Whoosh

A red-haired girl raised her hand into the air, focusing her mind for a brief moment. A ball of flames appeared, flickering into existence.

With her eyes closed, she snapped her fingers, and the fiery sphere followed her gesture as if it were alive, moving through the air before crashing into the wall with a loud bang and disappearing.

The sturdy walls, specially designed for magical training and resistant to most impacts, now bore a scorched mark and a slight dent where the fireball had struck.

“I did it!”

A voice of excitement escaped the red-haired girl, Xenia. Not only had she cast magic without a chant, but she had also controlled it—a feat beyond her previous capabilities.

Xenia had used primitive magic without incantations before, but what she had done now was on a completely different level.

Previously, her magic had been brute-forced through sheer excess of mana, making it inefficient. Even with the mana of a Dragonoid, a hybrid of dragon and human, it had left her exhausted after just a few spells.

Her teacher, Eustaph, had once compared her wastefulness to hunting goblins with a legendary weapon like a Dragon Slayer.

However, under Eustaph’s guidance, Xenia rapidly improved, mastering more efficient ways to use magic and mana.

Recently, though, she found great inspiration in a book.

It was Ironblood Alchemist, and in it, the character Lloyd Cavallo, the Flame Alchemist, stood out to her.

He wielded his power by snapping his fingers, using friction to create fire, becoming the most formidable alchemist in the story.

Watching Cavallo manipulate oxygen and hydrogen from the dust in the air to ignite flames, Xenia had a revelation.

Her old methods of magic were primitive in comparison. Even the spells Eustaph taught her, while more advanced, still had inefficiencies.

‘It’s not about creating fire. It’s about controlling the elements that make fire.’

Instead of manifesting flames directly, which remained inefficient no matter how refined the spell, manipulating the elements that fuel fire was much simpler and more effective.

‘I need to get stronger!’

Xenia knew that with this discovery, even her master Eustaph and everyone else would shower her with praise.

But that wasn’t enough for her.

"You're not ready to join this investigation yet."

Xenia had heard of the dangers Rupert Somerset, the creator of the fairytales that had saved her, was facing from dark wizards. She desperately wanted to join the investigation to help him, but Eustaph had told her she wasn’t ready.

Being told she was still too young, too weak, too lacking, felt like a deep wound in her chest.

‘He saved me, and yet I can’t do anything to help him…’

She remembered the uncle and aunt who had tormented her daily, the villagers and children who mocked and discriminated against her for being an orphan.

There had been a time when Xenia had wanted to burn them all down. She had felt that it was unjust for her to suffer so much while they lived comfortably.

But Rupert's fairytales had been a beacon of hope for her. The stories he wrote featured protagonists in dire situations, just like her, who eventually found happiness.

Because of those stories, Xenia had dared to hope. She began dreaming of one day standing proudly before those who had scorned her, rescuing them, and showing them her worth.

And more than that—

‘He remembers me, I’m sure of it.’

Though her encounter with Rupert at the Somerset estate had been brief, Xenia was certain he remembered her.

Reading A Dog of Flanders afterward had confirmed it. The protagonist, Nero, though a boy, had a face and red hair just like hers.

‘Did I really look like a boy to him?’

She felt a little disappointed at being mistaken for a boy, but the joy of knowing that she had been the inspiration for one of his stories overshadowed any resentment.

Since A Dog of Flanders had been published, people no longer feared children with red hair. Instead, they often received unearned kindness from strangers.

Xenia was eternally grateful to Eustaph, who had taken her in and treated her better than most nobles.

But Rupert held a special place in her heart. He had been the first to shine a light into her darkness, the first to give her hope.

If not for Rupert, she wouldn’t have met her master, and she wouldn’t have the happiness she had now.

‘This time, I’ll become stronger and protect you.’

The memory of Rupert’s pale face surfaced in her mind, and Xenia renewed her resolve.

A woman quietly polished the inscription on a tombstone in a mausoleum, using a dry cloth with great care.

Standing reverently behind her was an elderly man.

“Your Highness, do you remember that today marks the death anniversary of the late Empress?”

“Of course. She was my brothers’ mother and my father’s wife.”

Aythan was deeply moved by Princess Eolin’s words.

Lately, the princess had occasionally shown signs of carelessness, but at her core, she was a person of noble character.

Aythan had once confiscated the princess’s collection of books, which had been a bold move. Even as her personal steward, taking such action risked severe punishment if it displeased a royal.

Yet, he had faced no repercussions. The princess had understood his actions were for her own good and had not held it against him.

Furthermore, it was not a simple gesture to visit the mausoleum of the late Empress, a woman with whom the princess had no personal connection, year after year on the anniversary of her passing. It was something Aythan found deeply admirable.

In the morning, when the princess had mentioned she had somewhere to go early, Aythan had felt a twinge of suspicion, wondering if she was up to something mischievous again. Now, he felt ashamed of his doubts.

“That’s enough cleaning for today,” said Eolin.

“May I ask something, Your Highness?” Aythan inquired.

“What is it?”

“There’s no direct connection between you and the late Empress. Why do you come here every year to clean so diligently?”

Aythan had always been curious but had never dared to ask before.

Princess Eolin was momentarily surprised by the question, but she soon composed herself and answered calmly.

“Every year, my father finishes his duties and visits this place. My eldest brother often forgets the date or confuses it and visits a day or two late.”

Aythan was shocked by her response. How could she know such things?

“My second brother always arrives before me, but he prefers to visit quietly without drawing attention.”

—The late Empress must have been a good person, to be so loved. I just want her to be in a clean place when her family comes to see her.

Hearing these words, Aythan fell into deep thought.

The late Empress had been just as kind and virtuous as Eolin described. She had been a gentle figure, which was perhaps why the Crown Prince had strayed so far from that path after her passing.

The Crown Prince’s father, the Emperor, was far from a kind man. The absence of his warm-hearted mother had likely left a void too great to fill.

The mausoleum, hidden and known only to a select few for security reasons, was barely maintained, with only minimal upkeep.

The mausoleums of past Emperors, protected by the highest levels of security, were meticulously maintained daily, but those of Empresses and other royals often fell into neglect.

For Princess Eolin to come here each year and clean the place for her family’s future visits—it was an act of deep care.

“Let’s return, Aythan.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Aythan decided that once they returned to the palace, he would return the books he had confiscated from her.

He realized he had been short-sighted. The princess might have shown a few moments of weakness, but she was still the wise and virtuous person he had always known her to be.

How could he have doubted someone who would never allow herself to be swayed by such trivial things?

But Aythan hadn’t heard her inner thoughts:

Father will be feeling melancholic today. I’ll ask about the key to the vault tomorrow.

She still had some growing to do when it came to self-restraint.

In a village in the Empire, a young boy named Charles woke up early in the morning.

“Ah! Today’s the day! Volume 5 of Ironblood Alchemist is coming out!”

Charles jumped out of bed and rushed to the kitchen, where his mother was cooking.

“Mom, did volume 5 of Ironblood Alchemist come out today?!”

“No, don’t be silly. Didn’t you read the last update? It’s been delayed.”

“You’re lying! It’s definitely out today! Where’s Dad?”

Convinced that the new volume should have been released by now, Charles refused to believe it had been delayed. He searched for his father, hoping he would know the truth, as his father was also a fan of the series.

But instead of finding his father ready with answers—

Thud!

He saw him collapsed on the floor, hammer in hand.

“Once I wake up... volume 5 of Ironblood Alchemist will be out...” his father mumbled, foaming at the mouth.

Charles hurried to pick up the hammer from his father’s hand.

His mother, watching this scene unfold, spoke in a calm but firm voice.

“Stop messing around and eat your breakfast.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Both the collapsed father and the son, who had been about to strike, replied in unison, preserving the peace of their household.

Once a person’s expectations are raised, it’s hard to bring them back down. After experiencing the thrilling story of Ironblood Alchemist, the people of the Empire were eagerly awaiting the release of volume 5 as if they were addicted.

After learning that the author had fallen ill and the release was delayed, the Somerset estate had been flooded with gifts.

From common herbs used in folk remedies to rare and expensive medicinal ingredients and potions, the deliveries had come from all over, some even from nobles who wished to remain anonymous.

“This smells of the royal family!”

Having survived so many close calls, Rupert had developed a sharp sense of deduction. The moment he saw one of the delivery boxes, he was startled and shouted out in alarm.

Indeed, the box had come from the royal family—specifically from the princess. Jorge, one of the royal family’s undercover guards disguised as a courier, almost let his shock show on his face when Rupert recognized the sender.

Across the Empire, the people waited for the new volume, and then, suddenly—

The Yuren Merchant Guild posted an announcement at all their branches simultaneously:

Volumes 5 and 6 of Ironblood Alchemist to be released together.

A week later, the world would enter the era of the great manga explosion.