The room was silent, save for the faint crackle of a single candle casting uneven shadows on the walls. Alex sat cross-legged on the bed, his back straight, his hands resting on his knees. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and deliberate. The tension in the air was palpable, and faint beads of sweat had begun to form on his forehead.
Deep within him, he could sense it: the mana core. It was there, pulsing steadily, a dense wellspring of energy at the center of his being. Alex had spent the last few hours preparing for this moment, his mind replaying Maren's instructions like a mantra.
"To progress, you need to compress your mana core. Think of it as a rubber ball. Use your will to reshape it, condense it, and make it stable."
He inhaled deeply, focusing all his attention inward. The mana core had grown larger due to the accumulation of mana at the peak of Rank 1, and now it needed to be compressed.
"Compress it," Alex told himself, his brow twitching as he concentrated.
He extended his will toward the core like invisible hands. It was a strange, almost surreal sensation—reaching for something within himself that wasn't physical yet felt as real as his heartbeat. The core responded, its edges sharpening under the pressure of his focus.
Alex gritted his teeth slightly. Compressing the mana core wasn't an easy task. The core naturally resisted, its dense energy pushing back against his efforts.
The resistance was strong, as though it had a mind of its own. A sharp pain radiated through Alex's chest, making him wince, but he held firm. He adjusted his focus, visualizing the core as something malleable, something he could reshape with enough effort.
Slowly, the mana energy around the core began to respond. It resisted less, the surges smoothing into steady waves. Alex pressed harder, his breathing steady despite the strain. Bit by bit, the mana core began to contract, its oversized form shrinking as he compressed it with his will.
The process was slow. Minutes felt like hours as he worked, his entire body tense, his mind fully absorbed in the task. The candle flickered as a faint ripple of mana filled the room, a quiet hum vibrating through the air.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the core stopped resisting. Alex could feel it now—smaller, denser, more stable. The mana within his core had increased almost tenfold. He realized he could now use Wind Blades nearly 200 times effortlessly, compared to the 20 or 25 times he could manage before.
Just as he was checking his mana core, a surge of thoughts flooded his mind. In that moment, he was struck by numerous inspirations for new techniques and spells. At the same time, his right hand began to itch—a strange, almost burning sensation. Alex clenched his fist, trying to focus on the ideas flowing into him. He wanted to hold onto the moment, to extract every last inspiration, but exhaustion crept over him. The flashes of creativity dimmed, and the ideas slipped away as fatigue claimed him.
He opened his eyes slowly, exhaling as the tension left his body. The dim room seemed sharper now, the air lighter. The constant pressure in his chest was gone, replaced by a quiet warmth that spread through his limbs.
He glanced at his right hand—and froze.
The hand that had been missing for so long was back. He stared at it in disbelief, flexing his fingers to confirm it was real. He had known his hand could be healed at the Healers' Guild, but the cost had always been beyond his reach. "I never thought a breakthrough could heal something like this," he murmured. Even Maren hadn't mentioned such a possibility.
It had been almost a day since the incident between Alex and Lyra happened. Alex sat quietly, reflecting on the events. Despite being only twelve years old, his height was nearly 5.5 feet, making him look closer to eighteen years old. He didn't fully understand why he appeared so tall, but he suspected it had something to do with his mana awakening.
After that incident, Alex had tried to threaten Lyra, claiming he would tell everyone she was the princess. His smirk had been confident as he began, imagining the leverage he could gain. But before he could finish, Lyra countered sharply, her expression unyielding.
"I'll just tell everyone that you're my boyfriend," she said with a calm yet cutting tone. "That you helped me escape. And don't forget—the guards at the entrance saw you with me. Do you really think they'll hesitate to take you in if I say the word?"
The words stopped Alex in his tracks. His initial reaction was anger, his hand twitching as his thoughts raced to darker places. The idea of silencing her permanently crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. The guards had already warned they would check in periodically, and any sudden actions on his part could easily backfire. He forced himself to stay calm, suppressing the irritation boiling within him.
Instead, Alex chose a different path—one that worked to his advantage. Despite her threat, he realized he still held considerable authority over Lyra. She couldn't act recklessly without putting herself in danger, and he made sure to use that to his benefit.
By leveraging their precarious situation, Alex started delegating all the housework to Lyra. Cleaning, cooking, fetching supplies—everything fell on her shoulders. Though reluctant, Lyra complied, gritting her teeth and muttering under her breath as she carried out the chores. Alex, meanwhile, observed with a mix of satisfaction and amusement, lounging as she worked.
"I need to start thinking about how to make money for now," Alex sighed as he muttered to himself.