Chapter 5 - My life now

REYNOLDS LEYWIN

My baby boy!

I was so happy we'd had a son. I was eager to start training him—I couldn't

remember when I had started training, but I knew I'd been very young. I

couldn't wait to teach my baby boy all about magic! I hoped he would turn

out to be an augmenter, like his old pops. I knew the basics of conjuring, but

couldn't do anything practical with it, except use it as a form of mental exercise.

Alice, on the other hand, was one of the most talented people I'd ever seen.

Even as an emitter, she was exceptional. Back when we were just dating,

she'd joined my party and we'd gone on missions together. Her restorative

power was amazing in and of itself, but I could still remember how shocked I

was the day she used an area of effect spell that healed all allies within a five-

yard radius. Talk about one of a kind!

And she chose me for her husband.

I'll never get tired of saying that.

In the good old days, before we settled down, we often went into the Beast

Glades to hunt for mana beasts. Mana beasts were unique animals—creatures

born with the ability to absorb mana into their bodies and create their own

mana cores, which we called beast cores.

Beast cores had unlimited uses, making them highly sought after. Of course,the higher the class of the beast core, the more valuable it was. Mana beast

classifications ranged from the E-class, such as the domesticated fanged bull

used for meat and leather, to the SS-class monsters. I didn't know much

about those—I'd never seen one, nor known anyone who had—but I believed

they did exist.

As a rule of thumb, a mana beast was always assumed to be stronger than a

human of the same class. This was simply because, even taking mana out of

the picture, a beast's physical body was much stronger than a human's.

While the Beast Glades were dangerous, if you were cautious and didn't get

lost, it was pretty easy to keep yourself out of trouble. The stronger beasts

tended to be down in dungeon-like caves underground or farther away. The

first several miles of the Beast Glades were pretty well mapped, and as long

as you were at least a C-class adventurer, you could handle the creatures

there.

Once in a while, the Guild posted missions requiring multiple parties of

adventurers, usually for clearing and mapping the harder dungeons that

hadn't yet been fully explored. If a mana beast was strong enough to create

its own lair and have other mana beasts serving it, then you could bet there

would be treasures to be gained. Questing was exhilarating—the danger

added a thrill that you wouldn't find anywhere else. If it weren't for the... the

incident with Alice and Lensa, I was sure we wouldn't have settled down as

quickly as we did.

I told Art about the adventuring life—all those stories and many more. Alice

said I was brainwashing him, but I just wanted him to at least have some

experience as an adventurer when he got older.

I didn't know what I'd do if little Art never awakened as a mage. I didn't care

how long it took—if he could train to become any kind of mage, I knew I

would be a proud and happy father.

It was easy to tell what type of mage someone would be when they

awakened: While augmenters and conjurers both form a translucent barrier,the mana behaves differently around them during that time.

Augmenters, when they first awaken, form a sort of pushing force around the

barrier, signifying that they have dominant mana channels in their body.

Conjurers, on the other hand, form a vacuum of mana around them, which

means their mana veins are more dominant. Of course, the degree of the

pushing and vacuuming forces depends on their talent in either category.

Not to brag, but when I first awakened—at the early age of twelve, by the

way—I was sleeping, and the pushing force made me float for a good couple

of minutes. Enough force to lift a human body—imagine that!

I was with Alice in the front yard after dinner, making plans to train Art after

his awakening. If he ended up becoming a conjurer, I could get him a tutor

from Ashber, since neither Alice nor I were adept enough to be teaching him.

I had barely finished the thought when—

*BOOM!*

What happened?

Three-quarters of the house was gone. Art… Little Art was still in the house...

"Arthur!"

The blood drained from Alice's face and her eyes went wide with disbelief

and worry. I pushed her down, covering her with a temporary shield that

would last for a few minutes.

I rushed toward the explosion, shielding my body with a layer of mana over

my skin. The debris from my house came flying toward me as I drew nearer

to the source of the explosion. After fighting my way through the scraps of

what was left of my house and yard, I saw it.

An all but invisible barrier flickered around my son. It was clear that the

pushing force of his awakened powers had caused this explosion. He was

floating in the center of a crater that had demolished most of our house, as

well as our entire backyard.

My legs gave out. I fell to my knees as I gaped at the sight. My son was

almost three years old, and he had awakened. Only three…

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Reynolds! Honey!"

I glanced back at my wife, my mouth still hanging open from shock. The

debris had stopped flying and she was slowly making her way toward me,

taking half-steps and covering her face with her arms to shield herself from

the strong pushing force still emanating from Art.

"Reynolds! What happened? What's going on? Where's Art?"

Still unable to find the strength to speak, I simply pointed my finger in the

direction of our son.

Confused, she followed the line of my finger. All she could manage to

whisper was, "Oh my…"

ARTHUR

Wow. I feel great!

Feeling refreshed by my breakthrough, I closed my eyes to sense my newly

formed mana core. My sweet little mana core!

"Art! Oh, my baby! Are you okay?"

I jerked my head up to see my mother rushing toward me, while my father

knelt on the ground.

What misdeed was Mother punishing him for this time?

My mother lifted me up and hugged me tightly enough that my

underdeveloped ribs almost gave out.

I managed to squeal, "Mom, no cry. What's wrong?"

She didn't answer me, just continued sobbing while cradling me. My father

came to stand next to her, patting her back and stroking my head, giving me a

weak smile.

After a brief moment of confusion, I pulled myself away from my mother's

bosom and looked around to see that we were standing in the center of a giant crater. Most of our house was gone.

What the hell? Who did this? Who would have the audacity to destroy the

home of a king? The perpetrators will rue this day! I will hunt them down day

and night and not rest until—

"Congratulations, Art, honey," my mother said weakly, while my father

exclaimed, "You awakened, Champ."

I was speechless and didn't know what to think. We all looked at each other

for a moment as I let it sink in.

I did this?

In my old world, a similar phenomenon occurred when a youth awakened; a

clear barrier appeared around the awakened and a small pushing force would

surround the barrier. After some thought, I came to the conclusion that the

pushing force in this world was much stronger because of the mana in the atmosphere, something that wasn't present back on Earth.

As I had once been a king who prided himself on his integrity, I decided to

apologize for this situation.

"I'm sorry, Mom, Dad. Am I in trouble?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I was so disoriented that I had

forgotten to talk like a three-year-old. Fortunately they didn't notice my slip

due to their shock.

"No, Art, honey, you're not in trouble. We were just worried about you. I'm

glad you're all right." There were tears in my mother's eyes, but she managed

to let out a soft chuckle.

My idiot father, on the other hand, was a lot more excited. "My boy is a

genius! Awakened before the age of three! This is unprecedented. I thought I

was fast, but this is on another level!"

That picture-perfect moment was broken when a neighbor rushed up,

shouting, "What in the world?"

"We'd better clean this mess up," my father said as he grinned, rubbing the

back of his head.

We decided to keep my awakening a secret. Within a few weeks, my father

had managed to contact members of his old adventuring party to help rebuild our decimated house while we stayed at the nearby inn. With conjurers razing

the ground for the foundation and augmenters doing the grunt work, the

house didn't take too long to finish. The beauty of magic!

Surprisingly, none of my father's former party members questioned why our

house had blown up. That seemed to say a lot about my father.

Spring came to an end midway through there construction of our house, and

along with it came my birthday. My parents woke me that morning with a

present, and my mother carried what seemed to be a loaf of bread in her

hands. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a cake. I opened the present

box to find a carefully carved wooden sword, and I hugged both my parents,

thanking them for the present and the cake.

The cake and the gift surprised me; my parents hadn't bothered to celebrate

my past two birthdays, so I had assumed this world didn't acknowledge them.

I later learned that birthdays are only celebrated beginning at the age of three.

It was a tradition from long ago, when babies frequently did not survive their

first three years.

How medieval.

Birthday celebrations weren't the only difference between this new world and

the world I was from, where children my age would have been getting ready

to start school. Seeing children as well as teens working on farms with their

family and in forges as apprentice blacksmiths made me realize there was no

mandatory, structured education system. Any sort of rudimentary education

the children received—the basics, like reading and writing—was provided by

their families.

As soon as I turned three, my mother began giving me regular lessons,

teaching me how to read and write. Playing the role of a prodigy, I pretended

to learn quickly, to her delight. This allowed me to read harder books in the

library without drawing suspicion.

These weeks after my awakening passed by in a blast.

My father taught me

the basics of mana, and how to start training in it, as best as he could. He tried to simplify as much as possible so a toddler could understand it. If my

cognitive abilities hadn't already been on the level of an adult, I don't think I

would've retained much, but I did manage to get the basics.

A mage's strength could be easily gauged by looking at the color of his or her

mana core. When a person first awakened, the mana core was black, due to

the body's blood and other impurities mixing with the mana particles as they

come together to form the core. As the mana inside the person's body became

purer and imperfections were filtered out, it changed to a dark red color. The

color continued to lighten as mana was distilled, going from black to red,

then orange, yellow, silver, and then white. The red, orange, and yellow stages each had three sub-stages, classified as 'dark,' 'solid,' and 'light.' As a

rule of thumb, the lighter the color of a person's mana core, the purer it was

and the more power they had access to.

While the lessons with my father proved useful, I was getting impatient with

the pace we were moving at. Within a few days of him beginning to teach

me, I asked my mother for books on magic.

My mother still had some connections in the Adventurers Guild, and she

managed to acquire a wide collection of books on basic mana manipulation

and on fighting with different weapons. Some of them were just picture

books with only simple words and illustrations of the basics of mana

condensation, but I ignored those. The books I'd been reading were a bit

more difficult, but it wasn't until I caught my mother giving me a strange

look that I'd realized just how advanced they were. She had brought in books

that she expected wouldn't be touched for at least a year and was perplexed

by my lack of interest in the simpler texts.

Most of my time was spent taking reading and writing lessons from Mother,

and augmenting training with my father. After he covered the basic theory

and application of augmenting, we started physical training. Since I was too

small to start sparring, we opted for running and body workouts. Seeing my three-year-old body trying to do a pushup must have been the funniest thing,but my father did a good job of holding back his laughter.

When I wasn't taking lessons from one of my parents, I usually stayed

cooped up in the newly remodeled library, reading and meditating to further

condense my mana core.

The year passed without much deviation from this routine. Then my father

spoke up one night while we were having dinner.

"Honey, I think it's time we get Art a proper mentor."