The Letter
It's been five years since that day, and I still can't shake off that feeling — the dread that settled deep inside me.
Still, there's at least one good thing that's happened: Jake was accepted as a student at the Church of Enark.
Once a year, the magic academy allows its students to write letters to their families. Every time Jake's report arrives, I already know what to expect — low grades and scrawled handwriting. He's always near the bottom, but since he's from the poor batch, no one really blames him.
Today, his fifth letter came. As usual, I unfolded it expecting another mediocre report. And I was right — his grades hadn't improved. But tucked beneath it was another letter, addressed directly to me.
It read:
Dear Brother,
I hope you're doing well and staying healthy. I'm doing great here, and I've made a lot of friends — I hope you have too.
I wanted to write this letter to encourage you for your coming-of-age ceremony this year. I know my ceremony didn't exactly leave a fond memory in your mind, but I want you to know that life in the Church isn't all bad. Sure, there's discrimination, neglect, and the occasional bullying... but it's bearable.
I won't be there for your ceremony — I'll soon be entering the Magic Academy of Enark in a few months. Still, I love you, and I hope you have a great time. Don't let the deaths of the other kids get to you.
Your brother,
Jake
Reading it was both heartwarming and heavy.
I really wished Jake could be there for my confirmation, but I couldn't blame him — getting into the Academy is a huge deal. Still, the part about bullying made me worry about his mental health.
As for me, there's no way I can just not worry about my own ceremony. I remember that day too clearly. God Gulista himself declared I had over 130 mana levels, and that those levels don't need any confirmation to become activated. Along with it, you get a basic system interface.
Alright… let's see.
System, activate.
[System activated]
[System synchronizing...]
[System synchronized]
_____________________
[System Panel]
Name: Issac Nolan
Age: 10
Mana: 130
Strength: 100
Durability: 100
Status: Poor
Title: Amusement of God
___________________________
"Amusement of God," huh? That bastard…
But that's not even the worst part — my mana level is 130. Poor kids with more than three are either taken away or killed.
Wait… didn't he say I could learn anything I want in the world?
If that's true, then maybe — just maybe — I can learn a magic or skill to change my mana level.
Let's try this.
[Learn skill]
[Searching…]
[Illusion detected]...
The Confirmation 2
Today is that so-called auspicious day — the Confirmation.
And this time, it isn't for anyone else. It's for me.
Mother told me to wear the same attire my brother once wore. Everything felt identical to his ceremony — the same anthem, the same priest, the same steps — only the faces had changed. Yet somehow, it felt like I was walking through someone else's memories.
Over the past five years, I've made only two friends — both my age.
The first is John, who I met near... well, some animal droppings. Not the ideal spot to find a friend.
The second is George, my mother's friend's son. Since we're all the same age, it's our turn for the ceremony together.
We gathered near the town square fountain with our families, exchanged our goodbyes and forced smiles — "good lucks" that felt heavier than they should — then marched through the Kingdom toward the Church. The anthem hummed through the streets as cheerful faces lined our path, celebrating what they believed was a divine blessing.
Once we arrived, the rituals began. The same assistant priest. The same chant.
But this time, the ceremony started not with Pauperis Town, but with Dives Town.
Why? Because the Royal Family was present.
The Royal Family of Enark, the same name as the kingdom itself, stepped forward. Even the King bowed before the priest, who blessed him and his family — favoritism wrapped in holy robes.
Then came the Prince. I expected a private ceremony, but no — it was clearly for publicity. When he placed his hand on the crystal, the spear-shaped stone glowed a brilliant gold.
"Twenty mana levels!" the priest cried out. "The God Gulista blesses our kingdom!"
The crowd erupted in praise. I could only sigh. Definitely publicity.
Next came the turn for Negotium Town. The first child's fate was sealed in tragedy — a cruel decision passed down by faith. The second was a girl, and from her family's expression, I could guess her future — probably sold off to some rich noble with disgusting tastes.
Then came Count Bolandersan's daughter, Milissa. When she touched the crystal, it glowed white — a rare sign. "Fifteen mana levels!" declared the priest. The nobles cheered.
Soon after, it was Pauperis Town's turn — and with it, more tragedy.
George went first. His crystal shone with a faint blue light — just enough to bring relief to his parents, Julius and Jeff.
Then came John. His mother had died in the goblin raid nine years ago, leaving him and his father behind. Every time I see him, I feel that weight.
When he stepped up to the crystal, there was no fear, no excitement — only calmness. Confidence? Or maybe numbness.
As his hand touched the crystal, it glowed red — bright and ominous. But the number displayed was 1 mana level.
Still, the priest shouted, "The Devil has cursed this child with 9 mana levels!"
My blood ran cold.
Then it was my turn. My legs trembled. I could barely breathe.
As I reached out, I triggered my system—
[Activate illusion magic]
[Illusion magic failed]
My heart sank. What? Failed?
No time to panic. I tried again.
[Activate illusion magic]
[Illusion magic activated]
[Number changed to 1]
The crystal glowed blue. The priest announced my mana level — 1 — and I walked back toward my parents. They hugged me with joy, but my mind was spinning.
Three things didn't make sense.
First — John's crystal glowed red for 1 mana level.
Second — my illusion failed once before activating.
And third — even though the system said it only changed the number, the crystal itself changed color.
None of this adds up.
Something isn't right.
The Uncertain Goodbyes
After the ceremony, the children were sent home for a day. We were told to pack our belongings and return to the church the next morning.
When we reached home, my parents celebrated with a small meal — a bit of well-cooked meat. My mother and I had milk, while my father drank his usual beer. After dinner, I went to bed while my mother quietly packed my things.
I could hear them whispering and crying as they folded my clothes. I didn't move; I just lay there, knowing that tomorrow would begin a new chapter of my life.
When morning came, they hugged me tightly, tears streaming down their faces. After a while, they calmed down and helped me put on my clothes. We walked together toward the church gates.
As we reached the entrance, my father said softly, "We wish you the best of luck, son," gently caressing my face.
My mother, holding back tears, whispered, "I love you."
We said our goodbyes.
And then, I stepped forward — into the den of the wicked.
The Church's works
It has been forty-two days since I arrived at the Church of Enark, and in that time, I've witnessed its inner workings far too clearly.
Here, the rich are pampered.
And the poor… are punished.
The privileged students study magic, etiquette, and combat, while the poor serve as their cleaners, errand-runners, and shadows. Each wealthy child is assigned four servants, and every morning—before the rich even open their eyes—the poor must complete their chores.
As someone from Pauperis Town, I'm no exception.
I have a master as well.
Lady Mila Lovarte, daughter of Count Lovarte of Dawnreach, is known across Enark for her grace—and her unnerving calm in moments where most would break. Under her authority, there are four servants: Marla, Ron, Harry, and myself.
Between us and Lady Mila lies a wall thicker than the church's stone pillars.
Marla serves as her personal maid, since she is a girl, and Ron, Harry, and I answer to Marla. Every noble is allowed to bring two servants to each class, and Lady Mila chooses who accompanies her.
Naturally, Marla is always chosen first.
The remaining seat rotates between the boys.
Today was my turn. Ron and Harry stayed behind to finish the chores while Marla led me through the long hallway, explaining Lady Mila's schedule.
Eight lectures.
Five tea parties.
By the time we finished seven lectures and four tea parties, the sun had dipped low. There was still one lecture and one final tea gathering left, but my feet already felt numb.
The earlier tea parties were… tolerable at best. Lady Mila at least seemed to enjoy them. But the last one before the lecture was torture. Lady Martina and Lady Carla started arguing—if you can even call it that.
No shouting, no insults.
Just quiet, delicate sips of tea as they roasted each other in the most boring ways possible.
Their "fight" was so dull that I started to zone out.
But everything changed the moment we stepped into the final lecture hall.
A crystal at the center stage glowed, bright enough to hurt my eyes. A blinding flash erupted—and from it emerged a tall man with dim gold hair and sharp brown eyes, standing with the arrogance of someone who believed the world owed him worship.
He immediately began praising himself, belittling the rich, the poor, and pretty much everyone except himself.
Confused, I whispered to Marla, "Who is that?"
She replied quietly,
"Markal Nicholai. He majored in crystal magic. He manufactures and codes the mana crystals… and he's the personal tutor of the Prince."
"Oooh," I muttered. "So that's why he's acting all high and mighty."
After minutes of self-glorification, he finally began the lecture.
"Today," he announced, "we will learn about the mana crystals produced exclusively by the Nicholas Company. These masterpieces are the very crystals that confirmed your mana during your ceremonies."
He held up a glowing shard.
"This type can be modified through coding. The one at the church altar is programmed with analytical deduction magic. It is primarily used for—"
His lips curled.
"—tax analysis."
Wait… tax analysis?
I muttered the words under my breath, but Marla's grip suddenly tightened around my arm. Her voice, trembling but firm, whispered:
"God Gulista's followers are pure evil. They pretend to be holy, but only the rich are human to them. The poor… we're insects—things they can crush whenever they want."
She swallowed back her fear.
"I pray God sends a saviour. Someone strong enough to free us from this suffering."
Lady Mila's request
After that class, many things had become clear to me.
This world openly discriminated against the poor. Still, there was nothing I could do about it—I was nothing more than a lowly servant.
Once the day's lectures and tea parties concluded, we escorted our masters back to their quarters. That was our primary duty. The inner church itself was divided into three sections, each corresponding to the status of the towns.
When we reached Lady Mila's room, Marla suddenly ran off.
Under her breath, Lady Mila muttered, "That snitch."
Confused, I asked, "Why do you call her that?"
"She ran off to report everything I did today to the priest," Lady Mila replied calmly. "Every personal servant is required to report their master's actions—even private ones."
"Ah… I see," I said, watching Marla's silhouette disappear down the corridor.
As I turned to leave for my own quarters, a sweet yet stern voice stopped me.
"Issac, you will escort me to my house tomorrow."
I turned back in surprise.
"W–What?"
"Tomorrow, there is a family meeting at House Lovarte," she said firmly. "I will require a servant to escort me. That servant will be you."
I hesitated. "But… no one is allowed to return home."
She smirked faintly. "Oh? You can—if you have money, that is."
"Shouldn't Marla be the one escorting you?" I asked.
For a brief moment, sadness flickered across her face. "I don't want the church to know about my family's affairs."
That explained everything.
I had no reason to refuse, so I agreed.
The next morning, I entered Lady Mila's room—forgetting to knock.
The moment I stepped inside, my mind went completely blank. What I saw , was an angelic body covered in a thin night dress.
Before I could react, a hair comb came flying straight at my face. I barely caught it in time.
"Get out!" she shouted.
I immediately fled the room.
A few minutes later, she emerged fully dressed. Her face was slightly flushed, and—perhaps because of what I'd seen—I found the situation oddly awkward. I let out a small chuckle without thinking.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Do not misunderstand," she said sharply. "Just because you saw me like that does not mean you are allowed to be comfortable around me. You are still my servant."
She paused before adding coldly, "As punishment, you will walk the entire way to House Lovarte."
I swallowed.
"…Understood," I replied, agreeing reluctantly.