Unlocking a New Skill Tree

*

A few days after taking Erika on as my assistant.

I turned twelve.

— 'Happy birthday, Julian!'

The birthday party flew by like a storm, with congratulations bursting out from everywhere.

A mountain of gift boxes sent by the Mercure Merchant Guild.

My father’s over-the-top tears as he dabbed his eyes and said, 'Our Julian is already twelve!'

And even Freya awkwardly handing me a handkerchief and offering her congratulations.

After the hectic party finally ended and dinner was over.

I was just about to go back to my room and check the gifts.

Knock, knock.

When I opened the door at the sound of the knock, Mother was standing there.

For a second, I thought she was a ghost.

At night, when everyone else was asleep, she had come herself, not a servant or maid.

'Julian, come to the study for a moment.'

And her face was extremely serious when she said it.

I grew tense and followed Mother without even asking why.

'What? What in the world is going on?'

The atmosphere in front of the study was fierce in every sense of the word.

Guards stationed on both sides of the hallway.

On top of that, there were two more on either side of the study door.

A hallway that would normally have had just one guard was now lined with four, and I couldn’t help but tense up.

The guards only bowed their heads and said nothing as Mother and I passed by.

Men who would normally greet us warmly were acting like that, so it felt like something terribly serious was going on.

Creak-

A guard silently opened the door for us.

The door opened.

Father was waiting inside.

As the door closed behind us, Mother locked it from the inside.

'Sit down, Julian.'

Father pointed at the sofa.

The atmosphere was incredibly heavy.

So heavy that even if some secret of my birth suddenly popped out, it wouldn’t have seemed strange.

No way. Was I not adopted, but actually an illegitimate child?

'No way.'

Because both of them just kept staring without saying a word, I got so nervous I started rambling to myself.

At last, Father broke the silence and spoke.

'You’re twelve now.'

'Yes. Thanks to you, I was able to grow up safely.'

'That’s not something a child your age should be saying... Haa. Never mind.'

The head of the house let out a sigh.

'I couldn’t bring this up at the birthday party, so that’s why I called you here. By imperial law, you can start learning magic once you turn twelve. Did you know that?'

'Yes, I know.'

The abilities needed to handle magic were broadly two.

The minimum cognitive ability to understand the world,

and the physical sense to feel mana.

And these two elements were generally considered to reach the minimum requirement once a child turned twelve.

Father nodded, saying he was glad I picked it up quickly.

'So it’s about time you learned how to be a noble.'

The way to become a noble.

The moment I heard that, I understood why the atmosphere had been so severe.

Magic was the minimum requirement for becoming a noble.

Not every mage became a noble, but every noble had to know how to handle magic.

Only then could they fulfill a noble’s duty.

'So that’s why.'

Only then did I understand this stern atmosphere.

Passing down magic is a major affair for a family.

Depending on who learns it, you can tell who the next heir will be, and depending on what magic is learned, you can more or less predict where that family is headed in the future.

That was why there was nothing to gain from telling outsiders.

'Good. I’ll tell you the schedule from here on out.'

Naturally, there is also an order to learning magic.

Just as basic education has elementary, middle, and high school.

'First, let’s have you learn the basics from a private tutor.'

A private tutor teaches only the basics of magic, exactly as the name suggests.

The nature of magic, the basic formulas, spell activation principles, and figuring out which types of magic I was suited for, and so on.

But beyond that, no matter what happens, they never teach you more.

Once a magician’s fundamentals are more or less in place, they have to follow their own path from there.

If the tutor’s path and the student’s path are similar, the bond may continue, but usually they part ways there and move on to the next stage.

But Father was careful not to say too much about that part.

'The next step is a story for later. Even the tutor course alone usually takes three years.'

The Mother who had been quietly listening beside Father smiled softly.

'Don’t push yourself too hard. Learn slowly.'

Toward that smile, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

That it would probably take only a few months.

*

Three months later.

'...Does this even make sense?'

Private tutor Schmidt muttered with a dazed expression.

He had been called by Mother, and apparently he was the top tutor for noble home education.

And he really did teach well.

'I’ve taught for over thirty years, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen a case like this.'

'That’s because you teach so well, sir.'

'No, I only did what I normally do. You may be proud of that part.'

Saying it like that was way too embarrassing.

'Especially with alchemy, there’s nothing for me to teach you. Your understanding of the structure and transformation of matter...'

'I was already pretty familiar with that part.'

'You were familiar with it?'

'There were reasons for that...'

I couldn’t exactly say, 'I’m the director of a pharmaceutical merchant guild,' so I brushed it off with a laugh.

I just dressed it up as a simple interest in that field.

The teacher didn’t ask any further and nodded.

'It seems the young master should pursue alchemy.'

Yes. I’m already on that path.

I already have a company. It’s huge. It just got promoted to a Rank 2 merchant guild this time.

….

….

After saying that, the teacher fell silent.

He looked like he clearly had something more to say.

But he held his tongue and bid me farewell.

'It was a pleasure teaching you, Julian, my student. If fate brings us together again someday, I hope we can meet once more.'

'I’m grateful for the past three months as well.'

'Likewise, it was a rewarding time for me to teach again after so long. Thank you.'

The teacher left the room with a gentle smile.

As soon as I saw him out, I checked that no one was around and walked to my bed.

And then,

I buried my face in the pillow and let out a groan.

'Uuugh...'

It had been exhausting to keep acting like nothing was wrong on the outside.

I thought I could coast by using 21st-century scientific knowledge.

After all, I was on a track I could proudly call elite even by 21st-century science standards.

I thought that in three months I could get through the whole course and, at the end,

'Aah, so this is all there is to magic in this world. Pathetic. I could die.'

I thought I’d be able to pull things like that off.

But life wasn’t that easy.

The scientific principles were still there.

The problem was that science wasn’t the only thing involved.

I had to know folklore, mythology, and even religious and philosophical symbolism.

'Why is salt a “symbol” that drives away evil spirits?'

'Why is silver an “inhibitor” against werewolves?'

'Why is lead a “catalyst” that traps souls?'

I don’t know. That’s just how it is.

In this world, those rules are basically gravity and electromagnetism.

'And what’s with the caster’s state of mind?'

Symbols, inhibition, catalysts, mindset, faith, intent....

And on top of that, scientific knowledge.

Magic was a field with far too many superstitious variables for a rational 21st-century surgeon to understand.

That said, if I was going to keep up the genius act, I couldn’t afford to look like I was stumbling in class.

So every day, I studied ahead the night before and then acted like a genius who understood everything instantly the next day.

'This damn genius act... I can’t keep it up.'

But if I kept this up, the act would crack.

So I had to do my silly act in my head every so often, even if only inwardly.

Wow, finishing it in three months? Insane, insane.

...Damn.

A sparrow trying to keep up with a stork is going to tear itself apart.

I really shouldn’t have set finishing it in three months as my goal in the first place...

Still, I couldn’t compromise.

It’d be weird if the genius protagonist spent the whole three-year course learning magic for three whole years.

So I studied with a speedrunning mindset.

This was no easy thing to do.

Thanks to that, I got to relive the feeling of being a South Korean college entrance-exam crammer after twenty-five years.

Exam crammers, hang in there. You guys must have it rough.

But you still have to keep studying in college too. How awful.

'In other stories, you just click to learn it.'

Wasn’t magic usually in a completely different place in other stories?

Didn’t it just get engraved into your body when you woke up, or have a skill window pop up while you were asleep?

Or at the very least, since it’s a fantasy world, shouldn’t learning things one by one be exciting enough to make dopamine flow?

Come on. Give me some of that easy mode too.

'...Well, whatever. It’s done now.'

The rest is just waiting.

If I put in this much effort, the power of misunderstanding should handle the rest.

***

At that very moment, Julian was in his own bamboo grove—face buried in a pillow and venting his feelings.

Teacher Schmidt had come to the study to report his final results.

'So, what is it you have to say, sir?'

Julian’s parent, Hendel, asked.

Across the desk, Schmidt let out a heavy sigh.

The gentle smile he had shown Julian just moments before was nowhere to be seen.

'...Baron. May I speak frankly?'

'Go ahead.'

Then Teacher Schmidt carefully began.

'Please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, and listen carefully. The young master has unmatched talent for keeping pace. In terms of theory, he is better than any student I have ever taught.'

After finishing his words, Teacher Schmidt paused for a moment.

Countless worries swirled in his mind.

Would it really be all right to report this exactly as it was?

At worst, the family head might throw an ashtray straight at his head.

He had actually met plenty of nobles like that.

But Schmidt soon composed himself and spoke again.

'However, I think it would be best to give up on the dream of becoming a mage...'

'...What do you mean by that?'

At Linie’s question, the teacher hurriedly bowed his head.

Because though he had phrased it nicely, the meaning alone made it an incredibly rude statement.

In other words: your son has no practical talent.

He should just go into research.

That was roughly what it meant.

Beside Hendel, Linie’s hand stopped above her teacup as she listened to the explanation.

'Could you tell me more about what you mean, teacher?'

'Yes, madam. We held a practical exam in the latter half of class.'

Teacher Schmidt ticked off his fingers.

He was counting the subjects covered in class.

'The theory was perfect. Ice, lightning, fire, alchemy.... Ordinary young lords tend to show talent in one area, but the young master had mastered every area. He fully understood the principles behind the spell formulas.'

'Then what is the problem?'

'Even though he understands the theory, he can’t actually activate any of it.'

Hendel’s brow furrowed.

'Not a single one?'

'Yes. Not a single one.'

Schmidt let out a sigh.

'Baron, Baroness. In magic, theory and practice are different.'

Schmidt wrote letters in the air with his finger.

It was the basic conditional statement from the workbook, something nobles memorized like a formula.

'In theory, you assume the conditions and begin from there, don’t you? 'You are attempting to cast magic in a <Cemetery> at 32 degrees Celsius and 85 percent humidity.' Something like that.'

'Right.'

'The young master can construct a perfect formula under those assumptions. The problem is...'

Schmidt trailed off.

'In practice, nobody tells you those conditions, do they?'

….

'Some places are 30 degrees, some are 14. Humidity changes in real time, and after you cast magic once, the conditions change again. On top of that, the symbolism inherent in each place is different.'

Understanding what Teacher Schmidt was trying to say, Linie asked carefully.

'Could it be that Julian can’t sense symbolism?'

'Yes.'

By contrast, Hendel, who lacked knowledge in this area, crossed his arms and asked for a more detailed explanation.

'Explain a little more. I’m a layman when it comes to this. What do you mean by symbolism?'

'I’ll use ice as an example.'

Schmidt spread his palm and made a small ice crystal above it.

'Right here, if I were to cast ice magic, I’d first have to feel the temperature and humidity through my skin. At the same time, I’d need to read the “aura of stillness and forgetting” woven into this space.'

'Hmm...'

'For lightning, in addition to the “sense for reading potential differences and atmospheric conditions,” you need a sense for finding where the aura of fury and arrogance gathers.'

'So he lacks that?'

'Yes. The young master lacks both magical bodily sense and sensitivity.'

At those words, Linie set down her teacup and nodded.

'Indeed, that’s not something you can teach.'

Schmidt bowed his head.

'The young master understands everything perfectly in his head. His body just can’t keep up.'

Silence fell.

Hendel broke that silence and spoke.

'...So what is your conclusion?'

'Among nobles, people like the young master are called “Twilight Fireflies.”'

Twilight Fireflies.

Hendel knew that metaphor too.

They shine brilliantly at dusk, and disappear when night falls.

It referred to young lords and ladies who shine brightly in childhood but never make it into the ranks of nobility as adults.

'Are you certain, sir?'

At that metaphor, Hendel’s brow tightened.

Schmidt nodded.

'It seems the young master will have no choice but to walk the path of a wizard.'

Wizard.

The kind who can only use magic by studying formulas, drawing them in advance, or relying on magical tools.

They weren’t unable to become nobles, but it was a very difficult path.

'So becoming a mage really is difficult?'

'A mage...'

Mages were the kind who could freely cast magic with nothing more than a magic wand at hand.

Naturally, elites like that did not have much trouble becoming nobles.

But,

'I’m sorry.'

Julian was not that kind of person.

Schmidt did not bother to explain this in detail.

Even without hearing the rest, Hendel understood what it meant.

'I see.'

Hendel’s voice sank.

In the Empire, a wizard is just a technical profession; they are not counted as a mage who can retain a noble title.

If I were to explain this situation in Julian’s own words, what Teacher Schmidt was saying was this.

- Your son probably won’t make med school, so it’d be better to look for some other talent.

That was what he meant.

It wasn’t that he lacked talent.

Only that his talent wasn’t in a socially convenient direction.

To Julian himself, that was nothing to make a fuss about, but from a parent’s perspective, it hit differently.

'Teacher. Just tell me this one thing. Do you think Julian, that boy, can inherit a noble title?'

For nobles, magic is first and foremost a weapon and a way to make a name for yourself.

Their privileges come from the force to fight the monsters beyond the walls.

That was why Hendel’s worry was justified.

No matter how outstanding his talent might be, if Julian could not become a mage...

He would likely be pushed out first in the food chain of noble society.

'Tell me plainly, teacher.'

'He can succeed as a wizard or as a scholar. But as a noble or a mage...'

Schmidt trailed off.

A painful look flickered in Hendel’s eyes.

He knew better than anyone how cruel this ecosystem was.

But only for a moment, Hendel nodded.

'I understand. Thank you for telling me.'

'Then I’ll take my leave, Baron.'

After Teacher Schmidt left.

A heavy silence settled over the study.

As the steam rising from the teacups began to fade.

Hendel broke the silence first.

'My dear.'

'Yes.'

'I was a dullard.'

Linie turned her head.

'What do you mean, all of a sudden?'

'I was born dull. It took me five years just to get through the basics of magic. Even then, I only barely learned it by feel.'

Hendel looked out the window.

'Still, it was fine. My body kept up. Even if your head is slow, if you have the sense for it, magic is something you can make work.'

Linie did not answer.

'But Julian is the opposite. His head is ten times better than mine, yet his body doesn’t keep up, does it?'

'...Yes.'

'Isn’t that even crueler?'

Linie’s hand clenched the hem of her skirt.

Cruel. It was true.

He can understand it, but he can’t do it.

Linie knew better than anyone how frustrating that kind of thing was.

That was also the reason the Nihirit family had to take Hendel in as a son-in-law.

'Hoo... Let’s not tell Julian about this.'

Hendel said.

'I don’t think there’d be anything good about him knowing.'

'...All right.'

Linie nodded too.

But a corner of her heart felt heavy.

Falling from the nobility.

Because it meant more than simply a change in status.

'This world is merciless to those who fall.'

Linie recalled what her mother had told her when she was young.

Those above crush your wings so you can’t rise again.

Those below tear your limbs off to build a ladder.

And those even lower slash apart whatever remains simply to vent their frustrations.

That was why the people of the Empire struggle so desperately.

Not to rise, but to avoid falling.

'I wanted Julian to never have to go through what I did...'

Linie covered her face with both hands.

Before meeting her husband, how much pain and anxiety had she endured?

Hendel knew that well, and so he held her in his arms.

'It will be all right, my dear.'

Hendel’s own chest felt as if it were being torn apart.

But at the same time, he did not let go of hope.

'Wasn’t he the boy who used to work miracles?'

He knew better than anyone what miracles Julian had wrought through effort.

'That boy will be fine.'

As someone who had watched those things up close, he believed in Julian.

Even knowing how arduous that road would be.

As a parent, he could only cheer him on along the way.

*

And at that very moment.

The laboratory.

'Heehee.'

Julian peered into the flask and wore a goofy grin.

'I should have learned magic way earlier.'

Julian already knew better than anyone that he could not become a mage.

But that did not lead to despair.

Because in this genre, when one route is blocked, a nonstandard route opens up—that was common sense.

'So basically, it’s telling me to go into alchemy.'

He grinned as he looked at the pig intestines bubbling inside the flask.

'Why bother becoming a mage? Utility magic handles temperature control just fine.'

For him, the protagonist of a misunderstanding story, the fact that he couldn’t become a mage was, in any case, no big deal.