Chapter 115

Five Stages of Magical Development

Isaac’s unusual constitution.
An abnormally rapid surge of mana, leading to the collapse of the vessel and eventual mana explosion.
In the estate, this had instilled fear and caution among the servants.
After all, they never knew when they might be caught in an explosion and be injured—or killed.

But things were different in the Academy’s Department of Magic.

They studied the history of magic.
What kinds of mages had existed throughout history, what kinds of magic had been witnessed, and what theories and research had followed.

At the very least, to them, Zik von Goethe was a mythical figure.

Over a hundred years ago, he had burned the royal capital, contributed to the kingdom becoming a vassal state, nearly caused the destruction of his own family, and left an immense burden for future generations.
And at the same time, he was the only being—before or since—to reach the demigod-like realm of “10th Class.”

Even now, traces of him remained throughout the capital.

The repaired sections of the city walls were visibly different in color.
Some pillars and structures in the royal palace still bore scars that could not be restored.

In the Royal Academy’s library, portions of his research were preserved like treasures.
And in the Magic Tower, studies analyzing him were still ongoing.

There were even secret groups that worshipped him as a god.

More than I expected.

Standing on the podium, Isaac scratched his cheek.

The Hall of Magic was packed—not only with magic students, but professors, researchers, and even students from other departments.

At the center stood a large black marble platform.
From it, countless seats spread out in a semicircle, layered upward like an amphitheater.
It could hold hundreds—and more than half the seats were filled.

They had all come to see Isaac.

More precisely, to see the boy who carried Zik von Goethe’s blood and possessed the same peculiar constitution.

A twelve-year-old with no authority in magic giving a lecture—
that alone had drawn this crowd.

“Didn’t they say he’s twelve? He’s quite tall.”
“Looks like he can’t hide his family’s poverty.”
“Why is that girl standing up there?”

Various judgments reached Isaac’s ears.

In the north, the Goethe family was considered a distinguished magical lineage.
But not in the capital.

Goethe had no political base.
They were isolated from the capital and restrained by the royal family, leaving them with little economic power.
They had no alliances with other influential families and no presence in noble society.

The only notable marriage was the marquis marrying the daughter of a northern tribal chief—
but to most nobles, tribes were nothing more than barbarians.

To the capital’s aristocracy, Goethe was an isolated, insignificant house guarding a remote frontier.

Even as Isaac stood on the podium, the murmuring didn’t stop.
Some people glanced at him briefly and left.

From the beginning, no one had come for the lecture itself.
That was only natural.

“Well then, have you all finished staring? As you know, I am Isaac von Vinfelt Goethe. The reason I stand here today is to show you just how insignificant your level of magic really is.”

Even after he began, the crowd continued chatting among themselves.
Some ignored him entirely, even after being insulted.

But as Isaac continued speaking, the noise gradually died down.

“The imperial-style magic you struggle to learn. The so-called traditional kingdom magic you revere. And the practicality and superiority preached by those ‘great’ imperial scholars posing as professors. Let me show you how utterly pointless all those distinctions are.”

At some point, the Hall of Magic fell silent.

Is it just me, or are these stares getting sharp…

Isaac’s lecture was provocative.
No—outright provocative.

At first, most of his words were meant to provoke the audience.
The atmosphere grew colder, sharper.

Those who had been about to leave sat back down, glaring at him as if ready to kill.
Let’s see how impressive this arrogant brat’s argument is.
If we find even a small flaw, we’ll tear him apart.

Before long, the hall was filled with hostility toward Isaac.

Good. Now they’re all focused.

Isaac smirked.

Every gaze in the room was fixed on him.
Rather than nervous, he felt exhilarated.

Maybe he liked being hated.
Or perhaps he simply enjoyed teaching.

Meanwhile, the face of Marcel Reich—who had put Isaac on that podium—had darkened completely.
He had never imagined the lecture would go this way.

“So, when do we get to hear the insights of this brilliant country boy? You keep repeating the same things.”

A man seated in the front row spoke.

His voice, infused with mana, carried throughout the hall.
He wore a fine linen shirt, vest, and leather coat—his status unclear.
Too young to be a professor, yet too composed to be a student.

Speaking on behalf of the audience, he sounded irritated.

“If you’re just going to keep spouting nonsense with that country girl beside you, you’ll have to pay for wasting my time.”

Enette, standing beside Isaac like a prop, turned red as if she might burst.
She wiped cold sweat from her forehead and lowered her head, unable to handle the attention.

Just as Isaac intended.

He had accepted Marcel Reich’s request not to showcase himself—
but to imprint Enette into people’s minds.

“Don’t be too harsh. This child is my personal attendant and… well, a mage I’ve raised. She’s also a very useful assistant for today’s lecture. Due to personal reasons, I can’t perform magic myself. Now then, for those lacking patience, I’ll get to the point.”

Amid the ridicule, Isaac began his real lecture.

It was unfamiliar—
no, more than that, it felt alien.

“For the past several years, I have struggled to uncover the origin of my unique condition—. And I have come to the conclusion that there are five stages in the development of magic.”

Isaac’s theory of the Five Stages of Magical Development was as follows:

The first stage of magical development is primitive magic, originating in ancient times.

Back then, those who wielded magic held religious roles—messengers of the gods, shamans, spiritualists.
They manipulated mana through instinctive sensation.

They used sacrifices—of their own bodies or offerings—to perform magic.

At that time, even ancient language had not been formalized.
There wasn’t even a word for “magic.”

“And the second stage is the early age of magic.

This was the time when royalty and nobility began to organize magic.
Magical families started researching and recording it.
Logical structuring emerged, and the ancient language was created.
However, the ancient language was difficult and required a high level of mastery, and it was during this period that the traditions of kingdom-style magic were established.”

“And between the third and fourth stages lies the era you all live in now. The concepts of circuits and classes were created, magic became more powerful and complex, and it also became an age where implicit incantations were possible. What you commonly call imperial-style magic.”

The third stage was orthodox magic, and the fourth stage was practical magic.

“According to orthodox magic, to create a single flame requires the following incantation.”

Isaac wrote on the wooden board in front of the podium with chalk.

“Laudar mana intala estum — this calls upon the internal source of mana.
Adar paira innan bre — this imbues it with the energy of flame.
Originally, ‘adar’ is more accurately interpreted as ‘to add,’ but…”

He continued writing fluently—ancient words, their etymology, their semantic layers, and interpretations of meaning versus manifestation.

That alone drew the audience in.

Students trained primarily in imperial-style magic—and even professors—rarely studied orthodox magic in depth.
The effort required far outweighed the results.

Even those somewhat familiar with orthodox magic initially tried to find fault in Isaac’s words—
but eventually gave up and simply listened.

Just understanding him was already overwhelming.

“…and in this way, stor paira estom will produce the final flame. Simple, right? Enette, demonstrate.”

…

Without the slightest hesitation, Enette recited the incantation.

Orthodox magic would fail if even the pronunciation, interpretation, or mental image deviated slightly.
Especially in a public setting like this, it was often avoided due to the risk of failure under pressure.

“Laudar mana intala estum…”

“…stor paira estom.”

Whoosh!

Even so, Enette successfully manifested the flame.

“The implicit form of this orthodox spell becomes eldr min innan bre thu. These are polysemous words containing layered meanings—flame and ignition, operation and energy, internal and source, air and diffusion, completion and manifestation. Enette, demonstrate it again using the implicit incantation.”

Following Isaac’s instruction, Enette ignited another flame.

“You may think this method is far more efficient. However, the limitations of imperial-style magic are clear. You can only use the implicit spells derived from orthodox magic by someone else’s effort. You cannot truly modify or vary them.”

“For example, in the orthodox spell, laudar ear intala nasus calls upon the source of air. Let’s modify it like this.”

Isaac began altering the incantation on the board without hesitation.

“Enette. Try it.”

Enette recited the revised spell calmly.

Flames rose again at her fingertips—

But this time, the form was different.

The flame took the shape of a bird, and its color shifted toward a deep red.

“How much air you burn, how you shape the mental image, how much mana you condense—everything can be controlled through orthodox spells. This allows for all kinds of manipulation.”

Isaac’s lecture was nearly like a performance.

Right before their eyes, he modified and refined orthodox spells at will, transforming the same flame magic into countless variations.

“…That’s insane.”

A groan of disbelief spread among the students, while the professors fell into stunned silence.

They had been looking for a chance to crush the arrogant child—
but instead, they were being overwhelmed.

“By now, you should understand. Imperial-style magic is not superior. Nor is kingdom-style magic inferior. Imperial magic ultimately originates from orthodox magic. Without understanding orthodox magic, you are nothing more than parrots repeating the same spells. And without the intuitive perception of the primitive magic era, even the ancient language could never have come into existence.”

Isaac’s argument was clear.

It wasn’t a matter of superiority or inferiority—
it was a matter of stages.

Like building a house.
Clearing the land, laying the foundation, erecting the framework.

There is only sequence—before and after.

To argue that one is superior or inferior is no different from boasting ignorance.

Several students and professors who had blindly believed in imperial magic flushed red with anger.

They were irritated, but they could not find flaws in Isaac’s logic.
One imperial professor had already tried—and failed—to refute him.

“If imperial magic is truly superior, then demonstrate it right now. Modify a flame spell on the spot. I can do it—can you, esteemed professor?”

“…Damn it. I’m the fool for wasting time on this nonsense.”

The imperial professor could not answer Isaac’s challenge.
Unable to control his anger, he stormed out of the Hall of Magic.

From the beginning, no one had ever viewed magic development as stages or a continuous hierarchy like Isaac did.

Existing scholars treated magic as a completed discipline.
Orthodox magic and imperial magic were seen as separate systems—not connected.

It was simply assumed that one replaced the other.

A faint smile spread across Marcel Reich’s face as he watched with interest.

And then—

“Then what is the final stage?”

Someone asked.

It was the man in the front row—the same one who had mocked Isaac at the beginning.