SPELLCRAFT: Reincarnation Of A Magic Scholar

Chapter 1337 Grand Mage Of The Kingdom

"U-urgh…"

Neron slowly groaned as he opened his eyes.

He was currently lying atop a bed, and based on his brief notice of his surroundings, he was in a cool and dark room.

'T-this is…?'

The bed he laid on felt warm and soft. This was the first time he was experiencing a proper bed, so the sensation was foreign to him.

Other than that, though, he felt relaxed—safe—as the foamy mattress sucked him in.

'Where is this place? What's going on?' Neron's thoughts trailed.

Right as he was having these thoughts, he heard a freaking sound from the far end of the room.

A door was being opened, and someone was coming in.

"Arh!" Streaks of light found their way inside, causing Neron to wince at the sight.

As he covered his face with his hands, he heard a voice reverberate across the room.

"Sorry about that. I guess I should have knocked first."

The deep, yet soothing voice felt familiar.

Neron was sure that he had heard it before.

"I thought you were still asleep, so I just welcomed myself in…"

The man who said these things grabbed a chair that was located at a far corner of the room and brought it closer to the bed.

Neron watched all of this silently, his eyes slowly acclimating to the darkness.

Before long, he could properly see.

The stranger appeared to be in his early thirties, and while he had no beards, streaks of gray seemed to decorate his brown hair.

He was dressed in a plain white shirt and some casual trousers—a comfortable wear for someone who was in their home.

"This is your house?" Neron blurted out.

The man nodded as he sat on the chair.

"Correct." He said with a sigh. "Sharp lad."

Despite the small chuckles the man gave, Neron was not amused.

His vacant eyes stared at his benefactor as his mind traveled to the past.

"I see. So it wasn't just a dream. My friends, they're all dead, aren't they?"

As Neron muttered those words, the man fell silent.

"Yera, Legris, Kid… all of them… they're all gone now."

Being a five-year-old boy, it was perfectly understandable for him to weep for his dead friends.

No one in the room would judge, and he had every right to.

But Neron did not shed a single tear.

In fact, his voice was terribly calm as he mentioned those things—almost as if he was just stating facts.

This emotionless tone disturbed the man who watched him.

"I don't know who your friends are… but when I found you, you were the sole survivor of that explosion."

Neron remembered now. This was the man who appeared behind him right after he executed Me. Duffy.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"My name is—"

"Mordred Kaelid; Grand Mage of the Kingdom…" Neron whispered, interrupting the man before he could say another word.

For a moment, the two only stared at each other in silence.

"That's what you said before I passed out."

Grand Mage Mordred Kaelid—or Mordred for short—nodded slowly as he smiled at the young boy.

"You really are a sharp lad."

"My name is Neron." He responded calmly. "It's only right you know my name as well."

Mordred had never seen a five-year-old child act like this before.

He had a strange sense of maturity to him that felt unnatural. Still, Mordred pressed on.

"So, Neron… I brought you here after what happened because I feared you might have been injured."

"And?"

"You weren't. It doesn't seem like you suffered any injuries. Though, your Mana Core was almost emptied out."

"Mana… Core…?" Neron whispered, raising his brow.

"It's essentially the storehouse of your Mana. Once you Awaken, you form a proper Mana Core. I thought you would know that since you possess one already."

Neron raised his brow slightly, revealing he had no knowledge of such details.

"You really don't know…?"

Despite Mordred's inquisitive gaze on him, Neron shrugged slightly and cast his eyes towards the empty darkness before him.

"My Mana Core, as you call it, was probably drained because of the Blood Stone that Mr. Duffy wielded."

For a moment, there was silence.

"My friends, as well as several others, were used as a sacrifice for it. To give him power."

Neron's eyes, previously unperturbed, began to narrow in an expression of rage.

"All because of Magic."

After he said this, Neron fell silent.

Only the breathing of both parties could be heard for a while, as if one was waiting for the other to speak first.

"I see…" Mordred finally broke the silence. "Sounds like you've been through a lot."

"I live in the slums. What do you think?"

Despite Neron's very blunt reply, Mordred could not help but admire the child even more.

Something about him drew the older man closer.

"Do you want to go back?" He asked.

Neron turned to Mordred, his eyes now back to their stoic state.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes. You can stay here with me. Or… you can go back."

After giving him those two options, Mordred smiled and asked;

"What will it be, Neron?"

The boy contemplated for a moment and returned the question with another.

"Is it better here?"

Mordred could only smile, a twinkle appearing in his eyes.

"Of course."

"Then I would like to stay here."

There was no hesitation or fear in Neron's voice. It was almost as if he had already made his choice very long ago.

"Do you miss them? Your friends?"

"A little." Neron answered truthfully. "The more I let it settle in, the less it hurts. I think I should be fine after a few days."

Mordred was once again surprised by what he was hearing from this child.

"If this is your house, and I'm staying here with you, does that make you my adopted father or something?"

Mordred couldn't believe how forthright this child was being with him.

"Do you want to be my adopted child?"

"You said you're a Grand Mage. That sounds like an important title. If you're my father, doesn't that mean more benefits for me?"

At this point, it felt like Neron was the one in control of the conversation.

"A-actually, I'm just about to retire. I was on my way to the Royal Palace to announce my resignation when I spotted you and the explosion."

"I see…" Neron muttered.

"Are you disappointed?"

"A little."

"You don't want to be my adopted son any longer?"

Neron narrowed his eyes as he stared at the older man.

"A retired Grand Mage can still offer a lot of benefits as a father. It's not a bad deal."

For a moment, there was silence.

And then…

"Hahahahahahahahahahaha!"

Modred burst out laughing, unable to control the amusement that Neron was causing him.

"Never… never before have I met a kid like you! Hahahahaha!"

Neron watched in silence as the old man laughed his heart out. Once Mordred was done, he cleared his throat while keeping a smile on.

"And what's in it for me? If I offer you so many benefits, how's it a good deal for me?"

"I'm very talented in Magic. I'm sure you'd want a very capable heir as a son. Well, with enough formal education, I'm sure I can do that for you."

"And who says I don't have one already?"

"You said it yourself. You've never met a kid like me." Neron said, his face completely stoic.

He was perfectly serious.

'This kid…' Mordred couldn't help but tremble within for the slightest bit.

He didn't know if Neron was speaking merely from a child's sense of immaturity and entitlement… or if this was just the result of absolute confidence.

However, there was one thing that bothered him.

"I was of the impression that you didn't like Magic."

"What gave you that impression?" Was Neron's reply.

Mordred let out a slight chuckle.

He could see how the boy frowned when he mentioned Magic. Neron probably blamed the death of his friends on Magic, this despising the practice.

"You're not wrong. I don't like Magic."

If that was the case, then why would he want to be the child of a Grand Mage? Mordred wanted to know.

"You could say I have gotten curious. I genuinely want to know… what could push a man to go to such extreme lengths for such power? Why do the eyes of people glow so much when talking about Magic? What makes it so special?"

Neron seemed to be in contemplation as he uttered these words. Something else remained, but it seemed stuck in his throat somehow.

After a few seconds of silence, he finally said it.

"It's also… what my friends wanted. I want to do it for their sake. To fulfill their dreams, and to understand why they had it, to begin with."

Right now, Neron felt empty and purposeless.

The only reason he kept living was because of the lack of the very thing that everyone who had died possessed.

"This concept called Magic… I want to understand it."

Once he did, Neron thought he would perhaps be able to answer the question Mr. Duffy was unable to answer.

Mordred took his time to study Neron—especially looking at his eyes.

He could tell the boy was serious.

"I see. Very well."

The Grand Mage—soon to be retired—placed his hand on Neron's shoulder and smiled.

"Let's do that, then. Become my son, Neron."

Neron didn't smile back.

Perhaps it was because he was too tired, or he just didn't feel the need to.

His expression was simply blank.

Mordred didn't mind, though. These sorts of things took time, and they had enough of it.

'I just need to complete some paperwork, and it should be done…'

He was already getting pretty excited about the whole thing—perhaps even more than the boy who proposed the whole thing.

"From now on, you'll be called Neron Kaelid."

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[A/N]

And so, the tale of Neron Kaelid begins!

I hope you enjoy the story!