Power was never meant for the obedient.
And Ryan was never meant to obey.
While other children dreamed of serving the kingdom,
Ryan dreamed of ruling it.
From the moment he could remember, survival was never his goal.
Power was.
Wealth.
Authority.
And one day—the throne itself.
Born into a poor family of novice sorcerers, Ryan should have learned humility.
Instead, he learned hunger.
Not the hunger of an empty stomach—but the hunger of ambition.
The bells of the School of Sorcery rang across the Kingdom of Life, their echoes spilling through stone towers and marble courtyards.
Children rushed inside, laughter dancing in the air.
Sparks of magic flickered everywhere—tiny flames dancing on fingertips, wind spirits twirling playfully, trails of glowing light following excited footsteps.
They were the future of the kingdom.
And they knew it.
Ryan walked among them in silence.
A leather-bound book rested against his chest. His dark hair fell into his eyes, hiding the calm, unreadable expression he always wore.
To the others, he looked ordinary.
Polite.
Maybe even weak.
"Still can't summon a flame?" a boy whispered—loud enough to be heard.
"Maybe he never will. His parents barely know magic either."
Snickers followed.
Ryan didn't react.
He lowered his gaze, tightened his grip on the book, and kept walking.
Silence followed him—heavy, oppressive… watching.
Inside the classroom, the instructor's voice echoed:
"Magic is not merely power—it is duty.
Your gift binds you to this kingdom.
Honor it, and the kingdom will honor you."
The children nodded eagerly.
Magic bloomed across the room.
Light.
Warmth.
Wonder.
Ryan remained still.
Watching.
Not with envy—
but calculation.
Then the voice came again.
"Ryan. Step forward."
All eyes turned toward him.
Ryan moved calmly, lifting his hand with deliberate control.
He whispered the incantation.
For a heartbeat—nothing.
Then a flicker.
A thin shimmer of shadow curled around his fingertips, dark and unfamiliar… before vanishing.
Silence crashed down.
Not disappointment.
Something worse.
Unease.
Ryan stared at his empty hand.
So this is what they call weakness?
No.
This… is the beginning.
The instructor exhaled slowly.
"You lack focus, Ryan. A sorcerer cannot master everything."
Ryan bowed his head respectfully.
"Yes, teacher."
But inside, a storm awakened.
Why master one path…
when I can command them all?
Not out of pride—
but certainty.
The world was built on limits.
He was not.
That evening, Ryan walked home alone.
Other students traveled in laughing groups, comparing spells and dreams.
Ryan walked in silence.
The wind whispered through the wheat fields, brushing against him like unseen fingers.
He felt it again.
That pull.
That promise.
There is power they don't teach us.
He looked toward the horizon, where the sun bled gold behind distant mountains.
One day… they'll see.
Home greeted him with warm candlelight and the scent of herbs and healing magic.
His parents smiled—tired, gentle, proud.
"You did well today," his mother said softly.
Ryan hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yes, Mother."
His father chuckled.
"You've always been disciplined. Even if your magic isn't strong, the kingdom will always have a place for you."
A place.
A small life.
Ryan lowered his gaze.
They dream of peace…
but I was never born for peace.
"I'll make you proud," he said.
The words felt hollow.
Graduation day arrived beneath banners of green and gold.
Families cheered. Nobles watched. Royal envoys observed with sharp, silent eyes.
Ryan stepped forward when his name was called.
No flames.
No lightning.
No spectacle.
Only a faint wisp of shadow… gone in an instant.
"A talentless one," someone murmured.
Ryan bowed.
Let them believe it.
Power grows best in silence.
That night, while fireworks lit the capital sky, Ryan packed a small bag.
At the doorway, he paused.
Laughter echoed behind him.
For a moment… he could stay.
Then he turned away.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
"I was never meant to live small."
The wind answered.
By dawn, the Academy was in chaos.
Seals shattered.
Chains undone.
Forbidden scrolls—gone.
A single name burned red on the list.
Ryan.
But it was too late.
At the edge of the unknown world, Ryan smiled faintly.
"One day… they'll kneel."
Power wasn't calling him.
It was following him.