In the aftermath of the tournament, Avince and Erica walked through the dimly lit hallways, their minds still replaying the intensity of the finals. Avince couldn’t shake the idea that Xiaofei and Cel were on a completely different level, and Erica seemed to share his thoughts.

“So, what do you think?” Erica asked, her voice thoughtful. “If we were up against them, how would we fare?”

Avince sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly? Xiaofei wouldn’t even feel anything from my magic. She’s got the raw power to shrug off anything I could throw at her.” He paused, thinking it over. “And if she can unleash attacks like that without restraint, your healing wouldn’t keep up. Not against that kind of power.”

Erica’s face fell a little, but she nodded. “Yeah. And I don’t exactly have anything in my skill set that could hurt her. She’s too durable.” She gave a small, humorless chuckle. “I have improved a lot during my training, but Xiaofei... she’s on another level.”

Avince could see the same frustration he felt mirrored in Erica’s expression. “Cel, though… I might survive a few moves. His ability would throw off my timing, but I’d still have a chance.” He shook his head. “But the second he gets close with that spear, it’s game over. And keeping him at a distance? Not with the spells I know.”

Erica gave a small, wry smile. “And I’d be in just as much trouble. My whole fighting style depends on getting close and outlasting opponents, but Cel’s precision with that spear… it’d be too much.” Her gaze drifted back to the arena, her brow furrowing. “There’s a big gap between where we are and where they are.”

They fell into silence, the excitement of the matches giving way to quiet introspection. After exchanging goodbyes, they went their separate ways, and Avince headed home, still absorbed in the thoughts of what he’d seen and what he needed to improve.

----------------------------------------

When Avince stepped through the front door, he was surprised to find his father waiting for him, standing beside a cloaked figure with a faint aura of power. Erwin looked up and smiled, gesturing for Avince to join them.

“Avince, welcome back,” his father greeted. “I’d like you to meet Kartana, an old colleague of mine.”

Avince turned to the cloaked figure, who lowered her hood, revealing striking blue eyes that seemed to pierce through him. Her expression was calm, with an air of confidence that only someone of a powerful skill level could exude. Her sharp features, framed by a few loose strands of silver hair, gave her a serious yet graceful appearance.

Kartana nodded in acknowledgment. “So, you’re Erwin’s son,” she said, her voice cool but not unfriendly.

Erwin cleared his throat, glancing between them. “Kartana is an S-rank mage and an archmage. She specializes in mana-intensive abilities. She… has a unique skill, one that she’s honed despite the challenges.”

Kartana smirked slightly. “Or you could say it’s an ability that nearly destroyed me when I was younger. My power requires vast amounts of mana to sustain, and I suffered from severe mana exhaustion more times than I care to count.” Her gaze held Avince’s with a slight curiosity. “It took significant resources and training to reach a point where I could manage it effectively.”

Avince blinked, taken aback. The idea of needing that much mana was daunting, and he could only imagine the discipline and endurance Kartana must have developed to wield her power.

As he glanced at his father, a thought struck him. Just how much had his father spent to bring someone like her to help him?

Kartana didn’t waste any time. “Now, let’s get a sense of what you’re dealing with,” she said, studying Avince closely. Her eyes seemed to glimmer with mana as she reached out, her hand hovering near him. He felt a soft warmth as her mana flowed, examining him.

“Hm,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand after a moment. “You’ve definitely shown signs of mana exhaustion. That’s no surprise. But there’s something else…” She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “There’s evidence of minor soul damage.”

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Avince felt a chill go through him. “Soul damage?” he repeated, the words barely leaving his mouth.

Kartana nodded. “Yes. For most people, their mana acts as a failsafe, automatically healing any minor soul damage over time. But in your case, it seems your mana has been constantly working to repair these small injuries, leaving you drained more often than not. Your reserves might be enough to handle the damage, but just barely—keeping you at a constant low.”

Avince swallowed, the pieces starting to fall into place. “So… my ability,” he started slowly, “if it’s consuming mana… is it also damaging my soul somehow?”

Kartana’s gaze sharpened. “Possibly. Given your abilities, if you’re injured in these simulations, your soul might take a hit as well. When that happens, your body instinctively uses mana to heal the damage. The more injured you get, the more your soul is damaged—and the more mana it needs to recover.”

The realization hit Avince like a punch. That would explain why he needed more mana the more injured he was. He’d thought it was simply due to casting, but if his soul was taking damage, that meant his reserves were being drained even faster.

Erwin’s face turned serious. “Is there any solution to this?”

Kartana crossed her arms, considering. “The soul is much more resilient than most people realize. It can grow stronger through adversity, but… few people have the means to safely train it.” She glanced at Avince. “However, you might have a talent for it, a potential for soul magic, in fact.”

“Soul magic?” Avince echoed, feeling a mix of awe and fear. The term itself sounded powerful but ominous.

Kartana nodded thoughtfully. “It’s not exactly magic in the usual sense. It doesn’t rely on mana as typical spells do; instead, it draws directly from your soul’s energy. A more accurate term for it would be ‘soul arts.’ This type of ability is unique because it channels the raw power of your soul rather than tapping into external mana.”

It’s powerful but incredibly dangerous, as most people lack any way to train or protect their soul directly.” Her tone turned more contemplative. “There’s an S-rank dungeon filled with banshees—creatures that use soul energy to attack directly. It’s called the Howling Abyss, and at its core is a named monster called Akasha.”

Erwin looked grim, while Avince’s stomach twisted at the mention of the banshees. He’d heard of them before—beings whose screams could turn the souls of their enemies into lifeless husks.

“Akasha has claimed many skilled fighters,” Kartana continued, “including an S-rank soul user. His soul was strong, but it turned out that Akasha’s was even stronger, leading to his death.” She sighed. “A soul user’s greatest enemy is another soul user with a stronger spirit.”

The silence stretched as Avince took in her words. “But… why did he die? Aren't S-rank supposed to be strong?”

“His affinity for magic was embarrassingly low,” Kartana sneered. “For an S-rank, he might as well have been a novice with how poorly he managed it. He relied too much on soul magic, completely neglecting the fundamentals. If he'd had even a hint of talent in other types of magic, he could've used it offensively. But you, on the other hand, seem to have a decent mana reserve—rare for someone your age and without any special ability to boost your affinity. You might already be leagues ahead of him.”

With a faint smile, Kartana reached into her cloak, drawing a pendant from her spatial ring and tossing it to Avince. He caught it, his gaze lingering for a moment on the ring she wore—a spatial artifact, sleek and unobtrusive, but undoubtedly expensive. Avince couldn't help but marvel at its value, wondering how much that kind of storage cost. Grateful for his own ability to store items within his ability.

“This is a modified artifact I created,” Kartana said. “It pulses mana into the wearer, gradually restoring their reserves when it’s supplied with either monster cores or an external mana source.”

Erwin’s expression turned serious. “How much?” he asked Kartana, his tone firm and unwavering, fully prepared to tap into their savings if necessary.

Kartana waved him off. “Your previous payments have covered enough, Erwin. Besides, consider it a freebie—I’m intrigued by Avince’s potential.” She shot Avince an amused look. “But you can owe me one.”

Avince winced, suddenly realizing how much his father must’ve spent to arrange all of this. The pendant in his hand held an energy unlike any he’d felt before, a faint hum that felt powerful but calm.

“The pendant has enough mana for a single use,” Kartana said, her gaze sharp and analytical. She knew precisely how the artifact functioned but was curious about how it would interact with Avince’s unique ability. She nodded at him, her expression intent.

“Activate your ability,” she instructed. “Let’s see how it handles the strain.”

Avince took a steadying breath, focusing as he felt the familiar surge of energy that came with activating his ability. Kartana watched intently, and he caught a flicker of interest in her eyes.

“Good,” she said. “Now, simulate an opponent strong enough to kill you. I want to see how your soul and mana respond.”