It was almost midday, the sun hanging high above the horizon, casting its golden rays across the grassy field where I sat. The morning had already been spent testing the limits of my curse, but there was still more I wanted to try—something that had been lingering in my thoughts for a while now.
Risu, however, had other concerns.
When I told her I planned to skip lunch to continue training, she immediately objected.
"Even if you're part ghoul and don't need to eat as often, you still need food to grow properly," she scolded, her arms crossed as she stood in front of me.
She wasn't wrong, but arguing about it would only waste more time.
"How about this?" I said after some thought. "You can bring the lunch here while I keep training."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She clearly didn't like the idea, especially since leaving meant parting from me.
"What if something happens while I'm gone?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "We may be in the royal forest, and there are guards patrolling, but you—"
"I know, I know," I interrupted, raising a hand to stop her from continuing. "But I'll be fine. Besides, it's not like I'm running off anywhere."
She still didn't look convinced, so I spent another few minutes reassuring her before she reluctantly agreed.
"Don't overdo it," she warned before finally leaving.
Once she was gone, I turned my attention back to what had been occupying my mind all morning—matter.
From what I knew, everything in existence was made of matter. It was something that had mass and volume—it weighed something and took up space.
But beyond that, matter was composed of particles.
I opened my status screen, staring at the affinity section.
My eyes lingered on the word. Matter.
How exactly was I supposed to use this?
I let my thoughts race as I sat there in silence.
Particles…
Could I manipulate the particles themselves?
It seemed possible, didn't it? After all, mana could be converted into elemental energy through magic circles.
Mana was like fuel—an energy source that could be transformed into fire, earth, or wind, depending on the spell. That transformation was guided by the patterns within the circle, turning raw mana into an elemental output.
But what if I didn't follow the normal process?
What if I didn't use a magic circle at all?
What if I directly converted mana into particles instead?
The idea made my heart race.
If I could do this—if I could break mana down into the building blocks of matter—the possibilities would be endless.
I clenched my fists, my pulse quickening as the excitement built.
Without wasting another moment, I focused inward.
Drawing mana from my mana heart, I directed it through my mana veins—the circuits I had formed and refined during my earlier training.
I pictured a proton—a fundamental particle, positively charged.
And then it happened.
I felt it.
It wasn't something I could see with my eyes, but I could sense it—a single, tiny point of energy suspended in the air before me.
A proton.
I sat there, motionless, my breath caught in my throat.
I thought it would take time—or at least come with some difficulties. But to my surprise, I could just… do it.
Maybe it was because of my affinities that it felt so natural. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, I wasn't going to question it too much.
Satisfied with this discovery, I decided to push further.
This time, I focused on creating an electron—a negative charge.
With the same method as before, I began molding raw mana, envisioning the particle. It didn't resist, almost as if my thoughts alone guided the process.
I clenched my palm, holding both the proton and the electron I had formed.
'Let's take the next step.'
An image flashed in my mind—a simple structure from my previous world. One proton. One electron. Hydrogen.
It was something so fundamental that even common folk in my old world had at least heard of it. A building block of existence.
Using mana conversion, I carefully merged the particles.
'Come on, work.'
I visualized their bond, their orbit—the harmony that made them stable. Then I felt it.
The corners of my lips twitched upward.
I couldn't see it, couldn't even describe it, but I knew it was there. I could sense it—the weight, the energy. My instincts told me what it was without needing to look.
Hydrogen.
It was like recognizing someone in a crowd, even without turning your head. You just knew. It wasn't about sight but understanding.
And that realization hit me like a slap to the face.
This whole process—the particles, the atoms—it was the opposite of my interactions with woman. I could see them, hear them, know what they looked like… and yet I rarely understood them.
But this? These particles?
I couldn't see them, couldn't grasp their appearance, but I understood them completely. I knew their structure, their behavior, their identity.
It was a strange and almost poetic contrast.
I shook my head and refocused.
'One step at a time.'
Now that I had created a hydrogen atom, it was time to take the next leap—a molecule, water molecule.
To do that, I needed oxygen atom.
I sat back, fingers tapping my knee as I tried to recall what I could from my past life's knowledge.
'Oxygen… was it five protons? Or was it six?'
The numbers blurred in my memory. I couldn't be sure.
"Well, only one way to find out."
I spoke aloud, more to fill the silence than anything else. Then I dove back in.
I molded mana again, piecing together particles.
Five protons, five neutrons, and five electrons.
The result was unstable—like a faint hum on the edge of collapse.
Not it.
I tweaked the numbers. Four, five, and six this time.
Another failure.
But instead of frustration, I felt even more excited.
It wasn't just discovery—it was creation.
I adjusted again. Five protons, six neutrons, and five electrons.
This time, it stabilized.
Not oxygen, but—
Boron.
I paused, committing the combination to memory.
"Boron, huh…"
I took a moment to think, trying to dredge up more information from my past life. But the details felt too faint, too scattered.
Trying to force the memories felt pointless.
'If I can't recall it, then I'll figure it out myself.'
Rather than getting stuck, I decided to experiment.
Follow your instincts.
"Let's try six, six, six this time."
I molded the mana again.
The result stabilized immediately.
Carbon.
I smiled faintly. At least I was learning something. Even the failures were worth recording.
Next.
Seven, seven, seven.
Nitrogen.
My breath steadied, my focus tightening with each attempt. I could feel myself improving—refining the process with every success.
Then I reached eight.
Protons, neutrons, and electrons. Eight each.
The structure snapped into place.
I froze.
Something about it felt different. Stable. Powerful.
I raised my eyebrows slightly as excitement welled up inside me.
"There we go."