CHAPTER~5 Unacknowledged Sixteen,
In this world, a sixteenth birthday was a celebration of honor.
Families gathered—father, mother, siblings, servants—laughing beneath banners and music.
Children under sixteen could circulate mana using their hearts as temporary cores, but turning sixteen meant something greater.
On that day, the family would go to the church together.
The more people who attended, the greater the honor.
A priest would personally construct a true mana core, sealing a child’s future.
I had seen it once.
At my sister’s sixteenth birthday, the manor became a festival.
The mother who never smiled laughed freely.
Father returned from the capital.
My brother came back from the academy.
Even the servants celebrated.
Everyone went to the church.
Except me.
They feared I would ruin the day.
Or perhaps they feared the real Louis would—desperate for attention, unworthy of standing beside them.
While preparing my academy documents, I noticed the date.
Today was my sixteenth birthday.
No church.
No family.
Not even a wish.
The old me wouldn’t have cared. Birthdays had never meant much.
But sixteen was different.
Sixteen meant a mana core.
And to build one, I needed a guardian.
I had planned to avoid Mother until the academy.
That had been the plan.
In the end, I dragged myself to her office anyway.
The head butler stood before the door. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw me.
“What are you doing here, Young Master?”
“I need an audience with Lady Seraphina,” I said.
He paused, studying my expression, then turned and entered the office.
“My lady,” he announced, “Young Master Louis is requesting an audience.”
Inside, Seraphina’s pen slowed.
So he came after all.
That child is hopeless.
After claiming he wouldn’t trouble me again… what did I expect?
Yesterday, I almost thought he had changed.
A few moments passed.
When the butler returned, his expression had already answered for her.
“My lady says she is busy,” he said calmly. “You may leave.”
That was all.
No explanation. No apology.
“…Understood,” I replied.
I turned away without another word. Disappointment settled heavy in my chest,
but I kept my steps steady. Lingering would only look pathetic.
Avoid Mother until the academy—that had been the plan.
So much for that.
There was only one other place I could try.
My sister’s wing.
The moment I entered the corridor, the atmosphere shifted. Servants straightened. One of them stepped forward, blocking my path.
“You’re not allowed here,” a maid said sharply.
Before I could respond, the door opened.
Luneria Casper stepped out.
She looked genuinely irritated, as if my presence had interrupted something important.
“…Why are you here?” she asked.
Her eyes flicked over me,
A servant whispered something urgently, but Luneria raised a hand, silencing them.
“I thought I made myself clear yesterday,” she continued. “You shouldn’t be wandering around.”
“I won’t take long,” I said.
She frowned.
“…You always say that.”
The servants watched closely, tense, ready to intervene.
Luneria’s expression cooled.
“If you have something to say, say it,” she said. “If not—leave.”
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
“…Never mind.”
I turned away.
Behind me, I felt her gaze linger for a fraction longer than necessary.
But she said nothing.
And once again, the day moved on—as if it meant nothing at all.
Only one option remained.
I stopped in the main hall.
The head butler was there, reviewing documents with his usual rigid posture.
“…Excuse me,” I said.
He looked up, surprise flickering across his face before professionalism reclaimed it.
“Yes, Young Master?”
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
“Are you free today?” I asked.
His brow furrowed slightly. “I am attending to household matters, but—”
“I need a guardian,” I said quietly. “To go to the church.”
That stopped him.
The quill paused mid-air.
“…May I ask why?” he said carefully.
I didn’t meet his eyes.
“It’s required,” I replied. “Just once.”
Silence stretched between us
.
The butler studied me—not dismissive, not hostile. Evaluating.
“…Today?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Slowly, he set the papers aside.
“…Very well,” he said. “If it is a formal requirement, I can accompany you.”
I looked up.
“I am a registered household guardian,” he continued evenly. “And I am free for the next few hours.”
He straightened his gloves.
“Prepare yourself, Young Master,” he said. “We will leave shortly.”
For the first time that day, the path forward didn’t feel completely closed.
After I finished preparing, the butler paused near the doorway.
“May I ask,” he said, “why we are going to the church?”
“I need to build a mana core.”
His expression shifted.
“…That means today…”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sixteen today.”
For a brief moment, he said nothing.
The mask slipped.
Understanding crossed his face—quiet, heavy.
“…Is that why you went to Lady Seraphina’s room earlier?”
“Yes.”
Silence followed.
Then he bowed his head slightly—not as a servant, but in acknowledgment.
“I see,” he said. “Very well, Young Master.”
“If you will allow it,” he added, voice steadier now, “I will act as your guardian today.”
He stepped aside and opened the door.
“…And happy birthday.”
He held it open for me.
“Let us not be late.”
As soon as we stepped beyond the manor gates
, I saw it.
The carriage.
A black, lacquered body reinforced with steel lines, noble crest etched into the doors in silver.
Four tall horses stood harnessed at the front, Leather straps, polished metal fittings, and enchanted suspension
So this was what nobles rode.
I’d seen carriages before—from a distance
. Passing through town, rolling past orphanage streets like they belonged to another world.
But standing before one?
That was different.
“…Is this ours?” I asked before I could stop myself.
The head butler glanced at me, then allowed the faintest curve of amusement to touch his expression.
“Yes, Young Master,” he replied. “A standard noble carriage.”
Standard.
I swallowed.
To me, it looked excessive.
A footman opened the door and extended a hand. I hesitated for half a heartbeat
then stepped inside, careful not to trip over my own excitement...
The interior was spacious. Soft leather seats, embroidered cushions, faint warmth from a heating enchantment woven into the floor.
The scent of polished wood and clean cloth lingered in the air.
I sat.
Then bounced slightly.
“…It’s comfortable,” I muttered.
The butler seated himself across from me, folding his hands neatly over his cane.
The door closed.
The carriage lurched forward.
And just like that, the manor began to fade behind us.
I pressed my gaze to the window, unable to help myself.
The road stretched outward—wide stone paths maintained by magic and labor, lined with banners bearing noble insignias.
As we passed the outer districts, the scenery shifted.
Grand estates gave way to merchant streets.
Shops opened their shutters for the day. Bakers carried fresh loaves onto display racks.
Blacksmiths hammered steel, sparks dancing in the morning light
. Children ran past with wooden practice swords, laughing loudly until scolded by parents.
This was the outer town.
Alive.
Crowded.
Real..
People glanced at the carriage, curiosity flickering across their faces. Some bowed instinctively.
Others stepped aside without thinking.
None of them knew who sat inside.
And none of them cared.
The horses picked up speed, hooves striking stone in steady rhythm.
Clop. Clop. Clop.
The sound settled something in my chest.
Excitement bubbled up before I could suppress it.
So this was how it felt.
Not power.
Not recognition.
Movement.
Progress.
The town stretched wider the closer we drew to the central district. Spires rose in the distance white stone towers catching the sun. And beyond them…
The church.
Even from afar, it dominated the skyline.
A massive structure of pale marble and gold trim, floating sigils carved into its outer walls,My throat tightened.
That was where sixteen-year-olds became something more.
Where futures were decided.
The carriage slowed.
The butler met my gaze calmly.
“We will arrive shortly,” he said.
I nodded, forcing my excitement down into something steadier.
This wasn’t just a ride.
This was the first step forward.
The carriage slowed to a stop.
The doors opened, and sound rushed in—footsteps, murmurs,
The church stood before us.
Up close, it was overwhelming.
White marble pillars rose like frozen waves, carved with ancient runes that pulsed softly with light.
Golden inlays traced the edges of the structure, forming sigils of protection and blessing.
People were already gathered at the entrance.
Families stood together—parents adjusting their children’s clothes, siblings whispering excitedly,
servants holding ceremonial offerings. Laughter mixed with nervous anticipation.
Sixteen-year ceremonies were common.
But still important.
Every arrival drew glances.
When I stepped down from the carriage, a few heads turned. Some curious.
Some indifferent.
The murmurs softened, then shifted.
I felt it immediately.
The moment I stepped onto the church grounds, something felt… different.
The air was heavier—but not suffocating.
Warm.
I drew a slow breath, and my chest tightened slightly.
Mana.
Even without trying, I could sense it.
It flowed through the marble
beneath my feet, through the pillars, through the very air itself—
dense, refined, and calm. Unlike the wild, scattered mana outside,
this was ordered. Disciplined. As if the entire church was breathing in a steady rhythm.
My heart reacted on instinct.
A faint pressure spread through my chest, subtle but undeniable,
like something inside me was responding—reaching out.
So this is a place meant for mana cores.
I hadn’t even begun the ritual, yet my body already knew.
The church wasn’t just a building.
It was a vessel.
We approached the entrance.
A priest stood waiting beneath the archway,
robes layered in white and blue, his staff engraved with a crest of the church.
His presence alone carried weight—mana bending slightly around him.
His gaze moved from the butler to me.
“Name?” he asked calmly.
“Louis,” I replied. “Louis Casper.”
The priest’s brow lifted—just a fraction.
“And your purpose for coming today?”
“To construct a mana core,” I said.
That earned a nod.
“Is your family waiting outside?” he asked, already half-turning toward the gathered crowd.
I hesitated.
Then shook my head.
“No,” I said quietly. “He is my guardian.”
I gestured toward the butler.
The priest stopped.
He turned back slowly, eyes moving between us.
Guardian.
Not mother.
Not father.
Not sibling.
Something in his expression shifted.
Confusion—then pause.
Then understanding.
Not pity.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“…I see,” he said softly.
The murmurs behind us faded completely.
The priest straightened, tapping his staff lightly against the stone floor.
“Guardian registration is valid,” he said after a moment. “You may proceed.”
His eyes met mine again—this time gentler.
“Come,” he said. “We will not delay your rite.”
He stepped aside.
The doors opened.
Warm mana spilled out like sunlight.
As I crossed the threshold, the noise of the outside world vanished.
For the first time since waking in this body—
I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to
