He hadn’t intended to go.

The Academy? To hell with it. There was no reason for him to attend some pathetic human school where humans taught each other laughable magic.

‘A school run by humans for humans. Worthless.’

Even if Aman spoke directly to his father, nothing would change.

Send his precious child to an Academy near the imperial palace? From what Lucas had seen, Count Sivier was not that kind of man.

He knew well that enemies would bare their fangs at the slightest slip, and he would never throw the child he had been blessed with straight into their den.

So Lucas had felt no hesitation in dismissing Aman’s words with a simple “Do as you like.”

‘Not to mention that blue-scaled lizard disgusts me.’

Even if his final life as a creature was tied down in this frail human shell, he had adjusted by now. He had set himself a goal, and that made this no different from any of his past amusements.

Though calling this “amusement” was far too generous—it was a harsh reality.

And so, ignoring Aman, Lucas sat in the garden, carefully tracing circles of mana within his body.

‘No. This is impossible.’

His body had begun with not a trace of mana. To reach the 5th circle was already an extraordinary feat for a human.

Something no ordinary human could achieve.

But he was not ordinary. He had lived five thousand years as a dragon at the pinnacle of magic—those memories would not fade easily.

That was why even this astonishing achievement of 5th circle left him dissatisfied.

Everyone had a vessel, after all. And this was his.

‘At this rate I’ll end up peddling magical trinkets on some street corner.’

Lucas let out a long sigh from his small lips and irritably kicked at a pebble.

“Ugh!”

What he thought was a pebble turned out to be a buried stone.

Pain lanced through his foot, sharp and bitter.

‘…?’

The sting of pain brought a sudden thought.

“…Human.”

This fragile body that could hurt so much from kicking a stone—it reminded him keenly that he was human now.

‘Who would know a human body best, if not humans? Then…’

With the idea forming, Lucas pulled himself up on his aching foot and hurried back toward the manor.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I said I’ll go. To that Academy.”

“Lucas, you don’t yet know anything. They only wish to see if you have talent.”

At his father’s worried voice, Lucas let out a sigh and raised his little hand.

—Fsshh!

“What—!”

A tiny flame flickered at Lucas’s fingertip, and Sivier stumbled back in shock.

“I want to go. To the Academy.”

Blaine clutched Lucas tightly, tears falling endlessly.

“Lucas… my baby…”

“My dear… he will be fine.”

“If anything should happen there, remember this, Lucas.”

Her trembling hands pressed a return scroll into his palm.

Even after seeing her son’s talent, Sivier had firmly refused to let Lucas go.

But Blaine’s words had swayed him.

“We cannot force our burdens onto the child.”

With tears in his eyes, Sivier himself packed Lucas’s belongings. He gathered supplies as he once had for his own days at the sword academy, and only after swallowing back tears again and again did he finish the pack—larger than Lucas’s small body.

After Lucas’s declaration, they spent three days in farewells. And in those days, Lucas felt something strange.

‘What is a child to these fleeting humans?’

That was the first question that rose in his mind.

There were countless parents in the world. Among them, plenty unworthy of the name.

Fathers who sold their daughters for drink, mothers who gambled away their sons as slaves, women who abandoned infants in alleyways before the cord had even fallen.

In his long years, Lucas had seen every face of humanity.

At first, he thought himself only the last fragile hope of a fallen noble house.

A child precious only because he was a light in their hardship.

But as time passed, that thought unraveled.

Even when told that a gifted child might raise their family up again, Sivier had fiercely opposed it, saying it could never be.

Yet at a single word from Blaine, his resolve had crumbled.

Seeing that, Lucas had felt a flicker of suspicion.

Perhaps this was the true face of humans after all—willing to risk their children for hope.

And that suspicion brought him a faint, bitter comfort.

But it didn’t last an hour.

As he passed a corridor, he heard his mother’s muffled sobs.

Her wretched cries, hidden away in a secluded corner of the rear garden where even the servants rarely went, tore at his chest.

Her broken voice, blaming herself over and over, made Lucas ashamed of his doubt.

In his palm lay a return scroll, and on his finger, a ring that had been his mother’s last heirloom.

The pale mark where it had once rested, stark against her skin, revealed just how long she had worn it.

Something swelled warm in Lucas’s heart.

‘Don’t worry, human mother. I’ll bring you a thousand more rings.’

With his small hand, Lucas stroked her back and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t worry… Mother.”

“Ahh… Lucas!”

The winding country road stretched on. Eventually, the carriage reached a town halfway to the capital.

At his side, the blue lizard babbled endlessly. Lucas answered with the occasional nod, cutting the flow wherever he could, but the creature seemed unable to stop his wagging tongue.

‘If only he’d shut up.’

As the carriage slowed, Lucas peered out the window.

“Oria Village.”

The small sign bore the name and the population count, showing it was a large town.

The bustling merchants, the crowds passing by, the inns clustered around the square with their loud welcomes—it was all plain to see.

When the carriage door opened, the coachman offered his hand to help him down—Lucas was still too small to manage alone.

—The Comfortable Inn—

The name on the sign made him snort.

‘Such genius naming sense.’

He had stayed in more inns than he could count in his days of amusement, but this time felt different.

Perhaps because it was his first time entering one in a human body.

Or perhaps because it was his first step away from home.

He couldn’t even mount or dismount the carriage on his own and had to rely on human hands.

He pressed his little hand to his brow, but even that lacked any dignity.

“Welcome~”

At the innkeeper’s jovial greeting, the blue lizard said something, and a room was quickly prepared.

“Young master, are you sure you’ll be all right alone?”

Aman asked again, worryingly suggesting an ten-year-old stay alone in a room, but Lucas simply nodded.

“What a brave young master. If you need anything, come to my room anytime.”

Aman patted his head, and Lucas nearly kicked him, restraining himself with superhuman patience; the corner of his mouth twitched.

Once inside his room, Lucas sighed in relief at finally being alone and flopped onto the bed.

‘You rude blue lizard! Wait a hundred years—I'll smash your head.’

He had been so angered by Aman’s earlier actions that he suddenly found himself looking forward to the day he would become a god.

If Oria Village marked the halfway point, then after riding as long again the carriage finally entered the capital.

Passing the checkpoint, he soon saw the imperial castle looming in the distance.

Not far from it stood a large building—the Magic Academy.

The Arant Magic Academy.

Rumors said the emperor had heard a prophet’s vision and had founded the academy to gather mages and talents from across the world and build a magical powerhouse.

The qualifications for admission were simple: age, nationality, and rank did not matter. They had built a firm system where no one would be discriminated against and where skill alone was the evaluation.

Perhaps for that reason, talented people from around the world had flocked like bees to support the emperor’s ambitions.

Because evaluation was by skill, classes were organized from basics to the highest-level courses regardless of age, nationality, or status.

A top-level certification from the Arant Magic Academy was a free pass anywhere.

Wealth and lavish followed; mages were invaluable to any nation, and the price of a skilled mage was whatever one asked.

But Lucas did not care about price.

If he wished to accumulate wealth, he could have done so already in his current state.

Though small in body, he had wisdom from his long years; a little cunning would make money flow in.

His sole goal was to learn how to view and expand his vessel from a human perspective.

“New students, gather this way!”

A loud voice, perhaps amplified by a magic projection, struck his ears.

Following that call, Lucas reached the central square of the academy.

Aman had offered to guide him, but Lucas declined politely and left only his luggage with him, coming to the square alone to look around.

There was not a single peer of his apparent age.

‘I must be the youngest human here.’

He had not wanted to stand out, but that hope had long since vanished—the gazes were already on him.

‘That’ll be tiring.’

The number of new students was not large—around thirty, by his count.

Mages being so rare, the academy had likely accepted anyone with a touch of talent.

Names were called one by one; students entered rooms to be tested and then returned. Before he knew it, it was his turn.

“Lucas Rodrigo!”

“Yes.”

He answered and raised his hand, and the looks directed at him shifted. People had already noticed the young Lucas, but this time something else notably changed.

Perhaps it was his family name, ‘Rodrigo.’

Fatigue washed over him and his small brow tightened.

‘I want to overthrow the lot of them.’

The test was simple. If one could demonstrate any skill, one showed it; if not, one placed a hand on a mana stone to measure whether there was mana in the body.

When it was his turn to enter the room, Lucas hesitated—should he show something, or simply place his hand on the mana stone and finish?

He decided, and raised his small hand.

—Fsshh!

“……?”

The examiners’ faces twisted in shock as they watched the light bloom from his tiny hand.

(End of Chapter)