“Agh!”
Thud! Thud!
Veronica unnecessarily stomped down on the barren stone ground of the wasteland.
Even while using Over Craft, the lines refused to draw the way she wanted.
“This is so frustrating I could die.”
“Hmm, strange. The reproduction rate is definitely increasing, though.......”
After his advice, Veronica had truly trained like a madwoman.
He had witnessed that effort and obsession closer than anyone else, to the point that even he was sick of it.
‘It’s increasing way too little at a time. The speed is slow.’
Moreover, Veronica’s Over Craft was quite different from the Magiro’s he remembered.
How should he put it—there wasn’t that cold, merciless feeling of cornering the opponent.
‘Magiro’s magic is like a sharp blade. Cold, calculated, and precise. A machine-like bastard who never makes even the slightest mistake.’
In reality, from the moment the bastard started moving to the moment he stopped, he calculated everything.
On the other hand, Veronica was far more instinctive.
‘Let’s analyze the cause.’
From that day onward, Oscar observed every single action Veronica took for two days.
Quite literally, he did not take his eyes off her for even a single second out of twenty-four hours.
“......This is kind of burdensome.”
“Ah, don’t mind it. I’m simply trying to identify the cause.”
“I’m the one who’s not okay with it! It’s bothering me!”
Veronica shouted before roughly scratching her head.
“So, did you figure anything out?”
“Mmm. I think I have one guess.”
“What? Really!? What is it!”
“First of all, Veronica, you definitely seem to use your head a little less.”
“......You’re picking a fight right now, aren’t you?”
“No, that’s not it. I mean your raw instincts and senses are much more alive.”
Oscar calmed the growling Veronica and looked around.
Then he picked up a small stone and—scrrch!—used mana to slice it in half.
“Alright, from now on, let’s think of this stone as Magiro Wilson’s Over Craft.”
When he slowly pressed the two halves together, the joint fit perfectly, as though they had been made for each other from the very beginning.
“His magic is known for fitting together exactly like this, from one to ten.”
“......Just looking at it makes me feel suffocated. Then what about me?”
“Yours is more like this.”
Tap.
Oscar rotated the stone in the opposite direction.
The two pieces still touched, but the contact area was extremely narrow, so unstable that they looked ready to fall apart at any moment.
“You’re stacking your spell formulas through instinctive senses rather than calculations. The moment the flow starts to feel off, you notice it like a ghost and adjust that part. More than connecting them together, it feels like you’re trying to prevent them from breaking apart.”
“That just means the depth of my Over Craft is pathetic.”
Oscar stroked his chin.
‘Normally, that would be the correct way to think about it.’
He already knew what perfect Over Craft looked like.
The Over Craft used by the very person who had established the theory.
‘But the reproduction rate itself keeps increasing.’
Which meant the direction she was currently heading in was not wrong.
Once Oscar reached that conclusion, he opened his mouth.
“I think I get it.”
“What?”
“How to clear this theme.”
Oscar’s eyes gleamed as he beckoned her over.
It happened to be mealtime anyway, so Veronica trudged over toward him.
“Here, listen while eating dessert. I’ll tell you an interesting story.”
Oscar spoke while eating his portion of cake.
Magiro Wilson, the founder of Over Craft, was a genius.
More precisely, a genius theoretical mage.
“Hmm?”
Veronica, who had been drinking water, wiped her mouth and interrupted him.
“He was a theoretical mage? That’s the first I’ve heard of that.”
“You probably wouldn’t have. It’s not a well-known story.”
“Hard to believe. What’s your source?”
“The elf I met when I visited the Great Forest before. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t know them.”
Oscar answered shamelessly without batting an eye and continued.
“Anyway, Magiro Wilson was originally someone who only researched magic inside his room. Apparently he stayed indoors so much that his skin was absurdly pale. That’s probably why he got the nickname White Reaper.”
“So why are you suddenly telling me all this?”
“Fundamentally, Over Craft—the spell construction method that surpasses limits—is a theory devised by a shut-in nerd who had never experienced real combat even once.”
A theory created on a whim by an absurdly talented genius thinking, ‘This seems like it’ll work?’
“To get straight to the point, Over Craft was a failed theory.”
“......What do you mean by that?”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed.
She had been using it perfectly fine just moments ago, and now he was suddenly calling it a failed theory?
And the one who had taught it to her in the first place was Oscar himself.
“Mmm, to explain it simply, let’s say Fran suddenly established and created an Introduction to Lord of Wind Studies tomorrow. Do you think that theory would receive explosive attention from the magical academic world and become mainstream?”
“As if.”
Veronica scoffed.
It wasn’t because she was mocking Fran, who wasn’t even present.
“To begin with, not every mage possesses a special ability system like Lord of Wind. No one would care just because he published some theory about it.”
“Exactly. And Over Craft was rejected by academia for precisely the same reason.”
Snap, snap!
Oscar lightly flicked his fingers three times.
“Because not every mage could perform ultra-high-speed chanting like Magiro Wilson.”
“......Huh?”
Veronica tilted her head slightly as she listened.
“Ultra-high-speed chanting may be rare, but it’s not talent on the level of Lord of Wind.”
“Right. But as you know, ultra-high-speed chanting is only one of the requirements.”
Just because someone could chant at ultra-high speed did not mean any random person could use Over Craft.
“Precise output control, the ability to maintain multiple spell formulas, eyes that can see through the structure of magic, and even the sense to dismantle spell formulas. Frankly speaking, Over Craft demands an extremely high number of stats.”
And Veronica Fricks fulfilled every single one of those conditions.
From the first moment he saw her, her future had seemed promising enough for him to personally take interest in guiding her.
“......There’s no reason for you to suddenly butter me up, so what’s the conclusion?”
“Over Craft was rejected by academia, and because of that, Magiro Wilson abandoned the idea of making the theory universally usable for the masses early on.”
Instead, he dug in the complete opposite direction.
Since nobody acknowledged him anyway, he deliberately developed it into an extremely personal theory made solely for himself.
“So, after hearing all that, what comes to mind?”
“The condition of the theme was to create the same result. And you also guessed it was evaluating not just the result, but the process too.”
Putting everything together led to only one answer.
“......Just like Magiro Wilson did. I need to complete an Over Craft suited only for me and create the same result as that thing, right?”
“You’d better pray that’s the correct answer.”
Oscar smiled brightly.
“Otherwise we might end up living here forever.”
“I’d rather not spend the rest of my life with you on this gloomy land.”
Veronica stuffed dessert into her mouth and nodded.
“But I think I get the general idea. In other words, I don’t really need to care about the things you taught me anymore, right?”
“Yeah.”
What he had taught her was ‘Magiro Wilson’s’ Over Craft.
The battlefield reaper who constructed the entire board himself from beginning to end and toyed with opponents on the battlefield.
‘But that definitely doesn’t suit Veronica’s style.’
Oscar said nothing more after that.
He did not want to interrupt Veronica, who had closed her eyes and fallen into deep concentration.
For over forty hours, she remained seated without moving even once.
Then suddenly, she sprang to her feet, staggered toward the canyon, and looked up at the wall.
Thirty lines, countless traces embedded within them.
The very sensations she had desperately tried to imitate over the past two months.
“Hah.”
Up until now, she had only tried to imitate the correct answer.
Cold, precise, flawlessly interlocking spell construction.
No matter how she thought about it, those clothes did not suit her.
“......You know, I’ve always found pants more comfortable than skirts.”
The corners of Veronica’s lips twisted upward.
Every time she used Over Craft, it had felt like forcing her body into clothes that didn’t fit, making her feel suffocated.
‘So it’s finally time to free myself from that frustration?’
She was curious too.
Just how free would it feel to stack magic according to her own heart and feelings?
“First line. Depth 4.12 meters...... no, forget even that.”
Since when had she ever bothered to analyze and worry about every little detail like that?
Veronica simply glanced over the thirty lines roughly by eye.
Wind bloomed from her fingertips.
Unlike before, she did not forcibly compress it, nor did she forcefully align it.
‘Just however my heart wants.’
One spell formula, then another.
She did not try to seize and control the layers of magic rapidly stacking on top of each other.
As a result, the magic looked unstable at first glance, dangerous, as though it might collapse at any second.
‘Even like this, it’s not breaking apart.’
For some strange reason, she felt certain it would not break apart.
At that moment, Veronica’s eyes changed.
Kwoooooosh!
At the same time, a single stream of wind raced through the canyon.
The wind that shot out in an instant cleanly scraped through the canyon before abruptly changing direction.
‘Keep going like this.’
She abandoned the idea of making thirty winds as mechanically precise as possible.
It wouldn’t work no matter how hard she tried anyway.
‘Let’s just keep pushing a single one all the way through.’
Of course, there were no perfect calculations or meticulous control within it.
There was only instinctive sense.
The instant the massive wind form became even slightly disordered—
‘Now.’
Veronica instinctively used Over Craft to reinforce the wind.
The wind scraping along the canyon wall became a third, a fourth.......
The more chaotic it became and the longer it persisted, the more the burden skyrocketed.
Drip, drip.
Blood poured from Veronica’s nose.
Yet she did not even blink, continuing to stare solely at the canyon wall.
‘Don’t stop. Keep creating.’
Whenever the massive wind became even slightly unstable, dozens of spells layered themselves over it to maintain its form.
Even then, she did not try to forcibly control the wind itself.
If it shook, then let it shake. If it was rough, then let it be rough.
‘Just like myself.’
Kugugugugugu!
The twisting wind stormed through the wall, scraping across it thirty times in an instant.
Watching from afar, Oscar’s pupils trembled faintly.
It was definitely different from before.
It looked like an enraged storm dragon rampaging forward.
‘But.’
The traces left on the canyon wall themselves were completely different from the ones on the opposite side.
No matter how hard one stared, they could never be considered the same result.
And yet despite that—
Sssssk.
[Reproduction Rate 100%]
The dungeon’s theme acknowledged those traces.

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