I Reincarnated As A Dragon With A Devourer System

Amanesis let the last runes vanish into the air, which eventually disintegrated into tiny particles of mana.

The little black dragon remained silent for several seconds; his mind was racing.

’So...’

’Did humans have to invent all of this from scratch?’

Amanises nodded calmly.

"Over countless generations."

Noir looked back at the spot where the magic circle had floated. He couldn’t help but feel a certain respect.

If dragons were born able to speak to the world... Humans had created an entirely new language to respond to them.

’That must have taken a really long time.’

"Thousands of years."

The answer came so naturally that Noir held his breath for a moment.

’...’

’Okay.’

’I take back the "really long" part.’

Amanises walked over to a stone table situated beneath one of the white trees.

Several objects lay neatly arranged on it: a small vial filled with a bright blue liquid, a silver-colored quill, several sheets of a material resembling parchment—though they gave off a faint glow—and, finally, a small transparent crystal.

Noir came over immediately. His eyes sparkled as if he had just discovered a treasure chest.

"Is all of this used for magic?"

"Yes."

The woman picked up the small blue vial.

"Human magic doesn’t start with a spell. It starts with writing."

The little black dragon tilted his head, confused. Writing? Was that even possible? So he just blurted out whatever came to mind.

"How do you write a letter?"

"More or less."

Amanises opened the bottle. Inside, there was no ordinary ink; the liquid seemed to move on its own, forming small, luminous currents.

"This is mana ink."

Noir took a small leap and rested his front paws on the table to get a better look at it.

"Is it manufactured?"

"Yes, liquid mana on its own is too unstable; it needs to be stabilized with various materials."

The woman picked up the pen.

"Not all inks are suitable for every spell. An ink prepared for fire will have a different structure than one prepared for water."

Noir’s red eyes widened; this was like stepping into a whole new world, because it meant there was mana ink for every type, making it practically infinite.

’Not even the ink is the same.’

’I’m starting to suspect that being a mage is pretty expensive.’

The golden sphere emitted a playful flash.

"It is," Amanises replied.

Noir immediately turned his head.

"Hey! You were supposed to answer when I was talking."

The woman smiled slightly.

"You did."

"..."

"Not out loud. But you did it."

Noir decided to ignore that little detail for the sake of his mental health. And to be much more careful with his thoughts.

Amanises carefully placed a sheet of paper on the table.

"Ordinary paper can’t hold a spell either."

She gently tapped the parchment with her finger.

"This was made from Mana Tree fibers, which are abundant here. It doesn’t absorb mana... it conducts it."

Noir studied the surface closely. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary scroll. But when he touched it with a claw... he felt a faint current of mana coursing through the material.

"Is it alive?!"

"No. Although some trees probably wouldn’t agree with you."

"..."

Noir decided it was best not to ask.

In that valley, any answer could very well be true.

Amanises then picked up the pen.

"Now comes the hard part."

She dipped just the tip into the ink.

"It’s not enough to simply copy a rune. The direction of each stroke, the pressure, the speed, the exact amount of mana. Even the moment you lift the pen... Everything affects the result."

Noir felt a slight chill.

’This doesn’t feel like writing anymore... It feels like surgery.’

The woman began to move the pen slowly. Each line gave off a faint blue glow. The runes appeared one after another with near-perfect precision.

They weren’t just drawings. It was as if each symbol had a life of its own.

Noir was completely captivated. For the first time, he realized that those magical circles weren’t just intricate decorations.

It was a language.

One that had been developed over thousands of years to bring us closer—even if only a little—to the True Words.

When Amanises finished the last stroke, she set the pen down on the table.

Absolutely nothing happened.

Noir blinked.

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"What about the spell?"

Amanises looked at him calmly.

"You just have to channel your mana into the spell, and it will activate. This is one way that novice human mages study magic."

She set the scroll aside and looked at the little dragon.

"Now comes the part you’ve probably been waiting for."

Noir’s red eyes lit up immediately.

"Yes!"

The woman raised an eyebrow slightly.

"You don’t need to respond with such enthusiasm."

"Yes, I do."

"..."

Amanises shook her head and walked a few meters through the garden.

The mana snow continued to fall slowly among the white trees, enveloping everything in an almost unreal stillness.

"Most wizards never create their own spells."

Noir tilted his head.

"Really?"

"That’s right. They learn spells that others developed before them."

That information came as quite a surprise to the little dragon, but he eventually found it reasonable.

"So, does a wizard spend his whole life learning magic created by other people?"

"Partly. Creating a new spell takes years of research. Most people study existing ones and refine them."

Noir nodded slowly.

’How to learn sword techniques... Not everyone invents their own style.’

Amanises slowly held out her palm.

"A spell requires three things."

She raised one finger.

"Mana."

A second finger.

"Control."

And finally, the third.

"A structure."

Noir listened intently.

"Without a structure, mana just disperses."

The woman let a small amount of blue energy escape from her hand.

For a few seconds, it floated in the air... Then it slowly disappeared.

"This is just mana."

Amanises reached out her hand again. This time, she closed her fingers slightly. The mana began to condense slowly, as if an invisible force were shaping it.

"Before casting a spell... a mage first imagines its structure."

"Imagine it?" Noir frowned slightly.

"Yes. Every spell takes a different form. If your concentration wavers..."

The small sphere of mana lost its stability and immediately dissipated.

"...So does the spell."

Amanises began gathering mana again. This time, much more slowly.

Noir closed his eyes. Thanks to his Draconic Senses, he could clearly sense the mana moving around the woman.

It was like watching a river; each current found exactly the place where it was supposed to be. Everything flowed with an almost impossible naturalness.

A moment later... A small sphere of blue light appeared in Amanises’s palm, gently illuminating the garden.

"This was the first spell I ever learned."

"Just... a sphere of light?"

"Yes. Every wizard starts here."

The little dragon looked disappointed.

’I was expecting something that would explode...’

The golden sphere began to spin around one of its horns, clearly mocking him.

"Don’t make that face. Most apprentices spend weeks trying to keep a sphere stable for more than ten seconds."

Noir looked at that tiny light again. Now it didn’t seem so simple anymore. Maintaining that shape required constant control of the flow of mana.

It was much harder than it looked.

Amanises made the sphere disappear. Then she stared intently at the little dragon.

"Now you try it."

Noir’s eyes widened, as if he hadn’t heard correctly; he even looked to the side and behind him. Seeing that no one was there, he pointed a claw at himself.

"Me?"

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