Magic Practice

It was a rare sunny day.

First thing in the morning, I stood in front of the calendar, yawned, and drew a circle with a red pen, lamenting that another day of my life had slipped away. This had already become my daily waking ritual.

Anyone would do this when they realized they had so little time left to live.

It was a constant reminder of how pressing time was, and how none of it could be wasted.

But honestly, my favorite philosophy is still that when a person looks back on their life, they do not regret having wasted their years... It's from How the Steel Was Tempered. Truth be told, I've read it twice, and I highly respect the philosophy in it.

I'm getting sidetracked.

The circles on the calendar were divided into small red circles and big red circles.

Just to mention, the date inside the big circle was next February, with a tiny note written next to it: Royal Grammar Academy Entrance Ceremony.

Yes, that's the school this pal of yours is going to.

In a year, I will walk through the gates of that academy. And then, I will meet the heroine, Liliana.

A commoner girl who held the title "Light of Healing," she was the heroine of the game—a heartstealer loved by all the capture targets. She was also the one whom the original owner of this body relentlessly bullied, and who ultimately sent the original Loris to her death with her own hands.

Haha.

Okay, I actually can't laugh.

As for the small red circles, they were a record of what I had been doing recently—something I hadn't mentioned yet, but was very important.

...

Half an hour later, I finished washing up and eating breakfast.

“Miss.”

Shirune's voice came from behind me. “The court mage has arrived. He is waiting for you in the study.”

“...Understood.”

I took one last look at the red circle on the calendar, then stood up and followed her.

The study was massive.

Dark oak bookshelves stretched from the floor to the ceiling, packed with ancient books with gilded spines. Most of them were magic texts collected by generations of the Aldheim family, having accumulated about a hundred years' worth of dust.

The window faced south, allowing sunlight to stream through the glass, painting a bright square on the floor. Fine dust particles drifted through the air, slowly swirling within the beam of light.

The court mage stood beside the desk.

He was a middle-aged man dressed in a deep purple robe, with a silver Mage Association badge pinned to his collar. He was a bit bald on top, and his remaining hair was combed into a style that attempted—and completely failed—to cover his bald spot. He wore half-moon spectacles, and the eyes behind the lenses were small but sharp.

His name was Teacher Morris.

I met with him twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday mornings, for two hours each time. This schedule was strictly enforced.

This was just a microcosm of my noble life.

“Miss Loris,” he said with a slight nod.

“Teacher Morris,” I replied, lifting the hem of my skirt to curtsy. Ah, I no longer felt embarrassed by this; instead, it felt as natural as breathing.

Lately, I had actually grown to enjoy looking at myself from the perspective of observing a heroine. In other words, practicing self-love, or narcissism. This way, I actually liked my appearance and figure more, and didn't reject them.

Humans, after all, must make peace with life.

“Today, we will continue with last week's material,” he said, pulling a heavy book from the shelf, placing it on the desk, and flipping to a certain page. “Regarding the distribution of magical beasts in the southern part of the continent.”

“Last time, we discussed the habitat of the griffins. Today, we will talk about wyverns.”

Having said that, he pushed up his glasses with an intellectual air.

I sat at the desk, hands properly placed on the surface, my spine perfectly straight.

—And then I began to space out.

Who in their right mind doesn't daydream during class? Especially when it's knowledge I have zero interest in. Though saying that might sound like heresy—after all, this is magic we're talking about! There is magic in this world!

But to be perfectly honest, I had absolutely no interest in the habitat of wyverns.

And Teacher Morris never taught me actual magic.

Everything he taught was "magic pop-science." What is magic pop-science? It's telling you that magic, dragons, elves, and magical beasts exist in this world—but never teaching you how to use magic. It was like someone bringing you to the entrance of a buffet, reading the menu to you for two hours, and then saying, "Alright, that's all for today's class," before spinning around and leading you away.

Truly despicable, isn't it?

I had been taking these magic pop-science classes for nearly two months. I knew there were seventeen species of magical beasts in the southern continent, I knew that wyvern venom could be used to brew potions, and I knew that the elves' magic affinity was three times that of humans.

But I couldn't even conjure a tiny spark.

Un. Ac. Cept. A. Ble.

“—Miss Loris.”

Teacher Morris's voice snapped me back to reality.

“...Yes.”

“You were spacing out.”

“...My apologies.”

I was actually completely insincere, and he could tell.

Teacher Morris sighed, removing his spectacles to wipe them.

“Miss Loris, I know you might not be very interested in this theoretical knowledge, but please understand that magic is not a toy. Before the coronation ceremony, noble children are not supposed to carelessly attempt to cast spells. This has been the kingdom's tradition for hundreds of years.”

“Why?” I asked, as if learning something new.

About this world.

“Because it is unstable,” he said, putting his spectacles back on. “The mana circuits are not yet fully matured. Forcing yourself to cast spells could cause irreversible damage to your mana core.”

“Therefore, your current task is to build a solid theoretical foundation. Once the coronation ceremony is over and your mana circuits are fully matured, at that time—”

“I can learn real magic?” I interrupted haughtily. Don't call me impolite; I was merely maintaining my character persona.

“...Yes,” he said.

I nodded and asked no further questions.

But I couldn't help but find it absurd in my heart, because I had actually been practicing "using mana" recently. Although I couldn't even conjure a tiny spark, it was a different kind of magic.

This was more than enough to prove there was absolutely no issue.

More on that later.

After Teacher Morris left, I returned to my room and quietly closed the door.

Then, I dragged a small wooden box out from under the bed.

The wooden box was roughly the size of a pillow, with a plain surface and an iron handle that was slightly worn and shiny.

I opened the box, which contained several ancient books.

To be precise, they were ancient books I had secretly scavenged from the old library of the Aldheim family. Just like how Mondo goes where he pleases, I was pretty much the same. As one of the top noble families in the kingdom, the Aldheim family had an old library in their manor dedicated to storing magic texts collected over generations.

It was located deep within the west wing, a place where no one usually went and even servants rarely passed by. I had discovered it during a casual "stroll."

Probably because no one would ever think a young noble lady would be interested in those dust-covered ancient books.

So when I asked the butler for the key, it actually went quite smoothly.

I was incredibly interested.

But once I brought them back, I naturally had to hide them well so the servants wouldn't find them. Thus, like hiding embarrassing magazines, I kept them in a box under my bed. I would read through them here, memorize the contents, and then sneak outside to practice.

I pulled out the top book.

The cover was dark brown leather with faded corners, with several gilded words stamped on it. The text recorded inside actually wasn't in the writing of this world.

It was Simplified Chinese.

That's right. Simplified Chinese.

The first time I flipped this book open, I practically rubbed my eyes in disbelief. Later, I searched the entire old library and found over a dozen ancient books written in the same Simplified Chinese.

So I just rolled with it.

The contents were incredibly diverse, ranging from basic mana theory to crop ripening, from elementary alchemy to a guide on taming magical beasts, and there was even a copy of How to Solve Daily Life Problems with Magic in Another World (Volume 1).

I spent an entire afternoon reading through the first few dozen pages.

Inside, there were guides like "How to dry freshly washed hair with wind magic," "How to boil water with fire magic," and "How to till the soil with earth magic."

Extremely practical.

Thumbs up.

The person who wrote that book was probably a transmigrator too, and a very lazy one at that.

But because people in this world couldn't read Simplified Chinese at all, they treated it as ancient script to be deciphered. They had their own writing system, which I naturally knew after inheriting this body's memories.

I flipped Basic Principles and Practice of Nourishing Crops with Magic to the place I had left off last time, then read quickly to commit it to memory. Less than ten minutes passed.

Knock, knock. A knock sounded at the door.

Great, time for another class. This was a microcosm of my busy and oppressive life.

...

An hour later.

Sorry, everyone, I had to step away for a bit.

Back in my room, acting stealthily, I brought down an object from the balcony—a small clay flowerpot.

This was my subject for magic practice.

Planted inside the clay pot was an apple sapling, about fifteen centimeters tall. Its stem was thin, topped with a few tender green leaves that swayed gently in the sunlight streaming through the window.

By the way, this was the result of my efforts last week.

It started as a seed, and now it had grown.

I placed the apple sapling on the windowsill, sat cross-legged on the chair next to the window, suspended my hands over the sapling, and closed my eyes.

Mana.

Frankly, even now, I wasn't entirely sure what mana actually was. Teacher Morris said that mana is a form of energy within living organisms, alongside physical strength and mental power, serving as a medium for humans to communicate with nature.

The reason nobles were nobles was that they were born with mana in their bloodlines.

Occasionally, commoners with a talent for mana would appear—like Liliana—but those were mutations.

The Aldheim bloodline was by no means weak; they had produced outstanding mages for generations.

Although Father rarely returned to the manor, he held a vital position in the Royal Capital and was himself a magic swordsman ranked among the best in the kingdom.

Not to mention Mother, who hailed from an ancient magic family in the North. It was said that in her youth, she had single-handedly slain a frost dragon.

Of course, that was just a rumor.

Old folks love to embellish their pasts. But considering how distant the relationship between the two old folks in this world was, let's just leave it at that.

I closed my eyes and focused my attention between my hands. It was a very subtle sensation, like a warm mist rising from my chest, slowly flowing along my arms to my fingertips, and finally gathering in my palms.

The ancient book said that the sensation of mana flow varied from person to person.

Some felt it was like flowing water, some like fire, and some like wind. To me—it felt like hot water.

Specifically, the kind of feeling where you've just opened a can and bubbles come bubbling up from the bottom.

It flowed and circulated very naturally, feeling slightly warm.

I slowly guided the "hot water" in my palms toward the apple sapling. The method described in the ancient book was very simple:

Since it was written in Simplified Chinese, I had absolutely no trouble reading it. To the nobles of this world, those squiggly Simplified Chinese characters probably looked like gibberish. They couldn't understand them.

But I could, which was probably one of my few advantages as a transmigrator.

The warmth in my palms slowly flowed out, seeping into the stem and leaves of the apple sapling. I could feel the mana being absorbed bit by bit by the plant's cells, like parched soil drinking its fill. And then—the apple sapling began to grow.

Because I was forbidden and could only practice secretly in my room, and because I didn't want to draw attention, I could only cultivate non-lethal magic.

The stem slowly thickened, growing from the width of a toothpick to that of a pencil. The tender green leaves unfurled and darkened, turning from light green to emerald, their veins clearly visible in the sunlight.

Next, new leaf buds sprouted from the top of the stem, curling before slowly unfurling. Its height grew from fifteen centimeters to about twenty, and it kept going.

Drenched in sweat, I struggled to control my mana circuits.

The mana inside my body was gradually depleting.

It was a strange feeling—not tiredness or sleepiness, but an emptiness welling up from deep within my body. It was like taking the last sip of a soda, leaving nothing but air inside the can.

Ultimately, I lay down on the floor,

gasping for breath, sweat coating my forehead and my back slightly damp.

If anyone saw me in this unseemly state, I would be lectured for at least an hour.

But in my heart, I was thrilled.

Last week, I could only make the apple sapling grow a tiny bit. This week, I had managed to make it grow five centimeters and sprout two new leaves.

As for right now—

The stem suddenly shot up, jumping from twenty centimeters straight to half a meter. Leaves unfurled frantically, one after another, as if someone were fast-forwarding a video of plant growth.

Branches split and extended to both sides, tender green leaves covering the entire windowsill. A tiny flower bud swelled at the tip of the highest branch.

The bud slowly expanded, and white petals bloomed one by one, looking like a tiny star in the sunlight.

Soon after, the petals withered and fell.

A tiny, green fruit began to swell on the receptacle.

My mana was now completely depleted. The last trace of warmth slipped from my fingertips, and I lay on the floor in a completely unseemly manner, my arms limp at my sides, lacking even the strength to lift a hand.

But I didn't close my eyes. I stared at the green fruit. It grew from the size of a fingernail to that of a walnut, turning from green to pale yellow, and from pale yellow to—red.

Then, it detached from the branch.

And rolled right next to my foot.

Thud.

“...Haha.”

Magic really is amazing, isn't it?

Making a tiny sapling rapidly grow, bloom, and bear fruit.

I let out a laugh, then closed my eyes and collapsed completely onto the floor.

Actually, I forgot to mention, I discovered this about last month—

My mana capacity can be increased.

The common knowledge in this world's nations is: mana capacity is determined during the first test at [an age not permitted to be described without review], and cannot be changed for the rest of one's life.

What can be improved later on is only "magic attainment"—meaning casting techniques, mana control precision, and magic circle deciphering abilities. But the mana capacity itself—the upper limit that determines how many times you can cast Fireball, how long you can maintain a barrier, and how much you can achieve before running out of mana—is fixed.

At least, it is fixed after the semi-adulthood coronation ceremony. But what about before the coronation ceremony? No one has tried.

Because the kingdom's tradition is to prevent noble children from accessing real spellcasting before then. After all, using it when the mana circuits are immature can harm the body. I've had my fair share of nosebleeds and fainting spells during this period.

But I wasn't afraid, because I didn't have time! I only had a few years. If one doesn't work hard in youth, they will grieve in vain in old age.

The ancient book said: Mana is like muscle; the more you use it, the stronger it gets.

But this only applies before the mana circuits close.

So that transmigrator predecessor probably discovered the exact same thing. Oh, raising a character from youth!

I had already been practicing diligently like this, exhausting my mana to the last drop every time, for quite a while now. If I kept practicing like crazy for another year, my future self might turn out to be terrifyingly powerful.

That should also allow me to alter some of the plot events, right?

At this thought, I panted as I stared at the ceiling, the corners of my mouth curving upward. The apple tree occupied half the windowsill, its lush branches and leaves cutting the sunlight into countless tiny fragments.

The bright red apple rolled next to my hand, its skin smooth, gleaming with a faint waxy luster.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

I scrambled up in a panic, feeling as if a formidable enemy had arrived. In a flurry, I yelled, “Don't come in!” while shoving everything under the bed, very much like a kid hiding magazines when their parents walk in.

“Miss,” came Shirune's voice. “Are you inside? I just felt a strong mana fluctuation—”

“I'm fine!”

But ultimately, the door opened.

Shirune walked in, carrying her knightly sword with a serious expression. As my personal guardian, she naturally had to investigate such matters rigorously.

Her silvery-white ponytail swayed gently behind her. Her gaze first landed on me—sitting in the chair in a rather unladylike posture, drenched in sweat and pale-faced, looking like a fish washed ashore.

Then, her gaze shifted to the windowsill.

At the half-meter-tall apple tree, its foliage lush, with a few white flowers that had not yet withered still hanging from its branches.

Her tail slowly spun in confusion.

“Miss.”

“Yes?”

“What is this?”

“An apple tree.”

“I know it's an apple tree,” she said, her voice slightly lower than usual. “I am asking, how did this apple tree appear in your room?”

Ahahaha, hitting the nail right on the head, are we?

I picked up the apple resting on my lap and took a bite. Crunch. The flesh was crisp, the juice bursting in my mouth with a perfect balance of sweet and sour, carrying the fresh aroma of a fruit newly plucked from the branch.

The mana in my body was completely exhausted, so she shouldn't be able to tell, right? But then again, maybe she could.

In any case, I needed to play it off.

After all, practicing magic at this age was strictly forbidden.

“Alright, we shouldn't delve any deeper into this topic.” Hoping to get her to keep my secret, I blinked at her innocently.

I liked to think we had a pretty good relationship.

At least, that was what I believed. After all, I had her personality completely figured out: a slightly sensitive but outwardly tough half-demon girl. I could just throw some excuses her way, and if that didn't work, I could get a little physical—lift her chin with my finger and tease her, saying, “I am the master your family is bound to protect for generations; how dare you speak to me like that?” By putting on a serious and haughty act, she would obediently comply.

Truth be told, I wasn't even tall enough. To lift her chin or pin her against the wall, I would have to stand on my tiptoes and make her lower her head.

But surely I'd be able to do it once I grew up, right?

After all, as a long-lived species, she barely changed. Over the next year, who knows, maybe I'd end up taller than her.

For now, Shirune's gaze shifted back and forth between the apple tree, the apple in my hand, and my pale face.

Then, she respectfully backed out, sheathing her sword.

“I will go fetch some water for you.”

But after she stepped out...

Her small tail traced a bewildered arc in the air. Although she could guess some of it, she found it hard to believe. After all, this was far too bizarre—her mana circuits shouldn't have matured yet...

Her tail swayed gently behind her.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

It seemed I had to be more careful with my practice in the future. I should probably find a different location. Still, I wondered how much mana capacity I currently possessed, to make a sapling grow, bloom, and bear fruit in just half a minute.

It should be quite impressive, right?

But I'll probably get even stronger in the future. After all, I plan to practice my mana every day. Right now, I'm increasing my maximum mana limit, and practicing until exhaustion seems to yield better results.

When the time comes and everyone else takes the test, what will my mana look like?

I don't know, but my effort and sweat will answer everything! Ohhhhh! To be honest, I really look forward to things like otherworld adventures and magic!

I want to use magic to go on adventures outside. Being some noble young lady is no fun at all; I want to cuddle with elf girls.

But first, I have to survive.

I turned the apple around and took another wistful bite. Crunch. It really was sweet.

(Voiceover: Afterward, Shirune spent a long time in the old library. She flipped through records of geniuses one by one, trying to find some clues. Eventually, she found a page depicting a diagram of human meridians, marking the paths of mana flow. After some thought, she folded the corner of that page.

“Miss Loris seems to have always wanted to practice magic. Should I show this to her? If she really is... she would count as a genius, right? The Duke would also be pleased... No... not necessarily, considering what a cold person he is.”)