In this world, magic was everything — it shaped laws, built nations, and decided who would stand above others.
Sword Mages who wove spells into their bladework, Elementalists who commanded the forces of nature, Healers who mended flesh and spirit, Summoners who called forth beasts from distant realms, Wizards who studied ancient tomes, Sorcerers who drew power from their bloodlines — all these talents and more existed in a world where mana flowed like water through every living thing. Nobles and royalty competed fiercely for influence, their courts buzzing with spellcraft and political intrigue. Academies across the land trained prodigies from the moment they could walk, while even the poorest commoners held onto the dream that one day, their mana core would awaken. Here, strength was respected above all else, effort was praised as the path to power, and power itself became the measure of a person's worth.
But if power was everything, then status must be everything too... right?
In this world, a person's fate was often sealed before they took their first breath. Mana cores awakened at birth, and their quality determined not just magical potential, but social standing. Royal families paraded their ancient bloodlines like trophies, claiming their magic ran deeper and burned brighter than any commoner's could ever hope to. Noble houses erected grand manors with enchanted crests carved into their walls — symbols of their lineage that glowed with dormant power. Even among mages, a strict hierarchy ruled: Elementalists and Summoners were hailed as "high magic" practitioners, their abilities seen as more prestigious than others. Royals and nobles were celebrated simply for who they were, even when they never lifted a finger to hone their skills, while those with practical talents like Enchanters or Alchemists were often brushed aside. To be born without status was to be overlooked; to show no desire to climb the ranks was to be invisible at best. At worst, such people were scorned and shunned — treated as less than the devils that haunted children's nightmares.
And then there was Yuire.
He was a boy who'd earned a reputation in the nearby villages as the laziest kid around — though truth be told, he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He'd lie down wherever the mood struck - under the sprawling branches of an old oak tree, in a patch of soft grass by the river, or even on the dusty path leading to town. As long as he wasn't forced to get involved in anything, he was content to rest and watch the world go by. Even if someone told him the world was ending, he'd probably just roll over and say, "That sounds like a lot of trouble — wake me when it's over."
"What happened here? Why am I here?"
he mumbled one afternoon, staring up at the sky through a canopy of leaves.
"Oh right — I live here. Once again, I forgot what I was doing."
He picked at his nose with one finger while sprawled on his back, his gaze fixed on a thick branch overhead. A moment later, it creaked and fell to the ground with a soft thud.
"That's boring — another branch down,"
he sighed, not bothering to move an inch.
For all his laziness, Yuire was far from ordinary. He was an Elementalist who'd awakened his core at twelve — an age considered young even for nobles. What made him truly special was that he could command four elements: fire that blazed hot enough to melt stone, air that could whip up storms or carry him through the sky, water that could heal wounds or cut like glass, and earth that could shift mountains or form impenetrable walls. Just five months after his first awakening, he'd unlocked a second talent — Summoning. For a commoner to have one rare ability was unheard of - to have two was almost impossible. But in a world that looked down on people like him, Yuire didn't see the point in showing off.
He didn't care about power or status. All he wanted was to lie back and observe life as it passed him by. Still, his body held a secret even he didn't fully grasp: his mana core was limitless, and it grew stronger while he rested. Every time he slept or simply lay still, his magic cultivated itself, deepening and expanding without any effort on his part. Being gifted was one thing — but being lazy enough to let his power grow on its own was something no one in the world had ever seen.
"Hmmmmmmmm?"
His nose twitched as he caught a new scent on the wind — musky, wild, and full of life. He lifted his head just enough to spot a massive shape moving through the trees a hundred yards away.
"A boar?.... Perfect — I'm hungry anyway."
He didn't bother standing up. Instead, he raised one hand and focused a small fraction of his magic into his palm. Flames flickered to life around his fingers, twisting and shaping themselves into a sharp, pointed spear.
"Fire Magic: Flame Spear!"
The spear shot forward with a low whistle, striking the boar square in the side. An explosion rocked the undergrowth, sending dirt and leaves flying. The beast — a hulking creature with tusks as long as swords — let out a roar and charged back at him, its hooves thundering against the earth. Yuire flicked his wrist, and a gust of wind magic sent the boar tumbling end over end until it crashed into a boulder, stunned.
Yuire finally pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the fallen animal. He hooked one arm under its belly and lifted it with ease — even though the boar was as large as a three-story house.
"I'm tired of walking like this," he grumbled, having taken no more than twenty steps. His strength was immense, but his patience for movement was tiny.
He carried the boar to his favorite resting spot and built a small fire with a flick of his finger. He ate directly from the beast, tearing into the meat with his hands and teeth. It took him three full hours to finish — he ate slowly, pausing now and then to watch clouds drift by or chase a butterfly away from his food.
Burrrrrrrp.
He leaned back, patting his stomach contentedly.
"I'm full."
Stretching out again on the grass, he stared up at the sky and thought about his next meal. Hunting was easy enough, but it required moving — and moving was such a hassle.
"I wish someone could just hunt my food for me... save me the trouble of getting up every time I'm hungry," he muttered.
That's when it hit him - he was a Summoner. He'd known for years that he had the talent, but he'd never bothered to learn how to use it. The problem was, he had no idea where to start.
"Hmmmmm.... I don't know how to summon anything. I remember hearing that Summoners need either a formal contract or a pack bond... and I don't know how to do either one."
He'd overheard mages talking about the two ways to summon: the first involved drawing complex magic circles on the ground, reciting ancient incantations, and negotiating terms with whatever creature answered the call. The second was simpler — a pack bond, where a Summoner formed a deep, mutual connection with a beast, allowing them to call on each other whenever needed. Yuire couldn't be bothered to learn complicated circles or negotiations, but the idea of a pack bond sounded manageable.
"I guess I'll go get that book I took when I was little," he said, pushing himself up with a groan.
When he was seven, he'd snuck into the local noble's library and taken a thick, leather-bound book that no one seemed to be using. It was filled with advanced Summoning knowledge — stuff even master mages struggled to understand. He'd tucked it away somewhere and promptly forgotten about it.
"Where did I put that thing again?" he wondered, wandering through the forest. He checked under his usual tree, behind a hollow log, and even in the small cave where he sometimes slept when it rained.
???
Then he spotted it — hidden behind a stack of smooth river stones in the corner of the cave, covered in a thin layer of dust.
"Oh — here it is! I left it by the wall where the moss grows thick."
He picked up the book and carried it back to his grassy spot, lying down to read. The words on the pages made perfect sense to him — his elemental power helped him understand the flow of magic described in the text. He quickly realized the contract method was far too much work for his liking. Drawing circles required steady hands and focus, and negotiating with intelligent beasts could take days. The pack bond, though, was straightforward: find a creature you trust, share a small part of your mana with it, and the bond forms naturally. Even better — you could form bonds with multiple beasts at once.
"Ohhhh... so the second one's easy. And it's perfect timing — I live in the Heartwood Forest, which no kingdom or empire has ever been able to conquer. The trees are so thick and enchanted that even the strongest nobles are afraid to come here. There are plenty of beasts around."
Yuire read every word carefully until he had the bonding ritual memorized. Then he sat up and practiced the hand gestures and mana flow — mastering the entire process in just a few seconds. His natural talent made even the most complex magic feel like second nature.
"Awesome... Now I can summon whenever I want. I just need to find some beasts to form a pack with."
He looked up and noticed the sun was beginning to sink low in the sky, painting the forest in shades of orange and red. He considered heading out to search immediately, but the thought of walking through the evening woods made him yawn.
"I think I'll rest here and sleep through the night. Hunting for beasts can wait until morning."
As darkness fell, he curled up on his grassy bed and pulled a blanket of leaves over himself. He was asleep within minutes, snoring so loudly that birds flew out of the trees nearby and a family of foxes scurried away to find a quieter spot.
------------
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A small wild rabbit hopped across his chest, then onto his face, its tiny paws tapping against his nose. Yuire's eyes snapped open, and he sneezed, sending the rabbit bounding into the bushes.
"Ugh — what time is it?"
he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. The sun was high in the sky, and the forest was alive with the sounds of birds singing and streams bubbling. Then he remembered his plan from the day before.
"Right! I need to find some beasts or monsters to form a pack bond with."
For once, he didn't waste time. He stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and took off running through the forest. His legs moved easily — he was faster than any normal human could ever be, though he rarely bothered to use his speed. After running for about ten minutes, he spotted movement in a large clearing up ahead. He slowed down and crept quietly through the trees to get a better look.
"Hehhhh?... Horned Dire Wolves. A whole pack of them."
He counted carefully as the wolves rested in the sun, some lying on their sides while others stood guard.
"One... two... three... four... five... six... Seven total. Let's see — they're not the strongest ones out there, but seven of them should be able to hunt enough food to keep me fed every day. No need for anything fancier than that."
He paused for a moment, tilting his head as he watched them play and nuzzle each other. They looked like a good group — strong enough to survive in the wild, but not so powerful that they'd cause trouble.
"Okay — these will do just fine."
He stepped out of the trees and into the clearing. The moment he did, the wolves froze. Their ears swiveled toward him, their heads lifted, and low growls rumbled in their throats. The largest one — a male with a scar across his left eye — stepped forward, baring his teeth in a warning snarl. Yuire kept walking calmly toward them, his hands in his pockets. As he got closer, he could see their full features clearly: they stood six feet tall at the shoulder, with thick legs built for running and jumping. Their eyes were a striking amber color, and sharp, four-inch horns curved back from their skulls. Their fur was a mix of warm brown and cool grey, with darker stripes running down their backs.
"Huh — brown and grey fur. Just regular Dire Wolves, not the rare colored ones. But that's okay — seven of them should manage my meals without any problem."
Yuire knew that Dire Wolves were classified by their fur color, which indicated their power level. Silver, dark blue, and red wolves were B-rank — strong enough to take on a small group of trained knights. Black and white wolves were even more powerful — A or S-rank, capable of hunting alone and taking down monsters twice their size. Grey and brown wolves, though, were D or E-rank — their strength depended on how long they'd been surviving in the wild, but they were generally seen as common beasts.
But Yuire didn't care about rankings or power levels. All he wanted was help getting food so he could spend more time resting. To make sure the pack understood he meant no harm — and that he was strong enough to protect them — he released a gentle but unmistakable wave of his mana. It carried with it a hint of killing intent and oppressive pressure — enough to make even the bravest creatures pause. The wolves trembled, their growls fading as they pressed their bellies to the ground, tails tucked between their legs. Yuire spoke in a calm, steady voice that carried across the clearing.
"I don't want to hurt any of you. Submit to me, and I'll keep you safe — from hunters, from stronger monsters, from anything that might harm you. Become my summons, and none of you will ever go hungry or be in danger again."
The alpha wolf lifted his head and looked Yuire in the eye. For a long moment, they stared at each other. Then the alpha dipped his head in a slow bow. One by one, the other wolves followed suit, their ears flattening in respect.
"Good. That's exactly what I wanted."
Yuire walked to the center of the pack and began the pack bond ritual. He held out his hands, and soft, silver light flowed from his fingertips, wrapping around each wolf like a gentle blanket. The ritual was supposed to take hours for most Summoners, but Yuire completed it in less than a minute. As the light settled and the bond formed, something unexpected happened: the wolves began to glow with the same silver light that had come from Yuire's hands.
It was a known fact among Summoners that if the mage was powerful enough, their bonded beasts would evolve - their bodies and abilities transforming to match their partner's strength. The brown and grey fur on the wolves began to shift and change, streaks of bright silver weaving through their coats like rivers of starlight. Their horns lengthened and sharpened, curving into elegant spirals that glinted in the sun. Their muscles bulked up, making them even larger and more imposing, and their amber eyes now held a spark of intelligence that hadn't been there before. The seven D and E-rank beasts were evolving right before Yuire's eyes — becoming something far stronger than anyone in the world would have expected.
"Goddamn it — now what?"
Yuire stared wide-eyed as silver light rippled across the wolves' fur, their bodies shifting and growing before his very eyes. Their horns had sharpened to gleaming points, and their muscles bulged with newfound power — they looked nothing like the low-ranked beasts he'd found earlier.
He tensed for a moment, worried about what this unexpected change might mean. Then a wide grin spread across his face as a thought hit him.
"If these guys are evolving, that means they're strong as hell! They could hunt enough food for me endlessly — no more getting up to chase boars myself!"
He circled the pack, his eyes sparkling with joy and quiet pride. He hadn't considered what his power might do to them when he formed the bond, but now he was already planning out how to make the most of it.
"Ahem — " he cleared his throat, trying to look composed even though he was practically bouncing with excitement. He paused, scratching his head as he tried to figure out what to do next.
"So... these guys... hmmmmmm?"
After a few seconds of staring blankly, fatigue settled in. He'd been standing for nearly ten minutes — way longer than he liked. Without warning, he leaped onto the back of the largest wolf, who let out a soft huff but didn't protest.
"Take me home,"
Yuire said, slumping forward and resting his chin on the wolf's neck.
The pack moved as one, bounding through the forest with incredible speed. They leaped over fallen logs and across streams in single jumps, moving so smoothly that Yuire barely felt a bump. In minutes, they reached the small clearing where he'd made his home — surrounded by tall trees and a moss-covered rock that served as his favorite resting spot.
Yuire slid off the wolf's back and flopped onto the grass like a sack of stones, not even bothering to adjust his position as he landed. The seven wolves stood in a neat line, watching him expectantly with their bright, intelligent eyes.
"Alright,"
he said in a calm, lazy voice, waving a hand without looking up.
"Go get some food for me. Find whatever's easy to catch."
The wolves let out synchronized yips and vanished into the trees. Yuire closed his eyes, already dozing off — until the sound of heavy footsteps and snorting pulled him awake. He sat up to find the pack back in the clearing, each one dragging or carrying at least four massive boars. The animals were piled up in a huge heap — thirty in total — blocking out half the sunlight.
"Wait — STOP!"
Yuire scrambled to his feet, something he almost never did.
"You guys were gonna keep going?!"
The wolves paused, tilting their heads as if confused by his outburst. They'd only been gone for twenty minutes, but they'd hunted more than he could eat in a week. Yuire stared at the mountain of boars, a look of genuine worry crossing his face.
"Thirty boars... instantly?
What the hell — if you keep hunting like this, there won't be any boars left in the forest! Then what am I supposed to eat?"
He waved his hand again, this time more firmly.
"Okay, that's enough for now. All of you — rest over there by the trees."
The wolves obeyed, settling down in a shaded spot while Yuire walked over to the pile of boars. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a wall of controlled flames that wrapped around the entire heap. The fire cooked the meat perfectly in minutes, filling the air with the rich smell of roasted pork.
"Come on — eat up,"
Yuire called to his pack. The wolves approached cautiously at first, then dug in once they saw him tearing into a boar leg himself.
Yuire ate slowly, savoring each bite as he leaned against his favorite rock. When he was full — having polished off three boars by himself — he wiped his hands on his clothes and stretched out on the grass. Within seconds, his breathing had slowed, and he was asleep, snoring softly as his wolves curled up around him to stand guard.
[3 — Days Later]