the shepherd wizard , from the chapter 1 to 14 . manhwa recap

Morning sunlight, two kids, and a stick that might as well be a legendary staff. The little boy charges forward, declaring himself a mighty wizard and launching magic at the so-called monster. The little girl plays along, growling dramatically and threatening to devour him whole. Then, bonk. He smacks her on the head for real. She recoils, offended, and betrayed. That wasn't part of the fantasy. His logic, simple. Wizards beat monsters. That's the rule. She immediately demands a class change. If monsters lose, she wants to be a wizard, too. He shuts that down just as fast. From a distance, Grandpa Rabus watches the chaos with an amused sigh. Kids this early in the morning, already at war. The boy, still fired up from battle, turns to Rabus with wide eyes. What does it take to become a wizard? Rabbis doesn't sugarcoat it. Wizards aren't kids with sticks. They're the apex of humanity. Nobles, knights, chosen bloodlines blessed with ancient power. You don't just decide to become one. And these two not happening. The words land heavier than he probably intended. A man nearby cuts in, half scolding Rabus for crushing children's dreams, then shifts the topic entirely. A monster has appeared. The air changes. The description spreads like wildfire. A leopard the size of a house. Its body cloaked in pitch black shadow. Something unnatural. Something is wrong, but there's hope. The village chief has gone to the city to request a wizard. Once a wizard arrives, the monster will be dealt with. That's how it works. A woman exhales in relief and gently pats the little girl's head, warning her to stay out of the forest for now. Rabbis interrupts the comfort with a colder truth. Without a wizard, killing a monster is nearly impossible. The villagers all know, but then comes the question, "What about him?" The scene shifts to a quiet hill. The shepherd on his hill, Terron. Turin lies in the grass, sheep lazily grazing around him. He stares at the sky, drowning in monotony. Same scenery, same day over and over. At this rate, he jokes to himself he might forget how to talk. It's not just boredom, it's stagnation. A shadow blocks the sun. Rabbis. He wastes no time calling Turin pathetic for slacking off before sunset. Turan doesn't even sit up, just tells him to move. He's blocking the light. Respect? None. Rabbus accuses him of still clinging to that incident. Turan finally turns cold. That incident? Oh, you mean when his mother died and Rabus quietly tried to make the sheep shared property? Yeah, that one. He makes it clear he's not generous enough to share his mother's inheritance. They're not close. They're not friends. So if Rabis has something to say, say it and leave. Rabbis explodes, calling him a brat. Tran finally locks eyes with him, gaze piercing. What? Rabbis finally says it straight. A monster has appeared. A leopard as big as a house. Rob saw it himself. The whole village has been warned. Turon keeps petting a sheep like they're discussing the weather. That's a serious problem, he says flatly. Rabbis studies him. No fear, no tension, just that same lazy indifference. He points out the obvious. Terron, isolated on this hill, is the most likely target. The chief has gone to fetch a wizard. So until then, be careful. And then, almost reluctantly, he admits he came because he was worried. Terron doesn't buy it. He calls him out instantly. If Rabus was worried, it was about the sheep, not him. And with one last jab, he tells the old man to leave. But once he's alone, his thoughts shift. Monsters. If humans have wizards, beasts have monsters. That's the balance. A wizard coming to this forgotten backwater village just because of one monster. For the first time all day, Tan feels something other than boredom. Interest. He wonders what a wizard really looks like. How strong they truly are. Even if it's some mediocre rural mage, he still wants to see one. Just how powerful are they? Then his expression changes. He smells it. Blood. The sun is setting as Tran walks into the forest, following the scent with eerie certainty. Each step makes the smell stronger. He knows this path. He's sure of it. And then time seems to stop. Rabbis' body lies in the ground, dead. Tan's thoughts turn cold and precise. This isn't the work of a normal wild animal. It has to be the monster. The ground trembles. He looks up. Golden glowing eyes stare back at him from a massive shadow-covered beast. The leopard the size of a house. A memory overlaps the present. A child asking his father how strong a monster is. The father's answer is grim. If ordinary adults rushed one, there wouldn't even be bones left to collect. But it's okay. A wizard will come. Wizards are great beings born with magic. They can kill monsters with a single word. The child believes it completely. A single word. The monster lunges at Tan. He doesn't move. He simply says one word. Die. Red energy flickers around him. The monster halts, then retreats. It stares at him, wary now. Tan blinks, almost confused, tapping his cheeks like he's checking if he's awake. not working. The beast charges again. Stop again. It's forced back. Tran frowns. He already expected kill. Wouldn't be that easy, but it can't even be fully stopped. The monster roars and swings its massive claws. This time, Tran doesn't rely on words. He takes a huge step back. No panic, no scream, just calculation and the quiet realization. He might not need a wizard after all. Tan doesn't flinch. He picks up a rock. From his belt, he reveals a crude, primitive sling. Nothing fancy, just leather and instinct. As he begins to spin it, the rock vanishes into motion. Swallowed by speed. His eyes glow gold. The monster charges. Terron releases. The stone tears through the air at terrifying velocity, but it only grazes the monster's cheek. A miss. The beast lunges instantly. Claws slash behind him. Jaws snap inches from his face. And then time freezes. The air goes silent. The rock reappears mid- trajectory. as if reconsidering its mistake. It corrects itself. In the next instant, it slams into the monster's skull with overwhelming force, blasting through and pinning its massive body to a tree. The forest goes still. Just like that, the shadowed leopard hangs lifeless. Tan stands in front of the corpse, calm, almost casual. He mutters that it's his first time using that trick on a monster. No pride, no shock, just mild curiosity. Then he looks at the enormous body and size. Should he toss it into a valley somewhere? The villagers really have him doing all the work. And somewhere in the quiet forest, one fact settles in. The wizard never came. He wasn't needed. Standing alone in the forest, Tan thinks it plainly. He is a wizard. He realized it 8 years ago when he was 10. The memory is still sharp. A younger Tan beams with excitement, showing his mother logs floating in midair. Fire sparks at his will. Wind stirs because he says so. To him, it's magic. A miracle. something amazing to share. To her, it's terror. Stop it. It was the first and last time his mother ever shouted at him. The excitement drains from the boy instantly. She calls him over. Her tone no longer angry, just serious, heavy. Does he want to live with her for a long time? Of course he does. Then he has to promise her something. Never use this power again and never ever use it in front of other people. When he asks why, she reminds him of the old story. Those with special powers are called wizards, whether noble or knight. But they are not the same. Nobles are descendants of the divine Freyans, beings who descended to save humanity long ago. Knights are their diluted bloodlines, mixed, weaker, lower. Even among wizards, hierarchy exists, and Tan, he inherited his power from his father, a knight. There are nobles beyond this quiet village who see knights not as equals, but as slaves. Her voice softens, but the warning is absolute. No one can ever know. He promises and he keeps it. Back in the present, Tran stands in silence. Eight years have passed since that day. He has never broken his word. He has no desire to reveal himself as a wizard. No desire to descend the mountain. No desire to step into a world where power means chains. The promise still holds. And so does the secret. A fist pounds against Tan's door. He opens it to find a crowd waiting. Tense, angry, already convinced. He steps out calmly. So, you're saying I killed Ravis? No denial, no panic, just a question that makes them even angrier. One of the men grabs him by the collar, shouting that he hurt the old man and threw him out to be eaten by monsters. Tran doesn't even blink. He lays it out coldly. Ravis died alone while the younger men were too scared to face the monster. Now they need someone to blame, and he's convenient. The accusation hits harder than any punch, so the man tries to throw one. Tran dodges easily. A clean headbutt drops the attacker back. In his mind, it's simple. Magic is convenient. If he strongly wishes for something, it happens at the cost of mana. He doesn't need fire. He doesn't need spectacle. Just a whisper. Fall over. One thug collapses instantly. Just a little push. Subtle, invisible. Not enough to kill, just enough to dominate. For 8 years, he has hidden what he is, and he's very good at it. Turin turns to the girl standing nearby. Are you here to fight, too? They panic. No, they just came to see him. He tells them to drag the idiots away. As he takes off his jacket, he already knows what's coming next. The town will turn this into another excuse to cheat him during trade. Fine, he'll just beat fairness into them if he has to. He mutters that the thug shouldn't be back anytime soon. Then another knock. His expression darkens. They must be insane. He yanks the door open, furious, and freezes. Not a thug, a stranger, a man with a sword, polite, composed, almost refined. He apologizes for the timing, saying he hoped to ask for a favor during his travels. Tan blinks. A traveler. He quickly straightens himself, awkwardly apologizing for the earlier scene. His mother taught him manners, but he's never had to use them in this town. It feels unnatural. Still, a swordsman in this sleepy place. Suspicious. If you're looking for an inn, he pauses. Come in. Inside, Turan offers what little food he has, apologizing for the simplicity. The traveler calls it a feast. He seems amused that Turan has never met someone from outside the village. Turran explains he's lived on this hill his whole life. Outsiders rarely pass through. The man observes him carefully. The way he eats, the way he speaks. For a shepherd, Turan's manners are refined. His parents must have raised him well. Turran says he learned from his mother and that she died years ago. There's no dramatics in his voice, just fact. The Traveler offers quiet praise. A mother who raised such a son must surely rest among the gods. Tran brushes it off. He simply lives the way she taught him. Then he asks the real question. What brings someone like him to this forgotten town? The man answers plainly. He was asked to take care of a monster puma. And then I am a wizard. The words land differently. Tran's eyes sharpen but his face remains calm. So this is the wizard the elder mentioned. The man confirms it. And just like that, the wizard Tran wanted to see is standing inside his house. The wizard sets his bowl down gently. "May I ask you something?" Tran agrees, calm as ever. The man's gaze sharpens. He says he can sense a monster in the area, yet he doesn't see one. That's strange. Even stranger, Tran knows about the elder, knows about the monster, and yet he isn't running. He isn't afraid. If the monster were to target anyone, it would be him, isolated on this hill. So why is he so calm? Why is a shepherd who has never left this town standing so steadily in front of a wizard? The question finally lands. Who are you? The air tightens. The scene shifts to the past. A young Turan once asked the same question in a different form. Why can't anyone know he's a wizard? His mother's answer was heavy with quiet dread. Bad nobles. If nobles are shepherds, she said, then knights are the dogs they keep. They may treat you like family, but they can sell you, sacrifice you, discard you. She didn't want that life for him. And she made one thing painfully clear. No one can ever know, especially other wizards. If they find out, they will separate them. They will take him, turn him into their obedient hound, something useful, something disposable. Her voice in memory becomes colder. To avoid being discovered as a wizard, he might have to kill people. Back in the present, the wizard's question still hangs in the air. Who are you? And for the first time since he walked in, the room doesn't feel warm anymore. Tan's thoughts harden. So this is what it comes to. The wizard notices his silence. Why can't you answer? Then he smiles. If you make a face like that, it makes my joke awkward. A joke? Tran blinks. The killing intent he was preparing dissolves just slightly. Tran apologizes stiffly, claiming he lacks a sense of humor. The wizard waves it off, saying he must have flustered him. Tran recovers quickly. It's just his first time hearing a wizard joke, that's all. The tension fades. The wizard extends his hand. They haven't properly introduced themselves yet. His name is Kior, a wanderer. Tran takes his hand, introducing himself as an 18-year-old shepherd. Kior casually mentions he's 75. Tran stares. Wizards age slowly live longer. Just like that, the impossible becomes normal. Tran asks how he became a wanderer. Korn explains he served the Arabian family for 60 years before leaving. In his later years, he wanted to roam freely instead of being tied down. There's something almost romantic about it. For the first time in a long while, Tran finds himself enjoying a conversation. No tension, no hostility, just ease. He didn't realize it could feel like this, speaking openly with someone decent, someone warm. The sun rises before either of them notice. Korn stands, surprised at how late it's gotten. He places a silver coin on the table. Arabian silver, pure and more than enough to cover the meal. Tran accepts it politely and wishes him luck on his hunt. Kior smiles. Don't act like we'll never see each other again. He might stop by again to mch a meal. And then he leaves. Out in the field, Tan whispers one word. Gather. The sheep immediately move toward him. He watches them silently. It was his first time meeting another wizard. But more than that, when was the last time he had a conversation that felt that comfortable? Kjorn's tone, his humor, the ease in his voice. He wasn't like the nobles in his mother's warnings. He wasn't like the hunting dogs Tran imagined knights to be. He was good and that's what makes this harder. How is he supposed to tell him that there are no more monsters on his real hill in the forest? Kior pauses. There are clear traces of battle but no monsters presence. Was it already hunted? By whom? Another wizard. If someone made things safe, that's what matters. Or so he thinks. Then his eyes widen. Something is wrong. Before him stands the same monstrous leopard, but not alive. A wraith. Kior dodges its claws smoothly. Mind racing. If you don't absorb or disperse the mana from a dead monster's corpse, it turns into a wraith. Any wizard who hunts monsters should know that the beast lunges again. He evades it midair. So, whoever killed this monster was definitely a wizard. But why leave it like this? Ignorance impossible. A novice who doesn't know something so basic couldn't have killed a monster of this level. Golden energy gathers in his hands, forming into the shape of a radiant arrow. Then there's only one possibility. Intent. Whatever the reason, he has to destroy it. Korn releases the golden arrow. It should have ended it. Instead, the monster nullifies it. His eyes widen. His magic erased. That can only mean one thing. The wraith's mana is overwhelmingly stronger than his. Then the monster melts into the shadows. Gone. Is it countering magic with magic? Where did it? Too late. It rises from his own shadow. Claws crash into him, sending him stumbling back three full steps. This isn't something a mere knight can handle. At minimum, it would take a lower ranked noble to stand a chance. And somehow, in this remote mountain village, he's facing a wraith of this caliber. So, this is where it ends. Kjorn grits his teeth. He won't die obediently. If he falls, he'll drag the monster down with him. A small golden sphere forms in his palm. He'll pour all his mana into one final strike. The moment it lunges, he'll stab straight through it. They charge at each other. Time freezes. Then, blue light floods the forest. A streak of blue energy pierces straight through the monster's head. Kior watches, stunned. A voice echoes calmly through the trees. Are you all right? Kior exhales slowly. A shepherd's joke is pretty startling, too, Turin. Tin steps forward. So, you were a wizard? Yes, sir. No denial this time. Ke studies him carefully. Why didn't he say anything before? No. More importantly, why did he help? He could have walked away, left him to die. Tran hesitates because the memory overlaps. Tran once asked Kor why he would go so far for villagers who could barely pay him. Kior's answer was simple. They're pitiful people living on the frontier, trembling in fear without protection. A wizard inherits the power of a god, so they should live with pride in protecting the powerless. Not every wizard thinks that way, but he does. Back in the present, Tran smiles faintly. Doesn't everyone have their own way of living? The monster surges again. Both step back. Corn shouts that this isn't their level. It's a monster only a noble could fight. Terron needs to warn the village chief. Help evacuate. He'll hold it here. Even as he says it, Kor knows he's buying time he doesn't have. I talked big, but I don't know how long I can last. It's okay. Horn blinks. What? A rock wrapped in blue energy. If that attack landed just now, I think it'll be okay. K's thoughts spiral. That wasn't his full strength. A young knight hiding in the mountains can hunt a wraith even nobles struggle with. No, this isn't just a chance encounter in a rural village. This isn't reckless bravado. What he's witnessing might be the beginning of a wizard who will overturn the world. Blue energy floods the clearing, surging around Turon like a rising tide. He looks at the monster steadily. I was curious about my limits, too. Golden energy erupts around Kjorn's clenched fist as he plants himself in front of Turon. He refuses to back down. No matter how talented Turon is, this opponent isn't something one person should handle alone. They need to combine forces, but before they can move, the monster suddenly materializes right in front of Kior. Claws slashing down. At the last second, Terron cuts in. A surge of water explodes forward. smashing into the creature and hurling it away. Nice save. The golden glow around Kior fades. Reality sinks in. He couldn't react fast enough. Couldn't counter that attack. If he steps in now, he'll only slow Tan down. His jaw tightens. If he can't fight beside him, then he'll make sure Tan's talent fully blooms. Meanwhile, Tan relentlessly blasts the monster's head with waves of water from a distance, but even he's starting to feel the strain. Damn it. The monster lunges again. Tan barely dodges by leaping into the air. Frustration flashes across his face. His plan isn't working. From afar, Kjorn shouts the truth. Physical attacks won't defeat it. As the creature charges once more, Tran demands an answer. What can kill it? Kior doesn't hesitate. Fire or lightning? Tran stretches out his hand, trying to ignite flames. Nothing. It doesn't work. Korn immediately realizes the problem. That's not what he meant. Applying magic to another being requires proper causality, the most basic principle of wizardry. And then a terrifying thought hits him. Does Tran not even know the fundamentals? Worse. Was he the one who killed the beast and left it behind, allowing it to turn into a spectre? The monster slams both fists down, but Turan evades again with raw instinct. Kior watches in disbelief. If that's true, does that mean Turin has never absorbed mana properly in his entire life, and he's still this strong? Kior shouts the correction. Don't just ignite something randomly. Create the fire, then launch it. A tiny spark forms in Tan's palm. Then it grows and grows. Kior's eyes widen. For a wizard, creating fire isn't difficult, but controlling it, that requires training. Years of it. Tan masters it in seconds. The fireball roars to life and shoots forward. It slams into the monster. The creature screams as flames consume its body. Korn doesn't relax. Stay focused. Keep pouring mana into it. Don't let the fire die. burned every last trace of that wraith. Tyron stands firm, eyes locked on the burning monster as the flames continue to devour it. Kior watches from afar. Slowly, the creature collapses into nothing. We won. Kior stares at the remains of the wraith, disbelief washing over him. That creature was no ordinary spectre. It should have required someone of noble rank or higher to defeat. And yet, Turin did it. The mountain shepherd stands before the corpse, calm but cautious. Is it really dead? Kior studies himself and gives immediate instructions. If Turin doesn't want it turning into another spectre, he needs to absorb its mana. Turan blinks. How? He steps closer to the corpse, stretches out his hand, and closes his eyes as he listens. Imagine draining something into yourself. A beat. All right. Suddenly, green energy seeps from the corpse, and flows into Tran's palm. His veins glow faintly as the mana rushes through him. He opens his eyes like he's just discovered something natural. Kior watches, stunned. Tyrion should feel a distinct sensation when absorbing mana. And yet, even seeing it with his own eyes, Korn can hardly believe it. Is this really his first time absorbing mana? Kior's mind races. After awakening, a person's mana grows gradually over time. The fastest way to develop is by killing and absorbing mana from monsters or other wizards. But this this was Torin's first absorption, and he already wields magic at an absurd level. That means his latent potential is on an entirely different scale. This young man, Kior, straightens himself despite the pain and admits something unexpected. He's been incredibly rude. May he ask Torin's family name. Turin, completely unfazed, glances at him and casually tells him to clean the blood off first. Priorities later, inside Tan's modest home, Kior sits with his arm bandaged. He apologizes sincerely. For someone of Turan's caliber to help him like this, it's humbling, but Tan shuts that down immediately. He's not some great figure. He's just a shepherd who doesn't even know who his father is, so stop talking like that. Kior in size, giving in. Still, why would someone so skilled choose to live as a shepherd? He doesn't mean to insult the job, but it doesn't fit him. Tan answers quietly. It was his mother's request, her final wish. Below the mountains live the nobles. If they discover you're a wizard, they'll use you and discard you." Kioran doesn't mock that fear. He calls her wise. Turon didn't expect that response, but Kior explains, "Wizards carry immense power, and where there is power, conflict follows." 20 years ago, a devastating war erupted between the Arabian family whom Korn served and the great Zahar family. It was a slaughter. Of roughly 3,000 Arabian knights, over 900 died. Nearly a third. Kior's voice grows heavier. Everyone close to him was among that third. His friend Denver, who dreamed of opening a laundry shop. his teacher, Hartman, who always pushed him to improve, and his wife and son, all slaughtered by the Zahar family. He was the only one left. That's why Tyrann's mother wasn't wrong. A knight's life can be lost easily. Treated as worth less than a commoners. But she misjudged one thing. Tyrann's talent. Even with a broken arm, Kjorn admits he's a capable knight. And yet, it was Tyran who defeated the wraith, not an experienced veteran. Korn says it plainly. Tran's potential isn't at the level of an ordinary knight. At minimum, he already stands at noble rank and among them upper tier. Terron hesitates. His mother once said his father might have been a knight. Is that possible? Kjorn explains that talent doesn't always follow status. Sometimes a weaker child is born to nobles. Sometimes a noble rank wizard is born among knights. By that logic, Terron doesn't belong on this hill. He should step into the outside world. Tan asks one simple question. Why? Kior answers without hesitation. Because humans need nobles and knights, and humans are not yet the true masters of this world. Korn's voice grows firm again. Long ago, other races cast aside by the gods were pushed into the shadows, and they're still waiting for their chance to rise. Meanwhile, the nobles waste their strength fighting each other. That's exactly why this era desperately needs strong and virtuous nobles. Nobles like Turon. Then he presses where it hurts. Tron isn't satisfied with life as a shepherd, is he? Tron doesn't deny it. Instead, he asks the real question. What would he even gain by leaving the mountain? Korn answers simply, "That depends on what he wants. Wealth, fame, power, family, friendship. None of those are easy to find up here." Kior paints the picture. Tyran could wander the world, destroying monsters that threaten humanity, become an explorer, stepping into the unknown, or even be adopted into a noble family and walk the path of power. For the first time, Tyran doesn't brush it off. After hearing all that, maybe Kieran has a point. It would definitely be more interesting than hurting sheep. And for the first time in his life, he feels curious about the outside world. Still, Kuran grows cautious. He doesn't want to fill Tyran's heart with false expectations. Whatever path he chooses, he'll support it. But first, there's something he needs to know. What is Tran's bloodline ability? Tran blinks. Bloodline ability? Kior apologizes. He keeps forgetting Tyran lacks basic magical knowledge. A bloodline ability is a noble element inherited from an ancestor, Freyen. It's what separates nobles from knights. He asks carefully, "Is there any spell that feels unusually easy to use? Or perhaps an innate ability that doesn't even require magic?" Tyran hesitates. Just because he has some quirks doesn't mean he's strong, right? Kioran clarifies. Simply possessing mana already enhances a wizard's physical abilities beyond normal humans. So, Tran lists what he has. a sharp sense of smell and he's good at throwing stones. Kior nods thoughtfully. An exceptionally sharp sense of smell could qualify as a bloodline ability. Skill with throwing weapons, that's also a trait known in the Arabian family, but it's common, he asks again. Anything else? Tran begins to think. But suddenly, he notices something shift in Korn. The older knight's expression darkens. His head lowers. The air changes. Tan asks why his face suddenly looks like that. Kior answers quietly. He thinks he knows the mana family whose abilities most closely resemble Tann. Tran asked for the name. Kior lifts his eyes. A great family known as the pursuers, the hunters, the very family that once waged war against Arabian, the Zahar family. And just like that, Tran's bloodline may be tied to the enemy that destroyed everything Korn once loved. The name lingers in the air, the Zahar family. Tran's expression darkens as his thoughts spiral. If that's true, then he shares blood with the people who destroyed everything Kjorn loved. What is he even supposed to say? Apologize? But those crimes were committed by relatives he's never met. Strangers bound only by blood. Before the silence grows heavier, Kior gently taps his shoulder. Don't worry about it. Kior says it clearly. Tyran had no part in that war. That was the business of adults. If violence is answered with more violence, the cycle never ends. Tyran studies him carefully and asks something unexpected. Does Korn still agree with telling him to go down the mountain? Kior doesn't hesitate. If Tyran seeks power, he may eventually join the Zhar family. With his abilities, that's entirely possible. But he trusts him. Tyran is caught off guard. Kuran clarifies. He trusts the goodness Tan showed the moment he saved him. Even if Tyran has to reveal the identity he's hidden his whole life, if someone like him rises within the Zhar family, maybe he could prevent another terrible war. Kior softens the weight of his words. No need to overthink it. Tran hasn't even decided whether he'd join the Zahars, but Tran has decided something. He wants to go down the mountain. Hior calls it a good choice. Still, Tan adds one condition. Not now. He'll leave after Korn's wounds heal. Korn tries to brush it off as a scratch, but there's a faint smile in his voice. Tran really is kind. Later, inside Tran's home, the lesson begins. To use magic, you need mana. It's often called the key to absolute power. Though Korn quickly corrects that exaggeration, it's not truly absolute. To perform magic, you need mana equivalent to the task. And the difficulty of magic depends on three things: bloodline, affinity, causality. Bloodline is inherited power. The trait that separates nobles from knights. For example, healing Korn's wound would be difficult for Turin, but for the southern Ravista bloodline, it would be effortless. That's the weight of lineage. Affinity, Korn explains, is familiarity. A wizard performs better with tasks they're accustomed to or inclined toward. Turan connects it immediately. like creating a fireball the same way he throws a stone exactly. If he were just creating a simple flame, it wouldn't have had that speed or force. Then comes the most important factor, causality. Even Korn admits he doesn't fully grasp it. He asks Tan what would happen if he tried to kill someone using only raw mana. Tan guesses maybe some beam of light would shoot out. Korn demonstrates instead. A flash of energy crackles around his hand above a cup. The water inside instantly evaporates. That phenomenon occurs when there's no proper cause for the desired result. When the requirement becomes too unnatural, too forced. That's when magic destabilizes. Tan thinks it through. If he wanted to kill someone, instead of just pouring mana into the wish for their death, he'd need to create a cause, like conjuring fire and shooting it. Because creating fire is more natural than simply willing someone to burn. Kjorn lights up. Exactly. With reasoning like that, Tan could have been a scholar. But Tan raises another question. He can control ordinary animals without effort. So why do magic beasts require something more? Kioran answers simply because of their mana. And just like that, the real complexity of the world beyond the mountain begins to unfold. Tan exhales slowly. Magic really isn't simple. Kior nods. A smart wizard doesn't just throw mana around. He understands the principles behind it, the situation, the logic. Then Tan asked the question lingering in his mind. Does the Zahar bloodline have special magic, too? Kioran answers without hesitation. They are masters of stealth and tracking. And then he tells Tan to try. Tan stands, closes his eyes. I don't want to be seen. I don't want my sound or even my scent to be detected. Slowly, his presence begins to fade, not just visually. It's as if he's slipping out of the world itself. After a moment, his voice echoes faintly. Did it work? Kior's eyes widen. He can't see him at all. Tin slowly reappears. Kior exhales shaken. He's only witnessed that ability a few times before, but it's always terrifying. During the war, that was the power Arabian knights feared most. An enemy you cannot see, cannot hear, cannot even smell. It feels unfair. But Korn reminds him it isn't invincible. Kior decides it's time to teach him proper training methods. Tran hesitates. Isn't he teaching too much to someone from an enemy family? Kior answers simply. Tan saved his life, nursed him back to health, and more importantly, he trusts him. Bloodline doesn't define character. Word spreads quickly. The village chief is furious. Terron is selling the sheep and leaving. Then who will herd the goats? How can he make such a decision without discussion? Tron doesn't budge. It's his property. They can find another shepherd. He expects a fair price. Otherwise, he'll release every sheep and walk away. They're free to try catching them. Good luck. The chief clenches his teeth internally. Tran is the kind of man who follows through. There's no profit in provoking him. With a bag of money in hand, Turran walks beside Kior. He casually mentions the villagers still owe Kior compensation. Should he collect it? Kior refuses. Turin was the one who defeated the beast anyway. A quiet understanding settles between them. This is where they part. Kior apologizes for declining Turin's offer to travel together. He prefers walking alone. Tran accepts it. Thanks him for everything. Kior calls his name one last time. tells him to take care. Tran responds respectfully. He hopes they meet again under happier circumstances. And so, the boy stands still, watching the old knight's figure grow smaller in the distance, long after he disappears from sight. Later, Turin would understand something about himself. Why he didn't like Korn speaking so formally, why he felt a strange warmth around him, though he never lacked love from his mother. There was always a quiet, unspoken yearning for a father figure, for someone to show him what kind of man he should become. And without realizing it, Kior had stepped into that role, even if only for a short while. The mountain fades behind him. Now it's just desert and open sky. As Turon walks alone, he spots a small group ahead. Traveling merchants. Perfect. He approaches calmly, planning to ask for directions. But the moment he steps into their path, an old man with a bandaged eye speaks coldly. Who are you to block our way? Tran keeps it polite. He's traveling alone. He just wants directions to the nearest city. The bandaged man tells him to follow the road they came from. It'll lead to a city called Marray. Tran nods and thanks and turns to leave. But wait. One of the men stops him. You're just leaving. If you receive something, you give something in return. Steel flashes. Every one of them draws a sword. And just like that, the merchants reveal themselves. Hand over the bag first. Tan exhales quietly. Bandits, huh? The men don't even deny it. So, what if we are? The oneeyed leader steps forward, blade hovering near Tan's neck. This is the middle of nowhere. If someone dies here, who would know? They're even being generous. Hand over the bag and the cloak nicely. Killing and looting him would just waste energy. Tran listens carefully. Bandits who don't hesitate to kill. Memories surface. Kjorn's lessons. Bloodline. Affinity. Causality. Power needs proper cause. Violence answered with violence never ends. But this this is different. The present snaps back into focus. Turan smiles, calm, almost polite. Then he says it plainly. He'll use them for practice. The bandit leader bursts out laughing. This crazy guy is talking like he's actually a wizard. One of his men eagerly agrees. Terron doesn't argue. He simply swings his hand. The air bends. Instead of summoning a gale from nothing, he shapes the surrounding wind and strengthens it. A compressed storm erupts outward, lifting every bandit off their feet and throwing them into the air. Midfight, his mind stays analytical, shaping existing air consumes far less mana than forcing a storm into existence. Efficient, he didn't expect this much power with so little effort. Water drifts from his bottle, gathering at his palm. In seconds, it freezes into sharp arrowheads. Five of them hover around him like obedient soldiers. He flicks his hand. One launches forward and pierces a bandit cleanly. Useful spell when water is nearby. Still throwing a rock feels faster, stronger. Some instincts don't change. The oneeyed leader panics. They didn't know he was a wizard. They'll give him anything. Just spare them. But four surviving bandits try one last desperate ambush from behind. Tron doesn't even turn. He lifts his leg. The instant his foot touches the ground. Three massive pillars of rock erupt upward, impaling them mid-strike. Silence falls. The leader stares in horror. Impossible. Tran stands in the center of suspended corpses, unmoved. Tran asks calmly, "Why attack without a plan. If he were just an ordinary traveler, he could just as easily have been a wizard." The leader trembles because Tran bowed. Even when they spoke rudely, he greeted them politely, so they assumed he was weak. Tran absorbs that information. Thanks him. It was a useful lesson. The bandit, desperate, asks if he'll be spared. A single drop of water forms beside his head. Kieran's voice echoes from memory. Never show mercy to scum like bandits. People who harm others for profit without hesitation. There was a reason he said it so firmly. Back in the present, Turin stands before the final corpse. He understands now. One life spared out of pity. Could cost 10 innocent lives later. He exhales. He's already wasted too much time. The bandits carriage tracks carve lines through the sand. Wheel marks stretching into the distance. One thought repeats in his mind. He killed someone. Guilt flickers inside him. But letting them go wasn't an option. People who rob and murder without hesitation will do it again. Like wheel track slowly swallowed by grass. His turbulent heart gradually settles. Kjorn's teachings anchor him. He walks forward. And then he arrives. The small town of Marray. Crowds, noise, buildings unlike anything in his village. For the first time, Tan stands among so many people. The world feels bigger, different, real. He's no longer just a shepherd on a hill, he stepped into something new. Standing in front of a fruit stall, Terron clears his throat politely. Excuse me. The grocery man instantly flips into salesman mode. Welcome. How can I help? Terron awkwardly admits he's not actually here to buy anything. Kior's advice echoes in his head. If you need a place to rest, look for an inn. There's always one nearby. The merchant smile vanishes. If you're not buying fruit, get lost. Tron blinks. Why is he so rude? Is there some unwritten city rule that you must purchase fruit before asking questions? Without arguing, Terron points at an apple. How much? Two dupits. The merchant eyes him. You look like an outsider. You might not know the currency, but other coins are fine. Tran hands over payment, then calmly asks what he actually wanted to know. Where can he find an inn? The answer comes easily now that money has changed hands. Straight down the alley behind the robe seller. Turn left. Look for the building with the blue roof, the largest inn in town. Inside the inn, a cheerful worker named Lena greets him warmly. Welcome. She even compliments his looks without hesitation. Tan cuts to the point. How much for one night? 16 dupits. He accepts immediately. But there's something more important he wants to ask. Lena tilts her head. Something? Are there any monster bounties nearby? Lena blinks. Monsters? Tan thinks it through. He needs to hunt monsters to absorb mana. And Kior said killing monsters also earns money. Why isn't she answering? She finally responds. Nothing in this world is free. If he wants monster bounties, he should go to the town hall. Tran pauses. What's that? Lena laughs. You really are from the countryside. The town hall handles public affairs. Officials there are appointed by the city's lord, but it's probably closed by now. If he's looking for bounties, he'll have to go tomorrow. Lena studies him curiously. Is he a monster hunter, too? Turon asks what that means. She explains, "There's a rumor that ordinary people can become wizards by hunting monsters. Of course, only idiots believe that." Superstition. A hand suddenly taps Turon's shoulder. Superstition. A rough-l lookinging man steps in. It's a fact. You can become a wizard by killing monsters. He saw it with his own eyes. He introduces himself boldly. Monster Hunter Midon. Lena stares in disbelief. Midon, you're still alive. He grins. He won't die. Not until he becomes a wizard. Turan calmly removes Madan's hand from his shoulder. Madan just laughs. Oh, sorry. Tan doesn't waste time. Can I hear more about what you said earlier? You mean becoming a wizard by killing monsters? Midan's eyes shine with conviction. Wizards grow stronger when they hunt monsters. So, by the same logic, if ordinary people kill monsters, they can become wizards, too. The four of them hunt monsters for that very reason. One of the others nods confidently. That's right. Tran asked the obvious question. Then, have any of you actually become wizards? Not a chance. In this city, there's only the Lord's Wizard and three subordinates beneath him. Maiden studies Tran. You said you wanted to hunt monsters, right? Your equipment looks terrible. Don't you even have a weapon? Without hesitation, Tran pulls out his worn sling. I do. Maiden raises an eyebrow. A slingshot. Judging by how used it is, you must be skilled with it. Yeah. It's good for launching egg- sized objects at high speeds. Maidan nods thoughtfully. With that, you could easily hunt rabbit monsters or Reubins. Honestly, we were just saying we needed one more ranged attacker. Want to join us? Tran answers immediately. No, but thank you. That night, lying on his bed, his thoughts swirl. There's no reason to hunt with them. What a chaotic day. He exhales deeply. He still can't believe he actually left the village. What happens now? Suddenly, a noise. Who is it? A memory resurfaces. Even in an inn, I can't lower my guard. Correct. Cities do not guarantee safety. Never let your guard down. I understand. Back in the present, Tan quietly grips the door handle. His other hand glows faintly with light. Ready? He opens the door slowly. Lena. She smiles casually. Were you already asleep? I thought the room might be cold, so I came to warm you up. Tran blinks. What? What do you mean by that? Lena steps closer to Tan with a sly grin. For a small amount of money, I'll do whatever you want. Tan, skeptical, asks, "What if there's nothing he wants?" Lena doesn't even flinch, placing her hand on his shoulder. Don't lie. I can tell just by looking at your face. Tan's expression humorously twists into a monk-like seriousness, leaving Lena staring in disbelief. A flashback to Kior shouting, "Warnings echoes in Tran's mind. Don't do it. Be careful with inmates and prostitutes. They carry diseases. Even if you have strong resistance, being careless can hurt others." His thoughts wander. Cities may seem cold-hearted, putting a price on even small bits of conversation. Yet, survival depends on staying sharp. Tran overhears Maidan talking to a subordinate. The subordinate asks why he tried to bring that inexperienced guy along. Maidan explains the young man wouldn't survive long alone, but his cocky attitude makes him perfect as bait. He reminds me of myself when I was young, Maidan admits. Despite the cynicism, there's a threat of care. Tran realizes maybe the city isn't entirely cold-hearted after all. Tan approaches a reception man. Polite greetings exchanged. Tan admits he's here to hunt monsters. The receptionist blinks at the claim, skeptical. Flashback to Kior's advice surfaces. The world isn't kind unless you show your strength. Revealing you're a wizard makes ordinary people bow. The receptionist hands Tan a picture. You can't take it with you, so just look and return it. Tan asks if it's a crow monster. The man scoffs. Does that look like a cat? He explains the law. Leaving a monster corpse without dispersing its mana turns it into a wraith. The maximum penalty is execution. Tran silently vows, I won't repeat that mistake. When he asks why knights don't hunt monsters, the receptionist dismisses him. Knights maintain city order. Monster hunting outside is for amateurs. Turran sets the picture on the desk. The receptionist mutters about another corpse piling up outside the city. Later, examining a freshly returned monster corpse, his disbelief is evident. This can't be. The receptionist, shocked, asks Tran if he killed it alone. Tran confirms the bounty is handed over. You must have worked hard. Please get some rest. The corpse draws awe from the others. The blade wings remain intact. They can't believe someone brought back a blade crow in perfect condition. Tan asks if there are any other monsters worth hunting. The receptionist, startled, hesitates before realizing Tran might still be capable of more. Meanwhile, Lena praises him. 30 monsters in just 3 days. The most expensive items on the menu. She can't believe it. Tran deflects. Money isn't my only goal. In truth, his sights are on something far more valuable, the monster's mana. Terron reflects on his strength. Compared to when he met Kior, his mana has multiplied, but he feels a ceiling approaching. Weak monster's mana won't help him grow much further. Lena interrupts his thoughts, teasing about finishing all the food herself. The chef happily basks in their enjoyment. As Tan praises the meal, the chef promises an even better dish next time. Suddenly, a man grabs Tan from behind, mocking his recent earnings. Before he can finish, Turan spins and smacks him. Didn't you want some charity? The tension explodes into a fight. The man throws a punch, but Turan dodges effortlessly. Another attacks with a chair. Turan blocks it with one hand, flicks the man's head with a finger, and neutralizes the threat with astonishing precision. Lena screams, "Don't fight me in." Maiden steps in, apologizing for his subordinates. I gave both of them a proper scolding. This will never happen again. Turan asks if things are hard. Maiden admits funds are tight, explaining that jealousy drove the scuffle. The subordinates sheepishly apologize. Tan quietly hands Maiden a small bag of coins. When asked why, he says it's repayment for the earlier kindness. Maiden tried to protect him by bringing him along. Maiden is stunned and Tan adds, "There's no such thing as free. Now give me some information." Maiden grins, "Information is what I'm best at. I'll tell you everything I know." Tan stands on the cliff's edge, reflecting. This may be his last hunt in the city. Maidan provided crucial intel on the next city, far more than Tan expected. He muses on Maidan's pure, kind nature, less seasoned than Ke, but that makes him genuine. Suddenly, his eyes widen. A scent hits his senses. Please let my hunch be wrong. Tran follows claw marks up a tree, then spots a corpse nearby. Recognition hits. The body is from Maiden's group. Horror replaces thought. The familiar face is Maiden himself. Tran chokes out. "What in the world happened?" Maiden. A faint sound cuts through the tension. Tan turns his head. One of Maiden's subordinates, barely clinging to life, mutters in disbelief. The rabbit, the answer, stands a few steps away, drenched in blood. A small beast with glowing red eyes and claws sharp enough to shred bone. It's calmly tearing into another corpse when it slowly lifts its head and locks onto Tan. The moment he rises, it vanishes. No, it launches. The thing moves like a bullet. Tran barely twists out of the way as claws slice through the air where his throat just was. This is no normal monster. Tran steadies himself. It's fast. I almost got hit. No hesitation. He whips out his primitive sling and fires in one smooth motion. The stone shoots straight for the rabbit's skull and is cleanly deflected. The rabbit didn't even panic. It guarded. Tran's eyes narrow. This one's used to defending against throne weapon techniques. The rabbit lunges again, but midcharge its eyes widen. Tran disappears. The beast skids to a halt. Instincts flaring too late. He reappears behind it. A flash of steel. The knife sinks straight into its neck. And just as quickly, Terran vanishes again. The rabbit goes berserk. It thrashes wildly. Claws carving through trees like paper, shredding the forest in blind rage. The rampage ends as suddenly as it began. The rabbit lets out a final guttural scream and collapses. Silence. Tran appears once more before the corpse. Without ceremony, he places his hand forward and begins absorbing its mana. Green light floods his eyes. Energy surges through his veins, denser than before, stronger. The amount of mana is different. It's more than that leopard monster I encountered the first time. Behind him, one of Miden's surviving subordinates stares in shock. You're a wizard, Terron answers calmly. Yeah. The man struggling to breathe asked the obvious question. Why are you hiding your identity? Terron doesn't respond. Instead, his voice turns practical, detached. Do any of the four of you have family I can pass your belongings to? No drama, no explanation, just responsibility. Because whatever he's hiding, he's not heartless. The memory resurfaces. My Dan once mentioned a nearby great city, Orum, a place with something rare, a library. The moment the word books was spoken, Tran's expression changed. Subtle but noticeable. My Dan smirked. Now you're interested. Thousands of books, knowledge beyond imagination. There was just one condition. Only wizards are allowed inside. Tran didn't hesitate. He'd made up his mind. He was going to Orum. Now standing before Maiden's grave alongside two others, Turon lowers his gaze. Maiden, I hope you're happy there. No long speech, just quiet closure. Then the great city rises before him. Orum is nothing like Marray. The line at the gate stretches endlessly. I'm almost embarrassed. I was shocked by that small city. I didn't think this many people would try to enter. Security is tight, organized, efficient. Screening for criminals, as expected of a great city. He steps forward. Halt. The guards block him. Terron blinks. What is it? The answer is blunt. No entry. I've never seen clothes that filthy. Dust yourself off at least. So that's the problem. After a quick fix, Tan finally makes it inside. And there it stands. The library. Massive, imposing, almost unreal. So this is the library Maidan talked about. It's overwhelming. The structure feels unnatural in its perfection. It must have been built with magic, right? At the entrance, Terran addresses the guards calmly. I'm trying to enter. This library is only for wizards. I'm a wizard. The guard laughs outright. Do you want to die for impersonating one? Red mana gathers in the guard's palm. A warning. No way someone who looks like that could be a wizard. In that moment, Terron recalls Kior's words. Wizards recognize each other. They sense mana. They know who stands above them. Turan releases it. Mana floods the space. Turan's eyes burn red as the energy surges outward, overwhelming and suffocating. The pressure alone forces the guard backward. He collapses before he can react. The second guard rushes to help. I'm fine, the first insists, shaken. But inside, panic spreads. He's no ordinary wizard. At least noble class or higher. The guard scrambles to his feet and bows his head immediately. I'm Kenya, a knight of House Valtus. His tone has completely changed. May I ask which house you're from? Tran doesn't flinch. Do I have to say to enter? No, but to use the library, you need permission from the master of Valtus. Tan tilts his head slightly, meaning I'll contact House Valtus. The gate didn't open easily, but now they're the ones adjusting their posture. What was supposed to be a simple verification process somehow turns into this. Turran finds himself surrounded by maids being thoroughly scrubbed and tended to like fragile royalty. I thought this would be simple. How did this happen? Stop. The maids freeze instantly. Yes, sir. Is it a problem if I wash by myself? Their face is pale. If we fail to properly attend to an esteemed guest, we'll be punished. Turan exhales. Do what you want. He's fought monsters without blinking. This This is somehow worse. One maid stares at him, eyes wide. Wow. Amazing. Freshly cleaned and dressed, Tan barely recognizes himself. Tan tilts his head slightly. Is there something on my face? She flusters immediately. I momentarily lost myself because of your beauty, esteemed one. Please forgive me. There's nothing to forgive. Please don't speak to us so casually. Even now, they're drawing lines. To them, he's no longer a ragged traveler. He's something far above. The door opens without warning. A young woman steps in confidently. So, you're the guest who showed up looking like a beggar. Her eyes scan him from head to toe. After washing you up and dressing you, you look like a prince. Direct, amused, sharp. I'm Tin. I'm Aella. No hesitation, no formal stiffness. What house? For personal reasons, it's difficult to say. Aella pauses. Is that so? A small smile curves on her lips. That's a shame. Aella turns away slightly, but her smile deepens, hiding who he is. Then maybe I'll play a little prank. Without warning, Mana floods the room. The air grows heavy as Aella releases her power deliberately. Show me your mana. Tan's eyes widen in shock as the pressure presses in from all sides. This isn't a prank. It's a challenge. Tan's eyes shift to blue and he answers. His own mana surges outward, filling every corner of the space. The air turns dense, heavy, almost suffocating. Azella's bodyguard instantly moves, shielding the maids behind him as the two forces collide. For a brief moment, it feels like the room itself might crack. Then Tran exhales. The pressure fades as Ella lowers her hand. It's trembling. She looks at him calm on the surface. Want to marry me? Silence. Time freezes. Tran just stares at her, eyes wide, brain completely offline. Aella bursts out laughing. What's with that reaction? It was just a joke. She turns slightly, grinning. Still think about it once. The seat next to me is empty right now. And just like that, she leaves. The room feels quiet again. Tan remains standing there. Only now does he notice his own hand is trembling. She has mana on par with mine at the very least. Is this level normal here? The great city suddenly feels a lot more dangerous. Now standing before the ruler of the city, the lord studies him calmly. Welcome, young noble. You already know my name, Lord of Orum, Rug Valtus. I'm Turin. The lord blinks. Turin. Straight to the point. So you want to use the library? His tone shifts slightly. Many come here chasing strange rumors. Let me say this in advance. There's no ancient forbidden magic inside. No secret method to increase your mana. No hidden treasure. No shortcuts. Turin doesn't hesitate. I'm fine with that. I never wanted anything like that. A small pause. The lord nods. If you still wish to enter, I won't stop you. There's nothing inside that concerns confidential matters of our house. He glances outside. It's late. Rest today and return tomorrow. Is that acceptable? I won't forget your kindness. Polite, controlled, measured. The next day, the tower stretches upward as if it's trying to pierce the sky itself. The guards step aside respectfully. Your entry pass has been confirmed. Esteemed guest, "Welcome to the sky library." The massive doors open, light spills out, and for the first time since arriving in Orum Turin's composure cracks. His eyes widen. Whatever lies inside, it's beyond expectation. The doors open into a world that doesn't feel real. Stairs spiral endlessly upward, stretching so high they almost disappear into the sky itself. Tran stands still for a moment. So this is the library. It's less a building and more a monument to knowledge. Then nice to meet you, Tan. He looks down. A small cute girl beams up at him. I'm the librarian here. By order of the lord. I'll explain the rules. She raises a finger dramatically. The rules are simple. Tran just stares. A little kid is the librarian. She continues confidently. First rule, if you damage anything, you compensate. Second rule, no taking books out. And while you're using the library, I'll be watching you the whole time. Tan pauses. All right, but when I'm reading, could you stand a little farther away? I feel uncomfortable. No reaction, just a bright smile. Then he asks carefully. If you're the librarian, you've read the books here, too, right? Yes. Finding what you need is what I'm best at. She leans forward, excited. What do you want? Romance? History? A mischievous tilt of the head? Or since you're young, something erotic? I want to learn basic common sense about the world. There's a brief silence, then slam. A stack of books drops onto the table. A lot of books here are hundreds of years old, so they won't really suit your needs, but this section might help a little. Thank you. You're welcome. Turon picks one up carefully. He runs his fingers over the cover. So, this is what a book is. No battlefield, no blood, no monsters, just paper and ink. For the first time, he's holding knowledge instead of a weapon. The moment Turan opens the book, it's amazing. Days blur together. He builds a routine. Wake. Enter the sky library. Read until the light shifts. Geography. The races of this world. Wizard etiquette. Manufacturing methods. Ancient monsters. Relics from the old empire. Piece by piece. The unknown space that once surrounded him begins to take shape. With every page turned, the world becomes clearer, sharper, real. One day, the Lord of Orm summons him. So, you really have been making excellent use of the library. Yes, measured. Respectful. The lord's tone grows heavier. You understand that allowing you to use the library separate from treating you as a noble was an act of goodwill. A pause. I would like payment for that goodwill. Tron doesn't hesitate. Please tell me what you need. A monster has appeared north of Orum. It has been attacking travelers. Do you want me to hunt it? Four knights sent to subjugate it never returned. They were eaten. Silence settles. It seems a noble must step in personally, but our house can only mobilize two people at the moment. Again, the lord asks what Ton requires. Very well. Outwardly calm. Inside, protecting people is what a wizard ought to do. But something nags at him. Weren't wizards usually the type who don't get involved in things like this. He recalls a past remark questioning what kind of people wizards really are. The lord continues. The northern road is an important trade route. It's been blocked for 10 days. We must reopen it quickly. 10 days. Terron's thoughts sharpen. That was before I even arrived in Orum. Understanding settles in, so that's why he let me use the library so readily. The next scene shifts to the departure. Azella walks between Tron and another wizard. Behind them, several knights follow in information. She clicks her tongue lightly. Father really is something else. To think he'd even mobilize a guest for a monster hunt. A sideways glance. Were we that unreliable? Half teasing, half serious. The road north awaits. And Tron now understands knowledge was never free. It just came with better packaging. A Zella turns toward Tan as they march. Oh, I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying father is making a huge fuss. The man beside her chuckles. Isn't calling the lord fussy a bit much, young miss? Aella rolls her eyes. Drop it. Their eyes linger on each other for a brief unspoken challenge as he readies himself. He steps forward toward Tan. This is our first time meeting properly, isn't it? I'm Marvin Valtus. I look forward to working with you. Likewise, Tan replies calm and measured. As they walk together, Azella adds, "Let's finish this quickly and go back to rest." Marvin nudges Turin, teasing slightly. "Turin, are you interested in my big sister by any chance?" "Pardon?" "No." "That's a relief," Marvin smirks. "Up ahead, knights call out, halting them." "Is that the creature?" one asks. "Probably." "We forbade anyone from going north, so it must have come south and attack travelers." Tan examines the area closely, noticing handprints on the wooden structures. It's a monkey. Aella blinks. A monkey? Look at the handprint here. It attacked the peddlers and returned to the forest. If we find the trail and pursue it, we should be able to track it. Aella frowns. Pursue it. I can barely use that kind of magic. Marvin, what about you? Me neither. Is there a knight who can? I'll try looking. Tran interrupts. Oh, are you from that bloodline? Aella asks. I use it a lot, so I'm used to it. Tran kneels, smelling a discarded napkin. His eyes widen as a faint trail of blue energy appears before him. He points decisively this way. They follow the trail to a lake. It stops here, Tran observes. Looks like it washed its body. You're saying a mere beast did that to avoid being tracked? Aella asks incredulous. Maybe it just washed because it wanted to, he begins, but a scent suddenly hits him. Behind you, he shouts. A massive gorilla emerges from the trees, roaring. It grabs a handful of rocks and hurls them toward the group, nearly wiping out the knights. Tran dodges effortlessly. When he checks on Azela and Marvin, the sight freezes him. Each of them is holding a knight as a human shield. Aella throws the knight forward with calculated force. Tran thinks grimly. Mother wasn't wrong. Attack! She shouts. The knights charge, but the gorilla runs. Both Aella and Marvin pursue. Time freezes for a brief moment as a rock slices through the air toward the beast. The projectile pierces the gorilla's chest. Azella and Marvin turn to see Terran approaching, swinging his primitive sling with razor-sharp focus, eyes locked sharply on the battlefield. The wounded gorilla collapses to the ground, roaring in pain. Azella doesn't waste a single second. With sharp focus, she unleashes a fire spell that coils into the shape of a blazing serpent. The fiery creature rushes forward and slams into the monster, detonating in a massive explosion. Watching from afar, Tron quietly recognizes what he's seeing. So that's it. The infamous bloodline power of House Vultus. the pyromaniacs. The dust settles and the knights finally breathe again. It's over. Aella stretches slightly, still riding the adrenaline. She admits the moment the giant rock came flying at them, she almost got chills. Marvin immediately jumps on the chance to tease her, asking if she was scared. Aella fires back instantly, telling him to shut up. He was the one screaming like a little girl. Marvin sputters in protest, completely denying it while everyone around them recovers from the fight. Nearby, the knights begin assessing the damage. One complains that his arm might be broken. Another snaps at him to stop whining since someone else literally lost an arm in the battle. Bandages are passed around and someone desperately tries to stop a soldier's bleeding head. From a distance, Tron observes the chaotic scene. What a mess. At least no one died, but even so, the situation doesn't sit right with him. This was a surprise attack, yes, but it was still a fight where serious injuries should have been avoidable. Given how Mana strengthens the body, Azella and Marvin should be far tougher than the average knights. Yet, when things got dangerous, they didn't hesitate to use the weaker soldiers as shields. The thought lingers uncomfortably in Tran's mind. Marvin notices Tran staring and asks, "What's wrong?" Tran brushes it off. Before the conversation can continue, Azella claps her hands and excitedly calls him over. More importantly, it's time to absorb mana from the fallen monster. The three of them step up to the corpse and extend their hands, drawing in the monster's remaining mana. As Tran feels the energy flow into him, he recalls what he read in a book. Even if multiple people absorb mana at once, the enhancement doesn't diminish. Good. The theory checks out. Soon, Aella groans in frustration. She's already hit her growth limit and can't absorb anymore. Marvin admits he's reached his limit, too. Aella clicks her tongue. finally understanding why her father insisted Toron accompany them. His spell proficiency is impressive, and his mana capacity rivals hers, even though he hasn't reached his own growth limit yet. For a noble like him, that's remarkable. Later, the group begins heading back toward Valta's castle. As they walk, Marvin brings something up. Thinking about it now, if Tan hadn't been there, they might never have defeated the monster. From tracking it down to landing the crucial hit that knocked it over, the decisive moment was Tan's attack. Tran quickly downplays the praise, brushing it off as nothing special. As they continue walking, Tran clarifies something. If anything, he regrets reacting too late. The monster managed to strike first because he hadn't expected it to possess a search ability. Marvin is surprised. A search ability? Tran explains his reasoning. From what he learned, monsters sometimes awaken abilities based on their physical traits. The one they fought had unusually large hands and eyes, even though it barely resembled its original form. Those traits likely granted it the ability to throw objects with tremendous force and perhaps the ability to see long distances or observe through the forest. Marvin is stunned that Turran figured all of that out so quickly. Tan casually admits the truth. He had studied a monster encyclopedia earlier in the library. Marvin immediately grimaces at the thought of that dusty, suffocating place somewhere no one willingly goes. Aella agrees. She once entered out of curiosity, but the books were so complicated that she gave up before even finishing half a volume. Tran suggests that next time they visit, they should ask the librarian for easier books. Azella blinks in confusion. The librarian? Tran simply explains that it's the person who manages the library. Azella looks genuinely puzzled, wondering if such a person even exists there. And just like that, Tran's thoughts drift back to the strange encounter he had inside that very library. The scene shifts to Turon stepping inside, a cheerful voice welcoming him back by name. That alone makes Terron's mind tense up. He immediately realizes his mistake. No knight or commoner would casually call a noble by their name. In this city, nobles are always addressed with formal titles like esteemed one. And more importantly, the woman standing before him doesn't look anything like a normal librarian. Tan directly asks how she knows his name. The woman looks surprised that he's only questioning it now. Then she calmly explains she learned it from his library permit. After all, within the bounds of this library, her gaze can reach anywhere. That statement alone makes Tan realize something unusual is going on. When Turan asks how he should address her, she casually says she doesn't really have a name. He can call her whatever he wants. Maybe something cute, like my love. Turan shuts that down instantly and settles on simply calling her librarian. She pouts, teasing him for suddenly acting so polite after supposedly using her for days to fetch things. Turan denies that completely and tells her to stop getting so close. It's uncomfortable. Curious, he asks if she's perhaps a wizard from the old empire. Her answer catches him off guard. No, she wasn't even a person to begin with. She's something closer to a spirit. The librarian explains that when a soul inhabits something alive, it becomes a living spirit. But when it inhabits something neither living nor dead, it simply becomes a spirit. In her case, the library itself is her body. The human form she's using now is just a convenient way to communicate. It simply reflects the user's preference, though she teasingly hints that Tan's preferences might say something about him. Tran immediately shuts that down, refusing to let her spin strange ideas. Still, she calmly compares herself to a reflection on water visible but untouchable. To confirm it, Tran carefully examines her, then extends his hand straight to her body. She instantly protests, complaining about where he's touching and saying it feels weird. Tran quickly apologizes. The spirit grumbles about another frustration. She can't directly exert power on intruders inside the library. If she could, she would have already punished every fool who ever carelessly took books out of the library. Tran realizes something important. It seems even House Valtas doesn't know she exists. And perhaps no one who has ever used this library does. The librarian explains why her creator placed a restriction on her visibility. Only people whose type has reached a certain level of completion can perceive her, which means as far as she knows, Tan is the only one who can see her. She jokingly calls that a little romantic. Curious, Tan asks what she means by type. She explains it simply. Wizards call it bloodline. That immediately sparks another question. Tan asks if she can tell him about his own bloodline. She first suggests asking his parents, but Tan quietly reveals that he's an orphan. After a brief pause, the librarian offers another option. She can check it herself as long as he consents to her examining his body. Tan freezes for a moment. Examine his body. His brain briefly shortcircuits, wondering if this is really how it works. Before he can process it, her hand passes straight through him, causing him to yelp in surprise. The librarian cheerfully announces that they're now connected, which only makes Turin more uncomfortable. Thankfully, it doesn't actually hurt. After examining him, she reports what she found. Most of his bloodline consists of two major components, pursuer and hunter. Turan immediately recognizes it as a trait associated with House Sahar, confirming her guess. But as she looks deeper, something else catches her attention. There's another bloodline inside him, one that has been mixed in. When Turan asks what that means, she explains it simply. He's the result of parents with different bloodlines. Naturally, Turan asks what the other one is, but the librarian can't tell him. The second bloodline is locked. That's not unusual in mixed bloodline cases. As Turon grows stronger, the seal should eventually break and reveal itself naturally. Terron quietly accepts the explanation, though the mystery clearly lingers in his mind. After hearing about his mixed bloodline, Terron's thoughts drift to his mother. She was always far too refined and well educated to be a simple commoner. Perhaps she had been descended from some noble family, though the bloodline might have been so diluted that it could no longer even sustain night mana. Shaking the thought away, Tan thanks the librarian for explaining everything. The spirit grins mischievously and says if he's truly grateful, he should stay another month. Once Turin learns the librarian's true identity, his time in the library changes completely. Instead of reading alone, he constantly questions her about the books and asks for deeper explanations. To his amazement, the librarian doesn't only know the knowledge preserved in the shelves. She even remembers information from books that were stolen or lost thousands of years ago. For Turan, it's like discovering a living archive of ancient knowledge. Under the librarian's guidance, Ton begins learning about the world in ways no ordinary book could explain. When he asks if there are truly countless invisible substances around them, she casually explains how one could see them by floating water in the air and shaping it like a lens. To Turon, being taught the laws of nature so clearly is priceless. He learns that diseases come from microscopic organisms, that decay happens because these creatures feed on living matter and that countless natural principles govern the world. He studies concepts like the refraction of light, heat created by friction, and even how the body is injured and heals. Knowledge that goes far beyond ordinary magic theory. Tan immediately begins experimenting. Placing an apple on the table, he tries applying what he learned about decay. The moment he touches it, the apple blackens and rots from the inside as if time itself had consumed it. The librarian asks how it feels. Tran can't hide his amazement. It's not that existing magic couldn't do something similar, but understanding the underlying principles allows him to achieve the same results while using far less mana. Just changing the way he perceives the world has already improved his skill as a wizard. The realization leads him to a troubling conclusion. Perhaps powerful houses deliberately monopolize knowledge like this. If every wizard understood these principles, the elites would lose their advantage. No wonder the general level of knowledge keeps declining as time passes. The librarian quietly remarks that she's starting to understand why. Eventually, Tran announces that it's time for him to leave. The librarian looks genuinely surprised. Tran explains that the owner of the place has been subtly hinting for a while that he should move on. Suddenly, the spirit panics and lunges toward him, shouting for him to take her along. But she simply passes straight through him and crashes to the ground. Tran calmly asks the obvious question. Can she even leave the library? She admits she can't, then jokingly suggests he just stay there forever instead. She promises she'll take good care of him. Tran immediately declines. The librarian pouts, knowing he was never going to stay. Before he leaves, she gives him one last piece of advice. This land is filled with remnants of the gods. Ancient legacies scattered across the world. If Tan searches for them, he might even encounter spirits who know more than she does. Tan promises he'll visit the library again from time to time. She shrugs as if she doesn't care, but he can tell she's only pretending. With a small smile, Tran reassures her. After all, there are still countless books in that library he hasn't read yet. Leaving the city of Orum, Turan walks down the road alone. From the continental map he found in the library, he knows that the base of House Sahara lies to the east within the vast and real desert. That will be his next destination. If he goes there, he might finally uncover clues about his parents. With that resolve, Tan sets off toward the desert. Tran moves quietly through the forest, his thoughts calm, despite the long journey. 18 years have already passed since the clues he seeks were left behind. If they were going to disappear, they would have vanished long ago. Sitting by a small bonfire, cooking a simple meal, he concludes there's no point rushing now. If the evidence still exists, it won't suddenly vanish just because he arrives a little later. Continuing through the woods, leaving the corpses of slain monsters behind him, Terron suddenly hears something. Instantly alert, he slips into the bushes to observe. In the clearing ahead stands a massive golden-haired stallion fitted with a saddle. Behind it, a man sits unconscious against a tree. The situation is odd enough already, but the stallion doesn't look like it's attacking him. If anything, it seems to be guarding him. Watching from a distance, Tan spots the real threat. Two dark elves facing the stallion. One curses under his breath, shocked that a mere beast could be this strong. As the pair argue and search for an opening, Tan quietly studies the battlefield, trying to determine where the earlier attack came from. Realization hits him. Dark elves. Both dark elves raise their glowing hands and begin chanting in a strange language. Purple energy seeps into the ground and twisted shapes start emerging from the earth. Slowly, the soil forms grotesque animall-like creatures under their control. Tran recognizes the technique immediately. It's the dark elves necromancy he once read about in a book. From his hiding spot, Tan debates whether to interfere. Maybe the unconscious man attacked them first. Maybe this isn't his fight. But then his eyes widen as he sees something disturbing. One of the dark elves casually chewing on a human hand. When the other complains and asks for a piece, the reply is simple. Eat your own. Tin's gaze sharpens. Any doubt vanishes, activating a concealment spell. His body fades from sight as he silently approaches. While the dark elves continue their grotesque conversation, one even complaining that the human she killed were too hairy. Judgment suddenly falls from nowhere. The male dark elf's head explodes without warning. Blood sprays across the female dark elf's face as she freezes in shock. Panic replaces her shock instantly. She commands her summoned creatures to gather around her defensively. A rock suddenly shoots toward her, but one of the undead beasts intercepts it at the last moment. Furious and shaken, she shouts into the forest, demanding the attacker show himself. Meanwhile, one of her bull-shaped summons rampages through the trees, searching for the hidden enemy. A chilling realization creeps into her mind. Concealment. Someone is hunting her from the shadows. The dark elf summons a fox-like creature beneath her feet and smirks. Confident in her counterattack, the beast releases strange waves of energy that ripple through the forest, disrupting concealment magic. Slowly, Terron's invisible form fades back into view. The dark elf immediately points at him and screams in triumph. She's found the hidden attacker. Without hesitation, she orders her creatures to kill him. The fox and the bowl charge at once. Turon reacts instantly, summoning a blazing fire element in his hand and launching it toward them. The fox nimly dodges the attack, but the bull barrels straight through the flames like it doesn't care. Teran barely avoids its charge, jumping sideways at the last second. Tan hits the ground hard, but forces himself to think fast. At least he managed to kill one of the dark elves earlier. Facing two would have been far worse. His relief doesn't last long. The fox suddenly bites into his leg. He kicks it away, but by the time he turns back, the bull is already right in front of him. The beast slams into him with crushing force, launching him straight into a tree. Tran crashes down, blood spilling from his mouth as the impact leaves him barely standing. Watching him struggle, the female dark elf mocks him, shouting that he deserves this for killing her kin and promising he'll soon beg for death. But before she can enjoy her victory, something massive bursts into the scene. The golden stallion charges forward and slams its hooves straight into her face. She screams as the creature relentlessly kicks her into the dirt. Her summoned beasts immediately abandon Turon and rush to defend their master. All three attacking the stallion at once. Bruised and furious, the dark elf drags herself up from the ground, swearing she'll kill them both for humiliating her, but her threat ends abruptly. A flash of blue light streaks through the air so fast it's almost impossible to see. In an instant, her head explodes. The body collapses lifelessly to the ground. With their master dead, the summoned creatures melt away into pools of black liquid. The battle finally ends, but Tan's strength is nearly gone. Exhausted and wounded, he drops to one knee, the grim thought crossing his mind that he might actually die here. Then, the golden stallion walks up to him. Tan gently presses his forehead against the creature's head, a quiet gesture of gratitude after everything that just happened. With a tired breath, he murmurs his thanks to the unlikely savior. The unconscious man finally stirs and opens his eyes, only to scream the moment he sees Tan standing nearby. Tan calmly reassures him that he's awake now. Still shaken, the man demands to know who he is. Tran simply explains that he came across the scene while the dark elves were attacking and stepped in to save him. The golden stallion walks over and gently sniffs its owner. The man relaxes and pets the horse's head, calling her by name, Tilly. Watching the interaction, Turran remarks that she's an incredibly intelligent animal. Not only did she protect her owner, but she also knew to move him somewhere safer while he was unconscious. The man expresses sincere gratitude for being saved and introduces himself as Aziz of the Burke family. Turon gives his own name in return, then asks the question that's been on his mind. Why were the dark elves attacking him in the first place? Aziz explains that there was no clear reason. He had simply been traveling with his servants and knights when the dark elves suddenly attacked without warning. The brutality of it still shocks him. He had heard stories about other races being violent, but never imagined it would be this extreme. His voice grows heavy as he apologizes for losing his composure. The people who died protecting him were incredibly precious to him. When Terron asks if they were family, Aziz shakes his head and explains they were the knights and servants who accompanied him on this journey. People who had practically raised him since he was a child. Listening to him, Tran quietly reaches a conclusion in his mind. Aziz seems like a genuinely good person. Tran asks how many dark elves attacked them. He mentions that he killed two during the fight. Aziz thinks for a moment before answering that those two were probably the entire group. Turran closes his eyes and quietly spreads his senses through the surrounding forest, searching for any remaining threats. After a brief moment, he confirms what he suspected. There are no more dark elves nearby. Seeing the situation settle down, Aziz turns to Tan with a thoughtful expression and asks if he happens to have any urgent business at the moment. Turan replies that he's also simply traveling on a journey of his own. Aziz studies him with curiosity. For someone strong enough to defeat dark elves, traveling alone seems strange. He wonders aloud if Ton might be the son of some powerful family. But if that were true, why would he be wandering by himself? Ton brushes the question aside, saying it's complicated. Then he downplays his strength, insisting he's not actually that powerful. Tran explains what really happened. He ambushed one of the dark elves and managed to kill him. But the second fight was a struggle. In the end, he only survived thanks to the help of the red stallion. For a brief moment, both men release a faint trace of their mana while talking. Tran quietly notices it and realizes something surprising. Aziz is actually quite strong. In his mind, Tran reflects on his own condition. Without absorbing the mana of the dark elves during the battle, he would be even weaker than he is now. Aziz also analyzes the situation silently. Based on Turin's strength alone, fighting two necromancers should have been impossible. That leaves only a few explanations. Extraordinary combat instincts or perhaps a rare bloodline. But if Tan really possesses something like that, why is he wandering alone? After thinking it over, Aziz makes an offer. If Tan doesn't have a fixed destination, he'd like to invite him to the Burke family estate. It would allow him to properly repay the man who saved his life and escorted him safely back. When Turin questions what kind of payment he means, Aziz proudly explains his family's background. The Burke family serves as vassels to the great house of Arabian in the north and has produced skilled enchantment artisans for generations craftsmen who specialize in creating magical artifacts. To repay his debt, Aziz promises something valuable. They will craft a magic artifact perfectly suited for Tan. The two stand quietly before freshlymade graves. The air is heavy, unfinished. Aces admits he can't send his fallen men back home. It's just not possible. Then, unexpectedly, he thanks Turon. Not for saving him, but for not judging him. He confesses it plainly, crying like that as a noble must have looked pathetic. That's what he was raised to believe. Ton doesn't hesitate. That kind of thinking makes no sense to him. A seiz recalls his father's teachings. Warriors who die for truth go to heaven. So mourning them is weakness. A true noble keeps moving forward no matter the loss. But standing here now, he can't accept that. If being strong means not grieving your own people, then maybe he doesn't want to be strong at all. Terron shuts that down immediately. That's not weakness. That's compassion. The moment softens. Then AC shifts the mood, suggesting they drop the formalities. They're close in age anyway. A hand reaches out. Let's travel as friends. Tran looks at it for a second. friend. Then he takes it. I will look forward to it too. Later during their journey, I sees casually asks if they should rest. Tan, however, is more interested in the strange metal box nearby, a cooler. Simple explanation, but still oddly impressive. Aiz proudly explains, "Food stays fresh for a week. Can even be frozen." He keeps listing off the absurd collection of magic artifacts they're carrying. Water dispenser, auto shelter builder, proximity alarm, even a self-cleing outfit. Tran's inner reaction is simple. Yeah, these are definitely not normal items. Still, he jokes. Just the shirt alone would be enough payment for saving Aiz. A seiz doesn't even entertain that. His life is worth far more. And when they get back, he promises even better rewards. AC suddenly flips the praise back on Turin. All these tools, nice, but him, that's the real absurdity. He lists it out like he's trying to process it. Animal control, freezing, levitation, lightning, instant death. The list just keeps going. At this point, he's genuinely suspicious. Did Tron train his whole life or does he have some ridiculous bloodline ability? Tron internally suffers because the real answer, it just happened. Instead, he deflects, reminding Aiz of their agreement not to dig into his origins. Aiz backs off, laughing it off as a joke. Still curious, though, Ases suddenly asks the real question, his age. Given everything he's seen, he half expects some ancient number. Terron answers plainly, 19. Aces freezes. He's 43. There's a brief mental recalibration, but he brushes it aside. Age doesn't matter here. Still, he can't help but marvel. Terron already defeated two necromancers, and apparently he's not the only genius out there. Aces brings up someone else. A girl around Terron's age, his second cousin, another genius. Terron, practical as ever, immediately asks if she can make him a magic artifact. AC shuts that down instantly. She's not just anyone. She's from the main family. The name drops like weight. She's essentially royalty. The princess of Arabian, a potential future head of the great family. As they walk, Aiz explains how these great families work. Leadership isn't inherited automatically. It goes to the strongest among the generation. And among them, Msa stands at the top. Within just 10 years of awakening her mana, Mesa mastered all attack magic, including their bloodline techniques. At only 21, her mana nearly rivals the core members of the family. Terron connects the dots quickly. With that level of power, did she inherit mana from the dead? Aces confirms it casually. When his uncle died, she absorbed his mana. That's just how things work. Tron's thoughts sharpen. No wonder great families stay at the top. As points ahead, they've arrived. The view stretches endlessly clear skies, vast lands, untouched fields. His voice carries with quiet pride. Deacon plains the heart of Arabian. The moment they enter the Burksabillan estate, the tone shifts completely. Aiza's mother rushes to him worried and he immediately breaks down, hugging her and crying like a child. Tran watches in silence. This man is 43. Yeah. His brain refuses to process it. Even Aiz's father steps in, reminding him to mind his reputation. At least call her mother properly. Embarrassed, Aiz quickly straightens up, then introduces Tran as both his friend and the man who saved his life. That changes everything. When Aiz explains they were attacked by dark elf necromancers, his mother's reaction is instant fury, ready to mobilize troops and wipe them out. His father calms her down, but his focus shifts sharply to Turon. What family does he belong to? Turon answers honestly. He doesn't know. Born to a commoner mother. No idea who his father is. The atmosphere tightens. A seiz is shocked. This is the first time he's hearing it. Tran brushes it off. Not something worth talking about. His mother, however, quickly regains composure. She acknowledges the debt and offers a reward, but not hospitality. Instead of staying in the estate, Tran will be placed in the finest inn outside. The reason? A distinguished guest is currently staying and someone of unknown background isn't exactly welcome inside. A seiz immediately protests. This is the man who saved his life. But rules are rules. Just as things settle into awkward tension, a calm voice cuts through the room. If they're talking about her, she doesn't mind the outsider staying. And besides, the man who saved Aiz isn't about to suddenly turn into an assassin. All eyes turn. A girl stands quietly by the wall, thin, pale, with striking blue eyes. A seiz immediately recognizes her. Messa. Tin studies her from behind, his expectations clashing with reality. So this is the princess of Arabian. But instead of elegance, she looks closer to a corpse than royalty. Then she casually drops the real reason she's here. She was nearly assassinated and came here for refuge. Tran's reaction. A subtle side eye. Of course, it's something like that. Aces can't hide his shock. An assassination attempt inside the main estate. That place is supposed to be untouchable. Mesa doesn't seem surprised at all. Where there are people, there are flies. and in her case plenty of them. Clearly exhausted, she ends the conversation and heads off to rest. Good night. The room goes quiet for a beat. Then AC's mother speaks again, tone completely different from before. She calls for the maid and gives a new order. Prepare the second best guest room in the estate for Turan. Turan wakes up in a room that screams nobility. Soft bed, polished space, everything just too comfortable. Later, he wanders the castle corridors, taking it all in at his own pace. Then his name echoes behind him. A seiz already up, casually calls out, surprised, but not really, figures he'd be awake early. Turan gestures towards something nearby, his attention clearly caught, a magic lamp. Asis shrugs it off like it's nothing, just something they made as kids while practicing enchantment magic. Then, just as casually, he offers one. They've got plenty lying around. Turan pauses, then declines. Tempting, sure, but he's not about to act impressed over something they treat like spare clutter. Without warning, a streak of yellow lightning tears across the sky outside the window. Tan's gaze sharpens instantly, drawn to it. That wasn't natural. A seiz glances over, completely unfazed. Looks like Mesa is training again. As diligent as ever, Tan keeps watching the storm, connecting the dots. So that's it. the Arabian bloodline magic. A seiz confirms it casually. The storm bloodline. Aces admits it openly. He doesn't hate his own abilities, but compared to hers. Yeah, there's envy. That kind of power makes you look like a god. Turin watches the lightning. Curiosity rising. Just how strong is she really? Aiz suggests they go watch. Tan hesitates. It's probably not wise for an unknown outsider to approach someone like her. Aiz brushes it off. He'll vouch for him. But then the truth slips out. He's curious, too. Not just about Msa, but about who's stronger, Tran or her. Tran immediately calls him out, and Aiz surprisingly doesn't deny it. Years ago, when they train together, he developed a bit of resentment. Now, he just wants to see her lose, at least once. Aiz calls out to her like nothing's changed. Messa turns calm as ever, immediately, noticing the unfamiliar face beside him. Tran introduces himself respectfully, but she already knows his name, so why are they here? Aiz plays it casual. Just saw her training and thought they'd join in like old times. Msa pauses, then remembers and instantly fires back. The old times where Aiz ran off crying because she mastered in two tries what took him a week. Tran nearly loses it. He's this close to laughing. Aiz catches it. Yeah. Not amused. Trying to recover what's left of his dignity. Aiz pivots fast. He introduces Tan properly this time, calling him a once-in-a-lifetime talent, then drops it. A duel. Misa blinks. Did he really just suggest that? Without warning, golden energy begins to gather around Messa. Her blue eyes glow cold, distant. The air shifts. Turon instinctively looks up. The sky responds. Lightning crashes down, not randomly, but as if it's answering her. Then it hits him. Not just power, pressure. Her mana floods the space, heavy and suffocating. Tan freezes. His body won't move. His legs barely hold him upright. This isn't something you measure. This is something that overwhelms. And just as suddenly, it's gone. The sky clears like nothing happened. Tran stands there barely steady. Misa watches him for a moment, then speaks calmly, almost apologetically. It would be difficult for him to duel her. Ais cuts in before Msa can continue, calmly dropping a bold claim. Terron may not match her in raw magical power, but that's not what makes him dangerous. his real strength, learning speed, the kind that defies logic. He doesn't hold back, calling Turin a once-in-a-lifetime genius, and even goes as far as saying Messa herself might not be on that level. That lands. Messa, clearly intrigued and maybe a little challenged, decides there's only one way to settle this, see it for herself. Tran steps in with a simple but clever proposal. Each of them demonstrates a magic the other likely doesn't know, and whoever performs it faster wins. Aiz immediately approves. Honestly, he just wants to see what happens. Messa agrees, but sets a condition. She won't use her innate bloodline magic. It wouldn't be fair. A confident pause. She takes the first move. With nothing more than a light tap of her foot, the ground responds. A branch slowly rises, then suddenly explodes forward with terrifying speed. Before anyone can react, a seize is caught, lifted, spinning helplessly in midair. As the branches wrap around him, he panics instantly, shouting for her to stop while the world spins around him. Mesa, completely unfazed, casually explains the spell plant creation and manipulation. Then, almost teasingly, asks if Turan can do the same. Meanwhile, Aiz is still screaming in the background, begging to be let down. She ignores him. "It's fun," she says. While chaos unfolds behind him, Tan doesn't react. He just watches, observes, thinks. Then he kneels, placing a hand on the ground. His thoughts begin to break magic down to its core. Fire isn't magic. It's just the phenomenon of burning. Water isn't magic. It's simply drawing out moisture already present in the air. To him, magic isn't mysterious. It's a system, and systems can be understood. Tran doesn't panic. His mind is already miles ahead. He dissects the spell piece by piece. Those vines aren't being created. They're being forced to grow from seeds already in the ground. So, the truth clicks instantly. This isn't creation magic. It's growth. Right on Q, a branch erupts from the ground, coiling around his arm as if confirming his theory in real time. Mesa watches closely, and for the first time, she's genuinely impressed. She points it out. He didn't just copy the spell. He understood its true nature on his own. Then she asks the obvious question, "Has he seen it before?" Tran's answer is simple. First time, that settles it. Misa drops Aces back to the ground, finally sparing him, admitting almost reluctantly that Aces was actually right about Tan. A rare occurrence. Then she shifts the pressure back onto him. Her turn is over. Now it's his move. Turan pauses, thinking carefully. Using Zahar's bloodline magic. Yeah, that's basically suicide right now. Not an option. Then something clicks. His eyes widen slightly as an idea forms. He reaches his hand toward the garden and suddenly a mouse bursts out from the greenery. Msa raises an eyebrow unimpressed. Animal control. That's what it looks like. But Tan calmly holds the mouse up and shuts that idea down immediately. This isn't the magic. It's just the ingredient. Tan's eyes glow blue as his mana wraps tightly around the mouse. Then something unnatural happens. The soul is pulled out. The tiny body in his hand instantly decays, rotting as if time itself skipped forward. Silence. Even Mesa is caught off guard, her eyes widening at what she just witnessed. Tran, completely unfazed, simply says, "Done." No flare, no hesitation, just results. Messa doesn't back down. Not a chance. With a small gesture, she summons another mouse and grabs it. Mana swirling around her as she attempts to replicate what Ton just did. But something's wrong. Her mana won't connect the same way. It refuses to wrap around the target like his did. For the first time, she's stuck inside her head. Frustration creeps in. What was that magic? This isn't anything standard. Even Ases looks disturbed, openly questioning why Turan would use something so unsettling. Turran shrubs it off. It was just the first thing that came to mind. But internally, he's already analyzing something deeper. Even a prestigious family like Mesa's doesn't understand this. That realization says a lot. Aces, watching the struggle unfold, suggest the obvious. Just give the wind to Tran. Big mistake. MS snaps instantly, shutting him down with pure irritation. There's no way she's accepting defeat like that. The narration breaks it down. Magic isn't just about throwing mana around. It's built on a fragile chain of cause and effect. For a spell to work, three things need to line up. The phenomenon must make sense. The caster has to understand its cause, and the mana has to match the scale. But one factor outweighs the rest. Understanding the cause. The clearer the caster sees it, the smoother and more efficient the magic becomes. And if they don't understand it, there's always the brute force option. Dump in more mana. Force the result. Messa refuses to lose. Not like this. Inside her mind, she fixates on one command. Rot. Rot. Rot. While it's still alive. She doesn't fully understand the magic, but that doesn't matter anymore. She pours in mana. And suddenly, it works. The mouse's face begins to decay slowly at first, then completely. Its soul slips free as the body rots away entirely. Silence hits. Even Tan is stunned. Aces can barely process it. It worked. Mesa, barely able to stand, mutters in disbelief. She did it, but the victory is hollow. Her eyes close and her body gives out. A seiz catches her in panic, shouting her name, trying to wake her up. Ton watches closely, already analyzing. Too much mana. That doesn't fully explain it. People don't usually faint from depletion alone. At worst, they collapse from exhaustion. But this feels different. Then he notices it. Something clicks. Understanding flashes across his eyes. Without hesitation, he lifts her into his arms and starts giving orders. Is there a healer? No. Then bring water and salt. Call the adults too. Now, even as he carries her, a thought lingers. She's far too light. Like her body was barely holding together to begin with. And now even the mana she used to barely sustain a body that to begin with shouldn't even be able to stand has been exhausted. The scene shifts to Msa slowly opening her eyes lying in bed. Beside her, Aiza's mother leans in immediately checking on her, her voice filled with concern. Msa looks disoriented, asking the simplest question. Why is she here? Aiza's mother explains what happened. She suddenly collapsed while training with their guest. Then a subtle shift. Her tone tightens slightly as she asks, "Did that man do something to her?" Mesa freezes for a moment, then suddenly snaps back, clutching her head. She shuts it down immediately. No, this wasn't Terron's fault. Just a mistake. Her mistake. Nothing more. Her voice rises, clearly strained as she asks everyone to leave. Her head is pounding. She doesn't want this conversation to go any further. Aiza's mother doesn't push. Instead, she gently leaves behind some soup, reminding Msa. Despite relying on magic, she still needs to take care of her body. A small, grounded concern in a world full of overwhelming power. She exhales softly and heads for the door. And just before she leaves, Mice's voice, quieter now, echoes through the room. Thank you, Auntie. A rare moment of softness slips through the cracks. Silence fills the room, and somehow it only gets louder. The camera lingers on Messa's eyes as she slowly turns toward the soup left beside her. After a brief hesitation, she picks it up. Spoon in one hand, bowl in the other. She takes a sip and everything changes. Her expression darkens instantly. Her eyes widen in shock. A horrifying image crashes into her mind. Aiza's mother and a red-haired girl both crawling toward her. Blood pours from their mouths, their eyes, their voices echo, desperate and broken. Please save us, Mesa. If it's you, you can do this. It hurts so much, sister. The words dig deep, too deep. Reality shatters, literally. The bowl slips from her hands, smashing against the floor. Messa trembles violently, clutching her head, covering her ears as if she can physically block out the voices. But they don't stop. They're not outside, they're inside her. The setting shifts deep underground. Inside the Beck family basement temple of the limping goddess, a knight stands beside Tan, scanning the reinforced structure. He notes it coldly. No cracks, no weak points. The walls are as solid as a body hardened by centuries of discipline. No escape by force, no shortcuts. He warns Tan to abandon any escape attempts, but Tran isn't even thinking about that. The night, Haramberg, simply responds that the place is very solid, almost as if he's proud of it. Too proud? Tran briefly wonders, "Is he bragging?" Berg's sword cuts through the air with controlled precision. The sound of his movement alone draws Tan's attention. As Berg subtly reinforces his posture, Tan finally asks what he's doing. "Training," Berg replies simply. Then he moves again. Left swing, forward thrust, right swing. No wasted motion, no hesitation, just pure structured force flowing step by step. From a distance, Tan watches in silence. Something about it feels different. There's no unnecessary movement at all. Each action is reduced to its absolute minimum, just enough preparation to feed into the next strike. Tan's mind starts breaking it down instinctively. Is this what it means to have a trained body? Berg feels Turin's gaze and turns to him directly. Tan, slightly caught off guard, apologizes. He didn't mean to interrupt, but Berg isn't bothered. Instead, he asked something unexpected. What did Tan see in his movements? Tran answers honestly. He thought it was incredible. That simple response makes Berg pause for a moment, almost pleased before he continues. Berg speaks plainly about the divide between warriors and nobles. Most nobles dismiss martial arts entirely. Why bother when magic lets you attack from afar? In his view, it all comes down to weakness. the body failing to obey the mind, forcing them to rely on cheap tricks instead of discipline, Tan responds calmly. Unless someone is born with a physical combat bloodline like the Hercules type, focusing on magic is simply more efficient. But efficiency doesn't matter when reality changes, there are moments, trials, where avoidance is impossible, situations that must be faced directly, no matter what you prefer. Without warning, Berg holds out his sword. Tron immediately questions. It wasn't he locked up for being suspicious? Is it really safe to hand him a weapon? Berg doesn't hesitate. It doesn't matter. The sword is just iron. What makes it a sword isn't the metal. It's the one who wields it. And right now, with Terron's body as it is, he couldn't possibly cut him. Turan grips the sword, turning it over in his mind. What could he even do with something like this? Just metal, just a tool, nothing more. Berg suddenly stiffens. His eyes widen, sharply focused on Tan. Look at that. The atmosphere shifts in an instant. The moment Tran holds the sword properly, his body erupts with overwhelming mana, flooding the space with pressure that wasn't there a second ago. But Berg immediately shuts him down. Not that way. Caught mid-motion, Terran adjusts, replying calmly as he corrects himself. Bird doesn't ease up for a second. He circles him like a hawk, dissecting every flaw. Stance, balance, posture. More weight on the front leg. Let the ground take the impact. Elbow too high, too weak. that won't carry the blade. At this rate, the recoil alone will ruin him. The corrections come fast, sharp, and painfully precise. Terron is visibly surprised. This isn't random criticism. It's exact, almost surgical. Still, he accepts it without resistance. Yes, sir. Bird nods, satisfied for now. 10 repetitions, no stopping, and breathe properly. Not just air breathe into the muscles. No shortcuts, no excuses. As Tan continues training, Berg's tone shifts. Less shouting, more doctrine. He acknowledges Turin's body as a fine vessel, but makes it clear potential means nothing if it's not pushed to its limits. Then comes the core lesson. Mana isn't everything. To Berg, mana is just a trick, a crutch many rely on. Wizards assume their bodies will hold up just because they can use magic. But that's just the bare minimum. A truly trained body, it doesn't need mana to dominate a battlefield. That difference, that is what Turon needs to understand. Terron listens, absorbing every word, and responds simply, "He'll remember it." And judging by his focus, he means it. Mid-training, Tan's focus snaps to the side. The basement door caks open. Aziz's mother steps in, her expression heavy with guilt. She doesn't hesitate. She bows her head and admits she's done something unforgivable to their benefactor. Tan, caught off guard, immediately deflects the blame. If anything, he's relieved. The young lady is safe. As for his own actions, he admits they were improper for a guest. The tension softens, but not completely. Aziz's mother explains. Mesa wishes to apologize properly, and she asks if Tan has the time. He doesn't refuse. The scene shifts to a quiet corner by the castle window. Mesa stands there, the wind gently brushing through her hair, but her expression is anything but calm. She looks troubled, like she's been replaying everything over and over. She finally speaks, admitting what's been weighing on her. She heard what happened that Ton was trapped in the temple because of her. She calls the entire incident unnecessary, something that should have never escalated that far. But Tyran doesn't agree. To him, it was necessary. And more importantly, he's just glad she's safe. Simple words, no blame, which somehow makes her feel it even more. By the window, the mood shifts. Ma's guilt fades, replaced by sharp curiosity. She suddenly recalls the magic Tan used the day before. The one that made animals rot. And now she's analyzing it like a scholar on edge. Was that some hidden bloodline magic? The manacost alone didn't make sense. Her suspicion rises fast. Did he lie to her? Tan, unfazed, shuts that down calmly. No tricks, no special lineage. If she understands the principle, she could use it, too. That answer doesn't satisfy her. It challenges her. Mason narrows her eyes, so he's not going to teach it for free. fine, but without proof, she can still claim it's bloodline magic. A subtle standoff forms. Tan, however, doesn't even bother playing along, winning or losing the argument. He doesn't care, and that hits a nerve. Mace's composure cracks. Her pride kicks in hard. She can't just let this end like that. Not when her reputation is on the line, so she makes a bold move. If he reveals the secret behind that magic, she'll trade it for one of Arabian's secret arts. A high stakes offer. No bluff this time. Tran accepts immediately. No hesitation, no objections. Looks like this just turned into a very different kind of exchange. The conversation shifts from tension to pure technique. Turon breaks it down simply. The foundation of the spell is bio-enhancement magic. Nothing special on the surface until he reveals the key detail. Microorganisms, invisible ones. Mesa freezes for a second, then it clicks. Of course, that's why the efficiency was so terrible on her end. She was missing a fundamental piece of the puzzle. No precision, just raw output. Frustration creeps in fast. She admits it. Her version worked, but it was nothing more than brute force. And that to her is basically a loss. Tran casually considers that part of the wager. Wrong answer. Mesa snaps back immediately. Mana dumping doesn't count when evaluating magic skill. That's not how this works. Her pride won't let her take the loss like that. Then, with a slight blush and a reluctant tone, she proposes a compromise. Tell Aziz it was a draw. No need to let him get cocky over something like this. Tran agrees without pushing further. Crisis avoided more or less. Mesa, regaining her composure, turns toward her closet, already thinking ahead. If he shared knowledge, then it's only fair. He should be properly compensated. She starts searching through her belongings, clearly preparing to uphold her end of the deal. No shortcuts this time. Mesa pulls out a comb, clearly confident she's about to demonstrate something valuable. As she runs it through her hair, she begins explaining. When objects rub together like this, they start to attract each other. She's just about to reveal the secret when Tan cuts in casually. Static electricity. Silence. Mesa freezes, completely caught off guard. He already knew. Tan confirms it without a hint of pride. And just like that, her profound secret art loses all its impact. Mesa tries to recover, but the damage is done. She admits it reluctantly that alone was supposed to be one of their deeper techniques. And yet, it's useless here. Frustration builds again. She needs something he doesn't know, something worthy of repayment. After a moment of thought, she pivots. If she can't repay him immediately, then she'll do it over time. Her solution: train together. Of course, she quickly adds a defensive excuse. It's just to repay her debt, not because she needs him. Definitely not that. Tran accepts without overthinking it. Simple, efficient. They agree to meet starting the next day in the garden during the evening. And just like that, what started as an apology turns into a partnership. The scene shifts to a grand dining table, far too grand for the occasion. Aziz's mother invites them to eat, downplaying it as modest, but the spread says otherwise. Aziz immediately calls it out. This isn't normal, not even close. He's never seen a meal like this, not even on his own birthday. Anyone walking in would think a lord had come to visit. His mother shuts him down instantly. Not the time. Terron, observing quietly, already senses it. This isn't just hospitality. Something's behind it. As the meal settles, the conversation returns to unfinished business. Aziz's mother brings it up directly. Her son promised a powerful magic tool in exchange for his life. Tran confirms it without hesitation. No dodging, no false humility. She then asks the real question, "What does he want?" Tran answers with clarity, not something for attack, not something flashy. He wants defense because hurting others with magic is easy, but protecting yourself, that's the hard part. And if possible, he wants something that can guard against surprise attacks. A practical request. Careful, calculated. Exactly the kind of answer that makes it clear. Tran isn't thinking about power. He's thinking about survival. Aziz's mother considers Tran's request calmly. It's not a problem. She's made similar defensive tools before, but there's a catch. Nothing is ready right now. Before the moment passes, Aziz jumps in, volunteering to make it himself. Bad move. His mother shuts him down instantly, her tone sharp. If he's not trying to disgrace Houseberg, he should stay out of this. Yeah, not his moment. Before the tension lingers, another voice cuts in. One of the men present raises his hand, stepping forward with quiet confidence. He'll take the job. Fresh off a commission from the main house. He has time and clearly the skill to back it up. Aziz's mother questions his approach. His answer is precise. For protection against surprise attacks, the item must be something always on hand. jewelry, rings, earrings, necklaces, but not just decoration. He plans to embed mana into it, awakening a defensive function tied to a guardian bloodline's power. Now that serious craftsmanship, Aziz's mother accepts the proposal and moves straight to the next detail time. The answer comes without hesitation. One month, Aziz's mother speaks with composed pride, briefly acknowledging Melo's skill, already nearing her own level as a wizard, which means one thing. The magic tool Ton will receive isn't ordinary. It will be crafted by the head wizard of an enchanter bloodline with a full month dedicated to it. That's not just a reward. That's a masterpiece in the making. Tron, realizing the scale of it, hesitates. It feels excessive. But that thought doesn't sit well with her. If this is too much, then what does that say about her son's life? Her answer is firm. This isn't excessive at all. Not even close. To her, the exchange is only fair. Then she adds one final condition. For the next month, Tan will stay as their guest. No arguments. The scene shifts to the town where Tan and Aziz walk side by side. Aziz casually drops the truth. His mother has taken quite a liking to him. Apparently, their conversation didn't end the night before. Aziz had already told her more about Tran, about his talent. His magic stands on par with Mac's, and more importantly, he doesn't neglect his training. A rare combination and clearly one that left an impression. As they walk through town, Aziz gets a bit more honest about the situation. At first, his mother underestimated Tran, just another wandering noble with no real backing. But now, the approach has changed. Tran quickly pieces it together. This feels less like hospitality and more like recruitment. Aziz confirms it without hesitation. His mother's strategy is simple and dangerously effective. First, overwhelm you with generosity. then put you in her debt. And finally, introduce a beautiful young lady. Hook, line, and sinker. Apparently, several adults in the house fell for that exact method. Terron's reaction says it all. This is getting troublesome. But Aziz waves it off, reassuring him. The magic tool, just a way to earn his goodwill. Nothing will be forced, not even marriage. At least his mother has standards. Still, it's hard not to feel like the net is already tightening. Shifting gears, Aziz asks about Ton's plans for the day. Turan mentions his evening training session with Mesa. Nothing unusual, but that leaves plenty of time before then. Aziz doesn't hesitate. He throws an arm around Turon's shoulder, already dragging him along with a grin. Patrol duty. Zillain may not be the capital, but according to him, it's got more than enough to keep things interesting. And just like that, Tan's quiet day turns into something else entirely. Aziz refuses to accept Tan's idea of just training all day. According to him, that's not living. It's wasting life. Before Tan can even finish his answer, Aziz is already dragging him forward like an overexited tour guide. Life's too short, he insists, determined to force some enjoyment into the schedule. The day turns into a chaotic tour of distractions. Aziz tries everything. Casinos, bars, anything meant to entertain. Terron refuses each one without hesitation. Calm, unmoved. But as they pass through a traditional market, something finally stops him cold. A poster on the wall. His eyes sharpen. A familiar face, Kior. A name from his past flashes in his mind immediately. Could it really be him? The scene shifts into a stage play. Clashing swords echo through the hall as a dramatic retelling unfolds. Year 2095. Warriors of Arabian ventured into the demon desert and among them stood a knight named Ke. The story portrays him as a divine hero defeating enemies with God's help. After a brutal battle, the audience applauds. The legend feels larger than life. Aziz leans in watching Tran's reaction. Worth watching, right? Tran answers politely, but his mind is elsewhere. He remembers the real Korn, not the legend, just a man who once said he was ordinary. And for the first time, Tran quietly wonders how much of that story is actually true. Morning light filters into Tran's room, and the moment he opens his eyes, reality hits him immediately. Berg is already there, sitting, waiting, like sleep itself is a crime. He casually asks if Tran's body recovered well, as if showing up uninvited at sunrise is completely normal. Tran, still half awake, asks what this is about. Berg doesn't waste words. He noticed it yesterday. Tran's body is a strong vessel, and strong vessels don't stay strong by resting. They're tempered. Then comes the command. Follow him. Tran confirms the obvious. This is training. Bird doesn't even correct him. He just reinforces the philosophy. Strength doesn't come from lying around. It comes from being pushed, strained, broken down, and rebuilt. Then, almost like a test of will, he asks, "Does Tran not want it?" Tran's answer is immediate. No hesitation, no complaints. Let's go. Even as he gets up, his inner thought is calm and clear. This isn't wasted effort. If anything, this path will bring him more than idling ever could. Aziz suddenly bursts into Tran's room full of energy. He greets Tran casually, already talking about some fantastic performance heard about. But the moment he notices Berg, everything changes. Uncle Berg immediately locks onto him instead. No escape, no mercy. He asks if Aziz will join them for training, too. His weak body also needs tempering. Aziz's reaction is instant panic. Nope, absolutely not. He blurts out excuses about just returning, not being recovered yet, and in the same breath, he's already halfway out the door. He runs fast. Tran just stares at him, confused. Why is he like that? Later that confusion turns into realization. Turan remembers Aziz sprinting away and finally understands it. So that's how it is. Training resumes without delay. Terron is pushed into brutal physical conditioning weighted push-ups under Berg supervision. No mercy, no breaks. Don't you hear your body crying? Berg demands again. Again. Every rep strips away weakness. Every command forcing him past his limits. Bird doesn't let up even when Terron is shaking under the weight. This is all you've got. Your mind is being controlled by your body's weakness. One last push. Teran forces it out with a shout and then Berg finally stops him. Silence falls. Tan collapses to the ground, barely moving, eyes dimmed from exhaustion. Berg simply looks down at him and asks calmly. Tiring. Tan answers honestly, "Yes." Berg explains calmly that Turon is lucky. Since he's a wizard, this level of physical tempering only needs to be done once, one time. That's all. Turon, still catching his breath, asks the obvious question. What about non-wizards? Berg answers without hesitation. For ordinary bodies, strength fades. Even after training, it slowly erodess. They need constant trials just to maintain it. But wizards are different. Mana keeps their bodies in a stable, peak condition. Once forged properly, it doesn't slip back. Then Berg smiles too casually. You're fully rested now. Tin tries to protest, barely getting the words out, but Berg already knows the answer. Before Turan can finish, Berg's smile widens. I know your body doesn't lie. And just like that, the decision is made for him. No more recovery. Weapon training begins. Turan's scream echoes through the training ground as reality collapses into pure repetition. Life at Houseberg becomes a cycle of relentless training. A special space where gravity itself is heavier. Every movement twice as hard. One wrong step in the floor becomes a trap. Morning physical training under Berg. Evening magic training with Mesa. No gaps, no breaks. Mesa teaches control, precision, technique. Even something as simple as finger friction becomes a lesson. Day after day, body and mana are pushed in parallel. And without realizing it, three weeks pass. Back in the garden, Tron fires a bolt of blue lightning and misses the target again. He clicks his tongue internally, frustration building. Mistake again. Mesa watches him closely, noticing the struggle. She comments that he's having more trouble than expected. Terron explains simply, "It's because he isn't from Arabian." Mason admits she can't even help much here. Her own understanding of lightning magic is straightforward. Just shoot and it hits. But Tron corrects her assumption. It's not that simple. Aiming it is far more difficult than it looks. Before the training can continue, a voice interrupts the garden. A man arrives urgently, calling out to Mesa. He immediately notices Tan beside her, but doesn't get an explanation. Mesa steps forward sharply, blocking the conversation. She reminds him she ordered no interruptions during her recovery. The man ignores the tension and delivers the message anyway. The patriarch has summoned her. Mesa's tone drops instantly. Serious now. She demands the reason. If it's trivial, there will be consequences. Then the report comes. Dark elves are rampaging in the south. Three cities have already fallen. An expedition force is being prepared. The atmosphere changes immediately. The scene shifts. Dark elves with glowing golden eyes. Chaos. Destruction. war spreading across the region. And in that moment, Tin's expression freezes. A single thought echoes in his mind.