KWAANG! KWAANG! KWANG!
It seemed the time for training would continue on endlessly.
The more I used Magic Missile, the more my mana dropped.
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All of it.
I drew in mana from the surroundings using my intent, supplementing my reserves.
‘I never thought this would work.’
For most mages, it’s common sense to accumulate mana only through meditation.
But as I kept training and gradually ran out of mana, I came up with a trick.
Right now, all I had to do was fire off Magic Missiles.
Even if I used up mana, I could just keep standing.
Meditation usually requires a sitting posture.
‘But there’s no rule saying you have to sit.’
It’s not set in stone; it’s just that sitting is generally best for concentrating for long periods.
‘There sure are all sorts of methods in Mugong.’
Sitting cross-legged, it’s called jagong. Lying down, it’s wagong. Moving, it’s haenggong.
Depending on the martial art, there are all kinds of ways.
‘So if I just don’t move, couldn’t I draw in mana even without any special methods?’
‘Building a Ma Na Seokeul would be too much, but maybe with brief meditation I could still replenish myself?’
With that simple thought, I began to draw in mana. All while launching missiles non-stop from my lips!
The result, as you can see, spoke for itself.
“Huff… huff…”
My confident older sister was getting exhausted.
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‘Good.’
As I gathered mana, I could keep casting magic endlessly.
“Alright, here comes the next one.”
“Hmph… bring it on!”
“Magic Missile!”
It was a trick I hadn’t expected—or rather, a new technique.
‘I can replenish as much as I use!’
Even if it’s not a perfect balance, it doesn’t matter.
Where others could fire off one or two, I could unleash twice as many.
It might be impossible to move while doing this, but that didn’t matter.
Just being able to bombard spells like this meant I was several times stronger while standing.
If this were a defense game, I’d be like a spell-bombarding tower!
“Heh. Here comes another! Magic Missile!”
Shweeeek—
The unexpected benefit made me laugh out loud.
***
While training my mana, I also observed and learned from my sister’s methods.
Strengthening Mugong and magic at the same time!
Good.
Very good.
If this keeps up, I could train all day, I thought, when—
“Tsk… You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Hm?”
“Uh?!”
A familiar voice I hadn’t heard in a while reached my ears.
“Eek!? I’m leaving first!”
“…Traitor!”
“Heh heh…”
Above a ragged robe, a pair of eyes glinted, narrow and stretched sideways.
That sharp gaze made the shabbiness of the robe disappear.
‘The problem isn’t just that the robe is shabby.’
Its owner was a War Mage, wandering the battlefield in search of enlightenment at the crossroads of life and death.
A War Mage.
This War Mage’s robe had been worn traveling through battlefields.
It might look ragged outside, but inside, it was filled with magic.
Who knew what else might come out of the pocket dimensions inside it.
‘They say a War Mage’s robe is like a walking miniature magic tower.’
That’s not an exaggeration.
And this War Mage was my teacher—Geirn—who had just returned from a long journey, gazing at me.
He had stayed on as a retainer thanks to ties with my father, but he was not someone meant to stay in a place like this.
Heh—
He was smiling, but when my teacher made that face, it never meant he was pleased.
‘No, he’s angry.’
I could guess why.
Seeing that, I grinned right back at my teacher.
“Oh? Smiling, are you?”
“It’s been a while, Master.”
I gave a deep, respectful bow.
“Well, look at you. Even your cheekiness has grown. Did you fling those spells thanks to that confidence?”
“As if.”
The reason he was angry—though it was for training, it was because I’d bombarded my sister with magic.
My teacher grew up on the battlefield.
He’d hurled magic countless times at his enemies, but always out of necessity.
The more proper the War Mage, the less easily they used magic. They say those consumed by the madness of magic are doomed—and not for nothing.
So, from my teacher’s point of view, for me to fire off magic at my sister…
‘To put it simply, it’s like pointing a gun at your ally.’
It’s something you should never do in ordinary circumstances.
“Got a little magic under your belt and you’re on top of the world? Even a moment’s carelessness can spell trouble, you know?”
Leisurely, yet prickly—my teacher stared at me, still fuming.
Heh—
Smiling with anger.
His eyes were stern, but there was nothing I couldn’t explain.
At my sister’s request, with half-permission from my father, and—
“Hmmm…”
Before he left on his long trip, Master had given me an assignment.
“You finished that task—and then some? You?”
“Yes. Magic Missile, Light, Cantrip, Dig. Mastery of those four spells. Right?”
“Yeah, right. To be honest, I set it thinking you couldn’t do it. A noble brat like you needs to be knocked down a peg.”
“So, it was to discipline me?”
“That’s right.”
…Unnecessarily honest.
Mages might not lie, but Master always went overboard.
That personality brought a lot of trouble.
The bigger problem was that he smashed through all that trouble with his skill.
If even a teacher like that recognized something, it was real skill.
If your ability was certain, you’d be treated accordingly.
‘But his standards are brutal.’
There’s only one way to persuade such a teacher.
“And yet you did it? No, you went beyond?”
“Yes!”
“Glad you’ve gained some confidence.”
“My skills are solid too.”
“Let’s see for ourselves. If it’s not perfect, you’ll see what happens.”
“Anytime. Shall I start now?”
He nodded instead of answering.
“The little trick of mana. Cantrip.”
Fwaaaah—
Cantrip, a magic for playing small tricks using mana.
It’s a 1st-class spell, but the level changes depending on the mage’s skill.
‘The point is, how well can you control mana?’
A beginner would cast Cantrip, and that would just be the end—mana rippling, nothing more.
But.
‘My Mugong helps a lot in manipulating mana.’
With my level of proficiency—
Fwaaah—
I could manifest mana visibly above my hand.
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I could create all sorts of shapes atop it!
Triangle, square, circle.
And then Goblin, Orc, Dragon.
Mana twisted into all kinds of forms.
“Oh?”
“Heh, see that?”
With just this little spell for mischief—Cantrip—I easily proved my skills.
‘Strike while the iron’s hot.’
But I didn’t plan to let my eccentric teacher’s surprise end there.
‘I have to make it clear.’
To ensure I could move more freely from now on, I needed to demonstrate my skills properly.
“The power of protection—Armor. Armor. Armor.”
“Even stacking?”
WOOOOOOONG—
A thick wall rose between Master and me.
A wall conjured by layering Armor spells multiple times.
“It’s solid. This is about as strong as a Shield.”
“With so many thin layers, it might be even tougher to break through.”
“Hmm… you picked that up well.”
Stack paper thick enough, and it becomes armor.
Weave thin spider silk enough, and it becomes a bulletproof vest.
Even just three layers of Armor, as strong as they are, would stop arrows.
I didn’t think it was weaker than the class 3 spell Shield.
‘It might even be stronger.’
Magic is all about how you use it.
“So, you made this… to continue those tricks from earlier?”
“Of course.”
The tricks from earlier—firing Magic Missiles at my sister for training.
“The power to pierce anything—Magic Missile!”
Suuuuaaaah—
The Magic Missile I conjured now spun with added force.
“!”
Master’s narrow eyes widened.
‘He noticed.’
Unlike before, he was seeing up close.
As a class 5 mage and War Mage, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize the force imbued in this Magic Missile.
“It’s been modified? You’ve gotten that far!”
Instead of answering, I waved my hand.
Suuuaaaah—
A signal. The spinning Magic Missile shot at the layered Armor.
KWAANG! KWAANG! KWANG!
‘Just as I intended!’
The spinning Magic Missile tore right through the Armor.
Three explosions in a row!
Fragments of Armor scattered everywhere! At the same time, the Magic Missile lost all its power and disappeared.
“Ha!”
Master had even read the meticulous calculations behind it—all too clearly!
Eyes I thought couldn’t get any wider grew even larger. His shock was palpable.
He was left speechless for a moment, then finally opened his mouth.
“Did you… have some kind of Awakening?”
I just smiled at my teacher.
Heh—
Awakening.
In this world, that’s what they call those with special abilities—mages and knights alike.
Sometimes, someone with little talent is discovered to have nearly genius-level abilities.
Someone once thought untalented in magic, but whose power and abilities soar as time passes.
They call those people ‘Awakened.’
But about this Awakening, Master always said—
“There’s no such thing. Don’t hope for lucky breaks like that. It’s not Awakening—it’s just the result of hard work.”
He always said all Awakening was an illusion.
He saw even sudden, dramatic growth as the product of effort.
Like climbing steps built through hard work.
He insisted there was no such thing as Awakening.
For a teacher like that to bring up Awakening himself…
A teacher who never easily changed his mind.
For him to say that meant even he saw my growth as dramatic.
‘Well, if you call it Awakening, then I’ve had one.’
But even Master couldn’t know about my unique Awakening.
The knowledge, the experience I brought from my previous life.
He had no way of knowing that I’d used all that to grow in such a short time.
And I had no intention of telling him.
‘Best to leave it at that.’
Thanks to my past life, I’d gained this explosive growth.
You could say, as Master did, it’s just the result of long experience, rather than an Awakening.
But, of course, Master didn’t know that.
“…I need to go talk for a bit.”
Without even a moment for a proper reunion after so long, he left the training hall without hesitation.