A few weeks had passed since the arrival of the fried chicken.
The excitement around it hadn't waned — not in the castle, not in the city, and certainly not in the royal palace. Everyone still talked about it in hushed tones or open admiration. The very idea of a small, five-year-old girl creating something so golden, crisp, and flavorful had spread across the city like wildfire. Yet for Saphy, that chapter of her life had already closed.
Restlessness bubbled within her, as always, pushing her to the next project. Cooking was never truly complete — each dish was just a stepping stone to the next flavor, the next technique, the next revolution in taste. And so, Saphy had moved on.
This time, she had placed an order for two new things: a smoker and something she called aluminium foil.
The concept of a smoker was easy enough to explain. Once she laid out the rough drawings and basic schematics, Iron Beard's eyes sparkled with comprehension. The dwarf bent over the diagrams, nodding vigorously. "Ah! I see! The airflow here, the smoke chamber here — yes, yes, I can make this." Within days, the iron contraption had begun to take shape, each rivet and hinge meticulously hammered into place by his skillful hands.
The foil, however, posed an entirely new challenge.
They didn't have aluminium. In fact, the very concept was alien to the craftsmen. Their closest approximation was Rough-Silver, a silvery metal used in the kingdom for inexpensive utensils and imitation jewelry. But aluminium's properties — its lightness, flexibility, resistance to rust, and reflective sheen — were unlike anything they had ever encountered.
Saphy had to explain it carefully. She demonstrated how the metal could be hammered into sheets thinner than a hair, how it could be bent, folded, or shaped without snapping, and how its silvery surface gleamed in the light like a miniature mirror. Slowly, Iron Beard's eyes widened in understanding.
"Ah…" he murmured, stroking his beard. "Rough-Silver, yes… but so… delicate. And yet flexible. Ingenious."
Saphy nodded. "Exactly. But this isn't silverware — it's a tool. I'll use it to wrap food, protect it from heat, and retain moisture. It's thin, lightweight… almost like paper, but metallic."
The explanation took hours, with repeated demonstrations and failed attempts at creating thin sheets. By the end of the day, Iron Beard had a rudimentary understanding. He could see the vision, even if the execution remained challenging.
With that hurdle cleared, Saphy finally turned her attention to something far less physical — magic itself.
Her father had already provided her with a collection of spellbooks, all beginner-level, known as Level Zero tomes. Each one was a delicate leather-bound work of knowledge, filled with arcane runes, complex diagrams, and scribbled notes in elegant script.
At first, Saphy wanted to skip ahead to the advanced spellbooks, to dive straight into flashy, high-level spells that could summon storms, crush stone, or call fire from the heavens. The temptation gnawed at her. But Charles had firmly insisted on the fundamentals.
"You cannot build a tower without a foundation," he had said, his voice calm but unwavering. "No matter how talented you are, you must first understand the basics. Without a solid grounding, high-level spells will elude you entirely."
So Saphy began her studies diligently.
Charles often visited her study chamber, sometimes bringing a warm cup of tea or simply standing at the doorway, observing quietly. He would ask if she faced any difficulties, prepared to clarify any point, to ensure she didn't stumble. Yet Saphy, being the genius she was, needed no assistance. She absorbed every rune, every line of instruction, every chant, and every diagram with astonishing speed.
At first, she had been reluctant. The beginner spells seemed mundane, almost trivial. Why spend hours learning how to shoot a small fireball or summon a flicker of light when she could cast massive elemental magic? But slowly, the fascination crept in.
Magic, Saphy realized, was not entirely unlike the science she had studied in her previous life. In the realm of Computer Science and Engineering, one wrote sequences of code, algorithms, and programs — logical constructs that told machines what to do. Magic, she discovered, operated in a remarkably similar manner.
Each spell was a program. Mana served as the power source. Words, gestures, and incantations functioned as commands, structuring the flow of energy. The slightest mispronunciation, the tiniest misalignment of a rune, could cause the spell to fail, just as a single misplaced line of code could crash an entire program.
And just like coding, understanding magic required patience, observation, and precision. It wasn't wild or chaotic. It was a system. A pattern. A set of rules waiting to be decoded.
The realization thrilled her. Magic was no longer a mystery; it was a language she could read, analyze, and even manipulate at will.
---
A month passed almost unnoticed, the days blending seamlessly as quiet progress continued.
The Healing Hall, once a bare stone shell, now stood proudly beneath the sun. Its walls were polished smooth, corridors echoed faintly with the steps of craftsmen finishing decorations, and flowerbeds blossomed near the entrance. Curtains swayed gently in the afternoon breeze, while painted signs hinted at the purpose of the building: a place of hope, care, and restoration.
In the forge, Iron Beard's hammer rang late into the night, the sparks dancing like fireflies as he worked on the smoker. The device now gleamed, functional and intricately detailed. But the foil remained a stubborn problem. No matter how thin he hammered the Rough-Silver, it either tore or stiffened into brittle sheets. The dwarf muttered curses with every failed attempt, frustration etched deep into his brow.
Meanwhile, in her quiet room, Saphy waged a different sort of battle.
Books lay scattered across her desk, some open, some stacked in precarious towers. The smell of old parchment mixed with the faint tang of ink and the subtle scent of lavender oil from the lamp beside her. Her feather pen tapped idly against the wood as she stared at her last open page, eyes tracing the intricate symbols as if deciphering an alien language.
Finally, she leaned back in her chair with a soft sigh, joints popping from hours of study. She had done it. Every single Level Zero spell had been learned, tested, and logged in her grimoire. The foundation was complete.
Suppressing a yawn, she waved her hand lazily. A faint shimmer of blue coalesced in the air before her eyes, the magical residue of her own energy hovering like tiny motes of starlight.
> [Status Window — Open]
The screen unfolded gracefully, bathing the room in soft light. Rows of numbers, attributes, and spell names danced across the transparent display, shifting like threads of liquid glass.
[Status Window – Updated]
Name: Sapphire Rosabelle Astley
Age: 5 years
HP: 100%
Mana: 2.0001M
Strength: 2
Agility: 3
Affinity:
Dark Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Ice Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Lightning Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Fire Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Water Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Earth Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Wind Magic Lv.10 (Max)
Light Law: 20%
Void Law: 5%
Skills:
Perfect Language, Appraisal, Inventory, Void Cultivation, Mana Manipulation, Purification, True Healing, Resurrection, Void Bullet
Saphy blinked twice, the glowing letters reflected in her wide sapphire eyes. "Two million mana… at age five," she murmured, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "If this world had an online leaderboard, I'd be banned for cheating."
Her gaze swept down the list, cheeks puffed in mild exasperation. "Strength two? Agility three? Ugh. Figures. All mana, no muscles. Classic mage build." She flexed her small hands experimentally, letting the hum of mana fill the room, sparkling faintly around her fingers.
Level Zero spells were child's play, yes, but what fascinated her more was the mechanics — how magic worked, the difference between spells and skills, and how each interacted with her affinities.
Her eyes settled on the Spells column, shimmering softly:
<
Rank 0
Fire Ball – A small orb of fire that bursts upon impact. Effective for igniting targets or producing warmth.
Mana Cost: 25
. "Tiny fireballs… basically magical flares. But I could chain a few together for more effect."
Ice Arrow – A shard of pure ice that shoots forward at high speed. Can freeze small amounts of liquid or slow down a moving target.
Mana Cost: 30
"Like shooting a tiny winter at someone. Cute, but effective if aimed carefully."
Wind Cutter – A sharp blade of compressed wind that slices through objects in its path. Low damage, but perfect for testing precision and control.
Mana Cost: 35
"Hmm… slicing without touching. Interesting. Could be useful in delicate cooking spells too."
Water Spray – A concentrated stream of water. Can douse flames, wash objects, or push light targets.
Mana Cost: 20
"Hey, this is basically a magical kitchen hose… could save me a lot of scrubbing."
Earth Bullet – A small chunk of soil or stone hurled forward with force. Low impact, mainly for training aim or breaking weak objects.
Mana Cost: 40
"Huh. Could reinforce soil… or just annoy Iron Beard."
Light Shield – A shimmering barrier of soft light that absorbs minor attacks. Doesn't last long and can't block high-level magic, but excellent for defense practice.
Mana Cost: 50.
"Ah, finally, a defensive spell. Good for experiments without burning the castle down."
Saphy leaned back, letting out a soft laugh. "These are the Temple Isekai spells… I can't believe they actually exist. Tiny, simple, but each one is a perfect building block."
Her fingers hovered over the runes, analyzing mana flow, casting times, and potential applications. Already, her mind raced with possibilities — combining spells, layering effects, even creating sequences like a program or a recipe.
"Highest is 50 mana, huh?" she murmured, her voice soft, almost reverent. "I don't have to worry about that at all. Looking at my mana pool… I won't run out anytime soon." A faint blue aura shimmered around her hands, buzzing lightly in response to her thoughts.
And yet, despite her arsenal of elemental spells, one glaring gap remained: dark magic. Rank 0 tomes contained nothing, but Saphy didn't panic. Her analytical mind immediately began mapping possibilities, tracing mana flows, and testing combinations.
If she understood elemental patterns, if she could see mana as code… then dark magic was just another system to decipher. One she could create herself.
---
The next morning, golden sunlight spilling into her chamber, Saphy began practicing.
Fireballs arced gracefully, leaving faint trails of heat that made parchment curl. Ice Arrows streaked and shattered glass containers. Wind Cutters sliced paper cleanly, Water Sprays danced like liquid threads, Earth Bullets thudded into crates with clouds of dust, and Light Shields flickered like liquid sunlight.
Hours passed in a blur, her small hands tracing arcs and sigils, her eyes following mana patterns like lines of code.
And then it clicked.
Spells and skills were fundamentally different.
Skills were part of the body — instinctive, seamless. A trained hand moved automatically, as if a switch had flipped inside the caster. Spells, in contrast, were tools. Each movement, each word, each flow of energy had to be deliberate, consciously constructed. Spells obeyed only if you knew exactly how to handle them.
Saphy's lips curved in a contemplative smile. A soft blue aura shimmered around her fingers.
"So… skills are part of me," she whispered. "But spells… those are the toys I get to play with."
A thrill of possibility surged through her. If she could combine all elements, manipulate mana like lines of code… maybe, just maybe, she could create something no Level Zero tome had ever recorded.
Magic was no longer a mystery. It was a playground.
And with that thought, Saphy leaned back, chest rising and falling in quiet excitement, ready for the countless experiments, discoveries, and creations that lay ahead.
The foundations were laid. So, the real adventure would begin.