Vol 1 Chapter 1 – I Want to Use Magic, But My Circuits Are Broken, So I’ll Fix Them【Vol 1 – When Written in Kanji, It’s Saionji Yumeba】

Alcian Empire, Fourth Imperial Prince Emilio = Orteando = Alcian.

Nickname: Lio.

I regained my memories from my previous life at age six.

I suddenly vomited blood at dinner and collapsed, spending nearly two weeks hovering between life and death. When I emerged from that ordeal, I remembered my past life.

To put it bluntly, someone tried to poison me.

A normal six-year-old wouldn’t have survived. But remembering my past life gave me an adult’s resilience—one hardened by misfortune—and I narrowly escaped death.

The incident concluded with a cook being executed. But of course, a mere cook had no reason to kill me.

Imperial family meals always have poison testers, and when that person remained perfectly healthy, only a fool wouldn’t suspect conspiracy.

The cook was killed to tie up loose ends. The real culprit still walks freely through the Imperial castle.

But rather than hunt for the culprit, I prioritized sorting through my memories.

Reincarnated by the Reincarnation God into a world beyond Earth, I naturally had no memories of my previous life.

That should have been normal. But apparently, the misfortune-attracting trait Earth’s god inflicted on me, combined with my encounter with the Reincarnation God, had loosened certain restrictions.

Just by hovering near death, I remembered my immediately previous life.

According to the Reincarnation God, I might have been reincarnated dozens, hundreds, even thousands of times. Yet I only remembered my most recent life, which meant that life was special to me.

In a bad way, of course.

The Reincarnation God said my misfortune-attracting trait had stopped functioning, but getting poisoned at age six made me doubt that claim.

I had no lingering attachment to my past life, but if those memories could help me survive this one, I’d use them.

So I spent considerable time reconciling my past and present memories.

　◇◇◇

This world—more precisely, the massive continent called Argol—serves as the stage. The Alcian Empire controls roughly one-sixth of it.

One-sixth might not sound impressive, but considering Argol’s immense size, that’s an extraordinary territory for a single nation.

If my secondhand knowledge is accurate, Argol Continent combines all the landmasses west of Japan—China, Russia, Europe—into one sprawling continent.

One-sixth of that gives you a sense of the scale.

Assuming this planet matches Earth’s size, there’s probably another continent roughly the size of the Americas somewhere, but that’s beside the point.

The Empire’s stated goal is, naturally, continental unification.

Given that governance is already precarious at current territory levels, further expansion seems suicidal. Yet continental unification remains the official objective.

Achieving that goal requires a long timeline and an exceptional emperor—or so the thinking goes.

To cultivate exceptional emperors, succession struggles occur among the imperial siblings.

My attempted poisoning was likely part of that succession war.

Killing a prince seems excessive, and if the culprit is discovered to be imperial family, they’d be eliminated from succession. Yet someone among my siblings wants the throne badly enough to risk it.

Emperor, huh.

From my perspective—still unable to fully accept being reborn as royalty—it seems insane. But I suppose it looks appealing to those whose perception hasn’t been warped by external circumstances.

I find nothing appealing about being emperor. Just thinking about governance sounds exhausting.

Incidentally, I have seven brothers including myself, and five sisters.

Twelve imperial children total. Is that many or few?

　◇◇◇

This world isn’t Earth.

Of course, it’s not completely dissimilar. Physical laws apply just like on Earth, and most inhabitants of the continent are human.

The biggest difference from Earth? This world has a mysterious power called magic.

Magic triggers various phenomena.

Flames erupt from nothing. Water materializes in large quantities. Gale winds blow. Earth rises up.

Magic makes life convenient, but more importantly, it demonstrates overwhelming effectiveness in combat.

A single magic user—a mage—can reverse battle outcomes or cause massive destruction.

However, whether due to magic’s existence or not, vicious creatures called monsters—which didn’t exist on Earth—roam the continent.

While the Empire controls one-sixth of the continent, monsters dominate another third.

For the Empire to unify the continent, they must exterminate these rampant monsters. The primary role of monster subjugation falls to people called adventurers.

Adventurers are ranked by class, from A-class at the top to F-class at the bottom.

Some even reach Super A-class—nicknamed S-class—but they’re exceptions among exceptions. You could count them on one hand across the entire continent.

In summary, this world differs from Earth in having magic—a convenient, powerful force—while conversely, monsters infest the continent in massive numbers.

　◇◇◇

As a Japanese person, wanting to try magic when such a convenient power exists is only natural.

“Unfortunately, Prince Emilio has no aptitude for magic.”

“Seriously?”

The shock made me forget my royal speech patterns and respond like my old self.

Yeah. Magic can basically be used by anyone. Even commoners utilize magic in daily life. But exceptions exist—some people have no magical aptitude.

I never dreamed I’d be one of them.

“What do you mean, no aptitude?”

I asked the magic instructor—called a court mage in the Empire—an elderly man.

“Magic requires fuel called mana. Your Highness possesses extremely minimal mana. Most likely, you were born with a defect in the function that generates mana.”

“…”

This court mage addressed me as “Your Highness” and acted respectful, but his gaze clearly showed contempt.

I was born with features unique among the seven princes.

Black hair, a red right eye, and a green left eye.

The Emperor and all his consorts—including my mother—possess the golden hair and blue eyes that mark imperial and noble blood.

My black hair was considered ominous. My heterochromia—different colored eyes—was deemed even more unsettling.

Even my own mother found me disturbing.

The attempted poisoning received no thorough investigation largely because of this.

Learning magic from these people is impossible.

Whether I truly lack aptitude is questionable, but I refuse to bow to people like this. Learning from them would lead nowhere good.

“I see.”

I’ll just have to manage on my own.

　◇◇◇

Even if people find me unsettling, I remain imperial family with the privilege of freely walking the castle.

I have no allies, so receiving instruction is impossible. But no one objects to me reading the castle’s books.

So I read books about mana, but…

…Complicated.

Honestly, I didn’t understand much.

Magic requires mana. The best way to sense mana is having a mage channel it through your body. But I don’t know any mage willing to do that for me.

Humans in this world are born with something called a “source” that generates mana, but the books never specified where this source is located.

Maybe I should try meditation to find it.

Hardened by misfortune, giving up immediately isn’t an option. I’ll start with what I can do.

I sat in meditation, concentrating deeply.

Deep, deep—I imagined sinking my consciousness into my inner depths.

Meditating in my room, but as a prince, opportunities for solitude are rare. The maid’s suspicious glare annoyed me.

She probably thinks the discarded prince is doing something weird again.

Yeah. I’m secretly called the “discarded prince.”

But this much won’t break me.

On Earth, I couldn’t have believed in finding my own mana source. But in this world with magic and mana sources, I can believe.

Gradually I filtered out ambient noise, concentrating deeply, sinking my awareness.

It wasn’t easy, nor could I concentrate immediately, but…

Ah. I’m getting there.

After several hours of motionless effort…

I found myself in a room about six tatami mats wide.

Where am I?

The room was barren. The only feature was a hand pump installed at the center.

Could this be… my subconscious?

By sinking my consciousness deeply, I apparently accessed my own subconscious.

If this is my subconscious, what’s this room? And this pump?

Confused by countless unknowns, I tried operating the hand pump’s handle…

It’s broken.

The pump was severely damaged.

From my past life working in household equipment installation and repair, I can say this hand pump belongs in the scrap heap.

But I don’t know what role this pump plays, and there’s no replacement… I’ll have to fix it.

That requires repair parts and tools.

This is inside my subconscious. Which means I can obtain them through imagination.

I don’t fully understand the situation yet, but I’ll start by repairing this pump.

　◇◇◇

Repairing the hand pump took two months.

Real-world time, not subconscious time.

Just imagining parts and tools wasn’t enough for proper repairs. Forming clear mental images took time.

Every day I meditated while people found me unsettling. Despite that, I persevered and repaired the hand pump…

What the hell is this?

Pumping the handle produced a small amount of black, highly viscous water.

Doesn’t seem like sewage, and it’s not sticky like oil.

I played with the black water for a while…

Ah.

A thought struck me suddenly.

Could this be mana?

I wasn’t certain, but somehow it felt right.

Did I lack magical aptitude because this hand pump was broken?

Admitting that court mage was right irritates me, but…

Wait a minute.

Rather than thinking I lacked aptitude because it was broken, I should consider why it broke in the first place.

…From the poisoning?

Maybe the poison I was given had the effect of destroying the mechanism that draws mana from the source?

If I’d died from the poison, great. But even if I survived, destroying my mana-drawing mechanism would render me powerless as royalty and eliminate me from succession.

Since the Empire seeks strong emperors for continental unification, princes who can’t use magic are useless.

How thorough.

Should I be appalled or impressed?

Anyway, if this is mana… what do I do with it?

I filled an imagined bucket, but how does this become magic?

For now… I’ll try compressing it into a ball.

Though liquid, its high viscosity means shaping it into a sphere isn’t impossible.

So I kneaded the water from the bucket into a ball shape…

Oh?

It formed a sphere surprisingly easily. Applying pressure compressed it more than expected.

Like a mud ball.

Since I’m at it, I compressed and shaped it thoroughly, then polished it smooth.

Using three full buckets, I created a perfectly spherical ball three centimeters in diameter.

Hmm. Should I make lots of these?

Whether this leads to magic remains unknown, but encouraged by progress, I decided to mass-produce mana spheres.

　◇◇◇

…This is inefficient.

Naturally, manually pumping mana with a hand pump, then shaping, compressing, and polishing by hand was incredibly inefficient.

I need at least an electric pump.

Automatic pumping would drastically improve efficiency.

But this world doesn’t have electricity… or does it?

I paused to think.

Come to think of it, this is inside my subconscious.

This world may lack electricity—no outlets—but inside my subconscious, I can create anything through imagination.

Let’s try it.

I temporarily stopped making mana spheres and began converting the hand pump into an electric pump.

　◇◇◇

It took nearly six months.

Yeah. I turned seven.

But I completed the electric pump and can now automatically draw mana.

This improves efficiency—but…

Having come this far, I want to automate compression and polishing too.

I know efficiency-seeking has no limits, but pursuing efficiency is human nature.

Alright. Let’s do it.

I’ll pursue maximum efficiency.

　◇◇◇

Eight-year-old Lio here.

Yeah. Relentlessly pursuing efficiency took a full year.

But thanks to that, the electric pump draws mana that travels along a conveyor belt into a compression mechanism, gets compressed and polished, then packed into imagined boxes. When boxes fill up, they stack in the room’s corner—a complete automated system.

I’m so satisfied.

As I admired the culmination of nearly two years’ work…

Wait. How do I actually use magic with this?

I suddenly realized it doesn’t connect to actual magic.

Yeah. Mana keeps accumulating, but I have no idea how to use it.

…Better research.

Back to the library.

　◇◇◇

Magic divides into two types: incantation magic and inscription magic.

Incantation magic converts mana into various phenomena through spoken words.

Inscription magic embeds special markings and produces effects by channeling mana through them.

Incantation magic offers immediacy and powerful effects.

Inscription magic requires preparation but produces perpetual effects with mana flow.

Ideally, mages master both, but “magic” commonly refers to the former—incantation magic.

Magic has five levels: Elementary, Lower, Intermediate, Upper, and Advanced. It also divides into types like Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, Dark, Void, Time, and many others.

“Elementary magic basics… Tinder. Just gather mana at your fingertip, recite the incantation ‘Tinder,’ and it activates.”

A spell commonly valued for starting fires. So elementary that even commoners who can’t use it are rare.

I immediately tried gathering mana at my fingertip…

How do I gather mana at my fingertip?

I’ve accumulated massive amounts of mana spheres in my subconscious room, but I don’t know how to channel mana to my fingertip.

Thinking about it, I’ve extensively handled mana inside my subconscious but never learned how to manipulate mana in reality.

“Mmm.”

I tried various approaches, but couldn’t figure out how to gather mana at my fingertip.

I didn’t know how to extract mana from my subconscious room.

“●▲■… Tinder.”

I tried just reciting the incantation, but predictably nothing happened.

“Tee-hee-hee.”