The Record of Hyoren Enjo’s Journey in Another World

Chapter 136

A Moment when Frying His Own Brain turned to be Fun

Date : Day 24 of Grimleaf 1024 Aethellgard Concord Year.

Hyoren and Oria sat quietly inside the small library, a sense of satisfaction washing over both of them.

After finally discovering a Runic Array that perfectly suited his fighting style, Hyoren spoke again with a pleased expression. The satisfaction was evident in the way he held himself, in the slight upward curve of his lips, in the way his dark eyes moved across the paper with a sense of ownership rather than uncertainty.

”So, Oria... what should I do with this Runic Array to make it my own spell and learn the Dark Magic skill?”

Oria tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she settled into her explanation.

”Simple. Just like training any other skill… repetition.”

She pointed toward the Runic Array drawn on the paper. Her small finger traced the outline.

”For first-tier magic, someone with an average Attunement Level around 40% to 50% usually needs 20 to 30 hours of repetitive casting before the spell is fully etched on their mind.”

Then she smirked slightly.

”But yours is 125%.”

Her sapphire eyes gleamed with amusement.

”You’ll probably learn it much faster. Still though, don’t expect instant results.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

”My guess? Maybe 8 to 10 hours.”

Then she pointed toward herself. The motion was direct—drawing attention to her own experience as a point of comparison.

”My Water Arrow took around 15 hours to fully learn, and my Water Attunement is 80%.”

Hyoren nodded slowly.

”So basically, I just cast it repeatedly?”

He looked down toward the runic array again. The four runes stared back at him—each one representing a specific command that would work together to produce the desired magical effect. His dark eyes moved across the structure, tracing the connections between the runes as he worked through the practical implications of what she was describing.

”I imagine the effect... in this case, enchanting an object with a maledict curse. Then visualize the Runic Array structure inside my mind and pour Aethell into it?”

Oria nodded lightly, silver hair swaying softly with the motion.

”That’s exactly right. And don’t forget, you need to say the spell name loudly. It was needed for the key trigger.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

”Simple in theory, isn’t it?”

Then her expression turned more thoughtful.

”But constructing the proper mental image and memorizing the Runic Array are the hardest parts. Most people give up halfway through.”

She leaned back slightly in her chair.

”There’s a reason magicians are considered rare despite everyone technically being capable of becoming one.”

Her sapphire eyes drifted toward the piles of books around them. The volumes lay scattered across the table.

”The process is mentally exhausting.”

Hyoren smiled faintly.  Memorization had always been one of his strengths.

Back on Earth, he had spent years memorizing human anatomy—blood vessels, skeletal structures, nerve pathways, organs, and cellular systems. The human body was an incredibly complex machine, and understanding it required committing thousands of details to memory with the kind of precision that could mean the difference between life and death. Compared to that, memorizing Runic Arrays did not sound impossible.

Difficult, certainly—especially later on, when higher-tier spells would require enormous and intricate structures—but it was not impossible.

And imagination? That part almost made him want to laugh.

Back during his chuunibyou phase, he had spent countless hours imagining flashy magic spells inspired by games, manga, anime, and fantasy novels.

Embarrassing memories, honestly. The kind of youthful indulgence that he preferred not to think about too carefully—the dramatic poses, the shouted incantations, the elaborate visual effects that he had constructed in his mind during long afternoons when he should have been studying. But now those fantasies had become reality. And it going to help him.

Visualizing magic came surprisingly naturally to him.

”It honestly sounds fun to me, Oria.”

A grin slowly formed on his face.

”I like imagining how magic works and looks. And now that it’s real...”

His eyes drifted toward the Runic Array on the paper.

”I think I’m going to enjoy the process.”

Oria chuckled softly.

”Is that so? We’ll see whether you can actually persist or not.”

But her sapphire eyes had already noticed it.

The observation was subtle—the kind of detail that might escape someone who wasn’t paying close attention, but which stood out clearly to someone who had spent years watching students approach the study of magic.

That expression. The same expression she often saw from herself on the mirror, and from the more obsessed students inside the academy.

The expression of a magic enthusiast.

Oria’s expression softened slightly. The change was gentle—the scholarly assessment giving way to something more personal, more understanding. She recognized that look because she had worn it herself many times—the spark of genuine curiosity that separated those who persevered from those who gave up.

Her gaze drifted toward the window as the twin suns of Kresneger sank lower toward the horizon.

”I think we still have about an hour before night fully arrives.”

Then she looked back toward him with a faint smile.

”Let’s see how you do.”

She lightly tapped the paper containing the Runic Array. Her small finger pressed against the paper—drawing attention to the four runes that would form the foundation of his first Dark Magic spell.

”I’ll point out any mistakes while you practice. After that, you can continue training on your own later.”

***

Hyoren nodded.

He reached into his storage bag and pulled out his sword. The weapon emerged from the void easily. The scabbard alone looked heavy—the leather-wrapped sheath speaking to the weight of the blade it contained, the sturdy construction designed to protect both the weapon and anything it might accidentally strike.

With a smooth motion, he unsheathed it.

The blade slid free with a soft metallic sound. The Mithril-alloy Broadsword glimmered beneath Luna’s pale silver radiance. The metal caught the light filtering through the window and reflected it in subtle patterns—the distinctive sheen of mithril alloy.

His gaze returned toward the paper—to the Runic Array representing: Dark. Endow. Object. Maledict.

The circular structure was simple, yet elegant. Intertwined lines connected the runes into something coherent and strangely mystical.

Hyoren carefully memorized the shape.

Then he closed his eyes. The library faded from his vision as he turned his attention inward—focusing on the mental space where the spell would take shape. He began imagining how the spell should function.

It was an enchantment spell.

A Dark-element Aethell would wrap around an object, temporarily giving it a cursed property. The visualization required precision—he needed to imagine the flow of energy as it left his core, transformed into the appropriate element, and then enveloped the target object in a shroud of curse.

The curse itself was Maledict—a weakening effect that slightly reduced speed, toughness, and strength. Individually weak. But stackable. Each successful strike would add another layer of the curse, gradually diminishing the enemy’s capabilities until they were a shadow of their former effectiveness.

Then he imagined the flow of the magic itself.

Neutral Aethell stored within his Aethell Core near the heart would first transform into Dark-element Aethell. The first stage of the Runic Array. The Dark rune represented this. He could feel the energy responding to his intention—the neutral power within him beginning to shift and twist as it sought to align with the element he was calling upon.

Then the transformed Aethell would pass through the Endow and Object runes, flowing into his sword and enveloping it completely. The visualization required him to imagine the dark energy leaving his body and wrapping around the weapon—coating the blade in a shimmer that would be visible to anyone with Aethell Sense.

The dark Aethell would then temporarily grant the blade a cursed attribute through Maledict rune. The final stage of the process—the moment when the transformed energy achieved its intended purpose and the enchantment took hold.

The image settled inside his mind.

The Runic Array became stable. Clear and complete. Each component was in its proper place, each connection established according to the structure he had memorized. The mental construction held firm—not yet manifested in reality, but ready to be activated.

Then Hyoren spoke the spell’s name.

“Enchant Maledict.”

He immediately felt his core pulse.

Like forcefully twisting neutral Aethell into another element. The process was similar to what he had experienced before—the neutral Aethell within him responding to his intention and beginning to transform. Back then, the neutral Aethell had transformed into Light. This time, it was becoming Dark. The process was similar enough, despite different elements at work.

Back then, however, his mind had been entirely focused on saving Elise, so he had barely paid attention to the process itself. The desperation of the moment had overridden everything else—his consciousness had been consumed by the need to heal, to save, to prevent the worst from happening. The mechanics of the magic had been secondary to the outcome.

But now he could clearly feel it.

Every subtle shift in the energy, every moment of transformation, every point where the Aethell resisted or yielded to his intention. The awareness was almost overwhelming—the kind of detailed perception that made him appreciate how much he had missed during his first casting.

Yet just before the transformation fully stabilized—the entire structure shattered apart—unlike his first attempts at using Healing Light, which was flawless since first cast.

Hyoren did not panic.  Instead, he immediately understood the reason. The failure was not unexpected.

His first Light spell had been directly gifted by Goddess Luminara herself. The Runic Array had already been perfectly etched into his mind from the very beginning. The array had been complete and stable before he had even attempted to cast it—the goddess’s intervention providing him with a shortcut that bypassed the normal learning process entirely.

But this time was different. No divine shortcut. He needed repetition. Practice. Effort. If he wanted to truly learn the spell and acquire the Dark Magic skill, he had to carve the Runic Array into his mind with his own strength. The process could not be rushed or circumvented—it required the kind of sustained effort that only genuine dedication could provide.

”Ah... it failed. Haha.”

Hyoren smiled wryly.

Meanwhile, on the other side of table, Oria’s sapphire eyes were glowing faintly. The ethereal light that emanated from them was unmistakable—the sign of Aethell Sense being activated.

It seemed she was using the skill to observe the process directly so she could point out any mistakes Hyoren made. The ability allowed her to perceive the flow of Aethell in real time.

Then she smiled and deactivated the skill. Her eyes returned to normal—the faint glow fading as the magical perception gave way to ordinary sight.

”For a first attempt, that was actually pretty good, Hyoren.”

She rested her chin atop one hand.

”I could already see the Aethell responding to your intention. It hasn’t fully transformed into the Dark element yet, but the reaction was there.”

Then she gestured vaguely.

”I already told you this process takes time. Hours. Days. Sometimes even weeks for people with lower Attunement Levels.”

Her tone shifted into that of a proper teacher. The playfulness faded from her voice—replaced by something more serious, more instructive.

”Okay. Let’s continue.”

Hyoren nodded.

Then the repetition began. Visualize the spell. Memorize the Runic Array. Construct it inside his mind. Pour Aethell into it. Speak the spell name.

Again. And again.

Each attempt lasted only a few seconds, but the mental exhaustion slowly accumulated. The process was deceptively simple in theory—each individual step was straightforward enough to understand.

But the cumulative effect of sustained concentration was draining in a way that physical exertion could never match. Every failure required him to start over from the beginning—rebuilding the mental structure from scratch, re-establishing the flow of energy, re-attempting the transformation that had collapsed moments before.

Meanwhile, Oria carefully observed every process using her Aethell Sense, occasionally correcting him whenever something went wrong. Her guidance was precise—each correction targeted at a specific aspect of his technique that needed adjustment rather than vague suggestions that might or might not prove helpful.

”Hyoren, your focus broke before the Aethell fully transformed. Be patient. Wait until it completely stabilizes as Dark-element Aethell first.”

”Good. Continue.”

”No, no. You used less Aethell than the previous attempt.”

She pointed lightly toward his chest.

”Once a spell fully settles into your mind, the process becomes semi-automatic. But for now, you need to maintain consistent Aethell output each attempt.”

Her sapphire eyes narrowed slightly.

”Otherwise, the Runic Array won’t stabilize properly because the system receives inconsistent information.”

Then, after countless attempt—Oria smiled faintly.

”Good. That one was almost flawless.”

The repetition continued, and after about an hour, Hyoren’s mind felt completely burned out.

It was a different kind of exhaustion compared to physical training like Sword Mastery. His muscles were perfectly fine. His body could have continued for hours if that were the only consideration.

But his brain felt overheated—the kind of sensation that made him want to press something cold against his forehead and close his eyes until the throbbing subsided.

He slowly sheathed his sword back into its scabbard before leaned his back onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. He was lightly panting. The breath came in slow, deliberate intervals—not the rapid gasping of physical exertion, but the measured breathing of someone trying to calm an overtaxed mind.

Oria noticed immediately and smiled.

”Okay. I think that’s enough for today.”

She glanced toward the darkened sky outside the window.

“Your last attempt was good. You finally managed to fully transform neutral Aethell into Dark-element Aethell consistently.”

She tapped the Runic Array on the paper. Her small finger pressed against the array.

”That means out of the four-rune structure, you’ve already stabilized the first rune.”

Then she smirked—the kind of smile that came from someone who was about to deliver information that would put the student’s progress into proper perspective.

”Though honestly, that was the easiest part. Haha.”

Her finger moved, tracing the array.

”Your next focus will be guiding the Dark-element Aethell into the object itself.”

She tapped twice.

”Endow. Object.”

Hyoren massaged his temples with a tired groan. His fingers pressed against the sides of his head, trying to soothe the ache that had built up over the course of the training session.

”Oria... this is really hard. My brain feels like it’s about to short-circuit.”

He shook his head helplessly.

”I can repeat sword swings thousands of times without issue... but just one hour of magic training already destroyed me.”

Oria shook her head, silver hair swaying softly with the motion.

”That’s why I told you earlier that magic training is exhausting.”

She leaned back slightly. The sofa creaked with soft sound.

”Visualizing spells and memorizing Runic Arrays places enormous strain on the mind. Most people would rather swing weapons than study magic for that exact reason.”

But she noticed it. Despite his complaints, Hyoren was still smiling. The expression was subtle but unmistakable—the kind of genuine satisfaction that could not be entirely hidden by exhaustion or frustration.

A knowing smile appeared on Oria’s lips.

The expression was one of recognition—the look of someone who had seen this same pattern many times before and understood what it meant.

”But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

Hyoren straightened slightly. And his grin widened immediately, completely forgetting his headache for a moment.

”Very fun.”

Oria smiled fondly. The expression was warm. At times like this, Hyoren almost felt like a reflection of herself—the same spark of curiosity, the same willingness to endure difficulty in pursuit of knowledge, the same genuine enthusiasm that made the exhaustion worthwhile.

”Good. Because you’ll keep doing this until the spell permanently etches itself into your mind.”

She laughed softly before standing up from her seat.

Then she gestured for Hyoren to do the same. The motion was casual—a wave of her hand that indicated it was time to conclude their lesson for the evening.

”Alright. Time’s up. I still need to organize my potions and prepare for tomorrow.”

She looked toward him again. Her sapphire eyes held a mixture of warmth and practical assessment.

”Continue practicing on your own. I think you already understand the basics, so you probably won’t need my supervision anymore.”

Then her expression softened slightly.

”But if you have questions, feel free to visit again later.”

Hyoren stood and gave a respectful bow.

”Thank you for teaching me, Oria.”

He straightened again with a grin. The expression was one of genuine enthusiasm—the look of someone who was already looking forward to the next opportunity to practice what they had learned.

”And I’ll definitely come back. Whether it’s for guidance, brainstorming new spells, or just talking about magic.”

Oria smiled softly in return.

”Good. I enjoyed our discussions too.”

Her sapphire eyes gleamed faintly.

”Your creativity is genuinely interesting. Most people just memorize established Runic Arrays without trying anything new.”

She gestured toward the books scattered across the table. The motion encompassed the evidence of their collaborative process—the crossed-out arrays, the theoretical frameworks, the pages filled with notes that represented hours of productive discussion.

”So discussing rune combinations with you was actually fun.”

Then she pointed toward the three books.

“Take those with you. The Basic Dark Magic book is yours already, but you can keep Basic Light Magic and Basic Runic Theory too.”

Hyoren blinked in surprise.

“Really? Thank you, Oria. I truly appreciate it.”

He carefully placed the books into his storage bag. The books disappeared into the the void with ease.

Oria smiled again. The expression was one of satisfaction—the look of someone who was pleased to have found a student worth investing in.

”I already told you... it was fun for me too.”

A faint excitement appeared in her expression.

“So I’m looking forward to our next discussion. Study magic during your free time, and next time we’ll brainstorm another Runic Array together.”

After that, Oria left the library, with Hyoren following behind her. Their footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor.

Eventually, Hyoren stepped outside the shop.  The evening air was cool against his skin. The streets of Merchants’ District greet him.

Oria suddenly called out from behind him.

”Give my regards to Cow Tits. And tell her to come next time you practice magic so she can finally understand my point.”

A smug grin appeared on Oria’s face. The expression was mischievous—the kind of smile that came from someone who was about to deliver an insult that she found particularly clever.

”By watching us talking and training in magic, I want her to realize her brain is tiny because all her nutrients got wasted growing those useless lumps of fat instead.”

She gestured over herself—a wave that encompassed her own compact form as if to draw a contrast between her physique and Elise’s.

”And my compact form was not a bad thing, because my brain is big to compensate for that.”

Hyoren laughed helplessly—the kind of amusement that came from witnessing a familiar dynamic play out once again.

The two elves were always like this. Constantly bickering and insulting each other.

Yet somehow, obviously fond of one another beneath it all. The insults were sharp but never truly hurtful. The kind of verbal sparring that only occurred between people who trusted each other enough to speak freely. The rivalry was real, but so was the affection that underlay it.

”Will do, Oria.”

He waved lightly.

”I’m heading out now. Goodbye.”

Hyoren stepped out from the store. His boots made soft sounds on the paved stone. Behind him, the door closed with a soft click.

A moment later, the sign hanging on the entrance quietly flipped from Open to Closed.