Now I was three years old.
And if my theory was right, it was the perfect age to start truly testing my limits.
"Rudy! What did I say about staying up late?"
"But Mom! I wasn't awake, I was just—"
"No excuses, young man! Hand me that book!"
Before I could react, Zenith firmly pulled the book from my hands. My heart skipped a beat.
"…Alright, Mom. Sorry. I won't do it again."
"Rudy… you said the same thing yesterday."
I watched my mother step away from the bed. She stopped in the middle of the room, glanced around, and let out a quiet sigh.
"You've been sneaking your father's ink again, haven't you?"
And just like that, I ended up getting scolded for wasting ink… and sentenced to cleaning my room the next day.
Unfortunately, "the next day" came faster than I would've liked.
The sun had barely risen when I was already kneeling on the floor, scrubbing a stubborn ink stain. Lilia stood beside me, as impeccable as ever, holding a clean cloth while watching me with her usual neutral expression.
"More force, young master."
"…I've been scrubbing for a while now."
"And yet it's still not finished."
I couldn't argue with that.
I let out a quiet breath and went back to scrubbing, but my fingers slowed as I stared at the stain. That stupid mark just wouldn't come off. If I adjusted my hand… maybe I could clean it without any effort.
Without drawing attention, I repositioned my hand, as if merely changing the angle. I lightly fed mana into it—not into form, but into motion.
I imagined the air being pulled and aligned in a single direction, like an invisible current sliding along the ground. Not an explosion… but a steady, precise push.
Little by little, the residue around the stain loosened… and began to slide a few centimeters.
"Young master."
My body froze.
"Yes?"
"If you intend to use magic, I recommend you do so more carefully."
I slowly turned my head. Lilia maintained her perfect posture, but for a brief moment, I thought I saw her eyes narrow slightly—almost as if she were amused.
"Well… since you're complaining, I think it's only fair that you help, Auntie."
There was a brief silence.
Then, the corner of her lips curved upward. A small smile—barely noticeable, but definitely there.
"If the young master is having difficulty, it would be improper not to assist."
She knelt beside me with elegance, took another cloth, and began cleaning the stain with precise movements.
"Finally."
"I do not recall being asked before."
Hard to argue with that.
We stayed in silence for a few seconds, the sound of cloth against the floor filling the air. But eventually, something that had been bothering me came to mind.
"Miss Lilia."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever trained in magic?"
"No."
"I see…"
I paused, choosing my words carefully.
"I've been able to learn some things on my own… but it's starting to become inconsistent. Basic spells still work, but when I try something a little more complex…"
Lilia paused for a brief moment.
"That is to be expected."
She resumed her movements as if it were nothing of importance.
"Magic is not learned through repetition alone. It is like wielding a sword. Alone… you can only go so far." The cloth slid across the floor with precision. "After that, you need someone to show you the way."
That made sense.
The comparison was simple, direct, and surprisingly accurate.
A sword, huh…?
I didn't know Lilia had experience with weapons. She always acted like the perfect maid—calm, flawless, almost invisible. But the way she spoke, with that quiet certainty, didn't sound like something learned secondhand. It sounded like experience.
Maybe she had been a swordswoman in the past.
"In that case…" she continued, as if nothing had happened, "it would be best for the young master to have a tutor."
A tutor, huh…
The word echoed in my mind as I continued scrubbing the floor beside Lilia.
It wasn't a bad idea. In fact, it made sense. I had already reached the limit of what I could learn on my own. Magic was one thing, but refining control, learning new elements, and understanding deeper principles… that required knowledge I simply didn't have.
Still, there were risks.
A tutor meant another person in the house. Someone who would observe me every day and might notice that I didn't act like a normal three-year-old—that I spoke and thought like an adult.
Even so, staying stagnant was worse. I had already hit a wall. If I wanted to truly progress, I needed guidance.
I let out a quiet breath, dipping the cloth into the water again.
What was the worst-case scenario?
In the worst case, the tutor realizes I'm abnormal and… what? Thinks I'm a prodigy? Treats me like a strange child? My parents already think I'm a genius anyway, after that demonstration in the garden. Maybe I can pass it off as being "exceptionally smart."
Besides… Lilia already knew more than I would've liked. And even then, she hadn't told my parents anything strange. On the contrary, she had even helped cover up the story about the book. Maybe a tutor wouldn't be as risky as I thought.
…Alright. Tomorrow, I'll take the first step.
Because in the end… I needed to grow faster.
"…Thank you."
"I am pleased to be of use, young master."
…She really never changes.
---
That night, sitting on the floor of my room, I practiced earth magic.
The room was quiet, except for the faint, almost inaudible sound of clay moving under my control. Occasionally, muffled noises came from the room next door—Zenith and Paul were probably "training" too. I ignored it. Not my business.
"Focus… don't force it. Control," I murmured, keeping my eyes fixed on the small rise of earth, growing and shifting exactly as I wanted.
What I was creating now was more than a simple mound of earth. I imagined the clay gathering, compressing into a thin, stable platform. Then I visualized the wind, generating lift.
I wanted it to carry small objects—a makeshift version of Aladdin's flying carpet, made entirely of earth.
The ground trembled, slowly coming together as it rose, carrying the small stone I had placed as a test. The platform floated for a few seconds—unstable, but solid.
A satisfied smile spread across my face.
That's it. Control. Precision. No waste.
I remembered how I had exhausted all my mana on the first day, and then, the next day, discovered something incredible: my mana had increased. Not just a little—it had grown exponentially, practically doubling what I had used before.
That changed everything.
From then on, I deliberately pushed my magic to its limit every day. The more I used and depleted my mana, the more it grew the next day. It was as if my capacity expanded the more I forced it.
Because of that, recreating the right sensation became almost automatic. Casting spells without incantations became easy.
With silent magic, I had to picture the entire process in my head—from the mental image to the exact flow of mana. It was inconvenient at first, but it came with a huge advantage: it drastically reduced casting time. Now I could cast spells several seconds faster than with incantations.
I also started experimenting with combinations the book didn't mention. Infusing a Water Ball with wind and fire, for example, created a spinning, heated sphere — almost like superheated vapor. When I tried it, I realized it wasn't as simple as it seemed: the water didn't rotate evenly, small ripples appeared on the surface, and the heat escaped in irregular bursts, causing the sphere to tremble slightly. It was still rough, but the potential was enormous.
Hmm…
If that combination worked, what if I tried something more ambitious?
My eyes fell on the small earth platform I had lifted earlier. A thought crossed my mind: what if I stepped on it? Made it levitate… and maybe even support my weight?
"Well, just thinking won't get me anywhere."
I fed more mana into my fingers, compressing the earth until it was firm enough, then increased the wind's force for lift. Slowly, the platform stabilized—solid and ready to support me.
I took a breath and stepped onto it.
For a moment, it felt like standing on a skateboard—the surface was firm but light, weighing maybe four kilos. I weighed around twelve to thirteen, so I needed to increase the wind's force to keep it from cracking under my weight.
The platform rose a few centimeters, but my control wavered. The earth trembled unevenly, throwing me off balance. I adjusted the wind and compression, and it stabilized again—firm and steady. I took another breath and continued rising slowly.
"Heheh—AAH!"
My arms flailed, searching for balance, but it was too late.
I lost control of the magic—and at the same time, my balance. My body tipped sideways. A sharp, sickening crack cut through the silence as my right-hand finger slammed against the floor.
A jolt shot up my arm, followed by a hot, throbbing pain that knocked the air out of me.
"Damn… that hurt!"
Groaning, I grabbed my finger with my other hand. My stomach dropped. It was bent at a clearly wrong angle.
"Eh?.. ARGH!"
"RUDY!"
The door burst open. Zenith rushed in, eyes wide when she saw my finger.
"What happened?!"
"I… fell."
She approached, examined it, and let out a heavy breath before murmuring something. A soft green glow emerged from her hand, easing part of the pain.
But then she looked around the room—scattered earth, strange shapes, remnants of the platform—and frowned.
"Rudy… tell me the truth. What happened here?!"
I swallowed. Looking at her face, I knew lying wouldn't work.
"I… was trying to make a floating earth platform."
Zenith blinked in surprise, then let out a long sigh.
"Rudy… you could've been hurt much worse. And look at the state of your room…"
Her gaze swept over the mess, torn between concern and that reluctant pride only she had. I noticed her hair was slightly messy and her clothes a bit disheveled—she must have rushed straight from the next room.
Mom… you're making me imagine weird things…
With a tired breath, she ran her hand through my hair.
"We'll deal with this tomorrow. Now rest. And no magic at night, understood?"
I nodded obediently, still feeling the throbbing pain in my finger.
---
The next morning, the decision had been made: my parents were going to hire a private tutor.
The news came when Zenith told Paul what had happened the night before. As expected, he hesitated at first, but my mother stood firm. She didn't want me getting hurt again out of carelessness. In the end, my father gave in.
The two of them went to the nearest town to arrange it.
But seriously…
"Why didn't they let me go with them?" I muttered, sitting on the stone wall surrounding the house.
I had never been to the nearby town—Roa. I'd learned the name once when I asked Lilia where she went to shop.
In fact, my knowledge of this world was quite shallow. All I had seen was this house, the yard, the small forest behind it, and the stone structure that served as a lookout point. I rarely went anywhere — I was always "studying."
It was like living inside a comfortable… yet limited bubble.
In my previous world, I hardly ever left my room—only when my friends called me or when my mother kicked me out, complaining about the mess.
Here, even trapped in the body of a three-year-old, I felt a restless curiosity. I wanted to see the streets, the carriages, the people, the merchants, the adventurers… I wanted to understand how this medieval society worked.
Well… it was partly my fault too. Ever since I started training magic, I barely even went around the house.
I let out a quiet breath, swinging my short legs against the wall.
Then I heard footsteps approaching along the path in front of the house.
I looked up.
Two figures appeared. The first was Laws, a friend of my father's. Walking beside him was a child, about three years old, with soft green hair that stood out even from a distance.
Laws' face was tense. The child… her face was red, her eyes watery, and she held her hands close to her chest as if she were in pain.
Laws noticed me and raised a hand in greeting, though the concern on his face remained.
"Ah, Rudeus! Good morning. Is your mother home?"
I shook my head.
"She went to town with my father. What happened?"
"I remembered Zenith is good with healing magic, so I came to ask for help."
"What happened—sorry, but… who is this child?"
Laws blinked, as if caught off guard by the question.
"My daughter."
The little girl looked at me with wide, teary eyes, still pressing her hands to her chest. She seemed shy… scared. Even so, she tried to form a small smile.
"M-my name is Sylphiette…" she murmured, her voice soft and trembling.
I smiled, trying to appear friendly.
"Heh, cute name. I'm Rudeus Greyrat. Nice to meet you. Don't worry, my mom's great at healing. She'll help you right away."
She nodded timidly, still holding her injured hands.
Laws gave a faint smile and gently placed a hand on her head.
"If it's not a bother, can we wait here until they get back? I don't want to take her home like this."
"Of course. You can come in. Lilia should be inside."
As Laws headed toward the door with Sylphiette beside him, I remained sitting on the wall for a few more seconds, watching them.
I had already practiced a bit of healing magic. It wasn't anything advanced, but it could ease minor pains and close superficial cuts. If it was just a light injury, I might be able to help right now.
Should I try?
The thought crossed my mind. It would be a good opportunity to test my limits… and maybe even impress a little. But if I did something too impressive for a three-year-old, it might raise suspicion.
I furrowed my brow slightly.
The memory of the previous night came back almost instantly: the pain, the discomfort… and how Zenith had acted without a second thought. She had just done it.
So why was I still standing there? I sighed and jumped off the wall, feeling my feet hit the ground with a light thud.
"Hey… wait a moment."
---
I led the two of them inside, and as soon as we entered, I called for Lilia. She appeared shortly after, as punctual as always.
"Lilia, could you get a damp cloth?" I asked, pointing to the little girl sitting in the chair.
"Understood. Please wait a moment."
She left immediately, efficient as ever.
I turned my attention back to Laws, who remained beside the girl, visibly tense.
"She got hurt, right? What happened?"
"Yes… it was a minor burn. She accidentally touched a hot pan."
Hmm… children that age were far too curious and clumsy. Any wrong move could cause trouble or pain. And thinking about it… I had also done plenty of things that worried my parents, both here and in my previous life. Maybe it was inevitable—growing up meant causing problems, one way or another.
I approached the chair and crouched in front of her.
"Can I take a look?"
Hesitant, she slowly extended both hands… and my heart almost skipped a beat.
The skin was red and swollen, with darker patches where the heat had hit harder. Small blisters were starting to form—nothing that threatened her hands, but definitely showing the severity of the burn. It wasn't minor. Without proper treatment, it would likely leave scars.
I took a deep breath.
"My mother taught me a few things," I said, trying to keep my tone casual. "It's nothing major, but… I think I can ease some of the pain."
I carefully held her little hands, feeling her small body tremble slightly. A faint green glow appeared at my fingertips.
I imagined the heat dissipating, the skin calming, the damage slowly reorganizing. It was like visualizing a gradual restoration, layer by layer. I had practiced this before when I lightly cut my own finger—but never on someone else's hands. I knew I could only affect the surface; whenever I tried to go deeper, my concentration failed.
Sylphiette flinched at first, surprised, but she didn't pull her hands away. Gradually, the tension in her face began to ease.
The redness didn't vanish completely, but it softened noticeably. The swelling decreased a little—enough to take away the sharpest pain. But I realized… this would leave scars. On both hands.
I exhaled slowly and let go of her hands, a bitter taste lingering in my mouth.
"There… that should help for now."
Sylphiette looked at her hands, opening and closing her fingers carefully. Then she lifted her eyes to me—still moist, but now with something different.
"Thank you…" she whispered softly.
"Heheh, you're welcome."
It's always nice to be praised… even when it comes from a child. Perhaps even more in this case. The way she looked at me—as if I had done something truly amazing—carried a different weight. Simple, direct… without a doubt.
And, to be honest, I liked it. I liked helping… and I liked impressing her.
"Rudeus, your father wasn't exaggerating…" He kept his gaze on her hands for a moment. "You helped a lot."
"It's nothing. I just did what I had to do."
I smiled, trying to appear calm, but my eyes couldn't help noticing the scars that would probably remain.
Part of me still felt good about it—the praise, the look, the reaction. But another part… couldn't shake off the bitter taste in my mouth.
My healing magic was at a beginner level. In the months I spent observing my mother, I tried to replicate what she did—and it worked. But in the end, nothing changed: the effect was the same, superficial. Without incantations, it was faster. That's all.
Damn… I was comparing myself to my mother again. I closed my eyes for a moment, shutting out the thought.
When I opened them again, my gaze drifted to another detail—her hair. A soft green shade, smooth, falling in gentle strands over her shoulders. Funny how something so simple could capture so much attention.
"Hey… your hair—"
"Thank you, Rudeus!" Laws quickly interrupted.
"Hm… don't worry. My mother would have done the same!"
A little later, Lilia appeared, holding the damp cloth exactly as I had instructed. She approached the chair where Sylphiette was sitting and, with calm movements, wrapped the little girl's hands. Sylphiette flinched slightly but stayed still.
Then Lilia paused for a moment. Her eyes, normally calm and neutral, fixated on the greenish hair.
…Hm?
Before I could dwell on it, Laws stood up quickly.
"Ah… thanks for your help, Rudeus. But I think we should be going. Sylphy's mother must be worried." He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
Sylphiette looked at him, then at me, still holding her hands wrapped in the damp cloth.
"T-thank you…" she murmured softly.
"You're welcome. Take care of that hand, okay?" I said, offering my best smile.
Laws nodded quickly and guided Sylphiette toward the door.
"Let's go then. Sorry for the trouble."
"I'll walk you to the gate," I said, standing up.
Laws hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. Sylphiette stayed close to him, holding the cloth carefully as we walked outside.
The short walk was quiet, filled only with the light sound of footsteps and the wind brushing through the grass. When we reached the gate, I looked up—and saw them: Paul and Zenith.
They were talking with someone, but something about that figure caught my attention.
It was a girl. Young, perhaps on the verge of adulthood, but there was something about her that didn't fully match that impression.
She wore a brown mage's cloak, holding a staff in one hand and a small suitcase in the other. The pointed hat cast a shadow over her face, but I could still see her blue hair tied in braids. Her eyes looked sleepy, as if waking from a light nap, but her posture remained firm.
I tilted my head slightly. Who could she be?
Before I could imagine more, Paul noticed us.
"Ah, Rudy! …Hm? Laws?"
Paul gave us a quick glance and motioned for him over with a hand.
"Sylphy, can you wait here for a bit?"
"Uhum." She nodded, lowering her head almost immediately.
The two adults began to converse, making the atmosphere calmer, but my attention couldn't leave the blue-haired girl. She stood there, seemingly serene, as if nothing around her could really affect her.
I glanced to the side and saw Sylphiette watching everything with restless eyes. But before I could get distracted, I heard Zenith calling me:
"Rudy, can you come here?"
"Huh? Oh… okay." I nodded, looking away from Sylphiette and reaching out my hand. "Come with me."
I took her hand carefully. Sylphiette flinched slightly, like a startled squirrel, but didn't let go.
As we walked toward my mother and the blue-haired girl, I felt her little hand tremble slightly against mine. She kept her gaze low, clearly uncomfortable with so many new people at once.
Zenith gave me a warm smile, though it carried a faint hint of worry.
"Rudy! Oh… Sylphiette…?"
"Mom, she burned herself…"
Before I could respond, the blue-haired girl turned her face toward us. Her sleepy eyes blinked slowly as she noticed Sylphiette. For a moment, something changed in her expression—a barely perceptible surprise, followed by a slight tremor in her hands.
…Alright, what's going on? Lilia had the same reaction.
Zenith crouched down to Sylphiette's level and smiled gently.
"Hello, dear. What happened?" she asked, noticing the bandaged hands.
"She just burned herself a little, but I managed it," I replied, trying to sound calm and innocent.
The next instant, Zenith stood up, maternal instinct taking over.
"Let me see those little hands!"
She approached and examined them delicately. A greenish glow appeared almost immediately—healing magic in action.
"Oh!" Zenith exclaimed in surprise, a relieved smile spreading across her face.
She looked at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and a hint of pride.
"Rudy… thank you! You took care of them by yourself?"
"Well, yes," I replied, shrugging with a shy smile.
However, I felt a different gaze resting on me. I looked up and noticed the blue-haired girl watching me closely. She furrowed her brow slightly.
"What do you mean by 'you took care of it'?"
"Eh?... Hm. What are you talking about? I… never said that."
She blinked, confused for a moment.
"Eh?… maybe I misheard."
She tilted her head, watching me with those sleepy eyes. For a moment, it seemed like she might let it go, but she murmured:
"I don't think a three-year-old can use magic, anyway."
I kept my face neutral, but inside I felt a slight irritation. She didn't even know me and was already drawing conclusions, as if age alone were a limitation.
She looked away, as if searching for someone.
"By the way… where's my student?"
Zenith smiled, amused, and rested a hand on my shoulder.
"This is Rudy. He's your student."
The blue-eyed girl fell silent for a few seconds, examining me from head to toe.
"…This boy?"
I tilted my head slightly.
"Any problem?"
She kept staring at me, as if trying to make sense of something that didn't add up. Fair enough—I probably would have reacted the same way. Still, the doubt in her eyes didn't disappear.
I let out a small sigh and slowly moved Sylphiette's hand away. Instead of standing still, I took a few steps until I was beside the blue-haired girl—the tutor my parents had brought.
"My name is Rudeus Greyrat," I said, looking directly at her with a polite but firm smile. "I assume you're the person here to teach me. I haven't heard your name yet."
"Roxy Migurdia."
I paused briefly, then took a few steps back and raised my gaze to the sky.
"May I?"
Without waiting for a clear answer, I lifted my hand. The sensation was familiar—but this time I went further.
First, I gathered a large amount of water, contained and firm, forming a sphere about seventy centimeters wide. Then, I wrapped it in a current of wind, making the surface spin on itself. Finally, I added heat — not a visible flame, but a growing thermal pressure, enough to make the sphere vibrate slightly.
The sphere floated above my palm, spinning slowly and unstably. A small ripple escaped from the surface, scattering fine droplets of water around, showing that my control was still imperfect. The released vapor wavered gently in the air around it.
It was still far from perfect.
I maintained control for a few seconds, adjusting the flow so it wouldn't collapse. Then I dispelled the magic. The sphere dissipated in a warm breath.
I lowered my hand and looked at her.
"Something simple like that," I said. "Should serve as an introduction."
Roxy stared, her expression shifting from sleepy to alert.
"You didn't recite an incantation. And… that looked like a combination of elements."
"Yes. Fire, water, and wind." I tried to keep my smile confident.
She furrowed her brow.
"But the spell is incorrect."
"What do you mean?"
"You'd need to reduce the volume of water so the rotation would be faster."
The smile on my face faltered.
"Ah… so that's what I was doing wrong."
Roxy gave a small, genuine smile.
"If that's your mistake, then I'll have to train you."
At first, she seemed a bit stern. That look of doubt in my ability annoyed me for a moment. But then I realized… I was the one who was wrong. She was right—she had pointed out exactly where my spell was failing.
Actually, I liked that. She didn't fake exaggerated surprise or get lost in empty praise. Simple, direct, honest—it was exactly what I needed to hear.
The atmosphere settled after that. Laws and Sylphiette said their goodbyes shortly afterward, leaving the house quiet. The afternoon breeze brought back a sense of calm, and I realized Roxy had officially been hired as my tutor.
---
That night, sitting on the floor of my room, I reflected on everything that had happened.
The day had been long. I gained a tutor, met a little green-haired girl who had burned herself… and ended up using healing magic to help her.
But the memory of the scar that would probably remain on her hand left a bitter taste in my mouth.
That was my fault. My healing magic is still too weak — I can only affect the surface. Whenever I try to go deeper, my concentration fails.
I sighed and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, training with Roxy begins. I won't make careless mistakes anymore. I won't settle for "almost good enough." I'll learn everything she can teach me.
And the next time someone gets hurt in front of me, I won't fail again.