I silently accepted the memories flooding my consciousness from my subconscious mind. The hereditary tutorials that stemmed from my Elven bloodline all pointed to one thing.

A Mana Awakening.

Or to be exact: unblocking my untouched mana veins, accepting mana as an extension of my mind and body. And finally: filling the boundary between my soul and body with mana.

According to my newly attained memories, Mana Awakenings were semiautomatic processes that all young Elven children went through. The only condition set for an Awakening to occur was; accepting mana as an extension of their being when an Awakening was due, which all Elven children consented to subconsciously.

However—because of my high intelligence stat—I was now in full control of whether I Awaken or not. Using that authority, I reached within myself and pulled the ambient mana floating closest to my skin into my body. ‘Kuh…why does everything hurt?’ As the mana pierced my body and entered my mana veins, every pore on my skin screamed in pain. The raw mana violently surged through my body, destroying the many impurities blocking my mana veins.

After roughly seven cycles of mana ripping through my body, I directed all the controlled mana into my mana-nodes, then to the soul-body boundary. But a few seconds after entering the boundary, all the mana just… vanished.

Bewildered, I tried to direct the mana to phantasmal space yet the same thing happened, the mana dissipated without a trace within my body, and so did my excitement of getting to understand the wonders of this world. My strained nerves relaxed as the only thing keeping me conscious ended up being a spectacular disappointment.

Exhausted, I lazily glanced at the status screen in hope of any changes.

+

Names: Taryl Oryil

Titles: ■■■, ■■, ■, ■■■, ■■, ■, ■■, ■■, ■■, ■■■, ■■, ■■, ■■■, ■■■, ■■, ■■, ■■■, ■■, ■■■, ■■■, ■■■■, ■, Overseer of Past Lives, ■■, ■

Class: -

Race: Dark Apostle Elf

Level: 0

Mana Affinity: water, earth, fire, air & darkness

Mana: negligible

Mana Regeneration: -

Intelligence: 1384

Agility: 0

Vitality: 9

+

With what had to be my most childish smile, I allowed myself to fall into a deep dreamless slumber. At least there was some change. Progress, albeit ‘negligible’.

***

My days after that achievement was divided into two parts; studying the Lesser Spell Archives during the day and absorbing mana at night. Under Cyriel’s watchful eyes, it was difficult to absorb large quantities of mana during the day, especially after the incident. In fact, some nights—when Adon disappeared for weeks on end—we would all snuggle up in their bedroom chamber, making it impossible to carry out my arcane practices in secret.

The ‘negligible’ stat on my mana never changed, even after sixteen months of hard work. And at the tender age of two, I realized I developed a slight insomnia problem. Sleeping was nigh impossible without absorbing mana for at least an hour, even if it meant absorbing a single thread of mana per minute to avoid detection, I needed to do it.

Of course, this had nothing to do with me being a hardworking guy, I was simply terrified of failing the quest. The trauma of having my soul corroded sickled at my mind every day. Every hour. Every fucking second.

Syra had long cured my physical wounds, but the deep gashes on my psyche were far from scabbing.

That’s right, I was now fully embracing my new life as a marionette with pain as my strings.

So I diligently studied the magical formulas stored in the Archives and ceaselessly absorbed mana, frantically trying to fulfill the puppet master’s commands. And fortunately or not, the Lesser Spell Archives were neatly packed with more than a thousand spells, with even the simplest one taking an entire day to memorize.

Wondering what kind of superhuman mental capacities the residents of this world had, I leisurely scrolled down the magical formula of the water and dark attribute spell Plagued Flood, I had just mastered.

Naturally, I only mastered some of the magical theorems, whether I would be able to manifest a physical Fire Ball or Wind Blade was still up for debate. No scratch that, with the negligible stat on my mana, I’d say it’s not possible.

That’s not to say I didn’t notice any changes, my mana sensitivity had dramatically increased and I could now see the many invisible runes drawn on the house walls and apparatus’.

Just like that, three more monotonously tiresome years passed, and I dubbed myself the most anxious five-year-old. Thankfully, it was around this time that Cyriel allowed Alice and I to roam around the house freely. After thoroughly exploring every nook and cranny of the large three-bedroom house, I was left in awe by the Elven technology.

Even without electricity to aid their technological advancement, the denizens of this world seemed to have achieved similar results using magic, from the mana-powered stove to the small portable device that Cyriel used to contact Adon when he was away on one of his military trips.

The plumbing also wasn’t lacking as things like flushable toilets and warm baths were the norm. The same could be said for the decor and furniture strategically organized around the house which looked as though they had been sculpted and handcrafted by world-class artisans.

Well, that is with the exceptions of Alice’s bland bedroom and the empty room with the straw bed I deemed my hideout. Though we were promised more furniture soon…

All in all, the only things missing were appliances similar to home entertainment systems like televisions to keep a certain little parasite busy—far away from me. ‘Speak of the devil,’ quickly dispersing the mana surrounding me and distorted my current apathetic expression into one of a happy child. I Grabbed one of the many dolls settled around me, my gaze drifting to Cyriel who had Alice in tow behind her.

“Yl, sweetie, why don’t you want to play with your sister?” Cyriel said as she walked over and squatted in front of me. “You know, she really does want to spend time with you.”

‘You don’t need to exaggerate…we both know you just need a break from that little devil.’

Fighting back a helpless sigh, I frowned slightly and pouted my cheeks, mimicking a grumpy expression. “Fine, but only for a little bit,” I said, knowing full well Cyriel would not take no for an answer.

Cyriel ruffled my hair and smiled broadly, exposing the rows of her gleaming white teeth. “Good, you two take care of each other. I’ll bring some snacks later,” she said before leaving the room.

I turned to Alice, her silver hair drooped messily down her back, making her seem paler than she actually was. Looking into her intelligent jewel-like eyes, I couldn’t help but recall the passing thought I had once pondered on.

Usually, five-year-olds were slobbering agglomerations of annoyance, or at least they were in my previous life. But this kid was nothing short of a genius, she absorbed every bit of knowledge she could get her emerald eyes on.

Her abnormal intellectual capacity was also the reason I didn’t have to act completely ignorant when interacting with my new family, seeing how Cyriel reacts to Alice as though she’s a normal child curious about the world. ‘I guess she is…’ I thought to myself, letting out the breath I’d been holding in.

“So, Al, what do you want to play?” I asked, kissing my study session goodbye.

Alice tightened her grip on the wooden doll she was carrying in her arms. Tapping her tiny foot on the rough floor, she exuded the pretentious air of a scholar in deep thought. Gradually, a tight-lipped smile crept on her face, “Charades,” she said politely, placing her wooden doll in my scarred, trembling hands, “I wish to indulge in a game of charades, dear bother.”

Bone-chilling. She really, truly, was creepy. Eerily so. And although my trembling arms weren’t caused by the Porcelain Demon, I can’t deny her addition to it.

After a few attempts, I managed to unlock the simple latch on Alice’s wooden doll. The hollow insides of the doll contained a deck of homemade cards and a folded scroll, transcribed with strange symbols; theosoglyphics.

These complex symbols were what made up magical formulas, and to my knowledge, there was a total of 66795 theosoglyphics. Most of which were derived from the 48 spread out in my hands.

“Alright,” I said as I ran my finger through the scroll, searching for the perfect spell to start the game with, “give me a minute.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ah, this is a good one. The clues for the second is base: Umi, Sytri, Imi, Gyi, Inni, Setnyii. And for the third summit, we have: Uilg, Sif, Itnigt, Xhin.” I said, trying my hardest to pronounce the goosebump-inducing glyph names.

Alice’s face contorted in annoyance as she creased her sharp brows and plopped to the ground. “Oh, that’s quite difficult for the first round, no?”

I didn’t respond to her short rant, after all, she wouldn’t even hear what I had to say with how engrossed she was in thought.

‘Is she really a five-year-old…?’ I had a nagging suspicion that she was the same as me; a transmigrator. But oddly enough, I also knew I was the strange one in the house—the only person who found her intelligence illogical.

After a few minutes of solitary deliberation, Alice’s face brightened with a cute smile. “The spell is Earth Fissure. And the strength of this particular spell doesn’t depend on the length or intricacy of its magical formula, but the size of the caster’s mana pool,” she said mechanically, gently pinching sections of her right hand, a habit she had grown at some point to help collect her thoughts. “The glyph sequence for the second stratum is—”

Alice continued to perfectly fill the gaps in the second and third strata of the spell, going as far as to construct the first stratum without any source of reference. Memorizing a grand total of 2783 glyphs in their correct sequences.

I spent the next two hours helping Alice construct all 47 strata of the spell.

‘Playing this ‘game’ is actually draining me more than studying a single magical formula for days… Hmm?’

Sensing an irregularity in the surrounding mana, I subconsciously dropped the cards and turned my attention to Alice. She was flustered as the ambient mana flooded into her body, but she didn’t look pained or in any sort of discomfort…

“Eh? Eh?” Alice muttered in confusion, her eyes slightly widened, she stared at me as though I had the answers to her predicament.

“Mother! Something is wrong with Alice!”

It didn’t even take a minute for Cyriel to rush into the room anxiously. However, her expression relaxed when she saw Alice.

“It’s okay, Al. It’ll be over soon, just don’t fight it,” she said, caressing Alice’s back.

“Mhm...”

Alice’s Awakening didn’t last long, thirty minutes later Cyriel clasped her hand together on her chest, tears of joy welling up at the corners of her eyes. “Thank Manasael, seems like you Awakened without issue,” she said, wiping away the tears with a silver handkerchief, her expression further beamed. “Right! Your father will be ecstatic when he hears the news. Come with, Yl.”

“Yes…”

“Hm? Is something bothering you, sweetie?” Cyriel asked, picking up on my absentmindedness.

Of course, something was wrong… Alice’s Mana Awakening didn’t differ much from mine—in fact, the only difference was that I controlled my Awakening—so why? Why were the ripples of mana roiling from her body so abundantly pure? I was hoping for a clue the day my sibling Awakened but…

‘Fuck.’

“…No. Nothing's wrong,” I said with a gentle smile while shaking my head vigorously. “I’m just excited to talk to father!”

“Mm… Right, I know you are, but…if it’s about your Awakening, don’t worry about it,” she said warmly, reaching her hand out to me. “We Elves are the beloved children of Manasael.”

“Yes, mother,” I replied curtly. Grabbing her hand, I ignored the fanatical glint in her eyes and let her lead me to the dining room.

In the room, Cyriel sat us around the dining table and picked up the white oval-shaped object on the kitchen counter. She infused a fraction of her mana into the handheld device, brightening the golden runic inscriptions on its surface. And after a bright pulsation of light, Cyriel placed the middle of the table.

[Hello? Cyriel, how many times do I—]

“Alice had an awakening!” Cyriel said, practically screaming at the floating egg-shaped object.

[What? When…? And did you already test her affinities? What about Taryl?]

“Calm down. No, on both accounts. And please don’t start, darling.”

[…I wasn’t, and don’t get her tested as per our agreement.]

“Of course, I didn’t. She just awakened…”

[Good. I really have to go, but…do take care. As for Yl, how could y—]

The communication device fell blandly on the table as the golden runes dimmed before Adon could finish, not that I couldn’t predict his next words. Adon and Cyriel’s conversations left me speechless every time but I was starting to get a better understand of the peculiarity of their relationship.

“Let’s get dinner ready. Shall we?” Cyriel said, spinning on her heel in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m sure I can add a few more dishes in accordance with Alice’s Awakening.”

***

I slowly tumbled into my bed, barely able to walk after Alice’s celebratory feast. ‘Cyriel’s cooking really is the best.’ It definitely is better than the cuisines I dined on when I lived as a vagrant, no doubt.

Such mundane thoughts kept me company as I awaited my nightly check-up. And sure enough, like clockwork, thirty minutes later Cyriel visited as I lay in bed pretending to be asleep, gifting me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before heading into the bathroom for her usual evening bath.

When the house fell completely silent, I began my nightly routine of absorbing mana but after five minutes I stopped out of frustration. Alice’s Awakening was bothering me far more than I was willing to admit, stirring up thoughts I had hidden deep within my mind.

“What exactly am I doing wrong?” I mumbled. There weren’t any clues in the spells I studied, Eve hadn't found anything searching my past lives, and even the very nature of mana absorption was quite straightforward. “Spells…”

I couldn’t even say the word without letting out a long sigh, the magic of this world was bound by strict systemic rules that made me believe the wishful thought of ‘turning back time’ I once had was cooked up during a severe psychotic breakdown.

“I need a break…” I said, my cheeks burning with shame. I jumped out of my bed and stealthily made my way through the darkness to the small wine cabinet in the dining room. Putting my hand directly on top of the rune placed on its side, I began absorbing mana via the mana veins in my hand.

Most of the mana seeped straight into my body, but a tiny amount reacted with the rune, opening the cabinet. Salivating at the exquisite collection of alcohol, I helped myself to a glass of white wine. The bathroom was built closer to the master bedroom and Alice’s room so I didn’t have to worry about Cyriel interrupting me while I generate a buzz…

Or at least I usually didn’t have to!

I almost spat out the therapeutic substance when I heard footsteps approach me. But after swiftly collected my wits, I hid in the pitch-black corner of the room, praying to Manasael to save me from being the victim of a bloody bludgeoning. And it seemed the Elven God heard my prayers, my tense muscles relaxed when I saw the glowing blue orb which shone a dim light over Cyriel’s shoulder, illuminating the many droplets of water on the surface of her damp hair.

Humming softly to herself, Cyriel took out a bowl of berry-like fruits from the refrigerator-like compartment, but when she reached for the wine cabinet she tilted her head in confusion. In that single moment, I didn’t dare to blink, not even as the beads of cold sweat rolled into my eyes.

However, Manasael’s divine light was still shining brightly onto me as Cyriel shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the dining table after retrieving a wine bottle of her own, the thick towel wrapped around her body cushioning her sit. Taking a bite out of one of her berries she sent threads of mana into the communication device. But there was no response from whoever she was trying to contact.

Nevertheless, Cyriel didn’t stop hounding. And after 30-odd minutes, [Merciful Manas! What’re you doing calling me at this ungodly hour, Cyriel?!]

“My apologies, Syra. It’s just Alice Awoke… And I’ve been wondering—”

[I see. So you’re worried the boy won’t Awaken? Why in the world would you think that’s a good enough reason to disturb this old lady’s sleep?!]

“A-actually that’s quite worrisome for me. Is it possible that Yl has been abandoned by God?” Cyriel asked, her hoarse and shaky voice silenced Syra.

[…Firstly, take a sip of the tall glass of wine I know you have in hand and breath.]

Chuckling softly, Cyriel took in a few shallow breaths and once her trembling stopped she downed a full glass of wine.

[Very good. Now, could the gods be at fault? I dare not assume. However, I will say, not even the two brats sitting on the throne have the ability to do this. Not to that degree at least.]

“What about the Shaman? Maybe she can help?”

[Cyriel, you do realize what kind of person my master is, right? That old hag will boil your son’s bare soul in liquefied mana if she knew about Taryl’s condition. The only reason I didn’t do the same is; because you’re Vadil's granddaughter.] what sounded like a bored yawn transmitted through the communication device. [And I for one, don’t understand why you’re so frantic anyway. I thought you of all people would find this situation quite perfect, no?]

“No…he can’t even go outside if he isn’t able to manipulate mana… Why would I find that ‘perfect’?” Cyriel asked, she took an elegant sip of wine as her expression turned completely sullen. “What will he do for money? What about family? I love my kids, but I’m sure even Yl wouldn’t want to live thousands of years cramped in a house while I pampered him…”

‘I wouldn’t mind.’

While I was daydreaming about a possible paradise, Syra scoffed. [So you too caught wind of the rumors? Fine. The boy can be my disciple’s assistant. Just know, this will nullify my debt to your family, fourth princess.]

“You can’t just write off your debt without consulting Cyrill,” Cyriel said in a hurry. “I don’t even know what rumors you’re referring to. But if that’s just your way of offering help, I’ll gladly accept it. Mm. This is perfect, Yl will have access to the agricultural sector under your direct tutelage without having to go through the schooling system.”

[Putting your shamelessness aside, he won’t be ‘under my tutelage’. His position as assistant—should you accept—can only be described as a glorified farmhand.] Syra said, exasperated. [Can I please go back to sleep, now? I know you’re anxious, but we’ll have to continue our chat later.]

“Of course. And thank you, Syra,” Cyriel said. Once the communication device dimmed, she relaxed her shoulders. “She saw right through me, huh?”

Saying that Cyriel left the kitchen. I let out a deep breath as my lungs deflated, “Farmhand?” I said, perplexed. It didn’t sound like a bad gig, but why would Cyriel be satisfied with me having such a menial job?

I shook my head.

I still didn’t have a decent grasp on this world's economy, thinking too much would only be a waste of time. After all, the words ‘fourth princess’ already froze my brain. No matter how much I thought about it, it didn’t seem like Cyriel was a princess, and this house definitely wasn’t a royal palace. ‘And what did she mean I couldn’t go outside?’

There were too many unknowns.

But I didn’t have the luxury of pondering. My scars began to ache with a burning itching sensation, a reminder that I needed to continue my nightly absorption of mana.