Today is the day for the Regular Physical Examination, which is mandatory for all Cradle students. Before the day officially started, I headed straight to the infirmary.
“Welcome.”
Waiting for me at the infirmary was an old doctor with a full gray beard, dressed in a white coat.
“There’s no need for me to explain the procedure, is there? You’ve probably gone through this before. Just head inside and—”
A massive machine emitting steam waited for me with its maw open like a ferocious beast.
After lying down inside it for about 30 minutes, the examination concluded quickly. What followed was the usual brief consultation.
“Hmm…”
Unlike last month, however, the old doctor with the gray beard furrowed his brows as he looked at my diagnostic chart, tilting his head slightly.
“How’s your condition these days? Are you feeling alright?”
After a brief pause, he asked a question I couldn’t quite understand.
“Condition… sir?”
“Yes. For instance, have you experienced any tremors in your limbs, blurred vision, or headaches… anything at all?”
“…I feel fine. My body feels light, and I don’t have any particular discomfort…”
After thinking for a moment, I shook my head.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
“Hmm, I see. Alright then.”
“But why are you asking? Is there some kind of problem…?”
“Oh, it’s nothing significant. I just had a few things to confirm.”
The doctor, who was stamping an approval on a document, shook his head as if it wasn’t a big deal. Then, he handed me a paper filled with various graphs and text.
“Can you see this? This graph shows your Physical Overload Level. It’s at a level typically seen only in veteran Experts who’ve fought countless battles. But you’re still a student who hasn’t even reached early manhood yet. That was just a bit curious to me.”
“So, does that mean there is a problem?”
The old doctor immediately shook his head.
“A temporary spike in levels can happen. Besides, haven’t you been through a lot recently? You’ve faced all sorts of situations, and naturally, your body was pushed to its limits. That could explain the results.”
“Ah…”
“Moreover, you’re not experiencing any particular symptoms, and above all, you’re still young. Just avoid overexerting yourself for the time being. Make sure to rest adequately, and you should return to normal soon.”
“Understood.”
“If you’re still worried, you can visit a private medical clinic in the capital for a separate diagnosis. If you want, I can write you a Medical Referral.”
“No, I doubt there’s a facility as well-equipped as the Cradle’s infirmary. If you say it’s nothing serious, I’ll trust your judgment, sir.”
“Heh, you’re painting this old face of mine with gold.”
Just as I finished the customary exchange of pleasantries and was about to leave, an unfamiliar term casually uttered by the old doctor caught my attention.
“Anyway, just keep that in mind and don’t worry too much. There’s no need to concern yourself with things like Collapse Syndrome or any of that nonsense. Goodness, the kid who came here yesterday kept wailing, convinced he had some incurable disease… only to be diagnosed with a mild cold.”
“Collapse… Syndrome…?”
“Hey, I told you there’s no need to worry.”
The doctor, now engrossed in his paperwork, waved his hand dismissively without even looking at me.
“Didn’t I just say? The probability of a Teenage Magician dying from collapse is far lower than being assassinated by demons. It’s even less likely than a Demon King targeting you. If you understand, you can leave now.”
“…”
Despite his confident words, I couldn’t shake off a lingering uneasiness.
Perhaps it was mere curiosity, but the term “Collapse Syndrome” stuck in my mind and refused to let go.
“Excuse me…”
“Hm? You’re still here? Did you leave something behind?”
“Actually, I have a question. About the Collapse Syndrome you mentioned earlier.”
After debating with myself for a moment, I turned back and addressed him.
“Could you tell me what it is? It’s a term I’ve never heard before…”
“…You’ve never heard of Collapse Syndrome?”
He crossed his arms and gave me a scrutinizing look, as if doubting my sincerity.
“If I recall correctly, even among the Predecessors of Heukryeon, two or three individuals succumbed to it. Did you neglect your studies despite your talent?”
“…My apologies.”
How would I even know about the affairs of someone else’s family? Although, at this point, calling them strangers feels a bit odd…
“Well, it’s not something I can’t explain. It’s always a pleasure to see someone eager to learn. Have a seat.”
He pushed aside a pile of documents and turned his body toward me.
“Collapse Syndrome. It’s exactly what it sounds like—a phenomenon where the body itself collapses.”
His explanation came swiftly, as if he had been waiting for someone to ask. Perhaps magicians and country old men share a similar need for someone to talk to.
“Our springs are composed of a very unique structure. You could call it a product of Rapid Minor Evolution.”
The old doctor adjusted his glasses as he continued his calm explanation.
“Thanks to this, the springs can stably contain particles, which are otherwise an unstable energy source. The particles stored in the spring are processed according to an individual’s unique traits and kept there, ready to be used for crafting a magic formula at any time.”
“You mean internalization.”
“Exactly. The limits of a spring define the limits of a magician. When the spring is depleted, it results in Particle Exhaustion, meaning one can no longer use magic.”
He nodded in agreement.
“However, it’s not entirely impossible to use magic even in such a state. A very small number of magicians are capable of bypassing the spring and using their bodies as a medium to draw particles and craft a magic formula.”
“…”
“But not everyone can employ such a method. It’s exceedingly rare—something only magicians who’ve honed their Sense of Energy over decades on the battlefield can achieve.”
The method felt vaguely similar to the way I use magic, yet distinctly different.
“That said, encountering such situations in everyday life is almost unheard of. Using the body as a medium to draw particles is highly discouraged, except in the most extreme circumstances.”
“Why is that? It seems like it could be incredibly useful if done properly.”
“The answer is simple. Without the spring, our bodies are inherently unsuitable for using magic.”
The old doctor raised a finger.
“Even if you manage to use magic that way, you’d be limited to a few minor spells at best. Depending on the individual, casting High-Order Magic just once might be possible, but anything beyond that would overload the body, making it structurally impossible. And the issue lies in the harm it causes, which far outweighs its practicality.”
“Harm… you say?”
“Of course, doing it once or twice won’t immediately end your life. In fact, it could be a good gamble. Isn’t it better to resist with every ounce of strength than to die helplessly? But…”
His words, while grim, were undeniably logical.
“Imagine a jar with dozens of cracks, so fine they’re almost invisible.”
The old doctor answered nonchalantly.
“That’s what our bodies become when magic is used even once through a medium other than the spring. On the surface, it may seem just as sturdy as before—and for the most part, it is. A few surface cracks don’t mean the structure is compromised.”
“…”
“But what if you don’t stop there? What if those dozens of cracks multiply into hundreds? What if the crevices that once only marred the surface begin to invade the skeleton?”
“What happens then?”
“Naturally, it would shatter completely under the overload and crumble into dust.”
“…”
“If there had been a large hole instead, the jar might still retain its form. But this is different. It doesn’t just break—it disintegrates into powder.”
“Powder…”
“No one would even remember that the jar ever existed. It would have already been scattered to the wind, leaving no trace behind.”
“…”
“Now do you understand? That is Collapse Syndrome.”
His tone remained casual, as if the matter was of no great importance.
“It’s the most horrifying and miserable death a magician can face, one that ultimately erases even their existence.”
***
Even as I walked through the hallway after leaving the infirmary, my thoughts were elsewhere.
‘That’s all there is to it. In any case, it’s not something you need to worry about. There hasn’t been a single case of a student dying from Collapse Syndrome in the past 100 years.’
That’s what the old doctor had said.
But that’s only because he doesn’t know about my situation.
I wasn’t born a magician. That fact hasn’t changed even now.
Although I’ve trained desperately, my current body is closer to that of an ordinary person than a magician.
Naturally, I don’t have a spring. As a result, I lack the internalized particles necessary to tame a crow like everyone else.
Not that I have any real complaints. I never imagined I’d live a life like this in the first place.
However, the old doctor’s words left me with something to think about.
In essence, every time I use magic, I am experiencing the overload he described.
It’s clearer to me now why the leader and my sisters always emphasized using High-Order Magic only in emergencies. While Low-Order Magic might be fine, the higher levels inevitably take a toll on the body.
If I really might die, as they kept making such a fuss over, I did promise to be careful… but unfortunately, it seems I haven’t been keeping that promise very well.
By now, my body probably already has at least a hundred fine cracks, just as the doctor described.
“Hmm…”
Well, as long as I’m careful from now on, it should be fine. It’s not like doing it a few times will kill me instantly.
Besides, I have to hold out for at least three more years, no matter what. I’ve decided to keep the promise I made to the Leader. After that… well…
“…”
Suddenly, as that thought crossed my mind, Yeon Minha’s face came to mind.
What to do? Yeon Minha already has more than enough on her plate, and lately, she’s been looking unusually exhausted.
…There’s no need to add to her worries, right?
With that thought, I was just on my way down to the Training Hall for the Sparring Evaluation.
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
The person I’d just been thinking about was standing still at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me.
At first glance, she seemed composed, but her eyes still carried an unmistakable hint of unease.