Casual Heroing

And let there be light.

Yeah, I wish it was that easy, huh?

Not in a blasphemous way, obviously. My family is very religious, and I even though don’t really care that much about going to church, there are a few good wife-prospects there so…

Right now, I’m practicing pagan magic. The one I should make light with if I don’t want the book to zap me to death.

I’m not sure it will be to death, but why risk it, right?

I think about my previous thoughts on Harry Potter, and I find it extremely funny that my first feat of magic reminds me of an old version of the computer game of the most famous wizard on Earth.

It’s hard to explain, because the nuance of it is impossible to convey to muggles.

But it is indeed very similar to tracing a shape. Imagine having a pen and you can regulate how much ink you can discharge at once. Well, weaving magic together follows a similar procedure.

You put together a rune, but you don’t have one starting point. I tried and I managed to start completing the thing from three different parts.

It’s like…

Oh, man, it’s hard to explain.

It’s like playing that Harry Potter game where you have to trace the spell during your classes. But the model is not two-dimensional. You have three dimensions and the imaginary lines you have to follow can be thinner or thicker.

And not just that!

There appears to be a time-component to this damned thing!

Is time a dimension?

Can I say that this thing is actually four dimensions worth of pain in the ass?

The lines move, they are not fixed. For this spell, it’s easy to see where they will go, and when you will need to tackle such lines.

It’s like tracing scribble, honestly. It’s like a three-dimensional scribble that moves around, evolves in time, and that you must trace with your mana.

How does that work, huh?

Well, I wish knew, pal.

One would think, ‘well, it’s just a [Light] spell, how hard can this be? I wasn’t Albert Einstein, but I bet I could do such a spell easily!’

‘The student should start by using a three-point approach, before trying to complete the whole thing at once. It may take minutes on the first try. Remember, the path to [Archmage] is full of trials! Don’t give up!’

I cannot deal with the pep talk from this book.

It makes me feel even more stupid.

“Come on, you son of a gun,” I growl at the scribble I’m forming in the air in front of me and that I can only see with [Advanced Mana Sense]. “Come on, you filthy beast.”

I keep swearing at it, hoping it will make it easier.

Slowly and with attention, I start tracing the outline of the spell the book showed me. I don’t go for perfection, but the spell… matrix?

Is that a matrix? Is that what a matrix would look like?

Should I call it ‘scribble’ or ‘matrix’?

The question makes my attention falter and the entire thing implode once again, leaving me slightly drained. The book has already told me that [Light] doesn’t take much mana, but I’ve failed countless times by now.

Whoever created this blasted thing didn’t consider how talentless a person can be. I start thinking that the ‘23’ on my score was probably on a scale of one to a thousand. That would definitely make sense.

“Book, how much time do I have left?”

‘4 hours.’

“How bad will the [Thunderbolt Curse] zap me if I fail?”

‘Not something a future [Archmage] shouldn’t be able to take with some strong healing potion to help cure the burns.’

Isn’t that comforting?

Now, since I don’t really have any strong healing potion just laying around, I think I will try again.

So, let’s start with the book’s instructions.

Three points to start from. Interesting.

“Book, are there optimal points to start from?”

‘Yes.’

That’s the answer.

“Ok, book, can you tell me where I should start?”

The words in front of me appear in black ink, as usual.

‘Start from the farthest points you can see, keep a balance. Don’t move the mana along the spell matrix uniformly. Balance is everything. Some parts will require you going slower, some going faster.’

“Couldn’t you have told me before?” I ask, exasperated.

‘A proper [Mage] has to learn to ask the right questions.’

And that’s it, the ink disappears, and the book resumes its blank look.

Oh well, let’s look at this scribble—matrix once again.

I activate the skill and start looking in blank space, trying to visualize the spell matrix in front of me.

It rotates gently, changing shape ever so slightly while dancing around.

It’s fascinating—no, enrapturing.

This time, I focus. Magic is like a recipe. You can’t mess up, but you need to stay flexible.

I focus my mana on three points, the ones at the outermost parts of the matrix. Now, I start slowly tracing them toward the center.

I can feel my sweaty forehead going cold from the exertion. This is no joke. Mana is ethereal and it’s not like trying to draw something with your hands, but it’s still much harder than you would think.

Now, though, I know something more. I have the new teaching the book has imparted on me.

“Slower there. You, faster.”

I whisper to myself to guide my mana in the right grooves of the scribble. I make it a bit thinner there, and a bit faster. Then, I make it a bit heavier up there, and a little slower.

I start getting into a weird rhythm. I’m like a Pacman professional, I move and weave my mana all around.

It’s a strange dance, as if someone was beating a drum in my hears, but I’ve fallen into it so perfectly that without even noticing, the three lines I was tracing now touched each other.

Now, let’s take a second to examine what I just did.

Someone would feel tremendously proud of completing a spell in a day or two, I guess. However, I have to remind you, I just completed the spell a few inches from my eyes. Sure, why wouldn’t I? Do you think that I am able to think?

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

I just blasted a [Light] spell right in my eyes, so strong I feel them burning, and I scream in pain.

Sure, making it ten feet away and closing my eyes would have been the same since I was using a skill to see the mana, and not my actual sight.

I’m on the ground, screaming in pain and swearing to high heaven, when I hear my door open and someone rush in.