The Last Place Hero’s Return - Chapter 102

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 102. The Ryu Family’s Rascal (3)
Thus began three days of intensive crash-course magic training.
Rising early each morning, Berald and I gathered at the Training Ground, warmed up lightly, and dove straight into magical practice.
“Alright, before we start, let me assess your current magical level.”
“Well, as you know, I’m utterly hopeless when it comes to magic….”
“Still, you must have been learning it since childhood.”
Even as a branch family member, being part of the Ryu Family Estate meant I would have started learning magic from the moment I could walk.
I stood before Berald with my arms crossed.
“First, how many spells have you mastered so far?”
“Theoretically, I know quite a few spells. The problem is I can’t actually manifest any of them properly.”
“Hmm… then try creating a mana sphere.”
A mana sphere.
Magic that conjures a physical sphere of force in empty space—the most fundamental of dozens, even hundreds of spells.
“Understood.”
Berald nodded and concentrated his focus.
His stigma blazed with light as an enormous surge of mana whirled around us.
“Hnngh. Hah!”
Berald thrust his hand forward with a resonant shout.
Before his outstretched palm, a translucent sphere materialized.
The most basic of basics.
A mana sphere—something even first-year Candidate Program students in the Magic Department could conjure effortlessly.
“…This is a mana sphere?”
I stared at the translucent sphere, no larger than two finger joints, with an expression of utter disbelief.
The mana had poured out recklessly as if summoning hellfire itself, yet the actual result was pathetically underwhelming.
“Ahem. Well, I did say I wasn’t confident with magic.”
Berald cleared his throat awkwardly and averted his gaze, embarrassed by his own handiwork.
“Hmm.”
I grasped the mana sphere Berald had created.
‘Not just the size—the density is pathetic too.’
It felt like touching soft, flabby dough.
“Now try firing the mana sphere.”
“Firing it?”
“Shoot it like an arrow.”
I pointed toward the Training Ground wall as I spoke.
“That….”
Berald’s expression grew troubled upon hearing my words.
“What? Why that face?”
“I-I apologize, but I… I don’t know how to move a mana sphere.”
“….”
In other words.
All I could do was create mana bullets in midair.
Even then, the finished product was pathetically crude compared to the mana poured into it.
‘Good grief.’
In that moment, I could finally understand, at least a little, why Laios had dismissed Berald so thoroughly.
“I, I told you I wasn’t confident in magic!”
Berald cried out in a pitiful voice.
“….”
I narrowed my eyes as I gazed at the mana bullet Berald had created.
The Great Sage Julius Bastian had once said something about magic.
‘Learning magic is the same as drawing pictures or singing songs,’ he had said.
In simple terms, it meant that magic relied heavily on what people called ‘talent.’
‘But no matter how talentless someone is at magic, does this even make sense?’
As the old saying of the Republic went, even a dog at a village school could recite poetry after three years.
No matter how lacking in magical talent one was, with diligent effort, their abilities should improve, even if only by an ant’s worth.
Even I, who had heard countless times that I lacked talent, had grown to where I was now by grinding away at it over time.
‘But Berald’s abilities haven’t improved at all.’
Having studied magic for at least fifteen years or more, yet unable to properly use even a single mana bullet—that was definitely a problem.
‘It’s not as if Berald would have neglected his magical training given his personality.’
Even so, the fact that he couldn’t properly use a single mana bullet meant….
“Hmm.”
I regarded Berald with suspicion.
‘There seems to be another cause to this.’
No matter how I thought about it, reaching this level after learning magic for so long simply didn’t make common sense.
‘Now that I think about it, in my previous life, Berald learned some form of martial art and suffered aftereffects that completely prevented him from using magic.’
Perhaps Berald had been unable to use magic due to some external factor even before learning that martial art.
‘Maybe he was cursed when he was young.’
After all, in heroic tales, didn’t the protagonist often fall victim to some conspiracy and have their exceptional talents forcibly sealed away?
A family like the Ryu Family, which wielded considerable power within the Republic, wouldn’t be unusual in harboring such a sinister plot.
‘Or perhaps he was poisoned?’
There did exist toxic plants that could prevent the manifestation of magic itself.
Even I, who had wandered the Continent for thousands of years, had rarely encountered them, but the Ryu Family, with their long history regarding magic, had a good chance of possessing such a thing.
‘But then again, he did manage to create a mana bullet.’
I swallowed hard as I looked at the mana bullet floating in midair.
The manifestation of magic itself was possible, but it couldn’t move.
“…Could it be.”
A single possibility struck my mind like lightning.
I turned back to Berald and spoke.
“Then, this time, try using a higher-tier spell.”
“…Didn’t you just see that I can’t even properly create a mana bullet?”
He couldn’t even properly create a mana bullet, yet I was asking him to try a higher-tier spell?
Berald turned to me with an expression of disbelief.
“Since you already know, just try casting it. I want to see what the problem is.”
“Ugh. Understood.”
Berald swallowed hard and nodded.
“What spell should I use?”
“Hmm… You know Fireball, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then try casting that.”
If Mana Bullet was considered a Level 1 spell, Fireball would be roughly Level 3 in difficulty.
“Huff.”
Berald closed his eyes and concentrated.
Once again, his stigma blazed with light as a tremendous surge of mana whipped around us.
‘His mana capacity is absolutely staggering.’
Of course, compared to Yurina it fell short, but that was because Yurina possessed an abnormally excessive amount of mana—not because Berald was lacking.
In terms of pure mana quantity alone, he likely had more than most Candidates, and even more than some professors.
‘The problem is that despite pouring in this much mana, the results are pathetic.’
What good was having fuel overflowing in abundance if the efficiency was abysmal?
“Haaah!”
Whoosh!
A roaring shout accompanied by blazing flames.
A fireball slightly smaller than a fist took shape.
“Ugh…”
Berald broke into a cold sweat as he tried to move the fireball.
Psssht.
The precariously wavering fireball vanished with a deflating sound.
“…Ah.”
Berald let out a low sigh and his expression grew dejected.
I observed the entire process calmly, lost in thought.
‘The manifestation itself succeeded this time too.’
But the moment he tried to move the created fireball, it wavered dangerously before disappearing entirely.
‘He succeeded in manifestation but failed in control…’
Magic could be broadly divided into three processes.
1. The ’emission’ process—channeling mana from within the body to the external world.
2. The ‘manifestation’ process—transforming emitted mana into magic through formulas.
3. The ‘control’ process—moving the created magic according to one’s will.
In Berald’s case, the ’emission’ process presented no problems whatsoever.
‘If anything, he’s releasing far too much, which is concerning.’
In other words.
The fuel itself for casting magic was abundant and overflowing.
‘While the quality is lacking, manifestation is at least possible.’
I had managed to create both mana bullets and fireballs.
‘Magic formulas are essentially a matter of memorization.’
In my past life, Sophia had once said that “perfect theory is the essence of magic.”
The perfect theory she referred to was precisely the formula needed to manifest magic.
‘Creating and transforming formulas anew is difficult unless you’re a true genius.’
But manifesting magic by memorizing an already-established formula in its entirety was something anyone could achieve with enough effort.
‘Of course, that only applies to low-level magic like mana bullets or fireballs.’
As the difficulty of magic increased, such crude methods became impossible to manifest.
If I were to compare Berald’s current method of manifesting magic to arithmetic, it would be like memorizing the result “25” without understanding why “5×5” equals 25 at all.
‘Actually, the mana bullet had better completion than the fireball.’
This was probably because the mana bullet’s formula itself wasn’t particularly complex.
‘But once we get to the control process, things become different.’
While he had somehow succeeded in manifesting the spell by memorizing it wholesale, the “control” process of moving the created magic necessarily required calculation.
Berald was completely unable to perform the calculations necessary to control this magic.
“…Which means.”
As the hypothesis forming in my mind gradually became reality, I felt my expression harden.
“Uh, um, brother? Did you figure out what’s wrong with my magic?”
Berald swallowed hard and leaned in closer.
I could see his clenched fists trembling slightly.
‘No, that can’t be it!’
I shut my eyes tightly and denied the hypothesis that had surfaced in my mind.
“Berald, aren’t you getting a bit hungry?”
“Oh, now that you mention it, it’s already gotten this late.”
I pulled out bread I had bought from the Convenience Store on the way here from my bag.
He must have been quite hungry.
As I took out the bread, Berald’s eyes sparkled like stars.
“Want to split it fifty-fifty?”
“Hmm….”
Berald’s expression grew serious.
Continuing his deliberation, he asked in a deadly earnest voice.
“Then who’s the five?”
“…Ah.”
The moment suspicion became certainty.
A deep sigh escaped from between my lips.
I collapsed right there and tore at my hair.
‘So the reason Berald couldn’t use magic no matter how hard he tried….’
It wasn’t a curse he had received in childhood.
It wasn’t poison that had made him addicted and blocked the manifestation of magic.
The reason Berald, despite his blood-soaked efforts, couldn’t properly use even a single mana bullet was just one thing.
“You absolute… thick-headed bastard….”
Without any external factors.
Without any outside interference whatsoever.
To a degree that couldn’t be overcome even with decades of effort.
It was simply and purely because he was intellectually deficient.
“When you’re like this, what exactly do you expect me to do…?”
Teach magic to someone like this?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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