"What now, sister?" he asked, keeping his eyes shut.
"Nothing," Leona replied calmly. "Just keep focusing. Concentrate. The mana will come to you when your mind is still and your body is ready. Let it happen—don't chase it."
Kael swallowed and nodded slightly.
Alright… focus… just feel…
He continued to wait, silently hoping to sense even a single wisp of that strange, glowing force.
1 minute...
2 minutes… 3… then 5—
and still, nothing.
Kael's focus began to slip. His thoughts spiraled.
Why is it not working? Am I doing something wrong? Or… maybe I don't even have the talent for this.
The creeping doubt darkened his heart like a shadow. His concentration shattered.
Suddenly, Leona's voice rang out, strong and clear, snapping him from the pit of his thoughts.
"Kael! Don't let your mind be clouded by worry. Calm yourself. That's the only way you'll ever sense it."
He flinched, but nodded slowly.
"Okay…" he whispered and took a deep breath.
Again he closed his eyes, pushing aside the self-doubt. He focused, just as she had said. Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. Still, the result remained unchanged. There was no warmth, no flicker. Just emptiness.
After maybe ten more minutes of silence, Leona gently clapped her hands.
"That's enough for today, Kael," she said warmly.
Kael opened his eyes, frustration brimming in them. "No, sister. I can continue," he insisted.
But Leona walked to him, smiling patiently, and ruffled his hair.
"No, Kael. Listen to your sister. The core is very delicate. If you force it beyond its limit before it even forms properly, it could rupture—and if that happens, it can explode."
Kael's mouth opened, then shut again. The fire of determination in him flickered, but he nodded.
"…Okay."
"There's no rush," she added. "We'll try again tomorrow."
It was his first taste of disappointment since arriving in this world.
Silent and thoughtful, Kael walked back toward the house with Leona. She offered a final smile before retreating to her room for rest. Left alone, Kael wandered through the halls with nothing to do.
The sting of failure lingered in his chest—but it wasn't enough to weigh him down completely.
After all, he still had tomorrow. And the day after that.
And this was how his days passed.
For the next three months, every spare moment they could steal, Kael and Leona trained. He followed her instructions diligently, repeated every breathing technique, every mana circulation method, every posture again and again.
But nothing came.
What once felt like the beginning of a great journey had slowly become a pit he couldn't climb out of. His earlier confidence—the idea that perhaps he was special, gifted even—died somewhere between the fourth and fifth week.
What remained was just hatred - for himself, for his existence.
Why am I here if I can't even do this?
What's the point of reincarnating into a world of magic if I'm just going to be useless again?
Leona, however, never gave up on him, not once. Her voice remained kind, and her smile just as bright each day. But even she could see the change in his eyes. The storm behind his silence.
And then came the day she had to leave.
On the morning of the third month's final week, Leona departed for the Royal Academy.
"I'll write to you, little brother," she said softly, ruffling his hair one last time. "Don't give up. Even if the rest of the world does, I won't."
He didn't cry.
He just stood there as her figure faded down the road.
Then he was alone.
The house grew quieter, emptier. Meals were fewer, colder. The training field behind the barn went untouched. Days blurred into one another as Kael moved through them like a ghost.
He no longer tried to sense mana.
What was the point?
At night, he would stare up at the stars, remembering the stories Leona once told him—of sword saints who carved through mountains, mages who bent the sky to their will, and heroes who rose from nothing.
But even stories couldn't pierce the heaviness in his chest anymore.
Still, somewhere in the deep, dark silence of one sleepless night… something stirred.
Something small. Something strange.
And Kael sat up, blinking.
Had he imagined it?
He didn't know, but that was enough to pull him back from the edge.
Hope flickered once more within him and so, Kael rose.
Each morning, he returned to the patch of ground behind the barn. He repeated the stances. He breathed as Leona had taught him—slow, steady, with focus sharpened like a blade. He listened to the world with his whole being.
There were no shortcuts. No sudden miracles.
But something changed.