“Since we now know your true affinities,” Albrecht said, “we’ll start with the basics. Lisa, bring me the Draught.”
Lisa slipped out of the room, leaving only Albrecht, Lina, Vierna, and Halwen.
“Uncle,” Lina began, “to be honest, I still don’t really get what Grace is.”
“Didn’t I explain it to you before the procedure?”
“Well, yes… but all I know is that it’s like mana, except the Imperium uses it. I don’t know anything beyond that.”
“I’m curious too, Herr Halwen,” Albrecht added. “What everyone knows is about the same as what Lina just said. The Imperium was too busy worshipping it to ever truly understand what it actually was.”
Vierna leaned in. For her, hearing this kind of lore was a blessing—especially if it meant learning more about Lina.
Halwen sighed. It seemed he would have to turn into a lecturer again.
“The truth is, the only real difference between us and the Imperium is magic. From birth, we have access to the spirit realm—that’s what allows us to use magic. To distinguish ourselves from them, we call ourselves Wizards while we call them Blanks.”
“It’s true that even for Wizards, our spirit and physical body are like two beings intertwined. That’s why, when we cast spells, we say the spell’s name to attune the physical and spiritual halves of ourselves. The body commands, the spirit acts.
“Sorry, Herr Halwen,” Vierna cut in. “If a spell’s name is our physical body telling the spirit what to do, then why do some spells not require calling the name at all?”
“Good question.” Halwen replied. “The connection between spirit and body strengthens over time with training. We teach the spirit to instinctively understand what the body wants. That’s why higher-tier mages can cast without speaking the name. But the more complex the spell, the more necessary that command becomes.”
“This is the case for basic manipulation spells,” Halwen continued, conjuring a lump of dirt into his palm. “When the spell is simple, your spirit instantly understands your intent.”
“And the Absolute Control spell?” Vierna asked.
“By using that spell, your spirit aligns more closely with your element,” Halwen said. “Absolute Control can only be cast by an elementalist who’s dedicated their soul to one element. It sharpens the bond between will and element until the two move as one.”
Lina tilted her head. “So basically… say the name when it’s hard, skip it when it’s easy, and if you’re really obsessed with one element, you can directly control it without calling the name with ‘absolute control’ spell?”
Halwen blinked at her phrasing but gave a small nod. “That is… a simplified way to put it, yes.”
Lina rubbed her chin as if she were genuinely trying to piece it together, which was a surprise. Beside her, Vierna had somehow already took an ink and paper, jotting down every word Halwen said, even the smallest detail.
“Anyway, we’ve strayed from the Grace explanation. Where did I leave off?” Halwen asked.
“Wizards’ connection to the spirit realm,” Lina said. It surprised everyone that she had actually been paying attention.
“Right. The Blanks of the Imperium, however, don’t have that.” Halwen continued, “They are completely disconnected from their spirit. The cause is unclear, most researches haven’t dedicated enough attention to what actually cuts them off from it. If you believe the Cult of Precedence, they say it’s the will of Legarion, decreeing that Blanks must serve Wizards.
“I personally don’t put much stock in the Cult’s teaching,” He added, “but since they preach Wizard supremacy, the Reich tolerates their presence. Now, Grace, that’s what unlocks a normal human’s connection to the spirit realm. How it happens and what causes it are still unclear.”
“So now the Blanks have mana?” Vierna asked.
“No. Grace and mana, while serving the same function, are inherently different. The source of Grace is external, which must be discovered, studied, and assessed to determine whether it’s dangerous or not. The Imperium outright refuses to seek its origin, claiming that a divine gift should be kept a mystery. Idiots.”
“Well, that’s common knowledge,” Albrecht said. “What’s the secret, then?”
“There is no secret, Albrecht. We cannot publicly experiment on Blanks with Grace, since the Reich wants to appeal to the Imperium’s population. The ones we used for Lina and the other Faintborn’s procedure, they made public announcements and signed forms, and they were also accompanied by others with Grace to prove they weren’t being forced. Even that was already pushing it. The only thing we know beyond that is that Grace can be extracted and transferred into another being, especially a Faintborns, but even then a range of criteria needs to be fulfilled. So far, we have only tried it on four Faintborns. They all failed. Only Lina here has shown any results.”
“Does that mean I’m special~?” Lina asked cheerfully.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Special in a way. But now, in your spirit, Grace and mana coexist, and we need to study how that works.”
The four of them paused. It seemed Lina and Halwen had a great deal of research to conduct.
“Herr Halwen,” Vierna asked, “if someone volunteered for Lina’s experiment, did that mean some people with Grace had defected here?”
“Yes, but like I said, that was already pushing it. We honestly wanted to help them find the origin, but ignorance got in the way. But the man who volunteered, we didn’t even need to convince him. He completely understood our concern. In a way, he martyred himself, and we benefited from it, but no one seems to have followed in his footsteps.”
“The world isn’t black and white, Vierna.” Halwen continued “While there are Imperium defectors here, there are also Reich defectors there. You need to assess everything, and not just assume everyone with Grace is your enemy and everyone with mana is your friend.”
“Exactly,” Albrecht added. “Look at it this way, Vierna, the Reich has never oppressed anyone with Grace. We only seek to understand it. But for some reason, the Imperium has never allowed us. They even declared war on us, the rightful rulers of the Continent.”
“Their supposed acceptance of defector.” He continued, “Is nothing but a fa?ade, one they copied from us. We truly try to understand Grace, and that’s why some with it come over to our side. Wizards who run to the Imperium? They go for trinkets and gold. But I’ll tell you this, Vierna, to hell with any Wizard who doesn’t stand with the Reich, even those so-called ‘independents.’ Especially the degenerates in the Cult of Paradise.”
It was clear how much hatred Albrecht poured into the Cult’s name. Something had clearly happened between him and them.
“Cult of Paradise?” Vierna asked.
“It’s a cult obsessed with ‘turning the Continent into paradise,’ whatever the hell that means,” Albrecht said. “They’re full of degenerates, former Wizards and those idiotic so-called Saints from the Imperium. Look, I’m not exactly fond of the Cult of Precedence either, but at least their creed serves a hierarchical function, not this wanton debauchery.”
They lingered on the topic a while longer, the conversation shifting from cults to the political undercurrents of the Reich. From there it flowed into affinities—their nature, their limits, and the role they played in shaping a mage’s standing.
After a while, Lisa returned carrying two squat glass bottles, each filled with a liquid so vividly crimson it seemed to glow. Vierna and Lina recognized it instantly—Voran’s Red Draught. They had seen it before, especially during the Battle of Einhartturm.
“I’m sorry, Herr Albrecht, but we’re out of the Draught because someone used it as a perfume,” Lisa said, glaring at Albrecht .
“It’s quite fine, Lisa,” Albrecht said to his maid in an attempt to make her drop the subject, then turned toward Vierna and Lina.
“This,” Albrecht said, holding one bottle up to catch the light, “is Voran’s Red Draught. On the battlefield, it’s like a second life. It restores your mana completely, but drink it too often in quick succession and it will rupture your organs. That’s why no one sane depends on it for long.”
“Now, drink.”
Vierna and Lina unstoppered the bottles. A rush of fragrance escaped, rich and heady like red grapes just cut from the vine, their skins still warm from the sun. Beneath it lingered a faint herbal sharpness, the scent of something rare and alchemical, both inviting and faintly dangerous.
The first swallow proved the scent a cruel lie. The Draught hit their throats like molten metal, searing its way down and blooming into every vein. It didn’t flow so much as invade, forcing itself into muscles, marrow, and mind. The heat wasn’t steady—it surged in erratic pulses, stabbing and twisting as if trying to claw its way out.
Both girls doubled forward. Vierna clamped her hands over her ears as a phantom concussion cracked through her skull, the soundless bang echoing in her bones. Lina’s stomach lurched so violently she nearly retched through her mask, jaw clamped shut until her teeth ached. Her whole frame shook as if the Draught was trying to shake her apart from the inside.
After a while, their trembling eased. The pain ebbed to a dull throb, and the weight in their limbs lifted—it seemed the Draught had indeed restored their mana.
“This is your second lesson,” Albrecht said. “Most mages train their reserves so that when they finally drink that, it delivers the maximum effect.”
He straightened and gestured toward the practice field. “Now—basic spells. Lina, I want you to fire off as many fireballs as you can. You too, Vierna, but icicles. Lisa, continue with Blitzschlag like you did yesterday. All three of you will push your limits. Only rest when I tell you. Today, we strain your mana.”
They obeyed without protest. Vierna loosed icicles one after another, each just large enough to pierce a dummy. Albrecht hadn’t specified size, so she conserved her mana by keeping them small. Even so, accuracy proved harder than she expected—sometimes she hit dead-on, other times the shards thudded harmlessly into the dirt. Adjusting her rhythm, she tempered her casting, focusing on both aim and pacing rather than speed alone.
Vierna noticed something curious. When Lisa said Blitzschlag, she could hurl several lightning bolts before needing to speak the word again. The urge to ask Albrecht tugged at her, but his instructions had been clear: rest only when ordered. So she kept quiet.
They fired spells for a grueling hour and a half. It was something normal for mages above apprentice level, but far beyond Lina and Vierna’s current stamina. By the time Albrecht finally called a halt, Lina was slumped on the floor, panting, her mask fogged and sweat dripping down her neck.
“Lina, what the hell was that fire?” Albrecht asked. “I told you to hit the dummy, but maybe a handful of your shots landed.”
“Huff… huff… I’m sorry, Alb,” she gasped. “After a few minutes, I couldn’t focus my mana anymore.”
“Since we can’t do much about the Grace,” Albrecht said, “I want you to focus on mana control. We’ll start with the shaping exercise. Five minutes’ break first.”
“Five minutes? Can I—”
“No, you can’t.”
Lina groaned and slumped back down.
“Vierna, I noticed your accuracy wavered too, though not as much as Lina’s.” Albrecht’s gaze sharpened. “But I also noticed your icicles before they melted. Why were they so small?”
“Apologies, Albrecht. I didn’t think my mana would last until you called for a break, so I made them small enough to conserve it.”
“I see.” For a brief moment, Vierna caught a flicker of approval in his expression.
“Alb, I have a question.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Herr Halwen said we need to tell the spirit when we want to do magic, but Lisa was able to fire several Blizschlag before she had to say it again. Why is that?”
“Saying the spell name tells your spirit exactly what to do. If you don’t change the spell, you can fire it a few times before you need to say it again.”
Vierna still somehow had paper and ink, and she jotted this down without hesitation.
“And Vierna,” Albrecht continued, “after the five-minute break, you’ll be doing pulse shaping. You know what that is, right?”
Vierna recalled the book Halwen had given her during her first class. “Yes, Albrecht. Herr Halwen let me read about it back then.”
“Good.”
Vierna glanced at her ink-stained fingers. Today had been simple training. Tomorrow, who could say?
Grace Or Mana?
