Atop the table, Fizzlegrin gazed in astonishment as Thorian sifted through the mound of spent mana rocks. The moment the flame kobold imbued his first stone, pride welled up inside Fizzlegrin, urging him to commend the impressive feat. But the words remained captive in his throat, held there by the sight of Thorian’s unwavering, almost mesmeric concentration. Such a deep immersion, a marriage of mind and task, was a rare sight, and Fizzlegrin would not be the one to shatter that sacred moment.

He's processing these rocks at a staggering pace. More are needed.

Silently, Fizzlegrin cleared away the shards and remnants, and with quiet care, he replaced them with a fresh heap of depleted rocks, ensuring they lay in the exact same position as before. He knew the importance of rhythm, the sanctity of flow.

Time seemed to blur and meld as Thorian continued his meticulous task. Fizzlegrin's role had become one of silent support; replenishing when necessary and clearing away the debris. As he watched Thorian, there was an unmistakable glint of joy in his eyes, a reminiscent warmth. Witnessing someone lose themselves entirely to their passion evoked memories, reminding the guild master of his own fervent days of youth.

* * *

Thorian's hands moved with practiced ease, instinctively selecting each rock, allowing him to focus his entire concentration on honing his mana sense. Infusing the stones with mana was a delicate task, akin to threading a needle through gossamer fabric. It required a precise balance of force and direction, an intuition he had gained through grueling hours of practice and mountains of depleted mana rocks.

But just as he was about to complete the infusion for yet another rock, he hit an invisible wall. His mana simply dissipated, refusing to push any further. Confusion was quickly replaced by the sudden awareness of fatigue flooding his senses. He was drained, his mana reserves entirely depleted.

His gaze lifted from the table to find Fizzlegrin's broad smile waiting to greet him.

"You have quite the deep well of mana, my lord," Fizzlegrin remarked, clearly impressed. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to last this long. You've surprised me."

Gathering himself for a moment, Thorian asked the first question that sprang to mind. "How many rocks did I successfully infuse?"

"Seventy-three," Fizzlegrin answered, grinning even wider. "As for the ones you broke, that would be five hundred and thirty-five. That puts your overall success rate at thirteen percent."

"So this places me just above the rank of an adept?" Thorian sighed, struggling against the overwhelming urge to collapse. His depleted mana was one thing, but the mental exhaustion weighed even heavier.

Fizzlegrin glanced wryly at the overflowing bin of discarded rocks before returning his gaze to Thorian. "If you look at your last two hundred attempts, you'll find your success rate was closer to seventeen percent. That's edging towards the territory of an expert rather than an adept."

A ripple of pride surged through Thorian, and he nodded, smiling faintly. "That's heartening to hear. Still, I've consumed quite a few of your depleted mana rocks. I hope I haven't strained your reserves."

Fizzlegrin burst into laughter. "Worry not. At this early stage, I have enough reserves to keep a hundred of you busy for a month!"

Though Thorian smiled in return, his gaze began to wander. The conversation was engaging, but he could no longer ignore the siren call of deep-rooted fatigue.

"It's been a pleasure, Guild Master," Thorian said, rising from his chair and fighting to keep his eyes open. "I'll take my leave for now. I'll return later to complete the remaining quest."

"As you wish, my lord," Fizzlegrin replied, his tone crisp yet understanding of Thorian's mental state.

With that, Thorian exited the guild, making his way towards his home. As he moved through the living room, he noticed Harald was conspicuously absent.

He must have already woken up.

With that final observation, Thorian mustered just enough energy to reach his bed. The moment his head touched the pillow, he surrendered to sleep, drifting away into a well-deserved rest.

* * *

Perched on the ledge of the village's outer wall, Aqua surveyed the land beyond. Although the fire from yesterday had consumed the remains of monsters from their earlier battles, fresh carcasses now lay atop the ashen vestiges. Two squadrons under his command patrolled the immediate area, while the remaining two ventured deeper into the forest, scouting for any lurking threats.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A rustling from the tree line snapped Aqua's attention back to the present. Bursting from the woods, a trio of thumpalomps—giant horned rabbits—charged at the patrolling goblins. A wave of shrill cries erupted from the troops.

Just as the razor-sharp horns of the thumpalomps were about to skewer a greenhorn goblin, Aqua conjured three small spheres of water. With swift precision, he launched them at the approaching beasts, each sphere finding its mark and felling the creatures.

"Th-thank you!" The nearly impaled goblin looked up toward the wall, relief flooding his features as he thanked his unit leader. Aqua responded with a brief nod, then shifted his gaze to Brix, the shaman apprentice who was napping atop the wall, basking in the sunlight.

"Brix, you should be watching your men," Aqua chided the lackadaisical goblin.

Rising with a yawn, Brix replied nonchalantly, "I was, in a manner of speaking. Besides, there's little I could've done in that situation. My expertise lies in healing and blessings, not combat. That's your domain, magus."

Aqua's brow furrowed, preparing a retort, but before he could speak, a deep rumble echoed from within the village, cutting him off.

"What's that? An earthquake?" One of the goblin foot soldiers looked up, terror widening his eyes.

"No, it's not," Aqua reassured, his gaze drawn back to the village where a plume of dust had erupted from its center. "Our king is upgrading the village."

"Already?" Brix perked up, following Aqua's line of sight. "Wonder what's changed this time. The last upgrade brought that enormous building, but it was empty—just some empty rooms."

"It serves a purpose, I'm sure," Aqua mused, his eyes thoughtful. "I've seen our king enter it multiple times. There must be something in there that transcends our understanding."

"Makes sense," Brix said, his expression turning mischievous. "Want to go check out what's new? I'm curious."

Aqua arched an eyebrow at Brix's suggestion. "We have a duty to guard this wall. What would you do if an enemy force invaded while we were off exploring?"

Brix stifled a laugh, turning his gaze toward the units patrolling beyond the wall. "Who in this forest could possibly challenge such an army?" He gestured at the diverse troops—mainly goblins, but also two high orcs, four evolved kobolds, and a goblin champion leading the second squadron.

"Come on, we won't be long," Brix urged, waving away Aqua's concerns with a flick of his wrist.

Aqua weighed the options, his eyes darting between the village center and the two patrolling squadrons. Finally, he exhaled a deep sigh. "Fine, but we make it quick."

Brix's eyes widened for a moment before he nodded approvingly. "I knew you had a sense of adventure in you."

Muttering under his breath, Aqua followed Brix toward the inner village. The first thing they noticed—along with the throng of curious civilians—were the newly transformed guild halls. While still made of wood, the structures now boasted an updated, richer texture, and their color had deepened to a glowing dark brown from the previous light hue.

Yet it was the mysterious building that immediately seized Aqua's attention. It had expanded dramatically, now featuring a dozen visible rooms flanking a central corridor, even from their distant vantage point.

"Shall we go explore?" Brix asked, his eyes mirroring Aqua's curiosity.

With a nod, Aqua agreed, and the two made their way toward the cultivation hall. The civilian crowd of goblins and kobolds watched in awe but kept their distance, allowing Aqua and Brix to move easily through them and into the building.

Once inside, they encountered two elderly figures, each sporting long beards but dressed in contrasting robes—one in light yellow and the other in dark purple. To their surprise, the elders were in deep conversation with two familiar figures.

"Ah, Ifrit and Ventus are already here?" Brix observed, his eyes narrowing as he recognized their two friends.

On the other hand, Aqua's brow furrowed further at the sight of the two elemental kobolds. "You're supposed to be on duty at the southern gate," he admonished, marching deliberately toward them.

“Huh, who is talking to me like that?” Ventus spun around, a sardonic grin splitting his face. "Ah, should've guessed. It is Mr. Killjoy coming in person"

"And what about you?" Ifrit retorted. "Aren't you assigned to the northern gate? Seems hypocritical to lecture us on duty."

Aqua's normally blue cheeks flushed a shade of red. He opened his mouth to reply but caught himself, his eyes darting toward Brix, who was wearing an insufferably smug look.

"Didn't think you had it in you to bend the rules," Ventus taunted, taking further pleasure in Aqua's discomfort. Then his gaze shifted to Brix, and understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, so it was you, Brix. Now it makes sense. For a moment, I thought Aqua had grown a personality."

The tension was broken by the old man in the yellow robe, who stepped in with a warm, jovial laugh. "Why don't we all just calm down? Although I must say, I thought I'd seen everything with elemental kobolds. A talking goblin certainly adds more color to the picture."

"Indeed, our time here promises to be most interesting," added the second elder, hands clasped behind his back.

Aqua, grateful for the intervention, cleared his throat. "My name is Aqua. May I have the honor of knowing your names, gentlemen, and what exactly this place is?"

The yellow-robed elder stroked his beard, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "It seems the lord of this village hasn't fully briefed you yet. No matter. I am Lie Jie, and this is Jing Xu." Then, with a sweeping gesture, he introduced the impressive structure around them. "Welcome to the cultivation hall."