It was 4 a.m. Felix was still asleep when a bucket of cold water splashed over him.
"Wake up."
Felix jolted upright, gasping. "W–what happened?!"
"Training time," Arven said calmly. "First, warm-up. Since you're a kid, one kilometer. Then sword practice. Move."
Before Felix could protest, Arven turned away.
By the time Felix returned, chest heaving and legs burning, Arven was waiting in the yard.
Without a word, he tossed a wooden sword. Felix caught it on instinct.
Arven took his stance—relaxed, grounded, unreadable."First move is yours, Felix."
Felix inhaled, steadied himself, and lunged. His blade cut diagonally from low left to high right—a clean slash.
Arven parried easily.
"Too slow," he said. "Look for an opening."
Felix clenched his teeth and struck again, faster this time.
Parried.
He followed immediately with a horizontal slash, pressing his momentum—
—and suddenly, Arven was behind him.
Felix's eyes widened.
Arven hadn't drawn his sword. He struck with his palm.
Compressed air erupted from the blow, slamming into Felix's back and hurling him forward.
Midair, Felix twisted, forcing himself to stabilize. He drove his wooden sword into the ground to slow his momentum, boots skidding through dirt.
He looked up.
Nothing.
"Where did he—?"
Left? Right? Behind?
Felix spun.
Empty.
Then instinct screamed.
He looked up.
A spinning wooden sword fell straight toward him.
Felix barely raised his guard in time. The impact rattled his arms, sending a sharp tremor through them.
But it was only the sword.
"Where is he—?"
The ground beneath Felix burst open.
Arven erupted upward like a phantom, his palm slamming into Felix's jaw.
The impact launched him skyward.
For an instant, the world flipped.
Then—
Thud.
Felix crashed into the garden his mother had carefully prepared for flowers, his head buried in the soil, body sticking out awkwardly.
Silence followed.
Arven looked down at him.
"…You still need work," he said calmly.
From the dirt came a muffled voice."That's cheating…"
Arven crossed his arms. "In a real fight, your opponent will do anything to win. There are no rules. If you hesitate, you die."
Felix pulled his head free, dirt clinging to his hair and face. His jaw throbbed, but his eyes burned with determination.
"So you need to be perfect," Arven continued. "A strong body. A sharp mind. No blind spots."
Felix wiped his mouth and stood, gripping the wooden sword tightly.
"Fine," he said between breaths. "Next time… I'll defeat you. For sure."
Arven paused, then allowed a faint smile.
"We'll see."
He turned away. "Go. Lucien is waiting."
Without looking back, he added, "For your homework—create your own stance. One that suits you. Don't copy mine."
Felix watched his father walk away, his grip tightening around the sword.
"…My own stance," he muttered.
The thought sent a strange thrill through him.
"Also," Arven said coldly, "don't use the butler's teleportation circle to reach the Mage Tower. Run there yourself."
Felix froze. "But the Mage Tower is nine kilometers away."
"No arguments."
The glare crushed any protest.
"…Fine," Felix muttered.
Hours later, Felix staggered through the Mage Tower gates, clothes soaked with sweat, legs trembling. His chest burned with every breath.
Lucien was already waiting.
"…Damn," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You look like a wreck. What happened?"
Felix bent forward, hands on his knees. "Sword training… before I came."
Lucien nodded slowly. "So your warm-up is done."
Felix looked up, eyes wide.
"Good," Lucien continued calmly. "Then let's begin your magic training. And from now on, call me Master… or Teacher."
He raised his hand. "Now—let's go."
"Incantation Magic: Teleportation."
The world twisted.
They reappeared somewhere else entirely.
Felix's breath caught.
A massive waterfall thundered down towering cliffs into a clear lake below. Smooth stones floated across the water's surface, untouched by erosion, as if placed deliberately. Birds called from unseen branches, their voices blending with the rush of falling water. Beneath it all, the subtle hum of aquatic life pulsed through the lake.
The air was impossibly pure—cool and warm at once. Mana filled the space, dense yet gentle, flowing freely without harming anything.
This wasn't wilderness.
It was harmony.
Felix swallowed. "This… this is beautiful."
It felt unreal—like a place no human mind could imagine, let alone reach. A fragment of heaven hidden within the world.
Then—
Green light enveloped him.
Mana surged into his body, warm and soothing. Exhaustion faded. Muscles repaired themselves. His breathing steadied. The ache in his limbs vanished as if it had never existed.
Felix stared at his glowing hands. "I'm… healing?"
Lucien watched closely. "Naturally."
"What is this place?"
"The World Tree Replica."
"Replica?"
"The real World Tree disappeared during the Great Race War."
"…Why?"
Lucien's gaze darkened. "It is said the World Tree grew angry. Its creations could not coexist."
"Creations?"
"A legend," Lucien said. "The World Tree created the gods. The gods created humanity. So indirectly… we exist because of the World Tree."
Felix fell silent, absorbing the weight of the words.
Lucien clapped once. "Enough history. Let's begin your lesson."
He stepped closer. "First—gather mana. Close your eyes. Don't force it. Breathe, and draw it in naturally, as if the world itself is lending you strength."
Felix nodded and obeyed.
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time—
The world breathed back.
"Good," Lucien said calmly. "Just like that."
Time passed quietly, broken only by the distant roar of the waterfall and the steady rhythm of Felix's breathing.
When Felix opened his eyes, the world felt clearer—sharper.
Lucien studied him. "How did you store your mana?"
"Store it?"
"A circle around your heart? A mana core?"
Felix shook his head. "Neither."
Lucien stiffened. "What?"
Silence followed.
"Does anyone else know this?" Lucien asked carefully.
"No. Only you."
Lucien exhaled and straightened. "This is a huge discovery. Using magic without a core or circle shouldn't be possible. If we uncover what this truly is… our names could be written into history."
Felix nodded, not fully grasping the weight of it. "Okay. You can research it."
Lucien raised his hand. "Then I'll check it myself."
His eyes shimmered as Mana Vision activated.
The moment his sight pierced Felix's body—
Lucien froze.
Mana wasn't gathering in a core. It wasn't circulating through a circle.
It was everywhere.
It flowed through muscle, bone, blood, and nerves like a living current—integrated, endless.
Lucien's hands trembled.
"…Mana veins."
A system believed lost to ancient history. Older than cores. Older than circles.
Slowly, his gaze returned to Felix.
"Use any magic you know."
Felix raised a finger. "Flint."
A small flame bloomed above his fingertip.
Lucien's breath caught.
"…Did you just say the name?"
"Yes."
"No incantation…"
Lucien steadied himself. "You already understand the basics."
He explained the forms of magic.
Then he met Felix's eyes.
"But mana veins… that's what makes you extraordinary."
"Gather mana somewhere else," Lucien said. "Your eyes."
Felix focused.
The world transformed.
Mana revealed itself—threads of light everywhere.
Lucien stared.
"…First try."
"How much mana do you have?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"How many times have you used Flint?"
"I lost count."
"Why?"
"To feed it."
"…Feed what?"
"The egg. It eats fire."
Lucien closed his eyes.
"…A phoenix egg."
"I'll speak with your parents," he said. Then he smiled.
"You can already use the next level of magic."
Felix stiffened.
"You are officially an Apprentice Mage."
The mana around them stirred.
"And this," Lucien said quietly, "is only the beginning."
He vanished.