POV: Jimmy Welton
Grandmage Marcus did not stay long after that day.
Old as he was, he disliked lingering. He said the world still moved too fast to sit still—and that his body simply tried to keep up.
The morning of his departure, the Welton estate felt quieter than usual.
I stood in the courtyard with my parents.
Grandmage Marcus stood before us, leaning lightly on his staff. In the sunlight, he truly looked his age—silver hair, deep wrinkles, a body worn by decades of magic and travel.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
"Jimmy," he said, "come here."
I stepped forward.
From within his robes, Marcus pulled out a thick book bound in dark leather. Strange symbols were carved into its cover—none I had seen before.
"This," he said, placing it gently into my hands, "is a book I wrote myself."
My fingers tightened instinctively.
"A self-made magical book?" I asked.
Marcus nodded.
"It contains my understanding of mana," he said calmly. "Not spells you copy—but principles you think about."
He lowered his voice slightly.
"Don't rush it. Read it when you're ready."
I looked up at him, serious.
"…Thank you."
Marcus chuckled.
"You're welcome. Though I suspect you'll understand it faster than I ever did."
Duke Halfthōr Welton stepped forward.
"You've done more than enough, Marcus," he said firmly. "House Welton will not forget this."
Marcus waved a hand dismissively.
"Hah. Don't make me sound like I'm dying yet."
Still, his eyes softened.
"Take care of the boy," he added quietly. "The world won't be gentle with someone like him."
The Duke nodded.
"I know."
Servants, knights, and my mother stood nearby as well, offering respectful farewells.
Duchess Elinora bowed slightly.
"Please travel safely, Grandmage."
Marcus smiled at her.
"I will and Jimmy meet u soon ."
He stepped back into the open space of the courtyard.
The air shifted.
Mana gathered.
Wind began to swirl gently around his body, lifting his robes and hair. The pressure grew stronger—controlled, vast, and effortless.
"So that's wind magic…" I murmured.
Marcus heard me and laughed.
"Watch carefully, Jimmy."
The wind wrapped around him like a cloak.
Then—
He rose.
Higher and higher, floating effortlessly above the courtyard.
With a final wave of his hand, the wind exploded forward—
And in a single instant, Grandmage Marcus shot into the sky like an arrow, vanishing beyond the clouds at terrifying speed.
Silence followed.
I looked down at the book in my hands.
Heavy.
Not in weight—
But in meaning.
A legacy, I thought.
Sword training by day.
Magic by night.
And now… wisdom left behind by a Grandmage.
I tightened my grip.
I won't waste it.
End of Chapter 9