It’s not uncommon for someone to be interested in magic, especially those who cannot wield it. And perhaps it’s the reason people bombarded me with questions throughout my travels.

They would come up to me and ask.

—Sir, what is it that makes someone a mage?

—Hoho, even a withered branch like myself is merely a curious child! Pray tell, what is the secret behind magic?”

—Lylie, what do you think we are talented at magic?

—Bro, can you teach me how you became so powerful?

In response, I would answer—how am I supposed to know? I’m just a guy brilliant at drawing a bunch of circles and researching obscure topics.

Although, the world would have gone to ruin long ago if those were enough to turn someone into a Magus.

But really, what in the world is magic? Is it only digesting feral mana, drawing circles, and putting the purified mana into said circles? Is magic such a boring cycle, repeating itself through absorbing, drawing, inserting, and unleashing? How laughable, for that’s how magic works.

Of course, I found it unimpressive, prompting me to dig deeper. The leading theory of the origin of magic goes somewhat like this: our ancestors observed nature and created ancient casting circles.

It was crude, inefficient, and somewhat weak. Our ancestors realised its inferiority and have been improving the circles throughout the centuries, enhancing its efficiency to its bare limits.

Now, here’s the one billion firas question: What brought forth the creation of casting circles? How were our ancestors able to find the perfect combination of circles, shapes, runes, and illusory signs? Better yet, what sparked inside their brains to come up with the idea of doing so?

If you believe our ancestors reached their goal through countless trials and errors, then you’re an idiot. Observing nature? How absurd. Those words should have piqued your scepticism.

How did our ancestors find something in nature that is close to our reality-bending circles? Did they find a strolling magical beast one day and try to replicate its powers by drawing weird symbols inside a circle?

Furthermore, magical beasts gain their abilities through genetics. So where did casting circles come from?

This question should be the point where most mages stop and ponder. On the other hand, I asked myself another question: are casting circles the only way to use magic?

To verify my suspicions, I visited Garland’s Grand Library to satisfy my curiosity. Well, perhaps “satisfy” is not the right word since my attempt to visit the Grand Library was thwarted by the government itself.

They spread propaganda throughout any related books, blabbering on about how our casting circles are “righteous” and “one with the world,” while painting other potential means as “heretical” and “evil.”

Nevertheless, these propaganda materials helped me confirm my suspicion. If they were adamant enough to denounce other types of magic, then those other methods should exist in reality.

That was the moment I steeled my conviction to embark on a journey to see them for myself. Initially, my family opposed it and threatened to break my limbs to stop my “foolish” thoughts, but I convinced them to allow me to go on the grounds that I would limit the journey to a year of travel.

My journey took me southeast, to the Lumana Desert, where there had been rumours of a small tribe in the middle of nowhere, wielding strange magic and being very accommodating towards strangers. So, I spent six weeks on the road studying the Lumana Desert’s common language. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to communicate my intentions with the locals.

Thus, I managed to enter their tribe. The people of the Tari Tribe were just as friendly and accommodating as the rumours had suggested. It took me a while to get used to seeing the green-skinned aboriginal people, but their goodwill made it much easier for us to communicate.

I experienced their cuisine, which revolved around ground nuts, and their traditions. The people of the Tari Tribe believed in the God of Dance and incorporated dancing styles into their everyday movements. Even the simple act of greeting others required them to perform an intricate motion of arms.

But I wasn’t there to observe their culture. I was there to witness how they repelled monsters from attacking the tribe. And true to my expectations, it really did exist! Other ways to use magic really existed!

I watched with glee as they unleashed spells through dancing and incantations. If magic could only be achieved through casting circles and mana, how would people explain this?! They didn’t even need to draw anything; all they did was dance and chant!

Did any of their magic resemble modern magic? Mostly not, with the sole exception of mana. They utilized the mana inside their body when they used their magic. Therefore, the key to magic was mana.

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That discovery did bring me back to the same square as many other researchers, but at least I had a concrete proof in one aspect!

So, I sought to discover the truth behind mana.

Then, I—.

***

“Come on, wake up.”

Damn, was it morning already? Every part of my body felt weak, like I had just gone through a marathon.

“Are you serious…up...!”

Someone shook my shoulders back and forth, causing me to furrow my brow. I had been working hard all day, so I righteously ignored their disruption and continued my rest, all the while murmuring for them to hear. “Five more minutes…”

“You have got to be kidding me. Wake up!”

—Squirt!

Ack, it was cold! I coughed and wiped the cold water from my face. Who dared to break into my room and drench me in cold water? Wait, where was I?

A familiar voice came from beside me, dispelling the rest of my drowsiness. “You’re finally awake,” he said.

I glared at him. “What was that for?”

“Speak for yourself.” Finn scoffed and dispelled the uncomplicated casting circle on top of his palm. I forgot what it was called, but it was a first-tier spell that gathered droplets from the air and condensed them.

Finn pointed his chin towards the window, prompting me to look outside. It was a castle, tall to the point of towering Olte, displaying its glory to the citizens. It was made out of various stones, too medieval for my taste. I leaned towards the window to see what was written on top of the castle.

“The Supreme Court of Olte?” I read the bold sign on top of the castle. “Why are we here, of all places?”

“What are you on about? We’re here to attend the meeting. Stop dreaming and get out of the car.”

Then, I noticed the car we were in. No, it was a taxi. The driver lifted his orange cap when I stared at him through the rear-view mirror. I smiled politely and got out of the orange car after Finn paid the fare.

What meeting were we here for again? My mind was fuzzy. The last thing I remembered was sketching another blueprint to impress the Archmage. Wait, my blueprints?!

I fumbled around before noticing the leather suitcase on my waist. I sighed in relief when I saw that my blueprints and belongings were inside. The sigh came out white, thanks to the freezing temperature. Of course, the cold didn’t bother either of us.

Wait, wasn’t he supposed to pick me up tomorrow instead of today? Now that I thought of it, how did I even leave my house and get into the car?

My head throbbed as a piercing pain penetrated my brain.

“Whoa, hold on there.” Finn supported me by my arm. “Are you not feeling well? Should we visit the infirmary first?”

I gritted my teeth and shook him off. “No, there’s no need. Let’s just get this over with, the sooner the better.”

“Okay then, just tell me if you need a break or something.”

Finn led me towards the castle, past the few people who, like us, didn’t have a snow umbrella. Most of us here must have already attained the stage of an Adept, as expected of the Supreme Court. Those who did bring an umbrella were probably just civilians.

The castle was well-maintained with no moss on its exterior, and it appeared untouched by time. However, the medieval sensation vanished once we stepped through the metal gate, leading to a room with vents all over the walls and floor.

Finn noticed my hesitation to enter and teased, “What, afraid? Don’t worry, these things won’t bite,” displaying an annoying grin.

I snorted and stepped forward, causing the gate to close automatically. We stood there for a while, waiting for something to occur.

Suddenly, gales of wind blew from the vents. In reflex, I infused my chest with five hundred units of mana, activated the casting circle engraved on it, and created a translucent membrane around my body, obstructing the wind and particles in the air. Fortunately, it lasted only for about five seconds, lowering our crumpled clothes.

Finn raised his eyebrows, noticing the Barrier. “Now, that’s just overreacting. Where did you even draw the thing?”

I glared at him, annoyed by his antics that caused me to waste five hundred units of mana on a fourth-tier spell.

Finn rolled his eyes and walked through the wall, which slid sideways, connecting to a giant hall. “It’s only for the snow. Dispel that Barrier of yours and follow me,” he ordered, waving his arm, gesturing for me to trail after him.

I couldn’t believe he didn’t even apologise or acknowledge his wrongdoing. It was a fourth-tier spell, for god’s sake! A regular Adept would have lost half of their firepower, yet the first thing he did was order me around?! Unforgivable.

Heat surged through my chest as my face stiffened in anger. This bastard dared to commit such a sin and tried to brush it off?! I will teach him a lesson he would never forget—.

Wait, what was I about to do just now? I stared at my outstretched arm, veins bulging as it pointed towards Finn’s back. Was I about to crush his shoulder?

I winced as realisation struck me. God forbid, not again. I thought these outbursts had disappeared a while ago. Did they recur due to the rupture?

Do as usual, Lylie. Control your temper and regulate your breathing.

With every exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide, the flame inside my chest flickered and dimmed, before vanishing altogether. I wiped away the sweat on my forehead. That was close. A moment later and something terrible would have happened.

“Hey, do you want to get lost?!” Finn shouted from across the giant hall, jolting me awake from my trance. I dispelled the barrier and strode towards him, trying my best to catch up without hitting other people.

As I neared Finn’s inquisitive gaze, I put a palm over my mouth, barely managing to stifle a burst of laughter. “You sure you’re good?” Finn asked.

I nodded, unable to speak due to my sealed lips. This again, everything had been going terribly wrong since the rupture. Why did I have to deal with these uncontrollable guffaws? Not to mention the dizziness since we left the taxi. What was going on with me?

Finn stared at me in worry before grabbing my hand and moving it away, exposing my forced grin. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine,” I feigned a chuckle and shook his hand off mine, yet all Finn did was stare deeply at me.

Was my expression too fake? My grin froze as an urge to laugh overtook me. Thankfully, Finn sighed and turned around, allowing me to once again put a palm over my lips.

He walked towards an elevator and spoke. “Just tell me if you’re feeling unwell, got it?”

“Got it,” I replied through my fingers.

Both of us entered the metal elevator, ascending to the tenth floor.