—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
In “Planetarium,” mana stats were crucial.
Even the strongest warrior had limits to their physical strength.
They needed mana enhancement to surpass those limits.
This was even more true for mages and priests, who used mana for formulae, healing, and other abilities.
However, mana was also a tricky resource.
Having a lot of mana wasn’t enough; you needed the corresponding control and refinement abilities to utilize it properly.
For example, let’s say a skill, A, required 100 mana.
Normally, if your total mana was 1000, you could just use the skill.
But in “Planetarium,” even if your total mana exceeded the skill’s requirement, you couldn’t use it if your Mana Control was below 100.
You’d have an abundance of energy but lack the control to utilize it.
So, what happened if your Mana Refinement was low compared to your total mana?
Mana recovery methods in this world were limited.
While a ‘White Light’ ally could replenish your mana, they also needed mana for their own skills, so it wasn’t a reliable solution.
Moreover, received ‘White Light’ mana, while harmless, differed from your own mana color, significantly reducing its output.
Therefore, you had to rely on your own recovery ability, which is where Mana Refinement came in.
Let’s look at the chart used during the mana measurement again:
Mana consumption per use for each formula rank:
Low-Rank: 1-9
Mid-Rank: 10-90
High-Rank: 100-900
Top-Rank: 1000+
Mana Capacity indicates the maximum amount, Mana Control the maximum amount controllable at once, and Mana Refinement the amount recovered per hour.
If your Mana Capacity was 100 and your Mana Refinement was High-Rank, there was no problem.
It would naturally recover to its maximum in about an hour.
But what if your Mana Capacity was 100 and your Mana Refinement was Low-Rank?
It would take at least 11 hours, and in the worst case, up to 100 hours to recover.
Thus, Mana Capacity, Mana Control, and Mana Refinement were all equally important, and “Planetarium” players struggled to find ways to enhance these three abilities.
I was no exception.
‘Mana Control can be improved through training. Mana Refinement can also be somewhat compensated for with high control. But Mana Capacity can’t be easily increased in a short period.’
Mana Capacity was an innate talent, the size of the vessel you were born with.
There were ways to increase it, but most were ineffective, took a long time to show results, and required rare materials.
These materials were highly sought after by nobles and royalty of each nation for themselves and their children.
Even the influential Midas family within the Sphero Kingdom struggled to acquire them, let alone for personal use, even for sale.
The reason I was able to increase my Mana Capacity so much was entirely due to my memories from my past life.
[Sharing a tip for increasing Mana Capacity. Eat figs from the Black Forest of the Grand Duchy of Nahart and silver roses, rarely found in the Gudrun region of the Sphero Kingdom, within 10 minutes of each other, and your Mana Capacity will increase by 1.]
[Is this a joke?]
[Nice try.]
[Uh, I happened to have both, so I tried it, and it actually worked (screenshot).]
[OMG]
A user’s post on the strategy board had caught the attention of players obsessed with increasing their stats, and from that day on, players started experimenting with all sorts of bizarre food combinations.
99.9% of them were meaningless failures or pranks to troll other players, but very rarely, effective combinations were discovered, and this information became invaluable.
‘Some combinations were difficult to acquire because even people in this world knew about them, but surprisingly, some were easy to get.’
It was unfair to criticize their lack of knowledge.
It was easy to say that eating certain ingredients together increased mana, but how were they supposed to know that eating the leaves of a plant that only grew in region A with the powdered skull of a beast from region B would have an effect?
It was the kind of madness only possible for players who could traverse continents with a few mouse clicks and repeat their lives countless times just to test these combinations.
If the Lord, that money-grubbing fiend, knew about this knowledge, he would have worked me to the bone, beyond my limits, to exploit it.
So, I discreetly mixed these ingredients into the “healthy meals” Regret and I ate.
And the results of two years of consistent effort were evident.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Chrom-nim, you said 100 mana was average and not bad, but…”
On the way back after class, I replied to Lotto, who was grumbling with a sullen face,
“I wasn’t lying. That’s the average. I never said I was average. And how long are you going to keep calling me ‘Chrom-nim’? Just call me Chrom.”
“But, that’s a bit…”
“So, you want to keep using formal language with a classmate for the next few years?”
“Hmm.”
While we were having this pointless conversation, I noticed Pino and Lavaul.
It seemed like those two were always together.
But then again, it was still the beginning of the semester, and their social circles were probably limited, so it was natural for them to stick with familiar faces.
Pino, noticing us, called out,
“Oh, Chrom. Can you help me convince this guy?”
“Wait, my sage, that’s…”
I asked,
“What’s going on?”
“The professor told him it wasn’t too late to switch to a different combat class, but he won’t listen.”
“…He told him to switch classes?”
Did this Academy even have such a system?
Lavaul scratched his gray, curly hair and said,
“I came here seeking the best education on the continent. But what’s the point if I can’t learn what I want?”
“But there’s such a thing as aptitude.”
“Effort never betrays those who try. Even if I’m lacking now, if I keep striving, I will surely succeed.”
Lavaul’s words didn’t seem wrong, so I said to Pino,
“If he’s this determined, is it really necessary to force him to switch classes? I mean, if his mana is low, martial combat would be more efficient than magic, but…”
Pino sighed.
“It’s not just that. He can’t ‘Imbue.’”
“What?”
I asked reflexively.
“You all took the medicine the professor gave us after class, right?”
Lotto answered Pino’s question,
“Yes. He said we need to take it consistently for six months to change our mixed mana to ‘Blue Light’…”
As Professor Neville had explained, ‘Imbuing’ wasn’t a simple process.
It required continuous intake of a special medicine developed by the Empire to gradually imbue the body’s mana with a single color.
Rushing the process could disrupt the body’s balance, leading to mana runaway or even death.
Moreover, simply taking the medicine wasn’t enough; the mana user had to assist the process with Mana Control, further increasing the difficulty.
And re-Imbuing with a different color after the initial Imbuing was even more arduous.
“Since he didn’t know how to control his mana, the professor tried to help him get started, and that’s when he realized the medicine wasn’t working. His natural constitution is optimized for maintaining mana close to ‘Red Light,’ so it automatically reverts back, even with external intervention.”
He couldn’t change his mana color to ‘Blue Light.’
His base mana attribute was close to ‘Red Light.’
And ‘Red Light,’ while highly efficient within the body, was extremely weak outside the body, making it a terrible match for ‘Magic,’ which required creating external ‘formulae.’
I thought,
“…Hmm, maybe you should consider a different class?”
While I was trying to be somewhat reasonable since this was reality, not a game, as someone who preferred efficient builds over meme builds, this situation was frustrating.
Despite our continued persuasion, Lavaul remained unmoved.
“No matter what you say, I want to learn magic.”
“Why?”
“Because it is the wisest path.”
“But even if it’s magic in its purest form, what we learn at this Academy, whether it’s combat, magic, or support, is ultimately about fighting… ”
Whether you cut with a sword, burn with fire, or shout, “I’ll heal you, so work, you slaves!” to make your allies fight for you.
I pondered.
It was his life, so I wanted to let him do as he pleased.
But I also needed to solidify my network based on the connections I made during the entrance exam to counter those from the Sphero Kingdom who held a grudge against the Midas family.
Weakening the group wasn’t beneficial in the long run.
Ah, I see.
Instead of agonizing over this alone, why not ask someone smart?
I immediately went to Fiore and explained the situation.
She listened, nodding with interest, and then spoke as if it was no big deal.
“Then, why not ask the best in that field?”
“You mean Professor Neville?”
He was the one who told Lavaul to quit in the first place, so I doubted it would work.
But Fiore smiled brightly and shook her head.
“No, Lyla.”
Uh, would that…
…really work?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
