"My father was basically the classic 'main character' type straight out of a Japanese isekai novel."
Still, Sol knew things weren't that straightforward. There were plenty of hidden truths his father hadn't shared — but honestly, that wasn't his concern right now. His father's past could wait. He had more urgent matters to deal with.
"Master, what should I do?"
That was the real question. When you don't understand something, you seek guidance. Ask those wiser than you, look for solutions, and walk the path they show. It had always been Sol's guiding rule — in this life and the last.
Edea smiled warmly at his question, pleased that Sol could rely on her in his times of doubt. Then, she gave her thoughts.
"Sol, when you spoke with Lilith earlier, she wasn't wrong. Your life will always carry heavy burdens, expectations others place on you. Success won't be praised — it will be demanded. And failure, no matter how small, will be mocked. That's the reality you'll face. But… so what?"
Her words carried sharp disdain as she pressed on.
"You aren't Jupiter, nor are you Mars. You are Sol. So what if strangers never praise you? If those you love do, isn't that enough? So what if the world scorns you for stumbling? As long as you rise again, you'll be fine.
You're destined for greatness, I've no doubt. But don't let common sense chain you. Becoming king, saving the world — those things are good, yes, but fleeting. Riches and glory fade with time. What truly matters is happiness. And how do you achieve that?"
"By becoming a little better each day."
"That's my boy. Never compare yourself to others. Don't aim to outdo someone else — that's hollow. Power that only exists in comparison is meaningless. Strive for self-improvement. Be better than the you of yesterday."
With that, she waved her hand, summoning an ancient book marked with the symbol of a serpent devouring its tail.
"This grimoire is as old as I am. My teacher gave it to me when my sisters and I first trained under her. Together with our mother, we became known as the Five Directions — the first witches."
Her voice softened, sadness flickering in her smile.
"Time, Space, Life, Destruction. West, East, North, South. Four witches, four forces. But there was also the fifth…"
"Origin."
Edea answered his unspoken question before he could ask.
"From where everything begins, to where everything ends… Origin was my teacher's domain, my mother's power. She created the first magic, and all witches' grimoires are tied to hers. As long as witches grow stronger, so does she. She's a monster beyond comprehension — not unlike your father. That's why I told you all this. He isn't the only being who defies logic, and he won't be the last."
A sly smile tugged at her lips.
"Tell me, Sol. Do you wish to become a monster too?"
Sol only gave a thin smile in return. Some things were best left unsaid. He would not live forever in his father's shadow. His future would be his own.
Edea chuckled softly. "Now then, enough of the pep talk. Let's move on — your Awakening. Tell me what you know."
Sol stirred his tea, collecting his thoughts before answering.
"Humans are born unable to use mana or magic. Only at fifteen can they undergo the Awakening, which grants them the ability to wield raw mana — but not magic."
"And the difference?"
"Mana is the energy source; magic is its refined form. After Awakening, humans can channel mana but not shape it into spells. To overcome this, they must form contracts — pledges with nonhuman beings. Talent is measured by two things: how much mana you have, and your capacity."
"Capacity being?"
"The number of contracts you can sustain. The greater your capacity, the more powerful beings you can bond with. And if you're lucky, you inherit their elemental abilities."
Edea nodded. "Contracts are the foundation of human power. Without them, growing strong is possible, but far harder."
She leaned forward. "So how much capacity does one need for a single contract?"
"It depends on quality. Humans are judged by mana and capacity; magical beings by mana and quality, ranked from E to S. An E-class requires capacity 10. An S-class? At least 100."
"And the odds of being born with that?"
"Ten capacity: about 10%. One hundred capacity… 0.0001%."
Even saying it sent a chill down his spine. One in ten could manage the lowest level — but an S-class? Only one in a million.
"Exactly," Edea said. "The world is unfair. Hard work matters, but birthright matters more. I was born with only five capacity, barely enough for an E-class contract. Yet I'm powerful. Why?"
"Because you're a witch."
"Correct. And what are witches?"
"Humans bound to Asmodeus, the divine beast of Lust. Unlike other contracts, capacity doesn't apply. Only Asmodeus can contract with many humans at once."
"And the price?"
"Three curses. Eternal youth, which freezes their appearance in childhood. Doomed love, ensuring all relationships fail. And…" Sol hesitated, voice faltering.
"And infertility," Edea finished softly. A bitter smile crossed her face.
"Asmodeus is cruel. Alone, each curse is bearable. Together, they mean this: 'You desire power? Very well. But in exchange, you'll live a life of endless loneliness. You may never love, nor be loved, nor bear children.'"
A tragic fate — one not many could endure.