The Freak Show Foreman

Some people ignored his advice and left their creations as they were, while others made improvements.

Arno ignored the former and offered a bit more guidance to the latter.

There were only a few days left until the opening ceremony.

If someone seemed to be making good progress with the advice, he thought about giving them an invitation.

Finally, his steps came to a halt in front of the table where the girl to whom he had made a scathing comment yesterday.

Today, it was empty.

"Was I too harsh?" he wondered.

She was the youngest of the wizards present, and yet he had spoken more harshly than the others.

Her created illusion was impressive, but her limitations were clear.

He felt sorry for her talent.

If only she would focus on her abilities rather than obsess over illusion magic.

Even though her face was covered, he knew who she was, thanks to word of mouth.

She was a friend’s daughter.

He could have given her more gentle advice.

But doing so would have rendered her presence here meaningless if she chose a path where she had no talent.

If she wanted to walk a path where she had no talent, she needed to overcome this kind of criticism.

If she couldn’t, it might be better for her to leave.

And so, another day passed, and the next day came.

Her spot was still empty.

Had she simply run away?

Or was she preparing herself with determination?

Both actions required courage.

Whichever it was, Arno wanted to support her.

And so, the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

She didn’t come.

Time continued to pass, and the final day arrived.

The chosen ones had been selected long ago.

The rest were merely subpar wizards.

Nevertheless, he still came here every day.

Perhaps hoping for her arrival.

But she didn’t come.

Had she truly given up?

It was both disappointing and a relief.

As he prepared to leave after collecting his thoughts, he saw someone standing at the entrance of the tent.

White hair like snow, flawless features resembling a doll.

An expression so emotionless it seemed cold, with icy eyes.

It was the owner of the vacant spot.

Arno looked at the girl who had once been the object of his affection and jealousy.

"Back then, the one deemed unsuitable. What brings you here?"

Arno pretended not to know.

However, her purpose was roughly guessed.

Today is the last day of the selection.

Revealing her face, previously hidden behind a mask, clearly indicated her intention.

Perhaps she wanted to acknowledge the limits of her talent and use her parents’ name in return.

However, what came out of her mouth was unexpected.

"I’ve come to demonstrate a illusion."

Her voice still lacked emotion, but Arno could feel her confidence in her stance.

Could it be that in that short time, she grasped the mystery?

Perhaps his eccentricity served as a shock therapy?

Was that why she accessed the mystery?

"Give it a try."

However, his expectations rapidly dwindled when he saw the faint light emanating from her hands.

Arno had walked the path of illusion magic for a whopping 40 years.

He could tell what kind of magic she was trying to cast just by looking at her.

She was attempting to use the same magic as a few days ago, utilizing light and computational power.

She didn’t realize the mystery.

It was pathetic.

Disappointing.

He wondered how a fallen genius could rise again.

Suddenly, people began to gather around them.

The remaining illusion magicians in this tent were essentially confirmed failures.

Most of them couldn’t admit their lack of skill and clung to stubbornness and resentment.

That’s why the gazes on Maya were not kind.

"Isn’t that the one from last time?"

"The human memory disk? Pff."

"Is she here to embarrass herself again today?"

She received scornful looks and comments from the people, but she remained unfazed.

Arno’s cold gaze pierced her, but she wasn’t afraid.

She felt one gaze beyond the crowd that was looking at her.

He was sending an encouraging smile.

You can do it.

Maya took a deep breath and recalled what she had practiced for the past few days.

***

Maya’s basic ability was to create polyhedrons with her magic.

She would mark points and connect them with lines to form shapes.

In TT1, it was only used for solving puzzles or acting as bridges and walls.

But as the series progressed, her abilities improved.

In TT2, a blueprint feature was added.

She could pre-enter the design of a polyhedron and create the shape when needed.

Originally, her ability was only used in non-combat situations, but that changed from that point on.

After the addition of blueprints, a game called "Polygon Art" became popular.

It involved creating intricate polygon models in the game using hundreds or even thousands of polyhedrons.

Videos displaying the heads of past bosses on display in the camp became real-time bestsellers.

In TT3, her abilities were taken a step further as mass and movement were added to the polyhedral.

This evolution turned Polygon Art into Polygon Engineering.

Combinations of hundreds of component polygons created bizarre objects.

Siege weapons, cars, and even giant combat robots were made.

Of course, this didn’t have a significant impact on the gameplay itself.

A single hit from an elite monster would cause the polyhedral to collapse like dominoes.

However, occasionally, it offered creative ways to assist in gameplay.

In quests where you had to escort a slow-moving companion character to the opposite side of the city, there was a play where you would load the companion into a catapult and launch them to save time, which resulted in big laughs.

In that aspect, I was the best among TTT YouTubers.

In fact, my rise to fame was largely due to that.

With my ingenuity to break through the system’s limits, I created all sorts of special feature videos.

The boss heads on display and the catapult play I mentioned earlier were both videos I shot.

Polygon Engineering was my specialty.

I taught her everything I knew.

Indeed, a genius was a genius.

In just a few days, she absorbed all the mathematical knowledge and crafting skills I had accumulated over the years.

***

The new cube he presented.

It was a illusion made up of eight points, twelve lines, and six surfaces.

Only the outer surface was implemented, an illusion.

The inside was empty.

To create a fantasy, the magicians claimed that you had to visualize the essence in your mind, making their argument into a ridiculous joke.

Maya had been bound by their methods.

She had been deceived by their claims and forced herself to mimic the essence.

She had stacked each grain to form a shape.

That was her illusion magic.

Arno called it deception. Illusion.

He was right.

But what about the new cube that Wonderstein presented?

It was even more deceptive.

It completely ignored the existence of essence itself.

It built only the surface, the appearance, as if such a thing did not exist.

A radical idea that shook the paradigm of conventional illusion magic.

His approach was genius.

"What about the colours?"

Maya looked at the cube that appeared before her.

As it was, it was just a shining die.

Mahogany.

12 facets of nephrite.

Asymmetrical grain.

17 hollows.

4 fragments.

What should she do next?

Wonderstein said in an indifferent voice, "Maya, your father taught you how to paint, right? Try coloring it the way you want."

Ah.

With that, Maya awakened.

Magic power emanated from her body.

It was a vast and deep magic power, beyond belief for a 16-year-old girl.

In terms of the quality, quantity, and usability of magic, she had already surpassed the level of the academy’s professors.

Those who had teased her were taken aback.

He wondered if she had exploded in anger.

Maya didn’t waste any of her mental energy on such trivial reactions.

She focused solely on drawing the image she wanted.

And she calculated accordingly.

The light particles created by her magic power moved exactly as she had calculated, without a single error in the composition.

Points connected to points,

Lines met lines,

Surfaces formed shapes.

Still, within the unimplemented, colourless, transparent illusion.

Maya picked up a brush.

She recalled the days when she used to paint with her father in the yard.

Back then, she stood in front of the canvas and painted the colours she saw.

Do they think I don’t understand the essence of things?

That I have no heart?

That I won’t step into the realm of mystery?

She would no longer be bound by their way of looking at the world.

Maya wielded the brush.

Colours spread over the colourless illusions.

Everything around her was filled with her colours.

Visualize, calculate, release magic, shape, and colour.

All of these processes took only a few seconds when combined.

The bright radiance emanating from her body subsided.

Maya opened her eyes.

In the distance, a blue horizon of an island’s coastline, spewing white clouds.

Waves broke beneath rocks with holes, and water droplets splashed up.

What she saw in her eyes when she turned around was a sea of yellow.

The undulating waves of rapeseed flowers that descended from the hills tickled her ankles as they flowed into the sea.

One by one, the petals carried by the wind emitted an indescribable fragrance.

Bees and butterflies moved silently among the flowerbeds.

The gentle touch of the wind, imperceptible, brushed against her cheek.

Her final assignment of the semester, the landscape of an island’s rapeseed flower field.

She had recreated it perfectly and more.

Her immersion in the illusion was only for a moment.

For a moment, her head felt numb, and people started to appear around her.

She could hear their voices.

"Is, is this possible at her age?"

"She implemented the landscape to this level?"

People looked at her with expressions of disbelief.

Perhaps she had just been in a meditative space.

She had poured all of her focus into activating just one magic.

Even her abundant magic power was completely depleted.

Then, someone walked towards her on the cliff.

No matter how perfect it was, an illusion was still an illusion.

That place had solid ground.

As her magic power dwindled, the man supported her.

Normally, she would have detested anyone’s touch, but this time, she accepted the gesture without hesitation.

She was tired, and this magic could not have been accomplished without his help.

"Good job."

At his words, Maya mustered a faint smile, which would seem faint to ordinary people.