Chapter 22

Chapter 22

In the past, I’d always just laugh it off whenever I heard anything that bothered me. I believed that being nice to everyone was the right way to live. But I’d died once already and I wasn’t of that opinion anymore—good things did not come to those who waited. If you waited too long, you’d only end up constipated.

“That’s too bad,” I replied, glaring at him. The man looked triumphant for a moment as if this was exactly what he’d been expecting me to say, but my next words caused his whole body to go stiff. “You call yourself a librarian, and yet you are so narrow-minded. I’m starting to think that my father has given a pig-headed, bigot responsibility that is too heavy for him to bear.”

“P-pig-headed? Now see here,” the man stammered. He seemed to be taken aback by my snippy retort.

“You sound as though you are proud that this library has such a narrow selection of books. If that doesn’t mark you as narrow-minded, I don’t know what does.”

“There are plenty of great books here. What is the need to house third-rate novels on our shelves?”

“You call them third-rate. Have you ever read one?” I asked.

“I don’t need to read them to know!”

“And it doesn’t strike you as bigoted at all that you would brush off someone’s creative work without even reading the contents? In fact, you go so far as to refuse to admit that your behavior is wrong at all. What does that tell you about yourself?” I continued to drive the point home that he was narrow-minded, hurting his pride. Before he could come up with a suitable comeback, I reached toward the book ledger on the desk. “You obviously manage the books here very poorly and yet you were offering to find me what I need.”

I’d worked part-time at a library during my school breaks and the cataloging system in this library left much to be desired. Most likely because books were rarer and much fewer than in the modern age, the systems for managing them didn’t seem to be very sophisticated.

“What book are you looking for? If it’s of a proper standard, I will find it for you right away.” He was refusing to admit that he’d misspoken.

I wondered if House Seymour really employed such lackluster vassals. He was pissing me off. “I’m looking for a book with class three area spell formulas. Are you a capable enough librarian that you can locate it instantly?”

He hesitated. Perhaps he hadn’t thought I’d have such a specific book in mind. From what I’d gathered about the cataloging system, he could probably guide me to the general area where books on magical formulas were stored, but it probably wouldn’t be easy to find a three-circle book without some looking around. In this world, there was no computer he could use to search for the correct book, after all.

“If you waste even a moment of my time... I’m sure you’ve heard enough about my personality to know what will happen next.” I ran my thumb across my throat in a clear threat.

The librarian finally seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and started bowing profusely in apology. I had no intention of letting him off easily, however.

Perhaps the servants have taken me for a fool thus far. Even if he was the son of a powerful vassal, he had dared to disrespect me to my face. I committed his name and face to memory and climbed up to the second floor.

Hmm... As the librarian had said, the library mostly consisted of magic tomes. I scanned the shelves carefully and before long was able to locate a book about mana formulas—Introduction to Mana Equations.

Huh? It’s so thick. I don’t even want to open it. Why was I still not free from having to study, even after being essentially born again? And despite being born with a diamond spoon, I still need to make money somehow. Feeling a little put-out, I forced myself to open the book.

“In loving memory of Danae.”

Who is Danae? I thought, puzzled. I flipped to the first chapter.

“My companion, Likurgos, and I oppose the claim that the flow of mana is irregular and fragmented.

Mana is as cool as a river, light as the wind, and firm as the ground underneath our feet. Not only is it highly complex, it is on a wholly new level of complexity. There are many indicators that show the regularity of its nature, and all of them exist for practical purposes regarding which...”

I flipped through the pages, biting my lip softly. “It’s so long...”

The preface, which was twenty pages long, was a detailed account of who had created mana formulas and when. Formulas had really begun to gain traction far before the Asteia Empire had formed, in the time of the ancient empire of Tegea. An archmage, who had reached a level of mastery far beyond that of the ancient mages, had organized information about mana found in nature into predictable rules so magic could be used more practically.

Finally. Putting the theory tome aside, I searched for a book about three-circle equations and smiled triumphantly to myself. I’d answered the professor’s problem correctly. But that’s pretty wild. Area spells use geometric progression formulas?

In this world, geometric progressions were a method of mana manipulation that increased the area of effect of magical spells. If this were a game, the spells would be wide-ranging spells that could kill several monsters at once with a single blast. But even without knowledge of such things, it was a simple matter for me, an engineering student, to find the patterns among the numbers.

This is getting more and more intriguing. The spell required to shape mana into a sphere used the same formula I would use to find the circumference of a circle. So that’s why the mages reminded me of engineering students from my world.

I skimmed through the book, amused that the formulas were very similar to math in my world. Noticing something strange, however, I furrowed my brow. There was no basic formula for finding the sum of a geometric progression.

Why is there no formula for that in the book? Wondering if there was an appendix at the back, I looked through the rest of the book. My head shot up when I heard footsteps approaching. I glimpsed a small, silver-haired figure moving through the bookcases. It was Henrique Seymour, the family’s youngest son.

The sunlight pouring in through the large windows fell softly on his plump, rosy cheeks. Eying the downy hair hovering over his ears and cheeks, I was forced to clamp a hand over my mouth. Oh my goodness. He is so cute. The bangs make him even cuter.

If Henrique had appeared on a family-centered variety show, his prim charm would have earned him a bazillion ads. If they included photo cards of this boy in any product, it would sell like hotcakes. And I would be the most enthusiastic customer.

Henrique looked around with huge eyes, chewing his tiny lips with a serious look on his face. He began to jump up and down, trying to reach something high up on one of the shelves. I guessed a book he wanted was out of reach.

Oh. I feel dizzy. This was much too cute for me to handle. To be perfectly honest, I was even more vulnerable to cute creatures than I was to handsome men. In particular, dogs, cats, and children could completely immobilize me in a heartbeat. The street cats in my neighborhood had flocked to me whenever I came by—I suppose even the animals knew that I was a softie.

I want to help him. I’d resolved to be pitiless only minutes ago. But he’s so cute. His silver hair fluttered with each jump. I put a hand to my forehead. While I suffered through my terrible internal dilemma, Henrique whimpered as he managed to hook one tiny finger over the spine of the book he wanted.

Well done, Henrique. You can do it. But too many books had been crammed onto the shelf, and Henrique’s efforts failed to even make it budge. His silver eyelashes were downturned with disappointment, as were his tiny, round shoulders.

All right, I lose. I can’t take this anymore. I’d reached my limit. In fact, his youthful charm was like a force of nature—utterly irresistible. I’d have to be a pretty evil person to not help such an adorable child.

“Here.” I approached him as he was busy jumping, pulling out the book and handing it to him with faked indifference. My god, this is driving me nuts. I was forced to bite the soft flesh inside my cheek when his tiny round head turned to look up at me.

Henrique looked terrified to find me there so suddenly, backing away. His silver eyes were wide with shock. I supposed Deborah must have seemed pretty out of place in the library, like fire and ice in the same place.

“D-Deborah?”

“This is the book you wanted.”

Henrique’s stare turned cold. “Were you spying on me?” he spat fiercely.

I resisted the urge to sigh at his guarded behavior. “Yes, because you were so cute.” I didn’t think it was necessary to speak harshly to a child, so I decided to just be honest. Henrique was too young to play an important part in the family just yet. He couldn’t have any affect on my reputation in a significant way. Perhaps I could behave a little more like myself around him. I’m a sucker for cute things. And you’re at the top end of that scale.

“I’m... sorry?”

“You’re cute. You reminded me of a tiny white rabbit.”

Henrique blinked slowly, taken aback. His round ears slowly reddened as he understood what I was saying. “D-don’t make fun of me! Father and my brothers are all tall. I’ll be like them soon!” Henrique seemed upset.

Perhaps I’d stumbled across one of his insecurities without meaning to. Of course, to me, he looked about as threatening as a hissing kitten.

“Yes, of course, you will.” Smothering a laugh, I cautiously pat his lovely little head.