Muted silence filled the small room, broken only by the faint rustle of paper and the occasional clink of glass. Evening coolness drifted in through the half-open window, yet the scent of mana elixir still lingered in the air.
Kael sat motionless directly on the floor, legs crossed and back straight. Around him, a vortex of gray mana slowly swirled, making the notes scattered across the table stir almost imperceptibly. At tis, several sheets would rise higher than the others, lazily swaying in the air before slowly settling back down.
Beside his knee lay an empty mana elixir vial. Caught by the fluctuations of mana, it occasionally rolled slowly across the floor, quietly clinking against the wooden boards.
But Kael had long since stopped paying attention to such trifles.
All his attention was focused on the circulation of mana within his body as his lips repeated the words of the Mantra of the Primordial Void barely audibly.
“Void…” he exhaled softly, maintaining the rhythm of his breathing.
Sweat slowly ran down his neck, and the sleeves of his robe had already begun sticking slightly to his skin, yet Kael remained motionless, circulating mana through his body again and again.
ntally, however, he was in a completely different place…
✦ ✦ ✦
Before Kael’s inner gaze, there was nothing.
No light, no images, not even the sensation of his own body. Only endless darkness, stretching in every direction, slowly consud his consciousness while Kael himself gradually dissolved within it, losing the familiar sense of boundaries between himself and the void surrounding him.
But the process brought no fear.
On the contrary, with every new cycle of the mantra, his consciousness sank deeper into that strange state of calm detachnt. It felt as though the Void itself was slowly accepting him, allowing him to rge with it, if only for a brief mont.
At the sa ti, Kael observed the changes within his own body.
He could feel his mana core slowly changing under the influence of the Canon of the Primordial Void. Its smooth surface was gradually becoming covered in fine ridges resembling strange patterns and script that had not yet fully manifested.
At tis, a dim gray glimr would run along those lines, after which they would fall silent once more, as though sothing inside the core continued to slowly take shape.
✦ ✦ ✦
But at that mont, Kael’s consciousness seed to abruptly snap back into his body.
A short pulse spread from the mana core through his channels, causing the vortex of gray mana to instantly disperse. The sheets of paper slowly settled back onto the table, and the swaying vial beside him finally ca to rest, leaving the room in its usual silence.
Kael took a slow breath and just as slowly opened his eyes.
For several seconds he simply sat motionless, feeling the residual pressure of mana within his channels, before raising a hand to his chest over his heart.
“I can see you’re pleased, Libero…” he quietly muttered.
Kael could feel that Libero, too, was gradually growing stronger, slowly synchronizing with the changes in the mana core. Over the past few weeks, Libero had been awakening from his dormant state more and more often, responding to Kael’s cultivation far more actively than before.
Kael exhaled thoughtfully, feeling a faint heaviness in his chest.
“Marks are already beginning to form on the core…” he said quietly, lowering his gaze. “At this rate, in just a few more months I’ll finally surpass the Channelweaver stage and beco a Marked Mage…”
Thinking about that and considering his own age, Kael ntally added, “That’s an incredible result even by the standards of the Capital, but…”
Kael fell into deep thought, continuing to feel the faint pulse of mana near his heart.
“To travel between the dinsions of the Mortal World and cross Divine Walls, I need to beco a Mortal Monarch…” he thought, frowning slightly. “Essentially—equal in power to the Emperor himself.”
Thinking about the pace at which mages advanced on the outskirts of the Mortal World, in distant dinsions like the Human Dinsion, he grimaced slightly.
“I can’t spend two hundred years walking that path…” he calmly continued reflecting, slowly leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
Silence settled over the room once more. Only the laughter and conversations of tavern guests drifted in from outside the window.
“Even to enter the Emperor’s inner circle and gain access to information about the Organization of Shards, I’ll need to beco at least a Domain Mage…”
At that mont, a clear outline of the path ahead seed to form before Kael’s inner gaze.
At the bottom stood Kael himself—a Channelweaver Mage.
As his gaze rose higher, Kael calmly began listing the next stages, as though reminding himself once more just how enormous the journey ahead truly was.
“Marked Mage… Soulbound Mage… Spiritual Mage… Domain Mage… Spiritual Weapon Mage… and Mortal Monarch…”
Rising to his feet, Kael slowly straightened, feeling a faint heaviness in his muscles after the prolonged circulation of mana.
“There’s still a long road ahead…” he quietly muttered, casting a glance at the notes scattered across the table.
So of the sheets still lay scattered across the floor after the surge of mana, while the empty elixir vial had rolled nearly all the way to the wall. For several seconds, Kael simply stared at the ss before calmly heading toward the room’s exit.
“Thankfully, things at the Academy are going perfectly,” he ntally added as he opened the door. “Once I finish my studies, I’ll be able to figure out a way to earn far more money. And with that, his training would beco much more effective as well.”
Such thoughts had long since beco habitual for him.
With that thought in mind, Kael stepped out into the short second-floor corridor. The sll of roasted at and alcohol imdiately drifted up from below, accompanied by the loud conversations of guests and soone’s drunken laughter.
But the mont he reached the stairs and descended a few steps, particularly loud female voices suddenly rose above the general noise.
A crooked smile imdiately spread across Kael’s face.
“Though my success does have a downside…” he quietly muttered under his breath.
At that mont, the tavern’s main hall finally ca into view.
As in the past few weeks, nearly every table was overflowing with Academy students. And stranger still, there were once again far too many girls here today.
The mont Kael reached the bottom of the stairs, several pairs of eyes imdiately turned toward him. At one table, soone let out a quiet gasp. At another, muffled giggles rose up, and soon the familiar whispers began spreading through the hall.
“That’s him…” one of the girls quietly said, leaning toward her friend.
The other raised a brow, curiously studying Kael from halfway across the hall.
“That’s really him?” she whispered back. “I thought he’d look more manly…”
“Idiot, he’s only sixteen,” the first girl hissed back with slight irritation, casting another glance toward Kael. “Take a closer look at him. In a few years he’ll beco genuinely handso.”
“Especially the eyes…” a third girl at the table added thoughtfully, resting her cheek on one hand. “He always looks tired and annoyed. But sohow… it suits him.”
At those words, the second girl looked at Kael again, this ti much more carefully, before narrowing her eyes slightly as a sly smile slowly spread across her face.
“You know… you’re actually right…” she drawled, propping her chin against her palm.
“And appearance isn’t even the main thing,” the first girl almost imdiately added, noticeably more animated. “It’s only been a month since he was allowed to attend the general lectures, and he already excels at everything. Even in military training.”
“And he constantly debates with professors…” one of the girls at a neighboring table giggled quietly. “And the worst part is that he’s usually right.”
anwhile, the third girl adjusted her long red hair slightly before throwing Kael an openly flirtatious glance.
“Just imagine if he really manages to pass four exams at once…” she whispered to her friends. “The last ti sothing like that happened was ten years ago…”
The first girl rely snorted confidently, as though such an outco did not even seem doubtful to her.
“If? I’m sure he can.”
“You believe in him too much,” the second girl said with a smirk.
“You just haven’t crossed paths with him in lectures,” the first imdiately shot back. “Professor Reynar is thrilled with him.”
“Reynar? The one who’s considered one of the strictest alchemy professors?” the red-haired girl asked in surprise.
“Mhm. And judging by his tone, the Alchemists’ Guild is already thinking about how to recruit Kael.”
Conversations like these could now be heard at many tables.
It felt as though Kael had gradually begun gaining a special kind of influence within the Academy. So much so that so students now genuinely ca to the “rry Drunkard” just for a chance to see him in person.
Watching all this, Kael rely let out a heavy sigh and muttered, “I really need to graduate from the Academy already. This kind of attention is exhausting…”
But at that mont, a familiar female voice spoke up nearby: “You’ve beco quite the eligible bachelor, Kael.”
He calmly turned around, almost imdiately spotting Violet leisurely descending from the second floor.
A faint smile played on her face, while her long violet hair had been casually draped over one shoulder. Several students imdiately began glancing in her direction as well, but Violet herself seed utterly unconcerned with the attention.
But despite the calm smile, faint irritation flickered deep within her eyes.
Kael rely gave a faint smile in return and calmly replied, “An eligible bachelor? What are you talking about?”
Violet raised a brow slightly and nodded toward the crowded hall.
“Don’t play dumb. Look how many girls are staring at you.”
Kael deliberately swept his gaze across the tavern before playfully raising his brows.
“Really? I hadn’t even noticed.”
Several girls at the nearest tables imdiately looked away, while one of them puffed out her cheeks in annoyance after hearing his answer.
But Kael had already turned back toward Violet again.
Stepping closer to the stairs, he bent his arm slightly, offering her his elbow as he said, “I suppose when you’re nearby, all the other girls simply stop existing for .”
Violet rested her hand on his arm as she descended the final step, then quietly snorted.
“Your sweet talk doesn’t work on .”
However, the faint blush spreading across her cheeks suggested otherwise.
And judging by how several girls around the hall visibly soured at the sight, Violet was far from the only one to notice it.
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Kael rely smirked before leisurely guiding Violet through the noisy tavern hall toward the staircase leading to the basent level.
“Let’s go see how Gilsh and the girls are doing,” he calmly said, deftly sidestepping one drunken student who nearly crashed into them with a mug in hand.
“I was heading there myself,” Violet replied, without even letting go of his arm, allowing Kael to lead her onward.
As they approached the stairs, Violet suddenly frowned slightly, as though rembering sothing important.
“By the way, you should talk to Gilsh. The forge was only completed two days ago, and he’s already started skipping lectures at the Academy.”
Kael rely nodded in understanding.
“Let him enjoy himself for a few days,” he calmly answered. “He promised that once he finishes his first creation in the new forge, he’ll stop skipping lectures.”
Violet quietly snorted.
“And you believed him?”
“Gilsh may be obsessed with blacksmithing, but he keeps his word,” Kael replied with a faint smile. “Especially when he’s made a promise to .”
Violet rely nodded, clearly hopeful, as though she genuinely viewed Gilsh’s success as her own responsibility.
At that mont, they began descending the spiral staircase toward the underground floor. The noise of the tavern gradually faded behind them, though Violet suddenly turned slightly, accidentally eting the eyes of several girls in the hall.
And judging by their expressions, she was drawing just as much attention as Kael himself.
So looked openly displeased. Others did not even bother hiding their irritation.
For a mont, a faintly provocative smile appeared on Violet’s lips, as though she suddenly found herself enjoying the attention. But the very next instant she calmly turned away again, continuing downward beside Kael as though nothing had happened.
Kael himself did not seem to notice any of it.
“I’m more worried about the girls,” he thoughtfully continued. “Working in a forge… they might not enjoy it.”
At that, Violet rely smiled softly.
“You’re mistaken. This entire past week they’ve been diligently studying the notes you gave them. I’d even say Lissandra and Roselle were looking forward to the forge opening just as much as Gilsh was.”
Hearing that, Kael raised his brows slightly in surprise.
And Violet, noticing his reaction, quietly chuckled before adding, “They trust you completely. And if you said they have talent for blacksmithing, they wouldn’t even think about refusing.”
At that, Kael rely nodded calmly.
“They’re talented enough to develop two specializations at once,” he said, opening the door and stepping into Barnabas’s workshop, which currently stood empty. “Roselle could easily pursue the martial path as well, while Lissandra could go into alchemy. But for now, let them train together with Gilsh.”
The familiar scent of grain, wood, and strong alcohol lingered inside the room. Rows of barrels stretched along the walls, while tools and distilling equipnt were arranged across the long tables, so of which Barnabas had clearly dismantled only recently.
But barely had Kael finished speaking when loud laughter suddenly rang out from the far side of the workshop, followed almost imdiately by Roselle’s excited shout.
There, behind the rows of barrels and the massive distilling apparatus, was the door leading to the new forge.
Kael exchanged a glance with Violet and gave a slight nod in that direction.
“Let’s hurry.”
At that mont, Kael finally released Violet’s hand, and the two of them quickened their pace, swiftly crossing Barnabas’s workshop toward the far door, from which voices and the ringing of tal still echoed.
The mont they opened the heavy doors, a wave of dry heat struck them full in the face.
Before them stood a small but skillfully crafted forge. The stone walls had been reinforced with tal plates, and racks of tools stretched along one side of the room. Near the far wall, a blazing furnace humd steadily, filling the space with the sll of coal, heated tal, and hot oil.
But their attention was drawn not to the forge itself.
Three mages were hard at work in the center of the room.
Gilsh, completely absorbed in the process, stood before the furnace bare-chested, holding a glowing tal billet with long tongs, its surface now shining a vivid green. Sweat glistened across his skin, while faint flashes of mana occasionally coursed over his massive arms.
A short distance behind him stood Roselle and Lissandra.
Their hair had been tied into tight buns at the backs of their heads, and strips of cloth wrapped around their foreheads had already darkened slightly with sweat. Their loose work clothes had been tightly fastened and noticeably shortened, leaving their arms and most of their legs exposed so the fabric wouldn’t get in the way near the furnace.
And at the mont, both girls looked unexpectedly focused.
“Just a little more!” Roselle shouted excitedly, sharply directing a stream of fire mana straight into the furnace.
The flas inside imdiately flared brighter, and the glowing tal billet in Gilsh’s tongs glowed even more intensely, gradually shifting toward an almost whitish hue.
Gilsh watched it all with the delight of a child allowed to touch a real treasure for the first ti.
“Push harder, you lazy brats!” he roared, only to burst out laughing himself a second later.
But in the very next mont, more sincerely, and with clear excitent, he added, “Girls, thanks to you I’ll be able to create sothing I never could’ve made on my own!”
Then he quickly threw a glance toward Lissandra.
“Get ready, Flower!”
Apparently, Gilsh had already co up with a new nickna for her.
But the usually shy Lissandra did not even react this ti. All her attention was focused on the massive steel reservoir before her, inside which a murky green liquid bubbled and churned.
She continuously channeled mana into it, causing the acid’s surface to bubble more and more furiously while thick greenish vapor rose above the container. However, it did not spread throughout the forge—streams of air imdiately caught the fus and, with a low hum, pulled them toward the wide exhaust vent beneath the ceiling.
The mont she noticed the changes in the solution, Lissandra sharply lifted her head.
“Big Brother Gilsh, the acid has reached the proper concentration!” she quickly shouted.
And the instant Lissandra’s words echoed through the forge, Gilsh straightened abruptly, lifting the glowing tal billet from the furnace in one swift motion.
“Final quenching!” he nearly bellowed.
The next mont, he forcefully plunged the glowing blade directly into the murky green liquid.
The reservoir instantly exploded with a loud hiss.
The acid boiled furiously, and tongues of greenish fla imdiately spread across the surface. Acrid steam burst upward, but the exhaust runes built into the ceiling instantly glowed brighter, drawing the fus into the ventilation channels.
But Gilsh did not seem to notice anything happening around him anymore.
A wide grin spread across his face as he carefully watched the reservoir, whose walls gradually began to glow with runes.
And at so point, it beca possible to see streams of mana slowly being drawn into the blade through the murky liquid.
Even Roselle froze involuntarily.
The forge suddenly grew quieter.
All three of them, holding their breath, watched the quenching process, not even noticing Kael and Violet standing nearby.
The liquid continued to churn for several more seconds, though the boiling gradually began to subside until the reservoir’s surface finally cald completely.
Almost at the sa ti, Lissandra and Roselle tiredly raised their hands, wiping sweat from their foreheads.
Gilsh, on the other hand, stepped closer to the reservoir with an expression as though it contained not a weapon, but a priceless relic.
Slowly gripping the blade with the tongs, he carefully began lifting it out.
A long blade gradually erged from the murky liquid, its tal marked by beautiful dark patterns running along the blade. Thin veins of mana faintly shimred between the layers of steel, as though dull energy flowed within the weapon itself.
And the mont Gilsh fully saw the result, he practically roared in delight, “We did it! Ha-ha-ha!”
Quickly setting the finished blade onto a tal stand, he imdiately tossed aside the tongs and turned toward the girls. In one motion, he swept both Lissandra and Roselle into a hug, shouting:
“We actually did it!”
Caught off guard, the girls cried out at first, but the very next mont they started laughing together with him, nearly jumping with excitent.
Only after a few excited jumps did they finally notice Kael and Violet standing at the entrance.
Roselle was the first to freeze abruptly, after which embarrassnt quickly spread across her face. But it lasted only an instant—the very next mont she hastily pulled herself together and nearly ran up to Kael, grabbing him by the wrist.
“Kael, look!” she blurted out with poorly concealed excitent, practically dragging him toward the stand holding the blade.
Without resisting, Kael stepped closer, carefully examining the weapon.
A faint heat still lingered across the tal’s surface, causing a thin haze to rise from the sword. The dark patterns running along the blade resembled cloud formations, while veins of tempered mana ore were embedded between the layers.
For several seconds, Kael silently studied the result of their work before nodding in approval.
“Excellent work, everyone.”
Hearing the praise, Gilsh imdiately broke into a broad grin, while Lissandra noticeably straightened, as though even the exhaustion from the long hours of work had begun to fade.
Kael himself continued examining the weapon even more closely.
“Once the sword is fully finished, it should sell for a high price,” he thoughtfully remarked, carefully touching one of the dark lines in the tal with his finger.
anwhile, inwardly, he added, “It’s not yet at the level of elite weaponry, but the quality and durability are excellent. Training weapons wear out quickly and require constant replacent… If we price it fairly, students will buy this sword very quickly…”
Then he slightly raised his gaze toward the others.
“Most of our custors are students and soldiers. I think we could set up a few stands for your products right inside the tavern. I’m sure things like this will quickly beco popular.”
At those words, Gilsh and the girls almost simultaneously smiled proudly.
Especially Gilsh, who now looked as though he could already see his forge overflowing with orders.
Then Violet unexpectedly stepped forward.
Everyone almost simultaneously turned toward her.
Violet slowly approached the stand with the blade before quietly adding, while gazing at the dark sword, “It’s the first blade forged in our ho. It would be better if it remained as a symbol of our bond.”
After those words, a brief silence settled over the forge. Everyone focused on the blade, as though suddenly seeing sothing far greater in it.
Kael, anwhile, unexpectedly smiled warmly.
“A wonderful idea…” he said calmly before lifting his gaze slightly. “Then let’s hang this sword above the entrance to the tavern. What do you all think?”
Roselle almost imdiately nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! That would look absolutely amazing!”
“I’d like that too,” Lissandra added quietly, carefully brushing back a loose strand of hair.
Gilsh, anwhile, stared silently at his own creation for several seconds before suddenly breaking into a wide grin.
“Then that’s what we’ll do! And if old man Barnabas resists—we’ll just get him drunk and force him to agree!”
✦ ✦ ✦
At that very mont, on the opposite side of the road, directly across from the “rry Drunkard,” another restaurant stood.
The establishnt looked expensive and well-kept: wide windows, lacquered wooden walls, a sign with gilded lettering, and neatly dressed waiters swiftly moving between the tables. There were plenty of custors inside as well, though it still fell far short of the noise and crowds filling Barnabas’s tavern.
Especially now.
At one of the most luxurious tables by the window sat Valkeris, surrounded by several lackeys. Before him stood an almost untouched bottle of expensive alcohol, while nearby a short man in an expensive dark suit stood with his hands nervously clasped behind his back.
Valkeris shot him an irritated look and coldly said, “I gave you enough money to lower your prices. Why is that dump next door still popular?”
The man visibly shrank beneath his gaze.
“Lord Valkeris…” he cautiously began. “Their food and alcohol are unique. Even after lowering prices, we only managed to lure away so of their guests. As I ntioned before, their advantage was never low prices to begin with…”
“Then co up with sothing else,” Valkeris interrupted irritably, leaning back in his chair. “Or should I begin doubting your competence?”
“N-no, my lord! We’re already looking for other ways…”
Valkeris waved his hand dismissively.
“Get out.”
The man imdiately bowed awkwardly and hurried away, clearly unwilling to remain near Valkeris for even another second.
And at that mont, a rough voice suddenly sounded from the side, speaking the Imperial tongue with a heavy accent: “Kael cursed human… Not enemy for sches. He destroy authority of my family. And then he still puppy. He only need killing.”
At those words, Valkeris turned in surprise.
The speaker was Aiden.
One of Lasthold’s elite, who had once considered himself the pinnacle of the hierarchy, was now just an ordinary lackey. He sat slightly hunched, as though afraid of Valkeris, yet even so, all his hatred was directed toward the “rry Drunkard” tavern. It almost seed as though he were staring at Kael through every wall and obstacle between them.
Valkeris narrowed his eyes slightly, studying him for several seconds before coldly saying, “We are not savages like you.”
He lazily swirled the glass in his hand and continued, “It’s one thing to teach soone a lesson or make an enemy’s life unbearable. But killing soone for no reason… that’s sothing entirely different.”
But at that mont, Valkeris suddenly cut himself off mid-sentence.
For a brief instant, a strange, almost predatory smile crossed his face before he slowly corrected himself, “Although… personally, I’ve never killed anyone.”
He leaned forward slightly, staring intently at Aiden.
“And could you kill soone?”
Aiden imdiately clenched his jaw tighter, as though the re thought of Kael stirred barely restrained fury inside him.
“If kill Kael…” he slowly said in his thick accent. “Yes. No doubt.”
Hearing that, Valkeris suddenly laughed quietly.
“How interesting…”
He took a small sip of alcohol, hiding a satisfied grin behind the glass.
“What a useful idiot…” he thought, now looking at Aiden completely differently. “His mana channels may be a pathetic joke, but he’s still a Marked Mage.”
Valkeris’s gaze briefly slid once more toward the tavern across the street.
“If this savage truly manages to kill that damned brat… that would be absolutely wonderful.”
Slowly tapping his fingers against the table, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
“I only need to figure out… whether the right conditions for an assassination can be created…”
✦ ✦ ✦
And at that very mont, while Valkeris sched and Kael trained and helped his friends, events of an entirely different kind were unfolding on the outskirts of the Capital, near the port districts.
Beneath streets reeking of fish, dampness, and rot lay old underground chambers used to house beastfolk slaves. The narrow corridors there were lit by sparse oil lamps, while the air carried the heavy stench of mold, blood, and bodies left unwashed for far too long.
In one cramped room, where dozens of beastfolk crowded onto roughly built bunks and the bare floor, an old man with thinning green fur now sat quietly.
Age had long since bent his back, and one eye had turned completely white, yet his gaze remained sharp and alive.
Slowly scanning the room, he cautiously extended his hand toward three other beastfolk seated closest to him.
Strange dark stones rested in his palm, covered in countless tiny inscriptions and delicate carved lines.
The mont the beastfolk received them, all three tensed almost simultaneously.
Even in the dim lamplight, the agitation flaring in their eyes was imdiately visible.
The old man spoke hoarsely, “As soon as it begins… hold the stones against your collars.”
His voice was quiet, but the room instantly grew so tense that even the other slaves stopped moving.
The old beastfolk slowly shifted his gaze from one face to another before adding in a much harsher tone, “Kill as many as you can.”
At those words, a nearly beastlike hatred flashed in the eyes of all three.
They silently nodded and quickly hid the strange stones beneath their clothes, as though afraid even the walls might be watching.
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