“Please, God. I pray this child is ‘Magicless’...”
Wait... is it better to have no magic?
Rest—the infant being held—blinked his tiny eyes in surprise at his mother's words.
They were in the temple at the heart of the town. A crimson carpet stretched down the center of the vast cathedral, leading toward a statue of a winged goddess. Cradled in his mother's arms, Rest sat before the divine image.
Isn’t magic supposed to be a good thing? Why would she want me to have none?
Even though he had only recently gained the strength to hold his head up, Rest tilted it in puzzlement.
Despite being less than a year old, Rest already possessed a fully developed sense of self. He was a reincarnated soul, a traveler from another world who retained the memories of his past life. In that previous life, he had been a high school student in a country called Japan.
He hadn't been blessed with a good family back then. His father had been a drunk—a textbook piece of trash drowning in a gambling addiction. His mother was no better, neglecting him to live a life of decadence with various men. He had lived in such a miserable environment that it was a miracle he’d survived into his teens at all.
And then, that life had ended in a flash.
He had confronted his father for trying to steal the tuition money he’d saved from his part-time jobs. The argument had turned into a violent struggle, ending when his father stabbed him to death with a kitchen knife.
Rest had died cursing his wretched fate... but it seemed a god had truly been watching. When he next woke, he found himself in a world far removed from Earth, cradled in the arms of a new mother.
I’m glad I was born to such a kind woman this time... though it looks like my father is a piece of work in this life, too.
“Hurry it up. I’m a busy man,” a voice spat irritably.
The man stood a short distance away. Though he was dressed in fine clothes, his face looked high-strung and pinched. His hair was slicked back into an immaculate, oil-hardened style. This man was Rest’s biological father.
“Don’t waste my time over a simple Mana Diagnosis. Just get on with it,” he said, his expression twisted with disdain.
There was no doubt about the blood relation, yet this was the first time Rest had ever seen him. The reason was simple: the father was a nobleman, and the mother was a destitute commoner.
The man had raped his former maid, an act of violence that had resulted in Rest’s birth. Once she had the child, she was tossed out of the mansion with a pittance and forced to raise him alone. She had managed to scrape by as a single mother, working long hours at a bakery... but the moment Rest turned one, this man had suddenly appeared.
He had dragged them both to the temple, demanding a Mana Measurement from the priest.
“...My lady, are you ready?” the priest asked, reaching out with a look of concern. “Please, hand the child to me. Do not worry; the Goddess is watching over him.”
“Priest... please. I leave him in your care.”
With trembling hands, the mother held Rest out. The priest took the infant with practiced gentleness.
“Please, Goddess. I pray he is ‘Magicless’... Please, let him have no magic at all...”
As soon as she let go, the mother clasped her hands together and began to pray with desperate fervor. Watching her, Rest gave a small, internal nod.
I hear you, Mother.
Focusing his will, he forcibly suppressed the mana surging through his body. Perhaps it was a gift of his reincarnation, but Rest had been born with an immense reservoir of magical power—and the innate ability to control it perfectly.
It’ll be okay. So please, don’t cry.
“Under the grace of the Goddess, let the power of this blessed child be revealed. Eri Era Ildana, Great Goddess of Light, I pray that a bright light shines upon this child’s future...”
The priest chanted the incantation over the boy. The goddess statue began to glow, and Rest’s body was enveloped in a soft, shimmering light.
“...I see.”
The light faded after a few moments. The priest nodded deeply, a gentle smile spreading across his face.
“It appears this child possesses no magical power. The diagnosis is ‘Magicless.’”
“What...?”
The father’s brow furrowed in blatant displeasure. He clicked his tongue loudly and stomped toward the priest.
“He may be a bastard born of a commoner, but he carries my blood—the blood of a Court Mage. Are you sure you aren’t lying to me on that woman’s behalf?”
“I swear upon the Goddess herself that the result is accurate,” the priest declared.
For a man of the cloth, such an oath was absolute. The father continued to scowl with suspicion, but he found himself unable to press the matter further.
“...I suppose a barren field can’t produce a decent crop. What a pathetic waste of my time.”
The man looked at Rest and his mother as if they were filth stuck to the bottom of his boot.
“Had he possessed significant mana, I might have brought him back to the estate to be raised... but I have no use for Magicless trash. Do whatever you want with the brat.”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you...!” the mother cried.
“Hmph.”
The father pulled a small cloth pouch from his pocket and tossed it onto the stone floor. It landed with the heavy clink of coins.
“That’s the last you’ll get from me. I forbid you from ever coming near my house again, and I won't have that child using my name. We will never meet again. Farewell.”
Without another word, the man turned and strode out of the temple.
“Rest...!”
The mother rushed to take her son back from the priest, pulling him into a crushing embrace.
“Thank you, Goddess... Thank you so much...!”
“The Goddess sees all,” the priest said softly, making the sign of the cross. “May her blessing remain upon this child.”
As he was squeezed tightly, Rest let out a small, slightly pained breath, but he looked up at his mother and smiled. He finally released the grip he had on his mana. Power surged up from the depths of his soul once more.
If he were to undergo a diagnosis right now, the results would be night and day compared to the previous measurement.
The guy might be a noble, but I can’t imagine a single scenario where being raised by him leads to a happy ending. I’d much rather stay with Mother, even if we’re poor.
He’d never known the love of a parent in his first life. But in this one, he had a mother who would cry and beg the gods for his sake. His father might be the same kind of trash as before, but this life was already looking much, much brighter.
Feeling his mother’s warmth, Rest closed his eyes and drifted into a comfortable sleep.