A body and mind worn out from hard labor all day long.
The only thing to comfort it was this lodging.
Siwoo trudged open the door to the rundown building.
Surprisingly, Siwoo's place was incredibly spacious.
It made sense—it had been remodeled from a stable that once housed twenty horses.
A filthy ceiling at least ten meters high, haystacks serving as beds and couches.
The perk was the stunning sky view peeking through the gaps in the log roof.
"And no rent is a nice bonus too."
The minor downsides? It was built so eco-friendly that rainwater trickled in during storms, winter brought a bone-chilling cold, and summer brought the piercing stench of excrement soaked into the floor.
Still, humans were adaptable creatures.
Even this stable—worse than a pampered hamster's cage—felt somewhat attached and comfortable after five years of living there.
"Ah, damn. Talk about a downpour, though."
The whole stable was a muddy mess from the rain.
The trenches he'd dug for heavy downpours like this had overflowed, flooding right into his living space.
He stripped off his caretaker uniform and headed into the haystack that filled his bed.
Tucked inside was a small glass vial.
He'd swiped an old perfume bottle Amelia had tossed—a high-end, elegant little flask.
"This is almost gone too."
A faint greenish liquid sloshed at the bottom of the perfume vial.
This liquid, shimmering subtly with iridescent hues, was Mana Essence liquefied through alchemical fixation.
Every professor at the Academy was loaded.
Just like rich folks wouldn't lick a yogurt lid, witches tossed out even the few drops of Mana Essence left at the bottom of the vial.
Drops that could buy a few packs of smokes, no less.
"Without this, I'd be totally screwed."
It was a golden opportunity for Siwoo.
While cleaning up research scraps, he could pocket those stray drops of Mana Essence.
"Just a tiny bit..."
Siwoo tilted the vial, dabbing about half a drop onto his fingertip.
Unlike women, men couldn't store mana in their bodies.
But Mana Essence in direct contact could be used before it evaporated.
A soft incantation.
"Bloom."
The mana droplet, awakened by Siwoo's spoken command, glowed blue and began emitting light.
If word got out that he could wield magic, it'd spell trouble—so he avoided casting outside of research duties. But tonight, he just wanted to sleep on that fluffy hay.
Siwoo focused his mind, recalling Amelia's telekinesis from earlier that day.
Behind his pupils, in a pitch-black world, intricate laws wove themselves like embroidery.
Mana was the power to create anything.
Telekinesis turned it into invisible physical force and set it in motion.
Today, Amelia had manifested mana as hundreds of circles, each tracing unique orbits.
Like celestial paths dictated by cosmic laws, not a single one overlapped or collided as she individually commanded hundreds of objects.
Siwoo couldn't handle anything that advanced yet.
But...
Controlling only lightweight objects? That wasn't so tough.
So Siwoo put his own spin on Amelia's telekinesis.
Siwoo slowly opened his eyes.
A smoky haze rippled from the corners like heat distortion.
Mana reflection light—a natural byproduct when a human body channeled mana.
Thousands upon thousands of water droplets now floated around him.
Gathered from the dampness clinging to the floor, burrowed into the mud, soaking the haystacks.
Each droplet sparkled in the moonlight like a tiny gem.
Magic was ultimately about manifesting an imagined landscape according to fixed laws.
The image Siwoo envisioned was Amelia gathering dust motes.
All the water droplets converged in one spot.
And...
"Ah..."
Siwoo let out a quiet sigh.
His focus slipped for just a moment, and the calculations went haywire.
The improvised magic circle for telekinesis demanded three paths total: one for synthesis, one for transformation, one for deployment.
But in the formula handling synthesis and deployment, the mana collided and tangled.
Focused solely on gathering light droplets, he'd deployed the formula—then they merged, mass ballooning until it overloaded a single path.
The water stream, floating airily like some nymph, crashed to the floor in a splash.
At least it was a mercy: puddles formed beyond the trench, but none splashed into Siwoo's living area.
"Failed to calculate the conversion overload coefficient."
Casting unfamiliar spells was always tricky.
Siwoo flopped back into the haystack.
Mental math for an improvised formula wasn't easy, that was for sure.
Still, it was huge progress from the old days.
Back then, even making a candle flame flicker felt like his head would explode.
At this rate, opening the 'gate' to escape this city might not be far off.
"If I add three conversion axes linking the transformation and deployment sections to dampen deployment shock..."
No dice.
Too exhausted today.
Reviewing the spell he'd just cast, Siwoo drifted off to sleep with his eyes closed.
2.
After morning chores and a quick lunch, Siwoo headed to Tarot Town with Takasho.
Sophia's beast-taming mare pulled the driverless carriage at breakneck speed.
Just over thirty minutes later, they stood amid the noisy bustle of Tarot Town's central plaza.
"Same as before—meet at the fountain by ten PM!"
He gave an energetic wave to Takasho, off to play errand boy at Sophia's mansion.
"Whew."
Siwoo paused by the plaza fountain to catch his breath and take in the sights.
Tarot Town in a nutshell: "High Tech in the Renaissance."
Immaculate paved roads snaking everywhere, impossibly tall stone and wooden buildings, streets teeming with crowds and lively clamor—it evoked a modern metropolis.
Gehenna had been cut off from the outside world for over six hundred years, after all.
No wars, no plagues—just six centuries of peace laced with magic. This level of prosperity made perfect sense.
Unlike elite towns like Ars Magna Town or Lenormand Town, Tarot Town was home turf for everyday second-class citizens.
It housed tailors, blacksmiths, clockmakers, jewelers, casters, and confectioners keeping the witches' Gehenna lives comfy.
"Today's fresh-picked apples—five pennies a box!"
"Come to the White Whale Tavern for lively shows and tunes! Ice-cold beer on tap!"
"Embroidered fashions all the rage with the witches—step right in!"
Coachmen soothing spooked horses, barkers dragging pedestrians inside, newsboys hawking papers, merchants puffing pipes while haggling, artists piping flutes beneath the fountain.
The central plaza was always buzzing and chaotic.
Fantasy clamor filling his ears, Siwoo stepped off the carriageway and headed for his destination.
He followed the westward alley from the plaza.
No proper paving this far in, so the path was a bit squelchy.
A holiday, and the White Whale was already packed in broad daylight. Past it, over a tunnel bridge, and there it was—a stone building hunkered in the shade.
Siwoo was burning precious weekend time to visit the magic artifact shop in its half-basement.
"Hello."
The door was ridiculously low, forcing Siwoo to stoop down the stairs.
A faint sulfur tang hung in the air—a quirky shop, maybe ten pyeong.
Ten pyeong wasn't tiny, but crammed shelves and goods made it feel that way.
Colorful reagents lined the back shelves; the ceiling dangled shriveled mystery critters.
"Oh, the lad's back? Haven't seen you around lately—had me worried."
The shopkeeper, sporting a round monocle, greeted him warmly.
He folded his newspaper and stood.
"So, what're you after this time?"
"Any Mana Paper in stock?"
"Lemme check."
The owner skimmed his inventory ledger and pulled a string-tied sheaf from a drawer.
"Just got one in. Singles again?"
"Yeah, please. How much?"
Siwoo pulled the pouch clutched tight to his chest.
Thumbnail-sized coins glinted inside.
Three months of five-penny weekly wages, not a penny spent.
Twelve pennies made one silver coin—so this was exactly five silvers' worth.
He'd scrimped specifically for this, but handing it over still stung.
"Three sheets for one silver."
"Huh? That generous? It was two last time."
"You're the only one asking these days. Cheap enough—take what you want."
"Th-thank you!"
What a windfall.
He'd planned to hold one back for a rare tavern meal.
Not anymore.
Siwoo emptied the pouch into the owner's hands.
"Slave like you needing Mana Paper, though?"
"Uh, long story."
"I sell goods, don't ask questions. Come back anytime."
Grinning with satisfaction, Siwoo turned—and froze solid.
"Hey there, Assistant."
A witch tilting her head curiously, purple eyes sparkling.
Amelia's twin student—the older one.
Odile.
"Ho, they sell magic artifacts even in a dump like this? Wow! What's this? Looks like a mummy!"
The shopkeeper stayed mum as Odile poked at a bizarre bone dangling from the ceiling (some wizened salamander thing).
Fancy lace-trimmed dress, ribbon-strapped half-bonnet, obviously pricey shoes.
Forget the getup—Odile radiated innate glamour and nobility, like a lavishly dressed doll.
No soul dared tell a high witch to keep her hands off the wares.
Why was Odile here?
Siwoo felt his blood run cold.
His grasp of magic was a closely guarded secret.
His one ticket out of this hellish slave grind.
"So, why's a lowly slave assistant all the way out here in Tarot Town's magic shops?"
Odile giggled, circling him playfully.
Siwoo tried hiding the Mana Paper bundle, but it was pointless.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Worst place for the worst possible encounter.
"This just got interesting."
Unlike her academy garb, she was decked in flashy outing clothes, lips curling into a smirk.