My name is Samuel Carter—Sam to those who know me—but in my past life, I was Ryan. My uncle betrayed me and my family, slaughtering us without remorse. But fate granted me a second chance, and this time, I won't fail. My sister, Sophia, and my parents are still the same, but in this new world, I'm determined to protect them.

This world is different, though. It's brimming with magic, something I never encountered in my previous life. The moment I learned about it, curiosity gnawed at me, and I begged my father to teach me. But he refused, his stern eyes reflecting a fear I didn't understand at the time.

I was only five years old.

[Carter Household]

The Carter estate in this world was an imposing structure of stone and wood, surrounded by sprawling gardens and forests that seemed to stretch on forever. It was both beautiful and daunting, a place that spoke of power and history. Inside, the halls were adorned with tapestries depicting battles and ancient heroes, their exploits woven into the very fabric of the walls. Yet despite the grandeur, there was an undercurrent of unease that I couldn't shake.

My father, a nobleman in this world, was a respected figure, known for his wisdom and strength. But when it came to magic, there was a wariness in his eyes, a hesitation that I couldn't understand. Whenever I asked him about it, he would change the subject or gently refuse, saying that magic was dangerous, something not to be trifled with.

But I wasn't just a child. I was Ryan—a soul with memories of a life filled with loss and betrayal. I couldn't afford to be sheltered or ignorant. I needed to understand this world and its dangers if I was going to protect my family.

My sister, Emily, tried to help. She was only a year older than me, but in this life, she was as bright and cheerful as Emily had been. Her laughter filled the halls, and her presence was a constant source of joy. She was naturally gifted with magic, something she took to with ease and grace. Despite our father's reservations, she would often show me the basics of spellcasting when we were alone, giggling as she made small flames dance on her fingertips or caused flowers to bloom with a flick of her wrist.

But something about the rigid structure of spells didn't sit right with me. It felt too limiting, too controlled. Magic, I realized, should be more than just words and gestures. It should be a force of will, something that flowed from within, not something bound by rules and incantations.

[The Hidden Library]

Determined to forge my own path, I began searching for answers. Rumors among the servants led me to a secret, abandoned library beneath our house—a place everyone avoided, believing it held dark magic. My mother even tried to scare me with tales of a ghost lurking within, a story meant to keep curious children away. But I wasn't easily deterred. After all, I wasn't just a child; I was a reincarnated soul with unfinished business.

One night, under the cover of darkness, I snuck into the library. The entrance was hidden behind a tapestry of a long-forgotten battle, and the air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. As I descended the narrow, winding staircase, the temperature dropped, the cold seeping into my bones. The library itself was vast, its shelves towering high, filled with books that hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs clung to every surface, and the silence was almost oppressive.

As I scanned the shelves, my eyes were drawn to a single book, glowing faintly amidst the decay. It was an ancient tome, its cover made of some dark, unknown material that seemed to pulse with energy, calling to me. The title was etched in a language I didn't recognize, but I could feel its power, a raw and untamed force waiting to be unleashed.

I was in the center of the library, surrounded by a dim, red glow—the same eerie light I'd seen after my death in the previous world. My heart pounded as I reached for the book, but before my fingers could touch it, a voice boomed from behind me.

"Samuel!"

I froze. It was my father.

He stormed in, fury etched into every line of his face. For what felt like an eternity, he yelled at me, his voice echoing off the stone walls. He spoke of the dangers of dark magic, of how it could corrupt even the strongest of minds. I hung my head, pretending to be chastised, but inwardly, I was calm. I had already slipped the book into my tunic when he wasn't looking.

Later that night, alone in my room, I finally opened the book. As soon as I did, a blinding light filled the space, so intense that I had to shield my eyes. When the light faded, the room felt charged with energy, and the first words on the page caught my breath.

This book is for the chosen few. Only they can harness the power within.

I didn't sleep that night. I devoured the book's contents, page after page, until dawn broke. But to my frustration, there wasn't a single spell written within. Instead, the book detailed the true nature of magic—how it wasn't just about chants or rituals, but about imagination. The more vivid your mind, the more powerful your magic. But to wield such power, you needed an immense reservoir of mana, something rare in this world.

Mana—the essence of magic, the life force within every mage. The book explained that most people relied on spells because they lacked the raw mana to shape magic with their minds alone. But I understood now. The key wasn't just intelligence, but stamina—endurance to sustain the mental and physical strain of channeling pure magic.

It amazed me how this world, with all its magical history, had failed to grasp something so fundamental. But I wasn't like them. I wasn't bound by the same limitations.

[The Training Begins]

Over the next five years, I trained relentlessly. While other children played, I honed my body and mind, pushing myself to the brink. I would wake up before dawn, running through the forest surrounding our estate, building my stamina, my lungs burning with the effort. I practiced the mental exercises detailed in the book, meditating for hours, focusing on controlling my mana without the use of spells. It was exhausting, both physically and mentally, but I knew it was necessary.

The more I trained, the more I realized how different I was from others in this world. While most people struggled to control even a small amount of mana, I could feel it coursing through me like a river, vast and deep. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, this power that I had been granted. But I couldn't allow myself to be consumed by it. I had to master it, to control it, for the sake of my family.

My father and sister noticed the changes in me, though they didn't understand them. My father, ever cautious, warned me against pushing myself too hard. He didn't know what I was truly capable of, and I had no intention of revealing it to him—not yet.

On my tenth birthday, the day finally came for me to officially begin my magic training. But before that, I had to do something.

The Mana Meter, a crystal stone, was brought before me. It was a simple test, but one that would reveal my potential to the world. I had kept my strength hidden, even from Sophia. We sparred often, but I always held back. No one knew what I was truly capable of.

As I touched the Mana Meter, the crystal flared to life, emitting a blinding light. The brilliance was so intense that the onlookers shielded their eyes, gasping in shock. When the light finally dimmed, I glanced at the stone.

1,200.

The number burned in my mind. It was less than Sophia's.

Disappointment settled in the pit of my stomach, but I quickly suppressed it. The others around me, however, couldn't hide their reactions—whispers, surprised glances, the subtle shift in how they looked at me.

But they didn't know the truth. None of them did.

Because while they saw the number on the Mana Meter as a measure of my power, I knew better. Magic wasn't just about raw numbers. It was about how you used it, how you shaped it with your mind. And in that, I was unmatched.

The world would soon learn that Samuel Carter was no ordinary mage.

The game had just begun.