Encouragement.

Maria looked at me, waiting for my reply.

Meanwhile, I was still stunned from her sudden slap and the barrage of words that she rained on me.

After I realized I couldn't beat Viktor, I simply gave up.

Giving up was something I was long used to. Accepting failure. Telling myself that it was fine to move on—that there was always next time for everything. At some point, all of those had become a normal thing for me to believe.

In my previous life, whenever I failed everyone around me would tell me that it was fine. They would comfort me, placate me with empty words, and reassure me that I would succeed later. It wasn't meant to be, they would say. Eventually, you will find your place, they would promise me.

But she didn't do that. Instead, she told me to do my best right now. And that... that took me by surprise.

I couldn't quite put the emotions I felt into words. It would be one thing if I was angry at being slapped, guilty of being so pathetic, or resentful over not being understood. Yet it was none of those. Instead—I was hopeful. There was a part of me that wanted to believe her words.

But at the same time, my rational mind argued against that. So what if I didn't give up? If I was bound to fail anyway what would my efforts even amount to?

And so, I sat in silence as my hopes and reason battled against each other. Until that silence was interrupted by Maria.

"What? Why are you just sitting quietly? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

I hesitated as I tried to come up with a response.

"I... I just don't believe that I can. I have no idea how to improve my magic any further... I feel... I feel like I've hit my ceiling."

"How so?" Maria replied, "you relearned prolonged cast with no issues."

"B-but it took me two weeks!"

"So what? The previous time, it took you months. It just means that there are some memories that will take a while to recover."

"And that's the point! If I can't recover those memories, then I can't improve!"

But my resistance was met with firm refusal.

"No. You can improve. The same way you learned abdominal breathing from scratch, you can learn anything else. That's what you've done the entire time."

"B-but I'm no longer the same! I don't have the same experience, don't have the same mental fortitude, and don't have the same..." the same talent. That's what I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to finish my words.

In response to my hesitation, Maria replied with confidence.

"But you are the same. You proved it by learning prolonged cast again. It was also difficult, wasn't it? You struggled for two entire weeks, but in the end, you mastered it just like you did in the past. If there's a difference, is that it took you less time than previously."

She made a good point. If the reason why I received no further magical proficiency from Fabian's memories really was my talent, then would I actually be able to learn prolonged cast? But then what was the reason why I couldn't learn it from the visions? Assuming that particular piece of knowledge was an exception for some reason, that still wouldn't explain why I hadn't progressed in the past two weeks.

"I... I..."

I wasn't sure. My mind was confused, and I couldn't formulate a clear answer. 

In the past, whenever I screwed up big time, I would always fail to get back on track. Whatever I was doing became frustrating and miserable to me. The failures piled up, and the sweet progress I felt in the beginning got replaced with anxiety and exhaustion. And I felt like I reached the exact same situation right now with magic. I wanted to believe in Maria's words, but my experience told me that hope would only prolong my suffering.

Seeing how lost I was, Maria sighed. Her expression shifted from her previous sharp glare. A wistful but gentle smile blossomed on her face. She sat in front of me and spoke kindly.

"I know that it's hard for you. It's hard for me as well. But, please, listen to me. Despite your memory loss, despite our difficult situation—this is no different than how it usually is. Please, believe me."

No it is different,  I wanted to say. I am not Fabian. 

But I remained silent. I wanted to fulfill her hopes, but I wasn't him. If I was still myself—still the damned failure—then I would definitely fail to live up to her expectations. 

While I remained quiet, Maria continued speaking.

"Instead of trying to convince you... Let's see. How about I tell you a story of a certain boy? Maybe if you hear it, you will understand."

Somehow I knew. I knew that the boy in question was none other than Fabian Aes Berion, a genius heir of the Berion household. Someone who was talented in magic, was trusted by the people around him, and was famous throughout the kingdom at the young age of seventeen. I knew all about him. Maybe even more than Maria. After all, I had spent the last month collecting fragments of his memories.

She took a deep breath before she started speaking. She narrated her tale quite unusually. Instead of the normal Plevish, she told it in Spiritspeak. The story in question was, in fact, a spell.

"Deos Fatima, Deos Coria, et Deos Menid, escite oratio meus. Laes vobis triburebe, caeles canto. Simplo est requo meus."

Her voice was gentle and kind. It came out with a melodic ring and reverberated throughout the room evenly and calmly.

A feeling of warmth permeated my body, filling it from the inside. My mind started becoming clear, and a sense of serenity and peace began settling in my consciousness. It was a familiar sensation that I'd already experienced. And yet something about it felt slightly different from the previous time.

"Non ergo auxe deoseme. Instē, requo. Requo ut puteres en lengia vio meteum vōs custebunt."

Those lyrics belonged to the same spell that Maria had used a month ago, during lupens' invasion. At first glance, it was an ode to those walking the path of dreams. But in reality, it was dedicated to a single boy. Only now did I realize that fact.

If the previous time it was a grandiose, inspiring tale of an endless journey, then this one was a gentle prayer. It was permeated with love and care. With kindness and hope.

As the spell continued, visions of his past filled my mind. They were no different from the usual memories I received, but under the effects of the spell, the impression I got from them had completely changed.

"Ellī quī nītant et ellī quī sperant. Ellī quī vivent et ellī quī sadiunt. Tribite omne auxe vestrum. Quando corpī probent roboritare et quando tempī experent axelaritare. En laborīs temporīs requere. En asperīs momentīs spirite."

He aspired to become better and strove to explore magic to the best of his abilities, he lived to the fullest and walked the harsh path of life through all the trials and tribulations. At times, he was disheartened and discouraged, but he preserved through all of those hardships.

"Quaseo, elles quis sadiunt en vio meteum fovete et custite. Nam id est volar eorum qui vivent."

The spell was a heartfelt request for his safety and well being. Soothing and empowering, it was born out of desire to support and protect him. 

"Saditormeteum"

It was a love song, dedicated to the one special boy who walked the road of dreams—her Dreamwalker.

As her prayer ended, a single scene from the sea of Fabian's memories kept lingering in my mind.

In that scene, there was a boy and a girl. The boy was struggling to learn prolonged cast, and his fiancée pointed the faults in his technique. Under her guidance, he practiced wholeheartedly. It took him months, but eventually he was able to succeed.

I'd seen the same scene play out in person just a couple of weeks ago, yet the boy in the vision wasn't me. It was instead someone I considered a genius—Fabian Aes Berion. And he was struggling just like I did a couple of weeks ago.

Warm, gentle, golden glow permeated my being. It was a soothing and enveloping embrace that was kinder than anything else in the world. Watching the boy happily practice his spells made even me feel touched by his passion.

My vision became blurry. Belatedly, I realized that I was crying.

Ah... He's just... he's just like me. Even the joy he felt when he made progress, and the happiness he expressed when he understood something new. All of it seemed no different from mine.

Listening to Maria's tale, I realized that my image of Fabian was completely wrong. Because he was a genius, I imagined him as someone who confidently strolled along the path of magic. In all of the memories I saw, failures and setbacks never broke or discouraged him.

But it wasn't because he was talented or was confident in his success. He simply loved magic from the bottom of his heart. The challenges along the way were just part of the parcel for him. He faced them head-on and—regardless of the result—continued relentlessly marching forward.

Looking at his memories, as fragmented as they were, I understood something incredibly important. Him and me. We weren't that different after all. Sure, his personality was nothing like mine. He was talented in magic, dense in love matters, overly humble, and beloved by everyone around him. But the happiness he felt when he first succeeded at prolonged cast was just like mine. And seeing that made it click for me.

I love magic. 

In that sense alone, I was just like the genius boy.

I loved just how interesting and flexible the casts were. I loved how much mastery you could express even with basic spells. I loved how much depth there was to Spiritspeak. It was deeply fascinating, endlessly mysterious, and incredibly enjoyable to me. That's why I could so easily put in the effort in the past month. I was simply doing what I loved and had a great time while I was at it.

But while I was obsessing with living up to someone I didn't even fully understand, I'd lost that enjoyment. I became hounded by the expectations and pressure. I stopped looking forward to improving my magic. I demanded unreasonable results and progress, and when my expectations weren't met, that was enough for me to completely lose fate in myself.

Sure, who knows, maybe I did hit my ceiling. Sure, maybe I would lose to Viktor and screw everything up again. But was that a reason to stop trying? If it was something I hated that would be one thing, but to quit what I loved because of a single failure? 

It was such a simple truth. Something I'd wanted to understand for so long. And it was only now that I reached the answer. What I wanted wasn't an explanation of why I failed or what I should have done. And it wasn't consolation or comfort that I'd sought either.

I simply wanted a reason to keep going. To keep doing what I loved and to not let failures and setbacks to stop me.

I just wanted an encouragement. An encouragement to commit that disregarded fear of failure. To do not what my mind told me was correct, but what my heart desired so dearly.

I was dumbfounded. The answer seemed so simple and yet I felt like I would have never figured it out on my own. But it wasn't a bad feeling. 

After all, I loved magic. The same way I enjoyed performing in the drama club. And the same way I had a blast playing in a band even if I sucked. But every time, somewhere along the way, I forgot why I'd started those in the first place. Instead, I focused on the results, got frustrated when they didn't come, and lost motivation and faith in myself along the way.

And this time was the same. I forgot the enjoyment magic gave me and lost the excitement that once moved me forward. When I stagnated, my instant assumption was that I hit my ceiling. I set myself up for failure.

But I still had time to do it right. I still had time to remember my love for magic. Hell, I had nothing but time. And I wasn't talking about the week I had before the duel. More than just that—I had an entire lifetime ahead of me.

If you continued to give up just because it made sense—just because you had a logical reason to do so—you would always be stuck doing what was easier in the moment instead of doing what you loved. And if the only thing you thought about was how not to fail, then you would never learn how to actually succeed.

Finally, I felt like the void inside of my chest was finally filled. It wasn't just others' faith that I needed. In the first place, I wanted others to believe in me... all so that I could follow in their wake and also believe in myself. Believe in what I was doing.

My gaze fell on the brown notebook that still lay on the desk. Maybe it wouldn't help me in the slightest. Maybe I would still get beaten blue by Viktor. But I would try my best and get just a little bit further on my path to exploring magic. And at the end, maybe I could finally reach my goal.

Maria watched me with a gentle smile. She asked me only one thing.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yeah," I curtly replied.

That was the only thing I said as I stood up from my bed and left the room. 

There was still something I could do. There were still things I could prepare. It wasn't about desperation or delusion, and it wasn't about failure and success. It was about giving it your best, and aiming as high as you could. Sure, you would fail sometimes, but that was fine. Because along the way, I would have an absolute blast doing what I truly loved.

I needed to find Lucy and Kyle. My biggest weakness was close quarters combat, and those two could help me mitigate it.

It was time to beat Viktor's ass.