Originally, John only had mana patterns within his head. According to Celia, that was a congenital defect — a sign of being born flawed.
But now, under the stimulus of the potion, those patterns in his head rapidly surged into view. And then, just like the roots of a great tree, they began spreading downward—through his neck, chest, and even into his limbs.
So… this was the effect of the potion?
No wonder they said: "The poor rely on mutation, the rich rely on technology!"
Even someone like him—whose talent was as miserable as it got—could gradually transform his bloodline and expand his mana patterns with the help of such a potion!
It had to be said—compared to leveling up, expanding one's nearly locked mana patterns was a much harder feat.
And now, such a miracle—like rewriting fate—was happening to him.
"Good… good!" John thought, heart pounding. "Let this transformation grow even more intense!"
Just as this thought formed in his mind, the mana patterns spreading across his body suddenly turned into something far more painful. It felt like they had transformed into steel needles, piercing through his flesh and bone, carving their marks deep into his body.
The excruciating pain—as if hot needles were stabbing into his nerves—made John curl up on the grass like a boiled lobster.
It hurt so much he couldn't even scream.
Instead, he dry-heaved in agony, his forehead veins bulging, and nearly blacked out from the pain.
"Old Jaque… you son of a—!! You tricked me!!"
John was inwardly cursing the old man a thousand times over.
Weren't potion users supposed to look all serene and enlightened when they took something like this?
Why was his experience more like being roasted alive?
Meanwhile, Old Jaque stood a short distance away, watching John's mana patterns take shape with a rare expression of surprise. The deep lines of his face stretched slightly as he murmured,
"Well I'll be damned… it's actually working?"
This "Pattern Potion" was a secret recipe he'd stumbled upon in his youth while traveling across the continent—rumored to alter the very magical structure of an individual. It could turn useless nobodies into rising stars.
At the time, he hadn't taken the recipe seriously. First, because the ingredients required were incredibly rare and costly. Second, because back then, with the arrogance of youth, he believed that those born with only a few magic patterns were destined to be trash. Better to let them stay out of the way, while real talents like himself carved legends across the continent.
But now…
Now that he regarded John as family, he thought—why not give it a shot?
John had always seemed… unusual. And judging by what was happening now, this potion really did work. It truly could change a person's magic pattern and reshape their fate—even if it came with excruciating pain.
He just had to trust that John could endure it.
"John! You always said you wanted to become a swordman, didn't you?" Jaque shouted with encouragement. "This is your chance! If you can endure this, you won't be someone with a crippled magic pattern—you'll be a gifted genius!"
"You're a man, aren't you? This kind of pain is nothing! I believe in you!"
Though his words sounded supportive, to John—curled up and sweating bullets—they felt more like petty revenge.
Was this old bastard still holding a grudge over that one time he accidentally gave him diarrhea?
Damn it! He'd been too trusting again!
But soon, John began to notice something—wherever the mana patterns had spread, the searing pain gradually started to fade. In its place came a subtle heat, and he felt the elemental energy of the world begin to gather toward him, flowing naturally into those etched patterns, strengthening his entire body.
His already sturdy physique was now being refined—like a blade tempered in gale-force wind. Black impurities oozed out of his pores, staining the grass around him.
Eventually—
As he teetered on the brink of madness from the pain, John suddenly opened his eyes—bloodshot, wild, and burning with clarity.
And in that instant, the entire world seemed to change.
All around him, elemental particles floated like fireflies. Every corner of the courtyard shimmered with energy he'd never noticed before. When he looked at Old Jaque, the old man appeared as an immovable mountain—indescribably dense and mysterious. That unshakable presence emitted an invisible pressure that made every mana pattern within John tremble slightly.
It was the instinctual fear and respect the weak felt before the strong.
John lowered his head and looked at his body.
His muscles—once only firm—now carried a bronze sheen, gleaming like sun-kissed steel, and practically overflowing with explosive power. Beneath his skin, dazzling magical lines shimmered and shifted, continuously drawing in elemental energy from the air.
He was no longer that crippled Awakener with a single mana pattern in his head.
He now had mana patterns flowing throughout his entire body.
This was what a true Awakener looked like.
"…The transformation is finally complete?" he muttered in disbelief.
Old Jaque studied him with growing interest. The transformation in John's bloodline talent would continue to grant him benefits in the future—especially for breakthroughs.
"With his robust physique, plus those upgraded mana patterns," Jaque mused aloud, "he should be able to ascend to Bronze Rank in one go."
But just then, Celia stepped into the courtyard. She glanced at John's condition and spoke with calm certainty:
"Judging from his foundation… he might just ascend to Silver Rank in one shot."
"Silver?" Old Jaque turned to her, wide-eyed. "You really think he can break through two ranks at once?"
"It's not about faith," Celia replied calmly. "His physique is already far beyond that of the average Bronze Rank warrior. If not for his crippled mana pattern, he would have been seen as a prodigy from the beginning. Now that the only flaw holding him back is gone, what's so surprising about a leap like this?"
As a Class Conductor, Celia had an exceptional eye for talent.
In her mind, John was like a bucket filled with water—yet one with a giant hole in the bottom. No matter how much water it held, it always drained out. But now, that hole had been patched.
Once repaired, that massive accumulation would erupt in one shot.
And when it did—his breakthrough and his combat strength would shock everyone.
Her serious tone made Old Jaque's expression grow heavier, and his curiosity deepened.
John may have grown up before his eyes, but there were still far too many mysteries about him.
His unusual swordsmanship.
His peculiar ability to… impregnate someone.
And now, Celia was saying that his body was stronger than a combat-class warrior?
If anyone could break two ranks in one go… it might just be John.
Back in the courtyard, John—who had recovered from the pain—suddenly felt the pull of mana patterns across his entire body. They eagerly absorbed the ambient elemental energy around him.
Without hesitation, he took a deep breath and focused his mind.
The elemental energy rushed toward him, swirling into his core. His body, already saturated with power, began to surge again. A radiant magical light burst from beneath his feet—
Bronze Rank Swordman!
The breakthrough was successful!
A wide grin spread across John's face. Despite all the suffering, Old Jaque had truly helped him step into the realm of swordmen!
But that joy didn't last long.
He quickly noticed that the mana patterns throughout his body were still drawing in elemental power.
Which meant—this breakthrough wasn't over yet.
His heart skipped a beat.
Was he… about to break through again?