Chapter 1 — The Boy Who Shouldn’t Exist

The morning bell echoed through the air like the toll of some ancient church.

Jack sat at his desk in Arcaneis Academy’s Lecture Hall 3, watching sunlight slant in through the tall glass windows. His hand rested against his cheek, half-listening to Professor Varrin drone on about mana circulation patterns. The diagrams on the board glowed faintly, traced with shimmering chalk that pulsed like veins of living light.

Everyone else was scribbling notes, but Jack… didn’t need to.

For some reason, the patterns etched themselves into his mind the moment he looked at them. He could feel them — not just remember them — as though the flow of mana the professor described was already flowing inside his own body.

“Jack Reyu,” Professor Varrin’s sharp voice cut through the air.

Jack blinked. “Yes, sir?”

Varrin’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you’d like to explain why you’re staring into space instead of focusing on the fundamentals of mana control?”

A few chuckles echoed from the back of the class. Jack ignored them. “Because I already know how to do it, sir.”

The professor raised a brow. “Already know? And you’ve demonstrated this… when?”

Jack’s lips quirked into a small, almost arrogant smile. “I can show you right now.”

Varrin stepped back with a mocking gesture. “By all means.”

Jack raised his hand, palm open. He took a breath, closed his eyes, and pictured the mana patterns exactly as they’d been drawn on the board.

The air rippled around his fingers. Purple light bled out of his palm — not the pale blue most mages had, but a deep, swirling violet that seemed to drink in the sunlight. The shape formed perfectly in the air: a mana circle identical to the one on the board, except… alive. It pulsed, each rune beating like a heartbeat.

A few gasps broke the silence. Even Varrin stepped back. “That… isn’t standard mana coloration,” he muttered under his breath.

Jack relaxed his hand, and the circle dissolved like smoke. “Guess I got it right?”

The professor cleared his throat. “See me after class.”

When the lecture ended, Jack didn’t bother staying behind. He knew exactly what “see me after class” meant — more questions, more suspicion, maybe another round of pointless testing. He pushed the door open and stepped into the warm courtyard, the scent of blooming mana-lilies drifting through the air.

A voice called from behind him. “Show-off.”

Jack turned to see Kirito, leaning casually against a pillar, sword slung over his shoulder. His black hair was tied in a loose knot, his academy jacket unbuttoned in total disregard for the dress code.

“You were watching?” Jack asked.

“Of course I was,” Kirito said, grinning. “Half the class is talking about it already. Purple mana? That’s… not exactly subtle.”

Jack shrugged. “Didn’t mean to make a scene.”

“Yeah, well, you made one anyway. You’re lucky Rem wasn’t there to scold you.”

As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out. “What did you do this time, Jack?”

Rem came jogging up, her short brown hair catching the sunlight, her academy satchel bouncing against her hip. She had that look — the one that meant she’d heard just enough to be annoyed.

“Relax,” Jack said, lifting his hands. “I just… answered a question.”

“With purple mana,” Kirito added, smirking.

Rem stopped dead. “Purple?” Her eyes widened. “Jack, do you have any idea what—”

Before she could finish, a small, irritated voice interrupted.

“Can we go five minutes without someone trying to grill the kid?”

A small black cat padded into view, tail flicking lazily. His eyes glowed faint gold, and the silver pendant around his neck shimmered faintly.

“Dio,” Jack said with a faint smile. “You missed my demonstration.”

“I didn’t miss anything,” Dio replied telepathically — his voice sliding into their minds like warm smoke. “I was napping on the roof. And I felt that mana flare from halfway across campus.”

“Great,” Jack muttered. “Now the whole academy probably felt it.”

“They did,” Dio said simply. “And some of them won’t like it.”

Rem folded her arms. “Jack, we’ve talked about this. If your mana’s that unusual, it could draw—”

“I know,” Jack cut her off. “Unwanted attention.”

Kirito looked between them. “You’re hiding something from me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking toward the cafeteria. “Lunch?”

They ended up sitting at their usual corner table in the back of the cafeteria — far from the gossiping clusters of other students. Jack poked at his food absentmindedly, his mind replaying the look on Professor Varrin’s face.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew purple mana wasn’t normal. He’d known it since he was a kid.

Aunt Selene had told him it was “just a quirk,” nothing dangerous — but every year, it got stronger. More… alive. Sometimes, when he used too much, he could hear something in it. A heartbeat that wasn’t his own.

Dio’s voice broke his thoughts. You should be careful, Jack.

Jack didn’t look up. Why?

Because, Dio replied, I’ve seen mana like that before. And the last time I did… it belonged to a king.

Jack froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “A king?” he said aloud before catching himself.

Kirito and Rem both stared at him. “What king?” Rem asked slowly.

Dio didn’t answer. He just yawned and curled his tail around his paws.

Jack forced a laugh. “Forget it. Cat’s being cryptic again.”

But deep down… the word stuck in his mind like a thorn.

A king.

That night, Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The dorm was quiet — only the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. Dio was curled up on his desk chair, fast asleep.

Jack closed his eyes.

For a moment, he saw something — a throne of black stone, a crown of burning silver, and a woman with long white hair and eyes like molten gold, holding a baby in her arms. She was smiling… and crying at the same time.

Then, a shadow fell over her. A man’s voice, deep and cold, said a name Jack had never heard before.

Rusof.

Jack’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding.

Outside, thunder rolled over Arcaneis Academy.

And far away, in a place no student had ever seen, someone — or something — had felt the pulse of purple mana.

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