The Last Archmage Reborn as the Forgotten Heir

Chapter 03

In his home world of Arcana, mana was abundant, filling the atmosphere like a boundless, endless ocean. A mage didn't even need to struggle; simply breathing would cause their mana core to fill completely on its own.

Yet here...

He had to gather the invisible dust scattered in the air, and even then, in such a pitiful amount.

Felix closed his eyes. The Mana Core within his soul began to spin once more, slow and measured. The cracks on the surface of the crystal pulsed along, emitting a dim light.

One revolution. Two revolutions. Three...

Crack!

Felix’s eyes flew wide open. A new crack, thin yet dangerous, had just formed in his own mana core.

"...Damn it."

He immediately cut off the flow of energy in a fraction of a second.

"If I push it any further..." His face turned dark. "...this core will shatter into pieces."

And if that Mana Core truly broke, the entire ocean of magical knowledge he had stored for thousands of years would become a pile of useless trash. He would be trapped as a weak, ordinary human.

Felix clenched his right hand until his knuckles turned white.

The alley atmosphere returned to absolute silence, save for the rhythm of rainwater droplets falling from the rusty zinc roof. Felix folded his legs, taking a cross-legged position on the damp ground. He regulated the rhythm of his breathing.

Once. Twice.

He plunged himself into total meditation. Not to urge the growth of his strength, but to filter every single speck of mana, no matter how small, that he could find in the surrounding environment.

Time passed without a sound.

Time slipped away.

The thin mana from the air slowly gathered inside the Mana Core.

An hour later Felix opened his eyes.

A stream of terribly thin mana crept into the core of his soul, like morning dew falling upon a cracked desert. Slow. Extremely slow.

Nearly an hour later, Felix opened his eyes again.

His physique had not undergone drastic changes, but he could feel a significant difference within his body. His heart was beating much more steadily. His breathing was no longer ragged. The wounds on his skin surface had healed completely.

Only his ribcage remained.

He moved his shoulders slowly to the left and to the right.

Crack.

"Still cracked." Felix clicked his tongue softly. "But at least I won't die suddenly from internal bleeding."

By the standards of an Archmage, that was more than enough as a starting capital.

He tried to stand up for the second time. This time, both of his legs successfully supported his body upright, though a subtle tremble could still be felt in his calves. Felix stepped forward.

One step. Two steps.

No falling down. The corner of his lips lifted into a thin line.

"There is progress."

He walked with a limp down the narrow alley corridor. Suddenly, his vision caught a glimmer of dim reflected light from behind a pile of large garbage bags near the wall.

A black leather wallet, worn out and peeling at the edges.

Felix stopped his steps. Kaelan’s foreign memories instantly flashed in his head, identifying the object as his own. He picked up the wallet and opened it.

The contents were dismal.

A few paper bills, crumpled and folded repeatedly. A student ID card. A wallet-sized identity card.

Felix pulled the identity card out from the yellowing plastic sleeve.

KAELAN GARRISON

The face of an unfamiliar young man stared back from the surface of the card. Felix gazed at the portrait intently in silence.

"Kaelan Garrison."

The name now legitimately became his new identity in this world.

Tucked behind the identity card was a neatly folded small photo. A middle-aged man with a warm smile was hugging and carrying a little boy on his shoulders. The boy’s face was a younger version of Kaelan. However, the right side of the photo appeared jaggedly torn, as if someone had intentionally ripped away another figure who originally stood beside them.

Felix stared at the photo for quite a long time. "So... this is your father."

No answer.

Felix slipped the identity card back into the pocket of his torn hoodie.

Kaelan Garrison.

From now on, that name belonged to him. He raised his head. Behind the clearing rain, fragments of Kaelan’s memories pointed to a single direction.

A house. A large gate. A faint nameplate.

Felix stepped slowly toward the end of the alley.

This vessel was still fragile. The Mana Core was still cracked. Yet his steps no longer wavered.

"Kaelan."

Felix’s voice was soft, almost like a whisper to the soul that had departed.

"I will take back everything that should have belonged to you."

Then he walked out of the alley that had been the site of Kaelan’s death. Without once looking back.