Intensive Studies

It’s been two long years since I was reincarnated, and I can finally say I’m getting used to the life of a noble heir. I wake up in silk sheets, eat extravagant meals, and live in a mansion so big that I haven’t even explored half of it. It sounds nice on paper, but honestly? It’s boring.

The biggest upside so far is that I’ve finally cracked the language of this world. The strange words that once felt like tongue-twisters now make perfect sense. Now that I understand the language, I finally figured out my name is Castiel. It feels weird—like putting on a new identity while my past self lingers in the background. But if I’m going to live this life right, I need to accept it.

Another perk of my growing body is that I can finally walk, meaning I can move freely around the mansion without needing to be carried. No more helpless baby days for me. And with that freedom comes a goal: getting into the library.

The third floor of the mansion holds a treasure trove of knowledge, locked away behind towering wooden doors. I’ve tried sneaking in multiple times, but the maids always catch me before I can even grab a book. Well, too bad for them—I’m not giving up.

I may not have a cheat skill or a system menu, but I have something just as powerful—knowledge. And if I want to succeed in this world, I need to study everything. I miss my computer, I miss the internet, where everything was just a click away. But here? If I want to learn, I have to read.

As I climb the stairs leading to the third floor, my heart skips a beat. The library doors are slightly open.

Someone must have forgotten to lock them.

I sprint forward, pushing the heavy door open just enough to slip inside.

The scent of aged parchment and polished wood greets me, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. Tall wooden bookshelves stretch toward the ceiling, lined with thousands of books. The soft glow of sunlight filters through the arched windows, casting golden rays across the dust-speckled air.

This… this is amazing.

I walk between the shelves, running my fingers along the leather-bound spines. Ten thousand books, maybe more. This might as well be the Alexandria Library of this world.

I reach for a random book, my small hands barely able to pull it from the shelf. But before I can even open it—

A tap on my shoulder.

Oh, come on. Not again.

I turn around slowly, already knowing who it is.

Standing behind me is Lina, my personal maid. Golden drill-shaped pigtails, bright blue eyes, and a maid uniform that highlights her curves. She has been taking care of me since birth—changing my diapers (which I’d rather forget) and reading me bedtime stories.

Lina folds her arms, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Young master… What are you doing here?”

I sigh. “I just want to learn how to read. Why won’t you let me stay?”

Lina raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “I’ve explained this before, haven’t I? Master Lucian doesn’t want you using the library. It houses books on magic, and an inexperienced reader could stumble upon something dangerous.”

Ah, Lucian. My father.

The man who barely acknowledged me on the day of my birth. The man who only speaks to me at mealtimes and spends the rest of his time locked away in his office. I don’t know what he does in there, and frankly? I don’t care.

But this time, I won’t back down so easily.

I shift my expression—tilting my head slightly, widening my violet eyes just enough to glisten under the sunlight. The perfect balance between innocence and desperation. The "puppy dog eyes" technique.

“Please, Lina?” I say, my voice soft, almost pleading.

Lina visibly tenses.

She bites her lip, her resolve wavering.

“Young master… You know I can’t…”

I double down. Lowering my gaze slightly, I let out a small, disappointed sigh—the finishing touch.

Lina groans, pressing her fingers against her temple. “Ugh… Fine! But just one book!”

I mentally cheer. Victory.

She scans the shelves, tapping her chin before finally plucking a book from the middle row.

“This should be fine,” she mutters, handing it to me.

I look down at the aged leather cover, the golden letters embossed elegantly.

Mysteries of the World for Noble Children
—By Gwyn Lachius.

Wait. Lachius? I think I've heard this surname before…

“Who’s the author?” I ask, blinking up at Lina.

She adjusts her sleeves and sighs. “Gwyn Lachius. Your grandfather.”

…My grandfather?

I look down at the book again, my grip tightening. So my family isn’t just nobility—we have scholars too.

Lina kneels down, smoothing out my slightly ruffled clothes. “Your grandfather was a famous alchemist and scholar. He wrote many books like this for noble children to study. Since this one is safe, I’ll allow it.”

She leans in slightly, her blue eyes softening. “But promise me something, young master.”

I tilt my head. “What?”

She smiles gently, brushing my bangs out of my face. “Promise me you won’t try anything reckless, okay?”

…Hah.

No promises.

But I nod anyway. “I promise.”

Lina seems relieved, standing up and stretching. “Alright then. Let’s get you out of here before Mara finds us.”

She picks me up, tucking the book under her arm, and walks us back toward my room.

As we move through the halls, I keep my gaze locked on the book in her hands.

My first real step toward knowledge.

And if my grandfather was a great alchemist… then maybe—just maybe—I’ll find something truly valuable in these pages.

I sit on my bed with Lina by my side, the heavy book resting between us.

Even though I’ve grasped the spoken language, reading is a different beast altogether. The script of this world is runic and complex, each letter curling into intricate shapes that look more like arcane symbols than actual words. I can pick out a few basic characters, but for anything beyond that? Yeah, I’m going to need help.

I glance up at Lina, who’s already flipping through the pages with a bright smile. “Alright, young master! Let’s start from the beginning.”

The book is packed with information—alchemy, elemental forces, even the calendar system of this world.

Unlike Earth, where the year is divided into twelve months, this world has only six: Luminare, Floraven, Ignisar, Aquorine, Umbraile, and Frigora. Each one is dedicated to one of the six great gods said to govern existence. Even the weeks follow a different pattern, with only six days instead of seven: Lunaris, Solis, Terris, Ventis, Aquis, and Ignis.

“The names represent the divine tools of creation,” Lina explains, tapping a page with her finger. “Moon, sun, earth, wind, water, and fire—the sacred elements the gods used to shape the world.”

I nod, absorbing the information. It’s fascinating, but also overwhelming. Every tiny detail, from the way time flows to the very foundation of reality, reminds me that I’m no longer in the world I once knew. I’ve been completely reset.

But then we reach a specific section—one that instantly captures my full attention.

Magic.

My fingers grip the edge of the page as Lina begins reading aloud.

To perform any spell, one must harness a unique energy known as Mana, which is produced by special cells in the body called Fluxicles.

Fluxicles? Now that’s a term I haven’t heard before.

“Every living being has Fluxicles,” Lina continues, “but the amount of Mana a person can store is determined at birth. While training can refine and strengthen one’s control over Mana, the total capacity can never exceed its natural limit.”

So… your magical potential is decided by genetics.

Great. Even in a fantasy world, life isn’t fair.

The book details the various types of magic—elemental spells, healing magic, summoning arts… But what really hooks me is how magic is activated.

There are only two methods to cast spells:

Incantations – Reciting prayers to the gods, invoking their power.

Magic Circles – A technique discovered after years of alchemical research, allowing spells to be triggered without spoken words.

Magic circles?

Lina flips to a page filled with intricate geometric patterns, each one composed of delicate lines and runes woven together in mesmerizing formations.

“These are mathematical equations,” she explains, tracing a fingertip over the symbols. “Every pattern follows a formula. Each straight line, each symbol—it all has a purpose.”

“So… you can activate magic just by charging these circles with Mana?” I ask, my curiosity spiking.

Lina nods. “Yes! Your grandfather, Gwyn Lachius, was actually one of the pioneers of this field. Thanks to his research, people no longer need to rely solely on prayers to cast spells.”

I stare at the page, my thoughts racing.

So my grandfather wasn’t just a noble—he was a revolutionary in magic research?

That changes things.

This world just became a lot more interesting.

However, magic circles never became mainstream.

Despite their potential, they’re notoriously difficult to create—too complex for the average person to use. Only scholars from magic academies and a few obsessive alchemists bother with them. The rest of the world? They stick to incantations. Praying to the gods is easier than memorizing complex equations, after all.

I frown slightly. That seems like a waste. Why rely on faith when you could have certainty?

A new curiosity ignites in my mind. "Lina, where does magic come from?"

She blinks, caught off guard by the question. Most children my age probably just accept magic as a fact of life. They wouldn’t question it. But I’m not most children.

Still, she humors me. "Well… there are many theories, but none are proven." She pauses, tilting her head in thought before continuing, "The most widely accepted belief is the religious one. They say that magic is a gift from the Primordial God—a sign of his love for humanity."

I hum thoughtfully. Makes sense. When people can’t explain something, they create stories. That’s how myths and religions are born—to give structure to the unknown.

Lina closes the book and stretches. "That’s enough reading for today, young master. It’s almost dinnertime."

But I’m not done yet. I need more. If I want to understand this world—if I want to get ahead—I need more knowledge.

I turn to Lina, putting on the most innocent, wide-eyed expression I can muster. I clasp my hands together, lower my head slightly, and add just the right amount of pout.

“Linaaa… next time, can you bring me more books? Pretty please?”

Her lips part, and I see the exact moment her resolve crumbles.

She sighs, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. "Alright, alright… I’ll try. But there aren’t many books for children your age."

Victory.

I grin, satisfied. “Thank you, Lina!”

She ruffles my hair, laughing softly. "You’re too smart for your own good, young master."

I smirk to myself as she tidies up the room, humming a tune.

Good. I’ll need all the knowledge I can get.