A Genius Boy Who Was Exiled From His Family Home for “Not Being Able To Use Magic” Becomes a Witch’s Apprentice and Masters All Magic in the Right Way. This Is How You Use Your Magic, You Know?

Chapter 2. Life At The Bottom Of The Pit

Father’s demeanor changed drastically within the day.

“You, a disappointment like you, are unworthy even to remain in the main estate!”

“Ugh!”

Hermes found himself dragged by the collar by his father, Zenos, and thrown into a cellar far removed from the main Frembleed estate.

The only source of light in the dim room was a small candle.

Between Hermes collapsing on the dirty floor and his father looking down at him with icy eyes, there lay thick iron bars.

Yes, it was a cell.

It’s a place intended for prisoners, which served as Hermes’ new dwelling.

“Hmph. Just the thought of living under the same roof and breathing the same air as someone like you makes me sick.”

“F-Father!”

Since being informed of his evaluation results, Hermes had felt somewhat detached from reality.

However, being thrown into solitary confinement by his father finally brought him back from the shock, making him begin to understand the situation.

Will I spend the rest of my life in a place like this?

Imagining that future filled Hermes with intense revulsion, and he pleaded with his father in a voice filled with despair.

“I’ll try harder! I’ll double my magic training. I’ll do whatever you say! I’ll definitely become a great magician as you wish, so please—”

“Silence, you defective product!”

But even such a plea was brushed off with a disdainful reprimand.

“A ‘great magician’? How do you intend to do that without inheriting bloodline magic?”

“Well, that’s—”

“Listen, Bloodline Magic is a gift bestowed upon us by the Star God, a great innate gift. You’ve been abandoned by the Star God. That’s because you’ve not received the Bloodline Magic. It’s absurd for someone with noble blood but no aptitude to exist. You’re not a prodigy. You’re synonymous with a demon!”

He knew it well.

In this country, especially among the nobility, one’s status is largely determined by their proficiency in magic.

Stories of people born into low ranks rising to power with strong magic were plentiful.

Conversely, those who lacked magic often fell from grace just as swiftly.

“Having magical prowess alone is worthless. You’ve made me foolishly hopeful for nothing!”

Yesterday, his father, who had been kind, suddenly changed. He unleashed a hatred Hermes had never heard before, one he had never been exposed to since birth.

Bearing the brunt of it today, Hermes’ heart gradually succumbed to dark despair.

“Being grateful for just providing meals and a bed, that’s all you should be. You’re suited to squat there for the rest of your life!”

“Wai—”

His final words were left unheard as the iron bars slammed shut with a deafening clang.

His father, who seemed about to leave, suddenly turned back.

“Oh, right… If by some miracle you do manifest Bloodline Magic, I might consider letting you out. But that’s highly unlikely.”

With that muttered remark, his father’s footsteps finally receded into the distance.

◆

From that day on, Hermes’ life took a drastic turn.

First, meals. They only provided 2 per day: a soup made from hard, moldy bread and vegetable scraps left to simmer.

Compared to meals at the Frembleed estate, even leftovers wouldn’t have looked like this. It was treatment akin to that of a mere prisoner, designed solely to wear him down.

And then, the bed. A lumpy, hard floor with only a thin blanket.

For Hermes, accustomed to the finest beds, it was torture, taking him months to get used to even sleeping on it.

Few people visited the cell, and those who did usually had no good intentions.

Most frequent among them was his father, Zenos.

“Ugh, it’s infuriating! I was ridiculed at the evening gathering again! I’m utterly embarrassed every time! And it’s all because of you!”

It seemed his father had been boasting about Hermes’ talent everywhere, and since the rumors of Hermes’ lack of aptitude had spread, he became the subject of ridicule.

“Prince Astor, your age mate, has awakened Bloodline Magic befitting the royal family, showing glimpses of being the next ruler in both name and reality. And what about you! You were supposed to stand next to him, and the Frembleed family was supposed to regain its glory! Don’t you understand, you failure?!”

Zenos vented his frustration on Hermes, lowering his own stress a bit before leaving without listening to a word.

That exchange between father and son became the norm after that day.

Next most frequent was Hermes’ five years older brother, Chris.

“Hey there, dear Hermes! Today, big brother will give you a magic lesson for your pitiful sake!”

His voice was artificially filled with sorrow. It was clear from his distorted smile of superiority and mockery that his intentions weren’t as they seemed.

“What’s wrong, Hermes? This is a golden opportunity for you to see the bloodline magic you’ve been yearning for up close! Come on, wake up!”

Chris von Frembleed.

He possessed exceptional magical talent befitting the heir of the ducal family and should have succeeded the Frembleed family smoothly as the eldest son.

―And yet, he had lost his entire future because of Hermes’ existence.

From the time Hermes was born until he turned seven, Chris had been completely ignored by their father, Zenos.

All the accumulated dissatisfaction, inferiority complex, and hatred towards his younger brother erupted the moment Hermes was deemed unsuitable and Chris was reinstated as the heir apparent.

“Now, let me show you. This is the power of one chosen by the gods, unlike you!”

Unlike Hermes, Chris had inherited the Frembleed family’s magic properly.

He performed the activation chant to awaken it, followed by the declaration of the magic’s name, loud and clear.

“‘Six are the holy bows, one is the magic bullet, their strings are the weapons of false gods!’ Bloodline magic—[Mistle Teinn]!”

In an instant, a swarm of light bullets appeared behind him, illuminating the entire area of the underground cell.

The sheer amount of energy contained within was evident from the brightness.

And without hesitation, Chris aimed those light bullets.

“This is how you use my magic! Don’t try to dodge it, or you won’t awaken to bloodline magic due to the shock!”

Slipping through the gaps in the iron bars, every single bullet hit Hermes as announced. He got thrown against the wall, but he didn’t die. Nor did he lose consciousness. He was being carefully kept from either by being tortured.

“How pathetic, Hermes. But this is only fair retribution. You’ve been getting too cocky despite not being chosen. I’m just executing the punishment you deserve. You must agree, right?”

“…Br…oth…”

Hermes pondered with a hazy consciousness. Maybe he did.

Regardless of getting cocky or not, he had indeed disregarded his brother.

He knew his brother was being ignored in the house. But he was too caught up in the joy of receiving his father’s praise. And more importantly, in his enjoyment of magic to care.

So, if he was now receiving this treatment as punishment from his brother for that, perhaps it was justifiable.

He tried to say so, but he didn’t have enough energy left to speak.

Seeing Hermes like that, Chris glanced at him with boredom and sighed.

“…Well, whatever. You just stay here and watch. I’ll become the head of the Frembleed family in your place, the great magician you wanted to be! Hahaha!”

Chris flaunted his magic to Hermes, venting all his pent-up resentment, and left.

No one in the house stopped Chris’ outrageous actions. With their father Zenos not only silent but even encouraging, no one had the right to intervene.

Hermes’ spirit gradually wore away in a life worse than the bottom of the pit.