Six months had passed since the blood moon, and the forest surrounding the village had returned to its eerie silence. Nicolas sat outside, cross-legged. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration, sweat glistening on his forehead as he closed his eyes and tried, once again, to move the multicolored gas that had taken root inside his body.
The gas was mana—something he had discovered two months after the blood moon, something he had never heard. It had always been in stories, a form of energy that only the mages could wield. But now, it was real, and it was inside him. He could feel it swirling in his core, yet no matter how much he struggled, it wouldn't obey him.
For the past two months, Nicolas had tried every method he could think of. He would sit in this very spot for hours, focusing all his energy on moving the mana. He had tried visualizing it as water, flowing through his veins. He had tried breathing techniques, even attempting to force it out of his body through sheer willpower. But nothing worked. The mana remained stubborn, swirling just beyond his control.
Nicolas sighed. "There has to be a way," he muttered to himself. He had read about mages in the novel who can manipulate mana as easily as breathing, shaping it into powerful spells or channeling it into their physical strength. He was determined to do the same.
But then, a thought struck him. What if he was going about it the wrong way? All this time, he had been trying to force the mana to move with his body, but what if it wasn't about physical control at all? What if it was about mental power? He recalled an old story his privious self read it, about a mage who could move mountains with nothing more than a thought. "The mind is the key," the mage had said. "Not the body."
Inspired by this memory, Nicolas decided to try something different. He closed his eyes again, but this time, instead of focusing on his body, he focused on his mental power. He imagined himself reaching out with his thoughts, gently nudging the mana inside him, coaxing it to move like a sleeping animal being woken up. Slowly, he felt something stir within him—a faint pulse of energy, like a heartbeat.
Excitement flared in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He knew this was only the beginning. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out with his mental power, wrapping it around the multicolored gas. He visualized it as a mist, delicate and light, swirling in the space around his navel. He didn't try to force it this time; instead, he gently guided it, like a feather caught in the wind.
For the first time, the mana responded. It moved—slowly at first, but it moved. Nicolas could feel it drifting inside him, shifting from his chest to his arms, then down to his fingertips, where it tingled against his skin. He opened his eyes in awe, watching as the faintest golden glow appeared beneath his palms.
"I did it," he whispered, barely able to believe it. The key had been his mental power all along. His body had been too rigid, too focused on the physical. But the mind—that was fluid, adaptable. With the right focus, he could control the mana.
Over the next two months, Nicolas dedicated every waking moment to mastering this new form of control. He would sit for hours, practicing with the mana, moving it from one part of his body to another, trying to make it react to his will. He discovered that the more he practiced, the easier it became. The mana seemed to recognize his intent, responding faster and with more intensity each time. It was as if he was forging a bond with the energy, learning its nature while it learned his.
However, simply moving the mana wasn't enough. He needed to find a way to use it, to harness its power. So he turned his attention to the earth. The earth, after all, was the source of all life—the foundation of the world. If he could channel his mana into the earth, perhaps he could unlock its secrets, or at the very least, understand how to manipulate the environment around him.
One crisp morning, after weeks of practice, Nicolas sat cross-legged in his usual spot, his hands pressing firmly against the soil. The multicolored gas hummed inside him, flowing freely now as he guided it with his thoughts. He focused all his attention on the ground beneath him, visualizing his mana seeping into the earth like water soaking into a sponge.
He could feel the mana leaving his body, spreading out in thin tendrils beneath his palms. It flowed into the earth, disappearing into the soil. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, he felt something shift—a faint tremor beneath his hands, so subtle it was almost imperceptible.
Excitement surged through him, but he kept his focus steady. This was progress, but it was delicate work. He continued to push the mana into the ground, using his mental power to guide it deeper, searching for some kind of reaction.
"Come on," he whispered, his breath shallow. "Show me something."
The earth trembled again, a little stronger this time. Nicolas could feel the mana connecting with something beneath the surface. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he was close. He poured more of his mana into the ground, his hands pressing harder into the soil as if he could physically reach whatever lay beneath.
The tremor grew, the ground beneath him vibrating softly, like the heartbeat of the earth itself. He smiled faintly, a sense of accomplishment filling him. "So this is it," he thought. "This is how they did it—the mages. It's all about connection. Not force, not power, but understanding."
He had spent so much time trying to control the mana, but now he realized that the key wasn't control at all—it was harmony. The mana was a part of the earth, just as it was a part of him. If he could align himself with it, if he could understand its flow, then he could unlock its true potential.
"There's so much more to learn," he thought, his heart racing with anticipation.