The Next Morning
Before the town's first bell even rang, Gauss was already up, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a serious look on his face.
"Mage Hand!"
It was a zero-level cantrip he'd just learned—and honestly, he still sucked at it.
He'd been up for over half an hour now, and so far? Nothing but failure.
But whether it was from sheer repetition or a lucky break, something finally clicked.
After tons of failed attempts, Gauss suddenly managed to cast the spell.
And that moment? It was wild. Like he'd typed the perfect command into his mind, and suddenly his mana started flowing through the right paths, swirling together, releasing this strange magical wave. The energy surged out of him and then—bam!—right in front of him, an invisible, ghostly arm took shape.
He did it.
Sitting on the straw mattress, Gauss stared at the floating spectral hand, a grin creeping up on his face.
With a thought, he had it drift around the room.
The invisible arm floated over to a dagger on the table, grabbed it, and slowly lifted it into the air.
He felt a rush of excitement and a weird sense of pride bubbling up inside him.
He had actually cast a spell.
Real magic. The kind that only existed in movies and fantasy novels back in his old life.
The shock of that moment honestly hit just as hard as the day he first realized he'd been transported to another world.
Unfortunately, before he could play around with it more, the floating hand fizzled out and vanished with a soft pop.
Clunk! — the dagger dropped back onto the table.
Clearly, he needed more practice.
Mage Hand Lv1 (2/10)
Noticing the skill had leveled up a bit gave him a boost of motivation.
Seeing real progress made him want to train even harder. So, he locked in and didn't step outside his room the entire morning—just kept grinding the spell.
Most of the time, he failed.
Not surprising. If he succeeded every time, he wouldn't have lasted the whole morning anyway. His mana pool was still tiny—barely enough to support casting, even for a low-cost cantrip like this.
Still, the training paid off. Maybe it was thanks to his decent INT stat—he had 7 points, after all.
By the time it was almost noon, and just before his mana ran out, he could finally cast Mage Hand with some consistency.
Going from zero to casting-capable in half a day? Not bad. He had no other casters to compare himself to, so he had no clue if that was fast or slow. But he didn't care—he could use magic now, and that alone was enough to get hyped.
Slipping on his boots, his stomach growled loudly.
Yep—he was starving.
Thud thud thud—
His wooden boots creaked against the stairs as he walked down.
Sophia, who was wiping the counter, looked up when she heard someone coming. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise.
The guy coming down was lean, with black hair and bright emerald eyes that looked especially sharp today—way more energetic than usual.
It was Gauss. The hardworking guy who rented a room regularly and always seemed serious.
Something about him seemed different today.
Sophia watched him for a second but couldn't quite tell what had changed.
Did something happen to him? she wondered. It was weird to see him around at noon—he usually left before sunrise.
Still, she had a strict no-prying rule when it came to guests. Even though she was curious, she didn't say anything.
"Sophia, could I get some lunch? Actually, better make that two servings."
He wasn't a huge fan of the inn's food, but money was tight, so he had to deal.
And yeah, he was really hungry now.
Probably burning calories to restore all that mana he just spent.
"Two portions? Perfect timing—we're almost out of lunch. I'll bring you the rest of what's left. The extra's on the house."
"Thanks. I really appreciate it."
Sophia waved him off like it was no big deal and headed into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came back out carrying a tray.
Lunch was oatmeal porridge, stewed beans, and pickled beets.
Honestly? After yesterday's brick-hard black bread that had literal wood shavings in it, this meal felt like fine dining.
The beets were cold-pickled in a tangy sauce that gave them a refreshing, fruity kick.
…
Over the next few days, Gauss stuck close to the town, cycling between casting Mage Hand and practicing with weapons once his mana ran out.
His spell proficiency shot up fast.
Mage Hand Lv2 (10/20)
Seeing that level on his stats screen, Gauss nodded in satisfaction.
A few days of effort had pushed the spell to mid-level 2.
Actually, he'd hit Lv2 on the first day. But after that, the gains slowed down. Repetitive practice only got him so far. Grinding all the way to 10/20 had taken a few days.
Maybe I need real combat to level it up faster? he wondered.
He started walking toward town.
At Lv2, he could now control the spell pretty effortlessly.
Case in point—his gear bag was floating beside him, being carried by Mage Hand like it was on autopilot.
In addition to getting better at the spell, his mana reserves had clearly increased. If before his mana felt like tiny threads, now it felt more like a solid rope.
Of course, that's just a way to describe it. Mana wasn't a physical thing—it wasn't gas or liquid—it was intangible, invisible energy.
Besides the mana stored in his body, the world itself was brimming with magical energy. It was everywhere—like ley lines buried deep in the ground.
From what he could feel, casting a spell was like triggering a magical reaction: using your own mana and the spell etched into your will to reshape that ambient energy and manifest it in a specific form at a specific location.
How strong a spell was depended on how much mana you had, how good your control was, and the type of spell you were using.
Mage Hand, being a zero-ring cantrip, barely used any mana.
Its range was about 10 meters. Any farther, and the spell would unravel.
It wasn't a combat spell. More of a utility tool.
You could use it to unlock doors from the other side, steal stuff without being noticed, things like that.
Still, Gauss had been thinking about how to use it in a fight.
Like, you could throw someone off balance with a 10-pound nudge. Or maybe float a dagger above their head and drop it when they weren't expecting it—let gravity do the work.
Sure, the damage would probably be low, and it only worked if the enemy was totally unaware. But still—it had potential.
Even in a real fight, clever use of Mage Hand could make a huge difference.
Tripping someone, pushing or pulling at the right time—those little disruptions could be deadly. Fights weren't always about trading blows. Sometimes, one perfect move decides everything.