Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

Before the class began, I noticed that everyone except me was holding a small, round orb the size of a child’s fist in their hands.

I didn’t know what it was. All I had was a thick book I had purchased for the basics of magical studies, a notebook, and some writing instruments.

As the class began, while I was sitting awkwardly, an orb was tossed from afar and landed in my hand. Only then did I feel relieved.

The magic professor, Angela Sting, was a woman in her early thirties with a soft, gentle voice. As she spoke, every word and sentence came out slow and smooth, almost like a song rather than a lecture.

Her long hair reached down to her waist, and its ends were perfectly straight, as if measured by a ruler. Her hair and eyes were both a deep blue, with a silvery sheen. She explained the difference between mana and aura in the following way:

Mana is a distant, far-reaching force drawn from nature, while aura is a closer, more personal power that is forged by humans. Though the outer forms of both may appear similar, their essences are not the same.

“…So, mana is like the gentle breeze, the fresh grass and flowers, the bubbling spring water, the light and shadow between the flickering flames. It’s that soft gray you receive from the world around you. Everyone, close your eyes and think of a fresh meadow.”

Professor Angela Sting spread her arms wide, her movements like a dance, her gestures graceful and mesmerizing.

“Imagine the clover in the vast meadow, the distant sound of birds singing, the wind brushing against your cheeks, and the sunlight pouring down onto your body. Let go of yourself, and instead, reach for the distant energy coming from outside… Grab a strand of it. Take a deep breath… and when you exhale, feel that energy entering your chest, your body. Breathe deeply again… Slowly, in time with your heartbeat…”

However, I couldn’t feel any mana.

The act of taking deep breaths and exhaling felt almost the same as my own practice of energy control. I couldn’t understand how one could accumulate inner power in the middle dantian (*the energy center near the heart) rather than the lower dantian.

To me, the lower dantian was a reservoir, the middle dantian a waterway, and the upper dantian a valley. That’s how I had learned and used it, so no matter how much I tried to push my energy into the middle, it just flowed away like water down a stream.

I squinted and looked around. At a proper distance from one another, golden rings began to spin clockwise around the chests and feet of the mages.

This was the first time I had seen a mage’s circle, and I felt a sense of excitement. Some of the circles shone bright gold, while others were hazy and hot, like steam rising from a hot spring.

Among them, one circle glowed with a reddish-gold hue.

In my past life, I remembered hearing about red gold (*the rarest form of gold) in a legend.

In a deep valley, beyond the sulfurous mountains, there was a tale of a white macaque (*a type of primate) who spent a thousand days dyeing water with red petals, a hundred days feeding on sacrificial blood, and ten days rinsing itself in scalding hot spring water. The macaque would eventually possess gold that was neither red nor bright but simply a dull, glowing gold that it would cherish as if it were its own child.

Such legends were nothing more than fantastic tales about dragons living on mountains, serpents falling from the sky, or giant creatures emerging from rivers, impossible to believe.

Yet, seeing this strange light in my hand—neither something I could grasp nor release—I thought back to the tale of the macaque and the red gold it held. As the golden circle spun, layer by layer, from one to two, three, and four layers, it spread even to my feet. My toes instinctively curled, drawn to the energy.

“Now, we’re going to swallow the breath we exhaled. The circle you formed around yourself will enter through your mouth and nose, reach your chest, and then be sent away. Imagine it as the wind that you no longer need, traveling far away. If it’s hard to imagine because it’s invisible, think of a small piece of cloud.”

The children followed the instructions, inhaling deeply and exhaling long breaths. The professor, with her eyes half-closed, continued speaking.

“Don’t look up at the sky, look down at the ground… You’ll begin to see the shadow of the cloud getting farther away. A little more, just a little more… When it’s no longer within reach, slowly open your eyes. Take your time… slowly…”

At that moment, I made eye contact with Professor Angela. She already knew I wasn’t focused. From the brief flicker of her eyes, I could sense a slight disappointment and reproach, and only then did I snap back to attention.

“It seems it wasn’t easy for the swordsmanship students,” she said. “Most knights, unlike mages, don’t have a circle inside their bodies. Especially in the Sierran Empire swordsmanship, aura is just armor and weapons, so all the mana they draw in is used like a bandage, layered on top of themselves.”

With a gesture from the professor, a translucent humanoid figure appeared above the podium. I couldn’t tell what kind of magic had created it, but I could hear some students gasping in awe, realizing it was something extraordinary.

The figure was blue in color, and a green light, drawn from the outside, gathered in layers around its hands, chest, knees, and other key areas.

“This is what we call aura,” the professor explained. “Or it can be used like this.”

The green light flowed into the figure’s soles, entering its bones and traveling up its muscles. The figure then mimicked jumping high and running forward before halting.

“Body-enhancing magic can only be used by third-class mages. It works by drawing the mana out like thin threads and allowing it to permeate each part of the body. Knights have more freedom with aura control because they always use it on their own bodies, which they understand and are familiar with, but if they make a mistake, they could suffer serious injury. So, it’s important to be cautious.”

I felt puzzled for a moment. I didn’t fully understand the difference between the mana used by mages, the aura used by knights, and the internal power I controlled. They all had their own forms of light, but from what I was seeing, each circle had its own unique color, and no one had the same circle as another.

The mana I had gathered in my middle dantian flowed like a stream, circling around several times before dissipating faintly. But my internal power was solid and heavy, sinking down. To make it move through my body, I had to use breathing exercises, guiding it along a set path before it would gather strength and return, much like a well-behaved dog returning home.

I wanted to ask a question, but I hesitated. Surrounded by students who eagerly asked passionate questions with shining eyes, I felt reluctant to speak up.

After all, what I really wanted wasn’t just to learn magic, but to find a wise and delicate mage friend, someone as skilled as the members of the Zhuge family. If I was truly curious, I could ask about aura and mana in the upcoming class.

Professor Angela Sting, who had been answering the many questions from the young mages with patience, took out a round orb, just like the ones the students had.

I also looked at the object I was holding.

The transparent crystal orb had several thin metal wires inside, twisted into strange shapes, with certain points of contact disconnected and drifting apart. On the north, south, east, and west of the orb, there were red dots marked as one, two, three, and four. If I brought it to the Central Plains, it seemed like it would be considered a mystical object, revered by some.

“Place your right thumb on one, your right middle finger on three. Hold the orb gently with your right hand… If the orb feels too heavy, you can place your right hand on the table. Hold it tenderly, as if cradling it… Now, place the palm of your left hand on two. The tip of your left index finger should touch four.”

I followed the professor’s instructions and cradled the orb.

“Now, open the circle once again. Call the cloud you sent away earlier into your right hand, shape it thinly… and send it through the orb to the left. It should move like a fine thread… slowly, following the path from one to two, from two to three, and from three to four… There’s no rush. Slowly…”

I looked at the crystal orb, just the right size for my small hands, and glanced around. One by one, I could hear soft exhalations from the others. What exactly are we doing? Curiosity made me turn my gaze back to the professor’s lips.

“Your left index finger will start to tingle. You might begin to smell the fragrance of flowers. Listen to the whisper spreading from within your body. This is the *Purification* spell. Take a closer look at the path and flow of mana. You can close your eyes or keep them open. If you can hear it, listen. With repetition, it will become familiar, and when it becomes familiar, it will feel natural…”

My curiosity grew.

Everyone seemed to have serene expressions, so I thought maybe it was okay. I remembered what the professor had said earlier. I lifted my internal energy from the lower dantian and performed a basic form of breath control called *Sojucheon* (a simplified breathing technique, where the energy circulates in the upper body without reaching the spine).

The path was different from the one that reached the Governing Vessel, instead leading directly to the middle dantian. It made me think that the water flowing through a river and the water drawn from a reservoir both follow the same path, though they may differ.

This was the first time I had tried to slice my internal energy so thinly. The energy from my right hand passed through the crystal orb. Slowly, it moved from one to two, then from two to…

Crack. Something broke.

I gasped, and a sharp, metallic taste surged up into my throat. I felt nauseous. Unable to hold it in, I threw the orb away.

A crashing sound echoed from under the desk as the professor quickly cast a spell to contain the situation. I vomited, and my insides churned. Everything I had eaten for lunch rushed up and out of my throat. I spat it all out.

It felt as if my stomach, my intestines, my whole body was being squeezed and wrung out. The sound of the desk being pushed away in haste was loud.

“—Recovery…!”

A cool, soothing energy enveloped my dizzy head. The green energy gently spread into my trembling limbs and heart.

I gagged again, my shoulders shaking as I calmed myself. The professor, who had conjured a cup of water from the air, handed it to me. With wide eyes, I took it and drank.

Professor Angela Sting sighed, but her voice was cold and firm as she reprimanded me.

“Swordsmanship and magic are clearly different. If you push unrefined mana into your body like that, it can cause disruptions in your vital energy… You may be able to receive immediate treatment in front of me or another professor, but please never attempt incomplete magic on your own when you’re alone. I’ll end today’s class here, and it would be best for you to go to the infirmary for treatment right away.”

The lingering, sour sensation in my mouth made me gag again, and I could only nod weakly. Though not enough to cause lasting damage, it was a shock that was intense enough for my young body to handle. At the peak of the energy, I had clearly seen it—the crimson gold mana that had tangled the path of the crystal orb.

I looked down at the broken orb for a moment before leaving the room. I knew its owner. Edwin Kiadris. He was the younger brother of the youngest Grand Sword Master, Wesley Kiadris.