Chapter 6: Within the Pages and Beyond Time

  Five years old. For most brats from noble families, this was the phase of playful discovery, of grass-stained knees in immaculate gardens, and of the first realization that the world was a big, scary place. But for Ren Valerius—or rather, Keinji, a man whose soul still operated under the rigid standard operating procedures of a sergeant and the logistical coldness of an event coordinator—this was Phase 2: Power Accumulation and Academic Infiltration. He knew he had a tight two-year strategic window before things got serious at age seven, when official combat training would drag him from the shadows to the rough gravel of the training grounds.

  Even though he had deeply absorbed Marquis Arthur's lecture on humanity and the importance of connecting with ordinary people, Keinji's survival instinct was a beast that refused to be fully tamed. He respected Arthur immensely; the man reminded him of Victor, his father on Earth—that specific blend of unquestionable authority and a heart that, though shielded by nobility, melted when it came to family. And it was precisely in this "weak point" that Ren executed his greatest tactical masterpiece.

  In the eight months that followed his failed "information extraction" mission at the library, Ren donned the mask of the "Humble Prodigy." In the courtyard, he wielded wooden swords with the coordination of an ordinary child, deliberately underestimating the balance and spatial awareness his military training had given him. He loosened up in games of tag with the other children and spent hours chatting with the guards. He didn't act like an arrogant nobleman; he was a curious apprentice, absorbing stories from the world beyond the walls—territory he was not yet allowed to explore.

  His tactic of "manipulation through humility" was spot on. One afternoon, under the golden glow of the sunset, Marquis Arthur found him helping an elderly maid carry heavy linen baskets. The great warrior's heart practically melted. His eyes gleaming with a pride he could barely contain, Arthur knelt before his son right there in the hallway.

  "Ren..." said the Marquis, his voice choked with emotion. "I see that your heart is firm and your mind seeks the light without trampling on those below you. From today onwards, the Central Library is open to you. Go, my son, but I ask this of you: take care not to lose yourself in the arrogance that excessive knowledge can bring."

  Ren bowed with such perfect reverence it deserved to be in a museum, his face radiating the purity of a true angel. Inside, however, his inner Brazilian was screaming "GOOOOOAL!" at the top of his lungs. Early access: unlocked.

  The River of Time: Studying the Ages

  ?Crossing those double oak doors didn't just reveal bookshelves; it revealed a new theater of operations. The library was an expanse of polished hardwood and the intoxicating scent of ancient paper, housing thousands of volumes bound in leather and gold. It was there he found his brother, Kael, who spent his days buried in massive tomes about medicine, mechanical tech, and forgotten lore.

  ?The weeks flew by as autumn painted the estate’s trees in shades of copper and crimson. The relationship between the two brothers became a single, functional organism of study.

  ?"Kael, what’s got you so hooked on those dusty old volumes?" Ren asked one afternoon, setting down a book on regional geopolitics.

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  ?Kael, eyes blazing with the fire of scientific discovery, didn't even look up. "The Golden Age, Ren. I’m studying events from over three thousand years ago, during the reign of the four Great Elven Empires."

  ?Ren frowned, genuinely surprised. "Elven? I don't really see elves as the dominant type... in the stories Elisa used to read, they seemed more like forest-loving hippies with rigid ethics, mostly keeping to themselves."

  ?Kael laughed, slamming a heavy book shut with a dry thwack.

  ?"That’s 'recent history' for elves, brother. They live up to 2,850 years. To them, what happened twelve centuries ago is like what they had for dinner last night. The current remnants chose nature to distance themselves from the ruin of their ancestors. Those old empires were expansionist, blinded by a lust for power and technologies that have since been lost to time. They wanted their long lives spent in absolute luxury, but their ignorance and corruption brought the whole house down."

  ?With every one of Kael’s explanations, Ren felt the world was much deeper than any tactical manual from Earth could ever describe. By the time winter arrived, draping the Valerius Mansion in a silent shroud of snow, the duo wasn't just studying history anymore. They began to crack the code of the Book of Magic.

  ?The Science Behind Mana

  ?Reading about the mechanics of magic made Ren’s engineer-soldier blood pump. He discovered that mana in this world wasn't just mystical "woo-woo"; it was functional biology. The body began developing the ability to accumulate mana at age six, when the heart started doubling as a storage unit. The skin acted as a sensory organ, harvesting energy from the environment, which was then channeled by proteins and the nervous system toward the brain and the solar plexus.

  ?"Magic is free, Kael," Ren whispered as the fireplace crackled, fighting off the January chill. "But if it’s everywhere, why doesn't everyone have god-like powers?"

  "Limitations of the body and lack of vision, Ren," Kael explained, snuggling into the warmth. "If you use strengthening magic on an untrained body, you'll tear your muscles apart. It's like trying to force the water of an entire dam through a thin bamboo pipe: the pipe simply bursts. Fire magic without focus burns; uncontrolled wind cuts. Most people only use magic for basic needs, like construction or agriculture. They don't have the 'receptacle' for more than that."

  It was at that moment that Ren, forgetting for an instant his "five-year-old child" facade, asked the question that would change the course of his life:

  "Kael, what if we used Physics and Chemistry to make magic more powerful? Processes like particle reactions or the natural laws of motion?"

  Kael paused, looking completely perplexed. "Ren... what the heck are 'Physics' and 'Chemistry'?"

  Ren felt a shiver run down his spine. Damn it. I've said too much. He tried to change the subject immediately, improvising a story about having seen those names in an ancient tale about the elven empires. Luck—or perhaps fate—smiled on him months later, in the spring. A shipment of ancient artifacts brought a "Legendary Elven Script" containing illustrations of structures that looked suspiciously like atoms and planetary orbits. Kael, being a genius devoid of ego, naturally assumed that Ren's "theories" were flashes of intuition derived from that ancient wisdom.

  Time seemed distorted. The seasons followed one another like pages of a thrilling thriller. Between sword training in the courtyard and long afternoons in the library, Ren and Kael became inseparable. Ren taught Kael about torque, leverage, and chemical reactions (disguised as "High Elf Theory"), while Kael instructed Ren on local politics and the rugged geography of the continent.

  At the end of that year, Ren turned six. He felt something new blossom in his chest—a strange, vibrant tingling that rose from his skin and settled in his heart. On the outside, he was still just a boy with a bowl haircut. But inside, the chassis was built, the engine tuned, and the fuel was pure high-octane science.

  The "snake" was about to start emitting smoke, and the world was not prepared for the fire.