Ivan Seam

In Tiulyu, a quaint town nestled within the Common Realm of the Clover Kingdom, a slender, curvaceous teenage girl with wavy dark blue hair and navy blue eyes approached a house near the farming fields. She knocked gently on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation.

The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with brown hair, dressed in a simple white shirt and a dark robe draped over her shoulders. Recognizing the visitor, she smiled warmly. "Minerva, good to see you."

Minerva returned the smile. "Good morning, Lucy-san." She hesitated before asking, "Is Ivan ready?"

Lucy sighed wearily, stepping aside to let Minerva in. "He's still locked up in his room, as usual, buried in his research."

Minerva nodded, accustomed to this routine. "I'll go get him."

She made her way upstairs and stood before a closed door. Knocking gently, she received no response. With a resigned sigh, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was a chaotic mess of books stacked haphazardly, parchments with scribbled formulas scattered everywhere, and discarded magic tools piled in a corner. In the center of this disarray sat a young man with wavy, messy dark brown hair. His bangs, parted to the left, hung over one of his black eyes. He was engrossed in his work, writing furiously with a quill.

Minerva cleared her throat, snapping him out of his concentration. He looked up, surprised. "Minerva? Is it time already?"

She sighed again. "You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you, Ivan?"

Ivan chuckled sheepishly, standing up and eagerly showing her his papers. "But look! I finally created the magic circle for the counter trap!"

Minerva couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "That's great, Ivan. But we're going to be late for the grimoire acceptance ceremony."

Ivan's eyes widened in realization. "Oh no! I completely lost track of time!"

… 

Ivan hurriedly organized his papers, summoning a yellow virtual flat-screen panel along with a floating keyboard, both projected in the air. He meticulously checked to ensure all the data was recorded properly before turning to the patiently waiting Minerva.

"Alright, let's go!" He said with a determined nod.

Together, they made their way down to the Grimoire Tower at the center of town. As they passed by Lucy, Ivan called out. "See you later, Mom!"

Lucy turned to Minerva with a warm smile. "Join us later for the celebration."

Minerva nodded, returning the smile, and followed Ivan out the door.

As they walked through the bustling streets of Tiulyu, Ivan couldn't help but reminisce about the journey that had brought him to this pivotal moment. Fifteen years of life in a world he once believed to be a mere figment of imagination, born from the pages of anime and manga.

He had been Ivan Seam for as long as he could remember, a commoner in the Clover Kingdom. His mother, Lucy Seam, owned a small repair shop for magic tools, and had always been his rock, supporting him through thick and thin. His earliest memories included meeting Minerva Agria, his once shy neighbor who eventually became his closest friend.

From a young age, Ivan had been captivated by the beauty and intricacies of magic. When the time came to attend school, he had initially dreaded it, expecting a tedious routine. But his fears proved unfounded when he began training in mana control and discovered his magical attribute.

He vividly recalled the shock he felt upon learning of his [Archive Magic], a unique magic that allowed him to convert information into magical data. With his special magic, he could project virtual panels and keyboards to manage and control vast amounts of information. The surprise wasn't just in the magic itself but in its uncanny resemblance to a magic he knew from 'Fairy Tail', a beloved series from his previous life.

As Ivan and Minerva approached the Grimoire Tower, the bustling crowd of townsfolk and aspiring mages became more evident. People clustered into groups, their social hierarchies clear from their interactions and the finery of their clothes. Minor nobles, clad in luxurious fabrics, gathered together, casting disdainful glances at the commoners.

Among these nobles were some of Ivan's former classmates. Their eyes narrowed hatefully as they noticed his arrival. Ivan simply shrugged off their animosity, recalling how often he had bested them in the school's magic tournaments. His victories had wounded their pride deeply, and they had never forgiven him for it.

As they reached the entrance of the Grimoire Tower, Minerva looked at Ivan, her eyes filled with encouragement. "Ready?" She asked.

Ivan nodded, a confident smile on his face. "Ready."

Entering the tower, Ivan's gaze was immediately drawn to the rows upon rows of grimoires lined the towering shelves, stretching up to the very top. The sheer number of magical tomes was awe-inspiring.

His gaze soon landed on an old man seated on a flying carpet, overseeing the gathering of eager fifteen-year-olds. This was Kadmus, the headmaster of Tiulyu's magic school and the master of the Grimoire Tower, a figure well known and respected by all present.

Kadmus cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the grand hall. "Welcome, young men and women." He began, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom and authority. "Today marks the beginning of a new journey for you all. I wish you faith, hope, and love. Many of you aspire to join the Magic Knights, and I hope you all achieve your dreams. Now, it is time to receive your grimoires."

As if on cue, grimoires of all forms and sizes began to float from the shelves. Each one seemed to have a life of its own searching for its rightful owner. Excited murmurs and exclamations filled the air as the grimoires found their new masters.

Ivan watched in anticipation as a three-leaf clover grimoire, its cover adorned with a beautiful combination of pink, jade-green, red, and blue crystals, gently descended into Minerva's waiting hands. She smiled brightly, clutching her new grimoire to her chest.

Not long after, Ivan's moment arrived. A three-leaf yellow-covered grimoire, with lines intertwining in a pattern reminiscent of data streams, floated toward him. He reached out, his heart pounding with excitement, and the grimoire settled into his hands, feeling both familiar and powerful.