The library of the Ashfield mansion. A sanctuary of silence, knowledge, and antiquity. The columns were adorned with carvings of ancestral dragons that, according to legends, guarded the wisdom of the world. Each bookshelf seemed to breathe a dense air of history and mystery, and the soft scent of ancient parchment floated through the room like an invisible mist.
Reinhard Ashfield, appearing only three years old, though with a mind that had contained eras of power and reign, flipped through one of the magical books he had found hidden in one of the sections on ancient magic with a sharp gaze.
The book, bound in blue leather with inscriptions in a magical language long forgotten by most modern people, vibrated softly with a faint energy. It was as if its contents were still alive, as if the words written within it retained part of the mana of those who had used it before.
As his fingers brushed over one of the pages, Reinhard murmured to himself with a faint tone of satisfaction:
—So… there are still books that explain this with precision.
The letters glimmered faintly as he read. The text spoke of the flow of mana, that vital and invisible essence circulating within every living being. That concept, though basic for any magic practitioner, was treated here with almost academic depth, breaking down the theory from its most essential foundations.
The flow of mana —according to the text— was a dual phenomenon that upheld the very structure of magic in this world, also serving as a pillar of magical practice, functioning as an omnipresent concept in the universe.
On one hand, there was the internal flow, residing within the body of the living being, more specifically in its vital core, a sphere of energy located near the spiritual heart, invisible to the common eye but perceptible by advanced users.
This core allowed mana to be stored like a chalice, but its volume was limited by the physical, emotional, and spiritual constitution of the individual.
The concept of mana was like an extensive river running through the body of the living being, branching throughout the body like an infinite tree, with the vital core serving as a source to keep mana flowing and available for use.
On the other hand, the external flow of mana constituted the invisible network that connected everything in the universe. Like underground rivers running through invisible veins, this energy enveloped the world constantly and flowed especially strongly in zones of magical concentration, such as dungeons, ancient temples, or divine sanctuaries. Using the external flow correctly allowed a user to minimize the depletion of their internal reserves and was considered a higher art in magic academies.
Reinhard leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and said while analyzing softly:
—Of course, these are the basic foundations… Mana is not just a resource, it is a fundamental law of existence. It is the bridge between the visible and the invisible, between the physical and the spiritual… Mana is being. A metaphysical truth that most barely comprehend.
In his past life, as the Great Demon King Azrael Noctem Cael'Zar, he had taught such lessons to his most loyal disciples: infernal archons, faceless sages, and eternal sorcerers who likely still roamed the underworld or guarded the gates of his kingdom. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting a sigh escape his lips with nostalgia:
—Speaking of them… what are they doing now? Although… of course… they are immortal. They cannot die from time or illness. —He shook his head immediately, as if awakening from a dream. He lightly slapped his own cheeks and murmured—. Focus, Reinhard! You are an Ashfield now, not a Demon King… for now.
Turning the page, the light of the oil lamp flickered slightly, casting dancing shadows over the open book. In the next section, the text spoke of the levels of mana flow, classifications used to measure the density, color, and vibrational frequency of magical energy. According to the grimoire, there were four fundamental levels:
Level 1 – Beginner: White Mana. Its density is the lightest, suitable for minor spells such as lighting a flame or healing a scrape. Common in apprentices and children.
Level 2 – Intermediate: Pink Mana. Its vibrational tone is warmer, used for higher-level spells such as minor summons or defensive barriers.
Level 3 – Elite: Blue Mana. Denser in nature, it could power magical weapons, summon medium-sized creatures, and modify complex spell structures.
Level 4 – Master (also called Perfect): Dark Red Mana. Its flow was powerful, violent, and stable at the same time. It was the pinnacle achievable for ordinary humans.
Reinhard murmured calmly as he reviewed the lines:
—I mastered all four when I still commanded the armies of the Abyss… but even then, I sought more… a higher peak.
And there, at the bottom of the page, was a fifth level, one more mysterious and almost legendary:
Level 5 – Enlightened: Golden Mana. An extremely rare flow. Only those with a pure soul, free of hatred, desire, and violence, could access it. It was not just about power, but spiritual harmony and being itself.
—Even that fifth level is little for those who lack positive feelings, something most living beings do not have, completely lacking good sentiments, especially humans in particular.
The fifth level also had a second name given by humans: those who reached it were better known as Transcendent, users who had transcended their vital core and mana flow, taking it to an inaccessible point of being itself.
Reinhard furrowed his brow, letting out a small sarcastic laugh.
—Very cheesy… I never liked that nonsense about "illumination mana." I never reached it. But I didn't need it either… I… created my own flow. One designed exclusively for demons. For beings who knew neither compassion nor limits.
He paused for a few seconds. He observed his own hands, still so small. The body of a child. Fragile… but with a core beginning to awaken. A weak vessel, but one day —he knew for certain— it would again house that power.
—Although… now that I am in a human body, that infernal flow might not be accessible to me —he reflected—. I will have to rediscover the path… or create a new one.
Suddenly, another memory surfaced from the void of his mind. A monk, a humble-looking man, skin weathered by years and eyes like rings of golden light, warm and serene. Reinhard had faced him centuries ago. His power was unfathomable… and his mana flow, golden, calm, and pure.
—Not even the Hero of the Holy Sword had that —he said softly—. That monk… was truly an enigma. Perhaps the only one who really understood what golden mana was.
Reinhard sighed, closed the book with reverence, and hugged it to his chest for a moment. His eyes looked up at the tall ceiling of the library, as if searching for answers among the carved stone veins.
—The world has changed —he said finally—. But I have too. This time… I will not make the same mistakes I did in my past life.
In an instant, the Ashfield mansion was so silent that the sound of a quill falling would have echoed like thunder. Reinhard, appearing only three years old in this new human body, sat cross-legged on an embroidered cushion under the soft light filtering through the stained glass. His breathing was slow. Calm. Steady. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the only visible movement in the entire room.
—Very well… —he whispered to himself firmly, closing his eyes—. It's time to try. Let's see what my flow level is.
His voice, though soft, sounded determined. Reinhard Ashfield placed both hands on his legs and assumed a meditation posture. Inside his mind, the darkness began to give way to abstract forms of energy. Like roots floating in the void, like rivers without beds flowing in uncertain directions.
—I need to connect with the flow of mana —he thought to himself, letting himself be absorbed by the inner vision—. That living energy that spreads like infinite branches… a tree inside me… an eternal river that springs from my vital core…
The silence transformed into a silent symphony. Within his consciousness, Reinhard perceived the soft, pulsating shapes of the mana flow rivers. They flowed slowly, as if observing him in return. He concentrated. He breathed deeply. Exhaled without anxiety. With each breath, he felt the flow coming closer to him.
—The mana level… —he murmured within his mind—. That determines a user's capacity. The higher the color and density of the flow, the greater the magical talent. Even in this weak human body… I cannot expect to reach the highest level on the first try.
A faint glow appeared in his chest. A flicker, almost imperceptible at first. His vital core —the center of his magical energy— lit up like a hidden star among clouds. Reinhard stretched his hand within his inner vision and touched the glow.
—What is my level…? —he whispered, with a slight tremor of excitement.
Suddenly, like a waterfall breaking through rocks, a torrent of energy surged forth. Reinhard opened his eyes, and before him, the internal mana river changed color. From white, it evolved into a soft, warm, and serene pink hue.
—Pink…? —he muttered with a faint grimace—. Not bad for the first time… and with the body of a human child.
He observed how his skin seemed to glow with that pink tint. He was enveloped in palpable, living energy. He had reached Level 2, the Intermediate Rank of mana flow. Almost impossible for someone his age.
—Then… I must continue —he said—. My goal is Level 3, the Elite rank… blue mana.
Ordinary humans usually awakened their mana flow between 9 and 13 years old. Some never even reached the intermediate level, let alone blue. Ascending required months, sometimes years of training. But Reinhard was not an ordinary human. In his past life, he had mastered arts that even the greatest mages considered impossible.
—What this tells me is that… —he closed his eyes again—. I brought my talent with me, even in reincarnation.
Days passed. Reinhard meditated in silence, training in secret. His small body, though weak, resisted with iron will. Sometimes he would sneak out at dawn, wrapped in a blanket, and silently run through the mansion's corridors until he reached the library. His sanctuary. His temple of learning.
But fatigue accumulated. Exercising mana exhausted his childish muscles. His fingers trembled while turning the pages of the books. Still, he never stopped training.
—This is so frustrating… —he grumbled one night, frowning with dark circles under his eyes—. In my past life, I never exerted myself like this. How am I supposed to take revenge on humanity if it takes this long to perfect my abilities?
One ordinary night, while meditating in his favorite corner of the library, he visualized his flow once again. And then, something happened.
The energy within his vital core expanded. He felt pressure in his chest, as if something were about to break. His body lit up. The pink hue was replaced by a bright, intense, powerful blue tone.
—I've got it! —exclaimed Reinhard, opening his eyes in astonishment.
He raised his hand. A sphere of blue mana formed in his palm, vibrating like a newborn star. As he focused further, the sphere grew in size… until it exploded with a burst of magical energy that shot to the ceiling and pierced it as if it were paper.
BOOOOM!
The explosion was so intense that it shook the entire mansion. Shelves toppled, books scattered. The walls trembled.
—What was that?! —shouted one of the maids.
Lili, who was in the hallways, stopped at the tremor. She looked up, alarmed.
—Master Reinhard…! —she cried worriedly before running toward the library.
When she arrived, the scene left her breathless.
Reinhard Ashfield floated in the air. His body was enveloped by a brilliant blue halo. His expression was one of astonishment, pride… and exhaustion. His blond hair lifted slightly from the magical pressure. His breathing was labored.
—I… I did it… —he murmured before his eyes slowly closed and he fell unconscious.
Lili ran to catch him before he hit the ground. She held him tightly in her arms, looking with fear and tenderness at the child who, without anyone knowing, had just become one of the most promising mana users in the Ashfield lineage.
The night was quiet, but not for the mind of Reinhard Ashfield. Reclining on the soft sofa in the living room, with a half-open book resting on his lap, his eyes began to droop until, unknowingly, he sank into a deep sleep. Not just any dream. A different one. A dark one. One that smelled of death and ash.
The landscape before him changed suddenly. The sky was dull, covered in black clouds that swirled slowly, as if the world itself had been swallowed by a storm of despair. Around him, the remains of a destroyed village. Houses burned to their foundations, trees charred as if struck by infernal fire, and the ground covered with the lifeless bodies of men, women, and children. Corpses. Dozens. Hundreds.
Reinhard trembled.
—W-what happened here…? Where am I? —he murmured with a broken voice, his steps hesitant among the charred ruins.
Then he saw it. The bodies of his parents. Of Lili. Of the servants. All… dead. Lying atop one another, with expressions of horror frozen on their faces.
—No! This cannot be!
But it was. From among the corpses, a figure rose. It was Lili. But not the Lili he knew. Her face was pale, her gaze filled with pain… and rage.
—You! —she shouted with a distorted voice—. It's all your fault, damn Demon King!
Reinhard's heart stopped for a second. His lips parted, but no words came. The scene grew darker and darker until, suddenly, everything vanished. A blink. A jolt, and he woke up.
Sunlight streamed through the half-open curtains of the main hall. Reinhard, drenched in cold sweat, lay on the same sofa where he had fallen asleep. He breathed with difficulty, as if he had returned from the shadows.
—What a strange… and illogical dream —he whispered to himself, massaging his forehead with his fingers.
—Master Reinhard! —Lili's voice startled him as she approached with a damp towel—. I'm glad you are well. Please, do not exert yourself too much.
Just then, the voices of his parents echoed from the adjacent room. They were arguing.
—Why!? I can't believe it! —Ramona exclaimed, her voice broken with frustration—. Why did it have to be my son? My son will be a mage! Why do you punish me like this, God!?
—Accept it, dear —Homen replied firmly—. It was obvious. Reinhard was always going to be a mage, I knew it from the moment he was born. And the best part is he awakened his mana at Level 3 Elite! He's a prodigy!
—But I wanted him to be a swordsman! Like his mother… so he could join the royal army and have a dignified life. If he becomes a mage, he'll end up living under a bridge! —Ramona broke into tears.
Reinhard listened in silence, staring at the door with a mixture of confusion and sadness.
—My parents… are unique —he said to himself with a half-melancholic smile—. But… why are they arguing? Did I do something wrong?
—Do not worry, Master Reinhard —Lili said softly—. You have done nothing wrong. Rather… congratulations! You have achieved what many children your age never have. You awakened your mana flow!
Reinhard suddenly remembered the scene in the library. The disaster. The glowing aura. And his body floating.
—Ah, yes. I awakened my mana flow.
At that moment, Ramona entered the room, still with moist eyes, and knelt beside her son, gently caressing his face.
—Calm down, my son… Mother is here to help you. We can hire a personal swordsmanship tutor. Everything will be fine. We can cure you of that illness.
But what illness is she talking about —Reinhard thought melancholically.
—Oh, for God's sake, Ramona! —Homen interjected, entering with a raised eyebrow—. Don't treat him like he's sick.
He approached Reinhard, placed his hands on his shoulders, and smiled proudly.
—Son, you've made me the happiest father in the world. I will hire you a professional magic tutor. We will polish that talent until you become a legend!
—And if you're worried about the library. Don't worry, son, we can fix the roof, nothing that money can't solve —Homen Ashfield said confidently.
—No magic! —Ramona responded sharply—. Reinhard will learn swordsmanship and enter the swordsman academy. Period!
—I will not accept your opinion, dear! Reinhard will attend the mage academy in the royal capital. Period!
Both approached Reinhard, face to face, leaning over him, and said in unison:
—Tell us, son! Do you accept?
Reinhard swallowed. His gaze shifted from one to the other. In his mind, a storm of thoughts.
—Now… what should I do with these two? —he thought—. Honestly… I could be good at both.
He remembered his past life. As Demon King, he had mastered magic at the highest level, and his swordsmanship was so brutal that he forged his own legendary weapons. He had used both paths. Both had been his strength and dominion over the Infernal Realms.
—There are many forms of combat, but the most used are magic and swordsmanship. Magic offers useful abilities, defense, versatility… The sword grants physical power, precision, and presence in battle. Perhaps… I don't have to choose just one.
At that moment, Lili coughed delicately to interrupt the tense atmosphere.
—My dear Ashfield masters, I have a proposal for Master Reinhard.
Reinhard sighed in relief inwardly.
—Thank you, Lili… you saved me —he thought.
Lili, with elegant posture and calm voice, explained:
—Master Reinhard is only 3 years old. I propose dividing his learning journey. First, from now until age 6, hire a magic tutor. Later, around 8 or 9 years old, he could begin swordsmanship. This way, we ensure proper physical and mental development.
Ramona crossed her arms.
—And his studies? Which academy will we send him to?
—That will be his decision —Lili replied—. They could also hire a private academic tutor and apply him directly to the capital's university when he reaches the appropriate age. This way he will have a foundation in both styles and a solid education.
The parents looked at each other… and smiled with a mischievous gleam in their eyes.
—Hmm, that makes a lot of sense… —they said in unison, looking directly at Reinhard.
—I think… you doomed me, Lili —Reinhard whispered with a resigned laugh.
That very night, while sleeping between his parents, Reinhard opened his eyes. He rose silently and walked barefoot to the library, whose wooden and silk dome was still under reconstruction. Moonlight entered through an opening in the ceiling, bathing the books and shelves in a bluish hue.
There, in the midst of silence, he raised his hand. A sphere of fire appeared between his fingers. Warm and dangerous. Perfect.
He observed his creation calmly, but in his mind, thoughts swirled.
—What does my future hold with this? Will revenge… against humans be necessary? Or perhaps… it is just an excuse not to leave the past behind?
He lifted his gaze toward the moon, eyes filled with melancholy and hope.
—Perhaps… in this second life… I could do things differently. Perhaps… this time… I will truly find a purpose, without the need to feel burdened by myself.