I was reborn.
In this life, my father is Count Rontide Monarch, my mother is Lady Ranasheri, and my name is Lyde. We are just another noble family—or so it seemed.
From a young age, I noticed everyone around me could wield magic. Realizing I was in another world, I eagerly awaited the day I, too, could cast spells. On my sixth birthday, that moment finally arrived. My father stood before me, serious and determined, ready to teach me magic.
"First, feel the mana inside your body," he instructed. I focused and found a warm energy deep within me. "Now, bring it to your fingertips." Slowly but surely, I channeled it through my body. So far, so good.
"Light. Cast Light." My father demonstrated, creating a glowing orb in his hand. I mimicked him, reciting the same words, but nothing happened. Confused, I tried again—and failed. My father's face twisted in disappointment as he used a detection spell, analyzing my mana.
"Your pronunciation is correct, and the mana flow is flawless… But you can't convert mana into phenomena. You're... what we call a 'Magicless One.' A rare but tragic curse." He sighed, a bitter look crossing his face. "As of today, your half-brother Plink will be the heir."
And just like that, my future shattered.
From that moment, everything changed. My mother was sent back to her family in disgrace for birthing a "defective" child, and I was given my brother's old clothes—oversized and worn. My meals dwindled, and I became nothing more than a burden. But instead of despairing, I turned my attention to the one thing I could control: mana manipulation.
Even if I couldn't cast spells, I could still move mana within me. With nowhere else to turn, I dedicated myself to refining this ability. Day by day, I practiced, circulating mana through my body faster and faster. A whole year passed, and my progress was undeniable—though it wouldn't stop the torment.
"Hey, useless brother!" Plink sneered, glaring down at me. "You're going to be my target practice."
"No," I said flatly. The boy's pudgy face turned red with anger.
"I am the heir! You will obey me!" he roared, summoning a small fireball and hurling it toward me. It was slow—pathetically so—and I dodged with ease.
But that only enraged him further. "Catch him!" Plink barked, and the servants seized me, tying me to a post.
A second fireball hit me square in the chest, searing my skin. "Gah!" I hissed as the burning pain spread through my body. Plink's laughter echoed in my ears. "Serves you right for being prettier than me!" he jeered.
I was left tied up, the searing pain pulsating through my body. Just as I was on the verge of passing out, a familiar voice called out.
"Lyde! Who did this to you?" My fiancée, Karina, rushed to my side. She was only seven years old but carried herself with the grace of someone far beyond her years. Her twin tails bounced as she approached, concern etched on her face.
"My brother," I muttered weakly.
Karina frowned but said nothing. Instead, she pulled a potion from her pouch and poured it over my burns. The pain ebbed away instantly.
"Thank you," I whispered, grateful.
"I'll come visit every day from now on," she said, determination burning in her young eyes.
"You don't have to. Staying around me will only cause trouble."
Karina's smile was unwavering. "Then I'll make you my test subject. I want to master healing magic, and you'll help me."
I laughed, despite the pain. "Fine. I'm already a test subject. Might as well be yours."
She untied me, and as the ropes fell away, I made a vow to myself. I would survive—for her. I wouldn't let Plink or anyone else take me down. I didn't need magic to fight back. I only needed my mana manipulation.
With no money for armor and no spells to protect me, mana manipulation was my only weapon. But I wouldn't let that stop me. If I could master it, I could make it my shield. Plink wouldn't kill me, and neither would anyone else.
I would live. And someday, I'd take back everything they stole from me.