Two months had passed since Kieran was reincarnated into the novel he had once read. The repetitive, monotonous routine was starting to wear on him. Eat, read, sleep, bathe, daydream—those were the only things he ever did. Now, however, Kieran had begun training his body. According to a book he read, it was recommended to start learning about magical energy at the age of ten, as the body would then be ready to adapt to the foreign presence of magic.

  However, in the novel, Kai Morta had only started learning about magic when he was twenty. That was due to the heavy discrimination the nobility imposed on commoners at the time. It all started when the followers of the Nameless God began their rampage, destroying Kai’s village. He survived only because he had been out in the forest searching for fruit. But when he returned, nothing remained—just rubble and corpses. Kai wept at the sight of his ruined home. As he wandered through the wreckage, he accidentally discovered a magic book beneath the debris. He believed it had belonged to the village chief. From that moment, Kai started gathering anything he could find that might help him survive. And so, his journey began.

  Through that journey, Kai began learning magic to protect his own life. After studying various books, he came to understand one thing: the most important factor in mastering magic energy was the body itself. The body, as a vessel to contain mana—the outer energy—had to be forged to hold immense power. If the vessel cracked, it meant failure.

  That was what Kieran remembered from the story. It didn’t matter at what age one started studying magic energy—if the vessel was ready, the output would be powerful. That’s why Kieran began harsh physical training—just like a demon’s regimen. He would mold his body until it could endure vast amounts of mana.

  Those who could use mana were called "Diverse"—beings who were fundamentally different from ordinary humans.

  ---

  **One year later…**

  Just like that, a year had passed. Kieran's body no longer resembled that of a child his age. Thanks to the hellish training, he had grown strong and healthy. Now, he rested in the mansion’s garden, enjoying a few sweet snacks and a glass of milk. He still spent a lot of time reading—whether history, politics, magic, or even children’s stories.

  Having finished his break, Kieran decided it was time to try sensing magic energy, just as he had read in the books. He sat under a large, shady tree—his chosen spot for his first real attempt.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Closing his eyes, he focused intently, trying to feel the mana flowing through the world. Time passed, but he felt nothing. Refusing to give up, he emptied his mind further, sharpening his focus—and finally, something shifted. In the darkness, he saw colorful threads. The deeper his concentration, the clearer they became. The brilliant colors represented the elemental forces of the world. Now, Kieran truly understood what mana was.

  The once-dark space was now glowing with radiant light. Around his meditating body, those colorful threads began to swirl. Anyone who saw it might have been shocked—this process was usually only achievable by ten-year-olds, yet he was doing it at six.

  Within his subconscious, Kieran began guiding mana into his body. It was difficult—like a wall was blocking the flow. But he didn’t give up. He gradually adjusted his body’s rhythm to align with the mana. After several attempts, it finally happened—mana began to seep into him. Though only a trickle, he felt a profound change. His body felt lighter, and all the fatigue from his efforts vanished. A cool, soothing sensation filled him as his body absorbed mana.

  So this was what made the Diverse different from everyone else. No wonder people desired that power so badly.

  Kieran opened his eyes. The sky had turned orange—he had been meditating for hours. His body was covered in filth, as the mana had purged toxins and bacteria from his system. It was proof—he was now a true Diverse.

  His body felt reborn. He took a deep breath and exhaled—the air felt different, now infused with mana. Apparently, mana had always been present in the air, mixed with oxygen. Normal people could only inhale oxygen, but a Diverse inhaled both.

  As he tried to stand, a sharp pain shot through his leg—he had been sitting too long and now had a cramp. Hobbling toward the mansion, Kieran was eager to bathe and eat. For some reason, he felt incredibly hungry after meditating.

  ---

  Days passed peacefully. Kieran’s routine remained mostly the same, now with the addition of daily meditation to increase his mana capacity. Why hadn’t he started practicing magic? Because despite the mana he now held, he didn’t know how to convert it into spells. He recalled what Erick had once said: learning magic required a teacher. But in Kieran’s situation, who would teach him?

  And he still didn’t understand how to access his Death power. How was it supposed to be released? He clutched his head, frustrated.

  *“The power of death... dangerous to all living things.”*

  That’s what Erick had said.

  Kieran sat up in bed. Right—Erick had warned him of how lethal Death magic was. But now, he was alone. No humans to experiment on. Still, living beings weren’t limited to humans. There were also plants and animals. Finally, a lead.

  He dashed outside the mansion, hoping to find a small creature for his first experiment. But nothing—not even a mosquito or grasshopper. The mansion was far too clean for pests.

  With no animals in sight, Kieran turned to plants. The garden was full of them. But before beginning, he needed to understand what death meant. All living things eventually die. So maybe his Death magic could end life instantly—that would explain why the nobles had wanted him dead.

  If that was true, then he needed to test how this power worked.

  He walked to the garden where flowers were in full bloom. Staring at them, he raised his hand.

  “Die,” Kieran said.

  Nothing happened. The flowers remained vibrant.

  Why didn’t it work? He pondered. Death magic wasn’t so easy to control, it seemed.

  He relaxed his mind and body, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Alright. Time for another attempt.

  He repeated the process over and over, but the result was the same. The flowers didn’t wilt. After a while, exhausted, Kieran collapsed onto the grass.

  “Turns out practice isn’t as easy as theory,” he muttered.

  Clouds filled the sky, keeping the garden cool. Kieran lay there, glancing to the side—and noticed some tiny sprouts growing nearby. He reached out and touched them, and without thinking, whispered:

  “Die.”

  ---