Tradition fades away under the name of convenience.
Frankly, it's only natural.
With the progress of technology, the old and inconvenient are destined to be left behind.
Just as the brick-like cell phone became the smartphone, and the steam locomotive evolved into the KTX.
Things that were once great soon grow old and vanish.
It's the natural order of the world.
"Twenty-first century. Magic has undergone a revolutionary evolution. Naturally, no student here would be unaware of that, right?"
The same goes for magic.
"Come on, Instructor. Who in this academy wouldn't know that by now?"
The first Great Magus who defined the existence of mana and created the discipline known as magic—
His magic might have been revolutionary and groundbreaking at the time.
But not anymore.
"The development of artificial intelligence that supports magic was the turning point of magical science."
[Collection — Heating — Conversion — Condensation — Transmission — Expansion — Amplification — Manifestation]
This was the standard sequence for casting magic just a hundred years ago.
Complicated, isn't it? Even the sound of it is exhausting.
"Yes, that's right. In the twenty-first century, as AI technology advanced, magic entered a new era."
Of course, that was a hundred years ago.
"The rise of AI led to a drastic shortening of spell formulas, and as the incantations became more precise, magic grew even stronger—and easier to use."
Today's magic consists of only two steps: Collection — Manifestation.
The caster simply gathers mana.
Then, the AI automatically handles all the intermediate formulas and completes the spell.
All that's left is for the caster to release it at will.
That's modern magic.
Convenient, isn't it?
"Ah, I've gone on too long. Before I introduce myself, let me start by congratulating you. Congratulations! You are the elite among the elite—the top one percent of the world's population."
Of course, that doesn't mean anyone can use magic just because the system became simpler.
Magic remains the privilege of the chosen few—those with talent.
They must be attuned to mana.
Able to absorb mana.
And capable of releasing it externally.
Among other requirements.
Only one percent of the world's population satisfies all these conditions to become a Mage.
"Yep, life's best when it's easy."
"Born with a mana spoon in my mouth, lucky me."
"Hahaha!"
Laughter filled the classroom.
Mana spoon.
A term derived from gold spoon, referring to those born with the innate ability to sense mana.
"If you graduate from this academy, your life will be smooth sailing—a guaranteed success story."
Naturally, Mages are elite personnel in this world.
They're invaluable not only in combat but also as multi-talented assets in daily life.
That's what a modern Mage is.
And the school we've entered is one of the best institutions that nurture such Mages—
A top-tier academy, ranked among the top ten in the world.
As the instructor said, simply graduating from this place is equivalent to winning at life.
And I, too, was one of that one percent elite.
Yes—
I was.
"Instructor! Are you sure you should be saying that so confidently?"
"Did you forget that Shin Hayul is in this class?"
Laughter broke out again.
But unlike before, this laughter was filled with mockery.
And suddenly, all eyes turned toward me.
"Man, Shin Hayul's really pitiful."
"How does someone with the greatest magical talent in history fall into ruin so fast?"
Eyes glimmering with that smug, condescending sense of superiority—
Pitying, sympathetic stares.
And the delighted gaze of those rejoicing at my fall.
Every one of those raw emotions pierced straight through me.
"Who would've guessed? The rising star of the prestigious Shin family—turns out Shin Hayul's an AI-incompatible."
"A Mage who can't use AI, huh? Heh."
As I said before, the magic of this era has reached revolutionary heights.
But not everyone can benefit from such innovation.
Just as only one percent of humanity possesses mana, there are rare exceptions who can't synchronize with AI—the heart of modern magic.
"Fate's cruel, huh? How does someone like Shin Hayul end up in that 0.00002%?"
0.00002%.
I belong to that microscopic percentage of incompatibles.
"Wow, the more I think about it, the sadder it gets."
A once-in-a-generation genius rejected by modern technology.
The only defective product of the Shin family of Magi.
That's how the world viewed me, Shin Hayul.
"..."
But who could have known—
That being "incompatible" would turn out to be a blessing in disguise.
Even I, who was drowning in rage at the time, had no idea.
A year later—
Before I came across that book.
I had no way of knowing.
Not even in my dreams.
The Shin Family of Magi—
A prestigious Korean bloodline famed for producing generations of outstanding Mages.
I was the youngest of three sons and two daughters.
At four, I began to toy with mana and was hailed as a prodigy.
At seven, I cast my first spell.
At ten, I achieved double casting.
At fifteen, triple casting.
My fame only grew from there.
"At seventeen, I'll finally synchronize with an AI. That'll be the endgame."
"That's my boy. At last, our family will have a Mage powerful enough to rule the world."
Naturally, my family's expectations rose ever higher.
Despite being the youngest, whispers spread that I would soon become the next head of the family.
"I'd love to synchronize with AI right this instant."
"Dear, have patience. You know what happens if you synchronize before your personality fully matures—seventeen is the minimum for a reason."
"I know, I know. Just wishful thinking."
For seventeen years, my life had revolved entirely around magic.
At times, the weight of expectations felt heavy—but I didn't mind.
After all, I loved learning magic.
Doing what I loved while earning everyone's admiration—what could be better?
I thought I'd keep walking this path forever and become the world's greatest Mage.
But—
That dream shattered on the very day of my high school entrance ceremony.
"GAAAH! M-my head! AAAAAH!"
"Hayul!"
Right after the ceremony—on the day of the AI synchronization ritual—
I collapsed with an unbearable migraine.
"Student Shin Hayul is an AI-incompatible case. A rare condition, occurring in only 0.00002% of people worldwide. We never imagined… Shin Hayul of all people…"
That's when I learned the truth:
I was a person physically incapable of obtaining an AI.
The world collapsed around me.
What was my life until now?
Were my seventeen years meaningless?
Dark thoughts devoured my mind.
"...Pathetic."
It didn't take long for my father's expectations to turn into disgust.
For him, the family's prestige meant everything.
And as ridicule rained down on the Shin family following my downfall, he could no longer bear the sight of me.
"I knew it. Figures. The youngest, aiming for the family head—ridiculous."
My siblings, who had long envied me, eagerly piled on the scorn.
"Hey, look. That's Shin Hayul."
"The defective genius?"
"Keep your voice down!"
My dream of attending the magic academy turned out to be nothing but despair.
Everyone mocked me behind my back—pitied me, looked down on me.
And so, a year passed.
"Good work surviving the year."
"Congrats on advancing."
"Wow, even Shin Hayul managed to pass, huh?"
A year later, nothing had changed. I was still the outcast.
"Heh. Next up is Shin Hayul."
"Let's see what score he gets."
"Bet on it? I'm putting my money on below average."
Of course.
They must be delighted.
Watching the once-praised genius of over a decade crash and burn—it must taste sweeter than honey.
After all, we're the same age, and our families always compared us.
So my downfall?
To them, it's perfect entertainment.
I understand.
I understand everything.
"Damn, that opening was awful. Anyone can see he's below the standard."
"We should bet on how far below the standard he'll be."
…I get it. I really do.
But that doesn't make it any less miserable.
"Next. Shin Hayul."
Just as I was barely holding back my anger, the instructor called my name.
"Yes."
No. Focus.
This is practical training.
Concentrate!
I forced out all the negative emotions clouding my mind.
"You've seen the others already, so I don't need to explain the details, right?"
"Yes, sir."
The instructor checked my information on his tablet.
"Second-year student, Shin Hayul. Commencing practical evaluation for temporary magic rank assessment."
With those words, a countdown appeared at the center of the testing arena.
[10]
[9]
…
[Start!]
As the start signal flashed, I guided my mana according to the eight-step magic sequence.
[Evaluation Report]
[Obelisk Academy — South Korea's Mage Training Institute]
Student: Shin Hayul (Second Year)
After the training session ended, I sat on my dorm bed, reading the results.
[The power of your spell is acceptable, but the activation speed is abysmal. Even compared to newly enrolled freshmen, your casting is over 27 times slower.]
[And it's not as if your spells are particularly strong either. Considering your preparation time, the results are disappointingly weak—like watching a broken faucet drip.]
[Overall Evaluation: A pitiful display of magic unworthy of a second-year student.]
All I could do was sigh.
Every line stabbed right into my bones.
It felt like my skull was being crushed under a hammer forged from pure truth.
[Comprehensive Grade: Below Standard]
[Evaluation: Ineligible for Ranking]
[P.S. Consider pursuing a different path.]
"Below standard…"
That last handwritten note pierced my heart like an ice pick.
"I know. I know I'm lacking…"
An AI-incompatible.
Because I can't use AI compression, my casting speed is inevitably slow.
And without AI assistance, my formulas lack precision, so the power is weaker too.
It's only natural I'd be graded like this.
My family's been sending messages urging me to give up and come home.
To stop disgracing the family name and return quietly.
That's what Father said.
"…A whole year."
He even added that I'd wasted a full year doing nothing.
And it wasn't just him—everyone said the same.
What's the point of talent in magic, they said,
when I lack the most crucial component?
Why would a defective failure who can't use modern magic struggle so desperately?
A year has passed, and I still haven't shown "real progress," so what else could they expect?
From their perspective, they were right.
But—
"I haven't stagnated."
Say what they will—
If there's one thing I can't deny, it's that I have improved.
I'm growing.
A year ago, my spells took ten seconds to cast.
Now, they take eight.
My formulas are more stable. My power, stronger.
Even when double casting, my spell structure no longer wavers.
My magic hasn't stagnated.
To those blessed with AI, that might sound trivial.
But to me—each step forward is real, tangible progress.
"I'm not giving up."
I haven't stopped—so how could I quit now?
I will become a Mage.
To prove everyone wrong.
To fulfill my long-held dream—
to reach the end of the path of magic.
I will never give up.
"…Haa."
With renewed resolve, I folded the report and tucked it away.
After taking several deep breaths to calm my messy emotions, I stood up.
'Time to train.'
There's no time to sit and mope.
Every minute spent whining could be used to refine my formulas instead.
If I'm lacking, then I'll work harder.
That's all there is to it.
'And I did just buy new study materials…'
Good.
Let's start fresh—with a new mindset.
I silently cheered myself on and pulled out the books I'd bought recently.
They were from an old bookstore.
The standard textbooks and famous reference materials the school provided were useless to someone like me.
So I had no choice but to buy old volumes documenting ancient magic systems and study them on my own.
'Where should I start?'
I picked up the old books one by one, inspecting their covers.
Which one would be the most useful?
"Hm?"
Then, suddenly—
My eyes caught on a single book.
"This one…"
Among the weathered tomes over a hundred years old stood one book in pristine condition—a crimson hardcover.
Maybe because it was bound in leather, it looked especially elegant.
"Did I buy this one?"
I didn't remember.
Maybe it slipped in by mistake when I was picking them out?
As I examined it closer, the title came into view.
A hurriedly scrawled cursive script.
It was written in an ancient language, and the handwriting was terrible,
but not entirely unreadable.
"Ray Bell Bytenor?"
A rather ordinary title for such a peculiar-looking book.
Ray Bell Bytenor—the first Great Magus in human history.
"It's been a while."
The book was a kind of autobiography or myth chronicling his legendary life.
Every aspiring Mage has read it at least once.
Of course, I had too—though only as a digital copy, not a physical one like this.
"Could this be a first edition?"
That was my first thought as I casually opened the book—
Fwoooosh!
Light burst out from its pages.
"Ugh!"
A dizzying sensation hit me.
A sharp pain, like someone stabbing directly into my brain.
And then—
'To the successor who shares my condition, who can hear this voice—I, Ray Bell Bytenor, leave behind this book.'
A voice I'd never heard before
echoed directly inside my mind.