless heap.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just napping. Gotta conserve energy before the ceremony begins.”

“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep in your room?”

“It’s more pleasant to nap as a cat, basking in the sun.”

Bell batted at Asel’s hand with a padded paw before stretching languidly. She yawned once, then turned a bright smile toward Asel.

“More importantly, Asel, have you seen Ena?”

“…? No, not yet.”

It was tradition for a Witch’s Coven coming-of-age ceremony to be attended by the mentor as well. Therefore, Ena, like Asel, had arrived at the banquet hall early to be fussed over by the maids. Asel had few requirements – his hair was short, easily styled – but Ena was different. Being a woman, the makeup process was lengthier, and her long hair required meticulous attention.

Thus, her preparations were inevitably more time-consuming than his. Consequently, he had yet to catch a proper glimpse of Ena since arriving at the hall.

“Is that so…”

Bell grinned at Asel’s reply, then leaped onto his shoulder with feline grace. Whispering into his ear, she confided,

“Don’t fall in love at first sight. And absolutely, never see a fortune teller.”

“…Pardon? Out of the blue?”

“Just a bit of advice.”

Bell chuckled, hopping down to the floor. Asel watched her receding figure, a bewildered expression on his face, before shaking his head and stepping into the waiting room.

The waiting room contained a modest-sized bed and a sofa, standing alone. Likely furnished so one could steal a nap, or perhaps read a book, before the commencement ceremony. Not feeling particularly weary, he plopped down on the sofa and checked his watch.

Ten in the morning. Still two hours until the banquet began. Asel pondered how to occupy the brief interlude, before settling on simply mulling over magic. Seeking to consolidate the progress he’d made through recent study, he closed his eyes and thought about formulas and mana.

Several formulas he’d pilfered from a scroll shop. The number he could readily utilize was considerable, yet Asel wasn’t satisfied. His aim was to revise the stolen formulas, recreating them into lightning or flame formulas.

First on his list was to weave a warding formula into a lightning formula brimming with attack spells, crafting a long-range defensive magic. This, however, was an achievement that required further study of magical autonomy and mana distribution, so he couldn’t expect any substantial breakthroughs imminently. Therefore, despite it being his top priority, he was still treading carefully, step by step.

So he began researching the second priority. A formula inscribed on a scroll, one Asel hadn’t yet used. A magic the Witches’ Society hadn’t bothered to handle, despite the peculiarity of its circuitry, due to it not being a unique magic.

“Ice.”

Crack!

The word left his lips and, simultaneously, an ice spike bloomed above Asel’s hand. The frigid ice spun, scattering shards of ice around it.

A lower-level ice magic formula.

Ice.

Magic to create ice.

Asel had successfully tuned the formula slightly, shaping it into a spike. Not merely using a spell he’d seen, but actually revising it. A cryomancer would’ve foamed at the mouth and charged at him, such was the absurdity of the act, yet Asel’s face was filled with dissatisfaction.

‘Ice formulas accumulate cold in the circuits with each use.’

Ice magic, born from fundamentally altering hydro magic, one of the elemental magics of fire, water, wind, and earth. Perhaps because of that, unlike hydro magic, which simply required use, ice magic had a distinct feature where the circuits would crackle and freeze with each formula cast.

The increase in magical power as the cold accumulated was an advantage. But the moment it exceeded a certain threshold, the circuits would freeze solid and shatter, usually resulting in instant death, or, if lucky, a body that could never use magic again.

The same held true for Asel. He felt the circuits and his body temperature cool slightly with the magic’s manifestation, and his lips twitched.

There was only one way to purge the cold from the circuits: pass the time without using magic, allowing the cold accumulated in the circuits to melt away on its own. There was no other way to deal with the cold.

Asel had pondered this for days.

The answer he reached:

‘Simultaneously manifest fire-attribute mana and ice-attribute mana to cancel out the cold.’

By doing so, it would be possible to melt the cold accumulating with each ice formula cast, using the mana from fire magic. It would also become possible to manifest magic with contradictory properties, like cold fire or hot ice.

It wouldn’t be an easy task. Mixing mana that stood at opposite extremes. A single misstep could cause the body to explode. Lacking the relevant knowledge, he hesitated to attempt it recklessly right now.

He didn’t intend to give up, though. Asel believed in his own talent, and he had no intention of abandoning his thirst for knowledge of magic. With repeated research and accumulated experience, it was a realm he would surely reach someday. That was why he was entering the academy. It was the only place where he could acquire all kinds of knowledge.

Just as Asel was thinking that, someone knocked on the waiting room door.

-Asel, can I come in?

It was Ena’s voice. Asel leaped to his feet and opened the door himself.

“Master, you’ve come…”

He spoke with a welcoming voice, but trailed off upon seeing Ena.

The Ena who usually roamed about in simple clothes was not here.

A black dress that boldly exposed her shoulders and upper chest, ornate hairpins that subtly held back her snow-white hair. A brooch pinned to her neck. Cheeks flushed with a shy blush. And a single black mole on her chest.

Ena was beautiful even on a regular day. But with makeup and her hair and clothes carefully arranged, even Asel, so accustomed to her appearance, was left speechless. Then, Bel’s words about not looking at the mole flashed in his mind, and he inadvertently glanced at the mole on Ena’s chest.

“…Your eyes are behaving strangely, Asel.”

Ena, noticing that Asel’s gaze lingered a bit too long on her chest, covered it with her hand and spoke in a bashful voice.