Dawn came quietly over the sea, its golden light stretching across the endless horizon as if the world itself was slowly being unveiled. The storm from the previous day had long since faded, leaving behind calm waters and a steady wind that carried the scent of salt and distance.
Thaddeus stirred.
He pushed himself up from the wooden deck where he had rested the night before, his body still stiff from sleep, the blue-green pajamas slightly rumpled against his frame. For a moment, he simply sat there, staring out at the ocean, letting the warmth of the rising sun wash over him.
Then, with a faint sigh, he began his newly formed routine.
"One… two… three…"
His arms trembled slightly as he lowered himself and pushed back up again. The motion was awkward, unrefined—lacking the natural ease of someone accustomed to physical training.
"Four… five…"
By the sixth push-up, his arms gave out.
He dropped flat onto the deck, breathing heavier than he would have liked.
"…six."
Silence followed.
Then he turned his head slightly, staring at the endless sky.
"Yeah… that's enough."
There was no frustration in his voice—only acceptance.
Thaddeus rolled onto his back and exhaled slowly.
It was a habit he had just decided to start today. Every morning, he would attempt to train his body. Not for long, not with a strict regimen—just a simple beginning, a test of discipline.
But even on the first day, it already felt heavier than expected.
Because the truth was simple.
His body was weak.
Not frail, not sickly—but far from what it should be, especially for someone who now wielded overwhelming magical power. The imbalance was obvious. Almost ironic.
A being capable of wielding three branches of magic… unable to complete even ten push-ups.
He knew the solution.
Exercise. Discipline. Consistency.
All things he had never truly embraced—even in his past life.
"I could fix this," he muttered under his breath. "If I really tried."
But even as he said it, he already knew the answer.
He wouldn't.
Not now.
Not when magic offered a far more efficient path.
With a small grunt, he sat up again and brushed his hands together.
"Better to refine what I'm already good at."
That was his reasoning—and he didn't bother pretending otherwise.
Rising to his feet, Thaddeus stretched lightly before walking toward the upper deck.
The air was crisp. The wind steady. The sea had calmed significantly, rolling in long, gentle waves instead of violent surges.
Perfect conditions.
With a flick of his fingers, his pajamas transformed into a maroon wizard's robe, fluttering in the wind. At the same time, the space expanded and several wooden barrels rose from the deck, reshaping themselves into four humanoid figures dressed in black wizard robes, each holding a wand.
His dueling dummies.
"Let's see…"
His eyes sharpened.
Magic stirred.
The first spell came naturally—almost instinctively. A pulse of disarming charm shot forward, striking one dummy square in the chest and sending it skidding backward.
Another followed. Then another.
His movements became fluid, precise. Unlike his earlier physical training, there was no hesitation here. No weakness.
This was his domain.
Minutes passed as he practiced—refining control, adjusting output, testing angles and speed. The dummies absorbed his spells, splintering and reforming under his will, before coordinating their counterattacks in a loose but synchronized formation.
But then—he paused.
He raised his left hand, and the dummies froze mid-motion. Even the spell that was about to be cast dissolved into nothingness, scattering harmlessly into the air
Something had caught his attention.
Far in the distance, just beyond the natural curve of the sea, a shape moved against the horizon.
A ship.
Thaddeus narrowed his eyes.
It wasn't close—still far enough that details were difficult to discern—but its sheer size made it unmistakable.
A massive vessel.
"…That one."
Recognition flickered in his mind.
It was the same ship he had saved from the storm.
For a moment, he simply watched.
"They're following me?"
The thought surfaced, but he didn't dwell on it.
The ocean was vast. Routes often overlapped. It wasn't unusual for another ship to be traveling in the same direction.
"Or maybe we just share a destination…"
That seemed more likely.
And honestly, he didn't care.
Thaddeus turned away, dismissing the thought entirely.
"I don't own the ocean."
Anyone could sail wherever they wished.
If anything, their presence only confirmed something useful.
He was heading the right way.
That alone was enough.
As if to reinforce that thought, a distant cry echoed through the air. Thaddeus looked up.
Gulls circled high above, their white forms catching the sunlight as they glided effortlessly through the sky.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Land… must be near."
A simple sign, but meaningful. For months, all he had seen was water. Now there was proof his journey was nearing its next phase.
Still, he didn't rush. There was no need. The voyage would continue at its own pace.
After finishing his practice, Thaddeus moved on to the next part of his daily routine on the ship.
The life of a farming wizard.
He stepped into the galley where his magically sustained growth field existed.
Kneeling slightly, he inspected the harvest.
Vegetables, wheat, and fruit—everything he had planted had matured far quicker than normal. Enough to sustain him for weeks, possibly longer.
"Good."
Yesterday, his storage pouch had been emptied. Now it was time to restock.
With practiced efficiency, he began harvesting.
Thaddeus had never been fond of farming in his past life. Growing up in the city had left little room for anything like it. But here, with little else to occupy his time aboard the ship, he had found it surprisingly engaging.
And eating food he had grown himself felt… more rewarding.
Once finished, he planted new crops and neatly organized everything before stepping back from the field.
He reinforced the runes, layered additional charms to further accelerate growth, and strengthened the arc lamps suspended in the air. The moment he did, the plants seemed to hum with vitality.
Only then did he leave the room.
At lunch, he cooked seafood and ate with clear satisfaction. The lack of spice didn't matter. Each bite carried weight—especially knowing this meal was worth more than his monthly salary from his past life as a blue-collar worker.
Strangely enough, it made him feel as though he was finally living.
By afternoon, the sun stood high overhead, casting sharp reflections across the ocean.
Thaddeus returned to his quarters.
A spellbook floated behind him, following silently.
It was the reward he had received yesterday.
He had seen it earlier during lunch but hadn't touched it.
At the time, something about it had felt… off.
Not immediately dangerous to him—but enough to make him hesitate.
He had since realized why.
The spellbook carried an enchantment that subtly drew magical users toward it.
Dangerous, in its own quiet way.
Now, however…
Now he was ready.
He settled into the captain's quarters, now resembling a luxury medieval suite in both comfort and design.
Sitting on a king-sized bed, he pulled the book into his hands.
For a brief moment, he simply stared at its weathered, ominous cover.
Then he opened it. The pages shifted slightly, as if reacting to his presence.
The text was dense, complex—but not unreadable. His understanding of magic allowed him to grasp it quickly.
He read until he finished the first chapter.
And that was enough.
A subtle change washed over him. Not physical—but perceptible.
A shift. A deepening.
"…So this is it."
The first chapter was not a spell at all.
It was a ritual.
A method of preserving youth—of achieving a form of immortality.
Endless vitality, immune to aging, untouched by time.
But there was a condition.
A tether.
An artifact.
The life of whoever was bound to the artifact would be tied to a physical object. As long as it remained intact, they would persist.
If it were destroyed…
So would they.
Thaddeus closed the book and leaned back, his gaze fixed on the chandelier above.
"Immortality… with a leash."
He understood the appeal immediately.
Endless time. Endless growth. Endless possibility.
But also endless paranoia. Endless vulnerability.
"…Not worth it."
Even without explicit warnings, he could feel it.
Something deeper lingered within the ritual.
Something that didn't just affect the body—but the mind.
What else would you expect from a ritual drawn from the infamous Magick Moste Evile?
"I'll pass. For now."
Not of fear, but caution.
With a flick of his hand, the book floated toward the shelves. Once it settled, the protective charms embedded within them locked its influence away.
If he ever chose to explore it again, it would be on his own terms—with full understanding and control.
And that meant one thing.
"Mind magic."
If the book could influence thought, emotion, and perception—then he needed defenses. Control over his own mind. A domain of magic that explored the mind itself.
Only then would it be safe for him to delve further into this book.
For now, exposure was enough.
Then, after a pause, he used the system's voice command, a function he had only recently learned.
"Show me the branches of magic."
The system responded instantly.
A familiar interface unfolded before him.
---
[BRANCHES OF MAGIC]
[CHARMS]
[TRANSFIGURATION]
[ANCIENT RUNES]
[DARK ARTS]
---
A new branch of magic appeared.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Dark Arts."
It hadn't been there before.
As expected, learning from that spellbook—even just a single chapter—had triggered it.
"…So generous, my lovely system."
There was no alarm in his expression. No rejection. Only curiosity.
Magic was not inherently good or evil. Having mastered three branches already, he understood that better than most.
Magic was a tool. Its nature depended entirely on the one who wielded it.
Even the simplest spell could become cruel in the wrong hands.
Still…
He wasn't naive.
This new branch carried weight. Implications. Risks.
But also—possibilities.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"A master of Dark Arts…"
He repeated the words once in his mind, testing them.
Then he exhaled.
For now, that was all it was—possibility.
TBC
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