The sun hadn't even fully risen when I jolted awake. Eyes darting around the room. Empty
Phew. Master Kael isn't here yet.
Thank the gods.
After two weeks here, I'd learned my survival strategy: wake up early. If I didn't, Kael would "kindly" dump a bucket of freezing water on my head. He called it discipline. I called it torture.
I rolled out of bed, got dressed quickly, and shuffled toward the kitchen.
" Breakfast first."
Kael's cooking was… how do I put this… consistent. As in, consistently the same. Same soup, same bread, all three meals. It wasn't bad, exactly—it was just the same kind of misery every single day. If I wanted to survive without going insane, I had to cook.
I opened the cupboard. Inside: a loaf of bread, a few eggs, carrots, onions, and tomatoes. Not much, but enough.
"Sandwich it is."
I set to work. Slice the veggies thin. Crack two eggs into a pan, season with a pinch of salt and pepper, fry them sunny side up. Toss in a dab of butter, toast the bread until it is crisped golden.
Assembly: bread slice, veggies, fried egg with the yolk still glowing, top slice. Press down, cut it in half. The yolk dripped beautifully, soaking into the bread.
"Not bad for a five-year-old."
Well, okay. In my previous life, I was basically a pro at survival cooking. Living alone teaches you things like how to make a week's worth of meals.
I set it down on the dining table. "Master Kael! Breakfast is ready!"
The shadows in the room quivered, and Kael literally stepped out of the darkness like some horror movie monster. Red eyes gleaming, expression calm, like he hadn't just crawled out of hell.
He sat down. "What's on the menu today, chef?"
"Sandwich."
He bit into it without hesitation. His brows rose. "Oh. This is… excellent."
Another bite. "Truly excellent. It still amazes me how you cook like some noble chef. Weren't you complaining the other week that you were 'only five'?"
I coughed into my fist. "Yes, well… circumstances change."
I couldn't exactly tell him that where I came from, these foods were just normal meals. Nope.
After breakfast, we stepped outside into the courtyard.
The place was still half-overgrown, wild grass brushing our legs, tree branches arching over like twisted arms. It was eerie, but it had become my training ground.
"Warm-ups first," Kael ordered.
My warm-ups go like this: first mana spreading, then a short break, followed by mana pooling.
After another break, I move on to mana sensing—rinse and repeat.
Two weeks here, and I'd gotten decent with the basics. Not mastered, but decent.
My Mana bubble could now last longer, bigger than before, about the size of a small ball.
Mana spreading—I could keep a thin stream flowing for thirty seconds before collapsing.
Mana sensing—still shaky, but I could feel and sense a different mana signature within two meters.
Progress. Slow, painful, but progress.
Kael watched with his usual detached interest, arms folded. "Good. Now we'll do something different today."
I perked up instantly. "Different?"
"Yes. We begin spell work."
Finally! Real magic spells!
"What do you know about spells, Lucian?" Kael asked, his tone sharp.
"Spells are magic that uses mana to perform."
Kael closed his eyes and sighed, long and dramatic, like I'd personally offended him. "That's the definition you feed toddlers. Spells aren't just 'mana tricks.' Spells are mediums that shape through which mana becomes elemental phenomena or Arcane. They depend on your attributes, your imagination, and your control. For me, shadow."
He raised his hand, and shadows swirled together, twisting into the shape of a perfect black rose. Its petals shimmered with an eerie sheen, thorns sharp as daggers.
"This," Kael said, turning it slowly between his fingers, "isn't something you'll find in any textbooks. Spells aren't copied recipes. They're imagination, given form. If you can picture it clearly enough—and pay the mana cost—you can create anything."
I swallowed hard. He tossed that shadow trick out like it was nothing.
Then his eyes flicked to me. "I hear you've already played around with a spell."
My chest tightened. "Just… fireball. That's all I know."
"That is fine. Since we don't know what kind of attributes you have other than fire we will only focus on fire magic. I want you to focus now. Imagine. Visualize. Do not just conjure a fireball. Create something new. Whatever your mind can shape."
I swallowed hard. "Anything?"
"Yes."
Okay, think. Fire. What can fire be? Flames? Explosions? Too plain.
What do I actually like? Video games. …No, no way I'm summoning a flaming console.
Creatures, then. Fire creature… The obvious choice: a phoenix. Yeah, a majestic fiery bird, perfect.
I closed my eyes. Concentrated. Visualized feathers, long flaming tail, sharp beak. Glowing wings. A majestic bird.
When I opened my eyes, a tiny bird of flame hovered above my palm. Small as a sparrow, but its wings flickered like embers.
Kael leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Interesting. That bird… it resembles the mythical phoenix."
"Hehe," I grinned, proud.
Then—poof.
The bird vanished in a puff of smoke. My knees buckled, dizziness crashing down.
"You alright?" Kael asked, brow arched.
"Y-yeah. Just… dizzy." I glanced at my status in secret. MP: 340 → 120. My jaw dropped. That tiny bird had eaten more mana than ten fireballs.
A prompt chimed in my head.
Congratulations! You have gained a new skill: [Magic Construct].
I froze. "A… skill?" Already?
But Kael's voice snapped me back. "It is normal. You poured too much detail into the construct. For attack spells, detail is wasteful. A silhouette suffices."
"Oh…" I mumbled, trying not to look as sheepish as I felt.
He waved me off. "Don't pout. For a first attempt, it's impressive. You've got imagination, at least." Then, he turned toward the mansion. "We'll continue after lunch."
I dropped heavily onto the grass, wiping sweat from my forehead. My stomach rumbled. Ugh. I have to make lunch too..
Later that night, I flicked open my status screen.
And there it was: [Magic Construct].
I frowned. That wasn't right. Kael said it was a spell. But the System… it recognized it as a skill.
Why?
Was there a discrepancy between what this world thought magic was, and what it actually was? My head hurt trying to figure it out.
I also still hadn't allocated any of my stat points. Honestly, I was afraid to. What if I spent them wrong? What if I needed them later? No—better to hoard them like a true gamer until I really, really needed them.
I shut the screen, pulled the blanket up to my chin, and let out a long breath.
"Magic is confusing…" I muttered, before sleep pulled me under.