No Attribute (02)
Back when Kalen had mastered the 2nd HierarchyCombat Attribute spell "Explosion," a massive crater had scarred the makeshift training ground in the backyard. The difference between even a single hierarchy in magic was extreme. Anyone could guess as much from that pit. But now, it seemed Blamia had filled it in. The spot was packed with soil of a slightly different hue.
Kalen turned his gaze back to Blamia's silhouette.
"That—was that your doing, brat?"
The question lacked a clear target. It could have referred to breakfast just moments ago, or one from ages past. But Blamia never asked meaningless questions. He hated needless chatter, so overthinking it was the real mistake. He'd sent Sinat away for a reason—he clearly wanted to ask.
"You mean something related to the Rakatus lady?"
Blamia gave a slight nod toward the sky, then turned to face Kalen.
"Yeah. The whole high society knows about it. She even came to confirm with me not long ago."
Every mage had to go through Blamia for verification. There weren't enough for him to ignore them yet.
Kalen recalled those words, but they fell short. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what about Eliana this was about.
"That masterpiece. Did you do it, brat?"
"The mental image?"
"Yeah. That masterpiece."
Kalen was a little surprised. Blamia had never used such a term. For all his gruffness, even something breathtaking only earned a "worth a look" from him at best. There was only one thing a Grand Archmage like him would call a masterpiece.
The Winter Island etched into a mental image. Blamia was talking about Eliana's world.
"I saw that girl's world. I'd seen the Winter Island myself, but there was more to it."
"..."
"Why the hell are you in there, brat?"
Mental images couldn't hold people. They were like paintings—no room for actual figures. At most, only a rare few glimpsed a hazy version of themselves. But Eliana's was different. Not only was Kalen's form sharply imprinted, he was the damn centerpiece. Those not captivated by the island itself couldn't help but question it.
"It was stunning. Nearly blinded me."
"Yes."
"Talk of crafting a mental image through someone's merit is utter delusion... but after seeing that masterpiece, I couldn't help doubting."
Blamia stepped closer and gripped Kalen's wrist. Mana flowed, bringing a familiar sensation. Gradually unfolding was Kalen's murky world. Blamia was stimulating his mana.
The revealed world was still ashen, still burning, still cracked with solid lines—like shattered glass. Far from beauty or grandeur; it was the very thing Blamia had advised him to conceal.
But there was a slight difference now.
"Hah."
Something invisible twisted like writhing energy, convulsing across the whole scene. It resembled the "disease" that had driven Eliana to the brink—an already horrific landscape now even more grotesquely warped.
In a world that favored beautiful mental images, what would happen if Kalen's were exposed was all too predictable.
"That was your doing."
Kalen couldn't help but panic. He'd pieced it together from Eliana's words and aimed to cure her disease, but he hadn't intended to forge her mental image—or shoulder the illness himself.
As Blamia withdrew his mana, Kalen's world sealed shut. Looming before them were the documents Kalen had handed over upon his return—the ones he'd demanded from Duke Everchan regarding Eliana's condition. Every record tracing its origins.
Connections Kalen had made between his own peculiarities, Sinat's situation, and Eliana's.
With Sinat: forcibly manifesting his mental image to sever mana flow—a baseless hunch.
With Eliana: her pain eased markedly in his presence, thanks to his mana-less constitution.
Kalen was a freak who wielded magic without mana. He'd asked Everchan for these records to understand himself. But even poring over them on the way back yielded nothing. That's why he'd consulted Blamia—only to confront an unforeseen reality.
And the answer came from him.
"I'll teach you one spell. Give it a shot."
"Right now?"
"Yeah."
Blamia recited a complex magical formula without pause. It was far from any 1st Hierarchy computation—and utterly unfamiliar.
Kalen cocked his head but faithfully executed it. A chill wind rippled at his fingertips.
Blamia added nothing, then spoke again.
"Now try Explosion."
As Kalen deployed the 2nd Hierarchy Combat Attribute spell Explosion per Blamia's instruction—
It jammed.
What should have manifested smoothly was blocked, refusing to emerge.
"Enough. That's good."
Blamia stopped Kalen after a few more attempts, his expression grave as he began to explain.
"The first spell. Know what it was?"
"No idea."
"2nd Hierarchy Nature Attribute magic: 'Frost Wind.'"
Kalen's pupils dilated faintly. If he'd heard right, it was impossible.
Mastering multiple attributes was rare due to the sheer difficulty—like drafting intricate blueprints simultaneously.
Yet Kalen had pulled it off effortlessly.
He'd known it was 2nd Hierarchy. He'd just assumed Combat Attribute, like Explosion—which had taken him months. Frost Wind? Instant success. Something was off.
The 2nd Hierarchy wasn't that accessible. And now, he couldn't even cast Explosion.
"Know what attribute Eliana's recognized for?"
"Nature Attribute..."
A chill ran through him. Too perfect to be coincidence.
"Figured your aptitude was Combat since you awakened it first. Wrong."
"So I can't use Explosion because of the Nature Attribute?"
"Never was Combat to begin with. Probably none of the five attributes."
Blamia tapped the stack of records Kalen had given him.
"Took months for Explosion, but Frost Wind the moment I gave the formula. Proof your aptitude lies outside the five attributes, brat."
"Then why can't I use Explosion? Because I cast Nature magic?"
"What'd you hear? You're outside the system. And it's tied to what you did for the Rakatus lady."
The mental image. Blamia had said Eliana could have one thanks to Kalen.
"Your mana-less constitution. That horrific mental image. Don't know the cause, but it cured her mana-frenzy disease too. Simply put... yeah, that'll do."
Blamia set down the records, glanced around, and picked up a random pebble. He brushed off the dirt and held it out on one palm.
"See it?"
"Yes."
"One side has the stone. The other doesn't."
He alternated his hands.
"Put simply, the difference between having and lacking. The full palm can't hold more. The empty one? Anything fits. Get it?"
"Yes."
"You're the empty one."
He tossed the stone aside carelessly, keeping only the empty hand extended.
"No mana, nothing at all. Paradoxically, it devours anything."
"..."
"Picky with what's 'there'—one bite after careful selection. With 'nothings'? Shoves it all in to survive."
Life before Blamia took him in—scrounging the streets—flashed in Kalen's mind.
"But gorging on anything brings trouble. And true hunger never fades."
Blamia lowered his other hand and strode toward Kalen.
"You swallowed whatever that Rakatus girl's disease was, brat—and spat out Nature Attribute magic."
A glimpse behind Blamia revealed the records, dense with overflowing notes. All in Blamia's handwriting.
Kalen had no reply. Or was it shame?
Blamia's seemingly angry tone carried a hazy undercurrent of concern for him.
"Mental image's a mess, and look at your body. That normal?"
Heart blackened at the edges, cracks spiderwebbing out. Nowhere near normal.
"Whatever it is, pull that stunt again and you won't survive."
"Then what do I call my attribute?"
"What? Want me to name that too?"
Blamia had given him the name Kalen when he'd taken him in.
Kalen felt a pang of loneliness. Blamia was someone he'd eventually part from. No homeland, odd constitution, warped mental image, freakish magic. Even his name—everything unique. Abnormal, really. Nothing ordinary about him.
"No Attribute."
Blamia stroked his speckled beard, pondering long before speaking.
"No Attribute suits it."
Fortune smiled—Kalen had someone to name things for him.
Kalen looks so powerless.
The thought struck Sinat out of nowhere. She'd noticed late, thanks to how perfectly the monocle and staff she'd gifted him suited his look.
Kalen was calm... no, a touch cold at times, serious yet warm. She could confidently say she knew him better than anyone.
But in her eyes, he seemed a little lonely.
And that drained her energy too.
What had happened during his talk with Grandpa earlier? She couldn't bring herself to pry into secrets.
"That's no good."
Was playing with her not as fun for him? Was the heart injury still hurting too much, and he was sparing her feelings?
"No good."
Her finger slipped unconsciously between her lips—chomp, chomp.
Or... did he miss the world outside their cabin?
Crunch!
"Ow."
She glanced down at her finger. Blood trickled from where her nail had worn thin. Her expression remained eerily blank as she stared.
For a good while.
"Ah!"
Clapping her hands, Sinat sprang up and skipped lightly away, her face beaming with its usual bright smile.
"Gotta go play with Kal~!"