It had been a long time since a certain mage rose to fame by defeating the demon that once threatened humankind. That legendary figure would later be remembered as the first Wizard King—a title that, generations later, became the highest honour bestowed upon a mage, entrusted with protecting the Clover Kingdom from all dangers.
…
…
March—a time when the air is warm and the soft fluffs of firefly dandelions drift gently across the breeze. It is during this season that the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony is held throughout the entire Kingdom.
After a modest meal, Julio joined Asta, Yuno, and the other members of the church as they made their way toward the towering Grimoire Tower.
Upon arrival, they found the area already buzzing with energy. Several youths from neighbouring villages and nearby cities had gathered, their faces lit with excitement and anticipation.
Amidst the crowd, Julio, Asta, and Yuno stepped forward.
"Whoa! So many people!" Asta exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.
"This is the only Grimoire Tower in the region," Yuno replied in a calm, composed tone, his gaze fixed ahead. "Everyone of age from the surrounding villages comes here. There's no need to make a fuss, Asta."
"Okay, okay. There's no need to quarrel over something like this," Julio sighed, stepping between them. "We came here to receive our Grimoires, not to argue about the crowd."
"Hmph! Just you wait, Yuno! Once I get my Grimoire, I'll defeat you!" Asta shouted, still fired up.
"We'll see who defeats whom," Yuno replied coolly, not missing a beat.
Watching the two go at it again, Julio could only rub his temple in exasperation.
Why does it feel like they're my younger brothers… even though I'm three months younger than both of them? he thought.
Soon, a tall and massive structure came into view.
Rather than a traditional building, it resembled an enormous chimney—cylindrical in shape, with no windows, and standing upright like a lone sentinel of time. The surface was weathered with age: dust clung to the bricks, paint peeled in long curls, and thick moss crept along the joints like veins on ancient stone.
Julio stared in silent awe.
Even though fragments of his previous life's memories still lingered—and he could recall the Grimoire Tower's appearance from images—seeing it in person was an entirely different experience. Comparing a flat 2D image to this living, breathing monument was like comparing hell to heaven.
As they reached the entrance of the Magic Grimoire Tower, none of them hesitated. One after another, they stepped inside.
What greeted them was nothing short of majestic.
Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with Grimoires of varying sizes and colours. The scent of parchment and old magic filled the air. At the top of the tower, a hollow clover-shaped emblem—the mark of the Clover Kingdom—cast radiant sunlight down into the room. The light filtered through the emblem, mixing with the towering shelves of ancient magic books, creating a surreal atmosphere of reverence and awe… even without a single spell being cast.
"Wow!! There are so many Grimoires here!" Asta shouted, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at the countless magic books stacked neatly on each tier of the towering bookshelves. "Which one is mine? This one? Or maybe that one?" He bounced on his feet, already lost in wild speculation.
At that moment, Asta wasn't the only one stunned. Nearly everyone in the tower stood in silent awe, their eyes wide as they took in the sheer number of Grimoires.
No one paid much attention to Asta's loud outburst—his excitement was shared by nearly all.
Julio took a moment to absorb the scene around him before glancing over at Yuno and Asta.
Normally, Yuno would have already snapped back at Asta's loud antics—but now, he didn't even look in Asta's direction. That alone said everything. He wasn't ignoring Asta out of indifference… it was nerves.
On the surface, Yuno always acted composed—aloof, even—like Asta didn't matter to him. But Julio could see through that.
Deep down, Yuno was always worried about Asta.
And rightfully so.
Asta, born without a shred of magic power, had little to no chance of being chosen by even the most ordinary Grimoire.
That, Julio knew, was what weighed most heavily on Yuno's mind.
As for Julio himself, he had no reason to worry—neither for Asta nor for his own future.
Asta is one of the protagonists, he reminded himself. No matter what the odds say, he'll receive a Grimoire. That's just how fate works.
And Julio? He could feel it within him—the steady hum of magic flowing through his body. His mana reserves were substantial, far beyond what most would expect. There was no doubt in his mind that a Grimoire would come to him.
Maybe even a four-leaf clover Grimoire… he thought, the possibility flashing briefly across his mind.
Suddenly, an old mage with a long white beard appeared high in the air, seated atop a floating magic carpet, his entire body radiating with green magic power.
He instantly drew everyone's attention.
The previously noisy hall fell silent in an instant. All eyes turned upward, filled with nerves and anticipation.
"Welcome, everyone who has come to receive a Grimoire!"
"May your journey ahead be filled with honesty, hope, and love."
The old mage's voice echoed gently through the tower. Though not loud, every word rang clearly in the ears of those present.
As he spoke, the old mage descended smoothly from the highest point in the tower, gliding down through the golden light before finally landing on the viewing platform at the front of the hall.
"I am the Master of this Grimoire Tower…" he said, pausing for a moment with a trace of emotion in his voice.
"There hasn't even been a single person here who achieved anything significant after joining the Magic Knights… let alone someone who became the Magic Emperor."
He let out a soft sigh, then continued, his gaze sweeping over the gathered youth.
"But I hope… that someone among you will rise up to claim that title!"
After his words of hope and reflection, the old mage gave a firm cough, snapping everyone back to attention.
"Begin the Grimoire Bestowal Ceremony!"
Feeling the intense anticipation in the room, the old mage smiled briefly, raised both arms high, and shouted:
"Let the Grimoires choose their masters!"
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Instantly, radiant beams of light erupted from the bookshelves, covering the entire interior of the Magic Tower.
One by one, glowing Grimoires rose into the air—each radiating magical energy—and hovered over the stunned crowd below.
Then, guided by invisible threads of fate, the Grimoires began to descend rapidly, flying straight toward their chosen recipients.
"So cool! Is this my Grimoire?!"
"Mine's bigger than yours!"
"Ha! But mine's thicker!"
"Finally! I can leave the village and go to the capital!"
Laughter, cheers, and shouts of excitement echoed throughout the tower. It was a moment of pure joy for most.
Yet not everyone smiled.
Some stood in silence, disappointment written across their faces—grimoires untouched, or receiving ones smaller and thinner than they had hoped.
After all, in this world, the size and thickness of a Grimoire was often seen as a reflection of one's magical potential…
While the hall echoed with cheers and excitement, as everyone celebrated the arrival of their Grimoires, Julio stood in quiet stillness.
In front of him, a Grimoire floated gently—yet unlike the others, it gave off no radiant glow, no shimmering display of magical light.
There was no four-leaf clover emblem, nor even a single clover mark to be seen.
"Is… is this my Grimoire?" Julio muttered, eyes narrowing slightly as his mouth twitched in conflicted surprise.
The book hovered silently, exuding an unmistakably heavy and oppressive aura. Its cover was a deep earthen black, rugged and ancient in texture, scattered with small and large golden dots, almost like constellations against a night sky.
But the most unnerving part of it all—not even a single clover graced its cover.
Not one.
It didn't belong to any known classification—one-leaf, two-leaf, three-leaf, or four.
It would not be an exaggeration to call it a clover-less Grimoire.
A book without classification. Without identity. Without origin.
And yet, despite its lack of a symbol—something every Grimoire was known to bear—it pulsed with a presence so dense and ancient; it made Julio's fingertips tingle just standing near it.
Julio let out a quiet sigh and accepted the reality before him.
A clover-less Grimoire… so be it.
He wasn't the type to panic over appearances—or let shallow judgments cloud his mind. If anyone thought the lack of a clover symbol meant weakness, they were fools in his eyes.
He could feel it—the Grimoire was powerful. And more importantly, he was powerful.
With the amount of magic I possess, even if this book only grants me the most basic spells… I could cast them so many times, no one would be able to keep count.
With that thought, Julio reached out to receive his Grimoire.
He still had some theories—speculations about the nature of this mysterious, cloverless book—and he needed to test them. The sooner he got back to the church, the sooner he could begin experimenting.
But just as his fingertips brushed the surface of the Grimoire—
BOOM!
A surge of torrential magic power exploded from his body like a tidal wave, rippling outward in all directions. The ground beneath his feet trembled. Nearby shelves rattled. Wind swirled violently around him, tossing loose pages and rustling cloaks.
Gasps rang out across the room.
"What the—?!"
"Whose mana is that?!"
"It's overwhelming!"
Julio's eyes widened slightly, more surprised than panicked, as the raw force pouring from his body spiralled around him uncontrollably. He hadn't done anything—nothing but touch the Grimoire.
And yet, his magic reacted like it had been set free from chains it didn't even know it had.
Author's Note:
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