The next day at around noon, the three of them left the house. Leaving Streya and Gray to finish up with the rest of the chores.

'So it's just as I thought. Due to this world's reliance on magic, they haven't done much in the field of technology,' thought Arya as he looked at the gravel road and the poorly designed houses.

'Of course, this might be a poor assumption, since this is a rather run-down district,' he corrected himself.

Puddles of standing water were littered about, giving the air a foul smell. Poorly dressed kids chased after each other in a game of tag, their laughs drowned by what sounded like dogs' barking.

'Seems like it's pretty out in the boonies too. I doubt there would be this much greenery in a place nearby town, even if they aren't technologically evolved,' he deduced, after looking at the grass that seemed to be creeping into the community.

As they walked down the gravel road, more and more poorly built houses came into view. It was as if there was an endless row of them.

However, as if put there to break the trend, a normal-looking cottage came into view.

'The person who lives here must be quite wealthy, well at least by our standards,'

Just as Armin moved forward to knock on the door, it opened on its own. An old man dressed in old tattered robes stood on the other side.

"So it's you, huh? And who's this? You brought your family along?" asked the old man, a sort of crazy look in his eyes.

"Hello Mr. Argen, I believe we've met before. I'm Lillian, Armin's m-"

"Yeah, I remember you. You're that ogre's wife, aren't you? Come inside, I'm old, I can't stand so long," he snorted, walking to the one rocking chair in the small house.

As the three of them walked in, the smell of strange chemicals hit their nose, prompting Lillian to cover Arya's nose with her shirt.

"So what may the reason for your visit be? I told you that I'm not going to teach you another spell until you've mastered the first one,"

"You can bring your mother along, but the prerequisite still stands," he said, taking a smoking pipe out of his robe.

His house was a cluttered mess. Near the rocking chair lay strange tools scattered about -most likely magic related.

On the other side of the house, stood a desk cluttered with bottles containing brightly colored liquids.

It sort of reminded Arya of what an untidy alchemist's house would look like.

"I did master the spell. That's why I'm here," replied Armin, his chest pumped out in pride.

"Ho, show me then," instructed Armin, an intrigued smile on his face.

"In here?"

"Where else? Just hurry up and show me," Argen said, rocking on his chair with an excited smile.

"O-okay," replied Armin hesitantly, before holding out his hands.

"Arcia Virtu," as he chanted this, a series of red translucent concentric rings appeared in front of him, before beginning to rotate like clockwork.

After about 2 seconds, an invisible force knocked all the tools on the floor to the side, before the circle disappeared.

"I would hardly call that a mastered spell. But it's good enough I suppose," said the old man, both an impressed and disappointed look on his face.

The whole time Arya had been watching intently, trying to figure out where he was going wrong during the process.

'It doesn't seem like I'm doing anything wrong. I wonder what it could be,' wondered Arya as he stared at Armin.

"What's with the baby? Why did you bring him along? Actually, why is your mother here as well? I doubt you still need her to hold your hand," snorted the old man before standing up and approaching Arya.

'Don't get any funny ideas old man,' thought Arya as Argen stared at him intently.

"What are you doing?" scowled Lillian, holding Arya away.

"If I wanted to steal your baby I would've killed all of you and taken him. What would I do with a baby anyway?" replied Argen, before touching Arya's back.

Arya felt a warm sensation spread across his back to the rest of his body, before focusing at his core.

At that moment it was as if he could clearly feel it, as if he could almost reach out and grab it.

"Magicless, what a shame," he murmured to himself before walking back.

"Magicless?!" shouted Arya.

He had been trying to ignore the signs, he thought that perhaps since he was so close to casting base magic, that maybe they had been wrong.

"So it can talk? How old are you? Doesn't matter, I guess some people are just born above average," snorted the old man, the small speck of interest he had in his voice waning just as quick as it appeared.

"What do you mean I'm magicless?"

"It's just as I said. Perhaps you're still too young to understand. You don't have the ability to cast spells."

"At best, if you try your hardest, you'll be able to cast the spell your brother just cast. But anything beyond that is out of your reach," he continued.

"How can you tell? What proof do you have? You can't just assume that," shouted Arya, however it came out as more of a cry than actual words due to his babyish voice.

He had been reincarnated into a new world and had been presented with a new chance in the form of magic.

But now the man in front of him was saying that he didn't even have that much. That life had just thrown him into a backward world as a cripple.

Arya's mother began rocking him, she knew that this revelation was for his own good.

"You're mana core isn't active. Sorry kid, some people are born with it, while others aren't," he continued, a slight strain in his voice as he said it.

"Arcia Virtu," shouted Arya, holding his baby hands out.

"The world is an unf-" before Argen could complete his sentence, a series of translucent gold concentric rings appeared in front of Arya.

They seemed to be pulsating, with every millisecond that passed, they would dim then brighten up, like they were flickering candles about to be snuffed.

Everyone in the room held their breath, a cold breeze blowing past them.

"Wait, what are those runes. This isn't Arcia Virtu," shouted Argen before running to stop Arya.

However, it was too late. As if the concentric rings were rusty, they began rotating, jerking as they turned like clockwork.

In that millisecond, Arya could feel his core quite clearly. And all that radiated from it was an aching pain.

It felt as if a dagger were being run into his chest, however, he fought through it. He had to show life that he wasn't going to lose, not this time.

Right as Argen reached Arya, a bright light pulsed from the concentric rings, sending everyone flying.

Arya's eyes rolled to the back of his head, it felt as if something in his chest had exploded.