In the dimly lit room of a previous sanctuary, where Leviathan and others had once resided, a figure was diligently sharpening a sword.

Revan, alone in this room that belonged to him, was focused on honing his sword to the sharpest edge possible.

After a significant amount of time spent sharpening, he seemed satisfied and examined the gleaming blade in the lantern's faint light.

Setting the sword aside, he moved towards a desk and picked up the lantern, transferring it to another location.

Seated before the table, he retrieved some papers that appeared to contain methods of aura manipulation.

"To use up one's aura, you must first harden your body to the utmost level possible," Revan murmured to himself as he read the notes. "Then, you must subject yourself to harsh conditions to ignite the fire within your heart."

"These conditions could include traversing extremely hot magma or enduring the frigid embrace of frozen ice, among others. If, even after these treatments, a person fails to kindle the fire in their heart, there's only one option left—a method that relies on intense emotions dwelling within themselves."

He paused, pondering the text. "This method is difficult and not guaranteed to work like the others. However, if successful, the fire ignited by this means is more powerful than those from other methods."

Revan continued reading. "There is also another method—being personally blessed by an almighty being and receiving their divine favor.

" The extent of power one gains after such a blessing remains a mystery. There are only a few individuals known to have received such blessings, and even if they exist, they do not reveal the full extent of their abilities."

"After using one of these methods to ignite the fire within, as soon as the fire is lit, you start sensing the presence of aura not from external sources but from within."

"Initially, this aura presence is so small that you can hardly challenge a rabbit with it. However, the more you focus on and cultivate your aura, the more its power grows within your body."

"The limits of aura growth depend on the individual, and once you reach your limit, there's no hope of reaching a higher realm."

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With a sudden "thump," Revan closed the book and tossed it aside.

"Another useless one," he muttered while grabbing a large bag from the closet.

Revan scattered the contents of the bag onto the table, revealing an assortment of books and various magical tools.

Among the items, he found books similar to the ones he had read before, along with some practical magical tools used for tasks like starting a campfire or warming up bed sheets.

Setting aside these tools, he began reading the books one by one.

Just like previous attempts, they failed to provide any valuable information, and he cast them aside as well. Frustration welled up within him as he rested his hand on his head and leaned over the table.

"If only I could gain favor from one of the almighty beings," he muttered, voicing a longing that had plagued him for some time.

It had been years since Revan reached the limit of his aura strengthening, and no matter how much effort and dedication he put into cultivating his aura, he found himself unable to break through that barrier.

This realization had led him on a three-year-long search for a method to overcome his limitations, but all his efforts had proved futile.

The elusive solution remained out of reach, leaving him in a state of perpetual frustration.

Revan's frustration boiled over, and he muttered a curse under his breath. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but recall a vivid memory from the past.

In this memory, he envisioned the radiant knight Ronald, mounted on a majestic and powerful horse that exuded a palpable aura of strength. Revan himself appeared much smaller and humbler, clad in worn-out commoner clothes.

He remembered how Ronald had extended his hand towards him, saying something that was now a blur in his memory. What remained vivid was the image of himself eagerly accepting Ronald's offer, leaping towards the knight with hope and determination.

The recollection stirred deep emotions within Revan. He had yearned for power, a chance to be useful, to escape his limitations.

This desire for strength was rooted in a painful memory of a near-fatal encounter with the leader of the Ascendant Cult, an encounter from which he had been saved only by the timely arrival of Ronald.

Had it not been for the knight's intervention, Revan knew he would have perished. These memories weighed heavily on his heart, plunging him into a profound sense of sadness.

Tears welled up in Raven's eyes as he contemplated his own powerlessness. He was about to drift off to sleep at the table when a sudden thought jolted him awake.

"The Ascend Theocracy," he muttered softly.

"If things unfold as I anticipate, we may find ourselves in a war with them." His eyes brightened with newfound determination.

"If I can prove myself, earn merits, perhaps the Almighty Beings will grant me their favor."

A glimmer of hope flickered in Raven's heart as he imagined a future where he could make a difference.

Just as he began to envision this potential path, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it?" Raven inquired calmly.

"I apologize, sir, for interrupting you at this late hour. Elder Wendor has instructed everyone to gather in the main hall. Apparently, there's an important message from the main sanctuary," the reply came from outside the door, indicating that a knight had knocked.

"I'll be there shortly. You can go now," Raven said as he rose from his chair and headed towards where his armor was kept.