002: The Trigger Was Trivial
Blamia was teaching Sinat magic, just like any other day. Kalen watched them while cleaning the house. Normally, Sinat would have reached the limit of her concentration, whined about it, and run to Kalen. But this time, the small change started with Kalen himself, the one doing the watching.
Whoosh—a vivid flame flickered into shape with a crackling sound and waves of scorching heat. It was the manifestation of a 1st Hierarchy spell, the foundation of all magic.
“...”
Blamia whipped his head around at the sudden scent of magic wafting through the air. His gaze locked onto Kalen, who held a broom in one hand and awkwardly manifested a 1st Hierarchy spell in the other.
It must have been quite the shock. Why wouldn’t it be? The magic Kalen had summoned so naturally was something his own granddaughter hadn’t managed to grasp after months of trying.
“You... you...”
Blamia approached Kalen in a daze, his voice trembling. Sinat, meanwhile, was simply thrilled to escape her hellish study session. As Blamia drew closer to Kalen, he stared at the flames still roaring steadily in the boy’s hand. It was utterly inexplicable—a sight that stunned even Blamia, a man whose knowledge of magic had no equal.
The idea that magic’s emergence had widened the gap between the rich and the poor wasn’t mere rhetoric. It was a simple fact, rooted in magic’s peculiarities. What people once thought was a divine gift had long since become an exclusive luxury for the elite. From the imperial family to the high nobility, those who wielded magic were all aristocrats. And those who came after? All their blood kin.
These days, there were only two ways to use magic: be born into a high house capable of it, or shell out an astronomical fortune for a teacher. Birth was heaven’s whim, so set that aside. Mages didn’t want to share their privilege anymore. Learning magic cost a fortune, turning it into a luxury no commoner could even glance at.
Long ago, magic had been geared toward battle and war, but now even that had devolved into a mere ornament for nobles to flaunt their nobility.
—Or so it had seemed just a few years ago. Nothing lasts forever in this world. Just as nobles had once awakened to magic, now people from the lowest classes, like commoners, were starting to awaken to it bit by bit. The cases were still exceedingly rare, and commoners who reached even mid hierarchies were a tiny minority.
Blamia saw it as a transitional phase. Someday, he believed, magic would flow freely to nobles and commoners alike, without distinction.
But this? At eleven years old. Just eleven.
He’d always scolded his granddaughter for not awakening to even 1st Hierarchy magic, but that was perfectly natural. Most noble heirs awakened around one or two years before their coming-of-age ceremony—fifteen or sixteen, typically. Nagging Sinat was purely Blamia’s greed. He’d hoped it might lighten the burden weighing on her young heart.
He’d brought Kalen home for that reason, too. It handled the chores he hated, and it was for Sinat’s sake... but this inexplicable boy seemed oblivious to what he’d just done.
Blamia spoke to him. “You... try learning some magic.”
To use magic, one first had to sense the mana within and draw it out. Even novices knew that. And now Blamia was watching that common knowledge get utterly overturned.
Kalen was using magic without mana.
He didn’t know how it was possible, but he couldn’t deny what his eyes beheld. This wasn’t mere genius. He’d have to compare it to the imperial heirs, though he’d never taught them.
Blamia had heard Kalen’s backstory firsthand. His mother, a prostitute, was rarely around. His father? Just some rural baron, or so he thought.
Whenever someone manifested magic, there was always a verification process. In Blamia’s memory, no one below baron rank had ever passed it.
So how to explain this speed? He hadn’t taught anything grand yet—just a few basic 1st Hierarchy spells.
Yet Kalen learned on his own. He instinctively approached higher concepts, elevating basic spells, and absorbed lessons in less than a day. Blamia knew well how hierarchies formed impenetrable walls, even between adjacent ones, so he tempered his expectations.
Still, at that age, it was impressive. Even if taking him as a disciple stemmed more from another motive.
His granddaughter Sinat—a stubborn girl who rejected every other peer—had finally opened her heart to someone. If that boy learned magic, maybe she’d take an interest too.
To Blamia, Kalen’s talent was thus astonishing yet bittersweet. Just that.
All he had left was Sinat. That wouldn’t change until he closed his eyes forever—the heart of a grandfather who’d lost his child.
Blamia had no intention of keeping Kalen forever. He hadn’t picked up the stray to make him a lifelong ward. He wasn’t the charitable type anyway. Boost him a few hierarchies, and that’d repay the debt.
“Uses vary. Could be a scholar, a teacher, a mercenary somewhere.”
Magic had always been divided into seven hierarchies. Even in Blamia’s prime, no one surpassed the 6th. He, the so-called Grand Archmage, peaked at 6th. Now, in his old age, he claimed the pinnacle of 5th at best.
So even 1st- or 2nd-Hierarchy mages weren’t low-tier. Wielding magic at all equated to nobility. If Kalen broke through to 2nd, Blamia would call it a win.
“For making a living... teacher or mercenary suits best.”
The master-disciple bond had formed abruptly, but Kalen absorbed the lessons diligently. Blamia was his benefactor, after all, and clearly paving a path to survival.
“At 2nd Hierarchy, you could tutor for noble houses seeking titles through magic. Origin’s a snag... but that’s beyond my fix.”
“Yes.”
“And persuade my granddaughter while you’re at it.”
“Grandpa!”
If she’d inherited Blamia’s blood, she’d have some competitive fire. Use Kalen to ignite her interest in magic studies, set him up decently. For a street find, that was plenty.
With that in mind, Blamia began proper instruction.
Sinat, who’d initially whined and resisted, soon took an interest in magic. Blamia’s explanations still baffled her, but Kalen was the reason.
Her “friend” had been snatched by Grandpa for magic lessons, plunging her back into boredom. Asking for a new friend felt wrong—they meshed too well. He listened earnestly, balanced magic and chores with diligence. She knew her prickly personality made her tough; she appreciated how he accommodated it. Gratitude crept in unbidden.
So when her perfect friend got swept into magic, what choice did she have? She’d have to study eventually—might as well start early.
Thus, Kalen and Sinat studied magic together.
“Sinat, tell me about magic attributes.”
“Uh... well...”
Sinat subtly poked Kalen’s side. “...Nature, Manufacturing, Combat, Contract, Academic.”
“Sheesh, don’t steal my thunder, Kal!”
Snap!
“Eek!”
“Next time it won’t end with a knuckle rap, Sinat. Right—magic divides into five attributes. Usually, pick the one matching your mana best.”
“Can’t we pick all?”
“Magic’s... like computation. You’re different, but normally it’s not just drawing mana. Remember? You visualize magic circles nonstop in your head. Higher hierarchies make it exponentially more complex.”
Kalen recalled the 1st Hierarchy spells he’d learned—pre-attribute basics. Even those needed a split-second breather for computation. He couldn’t imagine high hierarchies like Blamia’s.
“Simply put, mastering both Nature and Manufacturing splits your mind in two. All five? Divide into five spaces, compute entirely different processes in each.”
Not drawing a square and triangle at once. More like drafting five distinct mansion blueprints simultaneously. No wonder high hierarchies and multi-attributes were rare.
“Is that why Mental Images are unique per person?”
The question came from Kalen. Even Blamia paused.
“Slightly different.”
Mental Image. Mages were said to possess their own firm world. But it fit some, not others. Not every mage had one.
The mage’s world was called a Mental Image. Like a single painted scene—capturing a moment. It revealed the person’s essence. A beautiful, superior Mental Image was irrefutable proof.
“If you’re willing to risk madness, sure, multiple attributes. But Mental Images are bestowed. You don’t choose.”
“It’s hard...”
“Quit daydreaming and master 1st Hierarchy properly, you brats.”
Blamia chuckled tsk-tsking. “Speaking of, let’s check aptitudes. Come here, both of you.”
“Yes.”
“Aptitudes?”
“Didn’t you hear me, Sinat? Which attribute suits you.”
Following Blamia’s hand, Sinat went first, offering her back. He’d stimulate her mana to gauge fit.
“Sinat, you lean toward Contract.”
Kalen’s turn. Blamia placed a hand on his back. “Come to think, you don’t even use mana...”
Then it hit.
“Guh!”
Kalen spasmed briefly. Blamia’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, their vision filled with an inky world, like Kalen’s hair.
“G-Grandpa... this is...”
“Quiet, Sinat.”
Brushing off her panic, Blamia stared into the ink-black world with sunken eyes. His white-bearded lips parted softly.
“...A Mental Image world?”