Chapter 4: A Prodigy? No, Just a Professional Cheat

Sword training was over. My big brother, Sarin, strutted away, appearing pleased of himself for "beating" his smaller brother. The instructor gave me an approving nod before walking off. 

 I waited. 

 And waited. 

 Once the courtyard was completely clear, I sighed in relief. 

 "Man, keeping up appearances is exhausting." 

 I wasn't even breathing hard. After all, I had fought Sarin hundreds of times in frozen time. I knew his every action, his every habit. The only reason I "lost" was because I let him win. 

 Still, the look on his face after I landed those first two hits? Priceless. 

 Suppressing a grin, I strolled back into the estate. The halls were peaceful, the stone walls hung with antique banners and family photos. House Roy was originally a proud military family, but that status had gone over the years. 

 Which means, technically, I had the right atmosphere to grow without attracting too much notice. 

 I strolled into the library. 

 Tall wooden shelves stretched high, filled with volumes of different age and condition. Some were thick, leather-bound tomes on war strategy. Others were beautiful scrolls holding regal etiquette or trade documents. 

 But I wasn't interested in those. 

 I walked straight to the farthest, dustiest corner of the library—the one no self-respecting aristocratic child would bother with. 

 There it was. 

 "The Beginner's Guide to Mana Control." 

 A plain, uninspiring novel that none of my brothers cared about. After all, House Roy wasn't known for its mages. Our bloodline specializes in swordplay and strategies. Magic? That was for the aristocratic elites. 

 Which meant I was free to learn it in peace. 

 I grabbed the book, sat down, and cracked it open. 

 Then— 

 Time, stop. 

 The world froze. 

 The flickering lantern flame stilled. The gentle rustle of the trees outside went still. The dust motes lingered motionless in the air. 

 And I began reading. 

 I absorbed page after page, studying the foundations of mana circulation, affinity types, and spell constructions. 

 Then, once I finished the book— 

 I placed it back, grabbed another, and resumed the process. 

 By the time I resumed time, only a second had gone in actuality. 

 "Ahhh," I moaned, stretching. "Self-study is amazing." 

 Honestly, I almost felt guilty. Other students might spend years laboring through this material, making mistakes, slowly developing their art. Meanwhile, I could merely read, practice, and repeat eternally in frozen time. 

 It was like playing a game on New Game+ with all cheats activated. 

 I closed my eyes, focusing on my mana for the first time. 

 I could feel it now—a subtle, warm energy pouring inside me. The book presented mana as a river, something that needed to be controlled and managed. 

 I tried moving it. 

 Nothing happened. 

 I frowned. 

 I concentrated harder. 

 Still nothing. 

 "…Oh, come on." 

 After weeks of practicing with the sword in frozen time, I was able to fight like an experienced novice. But magic? It didn't budge. 

 I groaned. "I guess this one isn't gonna be instant." 

 Fine. If I couldn't control mana straight immediately, I'd just do what I always did. 

 I'd brute-force it in frozen time. 

 I paused time again and began exploring. I focused, breathed in, and willed my mana to move. At first, it was like trying to flex a muscle that didn't exist. 

 But I didn't stop. 

 Hours. 

 Days. 

 Weeks. 

 I pushed and tugged at my mana, modifying strategies, comparing hypotheses, grinding experience like a crazy. 

 And finally— 

 A spark. 

 A little spark of electricity flickered in my palm, so faint it was scarcely discernible. 

 I grinned. 

 "Oh, it's over for everyone now."