The Luminarch Spring, a vast, mystical pond, was located within the Duchy of Moonvale, near the border between Ardfell and Velmire. Overflowing with raw magical energy, it was a coveted source of mana, aura, and demonic power. Many sought it out, drawn by the promise of limitless power. However, its blessing came with a fatal curse, anyone who set foot in its waters would suffer an uncontrollable power surge. Their body, unable to contain the overwhelming energy, would explode upon contact.
To prevent chaos and avoid being discovered by greedy individuals, the royal family kept the Luminarch Spring a closely guarded secret, ensuring that only a select few, favored by the monarchy, had access to it. Arianna, the female lead, was one of those chosen.
Luke pondered this as he sat in deep thought. Unexpectedly, he found himself hovering in midair, maintaining a meditative pose.
'So, we've reincarnated into a branch family of the Velmire household, Elsher...' he mused. 'Not only that, but Velmire serves as a vassal to the Duke of Moonvale, Arianna's family. If we're not careful, we might meet her too soon. That could disrupt her life story... One thing to take note of.'
A grin spread across Luke's face. 'Still, if the Luminarch Spring is so close to Velmire's lands, maybe we can find it. Since our household is within Velmire's territory, we might have a chance. Who knows? It could make us stronger.'
Feeling the faint glow of mana pulsing in his lower abdomen, Luke decided he had gathered enough mana for the day. He shifted his hands from his knees, forming a gentle oval shape, thumbs touching lightly, a mudra-like stance.
Within him, the mana felt like a wild, burning sun. He envisioned reaching out to it, cupping it between his hands. It was tiny yet uncontrollable, buzzing with chaotic energy. Carefully, he pressed against it, urging it to settle. As he released his grip, the chaotic energy condensed into a calm, radiant sphere of light, still warm but now obedient.
With a deep sigh, Luke slowly descended from his hovering position, his body drenched in sweat and radiating warmth.
'Phew... so this is what it feels like to gather mana for the first time,' he thought, satisfied. 'It was tough, but now that I've passed the first stage, collecting mana should be much easier. It's kind of like that feeling after a long-distance run, you struggle at first, but once you push through, it becomes second nature.'
But what Luke had done was no simple exercise.
What he had just accomplished was a method of gathering mana that required entering a deep trance, allowing one's senses to expand and connect with the faint traces of mana around them. Mana naturally drifted from everything in nature, like air, wind, and even the small decorative plants in the room. They didn't hold much, barely specks, but for a beginner, they were the safest source to start with.
By focusing his mind until the world around him dimmed, Luke could sense those tiny particles of mana floating freely, like dust sparkling in sunlight. The method was simple in concept: draw the stray mana into your body, just like a vacuum pulling in dust.
But the danger came afterward.
Once inside the body, mana became aggressive and violent, as if displeased with being captured. If not controlled quickly, it would rampage through the body until it tore the user apart from the inside.
This was why no one taught it to babies because babies had no control, no discipline, and no sense of danger. Even child prodigies couldn't do it, so how could a baby? If anyone found out Luke was doing it at his age, they wouldn't call him a prodigy.
They'd call him a monster.
And Luke knew that. In fact, this entire method was so common that it was practically a standard power system format for anyone wanting to write fantasy. Nearly 90% of manga, manhwa, and manhua use the same method of gathering mana into the body for magic. Of course, not all of them are exactly the same, but this method has become almost a cliché, a typical format in fantasy writing.
'I want to test my magic right now!' Luke thought excitedly.
He focused, imagining something emerging from his fingertips. Instantly, thin, shimmering strands of light began to form, fluttering gently in the air.
'Ooh! Pretty~' Luke exclaimed inwardly, eyes gleaming with excitement. He quickly conjured more strands from his other fingers and then connected them between both hands.
'I wonder if I can make them detach?'
The moment that thought crossed his mind, the glowing strings unraveled from his fingertips and drifted to the ground, turning into thin, glittering silver threads, delicate as strands of hair. Luke picked one up and began playing with it, tugging and twirling it around his fingers.
'Cool~'
Then, an idea struck him.
'Wait! If I can make strings come out of my fingers... can I be like Spider-Man?'
Grinning, Luke extended his hand, curling his middle and ring fingers inward while keeping his index and pinky fingers raised, the iconic Spider-Man pose. He stretched out his thumb and focused.
'Sticky string, sticky string, sticky string... please come out~!'
Closing his eyes tightly, he imagined a thin yet extremely sticky string shooting from his wrist.
Then—
SPLAT!
A wet, splattering sound echoed through the room, just like Spider-Man's web-shooters. Luke's eyes snapped open, and his face lit up with pure excitement.
'OH, HELL YES!'
From his wrist, a string coated in thick, sticky glue stretched up to the ceiling. But as he examined it more closely, his enthusiasm dropped.
'Wait... It's just a string dripping with glue. Ew.' He poked at the gooey mess, watching it drip endlessly onto the floor. Suddenly, the string peeled off the ceiling and dropped.
'Ugh, and it doesn't even stick for long.' Luke sighed in disappointment.
Determined, he clenched his fists.
'I have to practice more. No! I have to make it even better! My string needs to be thin, incredibly sticky, and razor-sharp. That could be useful for self-defense in the future.'
Just as he set his new goal, a sudden noise interrupted his thoughts.
Chak, chak, chak.
The rattling sound of a baby's toy echoed through the nursery. Luke turned toward the source—his twin sister, Lysandra, was sitting on the floor near the entrance, shaking her toy rattle.
His breath hitched. A warning. Someone was coming!
Quickly, Luke suppressed his mana to the bare minimum. A baby wasn't supposed to have even a trace of mana yet.
The nursery door swung open, revealing their nanny, Sophia, now their personal maid.
"OH MY GOD!!!" Sophia gasped in alarm as her eyes landed on Lysandra sitting on the floor.
Lysandra, ever the actress, simply let out a cheerful babyish giggle, playing her role perfectly.
'Ugh, I hate this...' she thought bitterly, feeling her dignity crumble little by little every day.
"Young Lady! Why are you—no, how did you even get out of the cradle again?!" Sophia exclaimed, rushing over and carrying Lysandra up with worry.
"You'll catch a cold if you play on the floor." She gently scolded before placing Lysandra back into the cradle. "I'll go prepare your meals now, Young Master, Young Lady."
With that, Sophia moved toward the small kitchen area in the corner of the nursery.
Luke's eyes sparkled with excitement.
'Now's my chance!'
Determined, he concentrated as hard as he could, attempting thought communication.
His face puffed up, his cheeks turned red, his eyes squeezed shut, his fists clenched tightly, his body shivered, and even his butt tensed up from the strain.
Lysandra, noticing his bizarre expression, furrowed her brows.
'Does he need to poop? Damn, that must be a big one.' she thought, pitying him. She had been there before, and with how tiny baby bodies were, dealing with a big, stubborn poop was like trying to push out a rock.
Then—
(SHIT!)
A voice echoed inside her head.
Lysandra froze, her eyes darting around in confusion.
'A boy? I thought we were the only children in this household?' She scanned the room suspiciously.
Luke's grin widened.
(Hey! Lysa! Can you hear me? Testing!)
Lysandra flinched when she heard her nickname, staring at Luke in shock.
'Did... did he just talk to me?'
Luke smirked.
(Looks like my telepathy magic worked!)
Lysandra narrowed her eyes.
'So that's what he was doing just now...?'
(Hehe, cool, right?)
Luke says telepathically to Lysandra, a big grin spreading across his face. Lysandra rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. A clear sign for Luke to hurry up with whatever he wants to say.
(This is a one-way communication, so yeah, you can't reply back to me. You really need to hurry up and learn telepathy magic. It'll make things way more convenient for us later.)
Lysandra simply nods in response to Luke's advice.
(So, I've made a plan for our future. Just nod or shake your head if you agree or disagree, okay?)
Lysandra nods again.
(I plan for us to master magic — no, go beyond the limits of human potential in magic by the time we're adults! We'll study and train using all the knowledge we've absorbed from manga and manhwa. Don't limit yourself to just the magic system in the world of 'Fuck You, Bad Ending!' We'll use everything we've ever read. I know it sounds impossible, but we have to do it. I don't know if we'll survive later if we get caught up in a war with the demon-worshipping' cult. So... what's your decision?)
Luke furrows his brows in a cute yet serious expression. Lysandra watches him, listening to his thoughts, and thinks to herself:
'His serious baby face makes it hard to take him seriously.'
Trying to suppress her laughter, she nods again.
'Well, I've been thinking the same thing.'
(If you agree, then I say we aim for 10 mana circles. Since reaching 8 circles makes you an Archmage, hitting 10 would mean we've transcended humanity. We have to reach transcendence to guarantee our survival.)
Luke says this with an intense stare. Lysandra nods once more.
'It'll be tough, but with all the knowledge we've gained from fantasy manga and manhwa, we can at least reach 7 circles,' she thinks.
(And I also think we should master every weapon technique. So, iiiif possible, I want us to become weapon masters by the time we're 15.)
At that, Lysandra raises an eyebrow.
'Now that's an impossible goal. I get that mastering magic is doable if you've got the knowledge, but mastering all weapon techniques takes insane willpower and stamina,' she thinks, giving Luke a long stare. Luke sighs, understanding the meaning behind it.
(I know it's way more unrealistic than mastering magic, so let's just set it as a goal. If we can only master half the weapon techniques, that's fine too. You never know, there could be skills or techniques that nullify magic, so having martial arts and weapon knowledge is a must.)
Lysandra sighs inwardly, then shrugs and nods.
'Well, that's the future-us problem,' she thinks. Luke beams with delight.
(Alright! Since you agree, I'll be the leader, and you have to follow me. I'm officially ordering that we reach 5 mana circles by the time we turn 9.)
Lysandra twitches with frustration.
'What does that have to do with you being my leader?! WTF!'
Luke smirks.
(Heh, of course I'm the leader! I learned telepathy magic before you and I made the plan, so obviously, I'm in charge. I bet you're cursing me out right now, but too bad, you can't reply yet.)
'This motherfucker! Just you wait — once I learn telepathy magic, I'll curse you nonstop until your ears bleed!'
**********
5 Years Later...
Clang, clang, clang!
The sharp rhythm of swords clashing echoed across the training grounds. The sun blazed fiercely overhead, yet not a single knight of House Elsher faltered in their drills. Sweat poured freely, steel rang without pause, and discipline reigned above discomfort.
Under the shade of a modest wooden shack, Luke sat silently, watching. His eyes were first fixed on the knights, admiring their precision, then gradually, they shifted to a small figure at the edge of the field.
A girl, no older than five, was swinging a wooden sword with fierce determination. Her short turquoise hair clung to her flushed cheeks, her tiny arms trembling with exertion, yet she refused to stop.
How is she not collapsing from the heat? Luke wondered, his brows knitting in concern. Even I'm sweating just sitting here... and yet she's been swinging that thing for an hour. Does she not feel the heat, or does she simply not care?
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the clamor.
"Young Master!"
A woman in her thirties strode briskly across the grounds, her maid's dress gathered in her hands to avoid tripping. Her loose ponytail bounced wildly with every step as she hurried toward the shack, her face lined with frustration.
"Young Master Luke, I warned you not to come out here in such dreadful heat!" she scolded, once close enough. "You'll risk heatstroke if you sit under this sun for too long. You may observe the knights another day when the weather is kinder."
Her name tag gleamed faintly under the sunlight: Sophia.
Sophia turned toward the training ground, her eyes quickly scanning the field. They landed on the familiar sight of a little girl trying unsuccessfully to sneak away unnoticed.
"Young Lady Lysandra!" Sophia barked, her tone sharpening. "How many times must I tell you! No, sword training until you're older!"
Lysandra froze, her attempt to escape foiled. With an exaggerated pout, she hurled the wooden sword to the ground.
"Hmph! This is so unfair!" she snapped.
"Don't give me that attitude," Sophia said sternly, storming toward her. "Act with the grace befitting a young noblewoman!"
"Then I don't want to be a noblewoman!" Lysandra shot back. "Mother is one, and she doesn't act like that!"
In a flash, Sophia pinched Lysandra's cheeks.
"Ow! Sophia!" Lysandra wailed, swatting her hands. She swung a tiny fist in retaliation, but Sophia deftly caught her wrist and lifted her arm high, leaving the small girl dangling off the ground by her stubby feet.
"That's what you get, Young Lady. I've warned you, disobedience earns discipline," Sophia sighed, clearly exhausted by Lysandra's daily antics.
"You dare suspend a noble lady in the air like some rag doll!?" Lysandra huffed, kicking uselessly at the air.
"If you behaved like a noble lady, I wouldn't have to," Sophia retorted, setting her down with a final sigh. "Besides, your mother gave me permission to be strict when needed."
"I'm not stopping you from learning the sword, Young Lady," she added more gently, "but it's far too early. You'll begin formal training at ten, just as your mother did."
"But that's not fair! Boys start at seven! Why must we girls wait until ten? That's so sexist!"
Sophia's expression twisted in horror. "Young Lady! You mustn't speak such vulgar words!"
"I don't care!" Lysandra snapped, crossing her arms.
"Girls begin training later because they must first learn proper etiquette and comportment as noblewomen. It's the nobles' tradition."
"But the earlier you start, the better you become! I want to be even greater than Mother!"
Sophia opened her mouth to reply, but a calm, commanding voice interrupted them.
"Don't tire yourself arguing with her, Sophia. Our little Lysa always insists on having the last word."
Sophia turned and gasped. "My Lady!"
She immediately curtsied as Jenessa, tall and elegant in her sharp military uniform, approached with a faint smile. She waved a hand, signaling for Sophia to relax.
"Mother!" Lysandra cheered, rushing forward to wrap her arms around Jenessa's leg.
Jenessa gently patted her daughter's head. "Lysa, my dear, why are you causing Sophia such grief? A noble should never overburden those who serve them."
Lysandra rubbed her face against her mother's leg and muttered, "Sorry..."
Jenessa gave a weary sigh. "Now, tell me, are you truly this eager to wield a sword at your age?"
"Yes!" Lysandra beamed. "And not just swords! I want to master all kinds of weapons!"
"Oh?" Jenessa raised an eyebrow. "Such ambition from such a tiny warrior."
"Me too, Mother," Luke chimed in suddenly from behind.
"You as well, Luke? Though I can't say I've seen you train nearly as often as your sister."
Luke flinched. "W-Well, the heat's been rather unbearable lately, so I've taken a short break... unlike that reckless idiot who doesn't care if she collapses from heat stroke."
Jenessa chuckled and ruffled his hair. "If both of you are so determined, then I shall arrange proper tutors for your training."
"R-Really? You mean we can start early?" Lysandra asked, her eyes gleaming.
Jenessa paused. "Yes, but... only if you both promise to excel in your other studies. Swordplay alone does not make a noble."
Luke and Lysandra looked at each other, hesitating, then nodded reluctantly.
"Are you certain? It will not be easy," Jenessa warned. "You'll need to keep up with etiquette, history, economics, and philosophy, just like any proper noble child. Adding sword training on top of that will make it an exhausting learning journey for both of you."
"I don't care how hard it is," Luke declared. "We're serious about this. Right, Lysa?"
"...Yeah," Lysandra mumbled, still fiddling with her mother's boots.
Jenessa raised a brow. "You'll attend your etiquette classes without complaint?"
"Fine! I'll be diligent!" Lysandra snapped, blushing.
"Good. Then I'll expect both of you to honor your word. Sophia will keep me informed."
The twins nodded in unison.
"Well then," Jenessa smiled. "Now that we've settled that, go clean yourselves up. Your grandmother will be visiting shortly."
"Grandmother?" Luke and Lysandra echoed in unison, turning to face each other with matching expressions of confusion.