I can expand my MAGIC ENDLESSLY?!-Chapter 4: Too weak

"Oh... I believe this is a sigil of solidness."

’Sigil of Solidness, good enough,’ Kairos thought.

After a while, the old man checked the rest, but no answer came.

The old man put down the papers before looking at him. "Don’t worry, Young Master... I believe our library has more details... I will check on them. Young master, you already have a sigil of Nullification. You shouldn’t feel disheartened."

"Yes," the Baroness said softly. "Leave it to me."

She turned, her "Everyone, leave. He needs rest. And bring me five more recovery potions."

The maids hurried to obey, returning a moment later with the potions before quietly slipping out, leaving mother and son alone to talk.

She asked about his well being and measured his temperature. And told him not to use his odd element.

He can see that she’s really worried about her son.

But he also felt awkward, as this person wasn’t his mother, and he was old enough to become her father.

He died at the age of 73. Baroness approximately around her mid-thirties.]

"I will keep that in mind, Mother. To not use the odd element."

She was telling him not to use the odd element, as it’s quite dangerous, and some stuff about not worrying about the unidentified sigils.

"I’ll ask Master Kaelen to start your training tomorrow," the Baroness said with a soft smile.

She ruffled his hair gently.

"Your father will be proud," she whispered. "And so am I."

Kairos turned his head away slightly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. She chuckled quietly, watching him for a moment before turning to leave.

At the doorway, "Rest well."

Kairos stared at the door, his hand brushing through his messy hair. The warmth he’d felt just now... it was unfamiliar. Not to be accurate, the sensation the body had... In his past life, he’d never known what it meant to be cared for.

An orphan, a survivor, warmth had always been something he watched from a distance, but at second thought, the warmth slowly slipped away.

He let his hand fall to his side, clenching into a fist. He didn’t know what had happened to the boy who once lived in this body.

No memories, no clue what happened. But still, faces of his comrades, the lord he served, his disciple, the unfortunate fate awaiting in the future...

He spoke in a low voice. "If you can hear me... if taking your life is a sin I must bear, then I will carry it."

"From this moment on, I am Kairos.

Kairos Nozvan...

"From this moment on, I am Kairos.

Kairos Nozvan ..."

Images surfaced—crises, one after another, echoing through his mind.

This time, he thought, I won’t let it end the same way.

His hands trembled. He clenched them into fists.

"Too weak," he muttered. "I can’t even manage the basics like this."

All that hard work gone, just like that.

His gaze fell onto the recovery potions his mother had left behind. He reached for one without hesitation. Just feeling the glass texture and the coldness its quite the price.

He popped the cork, gulping it down in one go. The bitter taste was familiarly unpleasant, yet reassuring in its own way.

Warmth spread through his limbs almost immediately. He didn’t know any mana circulation technique, Thus he had to let his body recover naturally, absorbing the potion.

He waved his hand, He can gauge it would take at least half an hour for his body to remove this soreness.

Rolling his shoulders, feeling the tension loosen slightly, Kairos dropped down.

This was the perfect moment to train while the potion effect was kicking in slowly.

Push-ups. Something simple. But highly effective in gathering strength.

He could see right away the original owner didn’t put much effort into training the body, and it is mostly suited for a mage.

But he can’t let that happen. His sword was his lifeline. He has to train on it no matter what happens.

He knows it might cause some suspicions, but he didn’t care. He was in a new body without any memories. The instinctive nature and mind won’t be the same. Changes are bound to be noticed. Thus, it’s better not to hide it and be himself within the boundaries.

"One..." he grunted, arms shaking beneath his weight.

"Two..." Sweat was already forming on his brow.

By the time he reached five, his shoulders were burning.

"This is... just miserable," he growled, forcing out a sixth, his chest barely lifting off the floor. The potion he took already started acting, reducing his fatigue.

He positioned himself again. ’If I have to rebuild it from scratch, so be it.’

He wasn’t the same man who had died at seventy-three. This was a second chance. And if he had to crawl up from the bottom, he’d do it.

"Again..." he said under his breath, rolling over and pushing himself up once more.

"One... two... three..."

---

Bits of sweat rolled down from his forehead... while outside, the sun was about to rise. He had been pushing his body to the maximum limit.

With all those recovery potions, his body recovered far more quickly, including his stamina, making him able to continue his training all this time.

He took a deep breath in, puffing his chest before exhaling it out.

His right arm bent down while his left stretched wide and lay flat. He lowered his chest slowly before gritting his teeth, pulling upward. He then switched his weight to his left hand. The second dip felt heavier, but he still managed to finish it before collapsing on the ground.

"Agh... it’s excruciating," Kairos gasped.

But he’d done it.

One full Archer push-up completed with trembling arms and burning muscles. Sweat soaked his body, the fabric of his shirt clinging tightly to his skin.

He collapsed onto his back, panting.

"Still... worth it," he muttered between breaths.

At least now... maybe I’ll be able to perform the Opening Fang of [Three Fang swordsmanship]. It was one of the core things he was able to learn despite not having mana.

Kairos uncorked the last recovery potion and drained it in one gulp, feeling some strength return to his battered body...

The sun was about to rise. Thanks to the potions, he wasn’t completely drained, but a heavy, stubborn fatigue still clung to his mind.

"Better to sleep for an hour or two," he muttered.

He staggered to the bed and collapsed into the soft mattress, unconscious within seconds. But his exhaustion ran deeper than he’d thought.

He didn’t wake in an hour. Or two.

But six hours of sleep...

---

Tuk tuk!

Ughh! Kairos covered his ears before burying his head underneath the pillow.

"Let me sleep a few seconds more before the monster attacks."

"What are you talking about, Young Master!? Monsters?... Open the door, it’s me, your personal maid, Emilia."

He frowned... thinking in his sleep. When did I have a maid?... Then slowly, memories started to return, and he opened his eyes wide open. The view of the disheveled room reappeared before him.

Yeah, right. He has died and regressed into this child’s body. He wasn’t the Mercenary King anymore. He’s a noble now. He’s Kairos Nozvan.