Is this a Joke?!

It’s today! It’s finally today!

My mind screamed the words as the Redcliffe mansion bustled with guests, all gathered to celebrate my fifth birthday. But to me, this day wasn’t about cake or presents—it was the day I could finally begin practicing magic.

The day I had been waiting for since the moment I was reborn into this world.

The day that would let me protect myself from ever suffering the same kind of death that dragged me here in the first place.

After all… I had no intention of dying again. Not when this world held the magic I had dreamed of all my life.

Or so I thought.

“Ugh… Father, why do I need to practice the sword? I want to learn magic!” I whined, my small hands gripping the hilt of a practice blade.

Robert Redcliffe, my father, only laughed, though there was a sharpness to his gaze that told me whining wouldn’t work. “Because, Alex, magic cannot always protect you. When it fails, your body must not. A man without strength cannot protect his family, no matter how many spells he knows.”

And, his grin widened, “your magic textbooks haven’t even arrived yet.”

And just like that, my first month as a five-year-old began not with fireballs or lightning bolts… but with relentless sword training.

Strength drills. Cardio. Core stability. Grip exercises. Slashing repetitions. Flow drills—attack, defend, counter, reset. Scenario training. Mental focus.

Every single day, Father put me through the wringer. By the end of the first week, I had already decided: I’m going to master magic so completely that I’ll never need to touch a sword again!

Of course, reality had other plans.

I tore through sword training like a man possessed, then ran to my room the moment the books were delivered. Heart racing, eyes shining, I locked the door behind me and opened the first chapter with trembling hands.

What I read left me speechless.

This world’s magic wasn’t divided by element alone. Instead, it was categorized by origin—three kinds of magic, just like the three realms of the continent:

Human Magic.

Beast Magic.

Demon Magic.

Each of these then branched into the familiar elements—fire, water, wind, lightning, earth, light, and dark.

I couldn’t help but grin. This is so different from other isekai settings! In Japan, it was always the same—basic elements, ranked by tier: novice, intermediate, advanced. Sometimes you got clever systems, like “Magical Tool Theory,” or stuff where magic wasn’t even really magic at all. But this… this feels fresh!

My excitement only grew. Human Magic—probably things like Fireball. Beast Magic—maybe monster taming or beast transformations. Demon Magic—dangerous stuff like Hellfire or, dare I hope… an EX-PLOOO-SION spell? Oh man, I can’t wait.

I devoured the first section.

And my smile faltered.

Human Magic: simple, utilitarian spells. Fire to light kindling. Water to fill buckets. Wind to dry laundry. Practical, yes—but utterly mundane. Combat potential: almost zero.

I groaned. “Seriously? This is… housework magic!”

I turned the page with renewed hope. Beast Magic had to be better.

And in some ways, it was. Elemental arrows, strength enhancements, physical augmentations. Magic designed for war. Stronger than Human Magic, but still—basic. Predictable. Boring.

One spell caught my eye: ENLIGHTEN. A Beast Light spell that allowed the user to survey and analyze battlefields. Rare, powerful, but said to be nearly impossible for anyone to master.

My heart skipped. Now that’s what I’m talking about! But if no realm has ever united under one ruler… does that mean no one’s been able to wield it?

I clung to that glimmer of hope as I flipped to the final section. Demon Magic.

At last, something unique. Spells like illusions, teleportation, and other oddities that didn’t fit neatly into combat or utility. But every ability came with harsh limitations—teleporting only yourself, or at best one other person. Powerful, yes, but… restrained.

By the time I closed the book, disappointment weighed heavy on me.

This wasn’t the awe-inspiring system of explosive battles and reality-breaking powers I had longed for. It was clunky, simple, and—dare I say it—boring.

I slammed the book shut. “Gods, is this some kind of cruel joke? You reincarnate me into a world with magic, only for it to be this… this… half-baked nonsense?!”

And then my eyes caught the title stamped on the cover: Basic Magic.

My heart leapt. Wait… BASIC magic. That means there must be advanced books! Maybe compound spells—mixing elements! Water and wind to make ice! Fire and earth to make magma! Oh, yes, this is it—!

“There is no such thing as compound or complex magic,” Father told me later when I confronted him in his study. His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Everything you need to know is in those books. Others have tried to create new spells before. Every attempt has failed.”

I froze. “…What? Then what do people even study at the academies? Don’t tell me it’s just those dull basics—”

Father’s eyes softened. “The academies teach refinement. Some students can master Human Wind Magic, Blow, but struggle with Beast Wind Magic, Gale. Teachers help them correct flaws in their technique. That is what the schools are for.”

His words crushed the last of my excitement.

That night, I lay in bed, utterly devastated. My childhood dream—magic, wondrous and limitless—reduced to practical chores and dull enhancements.

Sleep eventually took me, and in the depths of it, a voice stirred.

The same voice I had heard once before. The voice that had guided me to this world.

“Don’t lose hope, Alex. Keep learning. Keep searching. You will find your path in this world.”

I jolted awake, heart pounding. “W-who are you?!”

But the voice was gone.

Only the echo of its words lingered.

A path… hidden within this basic, boring magic? Hah. Hard to believe. But… maybe it doesn’t hurt to try.

I pulled the blankets over myself again, muttering into the dark. “Fine. If this is all I’ve got, then I’ll learn it inside and out. I’ll dig deeper until I uncover something no one else has.”

And with that promise to myself, I finally drifted into uneasy sleep.