It had only been a few days since Marcus departed for his ancestral lands, but life at the Institute hadn't slowed down for me. Tomas, my most trusted knight and the commander of my Order of the Luminarias, arrived with the rest of our company. He was not alone. Behind him were 300 of the finest horses from the Ducal stables, each one carefully selected for what was to come.
These weren't just any horses. They represented the future of our Order, and today we were beginning a process that had never been attempted before—the infusion of Mantícora blood into their veins. The Mantícora was a creature of legend, a demonic beast with the body of a lion, the wings of a bat, and a venomous tail. Its blood was known for granting immense strength and the ability to manipulate aura, which is why it was chosen. But the Mantícora's power was volatile, and it would take all of our knowledge in purification and blood manipulation to make this experiment a success.
Tomas met me in the courtyard. His face, calm but determined, reflected the weight of what we were about to do.
"I've prepared everything, Lord Raimon," Tomas said, his voice steady. "The men and the horses are ready."
I nodded, knowing full well how much this moment meant not just to him, but to all of us. "Good. Today we begin something no one in the history of the Empire has dared to attempt."
Morrison approached us, his usual calm demeanor in place, but I could sense the excitement behind his eyes. "The stables are secure," he said, "and no one outside our group knows what's happening."
"That's the most important part," I replied. "We can't afford to attract any unwanted attention. This project needs to stay under wraps."
March and Mancil joined us shortly after, both of them eager to see how the Mantícora blood would affect the horses. They knew, just as I did, that if successful, these mounts would become unmatched on the battlefield.
March grinned, his excitement barely contained. "I still can't believe we're going to see this," he said. "Warhorses with Mantícora blood? If this works, the Luminarias will be unstoppable."
Mancil, always more measured, nodded. "If it works," he reminded us. "The Mantícora is a dangerous beast. Its blood could overwhelm the horses if the purification process fails."
He wasn't wrong. The Mantícora blood, while powerful, was also unpredictable. But we had refined the purification rituals over the past six months. We were ready.
The process began at dawn, deep within the secure stables of the Institute, far from prying eyes. The Mantícora blood, purified and glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light, was carefully infused into each horse.
Each horse, one by one, underwent the transformation. Their bodies glowed faintly as the Mantícora's power fused with their essence. We watched carefully, monitoring their vital signs and ensuring that the purification held. These horses, once ordinary mounts, were becoming something far more.
Tomas stood at the head of the stables, his face lit by the glow of the Mantícora blood. His aura flickered around him like a silver flame, a testament to his unbreakable will.
By the time we finished, 300 horses had been successfully infused with the Mantícora's blood. Their muscles rippled with newfound strength, their eyes gleamed with intelligence, and their bodies radiated a subtle but undeniable power.
"This... this is amazing," March said, his voice filled with awe. "They're like nothing I've ever seen."
"They're not just horses anymore," Morrison added, his emerald aura swirling softly. "They've become something greater."
Tomas stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the transformed horses. "We've done it," he said quietly, turning to me. "The Luminarias' future is set."
I couldn't help but smile, pride swelling in my chest. "This is only the beginning," I said. "These horses will set the standard for our Order. No one else in the Empire will have anything like them."
But as much as I wanted to celebrate, I knew that our work was far from over. While the Mantícora blood had been a success for the horses, Tomas's own transformation would have to wait. We needed something far stronger for him—the blood of the Glacial Wolf Demon, a beast that roamed the northern forest, one of the most dangerous creatures in existence.
Through the letters I exchanged with my grandfather, I had learned that Sir Leon had been severely injured in the battle against the Crescent Moon's forces. It would take him three months to recover, and only then could the hunt for the Glacial Wolf begin.
Tomas understood this. His time would come, but for now, his focus was on improving himself in every possible way. His training was relentless—strengthening his body, refining his aura, and tempering his will to prepare for the immense power that would soon be his.
In the days that followed the Mantícora blood infusion, the tension began to ease. We allowed ourselves brief moments of relaxation, gathering in the evenings to talk about our plans for the future.
One evening, as we sat by the fountain, the firelight casting flickering shadows across our faces, March stretched out with a content sigh. "I still can't believe what we've done. Mantícora-blooded warhorses? It's the stuff of legends."
Morrison nodded, but his expression remained thoughtful. "The hard part is yet to come," he said. "Tomas still needs the Wolf's blood. That will be the real test."
I glanced over at Tomas, who was still sparring with a weighted sword under the moonlight. "He'll be ready," I said. "When the time comes, he'll be stronger than anyone can imagine."
Mancil leaned forward, his eyes serious. "And when that time comes, we'll need to be prepared for whatever challenges follow. This kind of power doesn't go unnoticed."
I knew he was right. The world was changing, and we were at the center of it. What we were doing now would have far-reaching consequences, but I wasn't afraid. With my friends by my side, I knew we could face whatever was coming.
The night before Tomas's formal presentation to the Order, I met with him in the stables, where the Mantícora-infused horses stood quietly, their powerful forms casting long shadows.
"How do you feel?" I asked, breaking the silence.
Tomas turned to me, his expression calm but determined. "Stronger," he said. "But I know the real test is still ahead. When the time comes, I'll be ready to take on the Glacial Wolf's blood."
I placed a hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze. "You've already proven yourself, Tomas. This is just another step on your path. When the time comes, we'll face the Wolf together."
For now, our focus would remain on the horses, and on preparing for what was to come. Tomas's transformation would wait, but the Mantícora-blooded mounts were already a victory.
As I sat in my room that night, reviewing the results of the day's experiments, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. We were on the brink of something monumental.
The world was changing, and we were ready to lead it.
With those thoughts, I leaned back, allowing myself a brief moment of satisfaction before focusing on the tasks ahead.