Reborn Logic

At the age of seven, Kallen had already exceeded every expectation placed upon him.Kallen's development continued to astonish his tutors. Despite his outwardly cold and calculating demeanor, he had mastered his studies across multiple fields—mathematics, history, and elemental theory—displaying a sharpness that unnerved even the most seasoned scholars of House Solen. His intellect was unnervingly sharp, his ability to mimic human emotions impeccable, and his reputation in the Sullen household had solidified him as a prodigy. Yet, Lord Erlen Sullen, his father, knew that this was merely the beginning. The true journey lay ahead, in mastering the enigmatic forces that governed their world.

One evening, Lord Erlen summoned Kallen into his private study. The room was dimly lit, heavy curtains drawn to block out the fading sunlight. Incense filled the air with a faint aroma, and shadows danced on the ornate furniture as flickering candlelight illuminated ancient tomes lining the walls. This was the heart of Erlen’s domain, a sanctum where only the most trusted individuals were allowed. Kallen, by now, had become familiar with this room, associating it with solemn conversations and pivotal moments. Tonight was no different.

Lord Erlen stood before a massive, intricately carved desk, his hands clasped behind his back. His presence, though calm, radiated a subtle authority that Kallen had come to respect. The man was not only a formidable political figure but also a seasoned practitioner of arcane knowledge. His mind was sharp, honed through years of dealing with court politics and navigating the treacherous currents of power in Eurythia.

"Kallen," Lord Erlen began, his voice quiet but commanding. "You have succeeded in your studies. Far beyond what most children your age could achieve. However, learning is only the surface. True power lies in discipline."

Kallen met his father’s gaze, his expression unreadable, though behind his composed façade, his mind was racing. He had long anticipated this conversation, sensing that his father’s tutelage would extend beyond mere academic pursuits. He had mastered basic theories, history, and politics with ease. But all of it felt like a prelude to something much greater—a prelude to power.

Erlen’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and caution as he regarded his son. He knew that Kallen was not merely a gifted child, but someone destined for far more. The boy had the potential to surpass even the greatest practitioners of his time, but raw talent alone was never enough. Discipline was key, and Erlen understood the importance of guiding Kallen down the path of power with a firm but careful hand.

Turning from his son, Lord Erlen moved to a shelf, retrieving a small, translucent orb from behind a set of scrolls. He held it up for Kallen to see. “This will tell us if you are ready,” he said, his voice carrying an air of finality.

Kallen’s eyes narrowed as he studied the object. He recognized it immediately.

The orb, known as the Mana Ball, was a rare and precious artifact. Crafted from a unique mineral found only in the deepest, mana-rich mines of Eurythia, it was used to measure an individual’s potential to walk the Mystical Path. However, the Mana Ball was not just a tool for gauging talent—it was a test, one that could only be administered to those who showed true potential. But it was consumable and had limited uses. Its rarity made it an object of both reverence and caution, for it could not be wasted on the unworthy.

Kallen’s mind shifted into analysis mode, his artificial intelligence running countless calculations in the blink of an eye. He observed the intricate lines of energy that swirled faintly within the ball. This was not just a test of magical aptitude; it was a gateway—a threshold that separated the ordinary from the extraordinary.

“Place your hand upon it,” Lord Erlen commanded, his voice unwavering.

Without hesitation, Kallen reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool, glass-like surface of the orb. As soon as his palm made contact, the orb began to glow faintly, the light growing brighter with each passing second. The once-dim room was now bathed in a soft, ethereal light, the orb trembling ever so slightly in his grasp as it resonated with his inner spiritual energy.

Kallen felt the subtle pulse of mana flowing through him, a sensation both foreign and familiar at the same time. It was as if a dormant part of him had been awakened, the energy coursing through his veins like a slow, deliberate river.

Lord Erlen watched closely, his stern expression softening ever so slightly as the light intensified. For a brief moment, pride flickered in his eyes. “It is reacting,” he said, his tone measured but laced with approval. “You have the potential to walk the Mystical Path. But this is only the beginning.”

As the light from the orb faded, Erlen placed it aside, now devoid of its original luster. It had served its purpose, and Kallen had passed the first of many tests to come. But Erlen was not finished yet. From within his cloak, he produced a small vial filled with a dark, shimmering liquid. The substance inside seemed almost alive, swirling with an unsettling energy.

“This,” Erlen said, handing the vial to Kallen, “is an Awakening Potion. It is brewed from rare herbs and mystical ingredients, some of which were obtained at great cost. You will drink this once a month. It will prepare your body to withstand the strain of mana. Without it, your physical form would collapse under the pressure of what you are about to undergo.”

Kallen took the vial, his expression calm though his mind continued to race. The Awakening Potion was no ordinary concoction. It was a carefully crafted elixir designed to enhance the body’s capacity for mana manipulation. In the world of Eurythia, where power was everything, such potions were highly sought after and closely guarded by those who held the knowledge to brew them.

But Kallen knew better than to view this gift lightly. His father was offering him a path—a path that, if followed correctly, would lead him to power beyond imagination. But that path was fraught with danger. The risks were high, and failure meant death. Kallen understood the stakes perfectly.

“There is a process,” Lord Erlen continued, pacing the room with deliberate steps. “To walk the Mystical Path, you must first awaken your inner potential by opening your ‘Mental Realm.’ This is the core of your spiritual being. Only then can you engrave the Three Basic Symbols of Power within it. This is the foundation of the Awakening Phase.”

Kallen listened intently, absorbing every word. He had read about the Mental Realm in ancient texts, but hearing it from his father added a new layer of significance. The Mental Realm was not just a metaphor—it was a real, tangible space within one’s soul where power could be cultivated. Engraving the Symbols of Power was a delicate and dangerous process, one that required precision and discipline. One mistake could lead to catastrophic failure.

Erlen continued, his voice growing more intense. “Once you undergo the Awakening Stage, your journey will truly begin. But be warned: this path is unforgiving. Fail, and you will die. Succeed, and you will open the door to even greater power.”

Kallen nodded, his mind already calculating the risks and rewards. He had always known that discipline and preparation were key to success. Now, more than ever, he understood that these traits would determine his survival.

“Your physical training will begin tomorrow,” Erlen said, his tone final. “Ser Borwin will oversee your exercises. You will take the potion monthly. This process will not be rushed. Your foundation must be solid before you can proceed.”