Episode 13: Eun-byeol's Story

Eun-byeol's parents were people who admired mages.

*'They say Byeol-i tested positive for Ether Synchronization Rate, so she can become a mage~'*

*'How wonderful, Byeol-a. Grow up to be a fine mage, won't you?'*

But for all their admiration.

They seemed to have little understanding of what a mage's life actually entailed.

They didn't know that a positive Ether Synchronization Rate was merely a starting point.

The prestigious academy she entered at age seven was full of children with far greater talent than Eun-byeol.

Her own talent was a paltry thing—enough to stand at the starting line, and nothing more.

*'It's okay, Eun-byeol. You can raise your synchronization rate with effort.'*

But after three years at the academy, Eun-byeol knew the truth.

Someone with as little talent as her could never go pro.

Her only remaining hope was that her Image Core might prove useful enough to get her selected as a support-type mage.

Yet even that hope had shattered to pieces recently.

What Eun-byeol had seen inside her own Foundation was a tiny courtyard blanketed in thick, drifting white snowflakes.

Fragile. Useless.

An image that resembled her all too well.

*'White snowflakes. That's my image.'*

Far from being useful, she couldn't even imagine what kind of magic she was supposed to develop from it.

*'They say the genius Lee Se-ra has a magnificent image—like a supernova.'*

And here she was, with nothing but pale white snowflakes.

*'But I can't give up.'*

Her parents were sacrificing so much for her sake.

The tuition at a prestigious academy was astronomically expensive, and her parents were bearing every last bit of it on their own.

So even if her body broke in the process, she had no choice but to keep running.

For this seven-year-old girl, the option of running away had never existed to begin with.

Today, too, she was simply going through the motions of her meaningless magic practice—when it happened.

*Splash—*

A Level 1 Water Splash from the hand of Myeong-hyeok, the class ringleader.

As the water hit her, she thought:

*'I wish I could cast magic like that…'*

If she got soaked like this every single day, maybe her image would change?

Maybe these warm, gentle snowflakes would melt away, and the moments of being bullied would become her image instead.

*'They said an image never changes. But that doesn't mean it's absolutely impossible.'*

She was thinking that when the child she'd given candy to earlier stepped in.

"Hey, you little brat."

The child appeared out of nowhere and picked a fight without a moment's hesitation—then knocked down Myeong-hyeok, the strongest among the ten-year-olds.

*Smack—*

"Whoa, is she some kind of athlete?"

"Shouldn't someone stop this?"

"Let him take a few hits. He kind of had it coming."

"Fair enough."

The other children seemed to think she was a sports kid.

But Eun-byeol could tell—a gentle ripple of Ether was spreading out from around her.

*'That's Casting Hold… the thing Teacher mentioned…'*

*Thwack—*

"Stop it! Waaaaaah! Teacher!"

The child didn't stop even as Myeong-hyeok started crying.

The protective barrier finally broke, and the child's fist connected directly with his face.

*Crack—*

The boy was sobbing so hard he wet himself.

"Good heavens…"

Eun-byeol could see it clearly.

The Ether rippling outward, still and calm, as if frozen in time.

It was unmistakably more beautiful than the waves their teacher had demonstrated.

*Smack—*

After that satisfying sound, the little one's lecture came flying in.

"Listen here, you little punk. In this harsh world, you'd best be wary of women and children."

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

"And if she's a woman *and* a child, she's nothing short of a monster—so remember that well. Consider it friendly advice."

The little one spoke in that peculiar manner of hers as she brought her fist down on the boy's cheek.

*Smack—*

"Waaaaaah!"

"A boy with something between his legs, crying like that! The protective magic kept it from even hurting, didn't it?!"

"You're the one who broke it!"

"Ah, is that so. Weaker protective magic than I expected."

"It was a Level 5 spell!"

The boy's face, hauled upright by the little one's hand, was swollen all over.

There was no way it didn't hurt.

"Hmph! It's not like any bones are broken or muscles are torn—why are you crying so pitifully?! Tsk. At your age, a little spit is enough to heal it. I barely tapped you, and you're blubbering like this."

As the little one kept talking, the supervising mage teacher came rushing over.

"Good heavens, what on earth is going on here!"

As the other children explained the situation, the supervising mage—Ye-jeong—scolded the child.