The slate before Martin was etched with a few simple magic symbols, forming a basic magic matrix. He marveled at its functionality: it could absorb the fire elements in the air and create a flame. “It’s incredible,” he thought as he observed the small stove flickering to life, the red flames dancing merrily.

In reality, the stove was simply a slab placed on a countertop, engraved with a line of magical symbols. This magic matrix acted like a program, continuously drawing fire elements from the surrounding air.

Yet, for the magic matrix to work, it had to be activated with actual magic. Magic itself was a vital component in becoming a magician. To Martin, magic felt like a wondrous energy source. If the slate with the magic matrix were a machine, the symbols would be the program or circuit board, and the magic power would be its electricity. Without the right input, the machine remained dormant.

To the side of the stove, a small blue gemstone glimmered. This magical crystal had the power to keep the flame burning for months. By controlling the output of the magic, Martin could adjust the flame size—akin to using an induction cooktop.

Magic was an extraordinary energy that everyone possessed, though the amount varied from person to person. Depending on their chosen profession, the energy had different names. Mage's referred to it as magic, swordsmen called it sword energy, believers identified it as the power of faith, and knights spoke of it as an oath.

The people in this world had also discovered various types of gemstones that could trap and release the magic within them.

"The application of magic has permeated everyday life here," Martin mused, glancing around the kitchen. The chandelier overhead was crafted from a flame matrix mixed with glass, while a device on the kitchen counter utilized a wind matrix to create a gentle breeze, much like an electric fan. There was even a simple storage box that kept food cool using an ice matrix—far different from the refrigerators he was familiar with.

Anthony’s Magic Cabin, the establishment he was in, specialized in selling such magical items.

As he continued to marvel at the magic-infused gadgets around him, Martin felt a surge of excitement. With his programming knowledge, he could decipher the thirty-two magic symbols that made up these basic magic matrices. His background in hacking had honed his ability to parse complex strings, which made understanding these magical constructs intuitive.

“I never imagined my hacking skills would translate to magic…” he thought, a smile creeping onto his face as he considered the possibilities.

According to the memories of his predecessor, the more advanced magic in this world was fundamentally built on these thirty-two symbols. Simple spells required fewer symbols, while more complex curses could demand thousands, even millions. The most potent spells had the capability to reshape the earth itself.

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However, mastering the sheer volume of symbols required a level of mental strength that was beyond ordinary individuals. Only those with the magical aptitude of a true magician could hope to bear such a burden.

"And these magic symbols are far more intricate than any programming language I’ve encountered," he thought. "Combining them could yield incredible effects."

A newfound interest in the magical world bubbled within him. Yet, he knew he had to improve his own abilities. Currently, he was only a second-tier mage. The hierarchy of magicians was clear: primary mage ranged from levels one to three, intermediate from four to six, and advanced from seven to nine.

However, reaching the pinnacle as an advanced mage was just the beginning. From there, they would delve into specialized fields, exploring deeper magical elements. It was rumored that a higher sacred realm existed beyond specialization.

But those thoughts were far ahead of him. In the town of Stan, where Martin resided, the highest-ranking magician barely reached level seven. Even the Martan Empire, to which Stan belonged, only boasted a handful of level eight magicians.

As Martin contemplated this magical world, he stirred a pot of noodles on the enchanted stove. When the noodles were ready, he called out for Debbie, his companion, to join him for lunch.

Outside, he spotted Debbie practicing with her oversized sword, her form impressive despite her small stature. She swung the massive weapon with ease, creating an illusion of impending flight with every motion.

“Debbie, it’s time for lunch!” Martin shouted.

She paused, leaning the sword against a nearby well, and wiped the sweat from her brow before rushing inside, eager for a hearty meal.

Curious, Martin approached the giant sword leaning against the well and attempted to lift it. To his dismay, he found it far too heavy for him to budge.

“Looks like I’m better off with magic than swinging swords,” he muttered, resigned to his limitations.

As he watched Debbie devour her noodles, he glanced toward the yard’s entrance, contemplating a stroll. He still had much to learn about the world outside.

Just as he decided to step out, Debbie appeared before him, a noodle dangling from the corner of her mouth. “Martin, where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her hands on her hips.

“I was just going for a walk…” he replied.

“No!” she insisted, shaking her head. “You scared off that creep with magic this morning! If he sees you alone, he might try to attack you again. So, you’re not allowed to leave the yard!”

“I can use attack magic now. Why should I be afraid?” Martin protested, feeling exasperated.

“When your attack spell isn’t fully charged, don’t you realize? This morning was pure luck! If you go out there, it’s too risky. Just stay here, and I’ll handle it. I promise after three days, he won’t dare come back. I still have a trick up my sleeve!”

“Then what can I do?” Martin asked, feeling a bit helpless.

“Just focus on living well,” Debbie replied seriously.

“...”

She patted his shoulder reassuringly, her expression a mix of protectiveness and determination. Despite being two years younger, Debbie naturally took on the role of protector, especially since Martin was still a fledgling magician.

Even though a mage could wield considerable power, their weaknesses were evident, especially in the limited number of spells they could cast.

“Fine, I’ll stay put for now…” Martin nodded, though he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. “Buska said he would return in three days. I need to be prepared for whatever comes next.”