Fourteen years have passed since that starlit conversation with God. I was reborn into this world as an orphan, a start that felt all too familiar. I never let it bother me much, but sometimes I can't help but wonder—is it my destiny to always walk this path alone?
In this life, I have the appearance of a typical child: messy black hair and striking blue eyes. It's a strange feeling, being trapped in a small body again after living a full adult life. But luck was on my side this time. I was adopted by a man who is something of a legend in this empire—a renowned former adventurer.
I call him Grandpa Clif. He's a kind, gentle soul, standing about 1.70 meters tall with a magnificent, flowing white beard. He always carries a staff that, according to the rumors, is a legendary artifact from a bygone era. I've been pestering him to teach me magic for years, but he always gave me the same answer: "Wait until you're fifteen, Alex."
This world is far more complex than the games I used to program. It's teeming with intelligent life. Beyond the reclusive elves of the Sylvan Glades and the diverse demi-human tribes of the Sunstone Steppes, there are dragons that soar above the clouds and demons that lurk in the shadows. Sentient, powerful monsters rule the untamed reaches of the Whispering Woods and the Scarred Wastes.
But none of that concerns me. My goal is simple: I want to live a normal, peaceful life. And if anyone is foolish enough to try and take that away from me? Well, they'll live just long enough to regret it.
"Alex! Come here, quickly!" Clif's voice echoed from the backyard.
"I'm coming, Grandpa!" I shouted back, jogging out to meet him. "What's going on?"
Clif was sitting on the grass, his gaze fixed on the vast, open sky. He looked older today, more fragile.
"I've realized that my time is drawing to a close," he said softly. "I've been carrying a terminal illness—a souvenir from my final mission. I managed to slay a high-ranking Demon who had kidnapped a nobleman's son, but the bastard used a cursed artifact with his dying breath. I've spent years fighting it with a spell I developed called 'Anti-Curse,' but I'm reaching my limit. I have maybe five months left before it consumes me entirely."
My heart sank. Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. "That... that can't be true, Grandpa. I don't want to lose you."
Clif reached out, his weathered hand gentle as he wiped a tear from my cheek. "Don't cry, my boy. In the time I have left, I will teach you everything I know. Consider it my final gift to you, Alex."
True to his word, our training began a week later. Clif started with the fundamentals: mana circulation. For a mage, the ability to accumulate and control mana is the foundation of everything.
After a few days of meditation, Clif looked at me thoughtfully. "I also want to train you in the way of the sword. I don't know for sure if your affinity for magic will develop, and a man should always have a backup plan."
I blinked in surprise. "Wait, you know how to use a sword? I thought you were strictly a mage."
Clif let out a hearty laugh, stroking his long beard as he leaned on his staff. "Of course, grandson! You still have a great deal to learn about this old man."
As twilight began to paint the sky in shades of purple and gold, Clif stood up and cast a powerful invisibility spell over both of us.
"I want to show you something special, Alex," he whispered.
He took my hand, and suddenly, we were airborne. We flew toward a desolate expanse known as the Training Grounds of the Obsidian Plain. When we landed in the center of the field, Clif struck his staff against the ground twice. A massive, intricate magic circle flared into existence, and the earth groaned as it parted, revealing a hidden stone staircase leading deep underground.
"What is this place?" I asked, staring into the darkness.
"A royal hideout," Clif explained. "The former king used this vault to store legendary swords, enchanted armor, and high-level equipment. Only the king and I knew of its existence. Now, I want you to go down there and choose a weapon for yourself. Think of it as a gift from this old man."
He nudged me toward the stairs. "Go on, quickly! I'll stay up here and keep watch."
"I'll be right back, Grandpa. Wait for me!"
I hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, I found a chamber lined with rows of weapons that shimmered with latent power. I passed by several ornate longswords and rapiers, but my eyes were drawn to a medium-sized black sword. It pulsed with a faint, ominous purple aura. It looked relatively simple, save for a small skull etched into the crossguard.
I felt a strange pull toward it. I gripped the hilt, and a surge of energy traveled up my arm. I raised it high, a grin spreading across my face. "Now you're mine!"
"Alex! Are you done?" Clif's voice drifted down from above.
I ran back up the stairs, sword in hand. "I got one, Grandpa!"
"Good, let's move," Clif said urgently. "I just spotted a patrol of the King's Shadows—the elite soldiers. They almost caught a glimpse of me. We need to leave, now."
"Right behind you!"
A few days later, we were back at the house. Clif stood before a large diagram on the wall, using a wand to point at different symbols.
"There are six primary elements in this world," he lectured. "Earth, Water, Fire, and Air are the common ones. Then there are the rare affinities: Light and Darkness. Let's head to the backyard and see where you stand."
We stepped out onto the porch. I was buzzing with anticipation. "So, what do I do?"
"Just hold out your hand and call the name of the element," Clif instructed.
I took a deep breath. "Water!" Nothing. "Air!" Still nothing. "Earth!" Silence.
Then, I tried one more. "Fire!"
A tiny, flickering spark danced on the tip of my finger. I let out a sigh of relief and looked at Clif.
"Excellent, Alex! Now, let's test for Light and Darkness. These are exceptionally rare. Light is usually the domain of high priests, while Darkness is often tied to demonic classes."
"Light!" I shouted. Nothing. "Darkness!" Again, nothing happened.
Clif nodded slowly. "It seems Fire is your path, then. But don't be discouraged—having a natural elemental affinity is a great start. You've already mastered mana accumulation, which is half the battle. Now, I'm going to teach you how to make that spark a roar. Close your eyes."
"They're closed. Now what?"
"Visualize the fire in your mind. Do you see the flame?"
"Yeah, I see it."
"Now, visualize your mana."
I focused. "Okay, I see them both. But the fire is a solid ball, and my mana is just... scattered everywhere like mist."
"This is the easy part," Clif encouraged. "In your mind, your mana is yours to command. Shape it. Mold that scattered mist into a sphere, just like the fireball. Infuse your personal mana with the elemental essence of Fire. If you practice this every day, you'll be casting high-level spells before you know it."
"Wow... that's incredible, Grandpa!"
I looked at the old man with newfound respect. In his prime, he must have been an absolute monster on the battlefield.
By the time we finished, the sun had long since set. My brain felt fried from the mental exertion. "Hey, Grandpa, I'm beat. I think I'm gonna crash."
"Of course, my son. Rest well."
I stumbled into my room, collapsed onto the bed, and was out before my head even hit the pillow.