Sun Origin?
"Why are you all so gloomy? It's not like I'm dying," Mother said, her gaze drifting to the window. "It's just… I'm dealing with a somewhat unique condition."
From the look on her face, it was clear she understood her situation but had chosen not to disclose it.
"Verdi, there's no need to bring anyone else for treatment anymore. It's pointless, and I think you realize that too, don't you?" Her voice softened as she cast a serious glance at Father. "I'll return to normal in a few years."
Nodding, I took Mizuki by the arm and led her out of the room, giving them some space.
As soon as we left, Mizuki clung to me tightly, bursting into tears.
"Arai…"
"Yes?"
"Will Mother be okay? Will she wake up soon?" Mizuki asked between sobs, lifting her tear-streaked face to look at me.
Her shimmering, tear-filled eyes filled me with a profound sense of pity.
Not wanting to crush her hopes, I smiled confidently and said, "Of course!"
I'm an adult, I can live without my parents. I can endure having Mother in a coma.
Mizuki, however, is just a little girl, barely eight years old. The fact that she's held out this long is a testament to her strength. She's inherited the best traits from both our parents or rather, this girl is simply strong in her own right.
She's managed to overcome the shock of being unable to use mana and has remained resilient despite Mother's prolonged absence.
I turned my gaze to the crimson moon outside the window, silently wishing for things to get better.
...
Three months had passed.
I lay sprawled on the usual tree in the courtyard, gazing at the grand manor through one of its sturdy branches. The warm spring sun kissed my skin, and the cheerful chirping of birds filled the air. It was the season of renewal, yet I felt anything but revitalized.
I hadn't managed to open my grimoire, and I still wasn't even a rank one sorcerer. That cursed book remained firmly sealed despite all my attempts to pry it open.
The only consolation I had was that the so-called teacher Verdi promised still hadn't shown up.
Between physical training and my mysterious grimoire, I was sinking deeper into a pit of frustration and despair.
My daily routine was enough to drive anyone mad. Mornings were spent enduring grueling physical training under Haist's relentless supervision, running, push-ups, squats, jumps, and more. Even my meals were drastically reduced in portions, making the entire experience torturous.
At night, I sat through private lessons on the management of the duchy, handling documents, courtly etiquette, and other tedious formalities.
My dreary schedule for the next ten years had already been mapped out: in five years, I'd enter the royal academy; three years later, I'd join the military; and five years after that, I'd be married, and ready to inherit the title of duke.
The mere thought of this timeline ignited a smoldering anger within me, a black flame fueled by frustration and resentment.
I didn't even have time to analyze the magical artifacts or that ancient relic in my possession!
Haist's training left my body aching constantly. During the first month, there were days I could barely move due to the intense strain on my muscles.
"I feel sick today. Can I take a break?" I'd try my luck.
"No," Haist would reply coldly. "If you're that ill, drink a healing potion. Your father's a duke, so I'm sure he has plenty lying around."
What did this guy have against me?
Sometimes, I couldn't help but wonder if he bore some personal grudge. The disparity between how he treated Mizuki and me was like night and day.
On the brighter side, I managed to learn three level zero spells: Fireball, Light Bomb, and Fire Bullet—including a modified version of Fireball.
Truthfully, I could have learned more, possibly even the entire beginner's spellbook. But I held back. I wasn't even a rank one sorcerer yet, and learning these basic, practically useless spells was just a way to console myself.
At least, with Laska Ring, these spells had the strength of a level one sorcerer's magic.
Now, I have confirmed a few peculiar details about this world.
The moon.
The moon in this world had three distinct phases; not in the sense of crescents and full moons, but in its very color.
Every three years, its hue shifted. Initially, it was silver. Three years later, it turned blue. After six years, it became red.
One moon, three colors.
I first noticed the red moon when I turned three and found it fascinating. After reading about it and asking Verdi, I learned about its three phases.
No, these weren't separate moons; it was the same celestial body transforming.
Observing the sun revealed another anomaly.
It seemed closer and smaller than Earth's sun—yet summer temperatures here were still normal, peaking at an estimated 30 degrees Celsius.
In my studies, I also came to understand the fundamental differences between enhancers and sorcerers.
First, mana reservees.
Sorcerers had far larger mana reserves than enhancers, though it was more accurate to say that enhancers' reserves were significantly reduced.
Sorcerers used mana from their core to unleash powerful spells with precision and efficiency. On the other hand, enhancers utilized roughly 50–60% of their available mana to continuously augment their physical bodies. This enhancement transformed their cells and veins, making their bodies tougher than metal and brimming with raw power.
Although enhancers could use magic, their spellcasting was limited to straightforward, non-weapon-based attacks. They were fearsome in their own right, trading the versatility of sorcery for sheer brute strength.
One more thing I learned: a sorcerer's power isn't always determined by their rank.
Let's say there are two sorcerers: A and B.
Sorcerer A is at early rank three, while Sorcerer B is at peak rank three.
They fought. Who do you think won? Sorcerer B, right? After all, they were at the peak of the rank.
But no. Sorcerer A emerged victorious.
Why?
Simple: sorcerer A had better mana control, which made their attacks more precise. In addition, they didn't waste any extra mana on the latent power of their spells. This superior control over mana was enough for them to defeat someone at a higher rank.
Now, it's a different story for enhancers.
Let's say there are two enhancers: A and B. Both are at rank three, one at early rank three and the other at peak rank three.
Both use swords.
They fought, and once again, A won!
Why?
Even though B was two stages higher, with a tougher, stronger body and better elemental affinity, they lost because A had far superior swordsmanship.
Such nuances can play a significant role in battles.
Take Mizuki, the prodigy with frightening talent. According to Haist, she could defeat a rank three enhancer swordsman in the early stage! That's without accounting for the mana and elemental powers of the enhancer—just pure skill.
Alright, let's move on from this.
I decided to try something new today. I would use
What would tracing its origin show me? A vision of my ancestor?
As the name suggests, "Trace Origin" allows me to trace the history of an object it's used on. For example, if I used it on a phone, I'd learn about the manufacturer and perhaps even see the factory in a video-like memory.
Previously, I tried it on a book in the mansion and saw how the words were written, letter by letter, by an old man.
'I hope this works…' I internally wished it would help me unlock the grimoire. I was getting tired of waiting.
I raised my hand, summoning the golden book.
It was the same as ever: golden, with the emblem of a radiant sun in the center, emanating faint heat. Nothing had changed about it.
aking a deep breath, I placed my palm on the book and whispered:
"!!!"
Dizziness overcame me as the scene around me shifted. The vast blue skies and the grand manor vanished. In their place, I found myself staring at the back of a man clad in a priestly white robe with a pale yellow stole trailing behind him.
At that moment, the man was bowing toward something—or someone—I couldn't discern clearly.
We were inside a massive hall with towering white pillars and intricate decorations adorning the walls.
If I had to describe the place, I'd say it resembled the interior of a cathedral.
Hmm, this wasn't what I had expected.
Verdi had mentioned that authorities were created by ancient sorcerers or something similar. Was this scene related to that? It didn't seem like it.
The scene before me felt more like a ritual.
"#### ### ### !!"
Hmm? This language… I didn't recognize it.
I'd heard of another language called 'Arcana' used in the western continent, but I hadn't started learning it yet. The book I'd ordered to study it hadn't even arrived!
Oh, there was also that ancient magical language called 'Old Merlin.'
I couldn't understand a single word of what was being said. However, after the man spoke, he clasped his hands tightly against his chest and exclaimed, "### #### !"