Infinite Wisdom

A few minutes later, I emerged from the bath, clad in a towel that delicately shielded my more sensitive parts. As I strolled through the bathroom, which was more like an indoor konyoku (mixed gender) onsen. The room exuded a distinct atmosphere reminiscent of the middle ages, a testament to a time when simplicity and functionality triumphed over opulence.

The walls were lined with cut-in-half bamboo, and the floor boasted stone tiles that painted a rustic picture. At the heart of the room lay a hexagon-shaped pool, the soothing warmth of spring water emanating from two taps, strategically positioned on the left and right sides of this inviting basin. Adjacent to the hexagonal pool were small chairs, offering a convenient spot for those who wished to rinse off. The expanse above me was supported by sturdy stone arches, and the entire space was illuminated by the soft glow of three modest candle chandeliers, casting a gentle light on the historical ambiance.

   "She… was beautiful." I murmured.

With the naked beauty of Priestess Luna edged into my memories I headed to sleep.

I walked up the spiral staircase and jumped right into my bed.

   "I've got to do something tomorrow; relaxing all day isn't my style," I mused aloud, realizing that my time had been consumed by idle chatter and aimless strolls, leaving me feeling somewhat purposeless.

   "I'll get a book from Luna—I can't navigate the city and forest blind without some knowledge."

   As I pondered my intentions and the possibilities of this new life, questions swirled in my mind. Adventure? Earning a livelihood? How should I shape my life in this unfamiliar world? The answers eluded me, yet one thing remained certain—I yearned to make the most of this new life. And that's what I was going to do: live to the fullest, so that no matter when I died, I'd have no regrets. This was my opportunity to start from zero after all.

Contemplating these thoughts, I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Upon awakening, my first destination was the abbey's library, situated on the opposite side of the chapel hall. Bypassing the conventional route, I opted for a shortcut, exiting through the private door of the abbey dormitory and passing through the chapel itself. It was a quicker path, sparing me from navigating the predetermined walkways.

   Arriving at the wooden door marked "library," I entered with care, mindful of the creaking floor beneath me. My intention was not to disturb anyone with unnecessary noise. Navigating through the library, I approached the librarian's desk, where I found Priestess Luna engrossed in a book at an aged oak desk. She was my first friend in this unfamiliar place, though the concept of friendship seemed funny given the unconventional circumstances of having seen her naked within the first two days of our acquaintance. Nevertheless, she was the first to extend warmth and openness, and I promised to trust her. I greeted her with a silent nod.

   First things first, mastering the art of reading in this new world's language. Language proficiency holds immense importance; while nearly all Japanese individuals are literate in their native tongue, a significant number tend to neglect the study of English or shy away from interactions in foreign countries. The ability to communicate in a second language is highly valued. With this in mind, I resolved to make the writing system of this world my initial focus.

   Hearing and speaking this world's language posed little challenge, thanks to my reincarnation into an already grown-up body. My subconscious had effortlessly adapted to verbal communication. However, the question lingered: would reading and writing present similar ease? Opting for a hands-on approach, I randomly selected a book from the library shelf, placing it on one of the available tables. As I perused the pages, the characters appeared completely unfamiliar, yet the writing order seemed oddly reminiscent of what I knew. Fortunately, this meant that my primary task lay in acquiring vocabulary, a substantial portion of which I had already encountered.

   "Let's attempt to decipher this title," I contemplated.

   "History of the Noor Empire." Ah, just as I suspected.

The body I now inhabited possessed the pre-existing ability to read.

   Upon discovering my newfound ability to read, the contents of the books intrigued me, marking the first time studying seemed genuinely enjoyable. Reflecting on this revelation, I realized it wasn't so different from the excitement of uncovering information about online games—a realization that wasn't all that bad.

Eager to delve into literature that could be genuinely beneficial for my new life, I approached Luna with a request for book recommendations.

   "Luna, can you suggest some books for me?"

   "Absolutely," she replied.

With enthusiasm, Luna recommended a total of five books that, in her opinion, would prove most helpful in gaining a deeper understanding of this world.

The recommendations unfolded as follows:

   "Journey to the End" a captivating fairytale chronicling the exploits of a mage named Sei and his companions. Together, they engage in a timeless struggle against a demon, ultimately saving the world from an impending Armageddon—an epic tale of classic good versus evil.

   "Travel Journal," a comprehensive reference guide offering insights into the diverse countries of the world and their distinctive characteristics. Narrated by an adventurer whose name has faded with time, it serves as a captivating exploration into the various lands.

   "Legendary Beasts and Where to Find Them," a detailed account spotlighting the monstrous creatures inhabiting different regions. This guide not only cataloged their habitats but also provided invaluable insights on how to navigate encounters with them.

   "A Guidebook to Magic" a wizard's manual of attack spells, ranging from the Beginner to Advanced levels.

   "The Three Sword Rose," an exhilarating tale of action and adventure featuring three master swordsmen of distinct styles. Their journey unfolds as they venture into the depths of the titular labyrinth, forming a bond that transcends their differences.

   While two of these recommendations delved into the realms of fantasy, the other three proved to be valuable sources of study, with "A Guidebook to Magic" standing out as a particularly enticing exploration into a world I had yet to fully comprehend.

Took this book in my hands and started reading.

In this world, magic manifested in three distinct forms: Attack magic, employed for engaging in battles; Healing magic, dedicated to tending to the wounds of others; and Critical magic, a potent force capable of dealing substantial damage after a certain time passed. This succinct categorization encapsulated the essence of magical abilities. While it seemed that magic could have diverse applications, the textbook emphasized its origin and evolution in battle, relegating its usage primarily to combat scenarios or hunting pursuits. A crucial element for wielding magic was the possession of magical power—a resource universally known as Mana. This meant that anyone, regardless of their background or abilities, could harness the power of magic as long as they possessed an adequate reserve of Mana.

   Apparently, the art of magic had two distinct methods of execution: incantations and magic circles. The concept was straightforward enough—casting spells through spoken words or intricate patterns respectively. Historically, magic circles held sway as the primary conduit for magical power, but with the passage of time, incantations had become more prevalent. In the bygone era, even the briefest incantations demanded one or two minutes, making them impractical in the midst of a heated battle. However, once a magic circle was meticulously inscribed, its utility became far-reaching. Consider a scroll adorned with the magic circle for "light"—such an enchanted scroll could serve as an everlasting torch, offering illumination without limit.

   The widespread adoption of incantations gained traction when a pioneering magician successfully condensed their duration significantly. The most basic incantations, once laborious, were streamlined to a mere five seconds, emerging as the exclusive method for employing Attack magic. Alongside Attack magic, the concept of Critical magic came into play, operating akin to an XP bar. The mechanics were straightforward: the more time spent engaged in battles, the more monsters vanquished, the greater the XP accumulated. Over a designated period, the critical meter filled, allowing for a powerful strike capable of dealing substantial damage in a single shot. As your level advances, you acquire a unique attribute known as a Skill—an individually tailored critical strike infused with a specific ability, crafted to meet your precise requirements by the enigmatic "gods," as the book elucidated. For instance, if your combat style leaned towards agility, marked by swift strikes and an offensive approach, your Skill would seamlessly align with your preferences. Notably, these Skills weren't static; they could be elevated to unprecedented levels through dedicated leveling up, unlocking their potential to unimaginable heights.

   Indeed, leveling played a pivotal role in this system. Everyone has a level, ranging from Level 0 to Level 99. By defeating monsters and clearing dungeons, you earn XP. Once a certain amount is collected, it levels you up and raise your attributes. There are five distinct attributes: Strength, Defense, Utility, Agility, and Magic. XP is earned usually following the principle that the stronger the enemy, the more you get, or the harder the dungeon you clear, the more XP you receive. As you level up as an adventurer, these attributes increase by a set amount with each new level. Notably, individuals began their journey with distinct attributes, predetermined at birth—an intricate system reminiscent of genetic inheritance, wherein those born to magician parents inherited an innate proficiency in magic and so forth.

But like 99 were still far for me. What level I am anyway? I questioned myself.

   I released a sigh and turned the page, navigating straight to the beginner magic section. Temporarily, I resolved to dip my toes into the waters of the simplest magic available. From what I gathered, the complexity of a spell correlated with the length of the incantation, escalating to the point where a magic circle, typically reserved for advanced magical research, became essential. However, my focus remained on starting with the basics.

   The book noted that the most adept wizards could cast spells effortlessly, omitting incantations entirely or significantly shortening the chanting duration. The reasoning behind how training enabled individuals to bypass incantations wasn't entirely clear to me. Still, the correlation between using magic against monsters and the subsequent increase in mana seemed straightforward: more XP equated to more mana, allowing for increased magical usage and the potential for wielding larger, more potent spells in combat.

   "Well, anyway, whatever the case, I just need to give it a shot. Let's head outside before I inadvertently disrupt this exquisite library," I mused.

Outdoors, armed with "A Guidebook to Magic" in my left hand and pointing my right hand toward a petite rock, I embarked on the recitation of an incantation designed to make objects levitate:

   "Let the gentle feathers wrap you around, be weightless now, raise to the sky—ascend to the heavens —Volatus."

As I began, a peculiar sensation akin to blood pooling enveloped my right hand. It was as if this sensation had transcended through my palm, connecting me to the minuscule rock even though it wasn't within my grasp. Upon opening my eyes, I beheld the small rock suspended directly in front of me, hovering at waist height.

   "Gah!" I involuntarily exclaimed, startled by the uncanny feeling. A moment later, the rock descended and clattered onto the ground.

It became apparent that sustaining a spell demanded unwavering concentration. "Concentrate... Concentrate..."

   Once more, I sensed the blood welling in my hand. That's it. There we go. Yeah, this feels right. Again, I extended my right hand, summoning a mental image reminiscent of my previous attempt. Uncertain about the extent of my magical power, I acknowledged the need to ration it judiciously rather than utilizing it recklessly. My idea was to practice each spell separately until I got it right. I'd imagine it in my mind, go through the motions repeatedly, and try to make it happen in reality. If I made a mistake, I'd bring that image back to mind until I had it perfectly in my head. It's the same way I practiced combos in video games in my old life. Because of that, I hardly ever messed up a combo in an actual match. I hoped that meant my training approach would work well here too. I took a deep breath. My blood surged through my body, from my toes to the top of my head, gathering in my right hand, filling it with power. Then, I sensed that power manifesting just before my palm. Now, step by step, very, very cautiously, my thoughts synced with the rhythm of my heartbeat.

   "Rise, levitate, rise up—sort of like me down there when I saw Luna, eh?" Whoops, that kinda just slipped in there. Getting back to it, then...

I focused and committed myself:

"Volatus, Volatus, Volatus, Volatus."

"Hah!" I exclaimed in pure reflex as my hand shot out before me, fingers spread. In that instant, the rock right in front of me lifted up from the ground.

"Whoa, what?"

Bammm, in my moment of shock, the piece of rock dropped back on the ground.

   "Wait." I hadn't shouted a spell in full, had I? But then... why? All I had done was put myself into the same mental space as the last time I had tried the spell. Did the incantation not matter much when reproducing the flow of magical power?

   I pondered the apparent simplicity of casting spells. Could it really be this effortless to wield the full power of magic with just a few uttered words? Skepticism lingered in my mind as I decided to test my abilities with a new incantation—Fireball.

Focusing my thoughts on the forthcoming spell, I extended my hand and initiated the ritual. Inhaling deeply, I embraced the rhythm of my breath, endeavoring to recreate the magical flow I had sensed during my previous attempt with Floating. As I concentrated, a surge of mana enveloped me, coursing through every inch of my being. Drawing in another profound breath, I harnessed the power within, feeling warmth going through my blood and into my hand.

"FIREBALL," The words echoed in my mind.

Perplexed by the sudden success of my spellcasting, I found myself questioning the very nature of magic. "What just happened?" I asked myself in disbelief. Could wielding magic without the customary incantations truly be this effortless? I couldn't help but wonder if it was some advanced skill reserved for higher-level practitioners.

   Contemplating the seeming simplicity of the act, I voiced my thoughts aloud, pondering, "If it's that easy, what's the point of the incantation at all?" As a novice in magic, the notion of effortlessly performing a spell without uttering a single word left me both intrigued and bewildered. It appeared that I had harnessed the mystical energy within me by merely focusing my intent, bypassing the need for verbal commands.

   Reflecting on my newfound realization, I surmised that perhaps the incantation served as more of an activation trigger for the spell. Speaking the words aloud might act as a catalyst, instantly bringing the magical effect to life without the need for intense concentration on the energy coursing through one's body. It was a revelation that suggested anyone could replicate my recent success by tapping into the essence of magic in a different way. The mystery of incantations had taken on a new dimension, leaving me eager to explore the nuances of this enchanting world further.

   "Hmm, perhaps incantations act as triggers for spells, eliminating the need for intense concentration," I mused, considering the practicality of weaving magic in the chaos of battle. It seemed improbable to focus on the intricacies of blood flow and breath amidst the tumult of combat. I speculated that, in the vast expanse of the world beyond, people relied on incantations to cast spells effortlessly, freeing themselves from the demands of unwavering concentration.

   Indeed, the simplicity of casting spells through the recitation of words offered both clarity in explanation and ease of comprehension. This advantage was crucial, especially in the realm of attack magic, where swift and decisive actions were imperative in the heat of battle. Uttering an incantation proved to be a faster alternative to closing one's eyes and engaging in a contemplative hum while trying to harness magical energy.

   Moreover, the accessibility of incantations added to their appeal. In the midst of intense confrontations, it was far more practical to vocalize a chant than to undertake a series of intricate gestures. The spontaneity and directness of spoken words provided a distinct advantage, allowing spellcasters to unleash their magical prowess swiftly and efficiently when every second counted in battle.

Before I knew it, the weight of mana exhaustion overwhelmed me. I succumbed to the inevitable fatigue, collapsing beside the apple tree in the garden.