I was seven years old.
Which, in noble terms, meant I was expected to be... what?
Learning fencing? Memorizing boring family trees?
Maybe reciting ancient poems no one cared about anymore?
Pathetic.
Meanwhile, I — Fuoco Cattivo — was busy rebuilding the fundamental theory of magic from scratch.
You know. Casual.
It had taken two years to stabilize the freakish thing inside me.
My Devil core, originally a black, writhing thing of pure domination and destruction, had been forcibly merged with a second attribute: Holy magic — that blessed, sparkly, nauseatingly pure light.
It was like mixing molten lava with holy water.
Only somehow, instead of exploding in my face, it had crystallized into a unique dual-aspect mana core.
Darkness and radiance swirling around one another in a deathly dance.
(A work of sheer genius, if I do say so myself.)
But apparently, my soul wasn't done being stupidly ambitious.
Because now — now — I had succeeded in adding Fire into the mix.
And it changed everything.
I sat cross-legged in the secret training room underneath the Cattivo manor, the walls etched with layered barrier magic to contain any... accidents. (Not that I ever made accidents. I made spontaneous improvements.)
Mana flowed through me like a second bloodstream.
In the center of my chest, where my core floated, the three forces spun:
Devil, Holy, and now — Fire.
And not just slapped together, no.
Integrated.
Beautiful. Terrifying. Unprecedented.
And, more importantly — mine.
I let out a slow breath and opened my notebook, a thick tome bound in dragonhide.
Time to write down today's groundbreaking revelations.
Theory of Fire Magic:
(as rewritten by Fuoco Cattivo, future lord of all things flashy and destructive)
1. Nature of Fire Mana:
Fire, unlike Holy or Devil mana, is not ideological.
It is elemental — an unthinking, consuming force that responds primarily to emotions: anger, passion, willpower.
Where Holy is structured light and Devil is corrupted force, Fire is chaotic thermodynamics embodied.
It exists naturally in pockets around the world: volcanoes, lightning storms, the burning heart of certain mana beasts.
Most mages merely borrow it, channel it like a tool.
I, however, had chosen to internalize it.
A process few even dared to contemplate because:
Fire is inherently unstable.
Fire likes blowing things up.
Mana cores like not being blown up.
So combining it with two already opposed attributes?
Suicidal.
Unless, of course, you were me.
2. Method of Integration:
I hadn't forced Fire into my core like a blacksmith hammering iron into steel.
That would have been idiotic.
Instead, I studied the core's rotational structure.
Picture this:
A normal mana core spins like a star, radiating a single flavor of mana outward in smooth pulses.
My dual-aspect core spun in a complex pattern — two intertwined helices, one dark, one light, never touching directly but orbiting the same center.
In order to add Fire, I needed to introduce a third orbit.
It was like building a trinary star system: stable only if each component's mass and velocity were perfectly tuned.
Thus:
Devil attribute: heavy, aggressive, naturally centrifugal.
Holy attribute: light, inward-pulling, naturally centripetal.
Fire attribute: volatile, neither pulling nor pushing — flickering.
I adjusted the spin ratios by micro-crafting magic circles inside my own mana pathways, acting like gravitational stabilizers.
It was painstaking.
It was dangerous.
It was, frankly, brilliant.
Because once balanced, Fire didn't disrupt Devil or Holy — it wove between them, feeding on the tension, amplifying both without destroying either.
My core now burned with three distinct, harmonious layers:
Devil: black-red, oppressive.
Holy: gold-white, searing.
Fire: crimson-orange, wild.
A triune paradox.
My masterpiece.
3. Impact on Magic Circles:
And this, THIS, was where things got truly delicious.
Standard magic circles operate by channeling a single attribute through glyph sequences that resonate with that element's frequency.
Holy magic circles use simple, clean, symmetrical designs:
— Circles, crosses, radiant lines.
— Structure built for containment and purification.
Devil magic circles use sharp, chaotic designs:
— Spikes, inverted runes, chaotic asymmetry.
— Built for corruption, dominance, disruption.
Fire magic circles, when used alone, are spirals and jagged flows:
— Loops, serpentine curves, explosive nodes.
— Built for ignition, acceleration, entropy.
But nobody, in the history of ever, had designed a circle that handled all three at once.
Until me.
Through many (many) burnt eyebrows and minor explosions, I discovered:
The Secret to Multi-Attribute Circles:
You don't just overlay designs.
You synthesize them — layering runes at different depths, with each attribute's flow occupying a separate mana frequency.
Think of it like braiding invisible ropes of energy:
One tight and orderly (Holy).
One wild and shifting (Fire).
One heavy and dragging (Devil).
When properly braided, each component enhanced the others:
Holy provided structural stability.
Devil provided power density.
Fire provided explosive expansion.
Result?
A single, multi-aspect magic circle capable of unimaginable feats.
Spells that healed while corrupting.
Shields that burned attackers on touch.
Curses that could sear souls clean and mark them for damnation.
In other words —
Unholy Divine Incendiary Sorcery.
I closed the notebook and sighed, deeply satisfied.
A faint knock interrupted my revelry.
"Young Master Fuoco?" Millie's voice floated through the door, hesitant. "It's almost dinner."
I rolled my eyes.
There it was — the crushing tyranny of mortal needs.
Food. Sleep. "Socializing."
Bah.
Still, I couldn't terrify the staff too much yet.
A ruler needs loyal servants, after all.
"Coming," I called sweetly.
Packing away my notebook, I stood, feeling the pulse of power thrumming under my skin.
I was different now.
Stronger.
Faster.
Wiser.
Most seven-year-olds worried about bedtime.
I worried about the oscillation harmonics of trinary mana braids destabilizing under battlefield conditions.
Perspective.
As I left the training room, I caught my reflection in a passing mirror.
Golden-red eyes, faintly glowing.
Hair that refused to behave, now shot through with glints of crimson like embers caught in sunlight.
And a smile.
Sharp.
Knowing.
"World," I whispered to the empty halls, "you have no idea what's coming."