Swirling thoughts (4)

The many revelations Sebastian unearthed that day weighed heavily on his mind, casting a shadow over the prospect of rest.

As he lay in bed, the echoes of his experiments with mana and the tantalizing possibilities they unveiled danced in his thoughts. Yet, it wasn't just the excitement of discovery that kept him awake that night.

Years of living in perpetual vigilance, constantly scanning the surroundings for potential threats, had etched deep grooves of apprehension into his psyche.

The mere notion of surrendering to sleep brought with it a nagging unease, as if danger lurked just beyond the threshold of consciousness, ready to pounce at the slightest lapse in vigilance.

Not even having regressed to the past, and being under the watchful eye of his mother, a fourth leveled Thespian was enough to make him feel better.

However, he realized those six months before his awakening were likely the only ones he could sleep for 8 hours a night without actually risking anything.

As dawn approached, Sebastian emerged from his room, his steps heavy with fatigue born from a night of restless tossing and turning.

Descending the stairs to the ground floor, he made his way to the kitchen, where the promise of food beckoned.

There, he found his mother already at work, her hands moving deftly as she prepared the morning's meal. She turned to him with a loving smile. "Would you like something to eat?"

At her inquiry, Sebastian nodded wearily, his exhaustion clear in the heavy bags beneath his eyes. Mary noticed that quickly.

"Did you have trouble sleeping?"

"Yes," he said. "I had some nightmares." His voice betrayed the weariness that clung to him like a shroud.

With a warm smile, his mother set about gathering the ingredients, her movements fluid and practiced.

The comforting aroma of breakfast filled the air, a welcome distraction from the weight of the night's unrest.

As Sebastian waited, lost in his thoughts, the sound of footsteps on the stairs drew his attention. He turned and saw his younger brother descending with a yawn.

His tousled hair testified that, contrary to his older brother, he slept like a log.

"Morning," his brother said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning." Sebastian offered a tired smile in return. Opposite to the reaction he had with his mother, that was understandable since he just came back to the past. With Lucius, Sebastian faked nothing was wrong, but his heart was in turmoil.

The memory of his little brother's lifeless form haunted Sebastian's thoughts like a specter in the night.

The image of the once vibrant boy, reduced to a pale shell, lay etched in his mind's eye with brutal clarity.

His brother's jet-black hair, once tousled with youthful energy, lay matted with crimson streaks of blood in his memories.

The haunting sight of his ice-blue eyes, once brimming with curiosity and innocence, staring blankly at the endless expanse of the sky, devoid of focus or recognition was enough to make his blood boil in rage even now that he regressed, and the young child was alive.

Each detail of the scene was seared into Sebastian's memory with agonizing precision, a painful reminder of the cruel hand fate had dealt them.

It was a sight he could never forget, a wound that would never fully heal. But Sebastian had a chance now.

Together, they gathered around the table, their mother setting down plates of warm food before them.

With grateful murmurs, they ate. The simple act of sharing a meal together offered Sebastian a momentary respite from the weight of his life.

However, Mary wasn't stupid. She noticed something was weird with her older son. The look on his face was similar to that her husband, Argus, often had. But the woman refrained from saying anything.

"Are you ready to go to school?" Mary asked Sebastian.

"School? Ah… yes… I mean, no! I'm not going."

"You are not going?"

"No."

"Sebastian Wells, who said you could stay at home today?"

"M—me?"

"Exactly. Not me," Mary said. "You must go."

Sebastian frowned. Going to school right now was the last thing he needed. "Mom, forgive me, but I'm 17 now. I can take my own decisions with no problems," he said, trying to be reasonable.

"Being 17 doesn't mean you are mature enough to make wise decisions."

"Mom, really. I'm not going, not today."

Mary then threw a flip-flop to Sebastian.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"That's because I didn't like your tone."

After breakfast, Sebastian retreated to his room, his mind consumed by the burning desire to master the remaining pyromancer's skills.

Hours stretched into eternity as he tried to replicate other skills, but to his frustration, he lacked the mana to manifest them.

The realization gnawed at him like a persistent itch, prompting him to ponder the significance of the system's tiered approach to skill acquisition.

Perhaps there was a purpose behind the system's decision to give skills only after a certain compression level had been attained.

Yet, even as he grappled with this revelation, Sebastian couldn't ignore the inherent challenges posed by the intricacies of higher-tier skills.

Each attempt left him drained and depleted. Each skill was much harder to make every time a new compression level was made.

They became more powerful, but the way mana behaved became increasingly complex. That was certain, otherwise he would have already made a new skill by now.

<Maybe I just need more time…>

Sebastian sank onto the edge of his bed, a heavy sense of defeat weighing upon his shoulders.

Despite his efforts, every attempt to replicate the higher-tiered pyromancer's skills had ended in failure. However, a glimmer of insight flickered through the darkness of his frustration.

Since he had succeeded in manifesting a 0-tiered skill without the system's guidance, logic dictated that it was within this tier he should focus his efforts.

The problem was he only knew how to make one right now, Cinder Blast. He had not seen enough times other 0 tiered skills, belonging to other professions, to be able to replicate them from memory alone.

<This will take a lot of time.>