Infinite Mage - Remake

Under the tutelage of the renowned pianist Merhen, Reina’s skills had sharpened to an extraordinary degree. Her fingers danced across the piano keys with blinding speed, each note precise enough to detect even the subtlest shifts in air pressure—a testament to her mastery of the schema.

The royal family themselves had praised Reina’s performances.

But to Rian, who had endured that sound since childhood, it was nothing short of torture.

Rian gritted his teeth. "Damn it, the witch is getting stronger. How do people not drop dead listening to this?"

Reina, lost in her music, didn’t react. Her lower lip jutted out in concentration, her frizzy hair and watery eyes betraying an all-night practice session. Dressed only in shorts, her bare thighs pressed against the piano bench as her fingers flew.

Seventeen hours.

That was how long she’d been wrestling with "Requiem of the Fallen", a notoriously difficult funeral piece. For artists, such struggles were both a curse and a blessing—a sign that a breakthrough was near.

And Reina? She’d tear through that barrier, even if it took days.

Rian, however, saw an opportunity.

If I sneak into her room now, grab my stuff, and bolt—either through the window or by smashing a wall—I’m free.

He exhaled slowly. "Okay, stay calm. I’m going home."

Moving like a shadow, Rian edged along the grand piano’s blind spot. If he could just reach the stairs unnoticed, this would be his greatest escape yet.

But Reina sat directly in his path.

Just as hope flickered in Rian’s eyes—

Clang!

Her hands slammed onto the keys, cutting the melody short.

Rian froze. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me—"

Reina didn’t even turn. "What are you doing? Did that swordsmanship school teach you how to be a clown?"

Rian scowled. "If you saw me, why pretend you didn’t? And what’s with the outfit? Since when do grown women play piano in their underwear? You call this ‘art’?"

Reina smirked. "Black again. I knew you’d peek."

Despite her sharp tone, she yanked her skirt back on. Only family knew about her habit of shedding clothes mid-practice when stress peaked.

Rian snorted. "Heh. Guess you’re still shy around your big bro— WHAM!

Her foot connected with his face before he could blink.

"Gah! What the hell?!" Rian clutched his nose, staggering back.

Reina extended her hand, palm up. "Hand it over. The report card."

Rian’s blood ran cold.

Of course. It was inevitable.

"W-Why do you even care? I’m an adult now— OW!

She twisted his ear. "Do you want to die today?"

"Fine! Here!" He flung the crumpled report card at her and bolted for his room.

Reina uncrumpled the paper, scanning the rankings—and her grip tightened.

Last place.

Not second-to-last. Dead last.

"This… can’t be real."

She flipped to the instructor’s notes—and her breath hitched.

"We regret to inform you that Rian has failed to manifest a functional schema. His perceived ‘strength’ is purely muscular—a rare condition termed ‘Imaginary Schema.’ Familial support is advised during this difficult time."

Reina’s vision swam. "You’ve got to be—!"

She stormed upstairs, flinging Rian’s door open to find him haphazardly stuffing clothes into a bag.

"You’re last place?!" she shrieked.

Rian shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. It happens."

"And this ‘Imaginary Schema’—what, like some fake pregnancy?!"

"Basically." His tone was disturbingly casual.

Reina’s temper exploded. She smacked his back hard enough to leave a red mark.

"You idiot! Do you even try? Just awaken your damn schema!"

"I did! What else am I supposed to do?!" Rian shot back, shoving past her. "I’m leaving. Don’t wanna miss my ride."

"You’re not going anywhere! Once I finish here, Grandfather and I—"

"I’ve got plans!"

"Plans? With what, your delusions?"

Rian bit his tongue. He almost played the Shirone card—but stopped himself.

If she finds out I’m traveling with Shirone and a girl, she’ll lock me in the basement.

Instead, he muttered, "I’m meeting someone. A girl."

Reina scoffed. "What girl would waste time on a dead-last swordsman?"

"Elzaine Tess. From the diplomatic family. You know them."

The Elzaine name gave her pause—but only for a second.

"Liar. Their daughter wouldn’t glance at you. Where are you really going?"

"None of your business!" He seized his chance, darting past her and leaping down the stairs.

Reina yelled after him, "Run all you want! Let’s see who gets there faster!"

She crumpled the report card, watching Rian vanish into the distance.

[Shirone’s Homecoming]

After bidding farewell to his friends, Shirone boarded the Ogent family’s carriage.

Temuran, the sub-butler, greeted him with a bow—a far cry from the stern man who’d once scolded him in the Great Library.

"It’s been too long, Young Master. You’ve done well."

"Likewise, Sub-Butler." Shirone smiled, though the title still flustered him.

As the carriage rolled through the mountains, they exchanged updates:

• Rai Ogent had passed the civil service exam (though 10th-grade prosecutors worked brutal hours).
• Reina had been promoted to the Royal Court’s 7th Music Band.
• The family patriarch remained swamped with duties, while the elder planned to retire soon.

"And Rian?" Shirone asked.

Temuran’s reply was curt. "No contact in six months."

Shirone laughed. "That’s Rian for you."

When the carriage arrived, Shirone inhaled deeply—home.

But the scene inside was not what he expected.

His father, Vincent, was red-faced and laughing, clinking beer mugs with—

"Rian?!"

The boy had grown taller, his hair shorter, but his grin was unmistakable.

"Shirone! You’re back!" Rian lunged forward—but Vincent intercepted, pulling Shirone into a boozy hug.

"My boy! Not a scratch on you!"

"Dad—the smell! Why’s Rian here?"

"He’s been helping me hunt! A real man’s work!" Vincent bellowed.

Rian pumped a fist. "Damn right!"

Shirone pinched his nose. "You’ve been drinking since morning?"

Rian winked. "Master’s orders."

Before Shirone could protest, Olina swept him into a proper embrace.

"Welcome home, my son."

Finally—a moment of peace.

Rian waved his hand frantically in front of Olina’s flushed face as she protested.

“Father, it’s fine! Let’s go chop some wood—to celebrate Shirone’s homecoming!”

Vincent burst into booming laughter. “Puhaha! Is that so? Well then, let’s make it a proper man’s outing—all three of us!”

Olina crossed her arms, scowling. “Honey! Who goes logging while drunk? Get inside and sleep it off!”

Shirone, however, gave an easy nod. “Mom, it’s alright. We’ll be quick.”

Now that things had escalated, he figured they might as well settle it properly.

Olina bit her lip, unconvinced. Even for an experienced woodsman like Vincent, climbing the mountain in his current state was reckless.

“Are you sure? What if someone gets hurt?”

Shirone smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them. We’ll be back before lunch.”

In the past, he would’ve obeyed without question. But now? He’d faced down monstrous ulks to protect his family. A tipsy lumber trip was nothing.

Olina studied her son—his confident stance, the steadiness in his voice. This wasn’t the Shirone she remembered. The boy who’d once been quiet and withdrawn now carried himself like someone who knew his own strength.

Was this the power of education?

The Logging Challenge

With Olina’s reluctant blessing, the three set off for the forest, swapping stories along the way. Rian, especially, marched ahead eagerly, itching to show off his progress.

During his two-day stay, he’d heard countless tales of Shirone’s childhood—but one stuck out: the Thunder Strike. After their duel back home, where Shirone’s blade had nearly bested him, his curiosity burned hotter than ever.

When they reached the logging site, Rian grinned and hefted his axe.

“Alright! Let’s settle this like men—who can fell a tree fastest? What do you say, Shirone? A wager—loser grants the winner a wish.”

Rian had bulked up considerably since their last meeting. Now, the two-handed axe looked almost comically small in his grip. Shirone, lean and nimble beside him, resembled a squirrel next to a bear.

Shirone smirked. “Sure. What’s the catch?”

He’d never lost a bet to Rian. Why back down now?

Rian raised the axe, flashing a thumbs-up at Vincent, who chuckled in approval.

“I’ll go first.”

With a mighty THWACK, the axe bit deep into the trunk, shaking the entire tree.

Raw, devastating power. Shirone’s eyebrows rose. Half a year of brutal training showed.

“Impressive. Was that a schema?”

Rian stiffened for a split second before laughing it off. “Hah! Of course not! Who needs schema just to chop wood?”

His tone was a little too forced, but Shirone let it slide.

Rian raised the axe again, this time with a cocky wink.

“The real show starts now.”

CRACK!

A thunderous impact split the air—the tree exploded from within, toppling in one clean strike.

“Thunder Strike…!”

Shirone recognized it instantly. If Rian could pull this off, he’d undoubtedly mastered basic swordsmanship.

“UH-HAHA! How’s that, Shirone? I’m not the same pushover you remember!”

Despite his booming laugh, Rian’s heart pounded. Truth was, his success rate against people was still shaky. But after Vincent’s tips and nonstop drilling, he could at least manage it on trees nine times out of ten.

Shirone nodded, impressed. “Not bad. Different from how I do it, though.”

“Of course! Now, the bet’s the bet—I took two swings. You’ve got one.”

Vincent clapped his hands, amused. “Haha! Give it your best shot, Shirone. If it’s a tie, we go again—might as well clear the whole mountain!”

He fully expected Shirone to struggle. Rian had brute strength, but Shirone? Even as a kid, he’d been all about technique.

“Here, use my axe.”

Shirone shook his head. “No need.”

He stepped toward the tree—empty-handed.

Vincent and Rian exchanged baffled glances. How the hell was he planning to fell a thick oak without an axe?

Shirone’s fingers flexed. The Spirit Zone enveloped him.

Then—SHINK!

A sound like a razor through parchment echoed from inside the trunk.

Before they could react, Shirone gave the tree a gentle push.

THUD.

It collapsed, revealing a cut smoother than any blade could make.

“YES! I win!” Shirone cheered, bouncing on his heels.

Meanwhile, Vincent and Rian stood frozen, jaws near the forest floor.

How?!

Rian crouched, inspecting the stump. No splinters, no ragged edges—just a perfect slice.

“…Magic?”

“Wind Cutter,” Shirone explained. “Basic spell—sharpens air into a blade.”

Vincent could only stare. He’d assumed magic school meant flashy tricks—not something that could effortlessly replace an axe.

“Hah! Think you could teach your old man? With this, I could chop a hundred trees a day!”

Shirone laughed awkwardly. “It’s ‘basic,’ but not easy.”

The thought did cross his mind—with magic, he could support his family now. But no wizard wasted their talents logging. The pay was laughable compared to even an apprentice’s stipend.

Still, the realization warmed him. He wasn’t helpless anymore.

The Aftermath

“Anyway, I won—so my wish is: Rian carries the lumber back.”

Rian groaned but grinned. “Tch! Was gonna do that anyway.”

As they hauled the logs home, Rian couldn’t stop smiling. Shirone had proven it—his growth was real.

‘That’s my rival. And I know you’re holding back.’

Feast and Revelations

Back at the house, Olina had outdone herself—a spread of mountain game, river fish, and every seasonal delicacy imaginable covered the table.

“Whoa! This is incredible—thank you!”

Between bites, Shirone regaled them with school stories (omitting the life-threatening parts).

“…So the answer was three. Ha! Thanks to that, I got promoted to Class Four next term.”

Silence.

Vincent and Olina blinked.

Shirone hesitated. Had he lost them? Then—

“That’s… incredible,” Olina whispered.

Vincent’s face split into a proud grin. “Aha! That’s what you meant? Congrats, son!”

“We’re so proud,” Olina added, dabbing her eyes with her apron.

Rian watched, touched. No wonder Shirone turned out so well.

The Real Reason

“So, Rian—why really come all this way?”

“Oh! Right.” Rian cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask your parents’ permission.”

Vincent leaned in. “For?”

“To take Shirone on a trip. A week—to Galliant Island.”

Shirone nearly choked. “What?! Since when?!”

“It’s a resort, genius. World-famous beaches, crystal waters—and it’s close to Creas. Perfect for a break!”

Shirone’s eyes narrowed. “…And the Kergo Ruins are there.”

Now it was Rian’s turn to gape. “You knew?”

“Not that you were going. But… yeah. I planned to visit.”

Olina, though sad to see him leave so soon, smiled. “Go. You should.”

Shirone wavered. “But I wanted to help Dad—”

Vincent boomed with laughter. “Bah! You’re young—go have fun! What kinda boy clings to his parents on break?”

Shirone pouted. If only they knew…

“Fine. But we’re staying ten days.”

Rian groaned. “Studying on vacation? You’re hopeless.”

But inwardly, he grinned.

‘Just wait. I’ve got a surprise that’ll knock those books right out of your hands.’

Nighttime Confessions

Later, as they lay side by side, Shirone prodded.

“You never answered. Why avoid going home?”

Rian stiffened. Damn. He knew exactly why—his sister had absolutely intercepted his report card.

But admitting he’d ranked last? No way.

“Just… family stuff. Haha!”

Shirone let it drop.

“Galliant’s fine. I was heading there anyway.”

“For the ruins? Why?”

Shirone hesitated. “…Don’t know yet. But promise me—if I need to stay longer, you’ll go back first.”

Rian’s instincts flared. This wasn’t just ‘research.’

Something was up.

The flickering lantern light cast long shadows across the stone walls as Rian leaned forward, his expression turning serious.

Rian: "By the way, Shirone… If you really want to investigate the ruins on the island, there’s one problem."

Shirone blinked, tilting his head slightly.

Shirone: "Huh? What’s the problem?"

Rian rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating before exhaling sharply.

Rian: "Actually… I planned this vacation as a couples' trip."

Shirone: "A couples' trip? You mean, like… pairs? A guy and a girl?"

Rian: "Yeah. My partner’s supposed to come with me. I should’ve mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t think you’d suggest exploring ruins."

Shirone’s gaze drifted upward, staring at the darkened ceiling as the weight of the situation settled in. A couples' trip… That meant he’d need to bring someone too.

After a brief silence, he nodded firmly.

Shirone: "Alright. Then I’ll bring someone as well."

Rian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The Shirone he knew was the type to turn red just from glimpsing women’s underwear—hardly the smooth-talking ladies' man who could casually invite a girl on a trip. He’d expected this to be the biggest hurdle, but Shirone had shattered those assumptions in an instant.

Rian: "You… Are you actually popular with women?"

Shirone: "Huh? No, not like that. But there’s someone I can ask. Honestly, I’d been thinking about it too. If you hadn’t suggested it first, I might’ve asked you myself."

Rian’s eyes gleamed with sudden excitement. He didn’t fully understand, but it sounded like Shirone already had a girl in mind!

Rian: "Hah! Won’t the witch back home be heartbroken if she hears this?"

Shirone: "Sister Reina? Why would she—?"

Rian: "Tch, never mind. More importantly—I’m dying to know! What’s she like? Is she pretty?"

Shirone’s lips twitched into a faint, uncertain smile.

Shirone: "Yeah… She’s pretty. But I don’t know if she’ll agree. There’s a good chance I’ll get rejected outright."

Rian clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.

Rian: "No way! You have to bring her. Go ask her tomorrow—no excuses! In the meantime, I’ll head back and get things ready."

Shirone hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of his sleeve. If Rian was bringing a partner, he had to bring one too. But the more he thought about it, the more his stomach twisted. Given his usual awkwardness, the odds of a "no" felt terrifyingly high.

Yet beneath the anxiety, a flicker of excitement burned.

This would be his first real trip—a real adventure with friends. And Galliante Island wasn’t just any destination; it was a famed paradise, brimming with the vibrant allure of the southern tropics.

The thought alone kept Shirone awake long into the night, his mind racing with possibilities.