Shoba POV

The following morning greeted Shoba with an unwelcome heaviness in his head as if his skull were filled with dense swirling metal.

Accompanying this discomfort was a deluge of new memories—vivid, poignant snapshots from the life of Raito Suta, the boy whose body he now inhabited.

These recollections painted an indifferent history of joy and adversity for the young boy, revealing a life marked by solitude. A boy who didn't quite understand where he fit within this world. He wasn't gifted, nor did he possess any lofty dreams of conquering the world. Most of the time he followed Demoria wherever she wanted to go, without so much as a voice of doubt towards some of her crazed schemes.

If Shoba could describe Raito Suta's life, it would be a short life lived in obscurity and fear.

Overwhelmed by this intimate glimpse into Suta's experiences, Shoba allowed a solitary tear to escape as he lay in bed, immersed in the poignant narrative of a life once lived for a boy who always felt alone.

'Somehow, both you and I are the same...Suta' He thought to himself, reminded by how he internally felt around his own family. Plagued by a unique train of self-thought which others called genius. Most times Shoba felt he wore a mask around everyone. Simply to either fit in or appease those around him.

‘Just like you Suta, I too always felt as though no one truly saw me.’

In the days that followed, time meandered like a serene river, each moment distinct and full of discovery for Shoba. Who somehow felt like a newborn baby first entering into the world.

Shoba found real joy in the time spent with Granny Baba, who, despite initial reservations, had warmed to his keen interest in her arcane craft. With the patience of a mentor, she guided him through the meticulous process of potion brewing, occasionally letting slip the basic secrets of Arcane along the way.

She introduced him to the foundational concepts of particle formations and energy fusion, the initial steps toward mastering spell casting. Though these concepts eluded full comprehension, Shoba approached them with the same diligence that had propelled him through his academic pursuits on Earth. It also helped that he had maintained the principles of Arcane which had been taught to him by that handsome-faced fellow in the carriage.

Granny Baba's meticulous habit of documenting her work was also a helpful intrigue to Shoba.

He learned from her that the realm of Arcane was dynamic, where even formulas leading to similar outcomes could vary in process and potency. This principle underscored the fluid and ever-evolving nature of the arcane and why it was such a complex world that many scholars spent their entire lives dedicated to simply scratching the surface.

"You think Arcane is some sort of tool? Something you can summon and use repeatedly until the tool needs replacing? No. Arcane or shall we call it magic or the art, is as real to us as the invisible air all around us.

There was a time when Arcanists had to pay tribute to a chosen patron, just to receive the blessing needed to cast spells. Fufufu can you imagine begging the empty air for a sufficient amount of grace to cast minor spells? It's quite something to see how far Arcane has come during my lifetime Little Su, and I know it'll only keep growing."

Shoba absorbed every nugget of wisdom Granny Baba shared, recognizing the value in both her deliberate teachings and offhand remarks. To Shoba the idea of magic sounded so astounding and yet just complex enough to have him consistently thinking about it.

His days were divided between lively discussions with Granny Baba, teaching him about the basics of the Arcane, and going through some of her old notes on the future of the art, whilst the tranquil evenings were spent roaming the lofty hills and vast gardens with Demoria.

This strange but somewhat slightly regular routine, was a blend of rigorous study and companionship, imbued his days with a sense of fulfillment and purpose. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, Shoba felt a growing sense of belonging in this world. This unusually familiar feeling was even starting to aid his determination towards acquiring strength.

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On the 23rd day after his transmigration into this new world, In the tender glow of an early, balmy morning, Shoba found himself accompanying Demoria through the dappled light of the woods that bordered their path to Toma's abode. The friendly giant was surprisingly in charge of most of the day to day runnings on this farm. Shoba had discovered the term not to judge a book by its cover after observing Toma.

Demoria, who had been plagued by restless nights, had voiced her frustrations about her elusive slumber and was determined to persuade Toma into parting with one of Baba's renowned sweet honey tonic drops, a remedy she hoped would cure her insomnia.

Shoba had been told secretly that Demoria was going through a transformation. Not so much a scary outward kind he first imagined. But one that concerned her body getting stronger. The term Granny used was ' breaking through' into a new phase of power. Shoba pried a little deeper into that, and could only gather minor details.

‘So, Mana cores go through an evolution process.’ Shoba thought to himself whilst stealing the sweet fragrance from pink petalled flowers he carried between his fingers.

“Suuuuta! Hurry-hurry up, you’re taking too long.”

As they meandered through the grassland, they found themselves surrounded by the vast crowded area where the dew-kissed blades crunched softly beneath their feet. They ventured a little into the crowded thickets when a commotion arose, catching both of their attentions as they noticed a cluster of grey-beaked crows perched against one of the high branches in the approaching trees above.

These avian creatures were wreaking havoc on a young pear tree, only just blossoming its fruit.

Demoria, already restless and filled with annoyance began hurling rocks at the crows in a bid to get them to leave the tree alone. Much to Shoba's dismay one of her throws managed to whack one of the birds clean against its head.

And in a fit of rage, the enraged crow took to the skies, circling ominously before diving towards the duo with its sharp beak leading the charge. Shoba, bewildered by the unfolding spectacle, remained stationary. Somehow, he was drawn to the strange flight pattern of the crow.

Demoria on the other hand placed herself between Shoba and the descending sharp-beaked bird. As the crow bore down on them, she extended her delicate right hand towards the assailant, and in the nick of time, she snatched at the air and caught the crow by its beak.

The crow, now ensnared and visibly confounded by this unexpected show of force, could do little but squawk weakly, its efforts to escape proving futile as Demoria shook the bird a few times with a childish grin.

Shoba, who was firstly taken aback by Demoria's display of otherworldly strength, was reminded once again of the vast chasm that separated this world from Earth. Yet, what unfolded next would eclipse all prior revelations.

Within Demoria's grip, a fine mist of pale dust began to materialize, accompanied by a soft crackling sound that filled the air. Shoba, stepping back, watched in awe as a frost began to spread from Demoria's hand, enveloping the crow in a creeping sheath of ice.

The transformation was swift; the bird's desperate screeches were silenced as the frost sealed its fate, morphing it into a stunning, crystalline sculpture of ice.

Demoria, turning to face Shoba with a mischievous glint in her eyes, presented the frozen avian figure with a playful smile.

"For you, my prince," she sang in the most sweetest of voices, her grin revealing a row of pearly teeth.

Shoba nervously chuckled before politely refusing the inhumane gift.

“n-n-no thanks...I’ll pass”

The sight of the crow, now eternally encased in ice, stirred a pang of sympathy within him. Yet, as the initial shock subsided, he realized he had just witnessed the manifestation of Arcane Magic for the first time. A phenomenon both thrilling and slightly terrifying to witness up close.

This was the power he longed to master, a power he knew would not come easily.

' Patience and understanding. Slowly I will learn and hone it. Even If I must make the deal with the devil himself, wait for me...Mom...I will get stronger.'

Shoba’s wide gaze fell towards the bird swallowed in ice resting beside his foot, after a few moments he noticed webs of cracks covering its glaciered surface. He lifted his foot before cautiously placing it against the ice. The cracked webs spread across the entire sculpture before shattering into pieces.

“heh? Beautiful...” Shoba muttered beneath his breath.