Reborn to Burn the World That Cast Me Aside

It's been about six years since I—Machel Valebran—was reincarnated into this world. Born and raised as the third son of House Valebran, a noble family of high esteem, I've spent all that time quietly observing from the shadows of marble halls and gold-stitched curtains.

Inside the cold stone walls of the estate sitting atop a hill, I often found myself seated at the long dining table, where my father and both older brothers sat with an air of dignity.

We'd all be bent over identical parchment, our pens moving in unison, working on the lessons assigned to us by Father. He stood behind us—always behind us—his arms crossed, back straight, with a sharp, unreadable gaze in his eyes, that could freeze you in place.

I kept my head down and focused on my writing, but I couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence pressing me down like a silent mountain. His stare was sharp, cold, frightening... even though he never really paid me any mind.

He didn't have to. His mere presence was overwhelming. Even if he did look at me, I could never meet his eyes.

That's something Kaien, my eldest brother, shares with him—those eyes. Piercing. Intimidating. I shuddered unconsciously and forced the feeling away, returning my attention to the ink on the page. Even if I couldn't shine like them, I had to try. I had to prove something.

Eventually, we completed our assignments and passed them up to Father for his review. And his eyes scanned each one, narrowing slightly in thought. Then, he spoke.

"Rodric, your calculations are sloppy. You must revise them—and improve."

Rodric, my second elder brother, forced a smile and nodded with a bow. "Yes, Father. I'll do better."

Then Father turned to Kaien. "Excellent work, as always Kaien. You understand the principles clearly."

Kaien, both composed and confident, slightly bowed. "Yes, Father."

He nodded, offering a small gesture of acknowledgment. But when he came to me—he said nothing. Not even giving me a glance. Just a subtle shift of his eyes past me, as if I didn't even exist.

I remained seated, my hands clenched in my lap, trying not to let my disappointment show. Beside me, I could feel Kaien's silent indifference like a cold wind and Rodric's smug little smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Each of them silently judging me—for being the weak one. The forgotten son.

Later that day, both of my brothers trained under Father's guidance in the courtyard, practicing their swordplay with both precision and strength.

They were naturals at it. I used to train with them too, long ago. But no matter how hard I tried, I was always outmatched, outclassed... and utterly defeated.

So I stopped trying. And removed myself from the training ground and chose instead to lock myself in my room, surrounded by the silence and books. I'd sit at my desk for hours, pouring over the worn pages of thick tomes.

Surprisingly, the books in this world looked far different from the few tattered ones I'd scavenged in my past life. I never had many books back then—mostly torn-up scraps I found in gutters or dumpsters.

But what truly fascinated me wasn't just their appearance—it was the language. It was unlike anything from Earth. Both the letters and words were all so strange, curved and jagged in a beautiful, almost musical way.

Oddly enough, it wasn't hard for me to understand. Maybe because I'm still a child, learning languages comes easier? Math, numbers—they were familiar. The basics remained the same.

I once thought I'd hate studying like most kids would. In my previous life, school was nothing but stress and punishment. But here... it was different. It became something I could look forward to. Something mine. Something I could grow in, quietly.

As I scribbled in a notebook, practicing strokes of ancient letters, a small smile tugged at my lips. Even though I was alone, I didn't feel so hopeless. Even if no one needed me—I wanted to become someone useful. If I couldn't be strong like my brothers, maybe I could be something else entirely. Maybe I could build something out of this.

That was my hope.

"I wonder..." I murmured aloud, trailing off.

No, that's not it... even though it's already been six years since I was reincarnated into this world, I still don't really know what this world is. I know it's a medieval era—knights, nobles, royals—but is that really all it is?

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms as a yawn escaped. Then, a sudden thought struck me.

'What is this world really like beyond these walls?'

I didn't know. And that scared me a little.

But I pushed the thought aside. But it still reminded me too much of the other world—my old life. The loneliness was the same, just with a prettier ceiling. Still, I sighed, shook the thoughts away, and returned to my reading.

Time passed. Quiet hours turned to silent days. And I remained mostly ignored, but as long as I stayed out of everyone's way, I was allowed to roam the estate freely.

And so I did.

'Without Rodric chasing me around, I can finally check out the library,' I thought to myself with a grin. Ever since I was young, if I dared to wander the halls, Rodric would corner me, mock me, and beat me.

But I've learned how to avoid him. He's too lazy to bother chasing me if I run fast enough, which I was surprising good at.

Eventually, I made my way to the library. A massive room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and an air of old wisdom. I scanned the titles: combat strategy, swordsmanship, knightly virtues... all the usual fare for those training to become knights.

"There's a ton of books on battle and honor, but... is there anything else?" I whispered, running my fingers along the spines.

Something different. Something not about swords or war. Something just for me.

Even though I was still considered an outsider in this world—even though no one here saw me—I wanted something that didn't require being seen.

That's when I noticed it. A single book lying on the floor, half-open.

"Huh? What's this doing here?" I asked no one.

It was rare to find anything out of place, especially with how often the maids cleaned. I picked it up, brushing off the dust. The title had faded with time, but the moment I opened it, my eyes widened.

"Wait... is this—?"

It wasn't an ordinary book. This one was different.

"In order for one to awaken their true self, they must first understand the essence of magic."

Magic...?

I blinked, rereading the sentence. "Magic? Wait, magic actually exists in this world!?"

I knew this was a fantasy-like world, but no one ever told me about magic. Was it something hidden? Forbidden? Or just something no one thought to mentioning?

My hands trembled slightly with excitement.

"So there really is more to this world than I thought..."

I looked around. No one in sight. Just me, the books, and endless silence.

I held the book close and climbed into a corner, flipping through the pages feverishly. It was a magic textbook—an old one—and it didn't just explain spells. It detailed their history, origin, and purpose.

I read aloud: "Magic is the invisible will that shapes the elements of the world."

Apparently, there were five basic categories:

Attack Magic

Healing Magic

Summoning Magic

Defense Magic

Aspect Magic — a mysterious type tied to the soul and one's nature.

In order to use magic, one must first connect with mana—the life energy that flows through everything—and then channel it through focused intent and chant.

For the first time in either of my lives... I felt genuine excitement.

Could I really... do this?

I flipped to a section titled: Beginner Spells: Flame Arts.

I read over the first spell's chant, barely able to sit still.

Heart racing, I held the book in one hand, stretched out my other, and whispered:

"O ember small, hear my will. Ignite the spark within—burn and flare—FIREBALL!"

The moment the words left my lips, I felt something stir inside me. A warmth blooming in my chest, pulsing like a heartbeat. It raced down my arm and into my palm.

FWOOSH!

A small fireball flared to life—hovering in my hand like a living flame.

My eyes lit up. "I did it... I actually did it! Haha!"

But then—

"W-Whoa! HOT! HOT!"

I lost control of it. The fireball veered, and brushed against my sleeve—the flames caught the fabric.

Panic exploded in my chest. I dropped the book and flailed, smacking the fire with frantic hands until I managed to smother it out—using the very book that started it all.

Smoke wafted up, and my heart thundered against my ribs.

But even through the panic, I couldn't stop smiling.

Because for the first time—since I was born in this world, and no even before that—I had something that was mine. Something no one else knew about.

Magic.