The Life of a Wizard is Lonely
It wasn’t the kind of loneliness you’d associate with a lone wolf.
It wasn’t about chasing an unrecognized ideal, nor was it about living in an entirely different world alone.
Of course, wizards did have a bit of that lone wolf nature, a tendency to pursue ideals that others couldn’t understand, and a lifestyle that felt separate from the rest of the world.
But at its core, a wizard’s loneliness had little to do with any of those things.
The real reason people avoided wizards was simple—because every single one of them was utterly broken.
It was human instinct to stay away from madmen.
Only those with that survival instinct lived long enough to pass on their genes, so it made sense.
But even from a wizard’s perspective, this was unavoidable.
A wizard is someone who constantly pushes themselves to the brink, seeking something hidden within their own soul.
In fact, unless your mind was at least a little broken, you couldn’t become a wizard at all.
Well, that was all just old talk now.
Kelton, a thoroughly commercial wizard, was far from the typical wizard stereotype.
It had already been thousands of years since the First Emperor ended the Age of Myths with a single sword.
A lot had happened since then.
It was only natural that wizards, too, had changed over time.
There’s a saying: “Giving up makes life easier”.
The same applied to wizards.
If you simply accepted your limits, stopped growing at a comfortable level, and focused on earning easy money, you wouldn’t lose your mind.
And yet, Kelton, despite himself, still had lingering ambitions.
It was only recently that he’d begun to let go, realizing it was far too late to chase them now.
That didn’t mean they never resurfaced.
Kelton was someone with a frustratingly mediocre level of talent.
He had realized this long ago, had felt it countless times, but he had only truly understood it in his soul very recently.
He had spent his entire life stuck at the third rank, only barely reaching the fourth rank two years ago.
And, just a little, he regretted it.
Had he known it would turn out like this, he would have trained harder, pushed himself further—before his body started breaking down.
Salmon have an instinct to return to the river of their birth in their final moments.
In that sense, one of Kelton’s unknown parents might as well have been a salmon.
After becoming too old to work as a mercenary, he finally returned to the hometown he had ignored his entire life.
A lot had changed in the decades he’d been gone.
The uncle who had abused him had long since turned to dust.
Everyone he had once known had been dead for at least thirty years.
At that point, it wasn’t really a hometown anymore—just an unfamiliar rural village.
And yet, Kelton felt surprisingly content.
There must be a reason why people seek out their hometowns.
Just being there made him feel at peace.
Kelton sat in a rocking chair in his garden, lazily puffing on his pipe.
The weather was nice.
The sky was high and clear of clouds.
This would be the perfect time for a meat pie and a warm cup of herbal tea—
“Here’s some warm herbal tea.”
“Ah.
Thanks.”
Kelton took the tea and sipped it.
It warmed his body just right, fitting for the crisp autumn air.
He exhaled deeply and set the empty teacup down.
And then, he slowly opened his mouth.
“Who the hell are you?”
It had been so natural, so casual, that even Kelton—after decades as a mercenary—had taken the tea and drunk it without thinking.
Accepting food from a stranger?
Considering his habits, that was unbelievable.
Kelton tilted his head down slightly.
A girl stood there.
Messy silver hair, skin smudged with soot.
And beneath it all, a pair of striking green eyes staring directly at him.
She looked about ten years old.
Very young.
The girl spoke.
“My name is Ruina.”
“I didn’t ask for your name.
What the hell are you doing?”
“I thought you might want some tea.
Was I wrong?”
She wasn’t wrong.
He had wanted tea.
But that wasn’t the point.
“Why would you do this?”
Why had she suddenly come to him and offered tea?
That was what Kelton wanted to know.
The girl answered calmly.
“I want to learn magic.
Will you teach me?”
“Hah.”
Kelton pressed his fingers against his forehead.
Not this again.
For the first two weeks after returning, this had happened every single day.
Ever since word got out that a veteran mercenary wizard had settled in the village.
“I want to learn magic.”
Kids would say it with the most serious expressions, and then disappear just as quickly—thanks to Kelton’s way of handling things.
Kelton refilled his pipe with tobacco and lit it with magic.
Sssss.
As the leaves burned, he spoke.
“If I teach you magic, what do I get in return?
If I asked you to give up your life right now, would you?”
“That would be a problem.”
As expected.
At this point, kids usually responded in one of two ways.
First, they’d lie and say they would give up their life.
Of course, the moment he actually tried to test them, they’d run.
Second, they’d refuse, saying that their life was off the table.
And these were the worst kind.
They’d try to bargain with promises of paying him back in the future or serving him for life.
Kelton hated those types the most.
He lifted his pipe, preparing to tell her to get lost.
But then—
“If I master all the magic in this world, I’ll gladly die for you.
Would that condition work?”
The Girl Who Wanted Magic
More than anything, the girl—Ruina—was quick to respond.
Kelton took a slow drag from his pipe, eyes fixed on her.
Ruina, expressionless yet unwavering, met his gaze without flinching.
Pure, unshaken sincerity.
Kelton let out a dry chuckle.
“Even if I took a person’s life, I’d have no use for it.”
“But you were the one who asked for it, Mr.Kelton.
Besides, you really don’t have any use for a life?
I thought you’d at least be the type to use souls for some special magic or something.”
“My name—…
Ah, so you overheard the villagers talking.
You’re not from around here.
Where did you come from?”
“From another village.”
Kelton didn’t bother asking if she had parents.
Even a clueless child could tell that Ruina either had no parents or was living apart from them.
Tck.
He tapped his pipe, emptying the ash, and fell into thought.
The main reason Kelton had never taken on an apprentice was simple—he didn’t like kids.
They were selfish, cried at the drop of a hat, and worst of all, they were impossible to have a proper conversation with.
But if conversation was possible…
Perhaps, in his twilight years, it wouldn’t be so bad to leave behind something.
And there was something about Ruina—something unusual.
A hint of genius, maybe.
Kelton stood from his rocking chair and gave her a single order.
“First, go wash up.
You’re too filthy to look at.”
A Bit of the Past…
After running away from home and wandering from place to place, I became a wizard’s apprentice—thanks to the great art of Herbal Tea Theft.
But if someone had witnessed my birth—my reincarnation—they might have been confused.
“Wait, wasn’t she born with her parents’ blessing?
Why did she run away?”
The answer?
I wasn’t really born with my parents’ blessing.
Let’s rewind a bit—to the very first words I ever heard in this world.
At the time, I barely understood the language.
Fresh out of my mother’s womb, my father’s words sounded something like this:
[? Rachel .]
If you looked at it in isolation, it would seem like a normal phrase.
Something like,
“Ah, you’re finally here?
Rachel, that’s your name.”
And so, for a long time, I thought my name was Rachel.
But it wasn’t.
My name was Ruina.
So what happened?
I figured it out later, after I learned the language properly.
And here it is—the shocking truth, now revealed to the world!
[Another damn girl? Rachel, you useless wench.]
Yeah.
That’s what he actually said.
Rachel wasn’t my name.
It was my mother’s.
And my father?
He never really welcomed me in the first place.
In an agricultural society, children were a source of labor.
And among them, sons were considered the most valuable.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault—biologically speaking, men had more physical strength.
So, from my father’s perspective, my birth was like…
Imagine pressing the “SCV” button in Starcraft—but instead of a worker unit, a useless flying Kakaru pops out.
A complete waste of resources.
Of course, my mother wasn’t to blame.
A baby’s gender is determined at random, after all.
It was just bad luck.
And besides, women in this era still helped with farming, household chores, and livestock management.
They weren’t useless.
If my parents had just sat down and talked things out, maybe they could have made peace.
But unfortunately for them, Dr. Oh Eunyoung didn’t exist in this world.
So our home remained a mess—until I turned ten.
But that wasn’t why I ran away.
Despite everything, my father never once hit me.
He wasn’t a kind man, but he never laid a hand on me.
Why?
Because even as a child, my beauty was undeniable.
That’s right.
I ran away because of my looks.
I wasn’t going to wait around until they sold me off to some noble family.
To be honest, I didn’t particularly care if I was sold somewhere.
As long as I could learn magic, I didn’t care where I ended up.
But noble households didn’t teach magic.
Even if I got lucky and learned a little, it would never be enough.
That was unacceptable.
So I ran.
And the result?
Pretty good, I’d say.
After all, I did end up learning magic.
“Now, hurry up and teach me already…!”
“You don’t have much talent, actually.”
“…Huh?”
“You’re not talented in magic.
You have aptitude, but there’s nothing here I’d call true talent.”
A week into training, Kelton said that to me.
Oh.
Uh.
That’s…
That’s a problem.