The Rowling Family's idiot young master had driven away his learned tutor. In the past few days, it had become the Imperial Capital's best-known joke.

Plenty of idle gossips discussed the matter with malicious delight. Count Raymond of the Rowling Family was riding high; watching such an important man suffer a setback appealed perfectly to their meaner instincts.

The Count had also made a mistake. His lavish reward for anyone who could make his child speak had become a minor sensation. That affair had made the Rowling Family's idiot young master famous overnight—and a favorite subject of gossip.

Over the past two years, many families in the capital had taken to saying whenever a child was born, “Boy or girl, it doesn't matter, as long as the child is healthy... Just don't let it be a little idiot like the unlucky Rowling Family's.”

That day, Young Master Du Wei received another visit from his father. The man who came with the Count immediately made Du Wei dislike him. He wore a gray robe and a pointed gray hat, had shriveled fingers and cloudy eyes.

Everything about him carried an unpleasant air of decay and age. His chilling presence even made Du Wei sneeze hard.

“Mage Clark, this is my son.” The Deputy Commander of Imperial Headquarters and second-ranking man in the Empire's military spoke very politely to the man at his side. “Please see whether he has even the slightest future upon the sacred path of magic.”

The Count seemed to be out of options. This time, he had invited the famous Mage Clark of the Imperial Capital to teach his son.

If being a mage could be called a profession, it was undoubtedly one of the most respected—though much of that respect was tinged with fear.

Everywhere, mages were symbols of high status. They could stand as equals with any noble and receive the finest treatment. A powerful mage could serve the same purpose in war as a small army. Every ruler eagerly sought them out—not only because mages possessed extraordinary abilities, but because they posed no threat to a ruler's power.

Mages spent most of their lives researching magic or meditating to accumulate magical power. Almost none had ordinary worldly desires. They did not covet wealth; a competent alchemist could turn a worthless stone into a gem or gold with magic. Precious gems were no more than magical aids in their eyes.

Nor did mages crave power. Their greatest goal was to pursue the mysteries of magic, and worldly authority held no appeal for them. This pleased those in power all the more.

Throughout the world of Roland, mages stood among the most exalted of professions. Every powerful figure eagerly courted them and offered them the finest treatment.

But Count Raymond did not want his son to become a mage—not if there was any other choice left.

Nearly all mages were feared as... monsters. They were cold, solitary, eccentric, and disliked dealing with people. They shut themselves away and immersed themselves in magical research. No noble young lady wanted a romance with a monster who spent every day hidden in a laboratory. No noble banquet wanted a frigid mage there to ruin the mood. No emperor would grant a mage a title or appoint one to high Imperial office.

And Du Wei was his son, the heir to the Rowling Family. In time, he would need romance, marriage, children, the continuation of the family line, and all the social obligations of noble society.

But his son was an “idiot” who could neither learn martial arts nor study letters. It seemed that becoming a mage was his last remaining path to any sort of achievement.

If the great Rowling Family could add a master mage to its history... it might be an odd fit, but it would have to do.

With hopeful eyes, the Count watched Mage Clark lead his son into a prepared, sealed little room.

“All right, boy.” Once inside, Clark immediately took out a small bottle, poured a little golden powder onto his fingertips, and swiftly drew a large circle in the room. Then he turned to Du Wei. “I have cast a silencing spell. No one outside can hear what we say here.”

The mage, whose face carried a cold and forbidding air, stepped before the little boy. “Now tell me, boy. What is magic, in your heart?”

What was magic?

Du Wei hesitated. Truthfully, he was quite interested in this world's magic. He knew many magnificent legends about it. But what exactly was magic? In his impression, mages used it by chanting loudly, things like, “God of Wind, heed my summons...” Then came flying sand and tumbling stones, wailing ghosts and howling spirits—the usual spectacle.

Seeing that the child did not answer, Clark assumed the question was too profound for someone so young. He smiled and spoke in a low, slow voice. “Magic is the mystery through which the omnipotent gods allow humankind to unlock their revelations. It is the path by which humanity seeks the ultimate power of this world. It is the source through which we understand ourselves, understand the world, and uncover the greatest gift the gods have given humankind.”

The gray-robed Clark spoke with a note of holy reverence. Unfortunately, Du Wei remained unmoved. To him, the lofty speech sounded more than a little pompous.

The young Du Wei showed nothing on his face. His silence made the proud mage mistake it for fear, and Clark was pleased with the heir's reaction. He then took a crystal sphere the size of a fist from inside his broad gray robe.

“Mental power is one measure of a person's magical talent. It is not the only one, but it is the most important. Now, let me test your potential...”

Du Wei finally spoke. “Mental power? Magical power? But don't only mages possess magical power?”

Clark's eyes widened. “Who taught you such a wildly mistaken idea? Damn it—are there people in Count Raymond's household who lack even this much common sense?”

The mage was angered by such a basic error. “Mental power is what ordinary people call it; to a mage, mental power is magical power. Through meditation, a mage continually strengthens and increases his mental power. With a mental power beyond that of ordinary people, he senses the world, the mysteries of nature, and the various forces within it. Only those with strong mental power can do that. The accumulated mental power lets a mage perceive the world's magical elements more clearly. Magic is merely a set of methods by which a mage uses his mental power to command, or borrow, a little of the natural power in the world. That is magic.”

Du Wei sighed. “I understand. Mental power is magical power. And magical power is really a lever. A mage uses that lever to borrow nature's strength.”

Surprise appeared in Clark's cloudy eyes. “Unbelievable. A child of barely five... You are very clever. Why, then, does everyone call you an idiot?”

Du Wei did not answer. He only looked silently at the mage. The proud Clark did not waste time on such a minor question. After a moment of surprise, he dismissed it.

“This world—this natural world—contains countless magical elements. Every drop and fragment of them is a source of power. Rain, lightning, blizzards, gales, even the changes of sun, moon, and stars, the blooming and withering of flowers and plants... all of it is a source of natural power. An excellent mage can clearly sense every tiny movement in the world. Your ‘lever' is an interesting comparison. Simply put, the stronger your lever, the greater the natural power you can move. If the lever is weak, the natural power you can call upon is limited.”

Du Wei sighed again. “So that is how it is. I thought a mage's power came from his own magical power.”

Clark frowned once more. “I have to wonder who filled your head with such nonsense. What I just told you is common knowledge even to the lowest magic apprentice! ‘Power comes from one's own magical power'? My heavens... Remember this well: human strength is limited, even in the strongest person. Mages can accomplish what ordinary people cannot. A powerful mage can flatten a small hill with a wave of his hand or call forth a storm. But that is not the mage's own strength. Through magic, he borrows the natural power of the world. This world was created for us by the gods; in the end, a mage borrows the gods' power when using magic. Remember: humankind was created by the gods and can never possess a god's power. That is taboo. A mage's power comes from nature, and from the gods who created that nature.”

He lowered his voice and knit his brows. “I find it strange that the Rowling Family has produced a child so mistaken about common sense. If, after you become an adult, you still say things in public like ‘a mage's power comes from himself,' I cannot guarantee you will not be burned at the stake before the temple. At its root, those words question the gods.”

Du Wei closed his mouth. His expression returned to blankness, and he lowered his small head, hiding his true feelings perfectly.