The Wizard

Today was Charles' sixth birthday.

Though he had to spend it inside the aircraft, with no one around to congratulate him, he was still overjoyed.

Compared to his past life, his current days felt nothing short of a dream.

Born into a poor family with many siblings, there had been times when even putting food on the table was a struggle.

One meal a day was the norm!

This had stunted his growth, leaving him scrawny and much shorter than other children his age—almost like a skinny little monkey.

But being discovered to have Wizard talent had instantly transformed his family's circumstances.

Though it was only third-tier talent—considered neither good nor bad, just average—for ordinary people, it was still something they could only dream of.

Wizards, as the absolute rulers of this world, held the highest and noblest status.

Every mortal nation was merely their breeding ground, and so-called royal families were nothing more than tools to manage the common folk.

Through relentless propaganda and brainwashing, the greatest honor for any mortal was to bear offspring with the potential to become Wizards.

Now, even though Charles was merely a Wizard Apprentice in training, the benefits of this status had immediately elevated his struggling parents and siblings to a life of privilege.

The City Lord of their hometown had even gifted them several properties and over a hundred gold coins—wealth enough to last them two lifetimes, ensuring they would never want for anything again!

Carefully smoothing out his clothes once more, Charles still felt uneasy wearing such luxurious garments.

Fabric this fine was something he had only ever seen on nobles before—never daring to even glance at it for too long, let alone touch it.

Since becoming an Apprentice in training, the City Lord had ordered tailors to work day and night to craft several sets of clothing for each of them.

The memory of the plump, kindly City Lord personally handing him the clothes with a warm smile still moved Charles deeply.

'I must repay this kindness someday,' he thought.

Now, dressed in these expensive clothes, though they felt comfortable, a faint discomfort lingered in his heart.

Wearing something so fine was beyond anything he had ever imagined—not even in his wildest dreams.

He felt like a toad draped in swan feathers, certain that others saw him as nothing but a clown. Too afraid to speak to anyone, he had stayed obediently in his room since boarding the aircraft, dreading the mockery he might see in their eyes.

But after days of solitude, the excited gasps outside his door finally drew him out.

Following the others, he arrived at the top of the massive aircraft.

Through the transparent eyes of the great whale-like vessel, he saw a dense cluster of structures in the distance.

Surrounded by thick mist within a vast forest, even from the sky, only a vague outline was visible.

Yet that simple silhouette alone told Charles this place was far grander than he could have ever imagined.

The city I used to live in was nothing compared to this, like a mere child standing before it.

Just then, a voice that sounded young yet carried a steady tone reached his ears: "It's truly massive. Even the royal capital seems small in comparison."

Charles turned to see a boy who appeared to be about his age, though his refined appearance and attire exuded nobility. The boy was smiling at him.

Meeting Charles's gaze, the other extended his hand in a friendly manner and said, "Hello, I'm Saya Glens, the 17th Prince of the Dort Kingdom. This is the first time I've seen you up here."

Faced with the outstretched hand, Charles seemed flustered. He had never imagined he would interact with a prince, let alone that someone of such high status would initiate a handshake with him.

After a moment of awkward fumbling, Charles hesitantly reached out and shook his hand. "N-nice to meet you. My name is Charles."

Unlike Saya, who bore a surname, Charles was a commoner with only a given name.

Without mocking his timid reaction, Saya Glens smiled and said, "Charles, is it? A fine name. I'll remember it."

Taking a step forward, he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Charles, gazing at the view below.

In a calm tone, Saya shared his thoughts: "You really don't need to be so nervous. You should have more confidence in yourself. No matter what your past was like, as someone with wizarding aptitude, you no longer need to let your old life hold you back. You have a much broader future ahead now—those things are meaningless."

"Trust me, Charles. You can afford to live with more confidence."

Hearing these gentle words, Charles felt an inexplicable emotion stir within him.

Staring at his own frail reflection in Saya's azure eyes, Charles couldn't quite put his feelings into words.

At that moment, he clearly realized that there truly was an inherent gap between people. Saya possessed a charisma that made him feel utterly convinced.

'Maybe... I really do need to change...'

It was the first time in his life he had ever thought this way.

Seeing how his words had struck a chord with Charles, Saya Glens kept his expression neutral, though inwardly, he was pleased.

Gifted with intelligence and raised under elite education, he knew well the importance of forming alliances in unfamiliar places. Someone like Charles—a timid commoner with little experience or cunning—was the perfect candidate to win over.

That was why Saya, a prince, had deigned to approach him.

Well, no—given that Charles was a Wizard Apprentice, it wasn't so much "deigning" as it was perfectly appropriate.

Satisfied, Saya Glens mentally gave himself full marks.

Not that he was being scheming.

Compared to his elders, the still-youthful Saya harbored little malice.

The real issue was simply that their vastly different upbringings shaped how they viewed the world.

Compared to the somewhat resigned Charles, Saya preferred to take control of the situation directly.

A middle-aged man stepped forward.

Waving his hand, he silenced the noisy chatter of the students.

Though Charles didn't know the man's name, he recognized him as the leader of the admissions team.

The man addressed the gathered newcomers with a cold tone, "The academy will arrive shortly. The aircraft is preparing to descend. Get ready."

"Yes!"

Standing among the crowd, Charles shrank his head slightly at the sight of the man's third eye on his forehead and echoed the response along with the others.

Later, in his room.

Recalling the appearance of the man and the other instructors, Charles couldn't help but wonder curiously, 'In various legends, these Wizards all possess traits that set them apart from ordinary people. I wonder if I'll end up the same way…'

"Hmm…"

As the mist above the academy parted, revealing an opening, Charles, Saya, and the other newcomers gasped in awe.

None of them had ever witnessed such a sight before.

Even Saya couldn't help but murmur, "So humans can manipulate the weather too…"

After passing through the opening, the aircraft descended slowly beside a vast field of Red Flowers.

Just before lowering the boarding ramp, the lead instructor turned to the students with a stern expression and warned, "If you value your lives, don't touch those Red Flowers."

Though puzzled, the students nodded solemnly at his grave tone.

Stepping down the ramp, Charles gazed at the endless sea of red blossoms swaying in the breeze, their rustling resembling ocean waves. Overwhelmed by the sight, he whispered in awe, "So beautiful…"

Faintly, Charles thought he saw a red mist seeping from the flowers.

Strangely, the mist didn't disperse in the wind but clung tightly to the petals like a delicate scarlet veil, enhancing their allure.

And whether it was his imagination or not, the fragrance drifting from the flowers filled him with an inexplicable comfort, tempting him to linger and breathe it in a little longer.

Unbeknownst to him, the other newcomers shared the same thought, their faces all reflecting the same mesmerized expression…

Observing this eerie scene, the lead instructor frowned slightly, though he wasn't surprised.

This happened every year.

Unlike the newcomers, his heightened senses allowed him to perceive a force restraining the flowers, suppressing most of their power.

Otherwise, these ordinary-level students would have succumbed to madness instantly under their influence.

Just as he was about to usher the newcomers away, he spotted a figure casually perched on a tree branch nearby.

Recognizing the figure by their Scarlet hair, he immediately bowed in greeting.

His teacher had once hinted to him that this guardian was completely different from the others in the academy. He had been personally summoned by the academy head through a certain Summoning Ritual from a distant world. Though his human form appeared peaceful and his communication seemed rational, he was said to be an extremely dangerous species at his core. Unless absolutely necessary, it was best not to interact with him—so he chose to follow his instincts.

After they left, Olthagia turned to the empty space beside him and asked, "Why do you Wizards all love conducting Bloodline experiments? You seem more like monsters than I, a Demon."

Unprovoked by Olthagia's somewhat blunt question, Hawthorne's calm voice emerged from the void, replying, "To us, narrow concepts like race and Bloodline hold no meaning. The only thing that matters is our identity as Wizards."

Olthagia chuckled and mused, "So, the sense of belonging to the Wizard identity outweighs everything else? What a strange spellcasting profession—mad, yet undeniably powerful..."