Chương 39: Mutations

Enzo navigated to the first Guide entries. The ones from the beginning, before everything had become a blur of survival and discovery, when the rain fell and people died seizing. Two genes. Two methods for expressing mana. External casting and internal circulation. Wizards and cultivators. Or sorcerers, as the Guide called them, though nobody used that term. He read through everything again. Just as carefully as he had the first day. Some of it felt as if he were reading it for the first time.

The past two weeks had buried details he'd absorbed once and never revisited. Nothing new jumped out. He closed the entries and spun in his chair. He'd already tried the cultivation method once, out of simple curiosity. Back in San Francisco, after the hospital, he'd sat and attempted to draw mana through his body instead of his mind. Tried to feel it in his chest. Nothing had happened. Which had been exactly as expected, and he'd moved on without a second thought. But Signe's observation wouldn't leave him alone.

His aura looked like both a wizard's and a cultivator's. That was what she'd said. He had the halo around his head and the full-body presence that Kenzo had. Looking back, things lined up. How he felt after passing out and awakening to magic, like all the aches and pains had faded. All except the leg. How quickly the wound on his forehead healed, and without scarring. And underneath all of it, the memory he kept circling back to. The park. The man kicking Murph.

The surge of anger, followed by his hands shoving the man away, and a flash of purple light that had sent him flying. He'd assumed it was accidental spellcasting. Raw, uncontrolled magic from a new wizard. The Guide even said that was normal. And it was possible. He could mimic the effect with threads or a spell form… but he hadn't. Which is why, alone, none of it stood out as particularly odd. Mana and magic were new to everyone. Nobody knew what it was capable of, because the Guide worked off discovery.

Enzo stared at the Techniques category on his Status screen. It was one oddity that had bothered him from the beginning, until learning what it was for and dismissing it as poor interface design. Maybe it wasn't. He took a deep breath and focused his thoughts. Matched the pose described in the tutorial, still the only piece of freely given training information, and relaxed. Mana Sense activated, and everything took on the watercolor-like appearance of a world washed in purple hues.

Ambient mana responded to his intent, wisps drawn toward him, drifting to the center of his chest. It passed through the gap between his hands, reached his body, and— Nothing. The ambient mana splashed against his torso and flowed around him. He tried again. Same result. Again. And again. Then he tried converting the mana during the process, just in case that was the trick. Fire, water, earth, wind, body, life, light— Nothing. More nothing than when he tried to convert while absorbing mana into his mind.

Enzo stood up and paced the room. Murph's ears perked up from where she'd curled up on the bed and fallen asleep, but she paid him no further mind. Every second step, he allowed some of his body weight to rest on the knee. Let the pain happen, for just a moment. Not enough to cause damage. Just enough to remind him. To focus the mind. He paused and stretched out his fingers before clenching them slowly until the joints popped. Then he rolled his wrists, allowing his arms, shoulders, and neck to relax.

Forcing it wouldn't help. If something didn't work, it simply didn't work. You couldn't set an incorrectly sized gem into a ring's prong setting. Walking back to the workbench, he slid his spellbook closer and flicked through the pages. He stopped on a sad, half-filled page of notes he'd made about cultivation after listening to Val describe it. He was going to have to do something about the book. There was no order or rationale to the notes.

Instead, every new entry found its way onto whichever empty page was next. A problem for later. Running his fingers down the page, he reread his own notes with a frown. You'd think someone with as much precision as he had would write neatly. He didn't. Even reading his own scrawl was a challenge. And the information was sparse. Enough to consider heading downstairs to the safe and digging out the real collection of notes they were putting together. He dismissed the idea. The basics of cultivation were simple. Just…

odd. Sit and relax. Clear your mind. Focus on what was inside. Emotions. Heartbeat. Breathing. It sounded ridiculous. Not that mana manipulation was much better. What he'd originally thought was a science of geometric shapes and patterned intent turned out to be far more personal, if Signe were to be believed. To her, spells were sounds and beats. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Perhaps cultivation was the same.

Enzo lowered himself to the floor, carefully maneuvering his bad leg until he could fold it beneath him. The knee complained, but he found a position that was tolerable and settled into it. Hands on his knees. Back straight. Eyes closed. Heartbeat and breathing. That was all he needed to focus on. Everything else could wait. His heartbeat was easy enough to find. It was always there, steady and undemanding. His breathing followed naturally, each inhale and exhale measured and deliberate.

He let them fill his awareness. For about three seconds. Murph's nose whistled faintly with each exhale from the bed. His eye twitched. He refocused. Found the heartbeat again. The breathing. A stair creaked somewhere below him. Footsteps. His mother, probably, moving through the house the way she always did. He let it go. Came back to the heartbeat. Voices drifted up from outside. Two people calling to each other across the street. Something about lumber.

The distant, rhythmic thump of axes biting into wood carried through the window. Then the rustle of leaves as a breeze moved through the redwoods. Enzo's jaw tightened. He released it. Found the heartbeat. The breathing. Let everything else fall away. Then the voices faded. The axes became a memory. Murph's breathing dissolved into the background until it was indistinguishable from the silence. Which, from one moment to the next, became the thumping of his own heart.

Air drawn slowly into his lungs, then equally slowly released. Nothing else existed. Just the rhythm. And then he felt it. Mana. In his heart. In the blood. Reaching throughout his body along veins and arteries. Where the mana in his mind felt like a tranquil lake, a still and contained reservoir, the mana in his heart was something else entirely. It pulsed, pushing outward from his chest before pulling back, like waves lapping against the shore and washing back out.

Over and over, in time with the drumming beat of his heart. It was full. As if it had been there the whole time. Enzo's eyes snapped open. The notification pulsed at the edge of his awareness. This was it. It had to be the answer to why he couldn't convert mana. Two genes, not one. An anomaly? Or a rarity? Maybe even something else altogether. He steadied his breathing. Then pulled up the notification.

— New Guide Entry: Genetic Mutation and the Combined Affinity Problem Classification: Mage Physiology (Scholarly Article, Restricted Access, Magus Only) Related: Spellforging (Rare Universal Discipline) Mana use in sapient species originated from studying Beast cores and performing experimental genetic modifications to mimic their natural capabilities. Originally developed through joint research between draconic and elven scholars, the process produces two distinct gene types and mana reservoirs.

The modifications have since been adopted by numerous species across documented civilizations, though implementation timelines and outcomes vary. Several prominent species remain in pre-activation or early developmental phases, with limited or no existing documentation on their mana-capable populations. Despite extensive efforts, no engineered method has successfully unified the two gene types into a single, stable, inheritable expression.

However, natural genetic drift and mutation occasionally produce individuals carrying a combined gene. The resulting mutations are not predictable. Studies have shown that even individuals of the same race and similar genetic makeup can produce wildly varying outcomes, including unique magical expression, infertility, longevity, and death. These individuals are classified as Magi (singular: Magus).

The Combined Affinity Problem: All known Magus mutations share a single similarity, resulting in a highly restricted range of mana affinities available to the individual. Current theories attribute this to the combined gene's inability to process affinities below a threshold of natural compatibility.

Where a standard mage may convert any affinity available to their species, though the limits and difficulty remain subjects of scholarly debate, Magi appear capable of converting only mana types for which they possess a high-to-perfect grade affinity. The resulting set is typically between three and five affinities, determined by the individual's genetic makeup, mutation type, and species limitations, though there are recorded instances of Magus mutations bypassing even that.

This restriction is universal across documented species and is considered an inherent consequence of gene combination. Additionally, Magus mutations alter the mechanism of mana conversion. Standard mana conversion occurs during absorption. In Magi, the combined gene disrupts this process, requiring conversion to occur internally during transfer between the two mana systems, beginning with the dominant genetic factor.

Both the requirement for internal conversion and the restricted natural mana-typing mimic known limitations of Beast cores and their magical abilities. No known methods exist to expand a Magus's affinity range beyond their innate set. The accepted solution is for Magi to rely heavily on mana conversion and storage enchantments, despite the risks and known limitations associated with them. Note: Magus development involves the interaction of two distinct mana systems within a single physiology.

The Universal Training Guide strongly recommends consulting a mentor or magical technician with experience in Magus mutations and the Combined Affinity Problem before undertaking advanced development. Improper integration of dual mana systems carries significant risks. Magi are extremely rare, with historically high rates of premature death, the leading cause of which is experimentation. — The notification closed. Enzo didn't move.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there listening to Murph breathe, to the sounds of woodcutting outside, to people calling out to each other. His magic was broken. Unique magical expression. Infertility. Longevity. Death. That was such a strange, disordered list of things that might come from it. And while this entry differed from the rest provided by the Guide, it still didn't answer his questions clearly. Was he going to die? Probably not. He'd survived the blood rain and wielded magic ever since.

Unless it specifically occurred because he used the other side of his magic. Clarity would have been nice. Except the damn Guide had laws on non-interference in magical development along with the constant reminders about seeking out mentors that didn't exist. The mention of infertility bothered him, too. He wanted to be a father. One day. Not yet, and certainly not now, with everything going on. But one day. Enzo rubbed his face. The side effects didn't matter right now. Unless he died.

Then it would matter, just not to him. Because he'd be dead. But his friends and family would probably be at least a little unhappy with him. He sighed. Even so, he knew he was going to test it. He had to know if he could convert mana now that he knew how to approach it. Besides, his mutation would have killed him already if it were going to. Probably.