[140] The Time-Space Maze (4)
Tess felt the power drain too, but without the slightest falter she reversed her motion and drove the blade home.
Distance control, maximum acceleration—everything was flawless. All eyes focused on the orb.
A number appeared. 442. It was the first time anyone had broken into the 400s.
What would the result be? Tess watched without showing a hint of feeling.
After a moment the number disappeared and the orb flushed red.
"Huh. No good. What a shame."
Tess turned away without hesitation. She understood why the others wanted another try, but following them would be undignified.
"Damn it! Is that thing really broken? I stabbed it with a sabre—how did it score less than a blunt weapon?"
The warrior bellowed. They lived by brute strength; losing to a woman might wound their pride, but Tess found the whole scene pathetic.
"You both failed anyway—what's the point in arguing? And raw strength and the skill to use it are completely different! Stop just lifting rocks and practice some technique!"
"What? You're insulting my strength? Can't you see these muscles? You got a problem?"
Tess looked away as if she'd seen something disgusting. Arguing subtlety with macho men felt like talking to cattle.
"Is the swordsmen's line done? Then it's my turn."
An archer drew his longbow from his back and stepped forward.
From the results so far, pure physical force didn't seem likely to earn a high score.
An arrow is a physical attack too, but the archer was confident. It cost money, which made him nervous, but if he didn't put on a show he'd be laughed at.
"Looks like you're going to use that."
As the mage had predicted, the archer pulled an arrow from his back and removed the tip. From a sturdy leather pouch at his hip he produced a uniquely shaped arrowhead.
The tip wasn't sharp; it was rounded like an almond and not iron-colored but violet.
"Hmm, nice. I'll use this then."
Amy's eyes lit up at the strange-colored arrowhead. That would certainly deliver a far stronger impact than a normal arrow.
"Shirone, look. It's a magic round."
"Huh? That thing?"
Shirone had heard of magic rounds in class. They were items made by infusing mana ore—which only occurs in minuscule amounts in nature—with magic.
The origin of mana ore was a mystery, but the prevailing theory was that it reacted chemically to specific natural phenomena.
For example, lightning ore could be harvested on dry plateaus frequently struck by thunder, or in tropical rainforests.
Those mined minerals showed an affinity for certain phenomena, and mage engineers used that property to store spells in mana ore.
Of course, that was still laboratory science, not a finished breakthrough.
To make mana ore practical required materials engineering to convert it into usable energy and mechanical engineering to consume that energy in various forms.
The entire chain of mining and industrial use of mana ore involved so many people and so much capital that it could be called an industry.
And one of the top sectors in that industry was magic rounds—lethal munitions.
"So that's the expensive magic round. How does it compare to the magic we use?"
"It's not that it's overwhelmingly powerful. The huge advantage is that non-mages can use magic. It's probably worth around one gold each. The round that fits into an arrowhead only weighs ten grams, but still."
Shirone stuck his tongue out. One gold for a single shot? How much money must have been spent in the histories that described three thousand archers firing magic rounds?
"That's amazing. I'd be too stingy to actually use one."
"We're mages—of course we think about cost. But in battle, magic rounds can decide life or death. When you're cornered and about to die, one shot could save you."
"I see. How do you know so much? They didn't teach that in class."
"I only learned recently. My big brother came home because of a contract to supply the archer unit with magic rounds. There's been suspected corruption in the supplier for a year, and no one knows where the money's leaking. I asked Neyde, and she knew everything—the process, the manufacturing tech."
"Neyde? When did you ask her?"
"You were out the day school was closed. I heard she made an invisibility cloak; that's huge tech. If it's Neyde, she could probably make magic rounds."
"What? She makes those expensive things herself?"
"What, you didn't know? Are you really that out of it?"
"Ha—well. Neyde always shows weird stuff. Like a wagon that never stops or dolls that do a dozen silly dances."
"True, having the tech isn't everything. It's a state-monopolized business; you'd be arrested for illegal weapons production without a license. Still, if you're bored later ask her to make one. If you ask, she probably will. The mana ore can be bought cheaply from the Alchemy Foundation."
While Shirone and Amy talked, the archer disengaged the magic round's safety.
Impact-reactive magic rounds must have their safeties on unless they're actually in a danger zone. If one went off from being struck by a cart, a leg could be blown clean off.
"Hey, I'm going to fire the magic round now. It's called Lightning Arrow. Step back—if you stand too close you might get hit."
Shirone's group moved as far back as the viewing area allowed. They'd expected Miro's Space-Time to absorb magic power, but caution never hurt.
When the archer drew the string tight, even the air seemed to tense. With a twang and a release, the arrow whistled and struck the orb with a thin, flute-like note.
The magic round reacted and sent a powerful bolt of lightning outward.
But the blue electricity only appeared inside the orb. As expected, it seemed to be sucking in magic power.
The orb flashed for about three seconds and then calmed. People waited for the number, thinking the round might be worth it.
1,020.
A four-digit score made the archer's mouth curl in satisfaction.
Still, the result was a failure. Even scoring over a thousand didn't yield a pass, so thinking of his money wasted, he stepped down from the platform.
"Tch! What a waste of money."
"You can't really say that. You look unharmed—are you okay?"
At Amy's question the archer checked himself. Swordsmen had repeatedly shown their legs losing strength, but this time he felt fine.
"Huh? You're right. It didn't even steal the archer's musculature. Looks like Miro's Space-Time only measures impact damage."
"That's useful information. What will you do—try again?"
The archer stared at the orb. At least he'd hit his personal best, so he didn't feel terrible. But he wasn't going to throw more money away.
"No. Any attribute would probably be similar, and I don't think this will get me a pass. Just feels like a waste of a magic round."
Amy agreed readily.
"Then is it the mages' turn? Shirone, who should go first—you or me?"
A mercenary mage sneered and pointed at Amy.
"You should go. Then I'll go next and we'll see who's stronger."
Amy accepted the challenge without hesitation. She still had some score to settle with that woman.
"Fine. Shirone, I'll go first?"
"Yeah. Show us what you've got. Go for it!"
Shirone thought Amy had a real chance. Her specialty was offensive magic—fire—and she emphasized high single-strike power and targeted spells.
Magic comes in countless varieties and fashions change, but fire has always ranked among the most potent offensive elements.
Amy was careful, though. Standing on the platform she calculated which spell to use.
This is trickier than I thought. Too close for Sniper Mode. Should I just go with a target-type attack? But that would reduce power.
Unlike ice, which has an absolute temperature cap, fire has no upper limit.
Many mages choose fire for that infinite potential, but even skilled mages struggle to break past the thousand-degree barrier.
Still, fire is strong because most things on the planet can be dominated at around a thousand degrees—living creatures, trees, and most metals except iron will burn or melt at that heat.
But no element is perfect; fire's weakness is its lightness.
Its total energy can be huge, but it lacks weight. So fire is often combined with air to increase impact—Flame Strike is a typical example.
But Flame Strike's power multiplies with distance. At this range, it might be better to focus purely on fire.
Since Miro's Space-Time measures magical power as well as impact, betting on a pure spell that raises temperature could work.
Amy made her choice.
Fireball.
Two flames rose in the palms of her hands. They should have been spheres, but the nature of fire made them shoot upward like molten droplets.
The difference between conjured fire and ordinary fire is density. Fire mages control density to raise temperature; as temperature rises, the flame's reach can also expand.
Amy flicked only her wrists from the stance that held the flames. A scarlet fireball, trailing like molten lava, streaked forward.
The orb swallowed the blaze. A tremendous vortex of fire spun relentlessly inside the sphere.
When the score appeared, the crowd gasped.
3,270.
It was the best record so far. Given the results to date, it seemed unlikely anyone would top that.
The archer realized Shirone's group weren't ordinary students. The Lightning Arrow enhanced by a magic round had scored 1,020; a basic Fireball scoring more than three times that meant the magical level itself was different.
But Amy scowled deeply. The orb flared a fierce red light as if to say this wouldn't nearly be enough.
"What?! What do you expect me to do?!"
She hadn't expected to fail, and the frustration made her furious.
"Hohoho! Novice behavior. Is it my turn now?"
"Wait! I'll try Sniper Mode. I'll see exactly what it wants and finish this today."
Shirone walked to the platform with an awkward smile. Amy's competitive streak was such that she wouldn't come down unless someone stopped her.
"Calm down first. If you get angry and lose focus your score will drop."
"Ugh, really! Shirone, I'm definitely going again. Got it?"
The mage on the platform looked back at Amy and said, "Funny enough, we're the same element. I'm a fire mage too. I'll try a Fireball to match your level."
Hah, ridiculous. You're thinking the exact same thing I was.
Amy snorted. A failed contestant usually kept quiet; even replying annoyed her.