“Starting today, I’ll be your instructor. Name’s Hephaestus.”
As the middle-aged professor introduced himself, replacing Professor Maia who had been teaching Scroll Magic until now, the lecture hall buzzed with murmurs.
“He looks so different from the other professors, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, totally.”
Just as Cain whispered from the seat beside me, unlike the other professors who generally had a neat and refined appearance, Hephaestus looked more like a scrawny middle-aged man.
His hair was messy, and his beard looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in days. His clothes were stained with what looked like black grease—probably from some kind of work.
“Why does he look so sleepy?”
“He keeps yawning. Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”
“I liked Professor Maia’s lectures better…”
Complaints from the other students drifted through the room.
Unbothered—or perhaps unaware—of the students’ grumbling, Hephaestus grabbed a piece of chalk and approached the blackboard.
“You all should’ve already learned the basics of Scroll Magic from Professor Maia. So I’ll assume you understand the core principle of engraving spell language to activate magic.”
Scritch, scritch-scratch.
Hephaestus began writing on the board with chalk.
But the handwriting… was horrendous.
“What does that even say?”
“I can’t read a thing.”
“Did he come to class drunk or something?”
Grumbles spread among the students once again.
Still, Hephaestus didn’t pay them any mind and continued scribbling silently.
“I… I can’t even take notes…”
Senia, who was normally careful about her notes, seemed to be panicking as she couldn’t copy anything down.
“Eriol, can you tell what he wrote?”
“Sorry, I’m not sure either.”
“I knew it! That handwriting is just impossible…”
“It’s not the handwriting.”
“Huh?”
Even the worst handwriting can be deciphered if there’s a pattern.
But what was on the blackboard couldn’t be interpreted.
Because…
“It’s just too advanced.”
“Too advanced?”
That’s right.
What Hephaestus was writing on the board now—was spell language.
And not just any spell language, but something so high-level I couldn’t even comprehend it.
“You probably think the Production Department is just about making magic items, huh?”
After finishing the final word, Hephaestus set the chalk down.
“But you’ve been underestimating us.”
At that moment—
The words on the board began to glow, and something strange started to happen.
“W-What’s going on?!”
“Ah…!”
Clunk, creak, clatter, rattle!
The intact blackboard suddenly split into multiple segments, which began moving on their own and forming into a new shape.
“W-Why is the blackboard doing that?!”
“Is… is this magic?!”
“Wait, that thing is—!”
Right before the stunned students’ eyes, the separated parts of the blackboard finished reassembling.
Whirr, clunk.
A humanoid figure stood beside Hephaestus, complete with two arms and two legs.
“A golem, made from the blackboard.”
“…!”
There wasn’t a single student who wasn’t shocked.
Creating a golem on the spot using the blackboard as material—no one had ever heard of such a thing.
‘Not only is he skilled at crafting golems on the fly… his creativity is incredible!’
As I watched in awe, Hephaestus placed a hand on the golem’s shoulder and continued.
“Modern magic is often thought of as something constructed entirely in the mind. Some even consider writing spell language by hand to be outdated.”
“…”
“But that’s not true. This too is modern magic.”
Hephaestus’s voice held conviction.
“A spell language imagined in your mind disappears quickly. But when you write it down like this, it remains for a longer period. That’s a crucial skill for us magicians.”
Raising his hand toward us, Hephaestus gestured as he continued.
“Even the uniforms you’re wearing have more spells embedded in them than the golem I just made. The way they adjust to your body size, stretch for movement, resist heat and cold, and dry quickly after getting wet—all of that is thanks to Production Magic.”
Production Magic.
At that phrase, the students’ eyes began to sparkle.
Unlike before, now everyone was paying rapt attention to Hephaestus’s every word.
“Creation Magic is magic that makes things. And because it produces tangible results, the more you study it, the more you’ll possess.”
With that, Hephaestus pulled out a device resembling a pocket watch from his chest pocket.
When he operated the device, a metal door suddenly appeared in midair.
“No way…”
“Is that… a dimensional storage?”
Dimensional Storage.
A cutting-edge magic that creates a storage space within the fabric of time and space, allowing objects to be stored and retrieved at will.
When I read about it in Ars Magazine a few months ago, it was supposedly still in the research phase. But here it was—already in practical use.
“Just so you know, I don’t do theory lectures. It’s hands-on practice from start to finish.”
Hephaestus opened the metal door, and the blackboard golem entered.
It began bringing out boxes one by one.
“What’s that?”
Students stretched their necks, trying to see what was inside.
Then Hephaestus opened one of the boxes and showed us the contents.
“We’ll be using these for today’s practice.”
“Gasp…!”
“Kyaaah!”
Cries of surprise broke out across the room.
Because inside the box… was a writhing creature.
“A s-slime?!”
A slime.
A jelly-like monster with a fluid, blob-like body.
It has no eyes, nose, or mouth, and tends to consume nearby living creatures by engulfing them.
Small slimes can be killed with simple chemicals, but when they grow larger, they become capable of devouring humans—making them very dangerous.
The slime in the box was about the size of a human head. Even that size could easily melt off a hand or foot.
“No need to be afraid. These are experimental slimes with their digestive acids disabled. You can stick your hand in and it won’t harm you.”
“Whoa…”
As Hephaestus casually plunged his hand into the slime, several students gasped.
“These experimental slimes have a special spell cast on them. They sense human thoughts and change form accordingly.”
“…?”
While students stared in confusion, Hephaestus fiddled with the slime.
It wriggled on its own, and then—transformed into a highly detailed model of a dragon.
“Wow…!”
“When you touch the slime while focusing on a specific image, it detects your thoughts and changes its shape accordingly.”
I was silently stunned.
The dragon figure was unexpectedly intricate and precise.
“Today, you’ll practice projecting the images in your mind onto the slime. This will help not only with Creation Magic, but with all kinds of magic use.”
The golem finished distributing all the boxes from the dimensional storage, each containing an experimental slime, along with a basic instruction sheet.
“Anything goes. Try creating whatever shape you want.”
As Hephaestus returned the slime in his hand to its original form, he said,
“Just think of it like playing with clay when you were a kid.”
The classroom grew noisy.
It was only natural that the students were bewildered—after all, they’d come all the way to the academy, and now they were suddenly being told to play with clay.
But amidst those uncertain students, Monarch Orson held his head high with confidence.
‘If it’s this, I can handle it.’
Monarch had received preliminary training before entering the academy.
He’d even handled one of these experimental slimes before.
Back then, he hadn’t been able to mold it into a proper shape and gave up… but now that he was more familiar with using magic thanks to the professors’ guidance, he was confident he could make a proper form.
‘Projecting the image in your mind… I understand what that really means now.’
Many people think magic is just about memorizing spells.
But that’s not enough. You have to be able to clearly visualize how it functions and what result it will produce.
Especially in production magic, imagining the result in detail is essential.
‘This is ultimately a training exercise in shaping… so I’ll get a better evaluation if I make something with intricate structure.’
Monarch glanced behind him.
There he saw Eriol fiddling with his slime, looking puzzled.
‘Eriol… don’t think you can keep running ahead on your own forever.’
The truth was, Monarch had felt deeply humiliated during the recent rookie tournament.
He’d been sure he’d place in the top four—only to fall short and rank fifth.
And to make matters worse, Eriol, whom he had quietly seen as a rival, ended up winning first place.
Of course Monarch was bitter.
‘I wouldn’t mind losing to someone else… but I will not lose to Eriol.’
In fact, even Senia had scored higher than him. Not to mention students like Helios and Charlotte from the upper class.
But Monarch’s competitive fire was aimed squarely at Eriol because of the grudge they’d held since the entrance exam.
‘The one who should represent the top class… is me, from the House of Duke Orson!’
With that, Monarch focused his mind.
He began to solidify the image in his head, trying to project it through his fingertips into the slime.
And then, the soft, gooey slime began to take shape.
“Wow, sir! It’s already taking form!”
“As expected of Lord Monarch!”
His followers peeked in from the sides, chattering excitedly.
There’d been a time when things were a bit awkward between them, but they’d come crawling back, realizing no one held more power and wealth than Monarch.
“We’re not at the bragging stage yet.”
“Huh?”
“I’m still far from done.”
Monarch continued to shape the slime.
Of course, he wasn’t molding it manually. It was all part of channeling the image from his mind.
“Whoa, seriously, Lord Monarch!”
“This is art!”
Thanks to his followers’ noise, more students started glancing his way.
But Hephaestus simply stared into space with a sleepy expression, paying no attention.
‘Just wait, you scruffy professor. I’ll blow your mind.’
Gritting his teeth, Monarch focused even harder.
And then—
“Ugh…”
He suddenly pulled his hand away, dizzy.
Cold sweat ran down his back. He’d clearly overexerted himself mentally.
Still… it was done.
“Ooh!”
“As expected of Lord Monarch…!”
Cheers and admiration echoed around him.
Everyone was amazed at the finished product.
“All done?”
“…!”
Monarch flinched and lifted his head.
Hephaestus had approached without him noticing, and was now looking down at Monarch’s creation.
“You made the academy.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Indeed.
Monarch had recreated a three-dimensional model of the Ars Magna Academy.
Several buildings, including the student hall, were all rendered in impressive detail.
“It looks like you were viewing it from the sky.”
“I was able to visualize the structure in my head quite easily.”
“Why did you make this?”
“Because of everything I’ve remembered and experienced… the most magnificent thing was Ars Magna Academy.”
“I see.”
Hephaestus nodded without much expression.
But he didn’t take his eyes off the model even once as he examined it.
‘See? He’s totally absorbed in my work!’
Monarch felt his pride swell.
‘Of course! No other freshman could make something this intricate out of slime!’
After a long look, Hephaestus finally spoke again.
“You created a solid image. Definitely above freshman level.”
“Thank you!”
“But.”
“Yes…?”
“You lack understanding.”
Lack understanding?
What was that supposed to mean?
“In any case, keep working as you are. If you do, you’ll achieve good results. Continue honing your skills.”
“Ah, y-yes…”
And with that, Hephaestus moved on.
He left Monarch standing there, feeling vaguely unsatisfied.
Turning his head, Hephaestus called out to another student.
“Looks like you’re finished as well. Mind showing me?”
“Ah, yes…”
Hephaestus began checking the other students’ creations, offering short comments here and there.
Eventually, he made his way to Eriol.
“Eriol Valencia, are you done?”
“Yes.”
Eriol nodded.
Monarch, curious, extended his neck to get a look.
“Huh?”
The moment he saw what Eriol had made with his slime—
Monarch couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Pfft! What the heck is that?”
Sitting on Eriol’s desk was… something so crude and unimpressive that, to Monarch’s eyes, it was laughable.
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