The Reincarnated Slave Mage's First Glimpse of Freedom
I was once a completely ordinary modern person who had lived through the civilization of the 21st century.
After being reborn into this world, my status became that of a war mage born of lowly origins.
Born beneath the river of oblivion, most memories lost, and cast into the slave class no better than commoners, I entered the world through my mother.
Thanks to an unexpected talent for magic, I was forced to study it under the greedy noble who had taken my mother against her will.
However, the only magic I could learn were those from grimoire ranked as the lowest, capable of nothing beyond escape or even the dream of rebellion.
Even the final safety measure prepared for any contingency had been embedded around my neck—an enslavement spell that compelled me to obey its commands unconditionally.
Disobedience would tighten the black tattoo on my neck with every passing second, gradually choking me until my throat was severed.
It was the type of binding magic that would end my life without fail.
Studying magic required reading and mastering grimoire, a universal norm in this world.
The grimoire given to me were all of the lowest tier, intended solely for wartime use, so I had no choice but to act as a slave, a mere puppet, following orders exactly.
Yet, to me, the only source of joy was that, contrary to expectations, I actually enjoyed learning magic.
Magic was a mystery.
A mysterious power that defied reality, capable of producing phenomena that should not exist—or miracles.
Its allure was simply too great.
Despite possessing only an average talent, I had perfectly mastered every spell within the grimoire I was given.
If this was talent, then it was talent.
I could confidently claim that no one was more driven by the thirst to explore and endlessly devour magic than myself.
However, in the end, what always fell into my hands—and what was given to me—were only the ordinary, low-tier grimoire that could be found anywhere.
I was forced, per its purpose and intent, to participate in countless wars as a soldier and mage.
Each and every day had been hell.
Yet the reason I had survived until now was the overwhelming desire to live despite the certainty of death, coupled with the unyielding will to learn more magic.
Surviving so ruthlessly in battle after battle, my name on the battlefield had eventually become the grand title of “the Immortal Mage.”
Immortal.
Even thinking about it now made me laugh bitterly.
After all, the so-called Immortal Mage had met such a miserable and futile death.
“Coolk…”
Dark blood spurted from my mouth.
I felt no sensation below my waist.
It was logical: the opposing mage’s spell had completely severed my lower body.
Upon closer inspection, my entire body was riddled with serious wounds everywhere.
I could not live.
Only the fact and the truth flashed through my mind at that moment.
“…Heh heh heh…!”
I had always known this day would come.
The title “Immortal Mage” was nothing more than a hollow name.
The sky was red.
The thick, blood-soaked scent lingered at the edge of my nose.
“…!”
Damn it.
Damn it.
I was furious.
I had met this miserable death because my life had been freely manipulated by others.
I had never truly lived my own life.
Bound by forced constraints, I had spent every day as a mere puppet, serving others.
Even the glory of winning that war belonged to no one but myself.
I hated nobles.
I resented every last person who had created this situation.
“…Coolk.”
My only precious family in this world, the one who had given birth to me, was my mother, who alone remained in the memories that rose.
The face I had seen only once when she was still young and had parted ways with forever now felt distant in the hazy memory of my mother.
All laughter had vanished.
“Heh heh… heh heh heh…”
I felt a profound resentment toward someone, but it did not completely dominate my heart.
What gripped me more than anything, like a thousand-year grudge, was…
Magic.
The countless varieties of magic still widespread in this world that I had never seen or learned.
Grimoire filled with miracles and mysteries.
If I could be reborn once more in the next life as the same human being…
Then, at least,
My wishes and hopes would come true.
For the first time, I earnestly prayed to the god I had always resented.
The god I had once believed did not exist.
And.
The prayer was answered together with my death.
A miracle, literally.
In a special house where one could learn from various grimoire.
The house I had hated most.
The noble family.
In this place, I had become the fourth son known as Free.
My name had been chosen for one reason.
It meant freedom.
The moment I had obtained the wings of a name called freedom—thanks to the miracle bestowed by the god—I had gained the opportunity to soar once more.
* * *
Free von Betelgeuse.
The fourth son of House Phoenix, the magic dynasty, and the Count’s family.
A handsome boy with navy-blue hair and sharp red eyes.
It was normal for a house to use its family name as a surname, but House Phoenix was an exception.
The family name and surname were completely separate.
The reason was that the first head of the house had seen the eighth-brightest star in the night sky, glowing red, and had named it after the rising phoenix-like bird of immortality. He had adopted Betelgeuse as the surname, while naming the family Phoenix after the red star.
This matter had already been agreed upon in advance with the imperial royal family of the empire, so the matter was settled.
Only House Phoenix, as a count’s family, had family name and surname arranged in this manner.
Perhaps the first head had simply been a wise, clever man.
After all, by doing so, the world had remembered the differentiated family name and naming method through countless generations.
Thanks to this, House Phoenix had risen in the upper echelons and had been counted among the wealthiest noble families.
A magic dynasty and a wealthy noble family at the same time.
Such an advantage was unmatched.
It was the perfect place for me to learn magic.
“Free! Heading to the family archive again today?”
“Brother Albert.”
On the way through the mansion corridor, the one who spoke to me mid-step was Albert, the third son of House Phoenix, twelve years old.
I was the fourth son, and the handsome blond-haired, green-eyed young master standing before me was two years older than me.
Incidentally, the reason our hair and eye colors differed so much was that our mothers had given birth to us from different wombs.
Albert raised one hand at his waist and smiled cheerfully, greeting me with warmth.
“Haha! You really love reading books, don’t you?”
“Even Brother Albert, I heard you were always stuck in the family archive around my age.”
“You really look like an old man when I see you. You’re barely ten years old now.”
“…!”
As Albert had said, I had just turned ten this year, two years after turning eight.
During those two years, I had grown somewhat accustomed to this life.
Albert winked with one eye and offered me a piece of advice.
“If you go to the archive, check the bookshelf at the far left corner. There’s a special grimoire you need right now in the second slot from the top.”
“…A special grimoire?”
“Yes.”
“…!”
What was his intention?
After all, I was the fourth son who had been pushed far behind the line of succession as the house’s heir, so perhaps that was why.
Among the brothers born from different wombs, only Albert had always looked out for me and paid me attention in various ways.
“…Thank you for telling me. I’ll definitely check it out.”
“Sure. If anything happens, come tell this brother anytime!”
As he spoke, he clapped me on the shoulder with a friendly smile.
It was not a feeling I disliked in the slightest.
Nobles had been a deeply hated existence to me.
Yet, thanks to the Albert before my eyes, the one and only dear sister, and the mother who had given birth to me in this life, that resentment had been largely washed away.
However, the feelings and memories of resenting nobles from before did not disappear entirely.
‘Well, compared to the first and second sons, this one is better.’
The brothers born from different wombs—Albert’s older brothers, the first and second sons of House Phoenix—were very different in personality from Albert, the third son.
One of them was hot-tempered, filthy, and had been caught attempting to lay hands on women more than once. That was the second son, the sharp-eyed Alcas.
The other was the house’s legitimate eldest son, Iolth, a man with a cold demeanor.
I heard he had just turned twenty this year, having come of age.
He had already graduated from some academy in the empire and begun directly participating in the house’s major affairs.
I had accidentally heard the news.
However, his personality was so frigid and ruthless that it was hard to believe he was from the same womb as Alcas.
In front of me, he had rarely opened his mouth to speak to me at all.
An impressive man with blue hair swept into a neat pompadour.
Now only ten years old, with a two-year age gap.
He was quite indifferent toward me.
I barely acknowledged him even as we passed in the corridor.
‘On the other hand, Albert is kind and good, unlike anyone else. He always treats the people around him kindly.’
As I had been told by Albert, I had entered the family archive and was now standing before the bookshelf at the far left corner.
I checked the second slot from the top.
There, among the other books, I found one with an exceptional blue cover embroidered with gold thread.
A small red diamond-shaped gem was embedded in the center of the cover.
‘This is…?’
The grimoire was placed high and far out, making it difficult to reach without using a step stool or stool.
It was the high-tier grimoire I had been seeking—the one I had yearned for even in my previous life.
The first high-tier grimoire I had discovered in the archive, which I had believed contained only low and mid-tier at best.
I opened the first page, and the title of the book was…
[Must-Read Book on Multi-Casting Ⅰ]
< div style="text-align:center;border:3px solid #fbbf24;padding:25px;box-shadow:0 0 25px rgba(251,191,36,0.6),inset 0 0 25px rgba(251,191,36,0.1);background:linear-gradient(135deg,#1a0f00 0%,#000 50%,#1a0f00 100%);border-radius:8px;margin-bottom:20px;"> < div style="color:#fbbf24;font-size:24px;font-weight:bold;text-transform:uppercase;margin-bottom:15px;text-shadow:0 0 20px #fbbf24;letter-spacing:3px;">⚡ GRIMOIRE DISCOVERED ⚡ < div style="color:#fff;font-size:20px;text-shadow:0 0 15px rgba(251,191,36,0.6);line-height:1.8;"> < p>MUST-READ BOOK ON MULTI-CASTING Ⅰ
< p style="color:#fbbf24;">[High-Tier Multi-Casting Grimoire]