Uninvited Existence

I heaved a sigh, trying to calm and refresh my mind. My gaze fell on the silver watch around my wrist. Before I attempted my magic, the hands had pointed to 1:03. Now, they showed 1:11.

9 minutes had passed.

That… honestly took a long time. And my magic wasn't even complete yet—an incomplete drop of water.

If it were any other magician, a Tier 1 spell would take far less time, likely under 5 seconds. Even an average folks could manage it within a 20 seconds . I mused over the comparison, a wry smile tugging at my lips. If I were in an actual battle, I'd be dead before I even managed to form an attack—if not for my regeneration, thanks to my ghoul traits.

…Sigh.

I shook off the frustration and prepared to try again.

"Let's hope the curse doesn't act up this time," I muttered under my breath.

Opening my palm, I began anew, carefully constructing each atom with raw mana, repeating the same grueling process from before.

If I wanted to use this magic efficiently—without spending minutes forming a single drop—I'd probably need the processing power of a supercomputer. I chuckled inwardly at the thought.

———

Time passed. How long exactly, I wasn't sure, but it certainly felt longer than before. Sweat beaded on my temple as I maintained my focus, my breath unconsciously syncing into a steady rhythm, even though I didn't need to breathe.

"One more," I mumbled softly.

Then, finally—

The result of my efforts materialized in my hand.

A single drop of water.

A small, transparent sphere, floating weightlessly above my open palm, tranquil and still.

A hint of joy and satisfaction welled up within me. Even if it was just a small achievement, it was proof of progress.

"Fortunately, the curse didn't slap me in the face this time," I mused with a wry chuckle.

I gazed at the small, floating droplet, admiring the result of my painstaking efforts.

Then, cautiously, I attempted to move it.

With a slow, careful motion, I guided the drop in a donut shape above my palm, afraid that even the slightest miscalculation would cause it to destabilize and pop. The sensation was strange—it wasn't like holding a solid object, nor was it like moving air. It felt fluid yet structured, resisting my control in subtle ways as though the droplet had its own will.

As I became more accustomed to its movement, I gradually increased the pace, maneuvering it more freely, even twirling it between my fingers. A peculiar sensation ran through my fingertips, like a thin, smooth layer of resistance—similar to when touching the surface of water, but without the feeling of wetness.

It was mesmerizing.

Then, a fleeting curiosity struck me.

Since I had lost count of how many molecules I created to form this drop of water, could I sense the number now that it was complete?

Without hesitation, I steadied my palm and focused intently on the droplet. It remained still, suspended weightlessly. I narrowed my awareness, 'looking' into it—not with my eyes, but through the essence of my magic.

And then, I saw it.

An endless amount of tiny, intricate structures packed together in a seamless dance of molecular bonds. They weren't just still—they vibrated, shifting minutely, an ocean of microscopic movement. It was overwhelming, almost dizzying, yet fascinating.

I began to inspect them, not by counting, but by something closer to 'scanning.' Information surged into my mind, as though my magic was reading and interpreting the sheer mass of molecules present.

After some time, I lifted my gaze, slightly surprised.

"Quite a lot," I muttered to myself.

The drop contained about 1.67 sextillion molecules of water.

…Wait.

There's… it was this many?

My eyes stared blankly as my thoughts tried to process what I had just accomplished.

'One point six seven sextillion'.

That wasn't just a big number—it was an absurd number.

How did I even know the exact amount? And how was I so sure that it was sextillion?

It was like… I wasn't counting them individually, but rather scanning them all at once, instantly comprehending their sheer quantity.

Thinking about that amount alone was already overwhelming. But the real absurdity?

It had only taken me around an hour and a half.

I glanced down at my watch—2:39 PM.

The realization made my lips part slightly. No wonder the process felt so slow and mentally draining… and yet, if I actually thought about it, completing this much within just an hour was unbelievably fast.

If I were to painstakingly construct each molecule one by one, how long would it have taken?

Millennia? No… far longer than that.

And yet, I had done it within a short span of time—because I wasn't actually creating them individually.

I recalled my process earlier—I had been forming molecules in clusters, generating hundreds or thousands at once rather than constructing each one from scratch. My mind must have instinctively adapted, unconsciously grouping and accelerating the process.

Even then…

The fact that I managed this much on my second attempts and the first successful attempt was ridiculous.

Not in a way that made me feel powerful—but rather, in a way that made me realize how impractical my magic was in a real combat situation.

Creating this single drop took everything—an immense amount of concentration, patience, and mana. And speaking of mana…

How much had I actually used?

That thought immediately came to mind.

I shifted my focus inward, sensing the flow of energy in my mana heart—the core of my magical power.

There was still a good amount left.

Not too much, but I wasn't on the verge of collapse either.

If I had to estimate… my mana reserves were at about two-thirds of their full capacity.

I frowned slightly.

It was hard to gauge if that was too much or just right.

For reference, Tier 1 spells—simple elemental magic—barely consumed any mana. From what I had read and been taught, even an average magician could cast them with ease, using only a fraction of their reserves.

And yet, my process had drained an entire portion of my reserves just for this one drop.

Was this a ridiculous amount of consumption?

Though, perhaps this comparison wasn't entirely fair. I was still a child, and my mana heart had only recently developed. My mana efficiency was far from optimized. Either way, I needed to find a way to refine this magic—to make it practical.

Maybe, as I continued progressing, I'd discover the method naturally.

I exhaled softly and shifted my attention back to the floating droplet.

'Let's be patient and work a little harder from now on'.

With that resolve, I decided to test one more thing.

'Now, let's send this off'.

Stretching out my hand, I prepared to 'launch' my small, pitiful water spell.

I recalled how my maid, Risu, had demonstrated magic before. Mimicking her, I extended my open palm vertically, then willed the water to move forward, as if 'throwing' it.

The droplet obeyed.

Well, kind of.

It traveled outward, but sluggishly, wobbling through the air before clumsily curving toward the ground and splashing weakly.

…That was disappointing.

Then—

Giggles.

A soft, amused giggle broke the silence.

I turned my head to the side—standing a short distance away, watching me with warm eyes, was Risu.

She had been there for a while, silently observing my struggle.

…I guess I needed to work on this part, too.

I sighed internally, suppressing a wry smile.

I continued experimenting with my magic a bit more before finally calling it a day.

Or rather, I had no choice—my mana pool was completely drained, and exhaustion was starting to creep in. My body felt sluggish, my mind slightly hazy, a telltale sign of mana depletion.

With that, my training session came to an end.

As for the remaining time in the afternoon…

Well, I ended up spending it at a tea session.

Not exactly by my own volition.

Apparently, while Risu was returning to me after finishing her duties, she happened to run into my mother, who was taking a short break from her work. They chatted briefly—about me, mostly—or so Risu informed me.

And taking that chance, my mother sent a reminder through Risu.

A reminder to join her for tea.

I wasn't particularly thrilled.

Even though I had attended these tea sessions plenty of times before, I was never really a fan. I always found ways to avoid them when invited, offering various reasons to excuse myself.

But today…

For some reason, I didn't mind indulging her.

And so, here I was.

The spacious backyard—a place that looked less like a garden and more like a miniature royal sanctuary—served as the setting for this gathering. Despite its elegance, it had a warm and intimate atmosphere, untouched by the stiffness of noble formalities.

This was her personal retreat.

"My baby~"

A lovely, melodic voice rang through the open space.

Before I could react, a pair of warm arms wrapped around me, engulfing my small five-year-old body in a tight embrace.

…Honestly.

Hearing her call me that made something in my stomach churn.

I may look like a child, but mentally, I was a full-grown twenty-year-old. If I included my past life, that made me twenty-five.

Being addressed this way was… nauseating.

Not to mention, it gave me the same feeling as when I had to act like a proper toddler.

Though, I suppose this wasn't as bad.

"Come, sit here," my mother said gently, gesturing toward a beautifully crafted chair beside her own.

I complied.