That night, once Yuki believed I had fallen asleep and quietly left the room, I opened my eyes.
Silence settled over the chamber.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, stretching the shadows along the walls.
Perfect.
Slowly, I pushed myself upright and raised my small hand. My body was still weak, unrefined—but my mind was not.
I closed my eyes and reached inward.
Mana.
At first, there was only darkness.
Then—
I felt it.
A cold, heavy current coiling deep within me. Dense. Quiet. Patient.
Dark magic.
It did not burn like fire. It did not flow like water.
It lingered… as if aware.
A faint shiver ran down my spine.
Rare.
Feared.
Misunderstood.
A slow smile formed on my lips.
Books on dark magic were scarce in this world. Practitioners even scarcer. Most feared it. Some outlawed it.
Good.
The less understood something is, the more dangerous it becomes.
Carefully, I extended a thin thread of that power toward the shadow beneath my crib.
The darkness trembled.
For a brief second—
It moved.
A thin strand rose from the floor like smoke solidifying into form before collapsing back into nothingness.
Too unstable.
Too weak.
But it worked.
My breathing grew slightly uneven. My fingertips felt cold.
So there are side effects…
Interesting.
I steadied myself and reached inward again—this time searching for something warmer.
Heat answered immediately.
Sharp. Responsive. Obedient.
Fire magic.
Unlike the heavy silence of darkness, fire reacted eagerly, as if waiting for command.
A small spark flickered above my palm before vanishing just as quickly.
Fire would be simple to train.
Common enough to avoid suspicion. Respectable enough for a noble heir. Powerful enough to survive the academy.
I would let the world see fire.
Slightly above average. Controlled. Reliable.
Not exceptional.
Never exceptional.
The top students are watched.
And Seila Academy watches closely.
But dark magic…
That would be my true weapon.
Not for direct confrontation.
For control.
For preparation.
For inevitability.
A trap laid in shadow.
I imagined it clearly—
An enemy stepping forward.
The ground beneath them darkens.
Chains formed from condensed shadow erupt silently, binding their limbs, restricting movement, tightening with every attempt to resist.
Not flashy.
Not loud.
But decisive.
Battlefield control.
And if refined further…
Perhaps subtle distortions. A slight suppression of mana. A faint unease creeping into the opponent's mind. Just enough to tilt the fight.
Victory does not require overwhelming strength.
Only advantage.
My vision blurred slightly.
The cold in my fingers deepened.
So this power demands a price.
That makes it even more valuable.
As I withdrew the mana, the shadows returned to normal.
But for a fleeting moment—
I felt something.
Not in the room.
Not in the manor.
Far away.
As if something ancient had stirred.
Watching.
No.
It was probably my imagination.
I am still too weak to attract attention.
And I intend to keep it that way.
Fire for the world.
Darkness for myself.
Let them measure me by flames.
Let them assume they understand my limits.
When the time comes—
They will learn they never saw the whole of me.