The Fall of the Calbrandt Family
The Calbrandt family had long been renowned as one of the empire's foremost magic households. Even the Mage Tower, which claimed supremacy in all matters arcane, was said to defer to them. Though their standing among the nobility was not particularly lofty, their authority in magical affairs was undisputed. Ruen Fil Calbrandt, the family's sole heir, had been born beneath the weight of everyone's expectations. His father, Hamel Fil Calbrandt, possessed mana sensitivity so exceptional that it stood out even within the Calbrandt bloodline, while his mother, Luana Helint, had rewritten magical history with her groundbreaking thesis on mana circles. Between a father whose talent promised the legendary ninth circle and a mother whose brilliance reshaped theory itself, Ruen had been destined for greatness from the moment he drew breath.
He was precocious from the start—walking earlier than others, speaking sooner, and displaying a maturity and sharpness of mind far beyond his peers. Naturally, the expectations placed upon him only grew heavier. From a young age, he received theoretical instruction from his mother and consumed the family's rare elixirs as he grew. Because Luana's constitution was frail, she could bear no more children after him, which only intensified the pressure on her sole son. Hamel, who loved his wife deeply, never took a concubine, pouring all his affection into Ruen instead.
Ruen grew up carrying the love of his parents, the hopes of countless others, and the full support of his house. When he turned ten—the age at which betrothals became possible—marriage proposals flooded the Calbrandt estate. Despite offers from the highest-ranking noble houses and even the granddaughter of a Mage Tower lord, the family ultimately chose a girl from another respected magic lineage with whom Ruen had been acquainted since childhood. Though her house was slightly inferior to the Calbrandts, the match had seemed solid. At least, it had remained so until the family stood on the brink of annihilation.
Two hundred years of prestige, built by the Calbrandt name, collapsed in an instant.
"...Wait. Something seems wrong. Could you give me a moment?"
I stood frozen, staring blankly at the crystal ball beneath my hand. The mana sensitivity test was conducted at the age of fifteen; any earlier and the results would be unreliable. That had always been the accepted truth. When the device activated, the crystal would glow according to one's aptitude—nothing for zero sensitivity, then red, blue, green, purple, and finally the radiant gold that marked the highest tier. My father's sensitivity had been a deep, brilliant gold. I had assumed, with no small amount of arrogance, that I would at least reach purple.
The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating. My father's warm smile as he sent me off, my mother's gentle eyes promising a feast upon my return, the shy smile of my fiancée waving goodbye—all of it faded beneath the faint red light now pulsing from the crystal.
The technician fumbled with the device, panic clear in every movement. Of course he was flustered. The crystal itself was of the highest quality; the Mage Tower had taken special interest in testing the heir of the Calbrandt line. Which meant the pale red glow before me could only mean one thing.
"Ha..."
A bitter laugh escaped me. All those elixirs I had consumed since childhood—worth thousands of gold at the very least—had amounted to nothing more than this faint crimson. Even if elixirs could not dramatically alter innate talent, the quantity and quality I had ingested should have guaranteed at least a purple result, perhaps even a hint of gold. Yet the crystal told the truth.
My pride, the expectations that had shaped my entire life, the loving gazes of my parents—everything crumbled at once.
"Please wait a moment. There must be an error with the results—!"
I lowered my hand from the crystal. No matter how long I held it there, nothing would change. The technician's frantic voice reached my ears, but I had no strength left to respond. I knew the truth better than anyone: the device had measured me correctly. My sensitivity was truly this low.
"I'll prepare another crystal right away, so if you could just—!!"
The door burst open with a crash, cutting the technician off. When I saw the family butler standing there, pale and trembling, a single phrase rose unbidden to my mind.
Misfortunes never come singly.
"Young master!! The lord and lady—they—!"
That day, my world collapsed. Completely.
It had been an accident, they said. The wheel of my parents' carriage—my father's personal carriage, always meticulously maintained—had broken on a steep mountain road. The coachman died instantly. My parents... had encountered a monster by chance and...
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that was an accident?"
The carriage of the family head breaking at precisely the worst possible moment. A monster waiting exactly where they fell. None of it could be dismissed as mere coincidence. It was someone's scheme. I swore then that I would uncover the truth and avenge them, staking the Calbrandt name on my vow.
But I could not.
Because my mana sensitivity was the lowest grade. The Calbrandt family had risen solely through magical prowess. With both parents gone, the next head—me—possessed no talent to speak of. I had neither the sensitivity nor the theoretical brilliance to match my mother. There was no way for me to sustain the house.
And then she came.
"Let's end our engagement."
Even the fiancée I had trusted and loved abandoned me the moment she learned of my failure and the family's ruin. At first I refused, trying to persuade her, until I saw her laughing with the heir of another house—radiant, as if she had never been mine. After that, I broke completely. And so did the Calbrandt family.
In that moment, everything I had ever known came to an end.