After the unexpected success of that small lemon candy, Joel was unable to contain the avalanche of thoughts that assaulted him. For hours, he mentally ran through all the memories of his past lives, searching for small objects that might be useful, plunging him into a true obsession with repeating that success.

  Each time his mana fully recovered, he would lock himself in his study, isolated from the world, trying to bring new objects into reality. Throughout the day, he repeated the process as many times as his body allowed, regardless of mental exhaustion or hunger. He only rested when his headache became unbearable or when one of the children expressed concern about his condition.

  He tried all sorts of things: rings, buttons, gem fragments, coins from other eras, keys, fountain pens, sewing needles, wooden dice, pendants… And with each successful attempt, he carefully documented the result: weight, texture, density, duration of the conjuring process, fidelity to memory.

  In just a few days, he came to clear conclusions. He could only materialize objects no larger than his closed hand and weighing no more than approximately 50 grams.

  The discovery was, at first, disappointing, as he had hoped to bring something more useful or powerful, but no, nothing happened when the object he tried to bring exceeded the limits of his current power. Joel felt an immediate blockage, and the connection wouldn't form. It was like trying to open a door that didn't exist.

  This led him to a much more precise conclusion: The spell couldn't begin if the object wasn't compatible with his current limits. There was no room for forced attempts or failed results; it was all or nothing.

  However, he soon noticed an even more intriguing detail: he could repeat the process. He was able to summon the same ring, from the same past life, up to five times in a row. Each one was identical to the last, with the same details, the same wear, the same tiny inscription on the inner rim that he had first seen in his dream.

  "It's not like I'm bringing them from somewhere else," he murmured, looking at the five replicas of the same ring on the table. "I'm creating them from my memories."

  It was at that moment that he asked Ariel for help, asking Nana what she perceived during the process.

  "She says that when you do it, your magical energy changes vibration," Ariel translated with a slight tremor in her voice. "That there's a part of you that merges with something that isn't here. Something that doesn't seem to exist and that slowly becomes real."

  Joel closed his eyes. He knew it wasn't a summoning, nor was it teleportation. It was recreation, or perfect copies born from his soul, from that living library hidden deep within his being. His mana was the fuel to create objects. And although for now he could only create small things, there was no longer any doubt: he had awakened a unique ability, one that could be quite significant in the future.

  Understanding the limitations of his ability, Joel calmed down considerably. The initial excitement of summoning any object from his dreams was replaced by a more realistic view: his power, for now, had very limited use.

  Except for the possibility of materializing small pieces of gold—in such small quantities that they barely made a difference—the only thing truly worthwhile was candy. And boy, did it prove to be.

  Joel soon succumbed to the nostalgic pleasure of the candies, gummies, and chocolates he remembered so fondly. The children loved them too, so they became a form of reward for them when he wanted to motivate them in their training or studies.

  But the best came when he remembered the powdered juice sachets of modern life. Weighing just a few grams and with very little volume, they were perfect for his ability. He only needed a little water and he had a fruit-flavored drink for every meal, becoming essential on the table.

  Joel couldn't help but dream of bigger things: a bottle of cola, a bag of chips, a sound system with varied music... But no, all those objects exceeded the limits of weight or volume, and his magic simply couldn't reach them.

  But there was one object in particular that Joel managed to materialize from his memories, and that, unlike candy, offered real and tangible value. An object that didn't exceed any of the limits of weight or size, and that evoked a past life marked by technology. A digital wristwatch, made of black plastic, with a small screen and a row of tiny buttons for basic functions. Not only did it display the time accurately, but it also had a built-in calculator, something that, for Joel, bordered on magic in a world like this.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Holding the watch in his hands, Joel felt a lump in his throat. It wasn't an expensive or especially rare object in his memories of modern life, but in this world, where even a mechanical watch was a rarity available only to nobles or wealthy merchants, this watch was almost a divine artifact.

  He examined it with great care, manipulating its basic functions while the screen glowed softly on his wrist. He soon noticed an unavoidable detail: the watch's language didn't match the language of this world. The symbols, words, and abbreviations were written in a language only he understood, which only reinforced the disconnect between the two worlds.

  Most surprising, however, was the discovery that the clock's time system coincided almost perfectly with that of this world. Days lasted twenty-four hours, and although there were minimal variations in the exact length of the hour, the margin of error was so tiny it was almost imperceptible.

  Joel stared at the small clock for a long moment, as if his power had suddenly taken a quantum leap. For the first time, he had something that was not only useful to him, but also connected him directly and palpably to the memories of another life.

  From that moment on, Joel relaxed considerably. With the digital clock safely stored away—and used from time to time to delight in its precision—he decided to keep his experiments with copying new objects under control. He knew, with unshakeable certainty, that the true limit of his power was his own mana reserve, and that sooner or later he would reach a point where he could bring back truly valuable and functional objects. He just needed time.

  The routine settled again, and Joel resumed his daily training, both physical and magical, concentrating on maintaining a balance between his activities. Visits from nobles and wealthy merchants continued, at a steady frequency that didn't interfere too much with the children's lives or his personal work. Nana, for her part, continued to evolve slowly thanks to the blood collected from each mage who crossed the threshold of the house, increasing her sensitivity, reaction speed, and depth of analysis of other people's mana.

  However, everything changed—once again—with an unexpected visit. In mid-morning, an elegant carriage pulled up in front of the house. Joel recognized it instantly; the sober lines of the crest on the side of the carriage, the colors, and the meticulous way the escorts disembarked gave him enough information before even seeing her face. Alicia.

  More than a year had passed since their first meeting, but her demeanor hadn't changed. She was still that refined and determined young woman, although now her gaze seemed even more confident. But what really surprised Joel wasn't seeing her again, but the reason for her visit.

  With a calm, almost solemn expression, Alicia handed him a letter sealed with Baron Celdrik's crest. Joel took it cautiously, breaking the seal with his tense fingers. The letter, written in the Baron's own handwriting, was clear and direct:

  “Dear Master Alexander:

  I am pleased to congratulate you on your growing fame among the noble circles of the Duchy. Your talent has been commented on not only by my daughter, but also by several of my colleagues who have acquired your works. I consider us to be an exceptional artist, and therefore I dare to make an unusual request.

  My daughter Alicia has recently awakened her magical potential and has expressed a deep interest in the sculptural arts. It would be an honor if you would agree to instruct her in this art, at least for a limited time, in the hope that she will not only refine her talent but also strengthen her character.

  I trust your judgment and extend my gratitude in advance.

  Sincerely,

  Baron Celdrik.”

  Joel read the letter twice, his brows slightly furrowed. Alicia was no ordinary young woman, and the fact that she now had mana made her someone with a great future. He didn't know if this request was a test, a trap, or a genuine gesture.

  He remained silent for a long time, his gaze alternating between the open letter in his hands, Alicia's expectant face, and the visible nervousness of one of the escorts, Paul, who kept scanning the house with anxious eyes. He could sense the tension in the air, but he didn't rush it; he needed to think.

  He understood perfectly what was happening. This request wasn't just a youthful whim on Alicia's part; it was a calculated move by Baron Celdrik, a carefully disguised attempt to get closer to him, now that his fame as a sculptor had spread beyond the county. For months, the flow of visitors hadn't stopped, and not all of them came because they liked art.

  Joel took a deep breath, showing no emotion. Internally, he quickly weighed the pros and cons. Teaching Alicia sculpture wasn't a problem; in fact, he rather liked her, and recognized that the young woman had a curious and determined nature, valuable qualities for any apprentice. What he didn't quite understand was what her magical potential had to do with the desire to learn an art as technical and meticulous as sculpture. Although he suspected that even Alicia wasn't clear on that point.

  What really bothered him was something else: the inevitable increase in people circulating near his home, especially the guards. The more people around the house, the greater the chance they would discover something they shouldn't, or worse, endanger Ariel, Liam, or even Nana.

  Finally, fully embracing Alexander the Sculptor's eccentric personality, Joel narrowed his eyes and let out a small, nasal laugh.

  "Very well," he said in a calm, theatrical tone. "I'll agree to instruct you... with conditions."

  Alice nodded, completely silent, as if she'd been prepared for it.

  “You may come most days, but only for a few hours, specifically during the morning. Where I will teach you the art of sculpture.” Joel raised a finger, as if marking a pattern that would not be negotiated. “I have no room for anyone else in this house. You will have to stay in the village if you wish to pursue this idea… And one more thing…” he added with a serious look. “I will not accept the presence of any guards on my property. They may escort you to the gate and nothing more.”

  Alicia didn’t seem surprised. In fact, a faint smile spread across her face. She took a step forward and responded with an elegant bow, without losing an ounce of composure.

  “I accept all your conditions, Master Alexander. I will cause you no trouble. Furthermore…” she took out a small leather bag, “my father authorized me to give you this initial sum for the lessons. Consider it an advance, as a token of goodwill.”

  Joel took the bag, weighed it in his hand, and decided not to open it right away. He nodded silently, although inside he felt a slight alarm ignite. It was all too easy and strange, but there were no signs of immediate threat. And for now, that was enough.