He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of mortality press against his chest.
The house door creaked open. Footsteps echoed—hesitant, small, almost reluctant.
Kelvin turned his head.Lucy stood at the entrance, her white dress slightly wrinkled, eyes red from crying.
When she saw him, she froze. For a second, their eyes met—the red of his irises glowing faintly in the dusk, and her watery blue ones trembling with guilt.
But Lucy quickly looked away and walked past him, her small feet padding softly up the stairs. The faint sound of her door closing echoed through the house.
Kelvin watched her disappear, expression unreadable.He let out a quiet sigh.
So she still hates me…No, not hate. She just doesn't understand.It's fine. I was never good at understanding others either.
He leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The warmth of the sun brushed against his face.
To think that I—the one who once crushed the heavens and silenced the gods—am now sitting in a peaceful house, being called weak by my own sister.How ironic.
He chuckled faintly, almost self-mockingly.
Kelvin's hand moved toward a thick book lying open on the table. The title read:"Introduction to Mana: A Beginner's Guide."
Mana… So this world uses it as a core source of strength.When I was still a god, I had no need for it. I forged power from will and divinity itself.But I do remember creating something… a breathing technique that could absorb the world's flow and refine the body.At that time, I called it pointless. Now… it might be my only key.
He flipped through the pages, scanning the diagrams of mana veins and core flow.His eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered the faint blueprint of the technique he once crafted—Divine Breath.
If mana truly flows through the body like this… perhaps I can rebuild my foundation.Not as a god, but as Kelvin Reinhart.
He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice footsteps approaching until a familiar, deep voice broke the silence.
"Still reading, I see."
Kelvin looked up.Standing near the staircase was his father, Raon Reinhart, a tall man with dark brown hair streaked with faint silver, his eyes kind but sharp. His presence filled the room effortlessly, not because of power—but because of the quiet authority in his tone.
Kelvin straightened slightly. "Father."
Raon walked closer and sat opposite him, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. He glanced at the open book and smiled faintly.
"So, Kelvin," Raon began, "I've been thinking about what we talked about this morning."
Kelvin raised an eyebrow. "About the academy?"
Raon nodded. "Yes. I wanted to ask whether you'd like a teacher before you attend Arcane Blade Academy. I can hire a good mentor—perhaps a swordsman or a mage—to help you prepare."
Kelvin looked back at his book, then at his father. "No. I'll learn on my own."
Raon tilted his head, slightly surprised. "On your own?"
"Yes." Kelvin's tone was calm, unwavering. "If I rely on others now, I'll never understand my own path. I've decided to build my strength from the beginning—with my own hands."
Raon crossed his arms, studying his son's expression."…But Kelvin, you've never practiced swordsmanship or magic before," he said gently. "Learning both without guidance could take years."
Kelvin smirked faintly, closing the book with a soft thud. "Then tell me, Father… why do you think I'm reading this book so seriously?"
Raon blinked, then let out a low laugh. "Ah, I see. I forgot—you always were the type who preferred to figure things out on your own. A scholar at heart, huh?"
Kelvin looked away, but there was the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.
He doesn't know that I'm not learning from the book… I'm recalling knowledge that even the gods once envied.
"I'll become stronger," Kelvin said firmly. "In my own way. So please, don't worry about me."
Raon leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "Alright," he said after a moment. "I won't force you. But remember—strength means nothing without purpose."
Kelvin looked at him silently.Raon's gaze softened. "And from what I've seen, you already have a purpose—to protect those you care about, even if they don't understand you yet."
The warmth in his voice caught Kelvin off guard.For a second, he didn't know how to respond.
He nodded slowly. "…Thank you, Father."
Raon smiled. "Good. Because there's something else I need to tell you."
Kelvin tilted his head. "Something else?"
"Yes." Raon's tone turned a little more serious. "Cain Reinhart is returning home soon."
Kelvin's eyes widened slightly. "Cain… is coming back?"
Raon nodded. "That's right. He sent a letter a few days ago. Said he'd be returning after completing his expedition. We don't know when exactly, but it should be soon."
The name Cain Reinhart echoed in Kelvin's mind like a distant bell.
Cain—the eldest son. My older brother.It's been… years since I last saw him.
Kelvin leaned back slowly. "Lucy's never met him, has she?"
"No," Raon replied. "She was just a baby when Cain left for his training in the northern frontlines. They'll probably feel awkward at first, but I'm sure they'll get along eventually."
Kelvin nodded slightly, though his gaze drifted toward the stairs where Lucy had disappeared earlier.
Lucy wants a strong brother. And Cain is exactly that. Talented, powerful, admired.If she meets him… maybe she'll forget about me entirely.
The thought hurt more than Kelvin wanted to admit.
Raon seemed to notice the shadow flicker across his son's eyes. He reached out and placed a large, warm hand on Kelvin's shoulder.
"Don't worry about that," he said softly. "You are my son, Kelvin. And I know you. You might not see it yet, but one day—you'll surpass even Cain. Perhaps even me."
Kelvin blinked, startled by the certainty in his father's voice.
Surpass him? Even Father?He doesn't know that I once surpassed gods themselves.But… it feels strange hearing it like this. Human. Simple. Warm.
Raon stood up, patting Kelvin's shoulder once more. "I'll be in the training hall if you need me," he said. "Don't stay up too late reading."
Kelvin nodded. "I won't."
When his father left, the room grew quiet again. The last sliver of sunlight faded beyond the horizon, and night crept into the Reinhart home.
Kelvin stared at the closed book before him, then looked up at the faint glow of the moon outside the window.
Father believes in me.Lucy resents me.And Cain… is coming back.Looks like things are about to get a little more complicated.
He leaned back, eyes narrowing as he focused on his breathing.The air in the room felt still—too still.
He inhaled deeply.A faint pulse—like a spark—moved in his chest. It was almost invisible, but Kelvin felt it.
So this is mana…The lifeblood of this world.
He exhaled, slow and steady.
For the first time in years, he felt something awaken—faint, distant, but undeniably alive.
Maybe this is where it begins again.The rise of the War God… in the body of a mere boy.
Outside, the moon climbed higher, casting a silver glow over the Reinhart estate.Inside, a quiet resolve burned behind Kelvin's crimson eyes.
The night was silent, but in that silence—something ancient began to stir.
The moon floated high above the Reinhart estate, its light gently spilling through the open window of Kelvin's room.The night air was cool, silent—yet strangely alive.
Kelvin sat at the edge of his bed, his crimson eyes reflecting the silver glow outside.He looked at his hands, still trembling slightly from the earlier conversation with his father.
I said I'd become strong in my own way.Then let's begin now.
He inhaled deeply and stood up, the wooden floor cold beneath his bare feet.The faint hum of mana could be felt around him—it was subtle, like the whisper of wind, but his sharpened senses caught it.
He dragged a small rug to the middle of the floor, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes.
I should begin with meditation… the breathing technique I once made.Back when I was still the God of War.
His breathing slowed.Inhale…Exhale…The rhythm was steady, deliberate.
And then—he began.
A faint red glow pulsed under his skin, tracing invisible paths along his arms and chest. They shimmered like veins of molten light, then faded, then pulsed again, syncing with his breath.
The Divine Breath. A technique I forged long ago to balance divine and mortal essence.But now… I'll use it with mana instead of divinity.
The first few moments were smooth—mana began flowing through his body, circling around his chest before gathering near his abdomen.But suddenly—
—Crack!
Kelvin's brow furrowed.The mana flow resisted him, spiraling wildly out of rhythm. The red glow flickered and warped, forming violent whirlpools across his mana veins.
Tch. I remember now… this technique was never meant for mortals.If I lose control now, the mana could reverse—turning inward and rupturing my body from the inside.
The air around him trembled. Dust lifted off the floor, curtains swayed as if touched by a silent wind.But Kelvin didn't move. His heartbeat slowed, his breath remained steady.
Panic only brings disaster. Calm. Control it. Guide it.
He extended his awareness inward. The chaotic mana began to slow, coiling back under his command like wild beasts tamed by a silent master.
Seconds passed—then minutes.And then… something clicked.
A surge of warmth flooded through him. Three small points of light ignited deep within his body—at his abdomen, chest, and forehead.
They glowed faintly crimson, pulsing in unison with his breath.
Three dantians…?Interesting. I didn't expect the human body to hold this structure naturally.
He exhaled softly, a faint steam leaving his lips. The mana around him began to settle.
I did it. The first step.
But even in success, something felt strange.
Humans normally store mana in a "core"… at least, that's what the book said.Yet my body formed three dantians instead.Did I modify my vessel subconsciously? Or is this remnant divine structure still within me?
He opened his eyes, staring at his glowing hands. The crimson light slowly faded until the room returned to its quiet darkness.
Kelvin leaned back slightly, resting his hand against his chest.He could feel the mana flowing—weak, unstable, but undeniably alive.
So this is mana breathing.Not bad for a first attempt.
He chuckled faintly. The sound echoed softly in the silent room.
But then, another thought crossed his mind—a colder one.
If this world has mana… and humans have advanced enough to build academies for magic and swordsmanship…Then who built this world?When I fell, all gods were gone. I destroyed them myself.
He frowned, his crimson eyes dimming.
Could it be that another god was born after my fall? Or perhaps… one of them survived?
He closed his eyes, lost in thought.
If there were still gods, it meant the divine cycle had restarted.And if the divine cycle had restarted—then perhaps the peace he now lived in… was only temporary.
The floor creaked.
Kelvin's eyes snapped open.His instincts sharpened immediately.
The doorknob turned slowly.Click.
The door opened.
Kelvin reacted instantly—he laid down on the bed, pulling the blanket over his body, feigning sleep. The crimson glow had already vanished.
The door opened quietly, and a soft voice filled the room.
"Kelvin?"
It was his mother.Maria Reinhart, the Holy Saint of the realm.
Her golden hair shimmered in the moonlight, and her green eyes held a gentle light. She stepped into the room, her soft healer's robes brushing against the wooden floor.
She looked around curiously.For a moment, she thought she heard something—perhaps the echo of mana or the faint hum of divine resonance—but the room was still.
She smiled faintly. "I must be imagining things."
She looked at her son, asleep under the blanket, his breathing calm and steady. A warmth touched her face.
"You've grown so much, my little one," she whispered, brushing his hair gently. "Sleep well."
Then she quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her.
The room returned to silence.
Kelvin exhaled slowly, eyes still half-open under the blanket.
That was close.If she'd seen the mana flow, she would've sensed divine energy. Even a saint like her might've recognized it.
He sat up again, rubbing his temples lightly.The mana inside him still pulsed faintly—like a heartbeat, slow but constant.
He stared at the moon again.Its glow felt… comforting.
His thoughts began to wander.
Father said Cain will return soon.It's been years since I last saw him.
He leaned back, recalling fragments of memory.
Cain Reinhart, the eldest son — known across the empire as The Silver Lion of the North.A warrior who led battalions of knights against the monsters of the Frozen Front. He was said to have reached 7-Star Swordmaster, a realm far beyond ordinary men.
Miyura Reinhart, his elder sister — the second child. A prodigy mage, rumored to have inherited their mother's divine affinity for light and healing. People called her "The Radiant Witch."Her beauty and intellect were praised across kingdoms.
Kanzou Reinhart, the third son — unlike the others, quiet and mysterious. He studied ancient relics and enchantments in the capital's Arcane Tower. Some said he was eccentric; others believed he was a genius who walked the line between science and sorcery.
And finally—Kelvin Reinhart, the fourth.The weakest of the four siblings.The one who stayed home, reading books while others carved their legends.
But that's fine.Because legends fade. And I've already lived one once.Now… I'll build something different.
He smiled faintly, eyes half-closed.
The soft hum of mana within him grew more stable, adjusting to his breath naturally now.
I wonder if I can truly surpass them all.
The thought wasn't arrogant.It was simple curiosity—one that came from the quiet confidence of someone who once stood above gods.
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, and the moonlight rippled across the floor.
Kelvin lay back down, letting his body relax as his thoughts slowly drifted to sleep.
But deep within his body—within the three newly formed dantians—a faint resonance stirred.It was quiet, but undeniable.
A fragment of divine essence, buried deep inside his mortal soul, pulsed faintly—responding to the mana for the first time in fifteen years.
The red glow flickered once beneath his skin, invisible to all.
And then it faded, leaving only silence.