I Became a Magical Genius After Regression

Chapter 4

‘How are those guys still alive?’

Crack, crack.

Randel stood up from his chair, loosening his shoulders as he thought.

There is one common trait among mercenaries who survive for a long time.

It’s not standing out.

Living recklessly like those three, losing their minds and doing whatever they please, is a sure way to die young.

Isn’t it obvious?

Mercenaries are not sword masters. If someone poisons their food or stabs them while they sleep, they will die just like that.

So, those guys are usually just stylish fools.

Even Randel, who was still an ordinary country boy and not yet a wizard, could scoff at them.

‘This should do.’

Randel looked around and found a long broom standing nearby.

Creak.

He leaned it against the table and stepped on the handle, breaking the end into a sharp point.

With this, a wooden spear was completed.

It was really crude, but it didn’t matter.

‘It’s not like I’m facing anything great.’

Randel held it and gently closed his eyes.

With his vision blocked, the smell disappeared.

Next, the sense of touch vanished.

Finally, the sounds disappeared.

The shouts and screams coming from the inn were no longer audible.

In an instant, he entered a state of extreme concentration.

What he saw next was his own inner self. The world of imagery that every wizard possesses…

Randel’s world of imagery was pitch dark.

And within it was…

‘My mana… It’s been a while.’

Porrr.

A green light orb floated up like a bubble in the pitch-black field of vision.

That was the beginning.

The moment Randel became conscious, a large number of bubbles began to boil up from the bottom.

‘Still beautiful.’

Anyone, no, any living being, has this mana within their body.

But the amount is so minuscule that most people never feel it until they die.

Except for those few with ‘true talent.’

Those who sense mana become wizards, knights, and spiritists.

‘Good, now move.’

Randel conveyed his will to the mana.

Originally, moving mana directly without any formula was an extremely difficult task.

Mana wouldn’t budge with just any will. It was something only possible after handling mana for at least several decades.

And 13-year-old Randel,

had handled it for decades.

The will honed through thousands, tens of thousands of spells imposed a force on the mana.

Stop.

Then, the green light orbs that had been drifting like bubbles in the mental world all stopped at once.

And they all rushed towards one place.

Because Randel wished for it.

Rumble!

“Hoo…”

Eventually, Randel opened his eyes.

The first thing he felt was the powerful force surging from his lower body.

Crunch.

It felt as if the invisible muscle strength had materialized, densely condensed in his legs and waist.

It was physical enhancement using mana.

‘This should be… fine.’

Swoosh.

Then Randel took his stance.

The lower body slightly back, the left hand stretched forward, the right hand holding the wooden spear and pulling it back.

Although not a knight, he had thrown spears quite a bit.

A slow-casting wizard had to fight like this to survive.

“Huh? Huh? That guy!”

At that moment, one of the mercenaries who had been teasing the girl inside the inn noticed him.

And then he was startled.

It was natural. Who wouldn’t be surprised when someone is about to throw a spear at them?

“What? Stop that b*stard!”

A mercenary who belatedly grasped the situation drew his shortsword from his waist and tried to run.

But it was a very late move.

Thwack!

Whoosh!

Randell stepped forward and bent his waist forward at the same time. Simultaneously, the wooden spear shot out.

At best, it was like throwing a broomstick.

But the wooden spear combined with a body strengthened by mana was a weapon in itself. It was not something a mere low-level mercenary could react to.

The wooden spear that left Randell’s hand flew like a comb and aimed at the innermost mercenary.

The wooden spear lodged in the shoulder of the mercenary who was grabbing the inn girl’s hair and climbing the stairs.

Thud!

No, it wasn’t just lodged.

The wooden spear pierced through the flesh and got stuck in the wall.

“aaargh!”

A beat later, a scream echoed through the inn.

But the fellow mercenaries could do nothing.

“Gulp.”

The mercenaries’ throats moved as they swallowed their saliva.

They knew well.

Throwing a wooden spear and piercing a person?

And that too from a mere 10 meters away?

Then there was only one answer.

One of the mercenaries muttered that answer.

“Wh-why is a mana user in this backwater place…?”

One who is blessed by the world, by the universe.

One who understands and can use mana.

And…

One whom they could never defeat, even if they came back to life.

Step, step.

Randell entered the now quiet inn.

Then he approached the mercenary with a spear stuck in his shoulder.

An emotionless gaze looked down at the mercenary.

“Ugh…”

The mercenary, overwhelmed by Randell’s eyes, couldn’t even scream and trembled.

Randell, indifferent, placed one foot on the wall and used his weight to pull the wooden spear out of the wall.

Crack…

The handle of the wooden spear, unable to withstand the oversupplied mana, crumbled.

“Ugh, ugh…”

The mercenary desperately suppressed the groans that kept trying to escape at the terrifying sight.

It was a pitiful sight, but Randell didn’t even pretend to see him.

Instead, he helped the inn girl who had fallen, dusting off her body.

The girl, with frightened eyes, stammered.

“R-Randell…”

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re okay.”

“Oh, oh! I’m fine…”

Randell nodded and then looked back.

Then he spoke softly.

“You’re still standing.”

Thud.

At those words, the mercenaries fell to their knees.

“I’m back.”

Randell opened the door and entered the house.

It was his mother who greeted him warmly.

She put down her knitting, which she had been engrossed in, and asked,

“Randell, you’re a bit late. Did you have dinner?”

“Yes, I ate at the inn.”

“The inn?”

“I helped out a bit. Oh, I also got this.”

Randell handed his mother a small pouch.

The innkeeper, who had barely survived, had forced it into his hand out of gratitude.

Judging by the jingling sound, it seemed to be money, but he hadn’t checked the amount. In this small village, everyone’s circumstances were obvious.

“Oh my, it’s 50 cooper. That’s quite a lot for a day’s help. Can I really use this?”

“Of course. It’s not much.”

“Thank you. I’ll make a hearty dinner tomorrow.”

“Hehe, okay.”

This peaceful conversation felt so unfamiliar to Randell that he could only smile awkwardly.

And just as he was about to step onto the stairs leading to his room upstairs.

Thud!

[Qualification 2│Mercenary Processing]

∥Mercenary 1/3

∥□□ Access Rights

∥Magic Arrow -10 seconds

∥Small Amount → 50 cooper (Acquired)

“…Huh?”

Randell stopped and looked to one side of his vision.

There were still unfamiliar characters floating there.

And the last sentence among them was blinking intensely.

As if it was begging for attention.

* * *

“Whew…”

Randell, sitting on the edge of the bed, massaged his trembling legs.

It wasn’t just his legs. His lower body, used for spear throwing, his right arm, his shoulder, no, his entire body was trembling.

It was the aftereffect of almost completely draining his mana.

‘It could have been dangerous.’

There were two more guys in the inn besides the one with the shoulder pierced by the spear.

If those guys had attacked Randell, who had exhausted his mana, he would have been in quite a difficult situation.

‘Because I wouldn’t have been able to control my strength…’

The ‘difficulty’ Randell mentioned was nothing else.

If his physical abilities dropped due to the inability to use mana… he wouldn’t be able to go easy on the mercenaries.

Because he wouldn’t be able to control his strength.

Then Randell would have to fight with all his might, and nine times out of ten, those mercenaries would die.

‘If that had happened, the village would have been in chaos, right?’

It was fortunate that the mercenaries recognized the mana and surrendered quietly.

‘The real problem is not this…’

Randell, who was massaging his stiff thighs, lay down on the bed.

Although his whole body was exhausted from using up all his mana, there was something more important right now.

It was the letters floating right in front of his eyes.

“This is… ha, really.”

Randell muttered once again in disbelief and lightly waved his hand towards the letters.

Then the letters became blurry like snow melting in spring and soon disappeared.

The method to make them reappear was simple.

You just had to think you wanted to see them and wave your hand.

It was a method he discovered after several attempts on his way home.

Swoosh.

Randell waved his hand to bring the letters back.

And then he read the last part of them.

“Small amount, 50 cooper, acquired…”

∥Small amount → 50 cooper (acquired)

Originally, the letters only said ‘small amount’.

But those letters had changed.

There was no doubt about when it changed.

It was the moment when Randel handed the pouch to his mother, and she checked the amount inside.

Actually, there was no problem up to this point. Couldn’t the letters just change depending on the situation?

The problem is this.

‘If the small amount was talking about compensation, doesn’t that mean the two above could also be compensation?’

Randel glanced to the side of his vision again.

∥□□ Access Rights

∥Magic Arrow -10 seconds

There were two left, but he couldn’t figure out what the one above meant.

‘Boxes? Are the letters broken?’

He didn’t know what access rights meant either.

But he roughly understood the second sentence.

The representative attack magic of the 1st circle, Magic Arrow.

And the ‘-10 seconds’ attached to it.

Doesn’t this mean casting?

‘Can you reduce the casting time of magic?’

Randel shook his head at the thought.

‘No matter how much I think about it, that’s impossible.’

Magic.

Magic was like a puzzle.

Mana was the base, and formulas were numerous puzzle pieces.

And when those pieces were fitted into the base in the right shape, magic would activate.

Low-level magic was a 10-piece puzzle.

High-level magic was a 1,000-piece puzzle.

Naturally, the higher the level of magic, the exponentially more and more complex the formulas became.

‘And the process of fitting those pieces together is what wizards call casting.’

No one could help with that process.

Casting was essentially formula calculation.

Mana concentration, attributes, target setting, distance, number of projectiles, range, intensity…

This was about the extent for 1st circle magic, but for high circle magic, the calculations increased even more.

But who would help with this, and how?

So, there is only one way to reduce the casting speed.

‘Consistent repetitive training.’

Practice until it decreases.

And in Randel’s case, the result was.

’27 years of trying everything, but it was useless.’

No matter how insanely hard he tried, the casting time didn’t decrease by even a second after a certain point.

So, Randel made a decision just yesterday.

Having the chance to live his life again, he decided not to waste it on things that wouldn’t work out this time.

He would learn magic just enough to earn a semi-noble title, just enough to graduate from the academy.

‘But…’

Randel’s heart was shaking like a stormy sea.

There was only one reason.

‘The Box of God.’

An artifact that sent people back to the past.

A unique tool that never existed before and would never exist again.

Such an artifact was constantly whispering to him through the letters.

It’s possible.

I don’t lie.

You can really reduce the casting time.

Randel’s gaze turned to one side.

[Qualification 2│Mercenary Handling]

∥Mercenary 1/3

“……”

The letters still stuck in place.

He didn’t know exactly what ‘handling’ meant.

Since 1 had gone up, did it mean he had to see blood, like when he pierced the shoulder with a spear earlier?

Or was it enough to just beat them up moderately?

But the important thing was, once this number was filled…

Randel’s eyes gleamed dangerously.

* * *

The next morning.

“What the! Why are these guys like this?”

The voice of a vigilante echoed through the village.

Two mercenaries who had been locked in the warehouse were sprawled out in a half-dead state.