Unlocking a New Skill Tree?
A few days after taking Erika in as his assistant, Julian celebrated his twelfth birthday.
"Happy birthday, Julian!" Along with congratulations erupting from all sides, the birthday party swept by like a whirlwind.
There was a mountain of gift boxes sent by the Merkur Merchant Guild. There was his father's dramatic fussing as he wiped away tears, crying, "I can't believe our Julian is already twelve!" And even Freya, who awkwardly offered her congratulations while handing him a handkerchief.
After the chaotic party ended and dinner was over, he returned to his room, just about to check his gifts.
*Knock, knock.* When he opened the door at the sound of knocking, his mother was standing there. For a split second, he thought he was seeing a ghost. In the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, she had come herself, rather than sending a servant or a maid.
"Julian, come to the study for a moment." Her face was incredibly serious as she spoke. Tensing up, I followed her without even daring to ask why. What is it? What on earth is going on?
The atmosphere in front of the study was tense, to say the least. Guards were stationed on both sides of the hallway. On top of that, two more stood on either side of the study door. The hallway, which usually had only a single guard, was now packed with four, causing my muscles to tense up instinctively.
As my mother and I passed, the guards bowed deeply without saying a word. These were men who would normally greet me warmly, so their stony silence made the situation feel incredibly grave.
Creeeak. A guard silently opened the door. Inside, my father was waiting. The door shut behind us, and my mother slid the deadbolt into place from the inside.
"Sit, Julian." Father gestured toward the sofa. The atmosphere was heavy enough that it wouldn't have been surprising if some dramatic secret of my birth was about to be revealed. Wait, don't tell me I'm not adopted, but actually an illegitimate child?No way. Since the two of them just stared at me in silence, my nerves got the better of me, and my mind started running wild.
Finally breaking the silence, Father spoke. "You are twelve now."
"Yes. Thanks to you and Mother, I have grown up safely."
"Is that how a child your age should talk... Sigh. Never mind." The Baron let out a sigh. "I called you here because this wasn't something we could discuss at the party. By Imperial law, once you turn twelve, you are permitted to learn magic. Are you aware of this?"
"Yes, I am." The abilities required to wield magic were largely twofold: a baseline cognitive understanding of the world, and the physical sensitivity to perceive mana. It was generally accepted that these two requirements reached their minimum threshold by the age of twelve.
Father nodded, pleased by my quick comprehension. "Then it is time you began learning how to become a noble."
How to become a noble. Hearing those words, I finally understood why the atmosphere was so solemn. Magic was the bare minimum requirement to be a noble. While not every magic user became a noble, every noble had to know how to use magic. Only then could they fulfill their noble duties.
So that's why. The heavy security made sense now. Passing down magic was a matter of grave importance for any house. Who learned it could hint at the next successor, and what kind of magic they studied could allow others to predict the family's future moves. Naturally, there was no benefit in letting the outside world know.
"Good. I shall outline your schedule." Naturally, there was a proper sequence to learning magic, much like primary, secondary, and higher education. "First, you will learn the basics from a private tutor."
A tutor literally taught only the fundamentals: the nature of magic, basic formulas, the principles of casting, and determining which affinity I possessed. However, they would never teach anything beyond that. Once a magic user grasped the basics, they had to forge their own path.
If their paths aligned, the relationship might continue, but usually, one parted ways with their tutor at that point and moved on to the next stage. Father, however, spared his words regarding what came after. "We can discuss what comes next later, as it is still far off. Even the tutoring process alone usually takes about three years."
Sitting quietly beside Father, Mother smiled gently. "Do not push yourself too hard, and take your time learning." Looking at her smile, I couldn't bring myself to say it. That it probably wouldn't even take a few months.
Three months later.
"...Does this even make sense?" Mr. Schmidt, my private tutor, muttered with a dazed expression. Mother had hired him, and he was apparently the star tutor for noble children. He was indeed an excellent teacher.
"I have been teaching for over thirty years, but I have never seen anything like this."
"It is only because you taught me so well, sir."
"No. I merely did what I always do. You should be proud of yourself." Hearing that made me feel incredibly embarrassed.
"Particularly in alchemy, I have nothing left to teach you. Your understanding of material structure and transmutation is..."
"I was already somewhat familiar with that area."
"Familiar?"
"Well, due to certain circumstances..." I couldn't exactly tell him, 'Because I'm a director of a pharmaceutical merchant guild,' so I just laughed it off. I packaged it as simply having a deep interest in the subject. Mr. Schmidt didn't pry and merely nodded.
"I believe you should pursue the path of alchemy, young master." Yes. I'm already on it. I even have a company. A massive one. We were just promoted to a second-class grand guild.
"..."
"..." Having finished speaking, the tutor fell silent. Anyone could see he had more to say, but he held his tongue and bid me farewell.
"It has been a pleasure teaching you, Julian. I hope our paths cross again in the future."
"Thank you for the past three months, sir."
"No, the pleasure was mine. It has been a long time since I felt such fulfillment in teaching. Thank you." With a warm smile, the tutor left the room.
The moment he left, I made sure no one was around, walked over to my bed, and buried my face in the pillow, letting out a groan. "Uggghhh..." It had been exhausting pretending to be perfectly fine. I really thought I could breeze through this using 21st-century scientific knowledge. After all, I had walked a path that made me a certified elite even among 21st-century science majors.
I thought I'd master the entire curriculum in three months and say something cool at the end like, 'Ah, is this all the magic of this world has to offer? It's so boring I want to die.' But life is never that easy. The scientific principles held up, but the problem was that science wasn't everything. I had to learn folklore, mythology, and even religious and philosophical symbolism.
Why is salt a 'symbol' that repels evil spirits? Why is silver an 'inhibitor' for werewolves? Why is lead a 'catalyst' that traps souls? Beats me. They just are because they are. In this world, those laws are as fundamental as gravity and electromagnetism.
And what the hell is 'the caster's mindset'? Symbols, inhibitors, catalysts, mindset, faith, intent... and then a dash of scientific knowledge on top. For a rational, logical 21st-century surgeon, magic was a discipline plagued by far too many superstitious variables.
But as long as I was aiming to be perceived as a genius, I couldn't allow myself to fumble during class. So every single day, I pre-studied the night before and put on a performance of a prodigy who understood everything in an instant the next day. This damn genius persona... I can't keep this up. If I let my guard down, the act would shatter. So I had to constantly hype myself up internally. Wow, finishing it in three months? Insane, absolutely insane. ...Dammit. A sparrow trying to keep up with a stork will only tear its legs apart.
Why did I set a goal to finish this in three months... Still, I couldn't compromise. It would look pretty pathetic if a genius protagonist took the full three years to learn basic magic. So I studied with the mindset of a speedrunner, but man, it was brutal. Thanks to that, I got to experience the dread of being a South Korean college entrance examinee again for the first time in twenty-five years. Hang in there, high school seniors. I know it's tough. But you'll have to keep studying in college anyway. Sucks to be you.
In other stories, they just learn it with a single click. Wasn't magic supposed to be easier in other web novels? Like waking up with it engraved on your soul, or a skill window popping up while you sleep. Or at least, since it's a fantasy world, shouldn't learning it step-by-step give me a rush of dopamine? Come on. Give me an easy cheat code too.
...Well, whatever. It's over now. All that was left was to wait. Since I had put in this much effort, the power of misunderstanding would handle the rest.
At the exact moment Julian was burying his face in his pillow—his personal venting chamber—and pouring out his frustrations, Mr. Schmidt visited the study to report his final assessment.
"So, what is it you wish to say, tutor?" asked Hendel, Julian's father. Across the desk, Schmidt let out a heavy sigh. The warm smile he had shown Julian just moments ago was completely gone.
"...Baron. May I speak frankly?"
"Go ahead."
Mr. Schmidt carefully began to speak.
"Please do not misunderstand what I am about to say, and listen closely. The young master's cognitive talent is superior to anyone I have ever seen. When it comes to theory, he is undoubtedly the most brilliant student I have ever taught."
Schmidt paused. A storm of anxiety swirled in his mind. Was it truly wise to deliver this news straight? If he wasn't careful, the head of the family might hurl an ashtray at his head. He had encountered many such short-tempered nobles in his career. However, steeling his resolve, Schmidt spoke.
"But... I believe it would be best for him to give up on the dream of becoming a Mage."
"...What do you mean by that?" Rinie asked.
The tutor quickly bowed his head. Though he had wrapped it in polite language, the core of his statement was incredibly insulting. Translated, it meant: Your son has zero practical talent. He should just stick to research.
Beside Hendel, Rinie's hand froze over her teacup. "Could you explain in more detail, Mr. Schmidt?"
"Yes, Baroness. We conducted a practical examination toward the end of our lessons." Mr. Schmidt counted on his fingers, tallying the subjects they had covered.
"His theoretical scores were perfect. Frost, lightning, fire, alchemy... While noble children typically show talent in only one domain, the young master has mastered them all. He understands the underlying principles of every spell formula perfectly."
"Then what is the problem?"
"Despite understanding the theory, he cannot actually cast them."
Hendel's brow furrowed. "Not even a single spell?"
"Yes. Not a single one." Schmidt sighed. "My Lord, Baroness. In magic, theory and practice are entirely different matters."
Schmidt traced letters in the air. It was a basic conditional premise from a textbook, something all nobles memorized like a formula.
[Scenario]
You wish to cast a spell in a graveyard at thirty-two degrees Celsius and eighty-five percent humidity.
"Indeed."
"Under those assumed conditions, the young master constructs the spell formula flawlessly. The problem is..." Schmidt trailed off. "In reality, no one tells you those conditions."
"..."
"One place might be thirty degrees, another fourteen. Humidity changes in real-time, and casting a single spell alters the conditions yet again. Furthermore, the ambient symbolism of each location differs."
Rinie, catching on to what the tutor was getting at, asked softly, "Is Julian... unable to sense the symbolism?"
"Yes."
On the other hand, Hendel, who lacked knowledge in this area, crossed his arms and demanded a clearer explanation. "Explain further. I am a layman in these matters. What do you mean by symbolism?"
"Let us take frost magic as an example." Schmidt opened his palm, conjuring a tiny shard of ice above it. "To cast frost magic in this very room, one must first feel the temperature and humidity with their skin. At the same time, they must read the ambient energy of 'stagnation and oblivion' lingering in this space."
"Mmm..."
"For lightning, one needs the sensory ability to read potential difference and atmospheric conditions, combined with the instinct to locate where the energy of 'wrath and pride' converges."
"And he lacks that?"
"Yes. The young master lacks both the physical sensory talent and the emotional sensitivity required for magic."
At those words, Rinie set her teacup down and nodded. "Indeed, such things cannot be taught."
Schmidt bowed his head. "The young master understands it flawlessly with his mind. It is simply that his body cannot keep up."
Silence fell over the room. Hendel broke it.
"...So, what is your conclusion?"
"Among the nobility, individuals like the young master are referred to as 'Twilight Fireflies.'"
A Twilight Firefly. Hendel knew the metaphor well. A creature that flickers brilliantly at dusk, only to vanish when night falls. It was a term used for noble children who shone blindingly in their youth but failed to even enter the ranks of true magic users as adults.
"Are you certain, tutor?" Hendel's brow furrowed deeply at the metaphor.
Schmidt nodded. "I fear the young master has no choice but to walk the path of a Magician."
A Magician. A class of magic users who merely researched formulas, relied on pre-drawn circles, or required the aid of magic tools to barely cast spells. While it didn't completely bar them from nobility, it made maintaining that status incredibly difficult.
"So a Mage is truly out of the question?"
"A Mage is..."
A Mage was an elite who could freely cast magic on the fly with nothing but a staff. Naturally, such elites had no trouble securing noble status. However...
"I am sorry."
Julian was not one of them. Schmidt did not need to elaborate. Even without hearing the rest, Hendel understood the implications.
"I see."
Hendel's voice sank. In the Empire, a Magician was merely a technician, not recognized as a Mage capable of maintaining a title. To put this situation in Julian's modern terms, Mr. Schmidt was essentially saying: Your son isn't cut out for medical school; you should probably look into other career paths. It wasn't that he lacked talent entirely. It was just that his talent lay in a direction that was socially disadvantageous. While Julian himself would have brushed it off, it weighed differently on his parents.
"Tutor. Tell me just one thing. Do you believe Julian will be able to inherit the noble title?"
To nobles, magic was a weapon and a means of advancement before it was an academic pursuit. Their privileges stemmed from the martial power required to fight the Magic Beasts outside the walls. Thus, Hendel's worry was entirely justified. No matter how brilliant his intellect, if Julian could not become a Mage... he would likely be the first to be weeded out of the cutthroat noble ecosystem.
"Speak without reservation."
"He may find success as a Magician or a scholar. But as a noble or a Mage..." Schmidt trailed off.
A flash of pain crossed Hendel's eyes. He knew the cruelty of this ecosystem better than anyone. But after a brief pause, Hendel nodded.
"I understand. Thank you for your honesty."
"Then, I shall take my leave, Baron."
After Mr. Schmidt departed, a heavy silence settled over the study. Just as the steam rising from the teacups began to fade, Hendel broke the quiet.
"My love."
"Yes?"
"I was a dullard."
Rinie turned her head toward him. "Why do you say that all of a sudden?"
"I was born slow-witted. It took me five years just to grasp the basics of magic. Even then, I barely managed to learn it through sheer physical repetition."
Hendel gazed out the window. "But it was fine, because my body could keep up. In magic, even if your mind is slow, you can manage as long as you have the sensory talent."
Rinie did not answer.
"But Julian is the exact opposite. His mind is ten times sharper than mine, yet they say his body cannot keep up."
"...Yes."
"Is that not far more cruel?"
Rinie clenched her skirt. *Cruel.* It was the perfect word. To understand everything perfectly but be unable to perform it. Rinie knew better than anyone how agonizing that frustration was. Indeed, that very struggle was the reason the House of Nihilit had to bring Hendel in through a matrilocal marriage in the first place.
"Sigh... Let us not speak of this to Julian," Hendel said. "There is no benefit in him knowing."
"...Very well." Rinie agreed with a nod. Yet, a heavy weight pressed down on her heart. Falling from nobility meant far more than a mere change in social status.
'This world has no mercy for those who fall.' Rinie recalled the words her mother had told her in her childhood. Those above will crush your wings so you can never rise again. Those below will tear off your limbs to build their own ladders. And those at the very bottom will hack away at whatever is left of you just to vent their spite. That was why the people of the Empire struggled so desperately. Not to climb higher, but to avoid falling.
"I prayed Julian would never have to experience what I did..." Rinie covered her face with both hands. Before she met her husband, she had spent countless days in agonizing anxiety. Knowing her pain all too well, Hendel wrapped his arms around her.
"It will be fine, my love."
Hendel's heart ached as well. Yet, at the same time, he refused to let go of hope.
"He is a child who works miracles, is he not?" He knew well what kind of miracles Julian had wrought through sheer effort.
"If it is him, he will find a way."
Having witnessed those feats from the closest vantage point, he believed in Julian. He knew how arduous the path ahead would be, but as a parent, he could only support him.
Meanwhile, in the laboratory.
"Hehe." Julian stared into a flask, letting out a silly chuckle. I should have learned magic sooner. Julian already knew better than anyone that he could never become a Mage. But this realization brought him no despair. In this genre, it was common sense that when one route was blocked, an unconventional path would open.
This is basically telling me to go down the alchemy route. He grinned foolishly as he watched pig intestines bubbling inside the flask. Is there even any need to become a Mage? Basic utility magic is more than enough to control the temperature. To him, a protagonist of a misunderstanding story, the fact that he couldn't become a Mage didn't matter in the slightest.