The Five Stages of Magic Development
Isaac's unique constitution. The abnormally rapid flow of mana, leading to the collapse of his vessels and mana explosions. This had bred wariness and fear among the servants at the manor. They never knew when they might get caught in an explosion, injured or killed.
But things were different in the magic department of the Royal Academy. There, they studied the history of magic. They learned about the mages who had existed throughout history, the spells that had been witnessed, and the principles and research outcomes surrounding them. At the very least, to them, Zick von Goethe was a mythical figure.
He had burned the capital over a century ago, contributed to the kingdom becoming a vassal state, nearly wiped out his own family, and left a heavy burden on his descendants—a monster of a man. And at the same time, he was the one who had reached the divine realm of 10th Class, a level unprecedented and unrepeatable.
Even now, traces of Zick von Goethe from a hundred years ago lingered throughout the capital. The repaired sections of the city walls were a different color where they'd been shattered. Some pillars and buildings in the royal palace still bore scars that could never be fully restored. In the Royal Academy library, fragments of his research papers were preserved like treasures, and in the magic towers, analyses of him were still ongoing. There were even shadowy groups that worshiped him as a god.
'More than I expected.' Isaac scratched his cheek as he stood at the podium.
The Hall of Magic wasn't filled with just magic department students. Professors, researchers, and even students from other departments had flocked here. At the center stood a large podium of black marble, surrounded by tiered seats arranged in a semicircle. This place, which could hold hundreds, resembled an amphitheater. At least half the seats were occupied. They had all come to see Isaac's lecture. To be precise, they'd come to gawk at the boy who shared Zick von Goethe's bloodline and his unique constitution.
A twelve-year-old kid with no authority in magic studies giving a lecture—that was why so many had gathered.
"Isn't he supposed to be twelve? He's pretty tall."
"Can't hide the family's poverty, I guess."
"Why's that girl standing up there?"
Isaac could hear their various judgments. In the north, the Goetes were called a magic noble house of sorts, but not in the capital. The Goetes had no political base, were ostracized from the capital, and were economically crippled by royal checks. They hadn't formed marriage alliances with other powerhouses or engaged in lively social activities, so they had no standing in noble society. The count himself had married the daughter of a great northern tribal chieftain, but to most nobles, tribes were just barbarians.
In short, to the capital's nobles, the Goetes were outsiders—a shabby family guarding fortresses in the north.
Murmurs continued even after Isaac took the podium. Some left after a cursory glance at him. From the start, no one had come for Isaac's lecture itself. It was only natural.
"Well, had your fill of gawking? As you know, I'm Isaac von Vinfelt Goethe. I'm standing here today to show you just how pathetic your magic levels are."
Even as Isaac began his lecture, the crowd filling the seats chattered among themselves. They ignored him even after hearing their magic was pathetic. Some openly chatted about unrelated topics. Many professors and researchers had already slipped out long ago.
But as Isaac continued word by word, the noise gradually died down.
"The imperial magic you're all racking your brains over. The so-called orthodox kingdom magic you revere. And the vaunted imperial scholars posing as professors, preaching the practicality and superiority of imperial magic. I'll show you how pointless those distinctions and debates are."
At some point, the Hall of Magic had fallen silent.
'Am I imagining it? Their stares sting.'
Isaac's lecture was provocative. No, it was outright provocation. From the early stages, it was all barbs aimed at the audience. The air among the listeners grew colder and sharper. Students and professors who had been about to leave glared at Isaac murderously and sat back down. How impressive must it be to act so arrogant? We'll crush him if we find even a tiny flaw. Their faces said as much.
Before long, the hall brimmed with hostility toward Isaac.
'Good, they're all focused now.' Isaac smirked. At least everyone's eyes in the space were on him. Far from tense, he was enjoying it. Maybe he had a personality that relished being hated. Or perhaps he just liked teaching.
On the other hand, Marcel Reich, who had put Isaac on the podium, looked as grim as could be. He hadn't imagined the lecture would proceed like this.
"So, when do we hear this brilliant young teacher's wisdom from the boonies? You're just repeating yourself."
The man in the very front row spoke up. Mana naturally infused his voice, carrying it far. He wore a fine linen shirt, vest, and leather coat—his status wasn't obvious at a glance. Too young for a professor, too mature for a student. Representing the audience, he spoke irritably.
"If you keep babbling nonsense with one country bumpkin up there, you'll pay for wasting my time."
Enet, standing beside Isaac like a scarecrow, flushed beet red. She wiped the cold sweat from her brow repeatedly, head bowed low. She didn't know what to do with all the eyes on her. It was exactly as Isaac wanted. He'd accepted Marcel Reich's lecture invitation to imprint Enet, not himself, in their minds.
"Don't be too harsh. This girl is my exclusive maid and, well, a mage I trained. She's also a useful assistant for today's lecture. I can't demonstrate magic myself due to personal reasons. Ahem, then, for those short on patience, let's get to the main point."
Amid the sneers, Isaac's full lecture began. It was unfamiliar, or rather, utterly alien content.
"For years, I've struggled to uncover the origins of my unique constitution, mana rampage. And I've concluded that magic development has five stages."
Isaac's theory on the five stages of magic development was as follows.
The first stage of magic development was primitive magic, originating from ancient times. Those who wielded it held religious positions like envoys of the gods, shamans, or sorcerers, manipulating mana through intuitive senses. They used bodily sacrifice or offerings to cast spells. Ancient language hadn't been established yet, nor had the word "magic" even existed.
The second stage was magic's early period, when royalty and nobles began systematizing it. Magic families started researching and recording spells. Logical structuring occurred, and ancient language was born. But ancient language was arcane, requiring high proficiency, and this was when kingdom-style orthodox magic traditions solidified.
"And between the third and fourth stages is the era you all live in now. The concepts of circles and classes were created, making magic more powerful and complex. It's also the age of implicit incantations. What you call imperial magic."
The third stage was orthodox magic, the fourth practical magic.
"According to orthodox magic, igniting a single flame requires the following incantation."
Isaac wrote on the wooden board in front of the podium with chalk.
"Raudar mana intala estum—calling forth the internal source of mana. Adr faira innan bre—infusing the energy of flame. Originally, adr is more accurately interpreted as 'to add' semantically, but…."
He fluently wrote ancient words, explained their etymologies, and offered rich interpretations of their references and realities. Already, the audience was being drawn in. Even students versed mainly in imperial magic, and professors, rarely delved deeply into orthodox magic. The results were usually pitiful compared to the time invested. Those who knew some orthodox magic tried to nitpick Isaac at first but soon gave up and just listened. Understanding it was overwhelming enough.
"…This leads to Stor faira estom, forming the final flame. Simple, right? Enet, demonstrate it."
"Raudar mana intala estum…"
Enet recited the incantation without hesitation. Even a slight mispronunciation, misinterpretation, or flawed imagery would fail orthodox magic. Especially in public settings, people avoided it—nerves often led to disaster.
"…Stor faira estom."
Whoosh!
Yet Enet successfully conjured the flame.
"Condensing this orthodox incantation implicitly gives Eldr min innan bre thfu. Words that polysemously encompass flame and ignition, operation and power, internal and source, air and diffusion, completion and manifestation. Enet, do it again with the implicit incantation."
Enet ignited the flame as instructed.
"You probably think this method is far more efficient. But imperial magic has clear limits. You can't go beyond using implicit incantations painstakingly developed by someone researching orthodox magic—no further variations or improvisations. For example, in the orthodox incantation, 'Raudar ea intala nasus' calls the source of air. Let's modify it like this."
Isaac freely revised the orthodox incantation on the board.
"Enet, demonstrate."
Flames rose from Enet's fingertips as she carefully recited. But this time, the form was different. The flame took the shape of a bird, its color closer to red.
"How much air you burn, how you shape the imagery, how much mana you condense—these can all be adjusted through orthodox incantations. Allowing all sorts of tricks."
Isaac's lecture bordered on sleight of hand. He modified and supplemented orthodox incantations on the spot, endlessly varying the flame magic before their eyes.
"Insane…."
Groans escaped the students like sighs; professors merely clicked their tongues. They'd sought a chance to crush the arrogant kid, but instead, they were overwhelmed.
"You get it by now. Imperial magic isn't superior. Kingdom magic isn't inferior either. Ultimately, imperial magic stems from orthodox magic, and without understanding it, you're just parrots repeating incantations. Without the intuition and senses of primitive magic eras to perceive and cognize, ancient language itself wouldn't have been born."
Isaac's argument was clear: not superiority, but stages. Like building a house—clearing the ground, laying foundations, erecting the frame. Only precedence and succession. Claiming one was great or not was just flaunting ignorance.
Some students and professors who blindly trusted imperial magic flushed red. They were annoyed but couldn't find flaws in Isaac's logic. One imperial professor had already tried refuting him and failed.
"If imperial magic is so superior, vary the flame right here. I can; can the wise professor?"
"…D-Damn it, I'm the fool for wasting time on this nonsense."
The imperial professor couldn't answer and stormed out in rage. No scholar had ever viewed magic development in continuous stages like this. Existing academics saw magic as a completed discipline; orthodox and imperial were disconnected, not linked. It was natural for one system to replace another.
Marcel Reich, watching with interest, smiled.
And then, "So, what's the final stage?"
Someone asked. It was the front-row man who had mocked Isaac at the start.