After that first battle, Non tinued fighting in several more. With each frontation, his name spread like an echh the camps, among soldiers and officers, as a prodigy in both bat and strategy.

  What had initially been a mix of skepticism and awe soon transformed into genuine respebsp;

  It wasn't just his physical prowess or his stra effective magic that caught attention; it was the decisions he made otlefield, the way he seemed to foresee enemy movements, and his precise choices that secured victory in each fight.

  It didn't take long for the higher-ups to notice his skills. The kingdom needed more leaders to guide its troops in such dark times, and Non seemed to be the perfect didate.

  Because of his performan the field and the victories he had helped achieve, he was assigned as general of a small troop.

  No one suspected that part of his success was not solely due to his natural talent for strategy. Every time he made a mistake iiation or pnning, Non rewound time.

  He didn't o go back far—just a few seds, enough to correct his course and make better decisions. Thus, little by little, he asded the military ranks, making perfect decisions, guiding his men with a precision that only he could uand.

  That's how the long and exhausting war finally came to an end. The kingdom's victory was celebrated in every er of the territory, and Non's merits did not go unnoticed. He had been key in many of the final battles, and now his name resohroughout the kingdom. So great was his reition that the king himself, impressed by his achievements, summoned him to the pabsp;

  The great hall was filled with nobles, advisors, and military personnel, all watg closely as ered. Before him, on his throhe king smiled and, with a solemn voice, offered him a position of great importan the court—a position of power that many would envy.

  But Noed it.

  "I deeply appreciate yenerosity, Your Majesty," Non said with a bow. "But what I desire most is a private pce, a space where I tinue my studies in magibsp;

  The king, surprised by his response, sidered his words for a moment, but seeing the determination in Non's eyes, he granted his request. He provided a rge mansion in a secluded area, along with a substantial sum of moo fund his researbsp;

  Non had gained fame, influence, ah, but none of those achievements mattered to him.

  His goal was clear: he wao go back to the day when his family had beeroyed.

  However, no matter how much he perfected his magiatter how much he refined his teique, he couldn't overe a barrier.

  No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't rewind time beyond one minute.

  That seemingly unbreakable barrier became his greatest frustration.

  At 29, after more than 16 years dedicated to research, he found himself stuck, uress.

  The memories of those who had told him that rewind magic was useless echoed in his mind.

  They had been wrong, for he had achieved much more than anyone had imagined. He had far surpassed the initial 5 seds, disc variations and ways to trol the flow of time. But now, after all that progress, he was faced with an insurmountable wall.

  Non remembered the words of one of his most loyal soldiers, a man who had followed his orders to the letter during the war.

  That man had been straightforward with him, warning him that if he tio obsess over his research, he might end up dying alone, regretting not having made the most of his life.

  Those words struck him hard now, because that man had been one of the few he could sider a friend.

  Yet his determination remained intabsp;

  He had to keep going.

  He had to return to the moment the dragoroyed his family. He couldn't stop.

  Not now.

  But then, one day, his own body betrayed him.

  While dug one of his experiments, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, something he had never experienced before.

  He tried to rewind time over and over, seeking to avoid the pain, but no matter how many times he did it, the atta his chest repeated incessantly.

  His body, worn out from years of effort and stant use of magic, had finally reached its limit.

  Desperate, after five failed attempts at rewinding, Non did something he had hought he would have to do.

  He asked for help.

  With the st of his strength, he opehe window of his study and shouted for assistanbsp;

  His voice echoed through the halls of his mansion, and, fortunately, some servants heard his cries and ran in his dire.

  Non, who usually didn't lock his doors, allowed them to enter. When he finally lost sciousness, he was quickly taken to a sanatorium.

  He woke up in a bed, bandaged and weak. He could barely move when a young priestess ehe room, her face kind and serene.

  "What happened?" Non asked, his voice hoarse.

  "You fainted," the priestess replied. "But fortunately, since you called for help, they brought you here in time, and we mao stabilize you."

  "What… do I have?" Non asked, feeling the weight of uainty in his chest.

  The priestess looked at him with passion, but her words were like a blow.

  "Your mana core is having issues. It's unstable."

  Non's world seemed to e to a halt.

  The mana core, the source of all his magic, was failing.

  If he lost it, he could no longer perform magid everything he had worked for, all his efforts to return to the past, would be meaningless.

  "What… what does that mean?" Non whispered, almost breathless.

  The priestess looked at him seriously, knowing that her response could shatter him.