I Have Time On My Side!

Nolan Rook was a child when he saw his world burn, reduced to ashes along with his family, his home, and everything he knew. 

The attack was brutal, sudden, like a wind of destruction that left nothing in its wake. He lost everything he ever loved. The faces of his parents, the screams of panic, and the flames consuming everything were etched in his memory—indelible images that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

He suffered all of this… because of a dragon. 

After the attack, he was taken in by knights and brought to an orphanage. Despite being surrounded by other children who had also lost something, Nolan felt alone. 

The loneliness didn't come from a lack of company, but from a deeper sensation: the feeling of being disconnected from everything. 

While the other children laughed or adapted, he observed in silence with a distant gaze, trapped in memories of when everything was fine. 

But it wasn't until he entered the academy that things began to change. 

Through rigorous exams, where others failed, he excelled. 

It wasn't just his intelligence but his determination that set him apart. 

He was determined to find something more, something that would give him purpose amidst everything he had lost. 

And it was there, at the academy, where his life took an unexpected turn. 

Magic fascinated him, but not just any kind of magic: it was time magic that captured his attention. 

Time magic wasn't popular. In fact, many considered it useless. 

Rewinding the world's time by just 5 seconds? 

That, plus the time it took to prepare that magic… seemed more like a bad joke, a trick with no real utility in times of war. 

After all, magic was a tool used to win battles, protect cities, and defeat enemies. 

What good was rewinding time by 5 seconds only to return to the same starting point? 

Using time magic required enormous preparation, both in terms of materials and the mindset the mage had to possess, coupled with the physical strain it caused afterward. 

In many ways, it was absurd magic. 

Everyone saw it as a silly exercise, something that wasn't even worth teaching in depth. 

However, Nolan didn't view time magic like the others. 

Where everyone saw limitations, he saw potential, despite everyone telling him that this magic was worthless. 

For Nolan, those 5 seconds could be something more. And if he could take that magic further… he could even change his past. 

That's why, despite the popularity he was gaining from his grades, he chose to pursue that path. While his classmates and even teachers ridiculed him from the moment they learned he had started practicing it, Nolan immersed himself even deeper into studying that magic. Ignoring invitations, outings, and gatherings with his peers… he sacrificed everything to invest every second in learning more about that magic. 

Nolan practiced both publicly and secretly, spending hours perfecting his control, experimenting with variations and techniques that no one else bothered to try. 

Over the years, aside from earning the nickname "The King of Déjà Vu," he began to notice something curious. 

The magic, which initially only allowed him to rewind time by 5 seconds, began to expand. 

The time it took to cast the magic to rewind time was initially 3 seconds if the incantation was done perfectly, but if you added the preparation time… it exceeded 40 seconds. 

In short, the magic was still useless. 

But… gradually, the rewind seconds increased. 

First, it was 5.1 seconds. Something Nolan didn't believe at first, but when it increased to 5.2… 5.3… 5.4… his excitement grew. 

Then one day, by mere accident, while Nolan was about to complete the spell to rewind time again, a nearby window opened and extinguished several candles that were essential for casting the spell. But, to Nolan's surprise, time still rewound, and he saw with his own eyes how that scene repeated, realizing that it was no longer necessary to use the preparations, thus saving all the time that made this spell seemingly worthless. 

And since that accident, Nolan noticed he could willfully use magic that slowed time around him while he moved normally, creating an effect where he appeared to move faster to external eyes, but it caused him tremendous physical exhaustion. 

This great progress excited Nolan, making him feel as if he had entered the realm of gods. However, he decided to keep this advancement a secret and to practice much more privately. 

And despite being forced to study other magical disciplines, primarily to prepare him for the inevitable war raging beyond the academy walls, he never stopped perfecting his mastery of time magic. 

He learned fire magic, but only enough to remain unnoticed. 

In his heart, he still trusted in his magic, even if no one else did. 

Years of practice and dedication granted him something that very few could even imagine. 

He no longer needed a wand to cast that spell. 

His connection with time magic had become so deep that he could manipulate the flow of time with just his will. 

Of course, there were limits, and this created various variations. Without the wand, he couldn't rewind as far back as before, but still, he had reached a level of control that no one else could even dream of. 

Then came the day. 

The day the war caught up with him. The academy was not just a place of learning; it was also a recruiting ground for future warriors. 

The kingdom was at war, and the need for mages at the front was desperate. 

All the students knew that eventually, it would be their turn to fight. And when the time came, no one was surprised when Nolan was assigned to a unit of mages. But what no one expected was his decision to fight as a knight. 

When Nolan announced he would go to the front with a sword instead of a staff, his classmates looked at him as if he had lost his mind. 

"A mage on the front lines…?" they murmured among themselves. 

It was madness. 

In battle, mages belonged in the rear, where they could cast their spells from a distance, protected by infantry and cavalry. 

Knights, seasoned in combat, were the ones who handled close combat, and there was no place for a mage with warrior fantasies amidst the chaos of an enemy charge. 

However, no one stopped him. 

The silence with which his companions let him go spoke volumes. 

Nolan, for his part, walked toward the front with the sword in hand and the weight of uncertainty on his shoulders. 

He felt fear growing in his chest, a palpable fear that threatened to cloud his senses at times. 

The echo of enemy horse hooves resonated in the distance, and he knew that every passing second brought him closer to the edge of death. 

Despite everything, there was something in him that remained steadfast, a certainty that set him apart from the others. 

He had time. 

'Few seconds can make the difference between life and death…' Nolan thought as he tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword. 

He was no longer like the rest. While others had only a moment to react, he possessed something more valuable. 

36.8 extra seconds, but without the wand, that amount was halved. 

Though he wasn't close to his goal, for now, it was enough. 

Just as the first sword came crashing down toward him, Nolan acted. 

He rewound time by only 2 seconds, just enough to see the attack once more. 

Now he knew exactly how his enemy would move, how they would twist their wrist at the end of the strike. And with that knowledge, he dodged with precision, leaning to the side just before the blade reached him. 

The seconds became his advantage. 

Where other warriors had only one chance, he gave himself several. 

He rewound 2 or 3 seconds, just enough to adapt and anticipate his enemies' movements. 

He did it punctually, like a perfectly tuned mechanism. 

He didn't abuse his power. He knew that if he rewound too much, he would have to wait the same time to use his magic again. 

That's why each rewind was measured with great precision. 

The enemy knights soon began to grow frustrated. 

To them, it seemed that Nolan had superhuman reaction capabilities, as he anticipated every strike or thrust. 

With time magic slowing everything around him, Nolan moved taking advantage of the world's slow pace, dodging attacks that would have been impossible for anyone else to avoid. 

Enemies watched him advance and retreat as if he were playing with them, and that confusion weakened them. 

At first, the knights from his own army looked at him with disdain. 

They believed that what he was doing was a selfish act, that his presence on the front lines was nothing more than a whim of someone who didn't understand the gravity of battle. 

However, they soon began to realize that Nolan wasn't just surviving; he was helping others. 

His alerts, his shouts warning of enemy movements before they occurred, were saving lives. 

At first, they had ignored him, but as more time passed… they began to admire him. 

The battle, which had initially seemed like an imminent slaughter, began to change. 

Little by little, the enemy knights, who had initially charged with strength and confidence, started to retreat. The shouts of their leaders, trying to reorganize their ranks, were drowned out by the chaos and confusion. 

With every step they took backward, Nolan's front and his companions advanced, unstoppable. 

The enemy, bewildered by the fierce resistance and precise coordination of the knights, began to fall one by one. 

Desperate cries for retreat started to spread among the enemy ranks. 

First, a handful of soldiers, then dozens, and finally the cavalry, which had been their most imposing force, turned on their heels and fled. The banners that had once waved proudly now fell, trampled by their own men in a panic. 

The battlefield, which minutes before had been a whirlwind of chaos and death, filled with a strange calm. And it was then that the voices of Nolan's army began to rise. 

"Victory!" shouted one of the knights, raising his sword to the sky. 

Soon, others followed suit. 

The victory cry resonated across the field, and within seconds, it transformed into a deafening roar. 

Exhausted soldiers, covered in sweat and blood, shouted with joy, raising their weapons in a sign of triumph. 

The massacre they had inflicted on the enemy was evident, and the fear they had initially felt when facing a much larger army faded, replaced by the euphoria of victory. 

Amidst the cheers and hugs, Nolan lowered his sword, breathing heavily. 

Fatigue was slowly catching up with him, the strain of using his magic over and over beginning to weigh on his muscles. 

Still, he remained upright, watching as the few remaining enemies fled into the horizon. 

Suddenly, he felt a presence beside him. 

A knight, with a face dirty from dirt and blood, looked at him with a mix of curiosity and admiration. 

Throughout the battle, Nolan had been an enigma. He had surprised everyone with his physical prowess and the precision with which he fought. 

No one, not even the most veteran knights, had expected such a thing from a mage. 

"Hey, you…" said the knight, an incredulous smile on his face. "What's your name?" 

Nolan, still recovering from the exertion, looked up at him. 

"My name…," he said, his voice firm but calm. "Is Nolan. Nolan Rook."