Chapter 4

Roya Greyrat opened his attribute panel, and the transparent interface displayed the following information clearly:

[Character: Roya Greyrat]

Age: 2

Strength: G

Agility: G

Stamina: G

Intelligence: D

Talents: Immaculate Body (First Stage), Fool (First Stage), Greed

Skills: Intermediate Magic Knowledge, Swordsmanship (Not Yet Started)

Evaluation: You possess exceptional potential for growth, but at present, you're practically useless except for your magical aptitude.

Roya then accessed the world capture interface, and a line of small text appeared before him:

[Power of Space and Time: 50/100 (Unable to Capture a World)]

The most vital feature of his system was the world capture function. According to its description, the system would detach a small fragment of his soul and send it as a stowaway into another world.

By completing specific tasks or significantly altering that world's timeline, the system would siphon the world's primal energy and channel it back to him.

If successful, this would unlock access to the next world in short order.

In some systems, subordinates might receive points or redemption privileges as rewards. For Roya, however, the process was different—he could retrieve his soul fragment and select a few abilities from the world he'd infiltrated, tailored to his needs.

He wasn't entirely sure how it worked in practice, though, since he hadn't yet embarked on his first world capture.

The power of space and time grew naturally over time, but its progress was agonizingly slow. In two years, it had barely increased by less than a hundred units.

In this world, magic was divided into categories like healing, offensive, and summoning magic.

Its mastery levels ranged from Elementary to Intermediate, Advanced, Saint, King, Emperor, and finally God-tier. Magic could be activated through two methods: incantations or magic circles.

At higher levels of offensive magic, practitioners could earn prestigious titles like "Saint-Level Magician" or "Emperor-Level Magician."

Swordsmanship, meanwhile, was dominated by three major schools: the Sword God School, the Water God School, and the Northern God School.

The founders of these schools were universally referred to as "Gods" by adding the title after their school's name. Like magic, swordsmanship was divided into seven ranks: Primary, Intermediate, Advanced, Saint, King, Emperor, and God.

Despite Roya's remarkable talent for magic, his studies had been limited by the books available to him, leaving him at the intermediate level.

Magic itself was a fascinating and versatile force, shaped by the caster's will. It drew upon the magical energy within the body, transforming it into various forms—wind, fire, water, earth, or even divine healing power—through precise incantations.

In essence, magic was the foundation of all mystical phenomena, much like an engine powering a vehicle.

Roya's aptitude was extraordinary—calling him a "prodigy" hardly did it justice. He had an eidetic memory and could master anything after a single lesson.

At two months old, he'd learned to walk; by four months, he was speaking simple words; and at six months, he was reading magic tomes alone, much to the astonishment of the maid Lilia and the delight of his parents, Paul and Zenith.

In short, Roya was a child with an almost inhuman capacity for learning. Yet, for reasons unknown, his youthful face remained perpetually expressionless. It wasn't that his inner world lacked richness—on the contrary, his thoughts were vivid and theatrical.

But his outward demeanor stayed oddly detached. Even when he felt joy and wanted to smile, his lips would twist into what looked like a cold smirk.

Early on, this confused Paul and Zenith, who worried they'd upset him. Over time, they realized it was simply his unique way of expressing happiness—not a sneer at all.

With his blond hair, golden eyes, and that impassive expression, Roya's boyish face carried an almost dangerous charm.

Though he didn't bother hiding his precocious nature—handling many tasks independently from a young age—Paul and Zenith never suspected anything unusual.

Instead, they beamed with pride over their son's gifts.

Roya didn't give his somewhat dim-witted parents cause for concern. For now, his focus was on honing his magic.

By casting spells and depleting his magical reserves, he could gradually expand his body's capacity. Surprisingly, even at his young age, Roya's magical reserves were immense.

When he first began learning, despite being a novice, he had to cast multiple intermediate spells just to exhaust himself. As his capacity grew, however, intermediate magic no longer sufficed.

This led him to experiment. He was now developing a new technique he called the "Magic Sword."

Every individual's magical energy had unique traits, and the effort required to convert it into spells varied accordingly.

In other words, there was a qualitative difference between magical reserves. Roya discovered that his own magic was not only of exceptional quality but also peculiar in nature.

Typically, magical energy couldn't manifest on its own—it served solely as fuel for spells. Yet Roya's was different.

His magic could materialize directly as raw energy, brimming with destructive force and remarkable versatility.

When unleashed in its pure form, this energy's lethality surged, though it consumed far more power in the process.

The Magic Sword was a technique he'd crafted to harness these properties. With a flick of his wrist, a pitch-black dagger appeared in his small, pale hand.

Forged entirely from his dark magical energy, the blade bore intricate shadowy patterns and radiated immense destructive potential.

By this world's standards, a fully realized Magic Sword could rival King-tier magic in power.

Advanced magic demanded time, strict conditions, and lengthy preparation—incantations could stretch on for minutes.

While low-level spells could be cast instantly, as some mages demonstrated, high-tier magic required patience and a suitable environment.

The Magic Sword, however, was an exception. It was instantaneous. As long as Roya's magical reserves held, it could theoretically level a town in the blink of an eye, reducing everything to nothingness with overwhelming force.

After toying with the Magic Sword for about an hour, Roya finally drained his reserves. His formidable mental stamina kept him from collapsing, though he let out a lazy yawn, feeling a touch of lethargy. With a sigh, he headed for the door.

In the living room, Lilia—the maid with a striking figure—was busy with housework. Paul had been spending most of his time with his wife, Zenith, lately. Zenith hadn't been feeling well, a clear sign she was expecting another child soon.

For Lilia, managing the sprawling household alone was no small task.