Now, the term "accommodating" here refers only to the social environment. Geographically, it's a different story. Sylvania, located in the southeast of the continent, is a barren land steeped in the aura of death. Its resources and harvests are poor, with famine a recurring annual event.

Here, the abandonment of infants and the trade of human lives were commonplace. The gothic castles built by vampires, with their gaunt inhabitants and barren sandy soil, were the norm in Sylvania.

Norton wondered why, despite their noble nature, high character, and exceptional abilities—traits of vampires willing to sacrifice and work hard—this race had not attained dominance in the world. Instead, they were confined to a remote, impoverished, and desolate land. What was the reason?

"Because we are vampires."

Once, Norton couldn't help but ask a senior about this. The elder paused, then reluctantly replied, leaving the proud noble feeling deeply uncomfortable and unable to say more.

For Norton, this was enough information to deduce the truth—vampires were outcasts, unwelcome.

Clearly, in the eyes of the living, vampires, who commanded the undead and drank human blood, were enemies of all living beings. If they remained in such a barren land, they might be ignored. But if they dared to expand using their skilled necromancy to assemble armies, all living creatures, regardless of prior conflicts, would unite against the vampire invasion.

No one wished to be ruled by the dead or enslaved as puppets after death. This was the vampires' greatest weakness, limiting their ability to find allies and forcing them to face the world alone.

After expressing this, the elder grudgingly added, "Though the current situation is challenging, the great Night's Kin will not be confined here forever. Once the opportunity arises, we will march forth, as we did 4,000, 2,400, and 1,100 years ago, leading the mightiest army across the continent. It will be so!"

"Oh—sweep across the continent!" To avoid suspicion, Norton cheered like a child, raising his hands excitedly, though he was inwardly sarcastic: rather than glorious history, these seemed like tales of noble failures. Was using such failures to educate children a good idea?

Nevertheless, despite the impoverished state of the land, Norton’s life as a noble was comfortable—certainly better than his past as a sergeant major clad in spirit armor, unable to bathe for months, and eating meals resembling dog food. He had no complaints.

One evening, feeling bored, Norton read for a while before preparing for bed. Passing by his sister Juana’s room, he glanced inside and noticed something amiss.

As usual, Juana was hard at work, a magical circle made from crystal fragments spread across the floor. It was this sight that alerted Norton.

He entered the room and, seeing his sister squatting on the floor looking up at him, said, "That's incorrect. The triangle's angles should be 22.5, 27.5, and 130."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"What? Impossible! That's how it's taught in the academy."

Juana was initially pleased to see her brother approach her. However, upon hearing Norton point out an error in her magical circle, she grew annoyed. Though often praised for his talent, and despite having seen firsthand Norton's affinity for magical winds, Juana was reluctant to admit her younger brother was right—even though he had corrected her work before.

"What a joke. He hasn't even attended the academy formally, and I'm a top student in the third grade!" With this thought, Juana stubbornly ignored Norton's advice, completing her circle.

Then, with a burst and a puff of smoke, the valuable materials, costing 25 gold lars, disappeared with a bang.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn!" Staring at her failed experiment, especially with her brother present, Juana's face flushed with fury as she stomped the ground and shouted.

When she saw Norton wearing a smug "I told you so" expression, her anger surged. She rushed over, picked him up, and rubbed her face against his to punish her brother.

"This is uncomfortable—idiot—let go of me—" Although a bit of psionic power—or what this world called magical wind—could easily blast his silly sister away, Norton refrained from using such force to avoid hurting Juana. So, he endured her "punishment."

If Norton had a broader knowledge of non-lethal uses of magical wind, he wouldn't be in this predicament. Unfortunately, as a former sergeant major of the Galactic Federation, trained primarily for combat against alien bugs, his methods were severe and uncompromising. Eight years of battlefield experience had honed his ruthlessness, leaving no room for restraint.

He had countless methods to kill Juana, ensuring she died without a trace. But to use psionic power to push her away unharmed... the army never taught that.

So, unable to rely on magic and physically outmatched by a sister six years his senior, Norton’s resistance was futile. He endured her bony embrace until Juana's frustration subsided, releasing him and sitting on the floor dejectedly.

"What do I do now... I don't have enough money to buy more experimental materials..."

Despite being from a noble family, one of Sylvania's prestigious houses, the Night's Kin were restrained with their wealth, investing most funds into more crucial areas like production, industry, and military, as well as the bottomless pit of magical research and material procurement.

The small portion for decoration and maintaining noble dignity—covering attire, servants' wages, and castle furnishings—left little in the hands of vampire nobles. Juana, a lady of her standing, received only eight gold lars a month as an allowance. The 25 gold lars for her materials represented months of saving (from snacks) and borrowing high-interest loans from Norton to excel in her academy evaluations and win a scholarship to recoup her expenses. Instead, this disaster unfolded…

Gazing at the pile of ash, Juana was despondent but resolved: "Next time, I'll listen to Norton a bit." Although she had promised similarly before, nothing changed. It seemed getting through to this young lady was a herculean task.

With the day’s games over, Norton returned to his room to sleep. Though Juana was tempted to continue experimenting to salvage her pride, Norton reminded her, "It's June 1st."

June marked the most chaotic, turbulent month of the year. As night fell, the eerie, ominously red-lighted celestial body known as Morrslieb dominated the sky, replacing its blue sibling, Mannslieb.

Under Morrslieb's influence, magical winds became tumultuous, affecting many creatures. Creatures naturally attuned to these magical winds grew restless. Spells became more potent yet harder to control.

Prudent spellcasters wisely tempered their arrogance and exercised caution. Unless necessary, they refrained from casting magic. If they did, they chose weaker, more manageable spells.

However, for true master mages, this chaotic time was a rare opportunity. Experiments usually limited by insufficient energy often occurred, with imagineable consequences if they spiraled out of control...