I Became a Magical Genius After Regression

Chapter 2

In his childhood, Randel’s father was a herbalist.

His skills were not that great. He barely managed to gather small herbs to keep food on the table.

His mother did housework and also did some sewing for money. During the busy farming season, she helped with the farming and earned wages.

The eldest brother was a hunter.

The second brother was the village carpenter and a member of the vigilante group.

The youngest sister worked at an inn.

Anyway, they were cherished memories.

Because the family had all died 27 years ago.

“Huh…?”

So Randel could only blink in confusion.

It was a natural reaction.

He had definitely made graves for each of them…

They had all died that day, 27 years ago…

But now, his family was sitting at the same table, having dinner together.

“Randel, are you feeling unwell?”

Randel, who had been staring blankly, turned his head at the worried voice. It was his mother.

Her face was full of concern.

It was understandable, as her son, who had been eating well, suddenly looked as if he had seen a ghost, his face pale.

“Ah, Mom…”

Randel looked at his mother, murmuring as if overwhelmed with emotion or confusion.

Her rough and wrinkled skin caught his eye.

She was in her late thirties, but she looked much older due to all the hardships she had endured.

A face he had dreamed of.

A face he thought he would never see again.

His heart surged with emotion.

But what came out of his mouth was,

“No, it’s just… you’re all alive?”

Then silence fell over the dining table.

His younger brother, who had been silently eating oatmeal, spoke.

“Crazy b*stard.”

Randell couldn’t finish his meal in the end.

Instead, he staggered back to the room on the second floor that he shared with his brothers.

Thud.

As he threw himself onto the bed, dust puffed up. He felt the touch of dry straw stuffed into cheap fabric.

Swoosh.

Randell, who had been lying down for a while, raised his hand in front of his eyes.

Small. And clean.

‘Is this my hand?’

The hand Randell remembered, the hand that had gathered mana just a moment ago, was not like this.

It had some wrinkles befitting his forties, and it was covered with burns and scars from his mercenary life.

Randell repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist in wonder.

It wasn’t just his hand that was strange.

The blackened, smoked ceiling visible between his fingers, the broken shelf corner, the old clothes hanging on the wall…

“Sniff sniff.”

A foul smell wafted in from outside. It was the smell of the oil used to tan the animal hides that his eldest brother had brought in.

It was extremely unfamiliar, yet at the same time, familiar.

Because it was a time he had once missed madly.

Randell pressed his throbbing temples with his hands and fell into thought.

His memory was clear. There was no confusion, no missing parts.

‘I definitely died.’

He was attacked while excavating the ruins.

And he was unlucky enough to be hit by an arrow, and died without being able to treat the poison on it.

He remembered that fact so clearly.

So his mind was intact.

‘Then am I dreaming now?’

No. This was definitely reality.

Randell looked around.

A world of utmost detail unfolded before his eyes.

The flow of air felt with every swing of his hand.

The dust scattering in irregular directions.

Even the fractal structure of the cobweb in the corner of the room.

‘There’s no way I could dream such a complex dream.’

Dreams are the product of the unconscious mind based on memories.

But there is no one who remembers every speck of dust around them in detail.

Naturally, dreams had to be vague.

So no matter how intense the dream, all that remains is the situation or the background at best.

Then there is only one conclusion.

This is reality…

“Did I really come back to the past?”

Randell laughed out loud at the absurdity of his own muttering.

Saying he came back to the past meant he turned back time.

Such time-related magic is not difficult.

Nor is it easy.

What I mean is, regardless of whether it’s easy or difficult, it’s simply an impossible realm.

For hundreds of years, countless geniuses have tried, but no one has conquered even a second of time.

But to not only adjust time but to send a person back to the past?

‘That can’t be possible. That’s truly the realm of gods… huh?’

As he thought that far, something flashed in his mind.

‘The God’s Box!’

That pure white metal box.

The box that asked him a question at the very last moment.

The box that shattered into pieces in his hands at the same time.

Not to mention, not everyone who dies goes back to the past.

‘But I’m that dog or cow.’

One of the many failed wizards.

The only special thing about Randell was the God’s Box, which had the power to destroy the continent.

So this was definitely that thing’s doing.

‘But why? For what reason did it send me to the past?’

The God’s Box demanded 10,000 lives from Randell.

And Randell flatly refused it.

Not only did he refuse, but he also smashed them to pieces in revenge against the attackers.

It was an artifact that could even speak. To it, Randel was probably an enemy.

‘But it doesn’t seem like it sent me to the past on purpose. Could it be because I broke the God’s Box?’

When the God’s Box was shattered, a powerful force scattered, twisting time and space.

Or perhaps the God’s Box originally had such a function built into it.

Several hypotheses came to mind, but he soon shook his head.

Anyway, there was no way to confirm if any of them were correct right now.

No matter how much he pondered, it would only give him a headache.

At that moment, a thumping sound came from below.

―Waaah! Second brother hit me!

―You two, didn’t mom tell you not to fight!

In the past, those sounds were unbearably annoying.

He wanted to escape from this house as soon as possible.

But now, they were more endearing than anything else.

Even if he were given the whole world, he wouldn’t trade these sounds.

What’s there to worry about?

Randel stopped worrying and smiled broadly.

“I’m back!”

* * *

April.

Randel’s hometown was in the north. Naturally, winters were long, and spring and autumn were short.

But by April, it was different. The weather became fully spring-like, and all things came to life.

“Ah, the weather is nice.”

Randel was squatting behind the house, basking in the April sunlight.

As he did so, he suddenly remembered the moment before he died. The weather at the ruins had been just as fantastic.

“Smack.”

Randel clicked his tongue and picked up a nearby twig.

He then began to write something on the dirt ground.

[Return]

Randel, he had returned to the past.

So, what should one do if they go back to the past?

If you ask anyone passing by, you’ll get dozens of answers.

But if you summarize them, it becomes very simple.

Randell erased the letters with his foot and wrote new ones.

[Live well and eat well]

A very simple wish, but it was difficult for commoners like Randell.

To avoid starving to death during the long winter, one had to always work and work again.

Is that all?

If a territorial war breaks out, they are conscripted, and if there is a drought or a flood, life becomes even harder.

‘Well, I don’t have to worry about that.’

But for Randell, who had lived in the future, living well and eating well was not difficult.

Because he knew what was going to happen.

In fact, he didn’t know the details. He was too busy taking care of himself to pay attention to other things.

However, there were a few major events that he couldn’t help but know.

A great drought that would starve the east, a civil war that would sweep the kingdom, and who the winner of that power struggle would be.

Just betting on one of these would eliminate any worries about money for life.

Scribble, scribble.

Once he reached a conclusion, Randell wrote the next words.

[Magic]

‘Magic… a word of love and hate.’

Randell started learning magic when he was 14 years old.

He went to the lord’s castle and happened to meet a magician from the magician’s guild, who recognized Randell’s talent and took him as a disciple.

‘At that time, my master’s eyes turned upside down when he saw me.’

Randell’s mana affinity was tremendous at the time.

If an ordinary person could gather 10 units of mana with a month’s training,

Randell could gather 100 units with the same time and effort.

Mana gathered just by breathing.

‘But then, what’s the use of that?’

His talent for gathering mana, his mana affinity, was enough to go down in history.

But the problem was… he couldn’t do anything with the mana he gathered.

In fact, all living things possess mana.

Even a passing woodcutter has it, and a certain amount of mana lies dormant within the body of a herbalist.

So, what is the difference between them and a magician?

‘It’s whether they can directly manipulate the mana themselves.’

Processing the mana within the body to manifest it in reality.

That is magic.

And that processing is called casting.

The problem is.

‘I can’t do that… because my formula calculations are terribly slow.’

Others complete a 1st circle spell in 10 seconds, but it takes Randel 30 seconds just to chant.

1st circle spells were still manageable.

But what about 2nd circle, 3rd circle spells?

It took 15 minutes just to cast a 3rd circle spell.

While other magicians could do it in 2 minutes.

Because of that, his skills didn’t improve beyond the 3rd circle.

‘Still, I have to learn, right?’

Even though he was at the 3rd circle, he had over 20 years of experience.

He could confidently say he was more competent than most idiots who were just quick at casting.

But making magic his life’s goal… was a bit much.

This time too, he might ruin his life by repeatedly trying to solve the casting issue.

Nevertheless, he had to learn magic.

‘Not just anyone can become a magician.’

Frankly, a knight, as long as they had a body, could somehow manage to learn.

But not a magician. If you couldn’t feel mana, you couldn’t even start.

That’s why magicians were high-class personnel.

‘Just graduating from the academy could earn you the title of a baronet.’

Although it wasn’t a formal noble title, having it made life much more convenient.

Even when working as a merchant later, except for high-ranking nobles, no one would dare to pick a fight.

Of course, his family would be that much safer too.

Scribble, scribble.

Randel nodded and then erased the letters again.

“…….”

But this time, he couldn’t write the next word immediately.

After hesitating for a moment, Randel finally moved the branch and wrote the word as if pressing it down.

The three letters that came out were.

[Goblin]

A monster with a small stature and green skin.

There are all kinds of monsters in the world, but goblins are the lowest of them all.

A robust adult male could beat two or three of them to death with bare hands.

However, knowing this fact well, they had a habit of moving in groups.

From as few as six to as many as dozens.

‘…About two years left now.’

The reproductive power of goblins was truly terrifying.

So, if underestimated, they could gather in hundreds, and the village could be annihilated by them.

Just like Randel’s village.

‘Damn, to those b*stards…’

Thinking about that time still made his teeth grind.

It was when Randel was learning magic at the academy.

Over 300 goblins attacked Randel’s hometown, and the villagers, after resisting, were all killed.

The only survivors were the four who fled at the beginning.

It was an event that would happen two years from now.

‘It’s still vivid like it was yesterday.’

Randel ran to the village as soon as he heard the news.

But what he could see was only a ruined village and countless graves.

Randel fainted upon seeing the graves of his five family members and woke up only a few days later.

‘Thinking back now… it was from then.’

Until then, even if he couldn’t cast, Randel’s magic level had quickly risen to the 3rd circle.

Raising the circle required not only casting but also mana affinity and enlightenment.

But then, after Randel woke up again.

His level stagnated as if it were a lie.

No matter how hard he tried, the 3rd circle was his limit.

At the time, he just thought that his talent only reached that far.

But now that he thought about it, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

‘Magic is the study of the soul…’

Perhaps something important that made up the human named Randel was broken due to the shock back then.

That’s why his level of magic didn’t rise, and he even rejected the offer from the God’s Box at the last moment.

Grit.

‘But this time will be different.’

Randel ground his teeth as he looked at the word “goblin.”

There were countless ways to deal with them, knowing when they would attack.

He could hire mercenaries, or find evidence of goblins gathering and request a subjugation squad from the lord’s castle.

‘And I can handle them myself.’

After the death of his family.

Even while living as a mercenary, whenever he saw traces of goblins, he would relentlessly track them down.

And he killed and killed again.

Until he felt satisfied.

By now, the number of goblins Randel had killed must be in the thousands.

Thanks to that, he became more of an expert on goblins than anyone else.

But now, the opportunity for revenge had come.

Not just those that looked the same, but those who committed the incident, it was time to show them his honed skills of slaughter.

Just thinking about it made his body boil.

‘Now, it’s roughly decided.’

He calmed his mind with deep breaths and organized his thoughts.

It was simple.

[Learn magic]

[Enter the academy]

[In the meantime, kill all the goblins]

Then, earn money and live happily with his family.

“Let’s go.”

Randel stood up and headed home.

A half-erased word could be seen, trampled underfoot.

It seemed to speak of the goblins’ final moments.

But at that time, Randel didn’t know.

The true power, no, the authority of the God’s Box…

It wasn’t just mere regression.