Chapter 25

It was an era when the power of mages was getting weaker and weaker. No longer could anyone bring forth rain from a clear sky nor move mountains with a single gesture.

The first mages, nearly godlike in their abilities, were a relic of the past.

This phenomenon was first noticed by the mages themselves. As the generations passed, the number of notable talents decreased significantly.

“The level of mages these days is no joke. It makes me wonder how some of them are accepted in the Tower.”

“We need an alternative. What if one day we just become… painfully average?”

“Nonsense! How can we, who have attained enlightenment, become like the ignorant?”

“You have a point. It’s just that there are relatively few skilled mages in this generation.”

Such debates were commonplace even within their circles. The opinions on whether the situation was temporary or not were sharply opposed.

However, all mages shared the concern that their position would be shaken. Mana was a natural force, magic an inborn capability. Numerous attempts had been made to discover how certain people were able to harness magic, but all of them had led to failure.

That was what made them anxious. If the source was unknown, it wouldn’t be strange if it suddenly disappeared for an equally unknown reason.

And as the demand for mages was decreasing, so was that anxiety exacerbated. They became less important as wars and territorial disputes decreased and technology became developed enough to be a cheaper alternative to hiring mages.

While mages were still necessary to deal with the reappearance of the monsters, and occasionally accepted as a king’s advisor, that was not enough.

Their status was definitely not the same as before.

“How is the situation in Ingelos? Don’t you think we should inquire?”

“I don’t know if they would answer. I’m afraid they wouldn’t care too much because their successor is apparently quite capable.”

“But the successor is still a child.”

“Still an Ingelos, though.”

The greatest mage family in the history of Gaius had produced powerful mages from generation to generation, but even their numbers were dwindling. Ingelos, who was on the extreme end of the stereotypically reclusive tendencies associated with mages, did not interact with the outside world. Only when they were summoned by the king did they sometimes attend court banquets.

“Will this successor enter the Tower?”

“Would they want to? It would be in vain.”

“But they’re still an Ingelos…”

Despite their arrogance, mages and mage families were all interested in having a connection with Ingelos, who possessed both power and an enormous amount of research in their archives and libraries.

So what about Ingelos themselves?

***

Ingelos, treated as the last bastion of magical power, was keenly aware of the issue of weakening powers.

As they had inherited the blood of the first great mage, they were in better shape than the rest, but that did not mean they were not suffering from the same problems, incapable of returning their family to its former glory.

They had spent many resources trying to strengthen the existing mages instead of waiting around for a renaissance. With their multiple failures, they had incurred huge debts and thus ended up like the rest, simply hoping that their bloodline would pull through.

“Richard isn’t there yet. He’s eight years old and still has to draw mana from someplace else to use magic.”

“His development is slow considering his age.”

The eldest son of the duke had shown great potential, capable of casting magic at an early age, but he did not turn out to be the genius of the century.

Richard’s parents were greatly disappointed that he did not seem to be fit to be an archmage.

That was not to say that the child was a poor mage. On the contrary, he was outstanding among his peers. The problem was that the duke and duchess had both been in the spotlight for being promising young mages, and Richard was the fruit of their union.

“Is he our best bet?”

“Maybe not.”

The two quickly agreed, their marriage turning into one big experiment.

Great mages were borne from great mages.

Their methodology began with immutable truth. The innate magic power in one’s bloodline was the most influential factor in the conception of a powerful mage. With some unusual exceptions, mages were consistently born only in mage families, their magical tendencies similar to that of their parents.

“Why don’t we conceive on the day when our magic is strongest?”

The couple, who had referred to various studies, established a hypothesis and began experimenting.

They first checked and tabulated the state of their magical powers by day and night and season. By collecting data and comparing their findings over the course of three years, they were able to see a pattern in their mana fluctuations.

Of course, similar studies had already been conducted, but they had never been linked to pregnancy. Based on their findings, Duke and Duchess Ingelos set a date for the first day of Almorius, the first month, four years later. It was because that was the day when the intersection of their powers was the most powerful.

Various reagents and magical rituals were utilized to increase the likelihood of pregnancy. The two mages went into the bedroom, having made sure that they had calculated the right dates for their second and third attempts.

Almost ten months later, a child was born.

***

The child, who had hair like strands of moonlight and clear red eyes, was born on the first day of winter.

While the conception was a success, it was not yet known whether their experiment was successful. Thus, Duke Ingelos prepared a huge mana stone.

Since it responded to magic by emitting light, it was possible to recognize a baby’s potential.

As the main members of the family watched, he placed the stone next to the newborn. Gazes of anticipation and skepticism alternated between the two in the crib.

When lots of time passed, they frowned one after the other.

“…!”

The mana stone suddenly began to shine. From a thin beam of light, it spread in all directions, illuminating the surroundings. It eventually shone so brightly that it was difficult to look at.

While everyone was mesmerized, Richard, now sixteen, picked up the mana stone and separated it from the child. The light faded and the stone regained its original black color.

“Did you all see it? Did you see that light?”

“It’s a success! It’s a huge success!”

“Oh, finally…!”

Those who came to their senses began to cheer.

It was very rare for a newborn baby to possess that level of magical power. Often, babies had insignificant levels of power even if they had the qualities of a mage.

The ducal couple was delighted with the result that exceeded expectations, naming the child after the middle name of the first Duke Ingelos.

News of an archmage’s birth spread not only within the main branch of the family, but to all of Ingelos and then some.

Alessia Ingelos.

Everyone thought that one with such an ambitious name would shine as that mana stone had forever.