Night had fallen again upon Vanhart Estate—not softly, but like a curtain of cold mist sweeping over forgotten stone.
Most lights were out.
Servants retreated.
Voices dimmed.
But Kel von Rosenfeld did not move toward rest.
He rose from his place at the dinner table, offered the smallest nod to Count and Viscount, and with the air of someone who measured fatigue merely as another variable to consider, turned in the opposite direction of his chambers.
His steps traced the familiar path.
Not toward the alchemy chamber.
Not toward meditation grounds.
Toward the library.
Again.
The corridor was dim, lantern flames bowing low as if acknowledging the passage of something colder than the wind. Kel's coat flowed behind him, movement refined, controlled. His hair shifted with each step, black strands glinting silver where moonlight slipped through frosted windowpanes.
He pushed open the library doors.
The scent welcomed him: ink, vellum, lingering traces of dried roots and must.
The lamp from the previous night had been extinguished.
Kel lit a fresh one, setting it upon the center table.
Its light did not chase away the shadows.
It revealed him within them.
The Books Upon Which Magic Slept
Kel moved between shelves with light fingertips, brushing spines softly, eyes scanning patterns.
He was not searching aimlessly.
His gaze stopped at the third northern aisle.
He pulled:
"Basic Arcane Synthesis: Primer for Elemental Channels"
"Anatomy of Magic Flow – Foundational Theory"
"The Nine Natural Elemental Conducts"
"Beginner Spell Matrix Construction"
And lastly… one kept slightly apart from the rest—
"Efficient Casting: Mind-to-Reality Conversion Methods"
His fingers lingered a breath longer on the last title.
He whispered silently.
"…conversion rate."
He knew magic was not simply about energy. It was about translation.
Emotion into intent.
Intent into pattern.
Pattern into reality.
The lamp flickered as he sat.
He opened the first book.
Moonlight slid across his hair.
He began reading.
It Was Not Like Aura
Aura was breath.
Magic was word.
Aura was weight.
Magic was shape.
Kel knew the game's mechanics—how players activated magic using a mental command, how mana was expended, how cooldowns applied. But this world was not a game written in code.
It was alive.
Magic was breath taken by the world itself.
And Kel did not intend to use borrowed breath.
He intended to manipulate the world into exhaling for him.
He began with elemental grasp.
Fire.
He extended his index finger.
Focused.
Mana stirred like a sleeping creature in the center of his chest.
[MANA SYSTEM – UNSEALED]
Awaiting foundational activation.
He breathed.
Not aura breath.
Magic breath.
The difference was precise.
Aura stabilized inside.
Mana stirred to cast outside.
Kel narrowed his eyes.
He formed a three-point structure mentally.
∴ heat
∴ ignite
∴ sustain
He extended his fingertip.
Whispered.
"…Flamma."
A spark obeyed.
Not loud.
Not bright.
A pinprick of ember hovered over his skin.
Shivered once.
Then breathed.
Kel didn't blink.
His eyes reflected flame.
A slow exhale escaped him.
Stable.
He shifted to his palm.
Cast again.
"Flamma."
This time the ember turned to a thin flame trail, like a candle flame stretched across a blade's edge. It flickered without expanding. Low mana use. Controlled.
Kel flicked his wrist.
The flame extinguished.
He opened "Efficient Casting".
Read two lines.
Closed it again.
He understood.
Sairen's voice drifted close.
Stirring magic now? Aura strain hasn't eased.
I need both.
Are you studying for the harlroot… or for the girl?
Both.
…Silence.
Sairen understood, but did not respond.
Kel continued.
He chose the next primary element.
Wind.
He visualized direction.
Curve.
Vector.
He whispered, "Ventum."
A small gust moved across the page, turning it slightly.
The candle flame bent gently.
Kel noted the response time.
Good.
His mana pulse stabilized faster.
Second attempt:
"Ventum."
The air shifted stronger, pushing dust from the pages.
He did not smile.
His expression remained neutral.
But his eyes sharpened a fraction.
Progress adequate.
He stood and reached for an empty sheet from the side table.
Drew with ink—
not complex spells.
Just angles.
Possible mana channeling ratios.
He wrote silently.
Notes:
Fire conversion rate: 1.4 → optimize to 1.2 with breath alignment.
Wind manipulation good candidate for external pressure adjustment—useful in vascular stimulation treatment.
Combine breath technique (internal regulation) with mana matrix (external trigger). High risk. Monitor sync tolerance.
He stopped writing.
A subtle change in his expression occurred.
Eyes lowered.
He whispered a thought only he could hear.
"Transmigrator advantage… is that I know what comes later."
His ink-stained fingers curled slightly.
"In the game, Kel could never cast."
"He died before the magic system unlocked."
He looked at his hand.
A faint glow traced his palm.
"For the first time… I'm ahead of the story."
System Response
*ding*
A faint window appeared.
Magic System Initialization: Basic Elemental Affinity – Fire (Lv.1 acquired)
Basic Elemental Affinity – Wind (Lv.1 acquired)
Mana Handling Efficiency: Above average
Conversion Rate Potential: Exceptional Skill unlocked: "Arcane Interpretation – Transcendent Comprehension (Passive)"
"Increases rate of magical study comprehension dramatically."
Warning: Mental overexertion detected. Recommendation – Cease casting activity within 19 minutes.
Kel exhaled through his nose.
"…Nineteen minutes is generous."
He opened another tome.
Then paused.
His gaze shifted to the window.
Snow drifted.
He studied its movement.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Predictable.
He extended his hand.
Mana pulsed beneath skin.
This time—
no words.
Just intent.
Just calm breath—
silent synchronization
—
Snow paused mid-air for a heartbeat.
Then settled softly on the sill.
Kel's eyes narrowed.
"Stable control without incantation… adaptable."
He closed the books one by one.
Stacked them neatly.
Collected those he would keep for tomorrow's study.
His hands paused over "Beginner Spell Matrix Construction".
Then—
he whispered softly.
"…It won't be 'beginner' for long."
He extinguished the lamp.
Walked toward his room in darkness.
Not because light was unnecessary.
Because learning to walk without seeing was training too.
Only at the threshold did he pause.
Eyes forward.
Expression unreadable.
He murmured into the night.
"Second day of treatment. First day of magic."
His breath clouded faintly.
"I need both."
Then—
so quiet it seemed unintentional—
"…I must be able to rebuild."
He turned.
Walked on.
Within darkness.
With becoming flame.