POV: Jimmy Welton
The day Grandmage Marcus arrived, the air itself felt different.
Even before I saw him, I felt it.
A vast, calm presence—like a deep ocean hiding unimaginable depth.
"Welcome, old friend."
My father's voice echoed through the grand hall.
"I didn't expect a visit so suddenly," Duke Halfthōr Welton said, his tone relaxed but cautious.
A gentle laugh followed.
"Neither did I," replied a calm, aged voice. "But something has been bothering me."
That man was Grandmage Marcus.
One of the strongest mages in the kingdom.
And my father's trusted friend.
Marcus looked like an ordinary elderly man—simple robes, silver hair, and kind eyes. But beneath that calm appearance lay terrifying power.
The moment his eyes fell on me—
They narrowed.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
I felt it.
His gaze wasn't normal.
It wasn't curiosity.
It was examination.
That night, when the palace was silent and servants slept, something unusual happened.
I lay quietly in my bed, pretending to sleep.
Then—
I felt it again.
That presence.
But this time, it was close.
Very close.
He's here.
My eyes remained closed, my breathing steady.
Grandmage Marcus stood beside my bed.
But—
Not physically.
He was in his spirit form.
A faint, translucent figure barely visible to normal eyes.
So this is how he observes people, I thought calmly.
He leaned closer.
"Hmm… he shouldn't be able to sense me in this state," Marcus muttered quietly.
His spiritual eyes glowed softly as he began to examine me.
Mana flowed from him in thin threads.
Then—
I turned my head.
And opened my eyes.
Our gazes met.
Marcus froze.
His spirit form trembled.
"…Impossible."
I looked straight at him.
"You're loud," I said calmly.
The room went dead silent.
Marcus slowly stepped back.
"You… you can see me?" he whispered.
I tilted my head.
"Of course," I replied honestly. "You're right there."
For the first time in decades—
Grandmage Marcus felt fear.
The next second—
The room shook slightly.
Marcus vanished.
And moments later, the door burst open.
My father stood there, sword half-drawn.
"Marcus!" he growled. "What did you do?!"
Marcus appeared behind him—this time fully physical.
His face was pale.
"…Halfthōr," he said slowly, "your son…"
He looked at me again.
"…is not normal."
Marcus approached carefully, kneeling beside my bed.
"How long?" he asked quietly.
My father frowned.
"How long… what?"
"How long has he been like this?" Marcus asked. "Sensing mana. Perceiving spirit forms."
The Duke's grip tightened.
"…Since birth."
Marcus exhaled slowly.
Then he laughed.
A quiet, stunned laugh.
"Pure Mana," he said. "And something more."
He met the Duke's eyes.
"Halfthōr… do you realize what kind of existence your son is becoming?"
I lay back down, pretending to yawn.
Inside, my thoughts were calm.
A Grandmage can't hide from me.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
End of Chapter 7