The Weight of Time

“Live the way you want to die.”

The words echoed in Lucian Grey’s mind as he stepped down from the carriage. The creak of the wheels and the soft thud of boots on stone grounded him in the present.

He had first heard that phrase from his first mentor in this world—a man long gone but whose lessons had endured.

Lucian wasn’t a native of this place. Once, he had been an ordinary salaryman on the Blue Planet. A typical day of work and late-night gaming had led to the inexplicable: waking up in the world of Master of Spells, the game he had spent countless hours playing.

In the game, you aligned with the forces of good to defeat a tyrannical Demon King. Cliché, yes. But its rune-based magic system—paired with magic arrays and magical materials—had hooked him. Players could craft spells limited only by their imagination, making Master of Spells a cult hit.

But the reality of living in its world was starkly different.

Born as a commoner with meager magical talent, Lucian had received no golden finger, no secret lineage, no wise old master to guide him. Worse, his arrival coincided with the height of the brutal continental war featured in the game. He survived by clinging to scraps of game knowledge, his only advantage in this unforgiving world.

By the time the war ended, the Demon King defeated, and peace returned, Lucian had grown into a weary young adult scraping by with odd jobs in refugee camps.

The bustling town square greeted him with familiar sights: merchants hawking wares, children darting through cobbled streets, and a statue towering at the center.

Lucian’s gaze lingered on the monument—a striking likeness of Magnus Grey, the hero of the war. Draped in regal garments and poised with a staff, the figure seemed larger than life.

Magnus wasn’t a saint, but when it mattered most, he did what needed to be done. He paid the ultimate price to slay the Demon King and save the world.

Lucian approached the statue, tossing a coin into the fountain at its base in quiet tribute. “Maybe that’s what being a hero means—doing what must be done, no matter the cost,” he thought. “Live the way you want to die—Magnus did what he preached.”

Adjusting his coat, he made his way down a quieter street. By the time he reached the small inn, the sun was dipping low, and the warm glow of lanterns spilled onto the cobblestones.

The inn was old but well-kept, a sturdy mix of brick and timber. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread greeted Lucian as he stepped inside. He wove through the crowded tables to the bar counter, where a man emerged from the kitchen.

“Master Lucian?” the barkeeper whispered, his weathered face a picture of disbelief.

Theodore was in his sixties now, his once-black hair streaked with gray, but his muscular frame spoke of a life of hard work.

“It’s really you!” Theodore cried, rushing forward. His hands trembled as he clasped Lucian’s. “Master Lucian! I thought… I thought you were gone forever!”

Lucian chuckled softly. “You’ve grown old, Theo.”

“And you, Master Lucian—” Theodore’s voice cracked with emotion. “You’ve regained your youth! You must’ve finally become a Grand Mage and extended your lifespan. I knew you were a genius!”

“Some genius,” Lucian said with a wry smile. “It only took me 150 years.”

For decades, Lucian had clung to scraps of game knowledge, hoping that when the story’s main events concluded, he’d return to his original world. For five years, he waited. And waited.

But nothing happened.

By the tenth year, Lucian’s hope had thinned to a thread. Rather than wallow in despair, he set out to explore this strange world. Though his talents were limited, he rose to become a Formal Mage. For sixty years, he wandered, gaining knowledge and experience that far surpassed the static, predictable confines of the game world.

It was during these travels that he met Theodore, then an ambitious young man in a loose Mage organization renowned for its vast information network.

By his 90th year, Lucian felt theoretically prepared to attempt the breakthrough to become a Grand Mage. Yet doubts lingered. He withdrew to a remote village, severing ties with society to avoid the reach of old enemies.

At 144, with only a few years left in his natural lifespan, Lucian finally crafted a spell model—a masterpiece born of his accumulated knowledge and modern scientific understanding. He called it [Atomic Soul]. Using it he made his attempt.

The breakthrough was a success. Over the next year, the frail old man was reborn, vitality coursing through his veins. Though his hair remained gray, he looked no older than thirty. For the first time in this world, Lucian felt truly powerful.

Over mugs of ale and plates of steaming stew, he and Theodore caught up. Theodore’s joy was palpable, but it dimmed as their conversation turned grim.

“Mana storms, Master Lucian,” Theodore said, his tone grave. “Once rare, they’re now almost annual. Corrupted beasts pour out of the Void, turning entire regions into no-man’s lands.”

Lucian’s brow furrowed. “And no one’s managed to stop this?”

Theodore shook his head. “Unrest is spreading. Some say it’s the work of greater powers, but no one knows for sure. People are afraid, Master Lucian. They’re calling it the end of days.”

Lucian leaned back, exhaling slowly. Could this be the next arc of the game? He remembered rumors of a sequel, but nothing had been officially confirmed before he was pulled into this world.

“I have lived though many supposed end of days, Theo.” Lucian said finally. “And there were always heroes to hold up the sky. Now, I just want to join the Academy and spend my days researching magic.””

Theodore chuckled, his mood lightening. “You, retiring quietly? You’ve always been stronger than you let on, Master Lucian.”

Lucian shook his head. “That strength has cost me enough. I’m done.”

“Well, if you’re set on the Academy, you have options,” Theodore said. “You could join as a Senior Student—plenty of freedom to study and grow. Or,” he added with a grin, “you could teach. They’re hiring professors now. You’d have more salary and influence. You’ve always been a great teacher.”

“There’s also news of a truce signed by four of the seven great powers,” Theodore continued. “They’re sending their noble heirs to study at Magnus Academy. It’s becoming a hub of power and influence.”

Lucian hesitated. “Teaching? I don’t know if I’m qualified for that. Besides, I came here to learn.”

Theodore leaned forward. “Don’t sell yourself short. You taught me everything I know about magic when I was just a clueless kid.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Theodore’s wife, a cheerful older woman carrying a tray of desserts. She greeted Lucian warmly before dropping the final bombshell.

“Senior students have an age limit, dear,” she said, smiling knowingly. “You’ll have to apply as a professor.”

Lucian groaned inwardly but smiled. So much for peace and quiet.