WFMW 03

Chapter 03

My Mana Disappeared

2024.03.03.

[If my sister falls in love with some guy and gets married during those three years, that would be a disaster. If my sister dies now the inheritance becomes mine, but if she marries it becomes her husband’s.]

I never realized my younger sister was that kind of person until I was dying. Well, it made sense — I’d been holed up at the academy and hadn’t seen her in ages, and whenever we did meet she always smiled brightly at me and said nice things.

“You’re my pride, sister.”
“I’m happy because of you.”
“I hope you get recognized as a mage soon.”

So I threw myself into research, and I eventually became an archmage. I even received an inheritance — a surprise left by distant ancestors.

And the result of all that was, ultimately, my death.

But there was one thing Diana hadn’t counted on: that I was the mage who’d studied time the most in this world.

‘I’m glad I studied space–time magic.’

When Diana — who was sure I was dead — showed her true colors and began to mock me, I rewound time. I had researched it, but I’d never actually reversed time on such a large scale before.

Only one thought filled my head.

‘I’m getting out of here this time.’

Isn’t it ridiculous for the country’s only archmage to be murdered by her little sister? Everyone trusted Diana, and that’s how she got away with it. I wouldn’t be fooled twice.

‘I’ll run to somewhere so distant she can’t follow, and keep the whole inheritance to myself.’

I also thought a little about revenge, but really the best revenge would be living happily, squandering the inheritance all by myself — that would sting Diana the most.

‘I won’t be fooled by you again.’

So I swore and swore again as I rewound time. Back to the moment just after I became an archmage.

Everything was the same. Diana came to the ceremony to congratulate me, my classmates from the magic department celebrated my graduation, the professors suddenly acted politely, and people were surprised by the announcement of the huge inheritance.

There was only one difference.

“What the….”

Everyone except me.

Was it because I cast such an unprecedented spell that rewound the world’s time?

“My mana’s gone.”

All the vast magic I’d had — enough to blow up every mana meter at the academy when I was little — had disappeared.

The Academy — cradle of the country’s greatest scholars.
The Magic Department there was where the rarest intellects gathered.

If you walked past it sometimes you’d see a professor of Magic Circuitry and a student setting up offerings and bowing together.

“Isn’t Magic Circuitry the area that needs the most empirical approach among magic studies?”
“Exactly.”

Magic circuits — the field that studies the patterns through which mana flows — are useful when crafting new spells. When a spell fails, you check the magic circuits.

Magic Circuitry is supposed to be logical and meticulous, yet the professor and his disciple held rituals to pray for success?

I was so baffled that one day I asked the professor.

“Why do you perform those offerings? Isn’t that a superstition?”

The professor put on an extremely serious expression. Of course, the peacock feather stuck in his hair made him look ridiculous.

“Not everything in this world can be solved by reason and logic. Sometimes the most irrational acts are the answers.”

“What do you mean?”

Isn’t something unresolved simply due to lack of analysis? I objected, and the professor said:

“Prayer calms the mind. That’s it. If you’re lucky, things might resolve without me having to do anything.”

“……What?”

I couldn’t understand that back then, but I did now — after losing all my mana.

‘Damn it — did you have to put it so politely when what you mean is we can only pray?’

I tore at my hair. All the magical knowledge I’d gained still lived vividly in my head.

Only one thing had changed. My mana was gone.

But that was the worst part. Even though I had the vast knowledge people called archmage, I could no longer cast magic like before.

‘It’s not that I can’t gather mana at all, but accumulating a great amount like before is impossible.’

There are various devices developed so even people without innate mana can use simple magic. There are runes that gather mana and mana-stones that store mana for use.

But none of them can hold anywhere near that massive quantity of mana.

‘Then what am I supposed to do?’

I’d rewound time, and yet I’d lost the greatest defensive force in my body: mana.

‘Should I run right now?’

I thought of that, then shook my head. I had just returned to my home, but Diana had lived here all along. If I showed any sign of fleeing, everyone would inform Diana of my movement.

“Nelly!”
“Nelly, please listen to auntie!”
“Aunt? I’m your aunt!”

Even the horrible relatives would come after me.

‘So what on earth am I supposed to do?’

I sat there in a daze. Then a corner of the dark room flickered. I looked up.

It was the communication crystal Grisha had given me before I left the academy.

‘She joked whether it was okay to give me the world’s first one.’

It was comforting to receive contact while isolated. I crawled over and, as Grisha had explained, placed my palm against the crystal.

A calm voice flowed from the small orb.

—Sis.

The moment I heard that voice, my heart skipped like a stone hitting a pond.

“Grisha.”

—What’s wrong, sis?

As my composure crumbled, tears sprang to my eyes. When I began to choke up, Grisha’s voice grew serious.

—Sis, what’s happening? Is something really wrong?

“I don’t trust people.”

When the words came out, tears poured down as if they’d been waiting for the moment. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and told Grisha.

“I… want to go back to the academy.”

Ah, I never thought I’d say something like that in my life.

Only after becoming an archmage did I realize how hard it is not to be able to trust those around you.

I told Grisha the truth.

“It seems I cast too wide a spell; my mana’s completely drained so I can’t use magic.”

—You mean you can’t use magic at all?

“It’s not that. It just takes time to gather mana.”

—That’s a relief.

Grisha sighed in relief. Then, with a stiff voice, she asked:

—No one else knows this, right?

“Of course not. You’re the first I’ve told.”

It was strange. I couldn’t trust my family, but I could tell Grisha out there and trust her with it.

After listening to what had happened in silence for a while, Grisha spoke in a heavy voice.

—……I’ll come to you now.

What?

“No! No, you can’t! You know if you come out you’ll have to start all over again! They might never grant you the title of mage in your life!”

That felt like the harshness of a system where recognition by people mattered. If you quit halfway you’re slapped with the crime of being insolent.

‘Grisha’s worked so hard up until now. I can’t throw that away.’

That was why I endured my parents’ death and scraped by at the academy, grinding my teeth. If I turned away I would become zero.

Even when I panicked and tried to stop her, Grisha spoke in a heavy voice.

—Still, I can’t leave you alone.

“You’re saying I wouldn’t be allowed to be a mage! I can use magic, but I might not be recognized as one — what does that even mean!”

—Then live as your own mage, I suppose.

Seriously, that kid!

“If you come, I won’t be happy at all. I’ll just be grateful in my heart. Don’t come. If you do I’ll never look at you again.”

—Sis…….

I truly appreciated Grisha’s heart, but I couldn’t ruin Grisha’s life because of my situation.

After a short silence, Grisha sighed and said in a pained voice.

—I know you say that for my sake, but it breaks my heart to be powerless when you’re this troubled.

“Just listening to me like this means a lot. You’re the only one in the world who really knows everything about my situation.”

—Sis.

I meant it. I was glad Grisha genuinely cared.

‘Alright. Let’s cheer up.’

Just knowing someone was fully on my side and had worked toward becoming a mage for years and was willing to rush back warmed my heart. I consulted Grisha seriously.

“How can I survive until the inheritance is transferred without being murdered? Any good ideas?”

Smart Grisha summarized the problem’s core succinctly.

—First, you need to make it so there’s a reason you shouldn’t be killed until the inheritance transfer, or make it so there’s no need to kill you.

“Well, that’s the thing.”

The inheritance rights had already come to me, and at the academy the inheritance was simply held for three years — that had been the archmage’s will.

‘You can’t ask them to hand it over immediately. You can’t ask them to postpone the three-year term for something already vested.’

It had to be impossible to kill me and unnecessary to kill me.

When I rested my chin on my hand and groaned at how difficult that condition was, Grisha proposed an idea I hadn’t thought of.

—How about you just sleep soundly until the inheritance is transferred?

“Sleep? For three years?”

—You know what my research is about.

Grisha’s research was, of course, the effects of mana on the human body. She often came to me to take measurements because she needed to study how differences in mana amounts affected the body.

She asked in a serious voice.

—What if you fall into a coma from mana depletion? Since your mana is already at the bottom, isn’t that especially suitable?

That was a good idea.