Two more years passed.

  I won’t bother recounting how tedious my first eight years in this world were. The monotony is suffocating, and there’s no point in describing it. I’ll just say that, since that encounter with the pink-haired girl, Isolde and I decided to stop going out. It was a resolution made in the intimacy of the night, with the relentless logic of those who understand that, in an unknown world, preparation always precedes exposure.

  Mother didn’t agree, of course. She insisted that children should explore, play, and socialize. But Isolde’s fake tears were a more effective weapon than any rational argument. In the end, after a small tantrum from my sister, our mother gave in… though reluctantly.

  Time, then, was spent to our advantage.

  Our training intensified after a year. In these last two years, we’ve managed to master 120 techniques from The Scriptures of Paradox. An impressive number, yes, but the cost was proportional. Hours of sleep sacrificed, extreme exhaustion, and more than once, the temptation to give up. But in the end, the results were satisfying.

  If I had to evaluate our physical attributes… our strength increased enough to carry two sacks full of corn without difficulty. As for speed… well, we can run 50 meters in 10 seconds. Mediocre, yes, but every step forward is a step toward something better.

  Our overall ability improved by 30% compared to the average child in the kingdom, though that comparison is hardly relevant. To strengthen our bodies, we resorted to unconventional methods: doing push-ups with one of us on top of the other and running for four hours straight inside the room. An absurd training regimen for anyone watching, but functional in its own way.

  And, coincidentally, we had just finished another session.

  “Ah… ah… I’m… too tired…” Isolde panted, using magic to condense water from the air and drink it.

  “Issy… I don’t think… using mana to… create water… is the best way to… hydrate…”

  Every word cost me air. My body demanded oxygen with the urgency of someone drowning.

  Sticky sweat covered my skin, though the winter cold seeping through the window compensated for the discomfort. It was snowing. In my past life, winter was my enemy; a merciless adversary that forced me to take refuge under layers of blankets, far from the snow and icy air.

  Now, not anymore.

  And I like that.

  “You trained for too long, huh? Here, my little ones.”

  Mother entered the room and handed us each a glass of water, with that tender, worried expression she’s been showing more often lately. Probably because she wanted us to go out more. I couldn’t blame her. However, today would be different.

  Because today is the “Vigil of the Fallen.”

  A celebration that happens only once every ten years. My first time experiencing it.

  This day honors the knights who died in the war of independence between the continents of Veloria and Aeloria. A war that defined the identity of this kingdom.

  Veloria, the place where I was born, had been under Aeloria’s rule for generations. However, differences in beliefs, politics, and culture fueled the spark of conflict. Eventually, rebellion broke out, and after countless battles and human losses, Veloria was liberated. Now, every decade, that sacrifice is commemorated with a festival that remembers both the blood spilled and the freedom gained.

  However, there’s something curious about all this.

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  According to The Scriptures of Paradox, both Veloria and Aeloria worship the same god: Paradox.

  That simple fact left Isolde and me perplexed.

  For years, these two continents fought, massacred each other, despised each other… all while worshiping the same deity. An uncomfortable discovery. Were their conflicts really about independence, or was it just a war between factions that believed they had divine favor?

  For now, we prefer to keep it a secret.

  I don’t want to imagine what the religion would do if they knew we’ve been reading what, apparently, was written by their own god.

  How unsettling.

  And how ironic.

  Mother handed us each a glass of water and then left. She’s been alone, putting up the Christmas decorations. We offered to help, but she rejected the idea with a forced smile. We insisted, and her response was even more resolute: she locked us in our room.

  Curious. She’s vehemently opposed to the idea of us staying home all the time, but when it comes to preparations, she prefers to do it alone. Hypocritical? Maybe that’s not the exact word, but it’s the first that comes to mind.

  I got up from the floor and helped Isolde do the same. We finished the water and returned the empty glasses to Mother.

  “Go take a bath. We’ll have to leave soon. Dad will be waiting for us at the festival,” she said, smiling as she walked away with the glasses toward the sink.

  A bath, huh?

  From what I remember, in my past life, history books mentioned that during the Victorian era, people didn’t have the habit of bathing frequently. They only did it on special occasions, as if water were a sacred resource reserved for key moments. This world is different. Here, bathing is a daily routine, and if there’s an important event, you take another bath before going out.

  “Alright…” I replied, still recovering from the training. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

  Isolde had already grabbed her towel before I could finish the sentence.

  “Well, you go first.”

  “What? Aren’t we going to bathe together?”

  Her confusion was genuine. Apparently, she still hadn’t realized that we’re no longer little kids. Bathing together now would be… awkward.

  “Don’t you think we’re too old for that?”

  I sat on the bed, waiting for her to leave. Her reaction was immediate: she puffed out her cheeks in a childish pout.

  “Hmm… fine.”

  I smiled as I watched her walk away, annoyed. That habit of hers—pouting and throwing tantrums—might become a problem in the future. Not everyone will give in to her whims.

  With the room to myself, I picked up the Book of Paradox. I still hadn’t studied anything about healing magic. Not because I wasn’t interested, but because the sheer complexity of it felt overwhelming. There were too many branches, too much information, too many ways to fail at learning it.

  Still, today I decided to give it a try.

  “Let’s see…”

  Muttering to myself has become a recent habit. It helps me process information, reinforcing it in my memory. Interestingly, I also retain what Isolde says out loud when she studies magic and combat. Maybe that’s what they call auditory learning.

  Sounds useful.

  I wonder if I have visual learning too. That would be even better.

  Setting aside my musings, I focused on a topic that caught my interest: blood magic. It’s in the healing magic section, which suggests it has applications in regenerating red and white blood cells.

  Blood Healing Magic: Regulates, purifies, and manipulates blood, improving its quality, eliminating toxins and diseases. It also allows the creation and control of artificial blood for offensive and strategic purposes in combat.

  Interesting. Creation and control of artificial blood. Does that imply a direct connection to mana and Syrix?

  Complete detoxification of the blood system: Removes poisons and infectious diseases.

  Regeneration and control of blood flow: Stops hemorrhages and accelerates the production of red and white blood cells.

  Creation of artificial blood: Allows the generation of blood from mana, either for transfusions or to replace blood lost in combat. It can also be used for offensive and defensive purposes.

  This is where it gets really interesting.

  Offensive and defensive magic with artificial blood: Manipulates created blood to form weapons, projectiles, whips, or traps. It can coagulate to harden into shields on parts of the body. Compressed blood can be fired at high speed, strong enough to pierce objects. Blood can be concentrated at a specific point on the body to enhance physical attacks.

  Control of clots and blood pressure: Can immobilize or weaken an enemy by altering their blood flow.

  Increased oxygenation and stamina: Enhances the user’s body, improving reflexes and physical stats for combat.

  This is definitely too much.

  The problem isn’t just understanding it, but learning to use it without the theory remaining as mere useless knowledge. However, if I can grasp the relationship between mana, Syrix, and the creation of artificial blood, maybe I can do something with this information.

  Something tells me that if I master this branch of magic, the possibilities will be endless.

  And that, definitely, is worth trying.