Cedar's vision abruptly went blank as a surge of unknown energy tore through his mind, emptying it completely. Then, the vision struck once again.
This time, he was no longer the wild Magloth but a mage clad in a blue robe, standing atop a towering mountain. He wasn't the Imperium officer he had killed either but an ancient mage with a long, flowing white beard.
Despite his age, the man stood tall and imposing, exuding an aura of power.
From his vantage point, Cedar could see a colossal titan looming on the horizon. Its immense form stretched far beyond normal sight, its head disappearing into the clouds. The mage gripped a wooden staff, raising it high into the air as he began to chant.
The air around him rippled, responding to his words. Invisible mana stirred, spiraling toward the staff until it became visible, twisting and writhing like a vortex.
The mage's voice boomed like thunder, each word resonating directly within Cedar's mind, as though it bypassed his ears entirely.
As the chant continued, dark, tempestuous clouds began to gather above the mage's head, blotting out the once-clear blue sky. Black and grey churned together, crackling with energy.
When the chant reached its crescendo, the mage roared with a voice that shook the heavens:
"By the rage of skies, the winds shall rise,
Through clouds and storms, chaos cries.
The heavens roar, the ground shall quake,
Let lightning strike, and the storm awake!"
"Nacht Tempestas!"
With his final cry, the storm clouds above coalesced into a massive cyclone laced with black lightning. The storm raged with ferocity, descending toward the approaching titan.
Bang!
The impact was cataclysmic. The cyclone unleashed a wave of destruction, obliterating everything within its reach. The sheer force scorched the ground and reduced the surroundings to ash. The titan, once so imposing, vanished entirely, as though it had never existed.
The storm subsided after a few seconds, leaving only a massive, gaping void where the titan had once stood. The scene was carved into Cedar's mind, each detail etched in vivid clarity.
Suddenly, the vision ended, and Cedar opened his eyes. He found himself once again in the familiar yet unsettling void of his dreams—silent, dark, and utterly still. The stark contrast from the chaos he had just witnessed left him momentarily speechless.
Ivan's voice broke the silence, curious and eager.
"What did you see?" he asked, leaning forward slightly. Cedar had once described what he saw through the Magloth's eyes, and Ivan was eager to know if this vision revealed insights into the enemy soldier's life—or perhaps even critical intel.
Cedar's voice was firm, tinged with awe. "I saw old magic," he said.
The power he had witnessed was unlike anything in this era. It wasn't the crude imitation of black thunder used by the Imperium officer.
No, this was something far more ancient, far more terrifying—a legendary force from myths, capable of reshaping the world itself.
"Hey now, don't tell me you're turning into one of those creepy old seers who spout nonsense at local temples," Ivan said, clearly dissatisfied with Cedar's vague response.
Cedar laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away.
"No, nothing like that. I saw an old mage—a really old one, with wrinkles deep enough to trap a fly. He was standing on top of a mountain, using some kind of ancient magic with outrageous power. He wiped out a titan like it was nothing—like cleaning a smudge off a tower's wall." He kept his description simple, though the memory of the vision still left him in awe.
"Interesting," Len suddenly spoke, his tone contemplative.
Cedar and Ivan both turned to him, curiosity sparking in their eyes. "You know who he was?" Ivan asked eagerly.
Len nodded slowly, as though piecing together fragments of an old memory. "That sounds very much like August Zar—'The Storm Master.' He was the headmaster of the Black Mage Tower in the Arius Kingdom."
Cedar and Ivan exchanged glances before turning their attention back to Len.
"Who was he?" Cedar asked, his curiosity piqued.
Len leaned back, his crimson eyes glimmering faintly as he delved into his recollections.
"August Zar was an orphan, adopted by the previous headmaster of the Black Mage Tower. From a young age, he displayed an extraordinary affinity for weather and destruction magic. He spent most of his life within the tower, devoting himself entirely to magic research. People said he rarely left unless absolutely necessary. To the world, there was no August Zar—only the headmaster of the Black Mage Tower."
"Was he really that powerful?" Ivan asked.
Len's gaze grew distant, as though he were looking into the past. "One of the rare Emperor-level beings in the world," he said solemnly.
"Though he was tied to his human lifespan, he stood at the peak of mortal strength. They say he died of old age, but during his life, his power rivaled even the strongest of his time."
Cedar's eyes widened as he recalled something Len had mentioned before. "Wait," he said, looking at Len. "You said you're a Vampire Emperor… So that means this August Zar was at the same level as you?"
Len's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Yes," he said simply. "But while he mastered the storms, my dominion is over blood. He lived and died as a mortal, bound to his race. I, however, am not so limited."
Cedar felt a shiver run down his spine. The realization of just how immense the gap in power between him and these beings was like staring at the peak of an impossibly high mountain.
Cedar could feel it deep within—what he had witnessed wasn't the full extent of August Zar's power but merely a fragment.
And even with just that fragment, The Storm Master had wiped a titan from existence as if it were nothing more than an insect.
Titans, creatures of legend, were said to be forces of nature themselves. They could divert the flow of rivers, level mountains, and with a single stomp, annihilate entire towns.
Yet, against the sheer might of August Zar's ancient magic, one had vanished without a trace.
This realization didn't terrify Cedar—it ignited something within him.
A hunger, a yearning.
Not fear, but ambition.
Who wouldn't want that kind of power? To wield magic capable of reshaping the world?
"Enough chit-chat," Len interrupted sharply, his tone commanding. "Focus on what you saw. Try to grasp your own version of it. Now."
"Understood, Master Len," Cedar replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the task ahead.
He shifted into a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and forced himself to replay the vision in his mind—the towering mountain, the swirling storm, and the incantation that seemed to burn itself into his memory.
Slowly, he began to murmur, his voice low and deliberate, repeating the words he had heard from the ancient mage.
As Cedar attempted to imitate the magic he had witnessed, his mana core was rapidly drained. A faint, swirling gray cloud began to form in his hands, trembling with unstable energy.
Driven by an instinct he couldn't explain, Cedar clapped his hands together—a motion that wasn't part of August Zar's casting but felt natural to him. With a loud voice, he shouted, "Nacht Tempestas!"
The gray clouds condensed into a miniature cyclone crackling with black thunder. Despite its small size compared to the one in his vision, it carried an undeniable aura of raw destruction as it hurtled toward Len.
But Len didn't flinch. With a simple click of his fingers, the cyclone dissipated into nothingness, vanishing like a candle's flame snuffed out by the wind.
Len raised an eyebrow, his tone both critical and encouraging.
"You've got talent for these instinctive actions. You learn fast—especially from things you see with your own eyes. That's rare."
Cedar exhaled, both drained and exhilarated. But before he could take pride in his attempt, Len continued, his voice sharp. "However, this is far from good enough. What you just tried will drain your mana core completely before you even manage to form your fourth circle. You need to modify it, adapt it to yourself. If not, you'll burn out before you can truly master this."
Cedar nodded, sweat dripping down his forehead. He could feel the strain in his body from the reckless use of mana. "Understood, Master Len. I'll refine it."
"Good," Len said, crossing his arms. "Take what you've seen and felt—but remember, your magic must fit you. This isn't August Zar's power anymore. It's yours."