The Capture Target Only Loves Magic

1-20. Growth

It was April. The Testing, in March, was completely over. It was better in a lot of different ways. I sighed. The nobles stopped pestering me nearly entirely, which was a huge bonus.

Lionel was shown to have the Light attribute, the Holy attribute, which caused a huge commotion. He was even a double, which meant he had an extremely high chance to have 'Holy Power', basically it was the power to heal.

Faehnrut being a religious country, if Lionel had this power, then his being the next King was practically set. His hair was also almost translucent light yellow, which was the standard royal color of Faehnrut. Faehnrut was old fashioned. Ina's hair was also this color, but as a princess, a female, there would be less people willing to lift her to the throne.

Though I heard many countries were different, and in magic-developed countries women were actually much more highly regarded than men, Faehnrut wasn't one of them.

I sighed. That was also my problem right now. I sighed. The Holy Religion didn't encourage magic. It, of course, also didn't hate or ban it, but it was a little avoided. Skills like swordsmanship and from all the different magics, Light Magic and Holy Power were the most loved by the Religion. As women were mostly more adept at magic than men, and men were more adept physically, such a barrier was created.

It did make me unhappy. Why did I just have to get reincarnated in such a backwards non-developed country? I really desperately wanted to go to school at this rate. There were still nine years left, but the schools were the only place in Faehnrut where magic was greatly developed and commonly used.

The Academy was created separately from the country, so it had its own power. It was nonreligious, and in a way, also international, since it wasn't subjected to many of the laws in Faehnrut. In that sense, I supposed, it wasn't a Faehnrutian school at all, it was more of an international school situated in Faehnrut, the country of trade.

I sighed. I wanted to learn more about magic, do magic, but my core wasn't developed yet.

I didn't know what was wrong. My mana was suppressed inside my body to the point that it was almost solid. It dripped like condensed maple syrup, but surprise, surprise. There still wasn't any mana core.

The earlier the mana core is created, the more potential the child has, is a common saying in magic. I guessed this meant I had little potential, huh.

The common age was if early, ten to eleven, if late, around twelve to thirteen. There has never been an occasion when the mana core was created after fourteen years old. At that age, it meant the person had absolutely no talent for magic. No core.

It was rare for nobles, but I still wanted to avoid that at all costs.

The halls were getting rather desolate compared to before. The walls were empty of the tapestries that hung on them, the decorations and paintings were mostly gone. Pedestals were here and there, but statues were hard to see. The vases were replaced with cheaper pottery.

I remembered when there were once maids polishing the areas and dusting everything. Always noisy, always lively. Now the palace was silent. No footsteps or heavy breathing. The carpets were dusty and moth-eaten in some places, compared to the luster of before. The first floor hadn't changed, along with Mother's chambers, but our rooms were less flashily decorated.

Was it because I was getting older? I wondered. Or were my parents not paying attention to me anymore? Political reasons? It might also just be because Lionel was breaking all the fancy stuff. Not that I cared.

It was easier to go around removing small items like mana stones now. The maids and butlers of the palace seemed to have given up. A mana stone barely lasted me three to four hours, so now I had to go around taking a trip around the whole place at least once a week, taking one or two stones from place to place. I had to take measures soon.

I flopped back onto the sofa, in my hands was a magic stone the size of my fingernail. It shined for only a single moment before ultimately losing its glow. I put it in my pocket to bury tomorrow.

I moved my mana around. Up and down, like syrup, it flowed in the air. Like air, it was weightless. Like earth, it was heavy and moved slowly. Like fire, I winced. It hurt. I tried to evoke magic. I spoke to the mana, I 'willed it', I placed my hands and tried to pry some of the stuff off me, but it didn't work. Mana didn't listen.

It was as if magic was in a different dimension from me. I couldn't see it, touch it, none of my senses worked. I only somehow knew it worked. I knew when I was successful in moving it around or in pressuring it into a smaller circle.

If I could only get outside. I didn't have much money, but I could swipe one or two things. Most of the things I had weren't too expensive, but I could swipe the bigger mana stones and gems and trade them for stuff.

Yeah, if I could just go outside...

If I could just create my magic core...

I flopped onto my bed with an unhappy expression. I couldn't even go to the library nowadays, there was little to do. And I refused to play with toys with my siblings. Classes were a bore.

The door opened. "Your swordsman classes are starting soon, your Highness." Bertram said. My eyes turned into steel as I nodded. I stood up. My clothes were on, I was ready. I picked up my practice sword and walked outside.

Practicing swordsmanship doesn't allow your innards to be able to bear the weight and pressure of mana slowly pulverizing your body, trying to escape. Fighting was muscle power and breath, it was technique. It wasn't increasing the density of your body.

I was healthy and fit, and I healed quicker, that was true. It was helpful. But I was still young. I was an idiot to think that learning to hold a sword would help with magic.

I huffed after my two laps around the court. In reality what I did wasn't 'swordsmanship training'. It was easier to just call it fitness. Or even playing with the instructor. 'Classes' mostly consisted of me running for a bit, stretching, then practicing my stance and watching the knights duke it out. Only recently was I even able to pick up the practice stick.

"You have to swing it straight." Sir Noah said. My instructor changed, and now I learned together with Kai. I was happy with this arrangement. The previous instructor wasn't even fit to be called an instructor.

"Straight."

He demonstrated a very slow swing with the sword. I awkwardly swung my sword. Kai yelled as he swung his. There was more power in his swing than mine.

"Very good!" Sir Noah praised. "Keep your balance there." Kai righted himself. He had overdone it a bit. The instructor bumped him with his knee and Kai toppled over midswing. He stood up again, with an indignant look on his face.

"I was practicing!" he protested.

"It isn't practice if you can't keep your balance, is it?" Was what Sir Noah said. It was unfair. Even I would topple over if he pushed me, and I had Elian's excellent senses. The knight was just too strong.

"You have to lead it in this line, at this angle," noticing my weaker swing, Sir Noah guided the stick in my hands. He then picked up his own sword and mimicked my strike. "Not like this," The strike was weak and slightly crooked. His grip was loose. Then he tightened his grip. "Like this."

He swung fast, and at that moment, there was a swishing sound. The sword must be very heavy, I thought, but his footsteps were light and his swing was filled with power and accuracy. He was good, no doubt about it.

I tightened my grip and swung again.

"Better."

Kai yelled out as he struck a tree stump. There was a thump. Sir Noah grinned. I wiped the sweat off my face.

Class was over.