Dear mother… what the heck are you even talking about?
I thought magic was simple. You have mana, you use a spell, something flashy happens, and boom—magic. Simple and effective, right?
But no, apparently not. Apparently, there's a whole system to magic.
Magic circles? Tiers? Ranks? Where did that come from? And why did you decide to casually explain this as I was enjoying my breakfast?
I just wanted to eat my buttered flatbread in peace.
While I was chewing on roasted meat and greens, mother dropped the info bomb like she was telling me the weather forecast. Apparently, there's something called the "Magician Tier System" and to cast certain spells, you need a matching-tiered magic circle engraved into your soul.
…
Huh?
Can I just say—what?!
In my head, mages just trained mana and learned spells through trial and error. Maybe with a bit of guidance from a wise old wizard in a robe. I didn't expect there to be some weird soul-binding glyph requirement in the mix.
This just complicates everything.
Naturia, who was now three years older, floated beside me, munching on a seed like she always did in the morning. She wasn't a little seedling anymore. She had matured into a tiny wooden fairy with leafy hair and delicate branch-like limbs. Adorable and now a proper magical partner.
She's grown with me all this time. Spirits bound at a young age evolve with their contractor, after all. As I've grown physically, so has she spiritually. She's stronger now, and in turn, I can cast stronger Nature magic with less strain.
Oh, and I've been trying to convince Ignatius to become my familiar for three years now.
He's still as stubborn as the first time.
I've bitten his tail, yanked his wings, headbutted his snout, gouged his eyes with my hands, and kicked his balls so many times, I'm worried he won't be able to reproduce. Not that he'd need to. He's dead.
Still, nothing works.
He's the definition of prideful. But I'll wear him down eventually. I refuse to give up on having a fire dragon as my Fire-type familiar. He's mine. He just doesn't know it yet.
Anyway, back to my current existential crisis—magic circles.
Apparently, spellcasting is not just a matter of channeling mana and imagining an effect. No, it's structured. Mother explained that your magic circle tier determines what spells you can safely cast. Anything beyond your current tier is possible, but the mana cost skyrockets to insane levels.
Normally, this would be a problem.
But I have… the System.
It's glitched. It's broken. It's probably an abomination created by divine oversight.
But it works. And it gives me infinite mana.
The System doesn't even need me to understand magic circles. I just use Ember repeatedly, fuse them into shapes, and voila—a higher-level Fire spell is born. No chanting. No preparation. Just brute force mana and imagination.
Same with my Agriculture skill, which doesn't technically count as Nature magic but works because of the System's mana overflow.
Honestly, if the System wasn't glitched, I wouldn't have infinite resources. It's like the god who reincarnated me gave me a patchy cheat engine.
Powerful, yes. Refined? Absolutely not.
Meanwhile, Aquarina—the actual genius—has grown naturally powerful. No cheats. No broken system.
Just talent.
She can already use Water, Earth, and even Shadow magic, and she's extremely proficient in all of them. Still, Water is her strongest affinity. A year ago, she even formed a contract with a Water Spirit named Undine while playing in a river. Totally random encounter, and now her water spells are ridiculous.
I miss her a lot. We've spent nearly every day together for the last three years. She's like a sister to me… or maybe more. A partner. A best friend. We share everything—our meals, our training, even our dreams. We laugh together, fight together, and sometimes cry together too.
She's grown less shy, more confident. I love watching her grow stronger, to see her find herself.
Though… we did get stuck with a tagalong for a while.
His name's Zack. He's five. He's loud, annoying, and constantly tries to impress Aquarina by pulling pranks or acting tough.
Spoiler: it doesn't work.
She hates him. She glares at him with those signature cold eyes of hers. He gets flustered and tries harder, which only makes things worse. I've had to knock some sense into him more than once. Gently, of course. Mostly.
That said… we've grown used to him. He's like an annoying cousin you can't get rid of, but kind of tolerate.
But right now, none of that matters. I'm trying to process my mother's magical lecture.
"Mom, I don't get it…" I said with a half-eaten piece of bread in my hand.
My mother smiled gently, placing a warm hand on my head. "Ah. I suppose we should've explained earlier… Seeing how you and Aquarina can cast spells beyond your tier, we assumed you'd figured it out naturally."
"Figured what out? What's this tier thing again?" I groaned.
Father chuckled as he sat across from us, sipping tea. "Ah yes. Well, I'm an 8th Tier Magician."
"Is that high?" I asked, squinting.
"For most people? Extremely," he replied with a laugh. "But your mother here…"
"I'm a 10th Tier Magician," Mother said proudly. "That's the highest tier achievable. Only those born with S-Grade Talent reach it."
I blinked.
"Wait… there are grades too?"
"Of course," she said, smiling. "Everyone is born with a magic potential grade. It's a scale from F to S, with S being the highest. It affects everything—your affinity, mana capacity, how fast you learn, and the highest tier you can eventually reach."
"Geez. So you're basically… the ultimate magician?"
"Not quite," she replied modestly. "Tier 10 has ten internal ranks. I've only reached the first."
"How about Dad?"
"I'm at the fifth rank of Tier 8," Father said, puffing his chest slightly.
"Wow…"
All of this felt like I was getting hit with too much information too fast.
"So what about me?" I asked.
They both exchanged glances.
"We can't measure your grade," Mother said softly. "The usual evaluation crystals don't react properly to you. Even the ones from the Hero Academy malfunctioned."
"It's the System," I muttered.
"That would make sense," Father nodded.
So basically, I'm unrankable.
That… sounds cool, but also sounds terrifying.
"Don't worry, Leon," Mother said, placing a reassuring hand on mine. "With how quickly you've grown, I believe you'll surpass even Tier 10 one day."
"…You can do that?"
"That's a mystery," she replied, her eyes glinting. "Perhaps you'll be the one to find out."
Well, I suppose that is kind of cool.
I guess it's time to take this whole "magic circles" thing seriously.
And maybe—just maybe—figure out how to actually use my System properly.
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