Chapter 80

Jakob Rakan

“Eldru min innan bren thu—”

Fwoosh

“Gasp—It worked! Young master, it worked! M-my hands are on fire!”

A bright smile spread across Enette’s face.
At her fingertips, a flame slightly larger than a candle flickered into existence.

“Well done, Enette.”

Isaac praised her.

“Big brother, me too, me too!”

Not wanting to lose, Jonas ignited a flame as well.
Unlike Enette’s, his was the size of a palm.

“You did well too.”

Isaac let out a faint chuckle.

After revealing his abilities to the count, the count had set one condition in exchange for letting Isaac handle Bernsi and the marquis as he wished—
that Isaac would teach not only Enette, but Jonas as well in preparation for the tournament.

For Isaac, this was rather welcome.

“As expected, the young master is amazing.”

Enette’s expression dimmed slightly.

“Enette, Jonas has been learning magic for years. He has a good tutor, and his talent is exceptional. So there’s no need to feel discouraged. I’m here for you—you just need time.”

“But at this rate, it feels like I won’t even be able to surpass the other noble children…”

The reason Enette would participate in the magic tournament in Isaac’s place
was to eliminate the other vassals’ and branch families’ children and create a two-person rivalry between Jonas and Enette.

It was also to disguise any magic Isaac used as if it had been cast by Enette.

However, Enette had not yet formed even a single ring.
Which was only natural.

If forming rings were that easy, anyone could become a mage.

Moreover, it hadn’t even been ten days since Enette began learning magic from Isaac.
It was barely enough time to grasp even the most basic principles, let alone form rings.

Even so, she was following Isaac’s teachings better than expected.

“Don’t rush. Magic is an infinite domain. Within infinity, one step can be like a thousand, and a thousand steps can be like one. What matters isn’t speed—it’s direction. Now, try forming the spell without speaking the ancient words out loud. Say them in your mind.”

If all things in the world were a single living entity, then mana would be its nervous system.
In other words, mana allows one to feel the world of all things and manipulate parts of it.

Magic, in essence, is realizing that connection with all things and expressing one’s will.
A spell is simply a crystallized will created by someone.

Ancient language exists to articulate that will.
But one cannot rely on incantations forever.
A mage must be someone who creates their own path.

“Ugh—it’s not working. I always get stuck here.”
“Me neither…”

Jonas and Enette closed their eyes and concentrated,
but no change occurred at their fingertips.

This, too, was natural.

Casting magic without incantation meant being able to think in the ancient language itself.
Once one could think in it rather than in the common tongue, verbal chanting would no longer be necessary.

Even most ring-formed mages could cast basic spells without chanting,
but complex, multi-step magic still required drawn formulas or memorized incantations.

Isaac had long surpassed that stage—over fifty years ago.

Now, as long as his multi-circuit pathways allowed it,
he could cast magic without any incantation at all.

Because he could freely switch between thinking in the ancient language
and speaking in the common tongue.

However, Jonas was still in the process of learning the ancient language.
Enette, on the other hand, hadn’t even learned to read or write the common language yet.

As a commoner, that was only natural.

In the end, both of them were merely memorizing syllables of spells when needed.

“Most children from other families are probably at a similar level. I’ve heard that even at the Royal Academy, only a handful of prodigies can cast basic magic without chanting.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard too. Even Finn is a 2nd-class mage, but the only spell he can cast without chanting is a simple fire spell.”

Jonas nodded.
Finn was his tutor.

“That’s exactly why you two need to cast magic without chanting. That’s what will set you apart in the tournament.”

“But Finn said unless you’re a genius, mastering the ancient language could take a lifetime…”

“There’s no need to master it right now.”

“Huh? That’s okay?”

Isaac gently patted Jonas’s head as he asked with wide eyes.

“You’ll need to learn the ancient language your whole life. But we don’t have that kind of time right now—so there’s another way.”

“How?”

“Jonas, Enette. Watch carefully.”

Isaac drew two overlapping circles on a blank sheet of fiber paper.

“Now, think of these two circles as two worlds from different dimensions. The left is the Imaginary Realm, and the right is the Symbolic Realm.”

“Uh… imaginary? Symbolic?”

Both Jonas and Enette tilted their heads in confusion.

“Enette, when you first condensed mana—you entered an infinite world, right?”
“…Yes.”
“What did you see? Or hear? Did you feel anything?”
“No.”

Enette shook her head.

“You didn’t perceive anything? Nothing separate from yourself?”
“No… There was nothing. Just… infinite darkness.”

“Jonas, what about you?”
“It was similar. But instead of darkness, it felt like a blank, pure white world—completely empty.”

“The world you’re both in right now—that’s this Imaginary Realm.”

Isaac pointed to the left circle as he explained.

“In this place, there are no distinctions. The boundary between yourself and everything else is vague.
You and the entire world appear as a single infinite whole.

It feels as though you’re completely absorbed into it.

In that state, you feel no lack—
because there is no ‘self’.”

Jonas and Enette listened intently,
but their expressions were still puzzled.

They half-understood, yet didn’t.

“If you begin learning the ancient language from here, you start to understand the rules of this world.

To put it simply, it’s like gaining senses.

Through the ancient language, sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch are formed within the world of mana.

Once those senses are formed, you can perceive the world of mana—the world of all things.

The boundary between ‘yourself’ and everything else becomes clear.

Most mages spend their entire lives doing this—
gradually perceiving that infinite world in their own way.”

“…And what happens if we achieve that… perception?”

Enette raised her hand and asked carefully.

“...You come to understand your will—and become able to convey it clearly.”

Enette still looked like she didn’t understand.
Jonas wasn’t much different.

“For example, let’s say you’re trying to cast a fire spell.
But what if you don’t even know the word ‘fire’? Even if you know the word, but don’t understand its concept or meaning—”

“Then you wouldn’t be able to call it… and even if you did, there’d be no response.”
“Exactly.”

Isaac smiled at Enette’s answer.
Talking about magic was always enjoyable.
There was joy in learning—but also a different kind of joy in helping others learn.
Thanks to Jonas and Enette, Isaac was discovering that joy.

“When the world was you and you were the world, you might feel lonely, but never lacking.
Because there’s nothing to lack.

But once you realize the world is a collection of separate things, and that ‘you’ are distinct from them—
you begin to see what you lack, what you don’t have.

And that lack gives rise to desire.”

Isaac pointed to the overlapping center of the two circles, then to the right circle.

“From here on, this is the Symbolic Realm.
Those destined to become mages inevitably move from the Imaginary Realm to the Symbolic Realm.
And between them, there’s always a shared element—lack.”

“Ugh… this is hard.”

“You don’t need to understand everything. You probably can’t anyway.
What I’m trying to say is—there’s a clue here to casting magic even without knowing the ancient language.”

What Isaac was explaining was knowledge decades ahead of its time.
It was based on a theory created by a peculiar noble-born physician named Jakob Rakan.

The theory itself wasn’t the problem—
but when applied to magic, it became a completely different matter.
It was so controversial that priests and noble mages had declared his writings forbidden texts.

“Even without knowing the ancient language?”
“Yeah. You can cast magic without chanting—even without knowing it.”
“How?”

Enette’s eyes sparkled.

“Knowing the ancient language isn’t the only way to recognize lack.
Of course, if you know it, you can perceive much higher-level forms of lack.

But that’s not what we need right now.
Right now, this—your body and mind—is enough.”

Isaac chuckled softly as he looked at the two of them blinking in confusion.
To him, they were just adorable kids.

“Enette, living in Goethe means dealing with constant cold, right?”
“Yes… doing laundry in winter is really hard.”
“At that moment, what did you desperately want?”
“Something warm.”
“To be precise—what object?”
“Warm tea? A fireplace?”
“So… you needed fire?”
“Yes.”

“Then close your eyes and imagine it.
You’re shivering in the freezing winter, doing laundry.
Every gust of wind feels like it’s cutting into your skin.

At that moment, what would you wish for?
Money? Fame? Power? No.

What you’d want—right then—is a warm flame.”

“…Yes.”

With her eyes closed, Enette nodded slowly.
Her brows tightened.
As if feeling the cold again, she clenched her hands tightly.

“Hold onto that cold—and clearly imagine the flame you desire.
You don’t need to think about what ‘fire’ is in the ancient language, or how to pronounce the incantation.

Just gather mana at your fingertips, and wish for it to become the flame you long for.

But be precise—its size, its shape, the warmth you feel on your skin.”

“Mmm…”

Enette slowly opened her clenched hand.

A faint blue light gathered at her fingertips.
The light swelled softly in the air, then took on a reddish hue, flickering yet maintaining a stable form.

It was a flame.

But it was different from one created through ancient incantations.
It was far more delicate and gentle—yet carried warmth within it.

“Wow… that’s amazing.”

Jonas’s eyes widened at the flame, so different from one created by spells.
But soon, the flame lost its shape and faded away—
because Enette stopped imagining and opened her eyes.

“Did I succeed?”
“Yes. You did. How did it feel?”
“I’m not sure… it felt kind of vague.”

“If the ancient language precisely defines a target,
then emotion and imagination merely point toward it.

It’s not as efficient as fully understanding and naming something with the ancient language,
but with training, it can become just as fast and accurate.

From now on, we’ll focus on this method, Enette.”

“Yes.”

She nodded.

The reason Jakob Rakan’s writings were banned—

Knowledge of the ancient language was a privilege reserved for noble mages and clergy.
Because of that, whether called magic or divine power, it became a privilege of the upper class.

But now, a method existed to use magic without knowing it.

“…This is just the beginning.”

If Isaac were to establish a Magic Tower,
Goethe would soon be filled with mages.

His heart began to pound.

“Young master… the little master is…”

At that moment, Enette’s startled voice rang out.

Jonas had closed his eyes and was shaping mana just as Isaac had instructed.
Like Enette’s, the flame was faint and not particularly hot—
rather, it felt warm and comforting.

But what surprised both Enette and Isaac wasn’t simply that he had cast magic without chanting.

The flame had taken shape—like a sculpture.

Though not perfectly clear due to the flickering nature of fire,
it was unmistakably depicting something:

Two children sitting at a piano,
and a woman watching them from beside.

“What is this…?”
“…A memory.”

At least, Isaac recognized it.

It was the memory of two brothers playing the piano together beside their mother.