16 - Regeneration Rate

Once, Valrion watched a heavenly soldier entertain children by summoning fire in both palms, shaping them into a dancing couple. The woman’s long dress swirled like an actual crimson silk gown while the same fiery movement wound around the man’s head. The little ones beamed joyfully, their eyes sparkling as they watched the flames twirl and spin.

From a distance, the fire resembled a moving painting crafted with remarkable precision. Attempting something like that would be nearly impossible, so Valrion knew he should go with an easier practice, like splitting the flames in two.

Squinting, he stared at the peak of the flames—the one right in the middle. He concentrated with all his might, attempting to part them. Even if it wasn’t possible, he hoped to shift them slightly. However, instead of achieving his goal, a flame the size of his fist sputtered to life in the corner of the hearth before quickly dying down.

He clicked his tongue, but since his mouth wasn’t developed enough, all he managed were mewls, as always. Impatience is something I can no longer afford, he reminded himself, just as he was about to rant in his mind about how life had never been this complicated before.

As he calmed down, he remembered a fundamental rule that applied in Heaven and all realms across the universe: repetition was the key to success.

Every branch of knowledge grew through constant practice and memorization until it was ingrained in memory. Every increase in stamina required diligent effort, with each attempt pushing the limits a little further. Even his bump needed several applications of ointment before it could heal.

There was no such thing as failure—just another step toward success, a lesson to be learned, a challenge to overcome. Right now, he might only be able to ignite an object, but if he kept at it for weeks or even months, he could eventually conjure a massive flame capable of engulfing the hearth in one try and burning down all the firewood within seconds.

He glared at the hearth, trying to part the flames again. The result was identical—he only managed to spark a small flare among the bigger flames before it quickly fizzled out.

Just as he was about to make one more attempt, he was interrupted by Sergius, who suddenly showed up and knelt in front of the hearth. Sergius extended his hand toward the fire, holding it there for a few seconds, then wiggled it slightly before standing up. Only then did Valrion notice the toasting fork in Sergius’ hand with a thick slice of bread impaled on the end.

“Wow, I burned the edges.” Sergius stared at one side of the bread that had turned deep brown. Though not burned, it would taste a bit bitter. He then nodded his chin toward Valrion. “Thank you, my liege.”

My liege.

Valrion knew Sergius was just saying random things, but he still shivered at the sound of it. It was a phrase often used by some gods when addressing him and his father. He didn’t expect someone from Eru to address him that way, and it felt surprisingly right coming from his family’s servant.

Much like what had happened between his mother and Centurion, Valrion wasn’t sure whether to make a fuss over the situation or simply ignore it and move on. As he watched Sergius return to the dining room, he realized the man had used his power to cook some food. Among all the things that could have happened, this was one of the last things that crossed his mind.

Nothing was wrong with something so harmless, but it was too unexpected—so out of place that it left him speechless even moments afterward. It wasn’t until he chuckled that he realized he actually found it funny.

“You truly are something else.” It was his mother’s turn to appear. She glanced at him, then at the hearth, then back at him again. The smile that followed was tender but tinged with sadness. She didn’t say more as she walked away and rejoined the others.

It was painfully obvious that his mother wanted to say more, but she held back, perhaps to avoid disrupting the pleasant mood of breakfast. Did she have a long, deep talk with his father about their family problem last night? Was it because she hated not seeing him sleep in a proper room?

He would have appreciated her honesty, but he had no way of encouraging her to speak up. The fact that she didn’t make any dramatic remarks and simply continued eating suggested she had become more accepting of his situation. At the very least, she didn’t have the same miserable look on her face as she did when Firmus was there.

Stolen story; please report.

Valrion’s attention returned to the hearth. He went through the same struggle as before: his thoughts tried to manipulate the shape of the fire, but the reality showed that he was just adding more flames to the firewood that had already burned down to embers. Letting out a soft gurgle of annoyance, he was still willing to give it another try.

[Warning: Low on Mana.]

[Mana: 3/27]

He went still, mind going blank. The surrounding sounds sharpened, and he could hear the conversation in the dining room.

“Carrot cakes sound incredible. Next time, don’t forget where you put last week’s vegetables,” his mother said.

“Oh, I should start hunting wild hogs. They should be in season,” Sergius said.

It seemed they were discussing what to have for dinner, and Valrion was on the verge of sobbing. He would have done anything to join them instead of being stuck in the cradle, watching as his mana nearly depleted after just twenty minutes of practice. That was without counting the rests, like when his mother and Sergius had spoken to him.

He gave the hearth another tiny breath of fire before his joints ached, and his head felt a little light. There was only one reason this happened, so he called the Handbook.

[Level: 3]

[EXP: 10/125]

[Health: 282/286]

[Mana: 0/27]

Thankfully, he knew it wasn’t primarily due to skill issues but because his mana reserve was small. If he had created one fireball powerful enough to break through brick walls, it would have likely drained almost all of his mana.

Excitement had made him forget to track how many points each trial consumed. He remembered the three and two points lost from using his power on Sergius and the fireplace in the common room. It should be safe to assume that every flame he sent toward the hearth cost about the same amount.

It also irked him that his total EXP remained the same. In theory, he expected it to increase as he practiced, but clearly, it didn’t. Besides completing quests, would he maybe gain them from killing monsters or hunting prey?

He only came to this conclusion because Sergius had mentioned hunting wild hogs, but if he were to design the Handbook, he would have set it up that way. The reason was that fighting living beings, especially monsters, should pose a real challenge.

With his mana empty, there was nothing else he could do but rest, so he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Strangely, the last thing he thought of was being five or six years old in a forest shrouded in snow with Sergius.

The scenario was simple—he imagined shooting arrows at fleeing rabbits and hitting each one every single time. Sergius then praised him before gathering the prey in the sack. When they returned home, his parents and parents were in euphoria, knowing they were guaranteed some warm soup to get them through the winter night. He had never seen his father so happy, but of course, it was just all in his head.

A few hours passed before he woke up and found Octavia sitting on the bed across from him, folding napkins in her lap. A tankard was placed on the floor nearby, making it look like she was getting drunk. Hopefully, it wasn’t alcohol since it was still daylight.

He felt a growl of hunger in his stomach and deliberately let out a loud gurgle to catch her attention. She looked up, smiled, and quickly set the folded shirt aside, rising to her feet.

“Wait here, okay? Let me call your mother,” she said. Already anticipating the conversation, he ignored her departure and checked the Handbook.

[Level: 3]

[EXP: 10/125]

[Health: 280/286]

[Mana: 4/27]

The status wasn’t a surprise. Full-grown elemental wielders took an entire day to replenish their mana, so what did he expect from a baby?

When he checked the time in the Handbook, four hours had passed. His mana regeneration rate seemed to be just around one point per hour, which made him no different from the other elemental wielders. He was special, but not that special.

One thing he knew for certain was that his maximum health and mana would increase alongside his level. To raise his level, he needed to gain EXP by completing quests. For that, he must stay proactive—constantly searching for every opportunity and never letting doubt hold him back. As long as a task was still tied to his elemental power in the Handbook, there would be unknowns left for him to explore.