Today was Charles' sixth birthday.
Even though he could only spend it aboard the airship, with no one around to wish him well, he was still very happy.
Compared to his old life, the days he lived now already felt like a dream.
He had come from a poor family. With many siblings, even having enough food was often a problem.
One meal a day had been the norm.
As a result, he was underdeveloped—skinny and frail, much shorter than his peers. He looked more like a little monkey than a boy.
But everything changed the day he was discovered to have wizard potential.
Though his aptitude was only third-tier—supposedly neither outstanding nor terrible—for a commoner, it was still something countless people dreamed of.
In this world, wizards were the absolute rulers. They held the highest status across all lands.
Mortal nations were nothing more than breeding grounds. Royal families existed merely to help them manage the population.
Under the relentless propaganda of the wizarding order, to produce offspring with wizard potential was touted as the greatest honor a mortal could achieve.
Now, even though Charles was merely a wizard apprentice-in-training, the status alone had brought unimaginable changes to his family. His once-struggling parents and siblings were now treated like nobility.
The city lord even rewarded them with several properties and hundreds of gold coins—wealth enough to live comfortably for generations. They would never have to worry about survival again.
Charles adjusted his clothes carefully again. Even now, he still wasn't used to wearing such fine garments.
The luxurious material was something he had only ever seen on nobles before. He hadn't even dared to look at it too long in the past, let alone touch it.
Since he became an apprentice-in-training, the city lord had ordered tailors to work overtime, crafting several sets of clothing for each of the newly chosen apprentices.
Whenever Charles recalled the chubby city lord smiling kindly as he personally handed him the clothes, he couldn't help but feel deeply moved.
He thought to himself: "One day, I must repay this kindness."
Though the clothes were soft and comfortable, Charles still felt a bit awkward wearing them.
In the past, he had never dared to dream of wearing anything like this. Not even in his wildest dreams.
It felt like a toad had suddenly put on a swan's feathers. He imagined that everyone saw him as a joke, a clown. So he avoided interacting with others, keeping to his room after boarding the ship, afraid to see any mocking eyes.
But when he heard the commotion outside his door, curiosity finally got the better of him, and after several days of hiding, he stepped out.
He followed the other children to the top deck of the massive airship.
Through the transparent eyes of the giant whale-shaped ship, he saw a sprawling complex of buildings far below.
They were nestled within a dense forest, surrounded by thick mist. Even from this high up, he could only make out a vague outline.
But even that vague outline told Charles all he needed to know—this place was unimaginably vast, far larger than anything he had imagined.
Compared to this place, his old hometown looked like a toddler's toy village.
Just then, a voice—young but calm and composed—sounded next to him:
"It's massive. Even the capital feels small next to it."
Charles turned to look and saw a boy about his age standing beside him. Everything about the boy—from his appearance to his clothes—radiated nobility. The boy smiled warmly at him.
Meeting Charles' eyes, the boy extended his hand in a friendly gesture.
"Hello, I'm Saya Glens, the 17th prince of the Kingdom of Daltoria. I haven't seen you around before."
Charles froze, momentarily at a loss. He had never imagined speaking to a prince, let alone one who would greet him so casually.
After fumbling awkwardly, he hesitantly reached out and shook the offered hand.
"N-nice to meet you... I'm Charles."
Unlike Saya, who had a surname, Charles—as a commoner—only had a given name.
Saya didn't laugh at his awkwardness. Instead, he smiled and said gently,
"Charles, is it? That's a good name. I'll remember it."
He stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Charles, gazing down at the landscape.
With a calm tone, Saya spoke:
"You really don't need to be so nervous. You should carry yourself with confidence. No matter what kind of life you lived before, now that you possess the potential to become a wizard, you're someone special. There's no need to let your past hold you back."
"Trust me, Charles. You can live with your head held high now."
Hearing the soft yet powerful words, Charles felt something stir inside him.
Looking at his own reflection in Saya's deep blue eyes, he couldn't quite describe what he was feeling.
But in that moment, he realized something: some people were simply different by nature. Saya had a natural charm that made others want to follow him.
'Maybe... it's time I changed, too...'
It was the first time in his life he had ever had such a thought.
Saya Glens, seeing Charles' stunned expression, kept his face neutral, but inside he was quite pleased.
As someone who had received elite education since childhood, Saya knew very well the importance of forming alliances in unfamiliar environments. And Charles, a timid and inexperienced commoner, was the perfect person to pull into his circle.
So even as a prince, Saya had chosen to take the initiative and approach him.
Well—technically, Charles was a wizard apprentice now, so it wasn't really "stooping down." It was the perfect excuse.
Nodding inwardly with satisfaction, Saya silently gave himself a score of 100 out of 100.
It wouldn't be fair to call him devious.
Compared to the older generation, the young Saya was still relatively innocent. The real difference between him and Charles came down to the vastly different environments they had grown up in.
While Charles tended to endure and adapt, Saya preferred to take control.
-----
A middle-aged man stepped forward.
He raised a hand to quiet the noisy crowd of students.
Charles didn't know his name, but he did know that this man was the leader of the academy's recruitment team.
The man spoke coldly, his tone devoid of emotion:
"We'll be arriving at the academy shortly. The airship is preparing to descend. Get ready."
"Yes, sir!"
Standing among the others, Charles instinctively shrank back a little as he responded along with the group, his eyes lingering on the man's forehead—where a third eye rested, wide open.
Back in his room a short while later, Charles couldn't stop thinking about the man and the other instructors. A flicker of curiosity crossed his mind:
"In all the stories, wizards are said to have strange and otherworldly features... I wonder if I'll end up like that too?"
"Hmm…"
As the mist above the academy parted, revealing the view below, Charles, Saya, and the other new students couldn't help but gasp in awe.
It was the first time any of them had seen anything like this.
Even Saya murmured with genuine wonder:
"So humans really can control the weather…"
After passing through the opening in the fog, the airship slowly descended toward a vast field of crimson flowers.
Just before the hatch opened and the ramp lowered, the lead instructor turned to the students with a solemn expression and warned:
"If you don't want to die, don't touch the red flowers."
The students, though puzzled, nodded quickly when they saw how serious he was.
As Charles stepped down the ramp, he looked out over the seemingly endless sea of red blooms. A soft breeze rippled through the field, making the flowers sway and rustle like waves. His eyes widened in amazement.
"It's… beautiful." he whispered, stunned.
Through the haze, he could faintly see red mist drifting up from the petals.
Oddly enough, even when the wind blew, the mist didn't disperse. Instead, it clung to the flowers like a delicate red veil, enhancing their mysterious beauty.
And perhaps it was just his imagination, but the fragrance carried by the breeze made Charles feel a strange sense of comfort. A warm, sleepy bliss began to creep into him—he wanted to stay, to breathe it in a little longer.
What he didn't know was that he wasn't the only one. The other students around him all wore the same dazed, entranced expressions.
Watching this eerie scene unfold, the lead instructor furrowed his brow slightly—but he didn't seem surprised.
It happened every year.
Unlike the new students, the instructor had far sharper senses. He could clearly feel a presence—something powerful—containing the flowers' magical energy, holding back most of its effects.
Otherwise, with their current level, these students would've gone insane on the spot.
Just as he was about to lead the group away, something caught his eye.
Sitting casually on a tree branch nearby was a figure.
The instructor's gaze fell on the person's long, blood-red hair, and immediately, he recognized who it was. His expression changed slightly, and he quickly offered a respectful greeting.
His own teacher had once warned him in hushed tones: this guardian was not like the others.
This being had been summoned not from this world, but from some distant realm by the academy headmaster himself, through an ancient summoning ritual. Though it looked human, spoke like one, and could be reasoned with—it was anything but ordinary.
According to the headmaster, it was a being of extreme danger. Best to avoid interaction if possible.
So the instructor wisely chose not to engage.
After they had moved on, Orsaga—the red-haired being—turned toward the empty air beside him and asked lazily,
"Why is it that you wizards are so obsessed with bloodline experiments? You're all starting to seem more like monsters than I am."
A calm voice responded from the unseen presence:
"To us, race and bloodline are narrow concepts. The only thing that matters is the identity of being a wizard."
Orsaga chuckled softly, a trace of amusement in his eyes.
"I see. So your sense of identity as a wizard overrides everything else… Strange kind of spellcaster, aren't you? Insane, but undeniably powerful…"
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T/N:
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