"Now, do you have any experience controlling your mana?" Charles asked, brushing past his earlier mistake without a second thought.
Michael hesitated, then shook his head. "Outside of using basic chore magic, I don't know much else…" he admitted, the words slipping out with a tinge of vulnerability.
In front of him stood a genius from one of the most prestigious mage academies. Though Michael knew he shouldn't compare himself, the feeling of inadequacy crept in like a shadow he couldn't shake.
"You can't even control your mana!?"
A shrill voice rang out from behind, making both boys turn toward the source.
Michael's face flushed with embarrassment as he recognized Melody's harsh tone. The young girl had one hand covering her mouth, her wide blue eyes brimming with disbelief—as though what she'd heard was completely outrageous.
"How can an Ember mage not know how to control their mana?" she said, her voice rising. "Can you even perform chore magic?"
"I can…" Michael mumbled, lowering his gaze to the ground.
"Then whoever taught you must've just recited the incantations word for word? How absurd," she scoffed, her expression twisted with disdain.
Michael flinched. His fists clenched at his sides as frustration bubbled inside him. But he couldn't lash out. Not when her parents had shown him such kindness. He swallowed the anger, hard and bitter like gravel in his throat.
"Now, now, Melody," Charles said, his tone calm but firm. "Not everyone is as fortunate as the Winterbornes. You're lucky to have had a personal tutor—like me."
But Melody only folded her arms, unconvinced. "Controlling your mana is the first step to becoming a mage—you said that yourself, Charles. What kind of imbecile teaches someone the incantations without teaching them mana control?"
Her words sliced through the air like blades. Michael stood frozen, her insults pelting him like hail.
And still, she kept going.
"Father says this is exactly why the standard of mages is declining. If it weren't for these two-bit teachers, Wintervalley Town wouldn't be falling apart."
"Take. It. Back…" Michael growled, his thin frame trembling with barely restrained fury.
"Huh? Why are you getting so worked up?" Melody replied, her high-pitched voice grating like metal on stone. Her brow furrowed in irritation. "I'm simply stating facts. Any teacher who doesn't teach the fundamentals is a useless hack."
Michael's nails bit into his palms. Tiny droplets of blood slipped from his clenched fists, dotting the floor like crimson petals.
It wasn't Mom who was useless… It was me! he screamed inwardly.
Back then, with only a single white ring, he could barely cast even the simplest chore magic. It was only through his mother's tireless teaching—her endless patience and unconditional love—that he'd managed to grasp even the basic incantations.
She had sacrificed everything for him. She had given her life to buy him the time to escape into the mana-scarred wilderness.
And now this doll-faced girl stood here, dragging her memory through the dirt, her words as cruel and cutting as lashes from a whip.
"TAKE IT BACK!"
Michael's voice erupted like a dam breaking. His body trembled, ablaze with righteous fury, every muscle taut with the urge to strike.
It took everything he had not to launch himself at her.
"You… how dare you speak to me like that!"
Melody's voice pitched higher as she raised her hand. Two orange rings glowed on her wrist, pulsing with dangerous energy.
"That's enough."
Charles stepped between them at last, his voice sharp. He held his arms out, trying to mediate before things spiraled further.
W-What's happening to me? Michael felt uneasy as his body began to tingle.
"A-ARGH!"
Michael screamed, clutching his head as a sudden spike of pain tore through his mind. It felt as if invisible daggers stabbed straight into his skull. Inside him, the barrier around his inner palace shuddered violently—something was hammering against it from within.
With every tremor, a sharper jolt of pain followed.
Then, with a final, resounding crack, the barrier shattered.
Michael's eyes rolled back, revealing only the whites. His body went limp, but instead of collapsing, he hovered upright—suspended by an unseen force.
Within him, his soul—pure white and ethereal—emerged from the fractured palace and slipped into his meridians like a stream of light. As it made contact with the slowly circulating orange mana, the flow pulsed and shifted.
The affected particles began to gather around his soul, their vibrant orange slowly deepening in color.
From orange to red.
Then red to blue.
And finally, blue to a budding green.
His soul swept through the meridians like a storm, drawing more mana in its wake. The hue grew darker with each pass until it began to settle into a deep, luminous green.
"W-What is happening?"
Melody's voice cracked, her eyes wide with panic.
Charles' expression hardened. He seized Melody's wrist and pulled her back. "Stay behind me. I'm sensing the aura of a Verdant mage…"
"Wh-What!? But he only has orange rings!" she squeaked.
Charles didn't answer.
He raised his left hand and began an incantation.
"Sufflaria Nihil. Spirare Nolo. Corpus Dormiat—Asphyxiate!"
The two green rings on his wrist flared to life, spinning in opposite directions like interlocking gears. A white magic circle materialized in the air before him, etched with glowing runes that shimmered and pulsed.
A tight sphere of air enveloped Michael's body. The space within thickened and grew heavy, as if the atmosphere itself were solidifying. All oxygen inside was forcibly stripped away—replaced by carbon dioxide.
"He'll lose consciousness in a few moments," Charles said, keeping his hand outstretched to maintain the spell. "Don't move until I say so."
But then his expression twisted.
"N-No… this can't be!"
A screeching sound rang through the air as the containment field around Michael's body began to crack.
Charles's eyes widened.
The airlock shattered like brittle glass. In the same instant, his spell unraveled—and then, to his horror, the mana he'd used was absorbed into Michael's body.
Then it happened.
The aura around Michael detonated.
A surge of Verdant energy burst forth, its intensity eclipsing even Charles's own magic power. The air in the room turned dense. Heavy. Unstable.
"Run and get your father!" Charles barked, panic seizing his voice. "Now!"
Melody didn't hesitate. She turned and sprinted from the room without another word.