After a long walk—interrupted by several short breaks and small exercises to train his Mana control—Gabriel finally reached his destination: the Grimoire Tower of Hage Village.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and entered the tower, filling out the required identification forms.
As a small note behind all of this: the identity granted to him by the Infinity Room was that of a citizen of the Clover Kingdom… an illegitimate child from a noble bloodline that had long since been stripped of its status.
Recalling how absurdly dramatic that background sounded, Gabriel could only let out a quiet sigh.
"…What a hassle."
But he didn't dwell on it. To him, an identity was nothing more than a social mask—and his true mask lay far deeper than that.
Without wasting any more time, Gabriel stepped into the tower's central hall.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of Grimoires were neatly arranged on towering shelves that surrounded the room. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and lingering mana.
Within that silence, Gabriel raised his left hand and slowly let his magic flow outward.
He waited.
Waiting for one Grimoire among the countless others… to resonate with him.
***
Almost at the same moment, far from Hage Village—upon an active volcano whose breath roared with living magma—stood a woman.
She had sharp blue eyes and long, wavy crimson hair, fluttering violently in the scorching wind.
The cliff beneath her feet was cracked and blackened, the air itself trembling under the overwhelming heat.
Her attire was simple yet resolute: a white tunic layered beneath a long, dark-blue shirt with a high collar. The hem was decorated with vertical line patterns, and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, as if she were always ready to fight at any moment.
In one hand, she held a pale white Grimoire.
On one side of its cover were engraved three pairs of angelic wings. On the other, unmistakably etched, was the symbol of a five-leaf clover.
In her other hand, she grasped a pale white feather—hard as metal, shaped like an ancient quill, cold to the touch despite the infernal heat of the volcano.
That woman was Mereoleona Vermilion.
She stared at the book in her hand for a long moment.
Her brow slowly furrowed.
"...Hold on a second."
Her eyes narrowed, sharp with suspicion.
"Since when do Grimoires fly around on their own?"
She lifted the book slightly, turning the cover.
"And on top of that… five leaves?"
Her gaze rose toward the smoke-choked sky.
"Things like this usually seek out their owner… not get lost in a place like this."
She glanced at the metallic feather in her other hand, then clicked her tongue softly.
"And this strange thing… fell from the sky like a tiny meteor."
Mereoleona clicked her tongue again, then let out a low chuckle—not out of amusement, but intrigue.
"Hah… interesting."
Her hand tightened slightly into a fist.
"If this thing really is searching for someone… then that means a little monster was just born into this world, huh?"
She grinned.
"Now you've got me curious."
***
"Haaah~"
A long sigh slipped from Gabriel's lips. A faint yet undeniable sense of disappointment lingered in his chest.
The image of the one hour he had wasted inside the Grimoire Tower still echoed in his mind.
Not a single book had floated toward him. None had reacted to his Mana call.
And so, he had left without looking back.
Now, Gabriel walked along a narrow forest path, idly biting into a wild fruit whose name he didn't even know. A sour-sweet taste spread across his tongue as his pace slowed.
"…yeah, forget it," he muttered softly.
The Persona Ash latched back into place, his tone turning cold, echoing like mist brushing against a gravestone.
"…even pale mist has no need for a book to record its spells."
He bit into the fruit once more—this time deeper.
His gaze sharpened.
He had already decided on his next objective.
"Ash will withdraw… and study new power."
His lips curved upward.
With quicker steps, Gabriel followed the forest path toward a secluded place.
A place that had caught his attention—silent, hidden, and safe enough to conduct experiments and magical procedures without drawing anyone's notice.
***
After nearly twenty-four hours of travel—broken only by short rests and small exercises to circulate Mana through his body—Gabriel finally arrived at the place he had in mind.
Before him yawned the mouth of a cave.
But it was not empty.
Ten men in black robes stood there in a loose formation. Some leaned against the rocky walls, while others gripped crude staves and rusted daggers.
Their faces were rough, marked by old scars, and their eyes—sharp with wariness—locked onto him the moment he appeared.
The air grew tense.
One of them stepped forward. Broad-shouldered, with a heavy voice, he spoke.
"Oi, kid… this ain't a playground. Get lost before you disappear."
Gabriel stopped walking.
Slowly, he lifted his face. Black hair covered his eyes, his bangs swaying gently in the wind.
The shovel resting on his shoulder remained still.
He let out a small sigh.
"…I thought so too."
The words echoed in his mind, fitting the moment almost perfectly—while in front of him, the bandit frowned.
"Huh...?"
Gabriel took a single step forward.
From behind the bangs that concealed both his eyes, the geometric patterns of Gigan spun briefly. Then—magic circles of Gigan manifested before each of his eyes.
At the same time, Gigan's circuits spread into the surrounding air. Their reflections appeared in the bandits' eyes—the same magic circles, as though reality itself had been forced to share Gabriel's point of view.
He traced their pasts, swiftly—like opening a book and flipping through its pages. At their core, those pasts were still forgivable, needing only a single push.
In an instant, something within him shifted. His calm aura slowly transformed—into something cold, oppressive, and heavy.
"This place…" he said softly, almost like a whisper directed at the world itself, "…is perfect for seclusion."
A few of the bandits snickered.
"Your ears busted or something?"
"Creepy little brat."
Gabriel raised the shovel in his right hand and leveled it forward.
Pale white mana began to swirl gently around his fingers—thin, almost imperceptible, yet somehow… wrong.
As if the world itself refused to acknowledge it.
"So," he said calmly, "leave."
Silence.
One of the bandits burst out laughing.
"Chasing us out of our own base?"
He stepped closer, a wide sneer on his face.
"You got no idea who you're messing with—"
Gabriel tilted his head.
His voice was flat.
"No. You're the ones who don't know… what you're standing in front of."
One of the bandits clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Damn brat…"
His hand snapped to the pouch at his waist, yanking out a battered grimoire with a three-leaf clover on its cover. A red magical aura surged around his body as the pages flipped open roughly.
"Fire Magic: Fireball!!"
Flames compressed in front of his palm.
In the next instant, a basketball-sized fireball shot straight toward Gabriel.
But behind the bangs concealing his eyes, Gigan shimmered.
In Gabriel's perception, the world slowed.
The tongues of flame split into lines of mana. Their structure unraveled. The trajectory laid itself bare.
"…Slow."
Gabriel grinned.
One step.
His body slid to the side. The fireball passed through the space where his head had been a moment earlier and slammed into the cave wall.
BOOM…!!!
The explosion thundered, heat and debris roaring past him as scorched stone shattered behind his back.
Dust and shards of stone flew everywhere.
Before the smoke could even clear, Gabriel planted his stance. Pale white mana snaked from his body into the tactical Shovel in his hand, weaving like coiled threads.
The blade gleamed faintly.
"…Turn."
With a single stomp of his foot, Gabriel vanished from his original spot.
His body shot forward.
Piercing.
The tip of the Shovel struck the bandit's chest.
BOOM!!
It wasn't just a stab.
A shockwave erupted from the point of impact.
The sound of cracking bones rang out sharply.
CRACK…!!!
The bandit's body was thrown backward, slamming into the cave wall with a heavy thud.
DUAAAGH…!!!
Dust fell from the cave ceiling.
Silence.
The nine remaining bandits gaped.
Some instinctively stepped back.
The others gritted their teeth. They realized… they had just awakened something they shouldn't have touched.
Gabriel drew back his Shovel.
His breathing remained calm.
The aura around him—cold.
"…Next?"
"Bastard!!" shouted one bandit, eyes blazing with murderous intent. "All of you! Attack this arrogant kid together!!"
"Yeah…!!!"
The nine bandits moved almost in unison. One by one, their three-leaf clover Grimoires opened, pages trembling as they emitted mana auras of varying characteristics.
"Vine Magic: Binding Rope!"
Roots and vines snaked up from the ground, crawling rapidly toward Gabriel's feet.
But Gabriel had already leapt.
His body floated lightly in the air.
"Earth Magic: Stone Arrow!"
"Water Magic: Water Spear!"
Three stone arrows and a single water spear formed in midair, shooting straight toward Gabriel's still-unlanded body.
Behind his bangs, Gigan gleamed.
Once again, the world slowed before his eyes.
The mana trajectories unfolded clearly.