Exposition – Magic and Ki
Alright, alright. I know what you’re all thinking. You’re reading this and wondering what the hell all this “elemental magic” and “martial arts magic” stuff is about, right? Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’ve probably seen a thousand and one fantasy stories with magic systems that are more confusing than a time loop paradox. But don’t worry—I’m here to break it all down for you. You’ll thank me ter… or, you know, probably just keep reading because you’ve got nothing better to do.
Let’s rewind a bit. When I first arrived in this world, I had absolutely no clue what was going on. I was busy training my ass off trying to get stronger. But eventually, I had some free time—a rare commodity, I know—and I figured I’d better educate myself on the whole magic thing. After all, I wasn’t going to survive by flexing my muscles alone. So I dug into the world’s magic system, and let me tell you, I found out a lot. There are three types of magic here. And no, I’m not counting “getting drunk and punching things” as magic, even though it should be.
Type One: Elemental Magic.
Okay, so this one’s the fshy stuff. Think of it like the “cool kid” magic. You’ve got your fire, water, earth, and air—basically, your four basic elements. Very cssical—if you’ve ever watched an anime or read a fantasy book, you’ve seen this one a million times. But here’s where it gets a little tricky.
Elemental magic isn’t just some hocus-pocus where you snap your fingers and hope a fireball appears. Nah, that’s child’s py. To make this stuff work, you need to draw magic circles. Yeah, circles. Just like a little kid’s doodle, except these are so complex that you’d probably need to be a math genius to get it right without blowing yourself up. These circles are made up of runes—ancient symbols that basically act as the nguage of magic. Think of them as the old school cheat codes that let you py the game of magic. And trust me, you don’t want to mess up these runes. If you do, you’ll end up setting your eyebrows on fire or, worse, summoning a giant frog.
Now, not all magic circles are created equal. Some of them are huge, and others are smaller than my patience when someone tells me they don’t like pizza. The size of the circle doesn’t necessarily mean it’s more powerful. It’s the runes inside the circle that matter. Different types of runes require different levels of mana to activate. So if you’re using weak-ass runes, you can have a circle the size of a small town, but it won’t do squat. On the flip side, a well-pced, smaller circle with stronger runes could unleash an attack powerful enough to burn down a forest. It’s all about the mana you can pour into the circle. That’s why the most powerful mages often have intricate, multi-yered circles with runes that require serious mana to cast.
Freya? Yeah, she burned my hands st night. But no, she didn’t need a giant circle for that. Magic with style doesn’t need a big show. You don’t need to conjure up the biggest, baddest fireball—sometimes, a little fme goes a long way.
But back to the elemental stuff—most people can only use one of the elements, and it’s usually based on their affinity to it. For example, you get the hot-headed types who end up being fire mages, the calm and cool folks who master water, and the sturdy folks who roll with earth. But rare as it is, some folks can use two elements. And if you’re REALLY lucky (or just have some ancient bloodline), you might even be able to pull off the crazy stunt of using all four elements. That’s what the founder of the Vermillion Empire, Eustass Vermillion, was able to do over 2,000 years ago. All four, like he was some kind of ancient superhero.
Type Two: Martial Magic (or Martial Arts Magic).
Alright, moving on. This one’s a little less fshy but way more practical in a fight. Martial magic, also known as martial arts magic (because, you know, they couldn’t be bothered to pick one name), is used to enhance your physical abilities. Yeah, it’s like hitting the gym, but with magic. Why lift weights when you can just runes your body to perfection? That’s the magic of this system.
Instead of drawing those intricate magic circles, martial mages write runes directly on their bodies. Yeah, you heard me right. They literally tattoo themselves with magic. I mean, if you ask me, that’s one way to make yourself the coolest person in the room. Want to be faster? There’s a rune for that. Stronger? Yep, there’s a rune for that too. It’s like shopping at a magical fitness store where every rune is a new upgrade to your body’s stats.
Now, there are tiers to this magic, too. Not all runes are created equal. The more powerful the rune, the more mana it takes to activate. So, you can’t just go around writing runes all willy-nilly and expect to be unstoppable. You need to have enough mana to activate them, or you’ll end up with a weak-ass enhancement that barely makes you faster than a sloth on a bad day.
Freya’s an elemental mage, so she doesn’t rely on martial runes as much, but Aric? That guy’s practically a walking rune store. I’ve seen him use enough speed and strength runes to make me wonder if he’s secretly some kind of cyborg. He’s an example of how martial magic can turn you into a literal powerhouse.
It’s super common, too. Why? Because it doesn’t require much mana compared to elemental magic. So as long as you’ve got some mana to burn, you can keep boosting your physical abilities. Want to be faster than a horse on fire? Done. Want to punch through stone? Easy. But here’s the kicker: Most people just stick to one type of magic—either elemental or martial. Juggling both? Yeah, good luck. You’ll end up sucking at both. Better pick one and master it.
Type Three: Null Magic (Bloodline Magic).
Now, the most mysterious and rarest of the bunch: Null Magic. Or as I like to call it: “The Magic of Being Born Special.” Want to use this magic? Tough luck, because you can’t learn it. You can’t train it either. Nope, you have to be born with it. Think of it like some exclusive VIP club where the only people who get in are the chosen ones.
But here’s the real kicker: this isn’t like elemental or martial magic, where you can improve with training. Null Magic is tied to your bloodline, your family’s secret recipe of awesomeness. It’s like an ancient genetic mutation passed down from generation to generation. Some families might invent their own version of it, but it’s rare and usually kept way under wraps. So far, I haven’t met anyone with Null Magic. I’m sure it’s out there, but most people who have it don’t advertise it. It’s like the world’s best-kept secret, and most folks are happy to keep it that way.
So, there you have it. A nice little breakdown of the three types of magic in this world. Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, but if you’re still reading this, you’re probably some kind of nerd who actually wants to learn about this stuff. And I mean that in the best way possible. I respect it. It’s better than being out there like some random idiot with no idea how magic works.
But hey, I’m not judging. I’m a pervert too. We’re all in this together, right? Now, stop wasting time and go out there and use this knowledge to, I don’t know, save the world or something. Or, you know, just keep reading. Whatever floats your boat.
So, there you have it. That’s the breakdown of magic around here. Impressive, right? But now—now we get to the interesting part.
Then... there’s me.
As you guys already know from the first chapter (because I’m sure you read it—what kind of person would skip the first chapter? Seriously?), I was given three options: Ki Control, Chakra Control, and Mana Control. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I heard those options, I thought, “Well, Chakra sounds cool, but I’m not trying to get all chakra headband and start posing like I’m in a ninja anime.” Mana control? Eh, no thanks. I’d rather not be another wizard wearing a pointy hat, looking like I just came from a Renaissance fair. So, I picked Ki Control. It sounded the most badass.
But here’s the kicker: In a world full of magic users, I’m the only one without a single drop of magic in me. Not a drop. Not even a faint trickle, like, you know, when you’re trying to empty the st bit of soda from a can, and it’s like bloop bloop bloop? Yeah, none of that.
I mean, seriously, couldn’t I have been sent to a world full of other Ki users? I would’ve been fine with that! At least I could've had some backup. But nope. Here I am, stuck in this magic-filled world where everyone’s throwing fireballs and summoning water whirlpools, while I’m over here doing nothing. Sure, I can shoot sers from my hands... when I remember how to. But it’s barely enough to give someone a decent sunburn.
Still... I’ve got to admit, I kind of like the fact that I’m this unique. It’s like being that one kid who doesn't py soccer but still kicks a ball out of the park every once in a while. If I can even get to the levels of early Dragon Ball Z—you know, the part where Goku was a kid and still could punch mountains in half—I could be the most legendary person in this entire world. At least that’s the dream. The real question is—how the hell do I get there?
Now, about Ki. You know how in every magical world there’s that one guy who stands out because he doesn’t have magic? Yeah, that’s me. The Ki user. Except here’s the problem—I can barely control my own Ki. I’ve barely mastered the basics, and let me tell you, it’s harder than it sounds.
I mean, flying? Yeah, don’t even get me started. I can’t fly for crap. If I try to jump too high, I get the sensation I’m about to facepnt into the ground like a potato that was dropped out of a pne. Not exactly “mighty warrior” material, huh? Don’t get me wrong, I can sense people—kind of. It’s like a weird buzzing in the air, like when your phone’s vibrating on silent mode in your pocket. You can feel it, but you can’t pinpoint it. And that’s exactly what I’m dealing with. The people around me? They’re all just a blur. I can sense where they are, but I can’t tell who is who.
The only slight difference I can tell is that the stronger people—you know, the ones who’ve been lifting rocks for fun and have some insane amount of physical strength—tend to have more Ki. So yeah, that’s a thing. I can sense the difference between someone like Aric, who’s practically a walking boulder, and someone like, say, Freya, who is... well, not exactly lifting boulders for fun. She’s more about throwing fireballs than doing squats. Still, it’s all just a blur of energy. It’s like looking at a crowd of people through frosted gss—sure, you can make out shapes, but you have no idea what they look like.
It’s frustrating. And when I try to focus harder on the Ki, I end up more tired than anything. Like, I spent an entire week trying to just focus on a tiny bit of Ki in my fingers—nope. I got so frustrated that I ended up spending the next hour lying on the floor trying to remember if I was supposed to be meditating or just napping. It’s a constant struggle.
But, hey, at least I’m not just sitting around doing nothing. That’s progress, right? Sure, I don’t have the fshy fireballs or the cool lightning tricks. But if I can get this Ki thing under control—just a little bit—I could become unstoppable. Imagine me, zipping around this world like some super-powered martial artist, punching mountains instead of just walking into them by accident. Now that’s a future worth fighting for.
And that, folks, is the grand tale of my magical (or should I say non-magical) journey. At least I’m unique. I’m like the limited edition of warriors. So when you see me, don’t think “Oh, there’s the guy with no magic.” Think of me as the underdog—the guy who’s going to make it big even without all that fshy stuff. I’m going to get there. Even if it means stumbling, falling, and constantly wondering if I’ll ever be able to fly without face-pnting into the dirt. Because trust me, if I can get to DBZ levels of awesome—this world’s going to be mine.