Chapter 04: “The ‘Void’ of the Old Sage Zeno”
A few days after the coal-covered training room incident.
My—Louis Adel’s—academy life was rising vertically toward “ruin (heroization)” at an angle far exceeding the arithmetic prediction curve (trend line).
When I went to school‚ people would whisper‚ “Look‚ that’s ‘Optimization’ Louis‚” and when I went to the cafeteria‚ Leon would loudly declare‚ “My neighbor is the seat of the true hero!” and sanctify the area within a two-meter radius of me.
And on my right sleeve‚ as usual‚ the duke’s daughter Serina was clinging to me with a degree of closeness that defied physical laws.
“Louis-kun‚ did you know? The ‘eccentric cleaning-hater’ who lives on the top floor of the North Tower wants to meet you.”
In the hallway after school.
What Serina told me with her supreme smile was equivalent to a death sentence for me.
“...Serina. That ‘cleaning-hater’ isn’t the academy’s highest authority‚ ‘Seventh Sage Zeno‚’ is it?”
“Oh my‚ how perceptive. As expected of Louis-kun‚ your information organization is quick too.”
Serina’s smile today is also specialized in destroying my “escape routes.”
Seventh Sage. If I get involved with a living fossil like the one in history textbooks‚ my perfect life blueprint—“Graduate as the lowest-ranked qualifier like air and return to the back door of the inn to wash dishes”—will be physically burned away.
（...I want to go home. Legendary sages are the category of people I should avoid the most. Right now‚ I want to arithmetically forge a medical certificate saying “abdominal pain requiring a 10‚000-year absence.”）
I tried to turn on my heels.
However‚ my retreat was already blocked by “Walking Sense of Justice” Leon standing imposingly.
“Louis! For the legendary sage to call you by name... As expected‚ your hidden power has been seen through! As your friend‚ I’m proud too!”
Leon’s passionate gaze and thick arms fix my back‚ which is trying to escape‚ with the sharpness and weight of a holy sword.
“N-no‚ Leon-kun. This is surely a mistake‚ and I’m just like a misdelivered package...”
“Don’t be humble! Now‚ it’s the moment history moves!”
In the end‚ I was firmly sandwiched on both sides by the two geniuses‚ and with footsteps like a criminal heading to the execution platform‚ I began climbing the long‚ long spiral staircase of the North Tower.
With each step up‚ the frequency of my footsteps was playing a minor chord due to despair.
The top floor of the North Tower‚ the “Unopenable Archive.”
The heavy door opens with a creaking‚ rusty scream.
At that moment—what attacked me was not the legendary sense of intimidation...
But an overwhelming‚ violent “dust” wall that seemed to have accumulated for three hundred years.
“Cough‚ cough! W-what is this!? There’s a limit to the lack of hygiene concepts...!”
Reflexively‚ I cover my mouth with my uniform sleeve.
As the son of an inn‚ this environment is physiologically unacceptable. The house dust concentration is lethal level. This is already an “arithmetic crime.”
The floor is gray‚ the shelves are gray‚ even the air is gray. The evening sun shining through the window illuminates the countless dancing dust particles sparklingly‚ but rather than beautiful‚ it’s “the visualization of respiratory distress.”
At this point‚ the dust is the protagonist‚ and the sage is the background.
“...Noisy. The sound of the wind is disturbed.”
In the depths of the archive. The old man was sitting as if buried in a pile of crumbling magic books.
His messy white hair was like a bird’s nest‚ and his robe was full of patches.
The legendary Seventh Sage Zeno Grafar—.
But no matter how I corrected my eyes‚ he only looked like “a stubborn old man who skipped cleaning too much and got moldy.”
“Zeno-sensei. Thank you for inviting us. This is my... no‚ my ‘destiny’ heading to the throne‚ Louis Adel.”
Serina pinched the hem of her skirt and presented me with excessive elegance.
Behind that smile was‚
“If you don’t praise Louis‚ I’ll optimize (delete) this entire tower and turn it into vacant land for you.”
An absolute zero cold light dwelled. Scary. This duke’s daughter is fully intent on picking a fight with the sage.
Zeno stopped turning the page with his ancient-tree-like fingers and slowly turned his cloudy eyes toward me.
“Magic power index 0.2‚ huh. ...Hmph. I see‚ that’s why the academy’s measuring device screamed.”
I flinched my shoulders.
Seen through? No‚ just astonished?
“U-um‚ it’s a malfunction after all‚ right? Actually around 0.002‚ and I think withdrawing from school immediately to wash dishes at the family inn would be stable in terms of the world’s energy conservation law too.”
Seeing me desperately explain‚ Zeno grinned with his toothless mouth.
“Brat. What do you think magic is?”
A sudden question.
I instantly rack my brain. Model answer? No‚ I feel lies won’t work on this old man.
“...An inefficient energy conversion task‚ perhaps. Like the oil stains clogging the inn’s drain pipes‚ if you understand the structure‚ it should be doable more cheaply.”
At that moment.
A sharp‚ blade-like intelligence dwelled in Zeno’s eyes for an instant.
The outline of the dust-covered good old man distorted‚ and the face of the “legend” that rules the world peeked out.
“Magic is structure‚ and it is poetry. ...Interesting.”
Zeno tapped his staff on the floor with a ton.
Just that‚ and the dancing dust suddenly stopped.
“You‚ try ‘filling’ this room. Without using magic power.”
It was an overly sudden and abstract trial from the sage.
“Fill this vast archive without using magic power...?”
Leon crossed his arms and stared at the wall (which seemed to be a substitute for a blackboard) with a serious face.
“Physically carrying in objects? No‚ there’s not enough time. Then... courageously shout‚ and with the roar of the soul‚ shake the air and fill the space with ‘enthusiasm’!?”
（Leon‚ that would just be a neighborhood nuisance. Also‚ the definition of “filling” is too spiritual.）
On the other hand‚ Serina was hiding her mouth with a fan‚ exuding a dangerous composure.
“It would be easy for Louis-kun. ...If necessary‚ I can annihilate all matter outside this tower and relatively make this room a ‘world filled only with Louis-kun’ for you?”
（Wait‚ Serina. That would make me the only survivor. Zero inn guests = business bankruptcy. Also‚ the cost of world destruction is too light.）
I sighed and looked around the archive.
Dust‚ messy books‚ and a single ray of evening sun from the window.
Zeno’s request is to “fill.” It doesn’t have to be mass.
（I just need to fill it‚ right? Arithmetically‚ the method with the lowest cost and covering the widest area is...）
My field of vision was covered with pale blue grid lines (auxiliary lines).
Room volume‚ dust density‚ light source position. All phenomena are replaced with “numerical values.”
In the corner of the room‚ there was a soot-covered small “lamp.”
I picked it up and calculated the remaining amount of old oil that Zeno probably left unfinished.
“Serina‚ can you take off that ‘sweet-tooth natural young lady’ mask for a bit and give me some heat at your fingertips? Just 0.003 seconds is fine. The coordinates are here.”
“Yes‚ if it’s Louis-kun’s request‚ gladly (heart).”
Serina held her fingertips over the lamp.
A small‚ really small fire lit. A bean-sized unreliable light.
But this is enough.
I adjusted the lamp’s wick by just 0.3 millimeters and optimized the angles of the mirror-like metal plates scattered around.
Furthermore‚ the “dust” filling the room—these aren’t obstacles. They are “countless prisms” for diffusing light.
Calculation complete.
I shifted the metal plates in units of comma millimeters.
Instantly—.
The dimly lit archive‚ where dusk was approaching‚ was painted over with explosive “gold.”
The lamp’s faint light reflected off the metal plates at calculated angles‚ amplified‚ and further diffused (diffusion) randomly on each particle of dust in the air.
Light particles spread to every corner of the room‚ erasing all shadows.
The haphazardly piled books‚ the dirty floor‚ everything was shining in a divine golden color.
“...It’s filled. With light.”
Zeno looked at his own dirty robe illuminated by the light‚ and then burst out laughing from the bottom of his belly.
“Kakaka! You geometrically arranged photons and maximized reflection efficiency! Without using magic power‚ you poked a hole in the world’s principles (system)!”
The old man stood up and approached me.
With each step‚ it seemed as if the dust on the floor was avoiding him.
“Inn brat. What you call ‘cheap’ is close to God’s work. ...Now‚ as a reward‚ I’ll tell you the true identity of your ‘0.2’.”
Zeno beckoned me from the center of the archive filled with golden light.
The gesture was gentle‚ but there was an overwhelming pressure behind it as if the “structure of the world” was shaking.
I stepped back one step due to instinctive fear.
“No‚ it’s fine. The true identity or whatever. I’m just a dishwashing staff who’s a bit good at calculations. If more flags are raised‚ the bread at home will burn.”
“Listen.”
A short‚ heavy word.
My feet stopped moving as if sewn to the floor.
“Your magic power index being 0.2 is—not because your magic power is low.”
The old sage’s voice shook the archive’s air sharply.
“The ‘vessel’ called the measuring device couldn’t measure your magic power‚ and only the overflowing residue was displayed as the fraction ‘0.2.’ ...Your vessel is similar to ‘void (kuu).’”
“...Void?”
Leon swallowed his breath. “Meaning... there’s no limit...?”
“Exactly. Infinity means having no vessel. That’s why it can’t be measured with existing equations. You optimize the world through arithmetic‚ but that is equivalent to ‘rewriting’ the world itself.”
Infinity.
The moment I heard that word‚ an alarm rang in my brain‚ and my thoughts overflowed.
（Infinity...? That means‚ in inn terms‚ “infinite customers coming”?）
I imagined it.
An endless lunch time. Plates with oil stains being brought one after another‚ no matter how much I wash: plates‚ plates‚ plates.
The tower of piled plates pierces the sky‚ and even if I turn to white bones‚ I continue gripping the sponge.
（Not just a black company. I have to wash dishes until I die... no‚ even after death? Infinite dishwashing loop... that’s already a curse...!）
Aside from me turning pale‚ Serina’s eyes were wet with maddening joy.
“Void (kuu)... Ah‚ as expected. My Louis-kun is an existence that can make even the laws (rules) of this world kneel.”
Serina rubs her cheek against my arm. Her body temperature is hot. Too hot.
“Hey Louis. I don’t need an inn anymore. If there’s no vessel‚ I’ll become a ‘world’ just for you.”
（Serina‚ that love’s weight has already exceeded my capacity and entered infinity! My mental vessel is only about a mug! It’s going to burst!）
I held my head.
The moment I lost the “lowest-ranked shield” of magic power 0.2‚ my retreat path to peace was completely erased by the sage’s words‚ which were like carpet bombing.
“...Take this. It has a ‘poem’ written that only you can read.”
What Zeno took out from his bosom and pressed on me was an old book.
Nothing was written on the cover. Even when I turned the pages‚ there wasn’t a single character.
It was pure white.
“Zeno-san... Is this a defective book? Non-returnable?”
“Kaka‚ even if you throw it away‚ it will just return to your shadow.”
Later called the ‘Imaginary Magic Book‚’ a forbidden legacy that would rewrite the boundaries of the era.
But to the current me‚ it only looked like a “cursed blank notebook.”
“...If the wind stops‚ you will die‚ arithmetic boy.”
On the way back‚ Zeno’s low voice pierced my back.
“If you want to stop‚ you have no choice but to stop the world.”
When I turned around‚ there was no one there anymore.
Just the dust-covered archive quietly settling in the golden afterglow.
――And on the way home.
While walking through the academy’s corridor illuminated by the evening sun‚ I was staring at the pure white magic book I held.
It was heavy. More than its physical weight‚ this book seemed packed with mass called “fate.”
（...Since it’s blank‚ does it mean “write” for me? No no no‚ I’m the son of an inn‚ not the editor of the world.）
Next to me‚ Leon was clenching his fist with a sun-like smile.
“I’ve engraved Zeno-sensei’s words in my heart! I’ll also train to aim for the void (kuu)! To walk with you!”
（Leon‚ I don’t want to be void‚ I want to live with my head “empty”...）
On the opposite side‚ Serina was naturally entwining my arm and peeking into the magic book.
“Louis-kun‚ can I write my name in that book too? As co-author. ...Hey‚ can the commemorative first page be a ‘marriage contract’?”
（Serina‚ writing a marriage contract in the imaginary magic book is out legally in the world law!? It’s the kind that you can’t escape at the conceptual level!）
While internally tsukkomi-ing with all my might‚ I still couldn’t stop my steps.
Because—.
The shadow stretching at my feet already had the “weight of a hero” stuck to it that couldn’t be wiped away.
Moreover‚ I have a bad premonition.
My skin is sensing subtle magic fluctuations in the air.
No need to calculate arithmetically.
My daily life was about to be exposed to a storm called the “Royal Palace Investigation Team.”
Behind the after-school silence‚ I feel like I can hear someone coldly inputting data.
My “bubbles of self-esteem” are popping and disappearing one by one silently.
Tomorrow‚ my peace will die.
With a probability of 99.99%.
（Chapter 4 End）
|