Chapter 4: Destructive Interference
The main hall of the Valerius manor was rarely used. It was drafty, the tapestries were fading, and it cost too much firewood to keep warm. Today, however, the grand hearth was blazing, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
Standing in the center of the hall were two men draped in the midnight-blue cloaks of the Royal Magic Academy. Between them rested a pedestal holding a jagged, translucent crystal the size of a melon.
Ren walked into the hall, his small hand engulfed in his father’s rough, calloused grip. The Baron was sweating nervously.
"Ah, Baron Valerius," the taller Inspector sneered, looking down his long, aristocratic nose at Ren. "Is this the boy? The one your local parish priest reported as having an unusually high intelligence stat for a four-year-old?"
"Y-yes, Inspector Vance," the Baron stammered. "Ren is a bright boy. He reads fluently. But his affinity..."
"We will determine his affinity," the second Inspector snapped. He gestured to the crystal. "This is a Resonance Matrix. It does not read the 'Skill Panel' like a common appraisal spell. It measures the physical wavelength of the soul's mana. It cannot be fooled. Place your hand on it, boy."
Ren approached the pedestal. In his peripheral vision, the translucent blue text of his Skill Panel was still flashing its ominous warning:
[WARNING: System Administrators have been notified of irregular mana usage in Sector 4.]
Ren’s mind raced at the speed of a supercomputer. The System is watching. If this crystal detects the 'Thermodynamic Nullification' skill I just unlocked, or if it reads the sheer density of my mana, I won't just be a prodigy. I'll be a threat to whoever built this world's system.
He looked at the crystal. A Resonance Matrix. It measures wavelengths.
Ren knew wave physics. Sound waves, light waves, electromagnetic waves—they all followed the same basic principles. If two waves of the exact same frequency meet perfectly out of phase (the peak of one aligning with the trough of the other), they cancel each other out. It was called destructive interference.
"Whenever you are ready, boy," Inspector Vance sighed impatiently. "Push your mana into the stone."
Ren placed his small hand against the cold, smooth surface of the crystal.
He didn't just push his mana; he analyzed the ambient magical frequency of the crystal itself. He felt its baseline vibration. Then, he carefully, meticulously channeled his own mana into a localized wave, shifting its phase by exactly 180 degrees.
The crystal began to glow. First, a brilliant, blinding white—the true color of Ren's raw, unfiltered power.
The Inspectors gasped, taking a step back. The Baron's eyes widened in shock.
But before the light could stabilize, Ren slammed his counter-frequency into the crystal. The destructive interference hit the matrix like a sledgehammer. The brilliant white light violently fractured, shattering into a dull, muddy grey. It flickered weakly, spitting out random, uncoordinated sparks of red, blue, and green, before settling into a stagnant, cloudy static.
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Inspector Vance blinked, the awe draining from his face, replaced by profound disappointment.
"Muddy grey. Chaotic spectrum," Vance muttered, writing something down on his clipboard. "As expected of the countryside. It’s an Omni-Elemental affinity, but heavily fractured. His mana is fighting itself."
"A Trash Class," the second Inspector agreed, scoffing. "He may have a high Intelligence stat for a toddler, Baron, but his magical pathways are a mess. He’ll never be able to cast anything above a Tier-1 spell without exhausting his entire mana pool. He is of no use to the Academy's elite program."
Baron Valerius let out a breath that was equal parts crushing disappointment and immense relief. His son wasn't a monster, nor was he a genius who would be taken away to the Capital. He was just a normal, slightly flawed boy.
"Thank you, Inspectors," the Baron bowed.
Ren pulled his hand away from the crystal. He glanced at his Skill Panel. The flashing red text had vanished, replaced by a new, quiet notification.
[Anomaly Masked. System scan averted. Returning to standby.]
Ren allowed himself a tiny, internal smirk. Stupid machine.
Later that evening, Ren sat cross-legged on the thick rug in his bedroom. The fire was roaring, casting a warm, golden glow over the room.
Kira, the silver fox-kin, was curled up at the foot of his bed. She had eaten so much of Ren's "Ice Cream" that she had fallen into a deep, blissful food coma. Her fluffy tail occasionally twitched in her sleep.
Elara was sitting beside Ren, carefully mending a tear in one of his silk shirts with a needle and thread. Martha, the Head Maid, stood by the door, her hands folded neatly in front of her crisp apron, watching the Young Master with a look of absolute, unwavering reverence. She hadn't spoken of the ice cream incident, but the way she looked at Ren had fundamentally changed. She no longer saw a child; she saw a lord worth dying for.
"Elara," Ren said softly, breaking the silence.
"Yes, Ren?" she answered without looking up from her sewing.
"When you practice your barrier magic, what do you visualize?"
Elara paused, biting her lip. "The tutor says I have a high Earth Affinity. So, I visualize a wall of solid rock standing between me and the bad things. But... it takes so much mana, and it shatters if a boar hits it too hard."
Ren nodded. "A flat wall absorbs the entire kinetic force of an impact. It’s terribly inefficient."
He reached over, picking up a wooden building block from a toy chest. He held it flat and poked it hard with his finger. The block fell over.
"That is your barrier," Ren explained.
Then, he picked up a wedge-shaped block, placing the sharp, sloped edge facing forward. He poked it with the same force. Instead of falling, his finger slid off the angled side, deflecting harmlessly toward the floor.
"This is what your barrier should be," Ren said, his voice lowering into a serious, academic tone. "Don't build a wall, Elara. Build a slope. The world is full of energy, and energy always wants to travel in a straight line. If you angle your barrier at exactly forty-five degrees, you don't have to stop the energy. You just redirect it. It will cost you a fraction of the mana, and it will be ten times stronger."
Elara stared at the wooden wedge. Her young mind, sharp and eager to please the boy she adored, absorbed the concept immediately. "A slope... redirect the force. Not stop it."
"Exactly." Ren smiled, reaching out to pat her head. She leaned into his touch, a proud blush spreading across her cheeks.
Ren looked over at the sleeping Kira, and then up at the fiercely loyal Martha.
The Royal Academy thought he was garbage. The hidden "System Administrators" were blind to his true nature. But Ren knew the truth. This world was fragile, running on broken physics and a rigged game board.
If he wanted to live a comfortable life, if he wanted to build a luxurious utopia where he could safely pamper the girls who were swearing their lives to him, he couldn't just rely on his own power. He had to make them strong, too.
I will teach them the laws of the universe, Ren thought, watching the firelight dance in Elara's determined eyes. And together, we will break this world's system wide open.