Martin scrambled to his feet, retrieving the wand that had fallen to the ground and raising it high. With a shout, he exclaimed, “Lightning!” The wand traced a shimmering arc through the air, aiming at one of the towering men before him.

As a novice mage, Martin was only a second-level practitioner. His repertoire of spells was limited to simple, everyday incantations. He preferred spells like [Breeze] and [Dust Removal]—harmless and practical. Attacking spells felt foreign to him, an uncharted territory he had never ventured into.

Now, as he invoked [Lightning], he felt a surge of confidence, bolstered by the memory he inherited as a hacker . But to his dismay, the only response was a flicker of sparks at the tip of the wand. Nothing more.

“What the hell?” he muttered, bewildered.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to stare at him, confusion etched on their faces. Debbie, a fierce warrior with a glint of hope in her eyes, shouted, “You have to hide! You can’t fight—leave it to me!”

“Don’t let that kid escape! Quinn, grab him!” shouted Busca, one of the imposing figures in the room.

A swordsman named Quinn sneered, striding toward Martin with malicious intent.

Debbie rushed to intercept him, swinging her massive sword, but was blocked by Busca, who stepped in her path. “Martin, get out of here! Now!” she yelled in desperation.

But Martin stood his ground, clutching the wand with determination. He was struck by a sudden realization—magic operated similarly to the programs he had spent his life creating.

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Magic was a manifestation of mental power and intent, a way to shape the world around him. The spell [Lightning] required a mental template, a specific configuration of magical symbols stored in his mind. Activating the spell meant channeling that template through the wand and drawing in the elements of lightning from the environment.

He tried to summon the spell again, drawing on the knowledge inherited from Hammer. However, something felt off. The magic template he had formed in his mind was flawed, preventing him from harnessing the lightning elements correctly.

“The magic template!” Martin thought frantically. “It must be corrupted!”

His heart raced as Quinn’s rough hands seized him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. With a menacing grin, Quinn taunted, “What’s wrong, Mr. Mage? Your magic doesn’t seem to be working.”

Martin felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. He was running out of time. The long sword in Quinn’s hand was poised to strike, and the reality of his predicament began to sink in.

He focused intently, recalling the structure of the [Lightning] template. Each spell was composed of magical symbols, and he had the capability to identify the errors within. As a peak hacker, deciphering code was second nature to him.

With urgency, he mentally navigated the structure of the spell. “It’s simple,” he thought. “Just a few lines, and if I can spot the error…”

“Here! This symbol is wrong!” he gasped as clarity flooded his mind. “It’s creating a redundancy that’s breaking the spell!”

“Martin!” Debbie’s voice cried out again, snapping him back to reality.

Quinn’s sword was inches from his chest, and he could feel the weight of impending doom. But instead of fear, Martin felt a strange calm wash over him.

He raised his wand one last time, a smile forming on his lips. “Lightning!”

A brilliant bolt arced from the wand, striking Quinn squarely in the chest. The impact sent him crashing backward, his body slamming into a shelf, sending debris flying.

Martin landed gracefully, wand in hand, exhilaration coursing through him. In that moment, he felt powerful and alive.

"That was... surprisingly exhilarating," he thought, a newfound confidence igniting within him.