Chapter 15 - Lessons
"So, Mom, what are we learning today?" I asked, leaning forward with interest.
It's been a few days already since the Kelsey incident, and our grounded sentences have been fulfilled, but Mom's lessons are mandatory.
Reyna closed her book with a gentle smile. "You two have finished simple math, so I think it's time we move on to something else."
I perked up in my seat, while Lyra groaned and let her head drop dramatically onto the table.
"We'll be learning history today."
"Ugh, history is so boring," Lyra whined into the wood.
To be fair, I kind of agreed with her. Back in my old life, I wasn't exactly a history buff either. But in this world, after seven years of being here, I realized how little I actually knew. Not just about this country, but the entire planet. So yeah, for once, I was genuinely curious.
Reyna opened a large map and laid it out on the table. It was just wide enough for the both of us to see.
"We live in a village called Ytval," she explained, pointing at a small dot near the edge of a green blotch. "It's still within the borders of the Kingdom of Template."
"Template..?" I muttered. The name "Template" still caught me off guard. What kind of kingdom is called that? It sounded like someone forgot to name it during world creation. But, heh, I kept that to myself.
"There are six major kingdoms," she continued. "Template, Varellos, Zintar, Querradia, Polis, and Ganghum."
Huh. Some of those names sounded like fantasy novel leftovers, but they were definitely unique. Our village was apparently close to the border with Zintar. We were way out in the countryside, which explained how other species could occasionally cross over through migration, assuming they had the proper paperwork. Kinda like immigration in my previous world, I guess.
"There are two continents," Reyna went on. "The Light Continent and the Demon Continent."
She pointed to the larger landmass first. "The Light Continent holds Template, Varellos, and Ganghum. The Demon Continent holds Zintar, Polis, and Querradia."
The naming was a bit on the nose, but Reyna explained the reason clearly. The Light Continent had milder weather, tamer landscapes, and generally more stable governments. The Demon Continent, on the other hand, was rough. Harsh terrain, monster-infested swamps, endless deserts filled with nothing but jagged rock and burning sand. Even the sea surrounding it was full of monstrous sea creatures that might eat you whole.
Still, Reyna mentioned that some of the best exotic foods and materials came from the Demon Continent. If you want your armor to be one of the toughest, you get those materials in Demon Continent. The people who lived there were said to be tougher, stronger, and more resilient than most.
Trolls and goblins, apparently, still existed here. In my old world, those species had either gone extinct or were wiped out during historical purges. Here, they were considered magical beasts, hunted like any other dangerous creature. Although Reyna's description of goblins made them sound more like a societal plague than monsters; disgusting, aggressive, and too dumb to understand other languages, yet smart enough to form small tribal communities. She said they were depraved. I didn't ask for more details.
Then she moved on to a war that had happened long ago.
"It's said that 1,200 years ago, the Demon Emperor Argoth tried to conquer the world," Reyna stated.
I raised a brow. Twelve hundred years ago? That's practically forgotten history. She confirmed that most people today barely cared about it. Peace had lasted for so long, the war had become more myth than memory, that's an exaggeration but you get the point.
"Some individuals in this world possess power far beyond the norm," she continued. "They're called the Calamity Forces. So far, there are only eight of them who possess that title."
I leaned forward as Reyna listed the current Calamity Forces.
"There's the Arch-Paladin,"
"Thorskil," she said plainly, not bothering to elaborate.
I blinked again. She really just dropped that in there like she was naming the village blacksmith.
"Then there's Saira, the other Sword God." she continued smoothly. "The reigning Demon Emperor, Dramon. The Beast Emperor, Keltre. Zombra, globally recognized as the Wizard God. Kobalt, a legendary Darkon sorcerer. And lastly, Xero, the most magically potent elf currently alive."
So, the absolute ruler of the Demon Continent was on the list. As were the twin anomalies holding the title of Sword God.
Sword God? That meant Dad.
Thorskil Samsworth. My humble, garden tending, occasionally embarrassing father was apparently considered one of the eight strongest people in the world.
I blinked. That man? Really?
I glanced over at the map again. It suddenly felt a lot smaller.
According to Mother, Argoth, the historical Demon Emperor, had been an absolute master of combat magic, capable of systematically erasing entire legions from the map utilizing a high-tier methodology called Wordless Casting. His ultimate neutralization was only achieved when four separate Calamity Forces formed an unprecedented coalition, engaging him in a devastating four-versus-one attrition battle. Even then, the statistical probability of their victory had been razor-thin. The remaining three Calamity Forces of that era had simply refused to mobilize, seeing as their personal territories weren't being directly impacted by the conquest.
It was a terrifying, volatile manifestation of global balance. World-ending anomalies who only chose to alter history when they were personally annoyed.
And my dorky, carrot-cake-baking father was one of them. I tried to mentally superimpose his image onto the grand tapestry of world-shaping titans. My brain completely rejected the idea. He still just looked like a guy who got overly excited about crops.
But as my internal processor slowly cataloged the names Mother had just dropped, a specific title snagged on my thoughts.
Wait... didn't Mother also mention a Wizard God?
In a world where actual, world-shaping deities had literally bled mana into the earth during a thousand-year civil war, appending the word "God" to a mortal's title wasn't just hyperbole. It was a terrifying semantic statement.
I raised my hand, interrupting the smooth flow of the geography lesson.
"What about the Wizard God, Mom?" I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet room. "Can you tell us more about that? Like the hierarchy of titles of mages?"
Reyna hummed, leaning back slightly as she smoothed out a stray wrinkle on the ancient cartography. "Well, magic users have a very strict hierarchy of titles, Kyro. It actually closely mirrors the structure of the Sword Martial Titles your father occasionally trains under."
She tapped her fingers rhythmically against the heavy wood, counting them off.
"The foundational tiers are fairly straightforward: you begin as a Magic Novice, progress to Intermediate Magic, advance to Advanced Magic, and eventually reach Expert Magic. For the vast majority of mages in the world, Expert is the absolute ceiling of their body's capability."
Mother's expression grew significantly more serious as she leaned forward, her emerald eyes locking onto ours.
"But once an individual breaks past standard human limitations, they enter the high-hazard tiers of mastery. First comes the Wizard Saint, followed by the Wizard King, then the Wizard Emperor... and finally, at the absolute apex of magical realization, sits the Wizard God."
I absorbed the data, my analytical mind instantly mapping out the power scaling. Classic tier-list progression, I mused. But if it scales anything like modern RPG metrics, the gap between an Emperor and a God must be an absolute ocean.
"To put it into geographical perspective," Reyna added softly, "the Kingdom of Template employs hundreds of Advanced mages in the royal military. We have maybe more than twenty of Wizard Kings across the entire Kingdom, and two to three Magic Emperors per Kingdom. But a Wizard God? There is only ever one in a generation. Zombra holds that title because his raw mana capacity is just that high. He could also cast God-tier magic, like splitting the entire mountain apart without breaking a sweat or showing any kinds of fatigue."
Beside me, I could practically hear the gears in Lyra's brain violently grinding to a halt. The dry, boring historical timeline she had been dreading had just transformed into a literal list of epic boss titles. Saint. King. Emperor. God.
It was the ultimate fuel for her hyperactive imagination.
"Woaaah! I take it back, history's pretty cool!" Lyra beamed, bouncing in her seat. "I wanna become a Calamity Force too!"
"Maybe someday, sweetie," Reyna said with a soft chuckle.
I glanced at her, noticing the small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. That sly look.
Huh. I think I get it now.She led with the exciting stuff on purpose, didn't she? To hook Lyra. Smart one, Mom. If she'd started with dry facts and geography, Lyra would've been asleep by now. But now?
I turned back to Lyra, Now she looked like she was ready to eat the whole textbook.
I hummed, turning to my table. Clever. But also... suspicious. If she spewed out all the interesting bits first, what would be left? Boring old timelines and treaties? Or maybe... there was more. A lot more she hadn't said yet.
"Alright," Reyna said, flipping the map over and revealing a folded parchment beneath it. Her fingers smoothed it with care, like someone about to open a forgotten relic. "Since you're both so interested, how about we go back a little? To the beginning."
Lyra blinked. "The beginning of what?"
"The Age of Chaos," she replied, her voice dropping ever so slightly, like a storyteller preparing to spin a tale around a campfire.
Lyra tilted her head. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It was a time before kingdoms, before order. Back when the world was divided into wild clans and broken city-states. Before kings wore crowns or armies had uniforms. The land had no names. The borders were drawn with blood. It was, in every sense of the word... chaos."
She paused there, just long enough for the silence to sink in.
Honestly, I was a little impressed. She knew exactly how to pace it, like how to make us listen. I wasn't just sitting in on a lesson anymore. It felt like I was in it.
Reyna's fingers traced a circular symbol on the parchment. "The gods came first. Where they came from, no one knows. A realm above our own, perhaps. A higher dimension. But they were born as siblings, a divine family of clashing wills and temperaments."
She pointed to the symbol at the center. "The first to act was the God of Nature. She laid the foundation. The earth, trees, mountains, and rivers. From her hands, the Elves were born. They didn't need to breathe or eat. They simply were; beings of eternal stillness."
"What are you talking about?" Lyra asked with genuine curiousity.
"I'm saying that Elves used to be immortals, now they could only live around 400-500 years. And of course, they need to eat, sleep and breath like us unlike before."
"Okay, but how did that happen?" I asked, curious. "Like they went from being self-sustaining immortals to becoming, well, lesser version of them. How did that happen?"
"Honestly, I do not know how," she sighed. "This information came from one of the oldest recorded books written by an elf. Sorry, Kyro, I may be your teacher, but I do not have all the answers. It's a miracle that we even have this confirmed history."
I nodded, "I understand."
Man, were elves really like that? That's pretty cool. I wish I was reborn as an elf, forty seven years felt like a blink of an eye.
"Then came the Wind God," she continued. "She gave the world air, movement, weather. She made the Skyfolk, winged beings who lived above the clouds, and imbued all creatures with free will."
"So the first breath and the first choice.. Or something like that?" I spoke out loud.
"Mmm, yes." Reyna cleared her throat, she turned the parchment, now showing a sketch of a dragon coiled around a mountaintop.
"The Flame God admired his sister's work, and so he made his own creations. The Darkons. The first beastkin, humanoids who bore the traits of dragons, and the dragons themselves, majestic and terrible. Creatures of strength and power, untamed and wild."
Dragons and Darkons shared a creator. That made them cousins, in a way.
"Then the Shield God looked at what the God of Nature had made and shaped his own race: humans. We were fragile compared to others, but capable of growth. Our gift was adaptability, and aura."
And then her tone shifted slightly.
"But the most creative of them all was the Demon God," she said, tapping a curved line filled with branching marks. "He didn't copy anyone. Instead, he experimented. He gave life to countless unique forms. Beastfolk, demons, dwarves, minotaurs, and monsters beyond count. Where others sought balance, he sought variety."
I glanced at Lyra. Her eyes were glued to the parchment now, hands clenched in her lap. That trick Reyna pulled earlier? It was working.
"The eldest of them all," Reyna went on, "was the Lightning God. And unlike the others, he simply... watched. For eons, he stayed silent. Unmoved. Until something about the world finally stirred his curiosity."
Her voice dropped even lower. "He didn't want to create, but wanted attention and worshippers."
And there it is, the first god with an ego.
Lyra's eyebrows shot up.
"The God of Blades noticed this and so he descended as well, not to destroy, but to instruct. He gave the world swordsmanship and he taught mortals how to fight."
So that's where sword techniques came from in this world. Just like father mentioned.
"The other gods were horrified. They had created life to live in peace, but their older brothers had tainted it with blood and violence. What followed was a divine confrontation. The younger gods challenged their elder brothers, and the result was a war that lasted a thousand years."
Reyna's voice slowed. "The scale of that battle is hard to describe. Every strike between gods shattered mountains and boiled oceans, they tore holes in the sky, and the energy they released, what we now call mana, filled the air for generations."
Wait... so mana isn't just nature's energy? I've always thought it was, but it's really the leftover power, traces of a war between gods. That's... really fascinating.
"That mana has never left the world," Reyna continued. "It soaked into the land and changed it forever. The people who lived through that time absorbed it. And so, mages were born. Not as chosen ones, but as survivors of divine fallout."
My eyes widened as the pieces fell into place.
"In the end," Reyna went on, "only two gods remained standing: Lightning and Blade. The others followed their lead, and some of them vanished, not wanting to follow either of them. Religions rose to worship them. Their influence shaped the world."
"Wooooah," Lyra whispered.
That wasn't what I expected from a history lesson. I came in expecting names and dates. Instead, we got divine civil war.
"So..." Lyra said, trying to make sense of it, "The gods made all the races, then they started fighting, and now we have magic because of that?"
"Exactly," Reyna said with a gentle smile. "History isn't just facts, but are also stories. And when you understand the beginning, everything else starts to make sense."
Just then, a familiar voice called out from downstairs, warm and inviting.
"Everyone! I baked carrot cake! Who wants some?"
Lyra and I immediately locked eyes then we both said in unison.
"Papa's carrot cake?!"
"Dad's carrot cake?!"
We bolted for the door like it was a matter of life and death.
"Hey! Class isn't over yet!" Reyna called after us.
"Yes it is!" Lyra shouted gleefully as we hit the stairs.
"Sorry, Mom!" I added, barely turning my head as we dashed down.
Reyna stood by the hallway, arms crossed but smiling faintly. Her sigh was soft, almost amused.
"History can wait," she murmured to herself. "But carrot cake? Apparently not."
[End]