CH10

“Catch me if you can!” A girl could be seen playing with her friends in the city square. It seemed they were playing catch.

“Why do you run so fast?” a boy asked, chasing after her and catching his breath.

The sun was high; the noon was young, basking the land in warm light. Birds flew high in the sky, seeking the day’s meal.

The square wasn’t quiet. Quite the opposite—it was filled with chit-chat. Merchants sold their items, farmers sold produce, and couples strolled on dates. The aroma of fruits and bread filled the air, mingling with the children’s laughter.

“Because you’re way too slow~” she said with a smirk.

Looking back to see her friend far behind, exhausted—

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, hitting a pole. Guess not looking forward wasn’t a good idea when running.

The girl tumbled down. But before she hit the ground... she didn’t.

“Woah!” she screamed, floating in the air.

“How are you floating?” the boy asked between breaths.

“How would I know?” she replied, flailing her arms around.

“Rose, it’s time for lunc—” a woman called out, looking for her daughter.

“Mom! I’m floating!” a young Rose responded.

Rose’s mom, hearing this, rushed to the site. But it wasn’t what she expected.

Instead of a cheery child floating and smiling, she saw her daughter cough blood, bent over on the floor.

The boy backed away, alarmed at the sight.

“ROSE!” her mother shouted, dashing toward her child.

—

Some time later

Rose’s parents waited anxiously in front of a room. A red cross was carved into the wooden door. They were nervous, fiddling with their fingers.

A man walked out of the room, wearing green cloth with a red cross on his shirt.

After sighing, he said, “I have good news and bad news.” He paused.

“What would you like to hear first?”

“The good one?” Rose’s father answered without hesitation.

“Congratulations, your daughter has awakened her magic. She’s an air mage,” he said with a bitter smile. The parents’ faces lit up a little—but only for a second.

“What about the bad one?” Rose’s mother asked quietly.

The smile vanished.

“Her body is weak to mana. Very weak,” he said. “When she tries to form spells, the pressure will rupture her veins.”

Their faces dropped.

“But she used spells before!” Rose’s father said. “She can light fires and activate mana stones!”

“We have no idea, sir,” the man replied. “But repeating it could be dangerous—fatal, even.”

“Is there no cure?” her mother demanded.

“We’re sorry.”

The man walked away, leaving the parents in silence.

They walked into the room, seeing their daughter playing with a mage doll. Their hearts were broken. But reality is often harsh.

She smiled; they smiled back. But not without sadness.

They were told she would fly high like birds in the calm breeze. That dream had been shot down—by a gust of wind. Their daughter would never fly.

In a world where everything relied on spells, she was disabled.

“Honey,” her father leaned in closer, holding her hand.

“Yes, Dad?” she replied.

“Promise me,” he said, “You will give that dream up.” A tear ran down his face.

—

Years later, Vandalia’s Residential District

A grown-up Rose rushed to her father’s office, excited. She burst through the door. “Dad, I got into the Capital University!”

“That’s my girl!!” he said, looking up at her, also excited. “Well? What faculty? Dad will support you all the way!”

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He took off his glasses. Whatever she chose, he would support her. Well, except for one.

“I got into the Faculty of Magic!” she said proudly. But her dad’s response was not what she expected.

“What? Why?” His excitement dropped. His fears were true—she hadn’t given up the dream.

Rose was taken aback. She explained, “Well, I just find it very interesting and cool—”

“You will not attend the Faculty of Magic,” her dad replied with a stern look. “Not in this life.”

“Dad! Didn’t you tell me you would support me?” Rose raised her voice.

“I did! But NOT this faculty! You can go to the Faculty of Swords, Arts, Alchemy—anything but Magic!”

“Will you tell me why? Will you tell me why you crush my dreams? WILL YOU TELL ME—”

Her father slammed his fist on the table. The bang sliced through her words.

“ENOUGH! Go to your room!” he ordered.

Rose stormed out the door, leaving it wide open. Her harsh footsteps faded away.

“Are you okay, dear?” her mother walked in. The chaos had subsided. Papers were scattered across the desk, some even on the floor.

A groan escaped from his mouth, his elbow on the table, his face in his palm. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You don’t want to tell her the truth?” she asked.

“I don’t want to shatter that dream,” he replied. “I don’t want to hurt her with the truth.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

“Yeah.” He slid his hands down the table, grabbing the papers.

As he grabbed the last one, he read it and placed it on the stack.

‘Rampant monsters destroy the peace in Grinda!’

“I’ll get the knights to deal with this tomorrow.”

—

That night, a beach near Grinda

“What should I say to convince him?” Rose asked her friend.

“I really have no idea,” the now-grown boy beside her replied. “Are you sure about it? Don’t you like alchemy too?”

“But I like magic moooooore,” Rose groaned in frustration. “Besides, you’re moving to the Pythagorosa Empire, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Huh.” Rose chuckled. “I’m the only one left on this damn island.”

She looked toward the dark sea, memories of her friend group reflecting on the surface like moonlight.

So beautiful while the night lasted. But the night would end. Time waits for no one. Those were the days when their friends would meet in the square and play for hours until sunset.

Those times were long gone, washed away by the flow of time.

“Brings back memories,” the boy exclaimed, leaning back into the sand. He lay down, looking at the full moon above.

“So, tell me, why do you like magic so much?” he asked.

“What kind of question is that? You sure you want to hear me ramble forever?” Rose replied.

“Do it,” he said with a grin.

“Alright then. Magic is…” And she went on.

Loud and clear.

The boy, lying down, smiled at the sight. Something throbbed in his chest. A warmth enveloped him. A feeling that had been growing for years.

For the girl in front of him.

For the one speaking her heart out.

For her.

She was as beautiful as he remembered—like a blooming flower in season.

His grin was so wide his cheeks might tear.

Rose turned to face him, noticing the smile.

“Hey, what are you smiling about?” she asked.

It was all or nothing. He might not get another chance.

“I have something to say,” he said nervously. His face blushed red—but under the night, she wouldn’t notice, he thought.

“I… I—”

The leaves twitched from the nearby forest. A chilled wind blew across the beach. The two were startled and turned toward the forest.

A bone-shaking screech followed. And then the screecher appeared.

“What the hell is that?!” Rose quickly stood up.

The boy got to his feet, activating his light mana stone. He shone it at the forest.

An insect appeared. A big one. The size of a small hut. Two horns on its head. Sharp mandibles protruded from its mouth.

Suddenly, it dashed forward. The boy prepared to grab Rose and run.

FWOOSH!

The insect’s body was pierced. A magic circle dimmed at Rose’s fingertips.

The boy’s eyes widened, watching the insect fall lifeless to the ground.

“That was cool! Was that your wind magic?” the boy asked.

“Hell yeah,” she replied proudly. “I came up with it on my own—”

A piercing pain swept through her body. She coughed blood. Her arm cracked open. Her vision faded.

As suddenly as her magic flared, her body collapsed onto the sand.

—

Some time later

She opened her eyes. A familiar ceiling. Her father sat crying beside her bed.

He looked up and saw his daughter awake.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, swiping tears from his face.

“A bit tired. What happened?”

“You… you passed out on the beach. Blood poured from you.”

“What about him?”

“The boy left this morning. He did come to visit you.”

Relief filled Rose. At least he was safe.

Silence. Rose thought of what went wrong. Was the magic circle flawed? Did she use too much mana?

“Rose, I have something to say,” her father said. Tears welled in his eyes again. “Your body… it can’t use spells. Your veins can’t handle mana pressure.”

Silence filled the room once more. Her father’s cries were the only sound.

Inside Rose’s mind, her world shattered. Her dream of becoming a mage vaporized.

‘What do you mean my body can’t use magic?’ she thought.

What was this fate? Was it playing a cruel trick? Why must it be this way?

A mage without mana is a chef without taste.

Her eyes stared blankly at the wall. “Is it true?”

“Yes. You were diagnosed when your magic awakened. I’m… I’m sorry for not telling you.” He grabbed her hand. “But promise me one thing, alright?”

She turned to look at her father. Though her mind was still at the wall, she heard his words.

“Don’t use your magic again.”

—

Back on the NRS Dunkirk

“Rose, what are you doing?!” Mark yelled. “You’re going to die!”

“Heh.” She turned toward him. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

“But this is Grinda’s final goodbye.”

Blood poured from her arms. The old wounds ripped open once more. But this time would be bigger. More powerful.

Her skin started to melt, exposing muscle underneath.

“I’m giving you all a show of a lifetime! This mage shall take you all on!” she exclaimed, laughing hysterically.

A ball of wind shot into the air, piercing Scourge in its path.

BANG!

The ball exploded. Its shockwave crushed the Scourge to husks. Their bodies sank beneath the waves.

And the night became still once more.

Blood pooled on the deck.

Rose collapsed.

Mark rushed to her side. She was smiling.

“Heheh…” she uttered, gurgling on her blood. “At least… I did it.”

In the end, she achieved what she strived for.

A dream from when she was little.

A dream that had been crushed.

But her body couldn’t hold its weight.

“Let me help you, Rose,” Mark said, fumbling for a red vial.

“No… no… don’t,” she replied. “It’s how we Grindans treat visitors.”

Death opened its arms. She would not refuse it.

Tears rolled down Mark’s face, hitting the deck.

“Give it to Paul.”

Mark ran over to Paul, unconscious. He fed him the red liquid. Blood stopped pouring from his leg.

A soft laugh escaped Rose. Her final breath.

“George… George,” she whispered. “I know what you were going to do… that night…”

The ship fell silent. Thick and heavy. Like the hand of God was pressing down on Mark.

He gritted his teeth, stomping the deck in frustration. The crew didn’t dare to come out.

Mark pulled Paul to the side of the wheelhouse, resting him against the wall. He then sat down, staring at the wooden deck.

“Oh, why has God abandoned us,” he said, his tears falling like a waterfall. But they never relieved the lake of sadness.