As I descended the stairs, I could feel a presence waiting for me at the bottom. The air was thick with anticipation, almost as if someone had been counting each step I took. My eyes drifted downward to find a tall, broad-shouldered man leaning casually against the wall, his sword hanging by his hip. That familiar, confident stance—it could only be Uncle Darius.

"What are you up to, Ori?" Darius asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and amusement, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Reading again," Morgana interjected, stepping into the hallway with her arms crossed. "Just like last time. Always buried in those books."

I continued my slow walk down the stairs, trying to look as innocent as possible. Darius waited patiently, his eyes fixed on me, as if sizing up a challenge. When I finally reached the last step, he swooped me up effortlessly, lifting me until I was face-to-face with his rugged, scruffy smile.

"Reading's good, but you've got to play too, little man," he said, his tone warm but firm, giving me a light tap on the nose. "You need to run around, roughhouse a bit. Build some muscle. Otherwise, how can you ever be as strong as me?"

He flexed his bicep, showing off the impressive curve of muscle, and raised his eyebrows as if daring me to challenge him. His arms were solid, scarred from years of wielding that sword of his, yet there was a gentleness in the way he held me.

Darius was every bit the swordsmen—a former knight who'd seen countless battles but now played the role of protector and leader in the village. Even though he had the demeanor of a fighter, he never failed to show his softer side around family. He treated me less like a nephew and more like a son he could train into his own image.

"I bet you can't even lift a sword yet, can you?" he teased, giving me a little shake. "How about we start with sticks, hmm? Maybe we can have a duel later, see if you can keep up."

I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, even if the idea of playing knight didn't appeal to me as much as poring over ancient texts. But it was hard to resist Darius when he looked at me like that, with his bright, proud eyes and the way he spoke as if he could see my potential even when I couldn't.

"Sure, Uncle," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic, though my mind was still lingering on the pages I'd been reading. "But... can I finish my book first?"

Morgana rolled her eyes with a playful sigh. "Of course you'd say that. You're like a little old man trapped in a boy's body, Orion."

Darius chuckled, setting me down and ruffling my hair. "Alright, alright, scholar. Finish your book. But after that, we're heading outside. You need some fresh air, and maybe we can even convince Elara to join us. She could use the exercise too."

I nodded, relieved to have a bit more time before I had to switch gears. As I walked past them, I caught a glimpse of Morgana's knowing smile. I could tell she was glad Darius was trying to get me out more, but there was also a flicker of understanding in her eyes. Maybe she knew I was searching for something in those books, something important.

"Just don't lose yourself in those pages, Ori," she said softly, almost as if she was reading my thoughts. "There's a whole world out here, waiting for you."

I retreated once more to my sanctuary, the quiet corner of the top floor where I could lose myself in thought and study. Here, away from the noise and bustle of the household, I could dive deeper into the mysteries of this world. One of the many things that fascinated me was how mana worked—the lifeblood of magic and power in this realm.

In this world, the gift of mana wasn't common. Only about one in a hundred people could wield it, and they usually discovered their potential around the age of five. For those who could harness mana, it could be channeled in three distinct ways, each shaping their abilities and paths in life: Mana Core, Mana Heart, and Mana Circles.

Mana Core

This technique was favored by fighters, beastkin, and anyone whose strength lay in brute force and physical prowess. Those who developed a Mana Core had a reservoir of energy inside them, a solid core that generated mana whenever they needed it. Cores were ranked by color, ranging from the most basic White, to more powerful colors like Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and finally, the rarest, Violet and black . The color indicated the core's purity and strength—the richer the hue, the stronger the output.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Pros: A Mana Core was high-output and could release bursts of power, perfect for intense, fast-paced combat. Those with strong cores could endure long battles without running out of energy.

Cons: The drawback was its limitation. Users couldn't draw mana from their surroundings; they relied entirely on the mana their core could generate. Once depleted, it needed time to recover. This made them vulnerable if they overextended their power in a fight.

Mana Heart

This technique was more delicate and versatile, used by swordsmen, hunters, and those who needed agility and precision. The concept was simple yet effective: the user's heart would act as a pump, sending mana throughout their body, enhancing their reflexes, speed, and strength. It was almost like the mana flowed through their veins alongside their blood, providing a constant, gentle surge of power.

Pros: The main advantage of the Mana Heart technique was its balance and efficiency. Users could sense and interact with surrounding mana, even using it to boost their abilities temporarily. This allowed them to adapt quickly in battle, changing their approach on the fly.

Cons: Its effectiveness depended entirely on the user's control and efficiency. It was less powerful than the high-output bursts of a Mana Core, and if a user's control slipped, they could find themselves drained or worse—overloaded, leading to severe injuries.

Mana Circles

Mana Circles were the domain of mages, scholars, and anyone who delved into the arcane. This technique created a series of rings around the heart, which acted as channels for manipulating and absorbing mana from the environment. The more circles one had, the greater their magical potential. Mages with higher numbers of circles could cast more powerful spells and sustain them longer, making them incredibly versatile in battle or other pursuits.

Pros: Unlike those who relied solely on their internal reserves, mages could draw mana from their surroundings. This allowed them to weave complex spells, enchant objects, or even control elements. The versatility of Mana Circles made it possible to adapt spells on the spot, combining different elements to suit the situation.

Cons: However, this technique had its limits. The strength of spells depended on the mage's own mana capacity, and manipulating higher-level spells took a significant toll on their reserves. If a mage overreached, they could find themselves drained to the point of collapse. Moreover, maintaining more circles required rigorous training and discipline—few ever made it past three, and those with six or seven were considered prodigies.

Each technique had its strengths and flaws, shaping not just how people fought, but how they lived. Those with Mana Cores were the bruisers, the frontline warriors who could take a hit and keep going. Those with Mana Hearts were swift and deadly, cutting through the battlefield like a blade. And those with Mana Circles were the thinkers, the strategists who could bend reality to their will.

In my past life, I wasn't just a typical mage. Sure, I was classified as a three-circle mage, but that title never truly captured my abilities. Even the goddess-favored Yuui couldn't stand against me. I wasn't bound by the limitations of a single technique; I'd pushed my body and soul beyond their natural limits, blending the strengths of all three major methods of mana control. I was a jack-of-all-trades, and a master of none.

I started by training my heart to become mana-sensitive, using the Mana Heart technique. It allowed me to pump mana throughout my entire body, heightening my senses and making my physical attacks almost supernatural. But I didn't stop there. I then integrated Mana Circles around my heart, like ethereal rings orbiting a glowing star. This was the foundation of a mage's power, giving me access to spells of immense potency and precision.

Finally, I achieved what no other mage dared to—integrating Mana Cores within those circles. Imagine it: a solar system of cores orbiting my heart, each core functioning as its own mini-generator of energy, amplifying my output while maintaining a continuous flow of mana. It was like having multiple suns blazing within me. The process nearly killed me, twice. But I endured, and because of it, I could manipulate blood with unmatched precision, sense even the subtlest of threats, and fight relentlessly without tiring.

Now, in this life, I need to do it all over again. But this time, I can't rely on the same tricks. Using blood magic would raise too many questions—who taught me, where did I learn such a forbidden skill? And there's another complication... dragons.

In my previous life, I had Valthryx, my loyal dragon. A beast of unparalleled strength and wisdom, Valthryx handled the dragons for me; I never had to lift a finger. But now? I'll have to face them myself, without the luxury of a draconic ally.

"Orion, come down!" Darius's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, echoing through the house.

I let out a sigh. This was going to be harder than I thought. With no Valthryx and no blood magic, I would have to find another way to become the ultimate weapon again. But for now, there was no escaping Uncle Darius's summons.

"Knowledge is strength," I reminded myself, closing the book with a soft thud. Whatever path I took, I needed to be ready.