Days have passed since Lieren's imaginary encounter.
Harita and that woman Bian had continued to talk, plan, and go on missions on their own.
He hasn't been invited to any of those, of course, he was still just a useless kid, with next to no experience and even less skill. He wasn't the person to take on such dangerous escapades, especially since their very lives depended on it.
"Well, I guess this is normal."
Sighing, Lieren closed the door behind him. The wooden door closed with a heavy clunk, automatically with a resonant click, and creaked all the way from the rust of its metal hinges.
Even in the orphanage, he was a nobody. Touted as the 'lazy kid,' he never saw a chance to shine. He had less than subpar physical ability, zilch life experiences, and no magic whatsoever to help him with everyday life.
This made it hard to work outside on construction zones, like the rest of the boys in the orphanage. Because of his lack of grace and precision, he also did not have any chances to join in on the girls' sewing job, which forced him to the construction job nevertheless, leaving him tired and exhausted every single day. And even during the night when he came back, he would immerse himself in mountains of books, reading until the next day had come.
More often than not, he would even forget to eat, drink, and sleep.
He especially liked books about magic theory, geography, as well as fantasy books and biographical anecdotes about the numerous adventures of brave warriors and prodigious mages. He watched as each of them grew old, learned from their mistakes, and ultimately died… only to be replaced by yet another group of intrepid adventurers. This didn't happen often, of course. Most often times, the hero wouldn't even die… until the end came, that is. Selfless sacrifices are often made by these heroes, literally costing them an arm and a leg, even their lives, if the situation calls for it.
It was during this that he was able to gleam into a specific classification of magic, one that consumed not the mana in somebody's body or environment, but the very essence that kept them alive.
"Their soul."
Out of the house, in the backyard about a couple of yards wide, Lieren stood with a determined glimmer in his eyes.
Dying Will, the next step of Mana Burst, and considered as one of the most powerful forms of magic able to be casted by a singular individual at any times.
Mana Burst was a much weaker, more tame version of the Dying Will. It is the practice of using mana, most often Augmentation, beyond what a mage is capable of for the briefest of moments in quick bursts. While powerful, it is very taxing to the user, as it forces their muscles and bones, as well as mana channels to perform beyond their regular capacity, making the technique more suited for short fights, though it can also be used for longer fights, though less frequently.
The Dying Will was exactly what one would assume it to be: the last of vestiges of life being consumed in a cacophonous mix of blazing emotions, with the brightest and most powerful spark igniting the flame that burns a mage's soul, until death, providing them with power beyond imagination, until they inevitably run out of said resource and fall unconscious… forever.
"Right here should be fine."
In some exceedingly rare cases documented throughout history, there have been a sparing amount of people able to use magic even after death. Or rather, their spells become autonomous and everlasting, following the user's will, purpose, and existence. This has been touted as Post-Mortem magic, the most dangerous and powerful of all spells a mage can ever perform.
Stretching his arms and legs, muscles an bones, Lieren looked forward where two wooden statues stood unmoving, forever transfixed on their posts.
Closing his eyes, Lieren dug deep inside himself, into the core of his being, and took in a deep breath, gathering as much mana as he could… then expelled it.
Opening his eyes, Lieren saw a pure white ball of mana floating mere centimeters from his outstretched arm.
Emission, one of the two main applications of Detachment, the practice of detaching pure mana away from the caster. It is one of the most common and important aspects of magic, with most mages relying on its emissive ability to cast devastating spell. It is commonly used in conjunction with Transmutation, creating the classic image of a robed mage casting a great ball of fire from its wooden staff. Most of the spells that exist in the world employ some kind Emission in some way, making natural-born-affinity wielders, Recreants in other words, one of the most sought-after mages in the world.
Under normal circumstances, Lieren would never have been able to tap into this category, no matter how hard he tried in all of his life because of his Resistance, the category of which he has not been able to figure out even to this day. He had made no conscious effort to do so, and since the ability has mostly been harmless despite its foreboding description, he has just decided keep quiet about the mysterious ability.
Lieren scowled deeply, his brows furrowing and his forehead wrinkling, as if he was an old man. Which he wasn't, he was just annoyed at himself.
"Keep focus!"
Turning his attention back to the pure white ball of man, he gripped his outstretched arm's wrist, cutting off the flow of blood from it, numbing his hand until it felt like hundreds of needles are being stabbed through it continuously, shallow enough to not kill him and deep enough to cause immense pain.
…And yet, he continued.
It was the least he could do, given the circumstances.
Sweat flowed down his face as he held the shape, the construct, and the mana within and outside of the pure white ball, holding its stability for even the smallest fraction of a second longer… then pushed himself some more.
Until it felt like his arm was going to fall off.
"Too… much…!"
Gasping tiredly, Lieren let go of the pure white ball and heaved for air to fill his lungs and flow through his arm. The thousands of tiny prickles were still there, taunting him, but he tried his best to ignore it. As hard as that was to achieve.
He looked at his arm with disappointment.
"So, this is my limit, huh? I honestly expected it to be higher."
Since his first spell, Invisible Abjuration, employed Emission as its main component to arrow, with Transmutation being a secondary, granting it the ability to distort the space around it and cause an explosion in the very fabric of reality, Lieren expected that he could somehow overpower his Resistance through experience and practice, but ultimately failed.
Still, though, he was making progress.
…Once, when Red was still with him, Lieren tried to use Emission while he was still recovering from his leg injury, only to burn out his mana reserves and fry his brain trying to comprehend the unfamiliar action with all that he could. Coupled with his intrinsic Resistance, practicing Emission, or rather Detachment itself had always been a pipe-dream for him. Until now.
Closing his eyes, Lieren clenched his fist and smiled.
He was making steady, relevant progress. He may not be able to achieve what regular mages his age could his age, but he was going up there.
Opening his eyes, Lieren smiled, somewhat satisfied… only to open them wide in shock.
"Huh?"
An unfamiliar girl, about his age, stood before him, a bright and insidious smile etched on her face.
"Hello there, fellow teen. What a beautiful day to have a fruitful discussion about future oncoming, would you not think?"