He reappeared instantly in front of Felix's house.
The late afternoon light painted the yard in warm gold. Rose stood at the doorway, standing on her toes as she placed a soft goodbye kiss on Arven's cheek.
Lucien froze.
"…I should have come later," he muttered.
Arven noticed him and stiffened. "Hey—wait, wait. It's not like that."
Lucien coughed lightly. "…Okay."
Rose turned, surprised. "Why did you come here?"
Lucien straightened. "I need to ask you something about Felix, Lady Roswal."
Rose frowned immediately. "Don't call me lady."
Lucien paused.
"I'm not a Roswal," Rose continued calmly. "Only Felix is. He was accepted by my father—Arven wasn't."
Her eyes softened for a moment. "My father is still unhappy about our marriage."
Lucien nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his expression.
"Please," Rose said, stepping aside. "Come in. Let's talk."
Arven followed them inside, closing the door behind him.
They sat.
The room was quiet, filled only with the faint crackle of the hearth.
Lucien leaned forward.
"What I want to ask is simple," he said carefully. "Is Felix… your biological child?"
Rose and Arven exchanged a glance.
Then, slowly, they told him everything.
How they had found Felix.
How they had discovered the phoenix egg.
And how the child—and the egg—had come into their lives together.
As the story unfolded, Lucien's expression grew more serious with every word.
By the time they finished, the room felt heavier than before.
Not with tension—
But with the weight of something ancient beginning to stir.
Lucien leaned back slightly.
"Your secret is safe with me," he said calmly.
Then his tone shifted.
"But for your information—Felix is a genius."
Arven and Rose stiffened.
"He's already an Apprentice Mage," Lucien continued. "Can you believe that? And he's only five years old."
Silence fell.
Rose's eyes widened. Arven stared, speechless.
Lucien stood. "I should go."
Neither of them stopped him.
Lucien returned to Felix not long after.
Felix was kneeling on the ground, breathing hard. Sweat clung to his hair, his chest rising and falling as faint traces of mana flickered around his body—thin, unstable, nearly gone.
Lucien appeared beside him.
"You came back," Felix said weakly.
"Yes," Lucien replied. "I'm back."
Felix looked up. "How did it go?"
Lucien waved it off lightly. "Everything's fine. Nothing serious."
Felix nodded, relieved.
For the next half month, the routine continued.
Felix trained until exhaustion, rested, then trained again. His control sharpened. His endurance grew. The flow of mana through his body became smoother, more natural.
One morning, Lucien spoke differently.
"Felix," he said, "you're going to join some mages on their missions."
Felix froze.
"…Really?"
Lucien nodded. "Yes. You can join them."
Felix's exhaustion vanished instantly, replaced by bright excitement.
"I can really go?"
"Yes," Lucien confirmed. "You can."
The next phase of Felix's life had begun—not in a classroom, but in the real world, where magic was tested by blood, fear, and consequence.
Mage Tower — Lucien's Office
Inside Lucien Morvale's office, the air was quiet, heavy with lingering mana.
Three female mages stood before his desk.
One leaned back with her arms crossed, sharp eyes and an irritated expression.
Another stood slightly behind, hands clasped nervously, gaze flickering away whenever Lucien looked at her.
The third smiled easily, posture relaxed, eyes warm and curious.
Lucien spoke calmly.
"I want you three to look after my apprentice on this mission."
The sharp-eyed mage snapped upright.
"…Apprentice?"
"Yes," Lucien said. "I took one recently."
The friendly mage tilted her head. "At what level?"
"Apprentice Mage."
All three froze.
"You're joking," the first one said flatly.
Lucien didn't smile.
"He'll be joining this mission. Your job is to look after him."
"Yes, Master," the friendly mage said first.
Lucien turned toward the door. "Come in."
The door opened.
Felix stepped inside.
White hair. Red velvet eyes.
But not an adult.
A five-year-old child.
The room went silent.
"…This is a joke," the sharp-eyed mage said. "He's just a kid."
She crouched slightly. "Hey, how old are you? Seven?"
Felix shook his head. "No. I'm five."
"…Five?" the shy mage whispered. "Not even six?"
The sharp-eyed mage turned on Lucien.
"Master, did you seriously bring us here to babysit?"
Lucien's gaze hardened.
"No," he said. "He is a real Apprentice Mage."
Silence.
"…Fine," the sharp-eyed mage muttered. "Whatever."
Lucien nodded. "Felix, introduce yourself."
Felix straightened. "My name is Felix Roswal."
Lucien gestured toward the three women. "You three as well."
The sharp-eyed mage sighed.
"I'm Kaelra Vane. Don't slow me down."
The shy mage hesitated, then spoke softly.
"…I'm Mirelle Aster."
The friendly mage smiled brightly.
"And I'm Seris Lune. Nice to meet you, Felix."
Felix nodded to all three.
Lucien turned serious.
"The mission is simple," he said.
"Mountain bandits have been attacking merchant caravans. They don't just steal goods—they sell people to slave traders."
The room grew colder.
"Especially women and children," Lucien continued.
"Your task is to locate their base and confirm their numbers."
He looked directly at Felix.
"This is your first real mission."
Felix met his gaze without flinching.
"You can do it," Lucien said. "I know you can."
Felix nodded.
"Yes."
"Now move."
Lucien raised his hand.
A magic circle bloomed beneath their feet—complex runes spinning, light surging upward.
"Teleport."
The world twisted.
They vanished.
Thud.
They crashed onto solid ground.
Rock bit into skin. Cold air rushed into lungs. The sharp scent of pine and damp earth filled the air as they landed somewhere deep in the mountains.
"Ow—geez!" Kaelra snapped, pushing herself up. "That guy could at least give a warning!"
Mirelle hurriedly sat up, flustered. "Y–You shouldn't curse in front of a child…"
Kaelra clicked her tongue. "Okay, fine. My bad. But seriously—"
She rubbed her shoulder. "He really sent a child on a dangerous mission."
From beneath her, a muffled voice spoke.
"…Um. Could you get up?"
Seris blinked. "Wait—why does it sound like I'm sitting on someone?"
Kaelra froze.
"…Where's the kid?"
"Mmph—hmph!"
All three of them stiffened at once.
Slowly, they looked down.
They had all fallen on top of Felix.
Poor Felix lay beneath them, arms pinned, face squished slightly against the rocky ground, white hair sticking out at odd angles.
Kaelra jumped up instantly. "—Oh no."
Seris scrambled back. "Felix! Are you okay?!"
Mirelle covered her mouth in horror. "W–We're so sorry!"
Felix finally sat up, rubbing his head.
"…Next time," he said calmly, "can we land one at a time?"
The mountain wind whispered through the trees.
For a moment—
No one laughed.
Then Seris did.
And the mission truly began.
"So," Kaelra said, brushing dust from her coat, "where exactly are we supposed to find them?"
Seris looked around at the endless stretch of forest and stone.
"We don't have any clues at all."
Kaelra smirked slightly. "Well… this is going to be interesting."
Felix tilted his head, listening.
"…I hear water."
All three mages paused.
Felix pointed ahead. "There. A river."
Sure enough, a narrow river cut through the mountain path, water rushing over smooth stones with a steady, echoing sound.
Seris smiled. "Good ears."
Kaelra shook her head. "Don't get distracted. Rivers are common hideouts, but we don't rush in blind."
She turned back to Felix as they started walking.
"By the way," she said, "what kind of magic do you use? Which element?"
Felix thought for a moment.
"…Fire," he said first. "Water. Wind. Earth."
The three mages stopped walking.
"…You just named four," Mirelle said quietly.
Felix blinked. "Is that bad?"
Kaelra stared at him. "Kid… most mages struggle with one."
Seris laughed softly, though there was unease behind it.
"Looks like this mission won't be boring after all."
The river continued to rush beside them, carrying their voices downstream—
unaware that somewhere ahead, eyes were already watching from the shadows.
They searched the entire mountain.
Ridges, caves, narrow paths—nothing. No hideout. No signs of campfires. No tracks that stayed long enough to follow.
Kaelra clicked her tongue. "Either they vanished—or we're missing something."
Suddenly, Felix stopped.
"…Did you hear that?"
The others fell silent.
From far ahead, faint but unmistakable—
the clash of metal. Shouts. A struggle.
"Someone's fighting," Felix said.
They rushed toward the sound.
They broke through the trees and froze.
A carriage lay stopped on the mountain road, its wheels cracked, guards already down. Bandits surrounded it in a loose circle, weapons drawn.
It wasn't a noble carriage.
It was a royal coach.
Carved clearly on its side was an emblem—radiant and unmistakable.
"Elanador," Mirelle whispered.
"The Holy Empire," Seris said quietly.
Kaelra's jaw tightened. "We have to help them."
"But how?" Mirelle asked. "We're outnumbered."
Felix stepped forward.
"I have a plan."
Kaelra spun on him. "Are you serious? That's too dangerous—Felix."
Felix looked back at her, calm.
"Trust me."
Before anyone could stop him—
Felix vanished.
He reappeared instantly at the carriage door.
A bandit was already there, blade raised.
Felix moved first.
"Wind Gale."
A sharp burst of compressed air exploded forward.
The bandit was thrown back, crashing into another with a dull thud.
The rest turned instantly.
"…It's just a kid," one of them laughed.
They advanced.
Felix bent down and grabbed a fallen sword.
It felt heavier than the practice blades at home—but familiar.
He lowered his stance.
Feet apart. Knees bent. Blade angled forward, steady and controlled.
The way his father taught him.
"Look at him," a bandit mocked. "He's holding a sword. How cute."
"Let's see what you've got, brat."
The bandit lunged.
Steel rang.
Felix parried.
Again.
Then he stepped in—
a sharp diagonal strike from low left to high right.
The impact shook his arms.
The bandit barely blocked it.
Felix didn't hesitate.
He thrust his palm forward.
"Wind Palm."
The invisible force slammed into the bandit's chest.
Just like his father's strike.
The man was hurled backward, crashing hard into the dirt.
Felix exhaled slowly.
"Two down," he said calmly.
His red eyes lifted to the rest.
"Now… eight of you."
He adjusted his grip on the sword.
"Let's see what you've got."
Felix vanished, reappearing behind one of them—but the bandit parried just in time, steel clashing sharply.
Felix didn't hesitate.
He stomped the ground, manipulating earth, and combined it with a gust of wind. Dust and dirt erupted into a thick, choking cloud, blinding the bandits.
Within the haze, a shadow moved. A blade fell.
When the dust settled, the first bandit had been struck down—motionless, defeated.
The second bandit froze. All he could see was the sword—Felix was nowhere in sight.
Then, from the cracked earth below, Felix surged upward. His fist slammed into the bandit's jaw. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
"Wind Impact," Felix said calmly.
The force detonated, hurling the bandit backward. He hit the ground hard, leaving the field clear.
Felix landed lightly, now unarmed.
The remaining six bandits advanced, thinking the child was finished.
That's when the girls acted. Magic flared from their hands, each targeting one bandit. Fire spiraled, water surged, and lightning danced—every spell precise and devastating, keeping the enemies off balance and giving Felix the opening he needed.
Felix's red eyes glinted calmly as he assessed the attackers.
Felix shifted his stance, fingers crackling with energy.
"Two down… now six," he muttered.
Kaelra stepped forward, fire coiling around her hands.
"Flame Bind!"
Chains of fire shot up from the rocky ground, wrapping around one bandit and pinning him against a boulder. He struggled, screams swallowed by the roar of flames.
"Stay still, you fool!" she snapped, her hair whipping as the fire surged.
Mirelle hesitated a moment, then whispered, her voice soft but sharp.
"Frost Thread."
Water vapor rose from the mountain floor and shot toward another bandit. The strands froze midair, wrapping around his legs, yanking him off balance before locking him in place. He flailed, trapped like a marionette, helpless.
Seris grinned, stepping lightly over the uneven stones.
"Thunder Whisper!"
Lightning danced along her fingertips, striking one bandit after another in a rapid chain, forcing them to stagger back, hair singed and muscles frozen from electric shocks.
Felix's six opponents tried to regroup, but the combination of elemental attacks and chaos kept them off-balance.
He dashed forward, moving like a shadow. Without a weapon, he relied on Earth and Wind—kicking up dust, sweeping legs, delivering punches charged with air pressure. Every strike was precise; every movement calculated.
A bandit swung wildly. Felix vanished, reappearing behind him, and the next bandit felt a sharp gust knock him backward.
"Wind Gale!" Felix shouted, spinning, his foot sweeping another off his feet.
Kaelra roared, sending one bandit flying with a whip of fire.
Mirelle froze two more in place, their movements halted completely by her ice threads.
Seris darted between enemies, lightning lancing through armor and sending shockwaves across the rocky ground.
In moments, the battlefield was littered with defeated bandits—some unconscious, some pinned by elemental magic, and all stunned by the coordinated attack of a five-year-old prodigy and three elite mages.
Felix landed lightly, chest rising and falling, dust clinging to his white hair.
Kaelra smirked despite herself.
"…Not bad for a kid."
Seris laughed, brushing soot from her robes.
"You actually kept up with us!"
Mirelle simply adjusted her grip on her staff, a small smile forming.
"…He's… incredible."
Felix looked at them calmly, his red eyes shining.
"Now, let's finish this. There are more to catch."
The mountain echoed with the whirling magic of a coordinated team—the boy at the center, his power undeniable, the girls complementing him perfectly.
They approached the royal coach cautiously.
From inside, a figure emerged—the queen, regal and composed, and at her side, a young girl who seemed around Felix's age.
The moment Felix's eyes met the girl's, something inside him shifted. His chest tightened. His heart raced. His vision blurred, filled with fragments of a past he didn't fully understand. Memories that were not his, yet felt as real as blood coursing through his veins, flashed before him.
Without thinking, a single word escaped his lips:
"Yuri…"
His knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground.