Using a touch of magic, he cleaned the second floor with ease, then sat down quietly—letting his body rest in complete stillness.
His eyes slowly closed, as though shutting himself away from the noise of the outside world.
A faint, luminous energy soon began to envelop his body, wrapping around him like a soft, glowing mantle.
After a short while, as if he had taken in enough, he gently opened his eyes again and stretched out his hand into the empty air in front of him.
"The energy surrounding this residence is unusually dense…"
"...I truly did not expect to stumble upon a place with such a rich concentration. With this, my magical level should advance by quite a margin," he murmured in a low voice.
He sharpened his focus.
The faint crimson gleam reignited in his eyes, and information began to surface in his mind—data reflecting his current state.
Name : Al
Race : Human
Age : 17 years (human) / xxx years (cursed human)
Primary Energies (human) :
Entra : 19,752 (Grandmaster)
Vita : 19,527 (Grandmaster)
Arma : 19,071 (Grandmaster)
Primary Energy (cursed human) :
Hxxx : xxx (xxx)
Secondary Energies (human) : xxx
Special Trait (cursed human) : xxx
Other Parameters: ——
Al deactivated his special vision and snorted softly before muttering to himself.
"My stable energy currently rests at the upper stage of the Grandmaster level in all three of my primary energies."
He sighed.
"Yet even so, it still does not feel sufficient to suppress the instability of energy and the fluctuations of my emotions. It is nothing but irritating," he whispered faintly.
"But something feels off… Ever since I came back here, there's been an unusual surge of energy interfering with my own," he added.
He shook his head.
"I don't know what it is… but I hope it won't have any negative effects."
He then lifted one hand toward the lamp above him. With a small flick of his finger—
Click.
The lamp instantly went out, shrouding the room in darkness.
Yes. This is a world where magic exists—but it isn't some miraculous force that lets you do anything just by imagining it.
It's more like stamina: the more you have, the more you can do. The rest depends on how you use it, and what abilities you possess.
In the end, magic is simply a special kind of energy.
This world still holds remnants of that energy, even though most people have long forgotten it.
Because of that, those who remain connected to the magical realm usually choose to hide their powers from ordinary eyes.
But someone like Al is different—he belongs to neither this world nor its ordinary order, even though he was born into it.
As Al himself had explained, the magical energy of humans was classified into three distinct categories;
- Entra, the energy used to externally manipulate objects or phenomena, the most common form harnessed by magicians.
- Vita, the internal energy that altered and enhanced the body of its wielder, often cultivated by martial artists.
- Arma, the energy used to manipulate the very essence of external objects, a power typically wielded by weapon users.
The amount of magical energies a person possessed—and how well they could control them—determined their overall level.
With that, a person's strength was then categorized into several levels.
Depending on which type of energy they focused on, or whether they had managed to advance in all three simultaneously.
These levels were ranked as: Novice, Adept, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, Saint, Sovereign, Emperor, Legend, and finally, Mythic.
Beyond even that final level, rumors whispered of a level where a person might transcend mortality altogether and step into the domain of the immortal.
Al set his backpack down at the edge of the room, and settled onto the rug. He took a deep breath and smile.
The tall window, curtainless, allowed the moonlight to pour freely inside. The night outside was dark—but peaceful.
He gazed at the light streaming through the rusted bars, letting it wash over him.
And from who-knows-where, a grey staff appeared in his hand.
He lifted it and examined the object with a wide grin.
"I haven't used this in a long time. Hopefully it's still in good shape," he said. He pressed the middle section of the grey staff, and it opened sideways, forming a grey frame.
"Ugh… it's a bit stiff." He complained as he tugged at it, and with a stronger pull, the frame expanded to a fairly large size—big enough to fit a door.
"Good."
Al then pressed it against one of the walls. Placing his hand right at the center of the frame, he infused it with magical energy, which soon filled the interior of the frame. And—
CKRAKKK!!
Something happened. The frame created what looked like a portal, from which only a dense black shadow could be seen.
Al immediately stepped forward and entered the black shadow.
As if passing through space itself, he now found himself in a rather spacious room, filled with plenty of furniture and belongings.
It resembled a bedroom with a medieval atmosphere.
"Oh… it still works. But I guess I need to make it a little more modern," Al said as he explored the long-unused space.
Eventually, he stopped at the edge of a large, luxurious bed.
"Actually, choosing this building worked more in my favor. If I stayed in the main house, I'd probably be under constant watch, and that would seriously hinder my activities," he said with slight relief.
"At least here, I could keep my distance from those two demons while still observing this family,"
"Luckily, this dimensional room was still available. I didn't have to force myself to sleep somewhere that didn't feel fully lived-in yet." he said as he flopped onto the soft, enormous bed.
This was a dimensional room created by spatial magic. Similar to a dimensional storage, but shaped more like a proper room.
Sadly, organic objects couldn't enter it—though Al could, thanks to a magic barrier protecting his body from being distorted by the dimensional interference.
"Ouchh," he muttered softly as a slight ache prickled the back of his head.
He sat up and removed a small device from behind his ear.
"I almost forgot."
It was a tiny chip—now damaged—that had apparently been embedded there earlier.
"Good thing this emotion blocker exists," he muttered. "Otherwise, I don't even know what would've happened just now."
"It seems Sarah's words and David's little games affected my anger more than I realized," he analyzed calmly.
"Even though I stayed composed and didn't actually lose control, my emotions were still disturbed without me noticing—ended up damaging this thing in the process."
"Huff… I'll need to ask for a replacement."
The device was a tool he used to keep his anger in check—a limiter that delivered an electric shock whenever the wearer began to lose control.
The more severe the emotional disturbance, the stronger the shock.
He also took the time to lightly heal his body with magic. The wounds that had once covered him instantly vanished, leaving no trace.
Previously, he had used minor transformation magic to make his body appear wounded.
It was a camouflage—to prevent them from seeing what was on his back, and it had also inadvertently helped him escape from that low-level skirmish with Dedy & Ramu.
It kept his secret identity safe.
And when his body returned to its original form, a strange mark was revealed on his back. Not very large, but distinct, with a reddish-black hue.
Its shape resembled a seven-pointed star with a unique pattern. People might mistake it for a satanic symbol, but whatever it was… it remained a mystery of its own.
Finally, Al could relax.
He stared at the dim light inside the room.
For a moment, he reflected on everything that had happened earlier—the anger, the chaos, the impulses he had barely restrained.
I know my parents and Aurielle aren't exactly ready to accept me either. But at least they're trying.
The annoying one is that woman, Sarah. And of course, that brat. He's truly hypocritical. I'll have to do something about him.
But whatever it is, my emotions are far too conspicuous to interact with them freely. I need to stay cautious. he thought quietly.
The quiet of the room, the soft light… it all felt strange, yet oddly grounding, a small reminder of what this place was meant to be.
"So… this is what they call home and family," he muttered, his voice flat. "A family where the children are raised to devour one another."
"But maybe that's just how elites live," he added calmly. "A life soaked in competition."
He shook his head lightly. "It's not that bad… but it's not exactly good either. Either I manage to blend in like a normal person, or…"
A faint smile surfaced.
"…I conquer this family."
He then raised one hand, and a red circle flared on his wrist. The circle glowed, etched with ancient inscriptions, like a burning tattoo.
It was a Glyph—a magical medium he used for long-distance communication. Messages sent through it would enter the recipient's mind directly.
More advanced than telepathy, it could reach far distances and even be broadcast to multiple people.
Unfortunately, it only worked on those with an established connection.
With it, Al sent his message:
"Make sure tonight's patrol goes smoothly," he began.
"Eradicate all human sacrifice operations. Intercept the evil spiritual entities roaming around."
"Don't take unnecessary actions or meddle in other people's affairs more than needed. Our task is only to prevent the abnormal."
Soon after, the voices of dozens, perhaps hundreds, echoed simultaneously in his head.
"Understood, Master!"
Al simply smiled and deactivated the Glyph. The light dimmed and vanished, as if it had never existed on his wrist.
"Yup. We were victims once, and the world would not accept us back,..." he murmured.
"...But we were ready for that, and we would make sure no more victims were added. And also…"
His voice sharpened.
"…We will ensure that we are accepted by this world once again."
With that declaration, slowly, he let out a slow breath and stared at the ceiling.
Then he moved, tidying up the room, preparing it as a place to sleep for the night.
Not long after, once everything was in order, a black mask appeared in his hand—as if it had come from nowhere.
It was plain, without any pattern, bearing only two openings for the eyes.
"Now it's my turn to deliver punishment," he murmured softly.
He put on the mask.
In an instant, black shadows wrapped around his body, swallowing him whole—and he vanished from the room.
—