I Became the Youngest Prince in the Novel

TL/Editor: Rungir

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Silence fills the room, broken only by the soft scratching of chalk on the board. Zion writes with steady hands, explaining a complex idea that had puzzled minds for ages.

The interaction between space, time, and gravity magic - a riddle yet to be solved. In the realm of magic, these were the concepts hardest to grasp, with little clarity on any aspect.

There were no full answers within the reach of current magical knowledge.

'But soon...'

Zion recalls the old records. In less than two years, right before a war with the demonic forces, a perfect solution to this puzzle emerges. He knows about this breakthrough thanks to its mention in the chronicles.

'The records rarely detail formulas like this.'

This particular formula was exceptional, pivotal to the course of the chronicles, like the search pattern used to unearth a hidden demon in the old chamber.

Zion glances at Tirian Friharden, whose face reflects shock and curiosity.

'He's intrigued.'

He had to be.

After all, the formula Zion is scribbling was his creation - not the Tirian of now, but of the future. Despite his lazy nature, Tirian held a fascination for magic related to space and time. It was an obsession that carried over even after reincarnation.

'He held onto this interest from his past life, not dropping it even after his reincarnation.'

Tirian enrolled in these classes to gather even the slightest hint on the topic. In the future, meeting a hero sparks a renewed interest in space-time magic research for Tirian, and he achieves significant results.

This formula, currently being written by Zion, is his starting point. Although the formula doesn't have an immediate effect, it offers a solid answer to the preceding theory and becomes the foundation for all related research thereafter.

'Perhaps seeing this might awaken something in him sooner.'

Zion punctuates the final part of the formula, his thoughts on Tirian. The classroom is in awe, their eyes fixed on the board - on Zion's formula.

In the silence, their bewildered eyes tremble.

"What... what is this...?"

Professor Gardner, responsible for the 'Pure Gravity Anomaly and Magical Understanding of Space' lecture, mutters in disbelief, his words slicing through the silence.

Gardner, who has spent nearly his entire magical career on this topic, understands how earth-shattering the solution Zion has just penned on the board truly is. A formula that dismantles established theories and ideas, yet perfectly answers the question Gardner had posed.

'This is a first!'

And indeed, it is.

Even the Empire's esteemed magical society, 'Levrion', had been unable to solve this riddle. This formula signifies a new way of thinking.

'I need to jot this down!'

He doesn't fully understand the chalked formula yet, so recording it is his first priority.

"Pen, paper!"

Gardner grabs a paper and pen from a student in the front row and starts copying down the board's formula. Seeing Gardner's urgent reaction, the other professors and students also scramble to note down Zion's solution.

'Zion Agnes, you truly are...'

Priscilla's gaze lands on Zion, her eyes filled with awe and admiration. She's seen Zion sketch a magic circle before, and every display of his talent leaves her stunned.

His abilities seem limitless.

And this sparks Priscilla's curiosity.

'But...'

As she admires Zion, she also feels a barrier she could never cross. Her eyes dim at the thought.

"What is this..."

Unlike her, Essian flickers his eyes between Zion and the board, too flabbergasted to write anything down. He can't make sense of the chalked formula, but the professors' reactions tell him this is no ordinary solution.

How can this be?

The scene unfolding feels like watching a novice swordsman split not a boulder, but a whole mountain.

"He claimed he hadn't learned any magic..."

Disbelief laces his murmured words.

Step by step.

Zion slowly walks towards Essian. All eyes in the room follow his movement. As Zion closes the distance, Essian begins to tremble, a visible shiver running through his body.

And it's not just because his scheme has crumbled.

As Zion gets closer, his dark eyes become clearer, and the ominous depth they hold weighs heavily on Essian.

'Did I dare mock such a person?'

The pressure, now palpable, makes Essian's legs retreat automatically.

Why hadn't he noticed this intimidating presence before?

"You see."

Zion, who had now closed the gap between him and Essian, met his gaze and softly began.

"I dislike being put to the test."

"Uh...."

Essian, overwhelmed by Zion's intense pressure, crumpled to the floor the moment the prince finished speaking. Zion simply observed him in silence. To Essian, he seemed like a predator sizing up its trapped prey.

How long did the stifling silence last?

'No need to linger, he'll meet his fate soon enough.'

With this thought, Zion broke his gaze from Essian, slowly making his way towards the classroom exit.

His task was complete; there was no reason to linger.

"Prince Zion! I'll accompany you!"

Professor Proud, who had been oscillating between the chalked formula and the unfolding scene, trailed after Zion.

Only when Zion had entirely disappeared did the classroom break its silence.

Among the students frantically noting down the board's formula,

"Zion Agnes..."

Tirian Friharden quietly focused his gaze and murmured Zion's name.

---

---

The room Zion had entered was steeped in an antique charm. Sitting at a table in its center, he tilted the coffee cup placed before him.

"...Not to my liking."

His brows knitted slightly at the taste. In the world of the chronicles, coffee was a rare luxury for Zion, making him particularly discerning.

Quietly setting his cup down, Zion surveyed the room. This was the Imperial University Magic Tower's exclusive reception room, open only to VIPs.

There was one reason for Zion's presence here: the Tower Master of the Imperial University Magic Tower had returned, and Zion was there to meet him.

In fact, this encounter was possibly more important to Zion than seeing Tirian Friharden.

Just then,

Knock, knock-

A knock sounded at the door.

A venerable man entered the room.

"I apologize for the wait, Prince Zion."

The man's hair and beard were long and snow-white. His crinkled face, home to a hooked nose, wore a gentle smile. His pristine white robe served as a symbol of his magic prowess.

At the sight of him, Zion's eyes sparked. The man matched the description from the chronicles, just like Tirian.

Ahmad Ozlima.

He was the Tower Master of the Agnes Empire's University Magic Tower, a renowned magician standing on the verge of the 9th level, privy to the world's arcane secrets.

Numerous titles described him - the Magician of Annihilation, the Endless Seeker of Truth, the Alabaster Emperor - but one phrase accurately captured his might.

'The Fifth Heaven.'

In this world, the term 'Seven Heavens' referred to the seven most powerful entities, irrespective of race or field, and excluding magic.

The elder before him was recognized as the fifth among these heavens.

Indeed, he was one of the strongest in the chronicle of Frosimar in this era.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Prince Zion. I was focused in the formula you penned earlier. Truly astounding, an enlightenment even for me. When did your mastery of magic reach such an extent?"

Ahmad, now seated opposite Zion, spoke with a warmth and casualness that didn't fit his imposing titles, similar to a kind-hearted elder from one's neighborhood.

"And where were you off to?"

Zion, unable to elaborate on his magic prowess and not intending to, diverted the conversation towards Ahmad's whereabouts.

As far as he knew, Ahmad rarely ventured out of the tower.

If he did, it must have been for a important cause.

"I had to address a minor family matter. Nothing of concern, I assure you."

Zion caught a momentary shadow cross Ahmad's eyes as he spoke.

Ahmad's family, the prestigious magic lineage of Ozlima.

A clan hailed as the paragons of magic, holding sway among the empire's top five.

It was also the maternal lineage of the third prince, Enoch.

Zion, who harbored a slight opposition towards Enoch, could have felt apprehension, but his gaze held none.

'Ahmad would never exploit his power for familial or political gain.'

The renowned magician before him had no interest in his family or power struggles.

More accurately, he detested them.

Hence, he had disassociated himself from his family twenty years prior, assuming the role of the university tower's head. Since then, he had devoted himself to nurturing the future generation, severing all extraneous activities.

His visit to the Ozlima family today likely aimed at deterring their persistent overtures.

"Is that so? Then shall we proceed to the matter at hand?"

Zion, responding with a chuckle, was about to broach the reason for his visit.

"Wait a moment. I have a question for you."

At Zion's words, Ahmad lowered his gaze.

"What might that be?"

"Prince Zion, do you believe in the essence of a person?"

"..."

Zion remained silent, letting the old magician's voice fill the room.

"I believe in it. In fact, after piercing the secrets of the world, I believe I've glimpsed a fragment of such an essence."

Ahmad's gaze locked with Zion's.

"I've observed you in the past, Prince Zion. I distinctly remember the essence I perceived within you then. It was unforgettable, a distinct hue unlike any other prince or princess."

However, the essence he discerned within Zion now was entirely altered.

More accurately, it felt as if he were gazing into a void.

What he beheld was an abyss of black, like unilluminated emptiness.

"A person's essence, much like fate, is unchangeable. Should that essence transform, then we must concede that the individual is no longer the same."

In the eyes of the Grand Magician, a bearer of fragmented truth, a profound aura began to spiral, its depths unfathomable.

"Prince Zion, or should I say, who are you?"

A gentle question flowed from Ahmad's lips.

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