The glow from his chest faded just in time.
Elvira stepped into the room, carrying a handful of folded clothes, her expression relaxed, unaware of the magic that had just awakened only moments before. She gave him a quick glance, smiling as she passed.
"Still where I left you. Good boy," she said with a wink, walking past him toward the laundry basket.
Belial didn't move. He stayed perfectly still, heart still thudding softly beneath his ribs—not from fear, but from excitement. His tiny hands rested on the book, fingertips trembling with the energy he could still feel flickering beneath his skin.
As Elvira disappeared into the hallway, humming softly to herself, he allowed his gaze to shift to the left-hand page of the tome.
The heading glowed faintly:
"The Mana Core: Color Grading System"
Below it was a diagram—a glowing sphere in the center of a chest, surrounded by concentric rings of color. Each ring was labeled in a sharp, clean script, inked in gold.
Belial's eyes widened as he began to read.
Clear Core – The Dormant Stage
The starting point of all living beings. Unawakened and without energy flow. A clear core holds only potential—no power.
White Core – The Flicker Stage
The first spark. Mana has begun to move, but remains shallow and weak. Only minor spells or passive sensing is possible. Common in children and the untrained.
Yellow Core – The Awakening Stage
Mana flows with consistency. The body begins to reinforce naturally, and low-tier magic becomes stable. This is the first true step toward becoming a mage.
Belial paused.
That's me. I'm yellow now… I've started.
Orange Core – The Tempering Stage
Mana veins stretch and strengthen. Elemental alignment begins to show. Internal mana reserves grow. Most local mages never surpass this stage.
Red Core – The Ember Stage
Heat. Power. Passion. The core burns with purpose, and spells gain destructive power. Body reinforcement increases, but so does internal strain.
Green Core – The Harmonization Stage
Elemental affinity solidifies. Mana and body begin to move as one. Spellcasting becomes instinctual. A rare level reached through balance, not just power.
Blue Core – The Flowing Stage
Mana becomes liquid within the core. Control is absolute. Barrier magic, healing arts, and long-range casting become possible. The realm of knights and court sorcerers.
Violet Core – The Arcane Stage
Touching the veil of the world. Time, space, and forgotten arts become accessible. Requires an awakened spirit and deep understanding of mana theory.
Black Core – The Abyssal Stage
A core tainted by chaos or void. Dangerous. Unstable. Grants enormous power at great risk. Few survive its use. Often irreversible.
Gold Core – The Divine Stage
Near-myth. Said to be held only by saints, dragons, or beings of divine birth. Infinite mana. Infinite control. The pinnacle of magical existence.
Belial stared at the page, his heart racing.
From clear to gold… I'm only at yellow, but… it's real. This path exists.
His small hand clenched the page gently, reverently.
And I'm walking it. Even if the world has forgotten, I'll climb it all the way to the top no more been a loser no longer the background character.
From behind the door, Elvira's voice called, "Belial, you hungry again?"
Startled, he gently shut the book and leaned back against the pillows.
"Still quiet in there? That's suspicious…"
He smiled faintly—while deep inside him, the yellow core pulsed once more, steady and growing..
The golden glow had faded, but the fire in his chest remained.
Belial flipped through the ancient tome again, his tiny fingers skimming the brittle edges of each page, eyes scanning for anything that looked like a spell.
Then he found it.
A page titled "Basic Spell: Water Ball" glimmered faintly beneath a swirling blue diagram of a small sphere of liquid suspended in air.
He raised his brows. Water ball? That sounds simple enough.
He read the incantation beneath the diagram—short and primitive, made for beginners. Perfect.
The instructions were clear:
"Step 1: Focus mana into the hands.
Step 2: Visualize water coalescing—see it, feel it, will it.
Step 3: Release when stabilized."
"Okay," Belial whispered under his breath, puffing his cheeks with resolve.
He scooted forward, placing the book open beside him on the sofa. His tiny arms extended shakily in front of him, paws out, like the diagram showed.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and visualized the energy in his chest flowing down—through his arms, to his palms.
Nothing happened.
He opened one eye. Still nothing. Not even a droplet.
He frowned. Again, he told himself.
Breath in. Focus. Flow. Visualize.
This time, a ripple surged through his chest. Mana flowed like warm syrup through his limbs.
Then—a shimmer.
A sphere of water suddenly formed between his small hands. It started as a small droplet—then grew. And grew. And kept growing.
Belial's eyes widened. Wait—wait—why is it still growing?!
The bubble had become the size of his head.
"Shit—I can't stop it!"
In a panic, he stood up on the sofa, wobbling, arms trembling under the weight of the oversized spell.
The only thought in his mind: Aim it somewhere!
He spun toward the window, just as the water ball pulsed—
BOOM!
The explosion wasn't violent, but loud enough to shatter the old wooden frame. Glass burst outward in every direction. The huge water sphere detonated like a balloon, sending a cascade of cold water raining into the yard.
Outside, Elvira stood humming to herself, pinning the last shirt onto the clothesline. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and the air smelled of soap and summer.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a figure walking the road—a man. Tall. Cloaked. Familiar.
Her breath caught.
No… it couldn't be…
He looked up, and their eyes met. Recognition bloomed instantly.
Her heart skipped.
Then—
CRASH!
The window above the house exploded outward, followed by a massive splash of water that rained down like a broken storm cloud.
"What the—?!"
She dropped the basket of clothes and ran toward the house.
The man followed, his steps swift and silent.
"Elvira!" he called from behind, but she was already at the door, yanking it open with both hands.
"Belial!" she shouted, sprinting toward the living room.
The door slammed open.
"Belial!" Elvira's voice echoed through the house, sharp with panic as she sprinted toward the living room.
Water clung to the walls and soaked the rug. The sofa was half-drenched, and shards of glass sparkled in the morning light.
In the center of it all stood Belial—drenched, guilty, and very much alive. A faint mist still drifted in the air, and the book lay wide open beside him, water-splotched but glowing faintly.
His red eyes blinked up at her, wide and stunned.
She stopped mid-run, relief crashing through her like a wave. "Oh thank the stars—"
Footsteps followed behind her, heavy yet smooth. She turned, breath catching.
There he stood.
The man from the road. His hair was dark and tousled, armor dull from travel and battle, the cloak across his back torn at the hem. A long scar curved just beneath one golden eye—but it only made the familiarity more certain.
Elvira's lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. "...Azrael?"
He stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on her—then drifting down to the tiny, soaked child by the sofa.
"Elvira," he said, breathless. "And… is that—?"
She gave a tearful laugh, brushing wet hair from her face. "Yes. That's him. That's our son."
Azrael froze in place, his battle-hardened expression cracking open like shattered ice.
Belial tilted his head, blinking. Our?
Azrael took a few more steps forward, slowly kneeling to meet the child's eyes. "So you're the little firestarter who just blew out the window."
Belial stared at him for a moment, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Wait. This guy's my—
Azrael gave a soft laugh, full of wonder and just a hint of disbelief. "Gods, he has your eyes," he said to Elvira. Then, looking back at Belial, "And trouble written all over his aura. Definitely mine."
"You were supposed to be gone for another month," Elvira said, her voice catching with emotion. "What happened?"
Azrael stood, still looking dazed. "We pushed the demon forces farther back than expected. Broke through two strongholds. I left the rest of the regiment in the East and rode ahead the moment I got leave."
His eyes softened. "I had to see you both."
Water dripped from the cracked frame above, and a cold breeze swept through the broken window.
"Well," Elvira said, letting out a shaky breath and glancing at the soaked floor, "welcome home."