Chapter 12
Okay, seriously—what in the world is going on right now…?
I crouched low to the ground, panic clawing at my chest. Sweat trickled down my face as I pressed both hands over it, trying to steady myself, but failing miserably.
At first, I thought it was just a fluke with the fireball spell. But no—over the past few days I’ve tried every basic spell I could think of, and the result was always the same: a faint spark, a tiny flicker of what it should’ve been, before crumbling into nothing right before my eyes.
The only consolation was that I could still reinforce my body with mana, boosting my physical abilities.
‘Crap, what am I going to do for next week's exams…’
By the time I dragged my gaze upward, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, leaving me in the dim silence of night. My eyes fell on the textbooks scattered across the ground. With a bitter exhale, I gave one a sharp kick, sending it skidding across the dirt.
‘Maybe I should go ask gramps and see if he can help…’
Dragging myself back toward the cabin, I caught sight of the faint light flickering through the window. Pushing the door open, I was greeted by the faint scent of herbs.
Inside, the old man sat at the table with a steaming cup of tea in his hand. His head lifted at the sound of the door, and for a moment his weathered face showed a flicker of surprise.
“You’re still here, Caelith? It’s late—you should be at home and resting, continue practicing tomorrow.” His tone was gentle at first, but then his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the defeated look dragging down my expression.
“What’s wrong, kid? Did something happen?”
“Hey, gramps…” My voice came out low, uneven. “I think there's something wrong with me. Every spell I try to cast—it comes out defective. They just fall apart before they even form.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s normal. Not everyone can conjure a spell right away, just keep practicing.”
“I’m not talking about just today, gramps!” I cut him off, the words spilling out sharper than I intended. “I can conjure some spells—but it’s like something went wrong midway through. They barely form before breaking apart. It’s not like I’m failing to channel mana—it feels more like the mana refuses to hold together.”
“Let me just show you,” I said, letting out a frustrated sigh. I extended my hands and tried to conjure a simple fireball. The flames sparked briefly, flickering weakly before sputtering out entirely.
The old man’s brow furrowed as he watched.
“That’s strange. Even if your spell power is weak, it shouldn’t just collapse like that… unless!?”
“Caelith, bring over your arm.” the old man suddenly commanded, his tone sharp but calm.
I did as he instructed, holding my arm out. He grasped my wrist gently and closed his eyes, a faint hum of energy surrounding him. His mana flowed into me, probing carefully, searching for hidden faults.
After a long moment, he opened his eyes, his expression grim with concern.
“I can’t believe it… this is the first time I’ve ever witnessed something like this…”
“Is something actually wrong with me?” I asked
He paused, studying me carefully, before finally speaking.
“Caelith… I’m sorry, but you have Mana Resonance Deficiency.”
“Huh?” My mind went blank, trying to process the weight of his words. ‘Mana Resonance Deficiency…? What does that even mean?’
“As the name suggests, it’s an extremely rare condition where the body actively rejects mana, making it nearly impossible to manipulate.” He shook his head, eyes narrowing with disbelief. “I’m actually shocked that you even managed to achieve a B rank in mana affinity on top of awakening your core.”
“In most cases, someone with this condition can’t manipulate mana at all. Luckily, you can still control mana to a limited extent—but in more severe cases, attempting magic can be fatal.”
“Is there a cure?” I asked, my voice solemn.
“Unfortunately, there is none. Caelith, are you sure you still want to attend the Academy?”
“Yes. I am,” I said without hesitation, my eyes burning with determination. I wasn’t planning to throw away my opportunity to attend Ascalon.
He let out a long sigh. “Since you’ve made your choice, know this—the path ahead won’t just be difficult. It will be brutal, merciless, and a single misstep will cost you everything.”
He let out a small, reassuring smile, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“Let’s call it a night, alright? You still have four days until the exam, so just focus on doing what you can during that time.”
I nodded and bid him goodnight, the weight on my chest heavy, as I made my way back home through the quiet streets. The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted. I lay there staring at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning, until I eventually drifted off to sleep.
When I opened my eyes, I realized I was lying in the middle of an open field, the grass swaying gently around me.
‘I was wondering where these dreams had gone…’ I thought to myself.
As my gaze swept across the field, I spotted the familiar cabin that belonged to Gramp, with the city of Eldreth rising just behind it.
‘Why’d it bring me here this time?’
I made my way toward the cabin. There, I saw the figure of the white-haired man, his face distorted. It was as if he had been waiting for me this entire time, yet, as always, he couldn’t seem to see me.
‘Just who are you?’
He remained motionless, staring off into the distance, his hair fluttering softly in the breeze. Suddenly, he picked up a sword resting next to him, the blade glinting faintly under the sun. Without a word, he began to move.
He swung with rigid precision, each motion was exact, as if the blade were an extension of a machine rather than his own body. Thrusts, parries, and spins followed one another with cold efficiency, creating a rhythm that was mesmerizing yet devoid of life.
The air around him shifted with each swing, the faint whistle of the blade cutting through the grass below him.
I watched intently, as every motion, every nuance of his technique, was being etched directly into my body.
Then, with one final, abrupt strike, he brought the blade to a halt. I remained frozen, my gaze fixed on him, expecting another move—but none came. I felt a pang of disappointment, but there was nothing I could do.
He turned his head, and by some strange chance, his gaze fell exactly where I was standing, locking onto me as if staring straight into my soul. He started to speak.
"What you're witnessing is only the beginning."
‘Just wha—’
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the scene shifted. The white-haired man vanished before my eyes, leaving me blinking and looking around, disoriented. Once again, the world began to crumble around me, the sky collapsing into itself, until darkness swallowed everything in my sight.
Just before everything went black, something flickered at the corner of my vision—but it vanished before I could focus on it.
…
I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, every muscle in my body aching as if I had just endured a grueling workout. I washed up quickly and made my way downstairs.
My sister, preparing for work, spotted me and her expression immediately softened with concern.
“You look awful, Caelith. Are you alright? You’ve been training hard these past few days—maybe you should take it easy for a bit.”
“I’m fine, sis,” I muttered, forcing a smile.
Elysia sighed, shaking her head as she prepared to leave.
“Your breakfast is ready at the table, and… just be sure to take care of yourself, alright?” she said.
Yeah, I got it. You take care too, sis.”
Back at Gramp’s cabin, I stood outside, lost in thought. My mind drifted back to the man from my dream, the cold, mechanical precision of his swordplay replaying itself over and over, refusing to leave my memory.
‘Hm? I don’t remember seeing that behind the cabin before.’
Something at the corner of my eye drew my attention.
There, half-buried in the grass, lay a rusty sword, its corroded blade catching the sunlight with a dull, muted glint.
I stepped forward and picked up the sword inspecting it. The moment it rested in my hands, it felt right—as if my body remembered this weight, as though I had held it a thousand times before.
I moved into the open, closing my eyes, the blade firm in my grasp. Recalling the movements from my dream, my body shifted on its own.
Before I realized it, the sword was already moving, as though it had never forgotten me.
