The morning light filtered through Vel's thin curtains, casting muted patterns on the wooden floor. He stirred awake, greeted by warmth instead of chaos. No distant shouts, knocks, or cries for help—just silence. Blinking slowly, he felt heavier from yesterday's sparring session; every muscle ached, but it felt earned.
He stretched lazily, relishing the rare luxury of staying in bed. His gaze wandered to the beams above as thoughts unspooled in the quiet. It had been too long since he'd enjoyed a peaceful morning.
Rolling onto his side, he sighed. The inevitable thought arose—he had time now to consider everything ahead and where he fit in. Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs over the bed, his feet brushing cool wooden planks.
With hesitation, he raised his hand, summoning a faint shimmer that materialized into his character status. A window filled with attributes and abilities floated before him, numbers quantifying the unquantifiable.
He stared at it for several heartbeats, unease prickling at him like static. The sight reminded him too much of this world's origin—a game, artificial, crafted by another's hand.
His fingers twitched to dismiss it, but he caught himself with a clenched breath.
This isn't just numbers anymore, he thought grimly. Landre's life depended on this once... Maybe others will too.
Yet, he didn't want to see it this way—this cold, detached view devoid of reality: Mari's warm meals by the fire; Von's steady presence; Landre's laughter during their walks home despite her struggles.
His shoulders slumped briefly before squaring with resolve. If understanding this meant protecting them all, he'd face it head-on—even through gritted teeth.
He dismissed the screen but kept its details firmly in mind as he turned toward what lay ahead: the Academy, a source of knowledge and opportunity. The path was clear, but it now began in a place entirely different from what he had expected—this life redefined by those who mattered most to him.
Vel crept down the stairs, his steps soft against the old wood. The house's silence wasn't eerie, just empty of its usual activity. Mari was probably at the farm or market, Von on guard duty, and Landre—he thought with discomfort—at the church.
The aroma of cooked grains and herbs drifted through the air. A warm plate waited in the kitchen, steam still rising faintly—Mari's thoughtfulness made visible. He eased out a chair, careful to preserve the quiet.
The meal was basic: herb-flecked porridge with crusty bread. As he ate methodically, he found solace in its simplicity. Despite their changing lives, Mari still made time to care for them through food.
I need to take another look at magic, he thought suddenly, setting down his spoon halfway through his meal. The memory of failure—how unstable and unpredictable it had been when he'd tried before—still weighed on him. But so did Landre's newfound strength... If she could unlock her abilities with Shizka's light, surely he could push further too.
He rushed through his remaining meal and cleaned his plate at the basin. Grabbing his cloak, he stepped into Elnor's busy streets.
Vel wound through quiet alleys until the noise faded. He found a secluded clearing where weeds sprouted between cracked stones beneath open sky. Though close to town, it felt private enough.
Among the uneven cobbles and rustling leaves, Vel let out a slow breath.
Vel planted his feet on the uneven stones, fingers flexing. The crisp air crackled as he broke the stillness with his voice.
Status!
The command rang out forcefully, grounding him. A shimmering screen appeared, text cascading into view. He studied each line intently, as the familiar yet unsettling notification blinked above:
Admin Privileges Detected
Debug Mode Active (Restricted)
His brows furrowed at the unfamiliar message. Debug Mode? Restricted? He wondered if he'd missed it before in the chaos, or if it meant he wasn't fully integrated into this world. Perhaps something had malfunctioned during his arrival, or it just needed time.
The questions mounted unanswered.
Vel pushed aside his disquiet and noticed a blinking inventory tab. His heart jumped as he selected it.
Rows of items filled the screen, but nearly every entry displayed an ominous label: [Invalid Item] or [Pending]. A frown tugged at his lips as he scrolled through the corrupted list—so many tools now rendered useless. Still, having access to the inventory felt like progress, even if frustratingly incomplete.
His gaze flicked to another tab glowing subtly at the bottom corner: **Affinity. **It hadn't been there before, or had it.
Curiosity piqued, Vel selected it without hesitation.
Vel's gaze sharpened as the new screen flickered into existence, a strange distortion running through it. Unlike Landre's glowing attunement to Light, his chart showed nothing but static-filled blanks where affinities should've been. No elements. No alignments. Just one unsettling label across the middle:
Warning: Unable to Assigned Affinity.
"What...?" His voice cracked in the quiet clearing, confusion cutting through his thoughts like a blade. He swiped at the display, and the chart glitched—blurring momentarily before stabilizing again into something that was almost worse than nothing.
Each of the Primordial elements—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Dark, Light, Chaos—should've been neatly arranged in their respective positions on a wheel or grid. But here? Every single one displayed as [Null] instead.
The symbols flickered erratically, as if struggling to exist or fix themselves and failing. Vel's stomach churned at the sight of it all unraveling.
"This doesn't seem right." His nails dug into his palms, seeking an anchor in this strange reality. It worked against Trinon—hadn't it?
That ice lance had struck true against Trinon's twisted form in those desperate moments inside the Ossuary. If his affinity truly wasn't assigned—or worse, was entirely nullified—how could that have even happened? Questions piled on top of questions with no answers in sight.
Vel closed the Affinities tab with tense unease and opened Skills instead. Unlike the chaos before, this screen showed a clean grid—though most icons remained gray and locked. Only three spells glowed dimly among the darkened menu of inaccessible abilities.
[Ice Lance]: Zetahn Feryis Crystallum
[Slow Heal]: Lienthar Solith Revinuem
[Far Sight]: Altheris Visona
Each name pulsed faintly while countless others remained shadowed and locked away—vast potential hidden behind restrictions he didn't yet grasp.
These three spells proved something still worked inside him, despite the null status haunting his Affinities.
Vel inhaled deeply and fixed his gaze on a weathered tree standing amid the weeds. The clearing seemed to hold its breath with him. Raising his hand, fingers splayed, he focused on the spell's name and spoke the incantation in a low, measured voice.
"Zetahn Feryis Crystallum."
The words carried weight—more than sound, they resonated with purpose. The air around his arm shimmered faintly before condensing into sharp clarity. In an instant, a jagged spear of ice materialized, shooting forward with precision and slamming into the tree's trunk. It embedded itself with a satisfying crack, shards splintering outward like fragile glass.
Vel exhaled in relief but stiffened as a faint glow encircled his arm. He stared, mouth agape, as an intricate magic circle spun around his forearm before vanishing.
"That's…new?" The Ossuary had been dark—chaotic even—and he'd been too frantic to notice anything beyond survival. But here in the morning light, the runes etched into the circle were undeniable: lines intersecting like constellations, their faint glow whispering of ancient knowledge.
He flexed his fingers and checked his other hand for lingering magic, but found only stillness in the clearing.
The mana drain felt subtle—just a slight lightness. His spells worked despite the earlier Affinity chart glitch.
A theory sparked in his mind. If spells needed specific incantations, what would happen if he altered them? Combined elements?
It seemed worth testing.
Vel straightened and steadied himself once more, recalling the structure of Ice Lance while mentally borrowing from Far Sight. He pieced them together carefully, speaking aloud with cautious deliberation:
"Altheris Zetahn Feryis Crystallum."
His voice echoed through the clearing, but no energy shimmered at his fingertips, no ice materialized. Only silence answered.
His brow furrowed with brief disappointment—this wouldn't work so simply.
Vel clenched his fists, frustration prickling at the edge of his mind. He paced a few steps back and forth, the cobblestones beneath his feet uneven but grounding. The failed incantation replayed in his head like an off-key melody, mocking him with its silence.
"Maybe the order's wrong," he murmured to himself, staring at his hands as if they held the answer. His fingers twitched slightly before he steadied them and tried again.
"Crystallum Altheris Zetahn Feryis."
Nothing.
"Feryis Crystallum Altheris Zetahn."
Still nothing.
The clearing remained unimpressed by his attempts, its stillness broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. Vel exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.
"Of course it's not that simple," he muttered bitterly. He knew better—he designed this system once upon a time, didn't he? If spellcraft were this malleable, any novice could string together words like beads on a necklace and conjure miracles without effort. That wasn't how it worked—not in Aeonalus Primordial.
His gaze returned to the dimming display before him, mirroring his fatigue. If this world had manifested his design in full detail, then understanding those details was crucial.
Vel's fingers lingered above the display as he glared at the three known spells, their names taunting him with their simplicity.
His eyes narrowed at the pulsing blue Ice Lance icon. "Why am I stuck here?" he muttered, selecting the spell reflexively.
The display zoomed in smoothly, showing the incantation—Zetahn Feryis Crystallum—below. Vel frowned. He'd seen this in the Ossuary before, but it hadn't revealed anything then.
As he leaned closer, he noticed something new—a small Spell Details label tucked beneath the incantation.
Vel's pulse quickened. He definitely missed this last time? Whatever the case, he wasn't about to ignore it now.
His hand hovered over the label for only a moment before selecting it.
The interface transformed into an intricate circular diagram, its interconnected sigils and lines pulsing like living veins.
Vel's breath caught as he studied the display. What first seemed chaotic revealed underlying patterns the longer he looked.
These weren't random markings; they were structured—organized into what seemed like modules connected by flowing currents of energy. No... not just energy... mana flow.
"Modules..." Vel whispered aloud, awe creeping into his voice despite himself. "And this... is how mana moves through them."
Excitement bubbled up unbidden as realization struck him fully—this wasn't just a spell; this was its blueprint!
Vel's fingers trembled as he toggled back to the spell menu, switching from Ice Lance to Slow Heal. The diagram transformed seamlessly before his eyes, the intricate web of sigils and mana flow now displaying an entirely different configuration. He leaned closer, his excitement building.
The differences were immediate. While Ice Lance had sharp, angular sigils with tightly packed connections radiating outward, Slow Heal was fluid and organic—its pathways curved gently, almost like the veins of a leaf. He noticed that some modules shared similar shapes between the two spells but were placed differently or connected in distinct ways.
"So it's modular..." Vel muttered under his breath, a grin tugging at his lips. His gaze darted between the two diagrams as he flipped back and forth between spells, committing patterns to memory. Each spell seemed to have its own unique blueprint, yet there was a clear logic underlying their construction.
Switching to Far Sight, Vel's excitement only grew. This spell's design was sparse compared to the others—few modules, with wide gaps in between—but it had longer connections that spiraled outward in almost hypnotic patterns. He noted how this one required less mana flow overall; perhaps that explained its simplicity compared to combat spells.
Vel toggled back to Ice Lance, feeling a surge of determination. If this was truly a blueprint... could he change it?
He reached out mentally toward one of the angular sigils near the center of the diagram. With a thought, he nudged it slightly—and gasped as the entire diagram shifted in response. The lines connecting the sigil stretched and reformed automatically, adjusting themselves around his alteration like water finding new paths around stones.
But then—snap! One of the connections broke entirely, leaving an empty space where mana had once flowed freely. A small alert popped up in glowing red text:
[Error: Not enough division – Create more module space]
Vel frowned but couldn't suppress his intrigue. He reached for another sigil near the edge this time and moved it cautiously inward. This time, instead of snapping connections, new ones formed automatically—creating an entirely fresh configuration in the process.
"It adjusts itself," Vel murmured in awe, watching as the system recalibrated around his changes. But as fascinating as this was, it came with limits: too many adjustments led to overloads or snapped connections altogether.
Another detail caught his eye on the side panel: two icons—Air and Water—glowing faintly next to a small label reading Multiplier x2 (200%). It clicked immediately: these represented spirits invoked by Ice Lance.
Vel's mind raced as he analyzed the diagram. The Air sigil and Water sigil—each representing their respective spirits—clicked together in his understanding. Air for pressure and temperature reduction, propelling the ice forward. Water for condensing moisture into a solid, sharp form. It was perfect. This was his magic system, alive in ways he hadn't imagined back in development.
He leaned closer to the display, tracing the mana flow with his eyes. The lines branching from each sigil weren't random—they routed energy with purpose, optimizing efficiency like well-designed circuit board. Yet, it felt organic too, as if the system breathed along with him.
"If I add Far Sight's entire structure," Vel muttered to himself, "there won't be enough space for everything else." His fingers hovered over the diagram, hesitant yet eager. A different idea sparked.
With deliberate precision, Vel nudged the Air sigil slightly out of its current position. The lines connected to it stretched and reformed smoothly, leaving a small gap between Air and Water. Perfect.
He drew a new sigil in the gap—copied from Far Sight's blueprint. A delicate swirl with intersecting arcs materialized. The system responded instantly.
The mana flow shuddered, some connections reforming while others snapped violently with a harsh crack.
An alert blinked:
[Error: Connection Broken].
Vel groaned but persisted, adjusting the sigil's placement between Air and Water. Each attempt triggered errors and overloads, forcing him to reconsider.
But finally—finally—it worked.
The lines stabilized into place as though sighing in relief. The new sigil pulsed faintly in harmony with its neighbors—a seamless addition that now bridged Air and Water with a newfound elegance.
A soft chime interrupted his thoughts as text unfurled across the display:
[New Spell Variant Created – Ice Lance: Sniper]
[Generating new incantation...]
Vel's lips curled into an uncontrollable grin, triumph surging through him like adrenaline. "Yes!" He clenched his fists in excitement, feeling like a programmer who had just debugged an infuriating issue after hours of trial and error.
Vel's eyes darted back to the diagram. The newly added element—Light—gleamed faintly, its icon a soft golden glow alongside Water and Air. Below, the updated stats of his variant spell displayed clearly:
[Ice Lance: Sniper]
Processing Spirits: Water, Air, LightMP Cost Multiplier: x3Incantation: "Lumino Zetahn Feryis Crystallum."
Light... makes sense. He nodded slowly. The inclusion of Light explained the added precision and range. Its essence enhanced clarity, almost like honing a blade with divine focus. Vel tightened his grip, feeling the slight warmth that coursed through his fingertips as anticipation built.
His gaze shifted to the Ice Lance icon, now marked with a glowing "+". Vel tapped it mentally, revealing a dropdown of all variants—from base to his new Sniper version.
"Convenient," he murmured.
His focus shifted from the interface as he scanned for a target. His eyes found one—a banner flag fluttering on Elnor's southern wall, rippling against the blue sky. Perfect.
Vel adjusted his stance slightly, raising one hand toward the banner while steadying himself with a deep inhale.
"Lumino Zetahn Feryis Crystallum," he intoned clearly.
The words carried weight yet again—but this time with an additional resonance that sent tingles up his arm. Mana coalesced rapidly into a lance far sharper and more defined than before. It spun in place briefly before launching forward with astonishing speed.
The lance whistled through the air like a comet's tail and struck true. The force tore through the banner cleanly, leaving behind a smoldering hole as fragments of fabric fluttered downward lazily.
Vel grinned wide—triumphant—but only for a moment.
A crushing wave struck, invisible hands draining his energy in an instant. He staggered back as warnings flashed across his sight:
[Warning: Overcasting Detected! Lifeforce Endangered]
His breath hitched painfully as another message immediately followed:
[Admin Status Detected! Switching to Fail-safe]
Then came the final blow:
[Entering Slumber Mode]
"Slumber mode?" Vel whispered as his knees gave out. Recognition hit with a surge of panic—this was exactly like the Ossuary when his HP reached zero.
The world spun and darkened as he crumpled to the ground, blacking out.
The soft rustle of grass accompanied a distant voice that grew sharper with every repetition.
"Vel! Vel!"
Vel squinted into the blinding sun as his eyes opened. His mind and limbs felt leaden. A familiar figure stood over him, hands on hips.
"Vel! What are you doing sprawling out here like some lost sheep?"
He blinked until her golden braid came into focus. "Lan-neechan?" His hoarse voice cracked as he sat up with a wince. "Why are you here?"
Landre knelt beside him, her face both irritated and concerned, and brushed dirt from his shoulder with quick strokes.
"I could ask you the same thing! I was on my way back from the church and found you passed out like this!" Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What happened? Did you faint or something?"
Vel paused, studying his hands as he remembered the flood of errors that had overwhelmed him. His lips curled into a smirk at a sudden thought.
"Well," he started with mock seriousness, "you've got your shiny Light magic. I've apparently unlocked the amazing ability to... sleep on the ground."
Landre blinked at him for a moment before letting out an exasperated laugh despite herself. She shook her head, but her lips twitched upward briefly.
"Really... You can be so ridiculous sometimes" she murmured quietly as she got up and extended her hand toward him.
Vel accepted her help gratefully, though his knees wobbled as he stood. "Hey, falling asleep instantly is a rare talent," he said, noting how composed she seemed compared to earlier. Still, he sensed an underlying stiffness—anxiety she was trying to hide.
"You seem... busy today," Vel remarked casually while dusting off his tunic. "Church stuff keeping you occupied?"
Landre's smile wavered slightly before she waved it off. "Oh, nothing too important yet." Her tone was forced as she avoided his gaze. "Father Oswin just gave me some things to consider... but nothing I can act on right away."
Vel's mind drifted back to the moments before he had collapsed. The rush of power, the spiraling cascade of mana through his veins—it had been exhilarating but terrifying. He clenched his fists as fragments of the system's warnings replayed in his head. Overcasting wasn't just a buzzword or flashy status effect; it was a brutal reminder that this world's magic was far more intricate than anything he'd coded back in Aeonalus.
Magic here wasn't merely incantations spoken with flair. No, it was systems layered with precision: threads of mana acting like executable code, spirits processing variables and modules, every component demanding optimization.
He could create entirely new spells if he wanted to; that much was clear. But the glaring risk was impossible to ignore. Overloading them meant losing control of the flow, burning through his reserves, and possibly... dying outright.
Vel's gaze fell to his trembling hands, a reminder of earlier strain. If he wanted to grow stronger, he needed a larger MP pool and better mana flow optimization. Efficiency, not just raw power, was essential for his survival and growth.
And there was only one place where he might achieve both: the Academy.
"Vel?" Landre's voice cut through his thoughts, both impatient and concerned.
He blinked, finding her staring with that signature raised eyebrow of mild annoyance.
"So are we going back home or not?" she asked, arms crossed.
"Yeah," he replied, brushing grass from his knees.
They started home together, their footsteps crunching against dirt and leaves in the silence.