But soon, even that wonder faded. The boy grew bored of walking aimlessly and instead moved toward the bookshelves again, his round fingers tracing the worn edges of spellbooks.
He was barely two years old, yet he preferred the company of parchment over toys. The servants whispered among themselves, marveling at how he already displayed his mother's intellect and perhaps even more so.
"Our son really is smart," Edward said one afternoon, standing by the balcony of their second floor. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, but the pride in his voice softened his rough hands.
Bella, sitting beside him with a book in her lap, smiled faintly. "We should start thinking about which school to send him to when he's older. He'll need proper guidance if he's to reach his full potential."
"You're right," Edward replied. "Currently, the Seen School is the best in our district. But let's wait until he reaches the Official age before we make any decisions. I want to see him grow near us."
While they spoke about his future, Kelvin sat cross-legged on the floor below like a grown man, fully absorbed in a thick tome titled The Foundations of Mana and Core Evolution. He read slowly, mouthing each word with concentrated determination.
"All humans… are born with a Mana core… in their mind consciousness ," he whispered to himself, his tiny brows furrowed in thought. "It… chooses… the element."
In this world, every person was born connected to mana. Ninety-five percent of the population had affinity to the common elements, while three to four percent wielded rare elements . Even rarer were the dual-element wilder, capable of controlling more than one type. while some can wield unique elements.
Kelvin stared at the page, the words reflecting in his wide, curious eyes.
"Wow, magic is so cool," he murmured. "I wonder what kind of core I have…"
He turned the page eagerly, scanning the diagrams of mana flow, glyphs, and elemental resonance. "Hmm… the book doesn't say how to see which core you have. Maybe Mom knows."
A small grin spread across his face as he returned to reading, undeterred. For a two-year-old, it was remarkable achievement but for Kelvin, it felt completely natural, as though he had been born to learn.
Whenever Bella returned from her guild missions, she spent every moment she could with him, carefully nurturing his budding curiosity. Even after a long day of traveling or negotiations, she would kneel by the books, guiding his small hands over letters and runes, her fingers brushing his gently as she whispered explanations.
One bright morning, Bella brought Kelvin to the fountain in the front courtyard. Sunlight glinted off the water's surface, scattering rainbows in every direction.
"Mom! Look how it dances! Can I catch a drop?" Kelvin exclaimed, clapping his tiny hands.
"Not yet, darling," Bella laughed, gently pulling him back. "We learn as we watch. That's enough for today."
Even in these small, playful moments, Kelvin observed everything, the ripples of water, the birds, the way light reflected off the water. Bella watched him silently, smiling to herself. 'This boy, so young and yet so sharp' was a blessing she cherished deeply. But as serene as the mansion seemed, peace was always temporary.
One day, Bella was away on a particularly taxing guild mission. She had been working tirelessly to support Edward's dream of becoming a spellbinder Weapon refiner a craftsman capable of forging weapon that can kill higher rank beast than its own .
In her absence, Michael took charge of Kelvin's care. He was more than a servant; he was family. A tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties, his presence radiated strength. Scars ran across his forearms like faded memories of old wars, hinting at the battles he had endured.
"The Everlong home is all I've got left," Michael had once said, his voice steady and quiet, "and I'll guard it like my own life."
Now, within the walls of the Everlong mansion, Michael's vigilance had shifted. He was not facing wild beasts but a child whose curiosity and energy were boundless and whose potential could one day rival the fiercest warriors of the kingdom.
"Kelvin, careful near the fireplace," Michael warned one afternoon, catching the boy's hand just as he reached for a flickering candle.
"Don't worry, Uncle Michael! I'm careful," Kelvin said, giggling.
"You're growing fast, little one," Michael said, ruffling his dark hair. "Soon you'll be running the house like a little storm, mark my words."
Kelvin's eyes lit up. "I want to see the mana in the forge! Can I, Uncle?"
Michael hesitated, knowing Edward would want the boy shielded from the molten metal and flying sparks. "Not today… but soon, when your legs are steadier, and you understand the rules."
Even so, Kelvin's fascination with magic and knowledge grew by the day. He would crawl after Michael through the hallways, pausing to examine strange objects or to try stacking small blocks and toys in precise patterns. Michael observed quietly, realizing that the child's mind worked in ways far beyond normal toddlers.
"You're no ordinary child, Kelvin," Michael said one evening, watching as the boy traced his fingers over the pattern of a magical glyph drawn on a page. "You'll need more than me to guide you. Keep learning, little one."
...........................
The Everlong household was unusually quiet. Bella had left early that morning for a guild assignment that would keep her away until dawn. Edward was locked in the forge, hammering away at a new commission. Kelvin sat cross-legged on his bed, absorbed in a thick book about mana cycle theory despite having no mana of his own at his age.
The only sound was the gentle rustling of pages… until something else shatter the peace.
A faint shift in the air, almost like someone brushing past the leaves in a forest, tickled Kelvin's senses. His little head lifted from the book. Curiosity outweighed fear. He slowly closed the tome.
Step.
He looked toward the window. Nothing.
Step.
When he turned back toward the door, A man dressed in tight black clothing, a mask covering his face, eyes cold as winter frost, stood there like death. The assassin's presence radiated danger, but Kelvin did not scream. He only blinked, his wide eyes innocent yet unflinching.
"Who… are you?" he asked softly.