It had been a week since Lucius had first gained access to the library. That was how long it took him to read his father’s life’s work. He had grown a certain respect for his father while reading the texts. They were simple and fundamental in nature, yet ground breaking considering they had come from a self-made man.

  His father had been born a commoner, in the harsh northern region of the Altorian Kingdom, one of the continent's major powers. The harsh climate of the north was ill suited for human civilization, so the kingdom considered the territory more of a frontier than a border.

  The remoteness of the region however did not mean that it was peaceful. Frequent raids from demi-human and monster tribes plagued the cities as much as run-away fugitives from all over the continent.

  It was in such a territory that Lucius’s father had managed to distinguish himself in the kingdom’s army. Though it took him nearly his entire life, he had managed to earn the noble title of Baron and been granted a fief in the northern territories. Along with his new noble title, he had been granted the family name of Ironside, which Lucius had now inherited.

  While the texts his father gave him offered Lucius his first insight about mana, one thing became clear. Only so much of his father’s technique could be learned from a book. For even a genius couldn’t truly practice swordsmanship without a sword. However, for the time being, he was simply too young to wield a sword. His father knew this as well which was why he allowed the boy to enjoy his youth and explore his interests before he was old enough to hold a sword.

  Lucius wasn’t dumb and had understood his father’s intentions. Since he was destined to live a life intertwined with the sword, he decided to use what little freedom he had left studying the other side of the aisle.

  There were many schools of combat in the world, yet the texts in the library made it clear that modern times were dominated by 2 primary schools: Mages and Swordsmen. While both powerful in their own right, they shared almost nothing in common with each other. The only thing they shared was the source of their power, mana. Yet even still, the 2 sides quarreled over how to correctly use the mysterious power.

  Swordsmen believed harnessing the raw power of mana was the most efficient way to utilize its strength. In contrast, mages saw mana as a tool, one that could be shaped to call upon the natural phenomena of the world.

  However something about this construction didn’t sit right with Lucius. The legends and ancient stories spoke of many more schools of combat lost to time. Among these lost schools, one stood out above the rest: spellblades. A Spellblade was the natural evolution of both prominent classes. With the power to both cast spells like a mage and wield mana in its raw form like a swordsman, it seemed to be the best of both schools.

  There was only one problem with spellblades, they simply didn’t exist. Or rather, they couldn’t exist. When one was born, their mana was soft and adaptable. A youthful core was free and untrained, like a child. It released mana in a broad spectrum of forms. However, as the person got older, their core would stiffen and the mana channels in their body would adapt to suit one path, either spell casting or physical exertion.

  Because of this, those who practiced a great degree of spell casting, would find exerting their mana for sword techniques increasingly difficult and vice versa for swordsmen. It was as if the 2 schools were incompatible. They both used the same mana, but something was different about it.

  The well known phenomena had been dubbed “core lock”, and was the reason why children were encouraged to pursue only one path. Those who chased both schools would find themselves at a loss. Like a hunter who chases 2 rabbits at the same time, they would soon find themselves with nothing.

  It seemed to make sense at a glance, but there was one glaring problem in the story. If it was so impossible to reconcile the 2 schools, then how had it been done before? The un-answerable question led both schools to simply write off spellblades as a myth. A fantasy ancient historians had simply mistaken for fact.

  It was when faced with this problem that Lucius encountered the first great challenge of his new life. ‘It should make sense, but it feels fishy. If spellblades are simply a figment of some author’s imagination, why do they appear again and again in legends. If every myth contains a shred of truth, then perhaps there is something I’m missing.’ Lucius thought to himself.

  He scoured the library for texts on spellblades, but he couldn’t find a single one. It was as if they were only seen within children’s books. Frustrated, he returned to the heart of the problem, mana. He scoured numerous texts looking for any mentions of mana.

  It was the only commonality between the 2 schools, the only possible link of incompatibility. Yet every lead he followed led him back into the shoes of thousands of scholars before him. Just what made the mana of a mage and swordsman so different? What caused core lock? What even was core lock? The questions echoed through his mind.

  It was clear that it wasn’t going to be an easy question to answer, but fortunately he had time, and even more fortunately, a young core to experiment with.

  Having completed his father’s crash course on mana from the eyes of a swordsman, the natural next step was to seek one of a mage’s. Fortunately his Father’s library did not disappoint. Despite being a house of swordsmen, his father had clearly been well read, or at least that’s how he wanted it to appear.

  Either way Lucius grabbed the simplest text on spellcraft he could find. The title read “Magecraft, a guide for self-mage men.” Despite the pun on its cover, upon closer inspection it was a real textbook.

  Lucius followed the instructions on its pages, just like he had done for his father’s books before. Before long, he felt it: the mana of a mage. It swirled much in the way that it had using his father’s technique, yet somehow different.

  From the technique to detect, grasp, move, and shape the mana, everything was different from the way he had learned from his father’s method. The mana felt familiar yet different, like the difference between water and oil, except far more subtle. Whatever it was, Lucius just couldn’t seem to put his finger on it.

  In hopes it would lead to more clues, he continued following the book's instructions. From channeling to shaping, he crafted as simple a spell as the book offered. A magic circle formed in the air in front of him, its gaps graced with runes of mana.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Out from its center a small fire arose, no larger than the flame of a candle. Yet it had been conjured from seemingly nothing, simply mana shaped as if to call upon the world to fulfill its request.

  When he released the spell, the fire vanished along with the circle that had spawned it, and so too did Lucius’s hopes of finding another clue.

  Before going any further, Lucius had to make a decision. Continuing to research magic could pose a grave risk to his future. If his hunch had turned out to be wrong and there was no way to reconcile the 2 schools, he could end up hastening his core lock, and shut off the path to swordsmanship, his only inheritance.

  The decision was not to be made lightly and so without further progress, he decided it would be best to wait. He could continue to study both schools from a distance, while also continuing to accumulate mana on the daily. Whatever path he decided to take, having more mana in one's core was never a bad idea, or so he thought.

  Until one day something went wrong. As he was accumulating mana a sharp pain radiated out from his mana core, breaking his focus. Lucius sprawled onto the floor writhing in agony.

  The pain grew by the second as he could feel his mana core bursting at the seams. The surface of his core grew in size, unable to contain the mana inside of it.

  The shape of his core warped back and forth, each time making it painfully obvious to Lucius. Just when he thought he was going to die, something unexpected happened.

  As if to right a wrong, the ambient mana in the air around him began surrounding his core, this time however, he had not called it. The mana swirled itself around his core, solidifying and squeezing as it spun.

  It hadn’t been until the process was finished that Lucius realized what had happened. As if intending to restore balance, the ambient mana had forced its way inside of him. The mana solidified and compressed his core until it restabilized, forming another concentric sphere over the first in the process.

  Having survived what he considered a near death experience, Lucius got up to check his surroundings. He was still in the library, and to his relief, no-one had seen the ordeal.

  Unable to chalk the experience up to a bad heart burn, he scoured the library once again for knowledge on mana cores. Eventually he found a passage that seemed to resonate with the incident.

  The text revealed that the mana core naturally underwent cycles of expansion and compression. When a mana user had accumulated enough mana, their core would become too large to maintain its form.

  When this mana overload occurred, ambient mana would rush to rectify the issue, restoring balance to the core. While he found the whole process strange, it was hardly any stranger than the existence of the mana core itself.

  Satisfied with the answer he had received from the book, Lucius returned to his mana accumulation after he was sure the pain had subsided.

  However something now felt different. The process worked as smoothly as it had before the compression, only now the mana had become clearer. It was easier to command than before, moving in an increased flow.

  Once again his core felt empty, much like it had when he first discovered its existence. Lucius continued to feed his core, upholding his routine, undeterred by the scare.

  And so another 2 years of his childhood passed without incident, and Lucius had turned 8 years old in the process. He continued to spend his time reading, educating himself on the world around him. What little time he spent outdoors was mainly devoted to exercise, worrying his parents in the process.

  His apparent lack of social skills was a glaring fault for a noble in the eyes of his parents. They had hoped he would rectify the issue by himself, but it had become clear that without their intervention, nothing would change.

  Luckily they had been presented with an offer that they hoped would solve his introvertedness. Being a new noble household, the Ironsides had virtually no political weight in the kingdom. With no connections and a weak economy, the only protection they benefited from was their fief’s lack of perceived value.

  It was under those circumstances that Baron Ironside had received an offer from a neighboring fief. The nearby Astoll Viscounty had proposed and arranged marriage of the two houses, and the Ironsides had little reason to refuse.

  The Viscount Astoll was well connected in the kingdom’s northern territories, and despite the seeming insignificance of the Ironside Barony, the Viscount saw it differently.

  Sure, the territory itself was unimpressive, but to gain Baron Ironside as an ally, a well respected commander of the north, made the trade more than worth it in his eyes. His second daughter had turned 8 as well and no matter how small the house, being married to an heir was by no means a bad arrangement.

  The Ironsides were naturally suspicious of the Viscounts's motivations, but at the same time they weren’t inclined to refuse. To do so could have created the first enemy for their house which had no allies. In some naive dream, they had also hoped the young maiden would be able to thaw the cold heart of their ice prince.

  And so the young girl had been sent to the Ironside house with gifts from the Viscount. It was more of a ceremonial affair, the young couple wouldn’t actually get married until they had come of age, but in order to foster a relationship, the 2 would be forced to spend a month together.

  When Lucius had learned of the news, he was furious. Not only had he been betrothed without his consent, but it was to some brat who he hadn’t even met. The reason he had not spent time with any of the other kids his age, was simply because he couldn’t stand them.

  Naturally with the mind of an adult, he found the other children to be immature at best. More concerned with his future, he had shut himself away in his library to the dismay of his parents. Having learned that he would essentially be forced to baby sit some brat, it took all his strength to contain his anger.

  But alas, Lucius knew he had no right to refuse. In a medieval society, he was legally no more than his father’s property. And despite his reservations, he realized that if he had been in his father’s shoes, he would have done the same thing.

  The day of the Young Astoll’s scheduled arrival had come, and Lucius found himself at the mercy of his mother and the family maids. Like a mannequin at a clothing shop, he was squeezed in and out of every type of clothing he could have thought of and a few he couldn’t.

  “Hold still. Do you want to leave a bad impression? Everyone knows that the clothes make the man.” His mother pestered him while slipping him into a suit.

  “Is this too casual? I think it’s too casual. What do you think?” The woman hurried back and forth seeking the approval of the maids along the way.

  Lucius had considered the event nothing more than a bother, but he found his mother’s anxiety frightening, so he dared not interfere with her antics. After squeezing him in and out of dozens of outfits, she had finally settled on one and Lucius had been allowed to rest.

  He sat on the bench in the dressing room with a sigh of relief, and began accumulating mana. He found the experience meditative and he had been forbidden from the library for a day, since his parents feared he would never leave if they had let him inside.

  In the 2 years that had passed since his first compression, he had only managed 1 more compression, bringing the total number of layers in his core to 3. It was evident that each compression would take more time than the last.

  A call from his mother signaled the end of his free time. Now it was time to fulfill his familial duties. With a sigh, he sluggishly made his way to his feet. Only one thought crossed his mind: ‘Let’s just get this over with.’