Above Operon, the air was still charged with the lingering power of the high-ranking mages who had flown past. Their synchronized movements, fluid as water, left both Cedar and Ivan awestruck.
"So this is the level of high-ranking mages," Ivan muttered, his voice filled with amazement. "I've heard stories, but seeing it in action is... different."
Cedar nodded, his gaze still fixed on the sky where the mages had vanished. "One day, we might stand at that level too," he said, though the road ahead seemed endless.
Ivan glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Sure, one day."
The display of power left an impression on them both—a vivid reminder of the gulf that lay between them and those who could dominate the skies.
Mages of such caliber were needed on the front lines, where the Imperium's forces clashed in their fiercest battles. Meanwhile, the city's defense fell to those who remained—mages like Cedar and Ivan, inexperienced but determined.
After the high-ranking mages departed, the atmosphere in Operon shifted.
Patrol duties were redistributed, and Cedar's unit was tasked with securing the city's perimeter. The absence of the most powerful mages left the city vulnerable, and every passing moment felt heavy with the possibility of an attack.
Three days of relentless patrols followed, each step honing Cedar's resolve. The streets of Operon, both crowded and eerily quiet, bore the marks of a city on edge. It was during these patrols, amidst the tension and ceaseless effort, that Cedar felt the change deep within him.
Cedar's mana core, honed through days of relentless practice and purification with Ivan's guidance, finally reached its breaking point.
A faint flicker deep within his core quickly surged into a tidal wave of energy, roaring through his body like a dam bursting open.
Focusing his mind, Cedar began to channel the raw mana. Slowly, a new circle began to form between the two existing ones. The outer circles spun at blinding speed, glowing with vibrant energy as they forged the third circle with precision.
Sparks of red and blue magic collided, each impact leaving an imprint on the forming circle, shaping it like molten metal being hammered into place.
The new circle glowed crimson, pulsing with life as it stabilized around his core. The transformation was far from subtle—his once-blue core shifted, its hue darkening with streaks of pink and red.
The ember left by Len, long dormant, was drawn in like fuel, spreading across his core and infusing it with a potent vitality.
As the process concluded, Cedar felt an undeniable shift. His core's rank surged from D to C+, nearly rivaling Ivan's. But this wasn't just an increase in power—it was a fundamental enhancement of his very being.
His talents, once limited, had expanded. The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of strength, clarity, and newfound potential.
The intoxicating rush of power left Cedar breathless. His core felt alive, vibrant, and far more refined than it had ever been.
Ivan, standing nearby, noticed the change immediately. His eyes lit up with a mixture of pride and excitement. "You did it!" he exclaimed, clapping Cedar on the shoulder with a broad grin. "Welcome to the third circle."
Cedar exhaled deeply, his hands trembling slightly as he steadied himself. The weight of the achievement settled on him, along with the realization that this was only the beginning.
"Thanks," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Cedar smirked, his breath still catching up with the transformation. "Looks like we're finally catching up to each other."
As they shared a brief moment of camaraderie, a familiar presence stirred in Cedar's mind. Len's voice, cold yet approving, echoed with authority.
"Good," Len said. "You've reached the third circle. This system may lack refinement, but it is serviceable. Continue for now—it will suffice until you are ready for something tailored to your nature."
The words carried weight, as always. Cedar knew Len spoke of magic systems beyond the circle method, relics of the Old Magic era that promised untold power.
But he also knew he wasn't ready for those yet. For now, the third circle was enough—a milestone that opened new possibilities.
Ivan's grin widened. "We're making progress. Maybe soon we'll be the ones people look up to."
Cedar chuckled but said nothing. The memory of the high-ranking mages still lingered, a reminder that even this achievement was only the first step. The road ahead remained treacherous, but with his new strength, he felt more prepared than ever.
The patrols continued, the city's tension unbroken.
However, peace would not last. The fragile peace in Operon shattered abruptly.
The call for emergency evacuation came without warning. News spread like wildfire—the Union's attempt to retake Aelith had ended in disaster.
Two high-ranking mages had perished, their forces decimated. Survivors limped back, broken and battered, bringing grim tidings: the Imperium's advance was faster and more ferocious than anyone had anticipated.
The once-bustling trade hub of Operon, fortified though it was, had now become a prime target.
Evacuation efforts kicked into overdrive. Operon's status as a major trade center worked in its favor, but even its resources were strained.
The city's airships began ferrying civilians to safer territories, while teleportation gates—positioned miles outside the city due to their complex mechanisms and immense energy demands—were prepared to handle the mass exodus.
Families clutching their belongings poured through the streets toward designated routes, desperate to escape the impending siege. Soldiers and city guards directed the chaos, working tirelessly to ensure order amidst the panic.
Amid the turmoil, Cedar and Ivan received their assignments. They had barely exchanged words about Cedar's recent breakthrough when the orders came down.
Ivan was sent with a logistics team to oversee the transfer of critical supplies—weapons, food, and medicinal stocks that could not be left behind. Cedar, meanwhile, was reassigned to a high-priority unit tasked with escorting noble families and high-ranking officers' kin to the teleportation gates.
The separation was abrupt, leaving no time for protest.
"Stay sharp," Ivan said, gripping Cedar's shoulder firmly. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. "We'll regroup when this is over."
Cedar nodded, his expression equally grim. "Watch yourself. The supply lines are always the first to get hit."
"Don't worry about me," Ivan replied with a faint smirk. "I've got a good team. Just focus on your nobles."
And with that, they parted ways, each disappearing into the throng of soldiers and civilians scrambling to prepare for the city's potential fall.
Cedar's new assignment was anything but easy. Escorting the noble families to the distant teleportation gates was a logistical and psychological challenge.
The nobles, terrified and out of their element, were difficult to manage. Their fear manifested in sharp commands and unreasonable expectations, testing Cedar's patience at every turn.
But he stayed focused—these families' influence and resources were critical to the Union's war effort, and their survival couldn't be jeopardized.
The journey to the teleportation gates was fraught with tension. The gates, located in an open field surrounded by hastily erected defenses, buzzed with magical energy as they processed thousands of evacuees.
Long lines of civilians stretched across the landscape, watched over by anxious guards. Teleportation wasn't instantaneous—each jump required time to recharge the mechanisms, and the strain of continuous use made the structures groan under the pressure.
Airships circled above, ferrying evacuees who couldn't reach the gates. Cedar's unit worked tirelessly, ensuring the nobles reached the teleportation queue safely. As the hours dragged on, the weight of the situation grew heavier.
Each delay felt like an invitation for the Imperium to strike, and the ever-present hum of tension made every shadow and distant sound seem like the start of an attack.
Even as chaos loomed on the horizon, Cedar couldn't let his focus waver.