Programmer Reincarnation: Magic in This World Seems Like Programming
Time Flies
Time passes quickly.
That’s just how I perceive it, though—not because I’ve invented some magic to speed up time.
Why does it feel like time has flown by so fast? It’s probably because I’ve been stuck in an unchanging routine.
At the academy, everyone’s been consumed lately with figuring out how to make full use of the new-style magic I introduced.
Since these innovations have completely overhauled battle strategies and tactics, no one is in a position to “teach me” anything anymore.
Personally, I found it fun to learn troop movements and tactics from old Kurges—he had knowledge even I didn’t possess. But those days are gone.
Nowadays, my focus has shifted from creating things myself to managing my employees and letting them create.
Sometimes, I snoop around using the backdoors I built into the new magic I distributed, peeking at their spell structures. Occasionally, I come across someone who makes me go, “Oh, that’s impressive,” but 99% of them just churn out unremarkable destruction spells.
Ultimately, most of them are just aiming for a spell that can obliterate both humans and monsters in one action—a single, overwhelming strike. Ironically, the popular spells now are eerily similar to the first spell I ever created: Magic Arrow.
And because I’ve been using Magic Arrow from the very beginning—long before I started distributing my new-style magic—people have started saying, “He’s been using the most efficient spells from the start!” Thus, I’ve gained fame all over again.
But even so, it’s a game of cat and mouse. Counterspells emerge, then new attack spells are invented—it’s an endless cycle.
I keep monitoring developments through my backdoor access. Besides, the sheer amount of magical energy I can pack into a spell is leagues above what anyone else can manage. No one can rival me.
And if someone ever did, I’d just extract all their techniques, adapt them to my style, and surpass them. Simple.
Recently, I completed the final modifications to Ada.
I also applied an optimized self-transformation spell to myself, crafted based on my experience with Ada’s upgrades.
When the trigger is pulled, I will—
…Well, that doesn’t matter right now.
What matters is an upcoming major event.
At the academy, the third semester will be entirely devoted to it.
On the calendar, it spans from spring to early summer—a very, very long period.
It’s the National Magic Tournament.
…Of course, that’s just the public title. In reality, it’s a military exercise.
In a medieval-like world like this, large-scale joint military exercises with foreign countries are unheard of.
Even the idea of a magic academy gathering noble children is strange. While it’s common in light novels, in a non-centralized state like this, “gathering hostages from various countries” would never be allowed, even if initiated by the royal family.
But this country’s greatest strength is its cultivation of powerful mages. Gathering talented individuals in one place for advanced education is seen as the optimal solution—a special exception.
Outside this country, academies don’t even exist. Children are taught by tutors or learn basic literacy in churches.
For the same reasons, joint military exercises are even more unheard of.
The nobility in this country can’t even align internally. Coordinating with foreign countries? Impossible.
But this year, circumstances are different.
The instigator of this magic tournament/military exercise is the northern Adon Magic Nation.
Apparently, they plan to unveil something. Most likely the magic gun I glimpsed during that field trip. That device will revolutionize warfare.
And now, the irregularities begin.
The Kingdom of Biltoria has decided to participate in the exercise.
Their aim, of course, is to showcase the “new-style magic” I introduced and intimidate foreign nations.
This has prompted other nations to move.
The Dominium Empire, Biltoria’s rival, wants to show its strength to keep Biltoria in check.
The Binal Federation plans to unveil its own new technologies.
The Wave Mech Nation intends to showcase something akin to cannons.
Even smaller nations like the Regis Duchy and the Soz Church Nation, lacking the resources for new weaponry, are participating to gather intel and flaunt their heroes.
In short, it’s a highly unusual situation.
A nationwide joint military exercise, under the guise of a magic tournament, is about to begin.
“…So, why am I supposed to participate in this magic tournament?”
I asked the academy headmistress, Angeline.
“Normally, we’d send the student council president to these events.”
“Then send them.”
“Well, after you got last year’s president expelled, the position’s been vacant. No one wants the job—they’d have to keep you in check.”
…Oh?
Did something like that happen?
I tilted my head in confusion.
“You don’t remember?! It was Cladion!?”
Fran, listening in, tugged at my sleeve and whispered.
Cladion…?
Who’s that?
I don’t remember, but if I crushed them, there must’ve been a reason. I generally only ruin people as a hobby.
So essentially:
“I don’t keep track of where tissues go after I use them.”
“You’re the worst!”
…Anyway, my participation seems non-negotiable.
Wreaking havoc, humiliating rival participants, and watching foreign bigwigs squirm—there’s an appeal to that.
Even as a manager, I can’t justify taking time off lightly. But perhaps this is a good opportunity.
If my organization collapses just because I’m absent, it’s not worthy of me.
This could be a chance to teach my subordinates self-sufficiency and management skills through hands-on experience.
There will undoubtedly be times in the future when I’ll need to step away for extended periods. This timing is…opportune.
“All right. Let’s do this.”
