Chapter Two (Literal Translation)
Only a few days had passed since that morning the morning when everything changed inside the old church and the small village surrounding it. Yet what happened did not pass like ordinary days.
It was not just a moment where Yuno displayed extraordinary talent before the villagers, nor was it merely a situation where Asta failed to show any magical power.
To the villagers, it may have seemed simple: a child blessed with mana to the extent that lightning descended from the sky to embrace his body, and another child who stood before them helpless, empty-handed, with nothing to justify his existence in a world that recognizes only those who possess magic.
But for Asta, what happened was not just a passing embarrassment or mocking looks that could be forgotten.
It felt like something inside him had collapsed something he had been building in silence since childhood. Every time he and Yuno grew up together, every time he imagined that one day they would stand side by side, equal, walking the same path toward the same dream.
That morning, Asta realized for the first time…
that the world which once smiled at him in his imagination might not open its doors to him at all.
From that moment on, the village no longer seemed the same in his eyes.
The voices of people that used to pass by unnoticed now became clear and sharp like knives.
Every conversation he heard in the market, near the well, in front of the fields, or even inside the church courtyard was about Yuno.
The villagers, who had lived for years in fear, weakness, and marginalization, had finally found something to hold onto.
They spoke of Yuno as if he were a promise sent from the sky to save them from their miserable lives, their helplessness, and the looks of contempt they received from people of other regions.
No one spoke about Asta unless it was for comparison and whenever comparison appeared, cruelty followed.
On a cold, gray morning, Asta sat alone behind the church, in the place he always escaped to when he wanted to get away from the noise.
The old stone wall behind him was rough and cold, but its coldness was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his chest.
He sat with his head lowered, staring at his palms as if they were something unfamiliar.
He slowly opened his right hand… then closed it… then opened it again.
He repeated the motion several times not because he expected a different result, but because he didn't know what else to do.
He wanted to feel something.
Anything.
A small spark… a slight sting… a warm pulse of mana, even if it was weak.
But he felt nothing except a painful silence.
He raised his head slightly and stared at the pale sky between the tree branches, then said in a low voice barely audible even to himself:
"How is this possible?"
His voice lingered in the air for a moment… then vanished without an answer.
He bit his lower lip and clenched his fingers tightly until his knuckles turned white.
The images of that day kept returning mercilessly:
Yuno standing in the courtyard, light bursting from his body, the ground trembling, the sky splitting, and people looking at him with admiration that bordered on worship.
Then Asta…
standing in the same place minutes later, surrounded by the same eyes but without light, without thunder, without anything.
Only a faint black flicker that appeared and vanished as if mocking him.
Then silence.
Then whispers.
Then laughter.
He lowered his head again and whispered bitterly:
"Even the younger children have magic… even those who do nothing but mock me… they have something. So why me?"
At that moment, he heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.
He didn't need to turn immediately to know it wasn't Father Orsi or Sister Lily Aquaria.
Those footsteps carried a certain kind of cheap confidence the kind that comes from someone who knows the person before him is weaker in the eyes of others.
Asta slowly raised his head and turned halfway, seeing a man from the village.
A middle-aged man.
Broad-shouldered.
With a hardened face and a mocking look Asta had always hated.
The man stopped a few steps away and let out a short sigh.
"So… you're still here? I thought you wouldn't show yourself for a few days after what happened."
Asta didn't reply.
He looked back at the ground, as if trying to convince himself that ignoring the man would make him disappear.
But the man stepped closer until his shadow fell over the boy's face.
He bent slightly, placed his hands on his knees, and said with a cold smile:
"You know… maybe it's better if you stop trying. Some people are born to be ordinary… and some are born to be less than ordinary. You… seem to be the second kind."
Asta's jaw trembled, but he didn't move.
The words entered his chest like nails driven slowly into wood.
The man continued, looking at Asta's open hands:
"For years you've been shouting that you'll become strong, that you'll become the Wizard King, that you'll surpass Yuno, that you'll prove yourself to everyone. But in the end, what did the world show us? The truth. Yuno has the blessing of the heavens… and you have nothing."
Asta slowly lifted his head.
His eyes were red—not from crying, but from the anger he was trying to contain.
The man noticed and smirked even more.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. The church can barely feed the children, Father Orsi struggles every day to keep it standing, and Sister Lily exhausts herself for everyone. And then there's you… a child with no magic, who can't help himself or anyone else. What do you call that if not a burden?"
Something changed in Asta at that moment.
Not dramatically but clearly.
As if something broke…
or something else awakened.
He placed his hand on the ground and slowly pushed himself up until he stood before the man.
He was much shorter.
Younger.
Weaker in appearance.
But when he raised his head, the man's smile faltered for a moment.
Asta said in a low, sharp voice:
"Are you done?"
The man stepped back slightly without meaning to.
"What?"
"I asked… are you done talking? Because I'm tired of hearing the same garbage every time."
The man's eyes widened slightly.
He hadn't expected that response.
Asta continued, unwavering:
"I may not have magic today. I may have failed in front of all of you. And you may be happy that you've found someone new to mock. But that doesn't mean it's over."
The man let out a short laugh.
"Oh? Then what does it mean?"
Asta clenched his fist tightly, his small arm trembling.
"It means I will become strong despite you. Whether my power awakens tomorrow, or in a year, or in ten years it doesn't matter. I will find it. I will awaken it. I will get my grimoire."
He lifted his head.
"And I will become… the Wizard King."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then
Laughter exploded.
The man laughed loudly, drawing the attention of passersby, who soon joined in.
"The Wizard King?!"
"He doesn't even have mana!"
"Let him dream that's all he has!"
More people gathered.
More laughter.
But Asta didn't lower his head.
He stood firm.
Staring at them.
As if engraving their faces into his memory turning this moment into a fire to feed on in the future.
Tears shimmered in his eyes.
But they didn't fall.
They stayed trapped… behind stubborn anger.
Then
Something strange happened.
At first, Asta thought it was his heartbeat growing louder.
But it wasn't.
It was another voice.
Deep.
Distant.
Yet close at the same time.
A voice that didn't come from outside… but from somewhere deep inside his chest.
"Let them laugh."
Asta froze.
Everything disappeared for a moment.
"Who… is there?!"
The villagers paused, confused.
"He's talking to himself now," the man said mockingly.
But Asta ignored them.
The voice returned clearer.
"I told you… let them laugh. One day, they will kneel."
Asta gasped and placed his hand over his chest.
A strange coldness spread through his body not like the cold of morning, and not quite like fear.
It carried something else…
something powerful.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
"I am…" the voice paused, almost smiling, "…something you have been searching for."
Asta's pupils trembled.
Before he could respond
"Asta!" called Sister Lily Aquaria from afar.
The voice vanished instantly.
As if it had never existed.
"I'm… fine," Asta said hoarsely.
But he wasn't.
Elsewhere in the village…
Yuno sat quietly at the edge of a field under a pale sun.
He was no longer surrounded by mockery—but by admiration.
People praised him.
Asked him about his power.
Treated him like a savior.
Outwardly, he remained calm.
But inside
He wasn't.
He stared at his hand.
"…Is this power really mine?"
He could feel mana everywhere.
In the wind.
In the earth.
In everything.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
He touched the blue necklace around his neck.
"Where did you come from…?"
Then
"I finally found you."
Yuno froze.
A man stepped out from the trees.
Dangerous.
Greedy.
"That necklace… is mine."
Yuno stepped back.
"No. It isn't."
The man smiled.
"That's exactly why I want it."
Suddenly
Roots shot from the ground.
Wrapping around Yuno.
"Binding Magic."
The man approached slowly.
"That necklace is worth more than your entire village."
"Don't touch it!"
But the man did.
And
Light exploded.
Blinding.
Violent.
The roots burned away.
Lightning surged through Yuno.
"I… can feel it…"
"…I can see it."
Energy formed in his hand
A spear of lightning.
"I told you… don't touch it."
He moved like the wind.
The spear struck
Lightning exploded.
The man collapsed.
Screaming.
Yuno kept attacking
Until
"Stop!"
Silence.
The man fled.
Yuno stood alone.
Breathing heavily.
"…So if someone with mana touches it… my power awakens automatically."
The necklace pulsed warmly.
Alive.
Elsewhere…
Asta punched a tree again and again.
"I will become strong!"
"I won't be a burden!"
He collapsed.
Exhausted.
Then
The voice returned.
"Your body is weak… but your will is not."
Asta stood up.
"Show yourself!"
"Why are you talking to me?!"
"Because you've been calling me… for a long time."
"I just want to know why I'm different!"
"You are not like them."
"I KNOW THAT! I don't have magic!"
The voice laughed.
Cold.
Ancient.
"That's what they think."
"But the truth… is far greater."
Asta swallowed.
"What truth?"
The forest grew cold.
Shadows shifted.
Then
"You do not lack power, Asta…"
"You only lack the key."
A black flicker appeared.
The same one from that day.
But now
It didn't disappear.
It twisted like living darkness.
Asta stepped back slightly.
Heart pounding.
The voice whispered
"Come closer…"
"And I will show you… who you truly are."