Lysander Blakesty.
The cold, sadistic and ruthless villain in the novel Ways of the Mystic.
Upon hearing that name, I looked back at the couple in front of me, and could finally conclude who they are—and the world that I had transmigrated to.
Still holding the teddy bear arm with my right hand, I looked at the woman in front of me—who continued to wear that same warm and delicate smile across her face.
Pure white hair akin to snow, light-hazel eyes, and supple rose skin that complimented her beauty. The only character that fits her description is Isabella Blakesty: the late mother of Lysander and Seraphina, and the only wife of Duke Blakesty.
She's a kind, caring and lovely woman who was cast aside from her former household due to her weak constitution, despite being the oldest to inherit, because of her frail body that was unfit for swordsmanship.
In this novel, gender is never a concept of debate. Both male and female could hold titles, work any sort of jobs, and even work in the army. Not only that, but they both also had equal rights in power and politics.
So ever since she was young, she would always train her swordsmanship to be the perfect heir for her father: Count Orestilla Avington.
Her household was a renowned knight family, where the sword meant everything—even one's fate in the family. She was always forced to learn everything to be the perfect heir. From mathematics and history, to politics and combat. But her weak body couldn't hold on to these strict regiments, and she eventually collapsed.
The Count was in anguish. He was so disappointed that his only child couldn't even meet his harsh expectations.
And so he was determined to bring in a new heir, which led to the birth of her younger brother, Zaire Avington.
Zaire had become a child that could easily master any concepts with ease, and had more potential in swordsmanship than Isabella could ever hope for.
The Count was finally pleased to find an heir that could succeed the household. From that point on, all expectations for Isabella were eliminated.
As time passed by, she was cast in the darkness of her home—where no one even dared to pay attention to her.
Where no one even knew that she existed… except her younger brother.
But despite the harsh treatment, she continued to try and be a worthy heir for the Count.
"The first child of the household has the right to inherit the title."
Knowing this, she continued on with her perseverance. Even when her body was on the brink of collapse, she continued to train her body to the limit.
Even after training so hard, she soon realized she had more talent for not the sword, but magic. But despite being adept with magic, the Count continued to favor the young boy—who was soon considered a prodigy with the sword—to be his successor.
But she didn't give up.
She wished to become someone worthy to become the successor. With the same diligence and perseverance, she became a student of the Imperial Head Mage Marcus, the strongest mage in the Empire.
But after finally being a student of the top mage, she slowly began to learn about some things.
"... Not everything in life is so I can become a better successor for the House."
Her way of thinking slowly shifted. From trying to become someone worthy of the household, to being someone who can use her power to help the world.
From being someone who wished to be acknowledged by her cold father, to seeing her teacher as a true father figure she never had.
Through her long journey, she finally found a friend she could trust, Elena—the royal princess who was chosen to inherit the title of Empress.
Being taught by the same teacher, they slowly became inseparable. To her, she was a sister that she never had.
At the age of sixteen, children of noble descent are given the liberty—with the parents permission—to enter the battlefield in order to gain experience, or glory.
But on her father's order, Isabella was forcefully sent into battle once she became of age.
Upon hearing these words, she knew what this meant.
He wanted her gone.
Nevertheless, she abided by his decision—not knowing the cruelty of war—so she could finally prove to her father her true worth, and be free.
But once she entered the battlefield, she finally witnessed the horror of war.
Facing countless enemies with your life always on the line, smelling the blood of both allies and foes all over, and seeing many severed limbs and grotesque scenes all around. It was an undeniable nightmare for her. But even then, she carried on, and suffered so many injuries using both her magic and unrefined swordsmanship to survive.
Unfortunately, Isabella could not hope to survive in this cruel battle with her weak body. She used up every ounce of her mana, and had no more stamina left.
But the battlefield doesn't care about one's well being.
It's survival of the fittest.
Only the strong remain, while the weak perish.
As an enemy was this close to slashing her, she quickly closed her eyes with fear—hoping for someone to save her in this dire moment. But not feeling the slash of the sword, she slowly opened her eyes.
That's when she finally met the man standing next to him: Laurence Blakesty.
Laurence cruelly stabbed the enemy, and flung the corpse away before glaring at Isabella.
Despite the blood splattered all over his face and armor, she could only stare at his dead eyes.
Pure red just like the background all around them.
Even though he's just one year older than her, he already earned a title on the battlefield: The Duke of Blood
At such a young age, he already became a Duke.
But there were countless dark rumors surrounding him—saying that he kills his enemies cruelly, and enjoys their suffering with a smile on his face as they cry out their last breath
At that moment in the battlefield, Laurence pointed his sword towards her throat, and spoke to her in a cold whisper with his dead eyes.
"... Who are you?"
Laurence asked the weakened person in front of him the question to try and sustain the little bit of sanity he has left.
The more Isabella looked at him, the more she saw him the more she could clearly see many stab wounds and slashes all over his body.
How could a human remain calm, much less standing, with that many injuries?
Finally gazing back at his face, she saw the many emotions behind his dead and empty eyes.
The same loneliness... and despair that she once experienced in the past could be seen in the eyes of the person in front of her, but much more severe.
She slowly reached out to him, and gently placed her bloody hand on his cheek—gazing deeply into his eyes with the same loneliness and despair that is hidden deep inside him.
She couldn't help but try and sympathize with the man that may or may not kill her.
"... I'm just a nobody. Someone who was just forced into this battlefield, just like you."
His eyes widened once she whispered out those painful words. He violently shook his sword before letting it drop to the ground.
The more he thinks about her words, the bigger the scar it formed on his heart.
He painfully closed his dead eyes, fell to his knees, and rested his head on Isabella's shoulder—finally getting the peaceful sleep he was never able to get.
At that moment, their love blossomed...
The relationship between these two people was talked about between Seraphina and the Prince in the novel—mainly through written scriptures they managed to find, or through rumors. So I do know a little about these people's past.
But it's quite amazing seeing people who were only in fiction standing in front of me. Their physical features that were always described on the pages of the book couldn't even replicate their true beauties.
The door slowly creaked open before a middle-aged butler stepped inside the room.
After the man and woman turned around, the butler respectfully bowed down before speaking.
"Your Grace, the carriage is ready."
The man stroked his chin—contemplating last night's event—before gazing back at the butler with slightly worried eyes.
"Put the soldiers on standby. We can't risk anything happening."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The butler soon exited the room.
The man then looked back at the woman before he gently placed his hand on her shoulder—his eyes softening and showing the same worried look as before.
"Do you want to rest for a bit before we depart? Your body still needs to recover..."
The woman continued to smile at me, slowly pulling her hand back before shaking her head.
"I'm fine. I'm just worried about what the doctor said. If what she said is true... then we need to go to the Imperial Palace as soon as possible."
I felt my eyelids forcefully close once again. Being an infant child is so… burdensome. Nevertheless, I clinged tighter to the stuffed bear next to me.
"It feels so soft... I want to hold onto it more."
Soon the baby fell asleep once again without any worries.
The man sighed, but accepted her decision before quietly calling out for the maids who were waiting outside the door.
They quietly, but quickly, entered the room with selections of clothes, jewelry, accessories, and other daily necessities for the body, and face, for the woman and the child
The maids quickly began to tend them, while the man subtly smiled before quietly leaving the room to also get ready.
Many maids combed the silky-white hair of the woman, while the others began to select which dress and accessories are right for her to wear.
Other maids also began to carefully change the sleeping baby into some baby-blue undergarments, and put a pacifier on his mouth before they gently placed him in a pram.
Finally, the woman finished her preparations. Wearing a sky-blue gown, with her arms being covered by long sleeves that were loose around her forearm—yet tight under her wrist—she slowly looked up into the mirror on the desk, and saw her silky-white hair tied up beautifully.
All the maids around the room admired her astounding beauty before they followed her diligently as she headed towards the entrance of the mansion.
Upon going down the luxurious carpeted stairs, she saw the familiar man waiting for her near the end of the stairs.
With his hair pulled back and styled, the woman then gazed at his midnight-blue ceremonial coat uniform and trouser, and underneath the coat he wore a white buttoned blouse, and white gloves.
As the woman stepped towards the last tile of the stairs, the man gently offered his hand for her to take and slightly bowed. Seeing him act so affectionately, the woman couldn't help but let out a warm smile before accepting his gesture.
Holding each other's hand, they began to walk towards the carriage.
Everyone was mesmerized by their beauty as they continued to walk. It was just like the late night snow falling down in winter.
Cold, but nevertheless beautiful.
Guards awaited outside the door—lined up in position—and guided the couple towards the carriage.
After the beautiful couple entered the carriage, a maid with long curly-brown hair, green eyes and rose skin carefully strolled the baby in a pram. Once near the carriage entrance, she gently picked up the baby, and entered the carriage before slowly placing the baby in the cradle next to the woman without waking him up.
She wiped the sweat off her forehead and quickly got out of the carriage before bowing down to the couple.
The woman let out a small chuckle. "Thank you, Mia. I'm sorry for troubling you."
The brown-haired maid named Mia quickly raised her head, her eyes sparkling with joy before she shook her head.
"It was no trouble at all, Your Grace!"
The woman closed her eyes, and smiled warmly at her before the carriage doors closed.
Soon, the carriage began to move, and everyone who was outside bowed as the carriage was leaving the mansion.
Mia then slowly raised her head. From the carriage's window, she saw the woman happily waving goodbye to her.
Seeing that, Mia couldn't help but smile so brightly before waving back.
As the carriage finally left the gate of the mansion, the man slowly smiled at the woman who was still waving goodbye.
"... You have quite the bond with the workers." He looked out the window, and gazed at the moving world outside. "It's not normal for a maid to talk to their employers in such a friendly tone."
The woman gently closed her eyes, and let out a warm hum at his words before opening her eyes to the world outside the window.
"She's quite a cute child."
The man slowly smiled back—trying so hard to imitate the same warm smile. "I just find it fascinating that you can easily befriend all the residents in the manor in such a short time. It's only been a year since we moved into the manor after all."
She slowly looked back at him, and let out a playful smirk. "Do you also want to befriend the residents?"
Hearing that, the man looked away bashfully, and stayed silent for a bit before answering. "... Well, isn't it good to befriend the people you see every day?"
She then thought for a bit. Although it was just recently that they settled in the manor, she's already heard some gossip of him being a cold and ruthless Duke between the maids and workers.
"Are you having some difficulties befriending them?"
He quickly looked back at her. "No!"
"..."
"... I don't think so?"
"..."
He embarrassedly closed his eyes, and faced the other away. "... It's quite difficult. Every time I try to make small talk with them, they look at me with utter fear."
"I see..." She sighed with a smile before looking back at her sleeping child. "One step at a time. These are the people who will stick with us in the future. Befriending them is no easy task... Just be simple and mindful. Soon, everyone will realize who you really are."
"... You say that, but haven't you already gotten on everyone's good side?"
"That's beside the point."
"?!"
"Just take your time, no need to rush things."
The woman continued to look happily at her child. After a second of peaceful quiet, she closed her eyes and hummed out a beautiful tune—even when her husband sat there gloomily.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
I suddenly woke up after feeling my whole body shake over and over again. Slowly opening my eyes, I then gazed around my limited field of vision before noting that I was being strolled in a pram by the man named Laurence, with the woman named Isabella walking right beside him.
My attention was soon drawn to the tall and sturdy gates neatly carved out with small, delicate details.
The palace door creaked open, and exposed a large pathway lined with beautiful, blooming trees—with their branches freely spreading all over the space.
As we continued to walk down the pathway, I then saw a grand archway rising majestically towards the sky.
Beyond the archway lies the courtyard—so spacious, and paved with smooth stone. A fountain stood at its center, with its waters shimmering under the sunlight before they hit the bottom. Around it, a field of gardens bloomed beautifully with colorful flowers, their sweet fragrance all mingling together in the air.
Soon, we reached the chamber room. Both the man and woman closed their eyes, and took a deep breath before fixing their postures to look serious and regal.
Judging from how serious their expressions have become—and how opulent the palace and decorations are—we must be meeting the Imperial Family.
The same grand doors in front of us quietly swung open. They took a second before strolling me inside the main chamber with them.
Once again, I looked around with my limited view, and saw so many paintings decorating the palace walls, while the soft glow of candlelight from the golden chandelier above flickers on its own, silent tempo.
At last, we reach the center of the large room. I then saw a woman who seemed to be the Empress sat upon her throne—looking so elegant and poised—while the Emperor, with a smaller throne, sat right beside her.
The man and woman exchange polite pleasantries with the Empress and Emperor.
After a second of eerie silence, the Empress dismisses all but one attendant with a simple nod.
Her sapphire eyes, that were once cold, slowly softened once all the attendants left the room. She gently moved her head down to the couple, letting her soft tendrils of chestnut hair that framed her face move with the natural breeze.
After looking at the woman named Isabella, a subtle smile emerged from her lips.
Beside her, the Emperor continued to stand there dignified—his expression cold, yet regal. His hazel eyes shifted between the man and the woman. He stroked his neatly trimmed beard that was the same color as his midnight-colored hair, and contemplated for a bit before sighing.
"... This situation is beyond me. The only thing I can do right now is just observe all that happens."
But not even a second after I said that, the Empress suddenly looked at me. Our eyes connected for a long moment before she let out the same subtle smile as before.
"I see... so this is what you were talking about in your letter." The empress then snapped her finger. "Please bring in the Royal Head Mage for me."
The attendant next to her quickly bowed. "Yes, your Majesty!"
After the attendant left in a hurry, the atmosphere suddenly lit up, and the Empress's subtle smile turned so blissful.
"Congratulations on the birth of your child."
Both the man and woman bowed down respectfully. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
The Empress let out a sigh, and waved her hand nonchalantly at their formal tone and expression. "The pleasantries are not needed. Haven't we known each other way before my coronation?"
The woman just smiled warmly. "This is a formal occasion, Your Majesty. I need to abide by the proper etiquettes."
The Empress pouted while the Emperor besides her just remained silent.
After a few seconds of silence, the Emperor got up from his throne, and walked away. The Empress shrugged apathetically, while both the man and woman watched him from the corner of their eyes.
The door then slammed shut, and soon the couple lifted their heads up and looked up the Empress once more.
"Your Majesty," said the man. "I know this might be too much to ask… but can I ask you for a favor?"
The Empress' eyes slowly shimmered with curiosity. "HoHo? A favor between friends is no problem. If it isn't something grand, then I'm more than willing to comply with your favor."
The man then looked at me for a long second, before bitterly gazing back at the Empress. "... Whatever the results might be, can you at least prevent outsiders from approaching us in the future?"
The Empress's eye shimmered—already knowing the meanings behind his words. But without saying it out loud, she just continued to smile.
"I see…" She quickly taped her finger alongside the handle of her throne. She then looked deep into the man's, as if their eyes alone were saying words.
After a few fleeting moments, the Empress laid her head on top of her knuckle before nodding
"I'll try and see what I can do."
"Thank you—"
But just as the man was about to finish his sentence, a heavy pressure suddenly emerged from the door, catching everyone's attention.
"... It seems that he's already here. Shall continue this conversation later?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The grand doors of the throne room opened once more, revealing an aged man with immense status: The Royal Head Mage—the one who has reached the pinnacle of magical authority in the Izora Empire.
Tall and imposing, yet he made sure to carry himself with grace. His large gray beard reached down his chest, contradicting his short messy hair.
Finally approaching the throne, the Head Mage respectfully bowed down before the seated Empress. At this moment, his sole presence made everyone around him on edge.
"The fog around him... It's so powerful, yet so warm..."
The mage slowly lifted his head up, and looked happily at the Empress. "I give my greetings to Her Majesty, the Empress."
The empress sighed. "Don't act like this you senile old man. You aren't this nice whenever we meet."
The Mage playfully tilted his head before stroking his beard. "Hohoho! We're in front of guests right now, so of course I need to show modesty."
The mage then looked at us. "It's been a while, Laurence, Isabella"
Both the man and woman nodded their heads. "It's been a while, Head Mage Marcus."
The Mage laughed out loud. "No need to be so formal." He then looks at me with a smile. "You even have a child now." He then strokes his beard once more. "My, My... Just how time flies when you grow old."
The Mage then looked back at me, his eyes slightly glowing. "So regarding your son… I suspect you want me to analyze whether he really has the blessing or not."
The man calmly responded. "Yes, that is right."
The Mage stroked his beard once more before he began walking towards me with small, yet powerful, steps.
Suddenly, an insignia appeared right above him. It looked like the drawing of a wooden staff wrapped around with strands of leaves.
"Many stories have unfolded about the five Gods. The God of Magic, Arcanor."
Another insignia appeared, showing the image of a flaming sword being held by a long-haired woman. "The Goddess of Swords, Valora."
His once closed eyes then opened and changed into a purple flame color.
Soon a new insignia appeared, showing the image of an angel hugging a large orb with their head, arms, and wings.
"The Goddess of Life, Elysia."
Everyone began to feel the heavy pressure around as their heads were forced to look down—almost keeling to the floor in the process
But for some reason, I feel completely fine...
A new insignia appeared once again, showing the image of someone's hand stretched out into the air, overfilled and spilling a liquid, red substance.
"The God of Death, Mortanis."
The aged man now stood before me with both his hands behind him, and just looked at me with a warm smile. An insignia of a massive tree then appeared.
"And finally, the God of the spirits, Astraeus."
He hovered his hand on me before looking back at everyone—who were now able to lift their heads back up.
"My apologies. The magic requires an extraordinary amount of mana and preparations. I thought of using the mana gathered to showcase a light tale."
The Empress smiled with a cold sweat on her face. "What monstrous mana manipulation do you have for you to say that..."
The woman suddenly covered her mouth with nausea. Seeing her like that, the man quickly went to her aid before gazing at the aged man with piercing eyes.
"... Are you sure this is safe?"
Still hovering his hands on me, he let out a small chuckle before replying. "Don't worry, it isn't dangerous. This magic has been handed down from generations of Head Mages for whenever a time comes such as this."
He then looked back at me. Soon, his hovering hands were covered by a light-purple mist. "A simple magic such as Analyze cannot see through the God's blessing. That is why this magic was created to identify them specifically."
All the insignia suddenly lined up together, merged into one, and deconstructed before my eyes before fragmenting into so many little particles. Those same particles then began making their way towards the aged man's hand.
The purple light then engulfed me, and my whole body began to feel so warm.
After a few moments, a wave of mana soon burst out, and an insignia of the wooden staff stood right above me.
"... Indeed, he has the Blessing of the Mana."
He then glanced at the Empress—stroking his beard with his eyes closed in the process, before showing a serious expression.
The Empress nervously tapped her fingers on the throne. "... I see, then this means only one thing."
The Mage slowly opened his eyes and nodded. "A great omen of disaster will come about in the future—just like the one mentioned in the prophecy."
The empress let out a sigh before responding to the Mage's words.
"A time will come when the Gods will give their blessing to five beings... all for the sake of saving the world from disaster..."
She then gazes at the Mage. "That old prophecy?"
The Mage hesitantly nodded before looking at the couple once again. "Your child is special indeed. Not only is his aptitude in magic high, but I also suspect that he has a large quantity of mana."
His eyes then shifted to me. "A mana pool so vast and wide... that not even I can fathom its limit."
The couple's expression soon turned surprised. After a moment, the woman placed her shaking hands on her chest before subtly raising her voice.
"Does that mean..."
The Mage tried his very best to look happy—not wanting to worry her. "He will surely become a mage that will change the world. Even among those with the Blessing of the Mana, never have I read about them close to an infinite amount of mana."
Hearing those words, the woman squeezed her hand, and slowly began walking towards me—her face filled with utter sadness. Once she stood before me, she gently caressed my cheek before stopping.
"Can't he live a normal life…?"
"... I'm afraid that will be difficult."
"I see..."
Her hand quivered once again, while tears began to form underneath her eyes.
"I don't want people to cry about me anymore..."
I stretched out my little hands—hoping to try and comfort the woman in front of me who is now my mother. Shortly after, my face smiled with so much happiness. I'm still unable to control this body freely, but even then...
It ended up working out.
Seeing my bright smile, her complexion softened. Reciprocating the same smile to me—with a small hint of sadness in between—she then touched my little hands once again.
"I see... I suppose it is inevitable."
She gently let go of my hand, and looked back at the aged man with a serious expression. "If fate has already been predetermined, then it cannot be helped."
The man walked towards, and stood besides her with the same determined face.
Seeing him, the woman couldn't help but feel more determined. "If my child has to carry the weight of the world because of this prophecy, then I should do all that I can to help him—as a mother."
Saying those words, the man gently then held her hand, and nodded with everything she had said.
The woman closed her eyes, squeezed his hand, and took a single deep breath before looking back at the mage once more.
"Head Mage Marcus—no… teacher. Can you give me your support in teaching my child? Not to teach him how to use magic to kill, but to teach him more about the world? With me, teach him what he's soon forced to protect. With me, teach him the values of the life around us, and the wisdom of knowledge that is everywhere. Let him enjoy the world, and let him decide for himself if it's a world that is deemed worthy to protect."
She clenched her free hand before speaking up with courage.
"With me, teach him what it feels like to be happy—to live every moment to the fullest. Make him feel safe, for he is not yet a man with responsibilities, but a child."
A single tear slowly began to run down from one of her eyes. "These words are not for you alone. But also, for me, her mother and his father. I want to make sure to do anything to guarantee his happiness."
With a final push, she placed her open hand on chest, as if what comes next is the very reason for living.
"Because that's my wish—a mother's wish..."