During his time in the desert, Shaden had acquired a distaste for sand. Partly because of how it found its way into his shoes whenever he walked around, even in the oasis. But that had been the extent of it—a small annoyance. A few seconds of dusting would do the trick.
Then the first sandstorm had come when spring was coming to an end. A thick, orange fog had covered the encampment, and Shaden had followed the Jakhar Kishaks into one of their large tents while the sound of wind and whirling grains battered against the thick walls. With Shaden’s magic, it hadn’t been dark, and he had played board games with Keyga and Eshel while waiting for the storm to subside. When they grew tired, they’d taken a nap. It wasn’t a bad memory.
The problem was when he’d stepped foot outside. Sand had lined the trees, tents, fences—everything. Being part of the family, he’d decided to help, and within a few minutes, all of his clothes were filled with sand, his hair decorated with fine grains that refused to come out with brushing. The blistering sun hadn’t helped, and every drop of sweat or moisture that was produced worsened the situation, causing sand to cling onto everything. Even with the tightly-bound tent coverings, the sand had still found a way into everything. He’d hated it. It had taken a full week before he’d gotten the sand out of his belongings.
So when the second sandstorm came along, he’d tried something else. It hadn’t worked out as he’d wished (keeping the magic active for over six hours had been too much for him), but he doubted an avalanche would last that long.
“Move! Move!” Pillen roared. “Get to the sides and find something sturdy! We’ll find you if you get buried!”
He turned to Shaden. “Please, mark as many people as you can. I know you can survive this, so I’m counting on you to find the others after this.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about it,” Shaden replied, eyeing the incoming storm. It wasn’t the biggest he’d done, and the other soldiers weren’t spread that far across.
Before Pillen could comment, Shaden began to dash upwards, towards the center of the avalanche. Clenching a fist, he took in a deep breath and put his hands before himself. People were shouting at him, but he paid them no mind.
“Maybe today, they’ll acknowledge me,” he muttered.
Gestures were unnecessary, but they helped with the imagery. He made a rectangle with his fingers. A wall of power formed before him, large enough to cover him.
Shaden widened his arms, and the wall followed his gesture. An invisible forcefield spread across the landscape, stopping where his vision did. He felt a torrent of mana coursing through him, but such sensations weren’t unusual anymore.
The avalanche struck the forcefield with tremendous force, exploding into white powder and rising upwards, threatening to climb over the barrier. Shaden was glad he’d gone overboard with his mana; the avalanche was stronger than he’d expected and he’d felt his magic creak from the impact. Supplying more mana to the forcefield, he stretched it upwards, high enough so the snow wouldn’t reach it. Behind it, the snow shifted and churned, beginning to pile up and solidifying on the invisible barrier, quickly becoming chunks of ice from the pressure.
Behind him, he could feel the soldiers slowing. Their panicking feet had come to a stop. Were they staring in awe? He hoped they were, especially Nicar.
The sounds were terrifying. The snow he was used to was soft and powdery, but the avalanche sounded like dull stone boulders thunking into wet dirt. If he removed the barrier now, who knew what would happen. Perhaps it would be worse because now, the snow had coagulated into solid boulders.
Shaden gazed at his creation. A wall of white had formed across the mountain, inclining forward, threatening to fall at any moment. Keeping his arms spread apart, he looked back. Pillen had run to him, breathing heavily as he frowned at the sight before him.
“H-how in the—great spirits!”
He wiped his forehead, grinning from ear to ear. “Shaden! You—you incredible bastard!”
“Get everyone out of here,” Shaden yelled. “If I let go, it’s going to come falling back down again.”
“Right! Uh, don’t die!”
Shaden smiled as he watched Pillen sprint away, notifying his sister of the situation. From the man’s reaction, Shaden knew he’d done the right thing. A very impressive, amazing thing. The chores he’d done at the fortress hadn’t earned him much, but this—this would change their view of him.
He sighed, feeling good about himself. It only took a single feat to change everything. He’d finally received an opportunity, and he’d aced it. He hoped this would change everyone’s opinion of him.
After around ten minutes, he received a signal from Pillen, telling him that everyone had evacuated. He let go, and as he’d expected, the snow began to roll down again, the chunks breaking and groaning, but descending upon him nonetheless. He heard shouts from the sides.
Feeling strangely elated, he put his palms together and pointed towards the incoming wave of snow.
His mana shot forward like a long knife, changed into force by the power of his will. When he separated his hands, so did the area before him, causing everything to slide harmlessly by him, like a protagonist who had split an energy wave in two. Shaden felt giddy all over. This was what he had wanted. Not scouting about, memorizing irrelevant formations or commands, but using his power to its full potential.
He looked at his hands and looked at the sky. This was him. The real him. Unconstrained by limits, thriving in danger. Yet, nothing so far had been truly dangerous.
He finally had a solid argument to act on his own accord. Now, whatever he did, they’d allow it.
Shaden clenched his fists. He felt strangely powerful. The last time he’d felt like this was before he’d learned about all of this, back when he was at Danark, training with the sword with Mistilia. After that, he hadn’t felt much progress.
Circulating felt like a stream of cold air was blowing through his veins. There was no resistance, nothing to slow it down. Had he reached some kind of understanding? He wasn’t sure.
What he knew was that right now, nothing could stop him. He was confident—and reborn. The giant knot of uneasiness that existed within his chest had unraveled.
From the back of his mind, he vaguely recalled Instructor Reedock saying something about overconfidence and Mistillia making fun of him…but that was in the past.
He was absolutely amazing right now.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“I will no longer be under your command,” Shaden told Nicar.
They were standing where they wouldn’t be out in the open, behind some large rocks at the base of the mountain. When Nicar had called for a meeting, she had wanted Pillen to bring him along, and he had followed. He felt good at the moment because his comrades had showered him with praise and gratitude after his feat—even Hinz had muttered his thanks.
“You can’t be the one to decide that,” Nicar answered. “We are in enemy territory. To be outside of my command is to be outside of my responsibility.”
“I know,” Shaden said. “I am not saying that I will abandon my squadron. But after today, I know for certain that my presence here doesn’t amount to much when I’m following orders. So, let me watch from the sidelines and do as I see fit.”
She stared at him. “Have you learned nothing?” she said after a pause.
“I’ve learned enough. You know, I saved everyone from being buried alive.”
“We—would have managed without your help.”
“So, you don’t need me,” Shaden shrugged. “Then it wouldn’t matter if I disappear. Don’t worry; I’ll let the Commander know. I know I’m not included in the official soldier count either, so it won’t affect you in any way. Let me go, and we can each mind our own business.”
Nicar’s eyes seemed to bore into him. “I can’t let you wander alone when there are enemies around!”
“You’ve seen what I can do. Wasn’t that enough? Besides,” he shrugged. “I’m only saying that I won’t be under you. I’ll still be for you. I’m sick of following orders and being treated like luggage. I wasn’t meant for this.”
Nicar pursed her lips. She looked at Pillen. Her brother cracked his neck, then shrugged.
“With your power—fine,” she sighed. “But you are still my responsibility. You are free to roam, but if you die, it will create problems for all of us.”
“Of course,” Shaden smiled. “You won’t need to worry about that.”
He felt great. Learning how to be submissive to others was only good if he found himself under someone in the future, but as of now, he had no plans of doing so. Why would he have to be submissive to anyone? He could level a city, for goodness’ sake. He was the protagonist of this world. The holder of infinity, the one whose limits were only determined by his imagination.
At least, he felt like that now.
“I’ll see you around, then.”
While Nicar and Pillen’s eyes were on him, he faded from their sight, walking away as the two exchanged uncertain glances. Was it worry? Frustration? The Nieuts were hard to read besides their anger.
“Now,” he muttered, cracking his fingers, “time to go thank the person behind all of this.”
⤙ ◯ ⤚
At the top of the mountain, a beastman frowned, his eyes inspecting the destruction below. The rising fog of snow had made it difficult to make out the results of the avalanche, but now that it was subsiding, he’d expected to see humans scurrying about, trying their best to get their comrades out of the snow. He saw none, and it didn’t make sense that all of them were buried.
He knew something had gone amiss. His keen eyes had spotted out an unnatural halt during the avalanche, an invisible wall that persisted for a few minutes before giving away. And at the center of it, a strange gap that had formed, revealing a small person. A magician, the beastman guessed. That would be valuable information.
This was enough to portray their hostility. Now was the time to return and report.
He began to dash across the snow to get away from the spot as quickly as possible. He knew there were some individuals who could spot their kind before their noses could, ones who used strange magic. But none of their races could match their physique. He would be long gone before they recovered from the incident, deep inside of Anor.
His wife and children were away from all of this, safe in the capital, and he pitied the beastmen who would be caught between the conflict. But that was none of his business. His job was done, and he would regroup. That was the privilege given to the talented.
He descended the mountain, his ears and nose twitching cautiously. But he caught nothing but the smell of ice. Though, he doubted anyone would follow. He was far away now, and the humans were slow on their feet. Relentless, but too sluggish. The cold bothered them much more than it did his kind.
Along the way, he stopped to lean against some rocks to catch his breath. The winter air was cold enough to make his lungs ache after a long run. He looked into the sky. It was blue and beautiful, but he prayed for snow. That way, the humans wouldn’t be able to continue to the newly built villages at the border, but the rulers of the country thought otherwise.
Life was for the strong. If one couldn’t survive, it was because of their lack of strength. But he could pity those who would perish.
He sighed.
“Finally! Gosh, you’re fast. I thought I’d never reach you.”
The beastman leapt up to his feet, baring his claws and teeth. Sniffing, he immediately caught onto the distinct smell of human clothing. Why hadn’t he noticed it earlier?
The source of the smell was before him—a boy with dark hair, walking towards him. How he was here, he didn’t know.
“You’ve come to die,” he growled loudly. His unease grew, and he bristled himself for battle.
How was the boy speaking his language? Those types lived in the capital, not out here near the border.
“Aggressive, aren’t we? But I understand. You were trying to bury us alive, after all. Now, what do I say next—ah. If you came to kill, you should be prepared to die—was it?”
It would be an easy kill. Leaping forward with a snarl, the beastman clawed at the strange boy who had appeared before he could react. His eyes widened when his arm was caught mid-air, forcefully pulled to the side as his body was flung towards the ground. Twisting his body, he landed on his feet while attempting to yank his arm away from the boy—
Crack.
He howled as pain flooded his arm. Baffled, he kicked the boy, who leapt back to avoid the blow.
The boy’s power didn’t match his physique. That stood for danger.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Yikes, those are some fast reactions,” the boy muttered. “But today is your unlucky day. You’ll have to come with me.”
The beastman snarled, twisting his arm into place. He’d have to tie it down before the damage became irreversible. Now was the time to escape.
With all of his might, he leapt.
Something grabbed his leg, and he fell face-down on the snow. Looking back, he noticed that the boy was nowhere near to grab him.
“I think I understand now,” the boy muttered. “Maybe this is what they call enlightenment. Mana is a wonderful thing, don’t you think?”
The beastman was about to jump back up when a wave of pressure washed over him. He struggled, mustering his energy to escape. He knew this sensation. The warlords had exerted such force.
“Still conscious? You’re pretty resilient.”
When his grip on the flow of mana through his body loosened, so did his consciousness.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“So they do faint if too much mana is applied,” Shaden noted, nudging the limp body with his foot.
Every living creature had mana inside of their bodies. It was the reason why people couldn’t simply use magic to summon water or fire inside of a person because their mana would interfere with the spell’s mana. According to the books he’d read, it was life force, the element that allowed creatures to live. Long story short, by forcing his mana into another person with the sheer amount he had, he could knock them out.
At least in theory. When he’d used it on animals, they’d always wake up a few seconds later.
And so did the beastman, whose eyes snapped open six seconds later. Shaden quickly drowned him in his mana, and he fainted again.
“This isn’t going to work,” he muttered. So instead, he wrapped his mana-hands around the beastman, enclosing him in an invisible prison. When the beastman opened his eyes, he struggled violently, shaking his feet, but Shaden’s magic didn’t budge.
“It’s futile,” Shaden stated, concentrating to make out where Nicar was. “You can’t escape now.”
The beastman stopped resisting and began to inspect the invisible restraints around him instead. Shaden could sense that his mana had begun to move again in his body.
“Well, try your best,” he sighed.
He began to make his way back to where everyone was, the beastman floating beside him. Once in a while, he would try to force himself out.
“If you think that I’m going to tire, give up,” Shaden said. “You picked the wrong group to mess with.”
“What are you?” the beastman growled. “A boy like you with power, grouping together with slaves.”
“A boy in training,” Shaden replied.
The beastman continued to struggle. But as if knowing his powerlessness, his movements slowed, and during the rest of the way, was still with his eyes closed. Shaden didn’t pay much attention to the man.
A few blasting rods were about to be pointed towards him when he neared the camp, but Nicar had sensed him, ordering the men to stand down. She’d noticed who he was carrying, and she met him with a hint of surprise in her eyes, though the rest of her appeared somewhat blank. He’d hoped for a better reaction.
“I got the culprit,” Shaden said, forcing the beastman to kneel beside him. “He’s yours now.”
Nicar looked at him, then nodded. He didn’t know why she looked unsure. The soldiers around them were exchanging whispers. Whispers of wonder. That was what he had wanted.
“Bind him,” she commanded, and two men came out to tie the beastman with ropes. Shaden let go to make room for the men, who cautiously approached the beastman, skillfully pushing him down within moments, yanking his arms behind his back. The beastman kept his eyes on Shaden the whole time.
“Where did you find him?” Nicar questioned.
“I tracked him down with, you know,” Shaden answered. “He was the only beastman nearby who was running away.”
“Cut his tendons,” Nicar said hastily.
“But Captain, sir. Traditions—”
“If he was the only one around, he was the one who caused the avalanche.”
Her lieutenant seemed to understand and took out a knife. Two soldiers pressed the beastman down while the lieutenant approached, and Shaden could feel mana swirling through most of the soldiers around him, including Nicar. There was no movement from the beastman.
Shaden felt his back grow cold. For a second, he found himself unable to move.
“Back!!” the lieutenant shouted, and the soldiers holding the beastman jumped away just as the beastman ripped through the ropes tying him. Shaden shivered. The beastman’s eyes were locked on him, and he lunged.
Shaden breathed out, and his veins filled with power. His body began to move again, and he managed to raise his arms right as the beastman’s hands reached his body.
The world spun, and Shaden found himself flying through the air, his arm throbbing. He’d forgotten to anchor himself. Something blasted twice, and he crashed into the side of the mountain, grunting as stars filled his vision, quickly clearing as he blinked. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as he landed on the floor, but it wasn’t anything circulating couldn’t fix, even more so now that he’d been upgraded.
What was that?
His body had frozen momentarily. It was a sensation he’d felt long ago, though it paled in comparison. From the Librarian of the Great Library—Raash.
Fear.
Circulating had nullified it, and he had a vague idea of what it was. It was a pressure he’d tried to achieve but had only succeeded in thickening the air with mana to cause things to faint.
Killing intent. The beastman had used something like it. Shaden grinned. So, it did exist in this world. Lytha had never taught him, and the thought had never occurred to him back then. But if he knew how to use it, it would be so, so useful in the future.
Surprisingly, it was quiet. He’d expected to hear fighting in the camp or see the beastman bounding away. It was eerily quiet.
“Shaden!”
Nicar was running towards him, her aides following behind. Shaden cracked his neck and stood up.
“Don’t move, Shaden! Something could be broken!” Nicar yelled. For the first time since he’d arrived, she looked worried.
“I’m fine,” Shaden said, waving his arms.
Nicar reached him—then she began to strip him. He failed to resist as she skillfully slid his coat down and unbuttoned his shirt.
“Why aren’t you wearing your inner fleece!” she fussed, inspecting his arms and body.
Pillen hadn’t told her about the punishment yet. “It’s not that cold,” Shaden replied. “I’m really fine.”
“Hah. You—do you feel anything strange inside? Are you dizzy? The shock would have numbed the pain. You have to be sure.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m surprised you’re breathing properly.”
Satisfied, Nicar let out a long sigh.
“I can’t believe it. Do you know how fast you were tossed?”
“Not really.”
“I’m glad you’re not a bloody splat,” she said, pulling her hands through her hair. “Are you aware that you’re reckless?”
“Am I?”
Nicar made a disapproving expression.
“It was my mistake to worry about you,” she muttered.
She left, and Shaden followed, not sure what to make of that. He glanced back to see if he’d dropped anything.
Where he had struck the mountain, a small crater had formed. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at his body. Like before, he was fine. He didn’t ache or hurt.
Had his circulation reached a new level? He had thickened the mana within his body reflexively.
What was certain was that he’d gone a step further towards invincibility. He smiled. Things like this made it seem like he was dreaming.
When they returned, the beastman was face down on the floor, snarling violently. Only then did Shaden notice the blood pooling beneath his legs, two dark holes at the back of where the knees were. The bullet wounds were dreadfully accurate.
“What will you do with him?” Shaden asked.
Nicar put a hand to her chin. After a moment of thought, she turned to him.
“I would like to see how good your aim is. If you could heal him…”
She paused. Shaden took the hint.
Pointing a finger at the beastman, he let his magic flow into the man, and the outflow of blood stopped, replaced with solid flesh. The beastman’s snarls suddenly stopped, and he looked at his legs.
“You—healed me?” he demanded.
“Yeah,” Shaden said.
Nicar’s eyebrows twitched. “You can understand him?”
“Uh, a little,” Shaden answered. He hadn’t really told them about his abilities.
Without missing a single beat, the beastman began to sprint away without uttering a single word of thanks. He was quick, and every leap carried him far across the landscape. Maybe he had healed the beastman too much.
“Give me a blasting rod,” Shaden asked. Nicar passed hers over to him, and he was surprised it was heavier than the others. It looked custom-made, and the metal on it was slightly thicker. He loaded it with a bullet.
Steadily, he raised the weapon and aimed it towards the beastman who’d now become the size of his thumb. It was easy to find the connection, and with enough mana, every bullet would become a homing missile.
He fired. Right after, the beastman staggered, falling forward. It didn’t take long for him to get back up and limp away. Even on one working leg, he was quick.
Shaden loaded another bullet. He could feel the soldiers’ eyes—Nicar’s eyes on him. Their expectant gazes, their impressed mouths that were open.
The bullet whizzed through the air, and the beastman fell to the ground for good, unable to run anymore. And yet, he was still crawling away with his arms.
“Retrieve the animal,” Nicar said, and three men began to run to the fallen figure. Shaden handed the weapon back to Nicar.
“So?” Shaden asked.
“Passable,” Nicar said. “I was afraid you didn’t shoot before because you couldn’t aim.”
Passable? Once she saw that he had shot the beastman exactly where he’d been shot before, she’d think otherwise.
“Now what?” Shaden asked.
“We are awaiting the Commander’s next orders,” Nicar told him. “Go regroup with Pillen.”
“Right. Uh, what about the beastman?”
“We’ll take care of him,” Nicar said.
So he returned to Pillen, who was nearby. After the avalanche, they’d set camp, and all the different squadrons were close to each other now, all within vision if seen from a higher place. The effects of his advancement in understanding mana flow hadn’t worn off yet, so he took the liberty of showing off, creating a small hot spring for his squadron. It was just hot water, but it was the best the soldiers had gotten the past few weeks.
“We can’t use that,” Pillen said. “There might be enemies around.”
“None,” Shaden stated, enjoying the bath. “I am keeping an eye on everything.”
“You’re dangerously relaxed.”
“Is there a reason not to be? Trust me, there isn’t anyone nearby.”
“Come on, Leader. You’ve seen what he can do,” Gel said. “A little dip seems fine.”
“You want to get wet out here.”
“Water seems warm. Just a ten-minute dip? We can take turns. The other squadrons won’t notice.”
Not only Gel, but Enov seemed interested in taking a bath. Pillen scratched his head, looked around at his subordinates, and huffed out a short breath.
“Fine,” he said. “Two at a time. Ten minutes each.”
It made Shaden happy when he saw that the others were enjoying the bath so much. It was also satisfying to see Hinz fail to resist the urge to bathe and enter—the young man was unable to meet his eyes.
“Thanks,” he mumbled when he got out. “Don’t overuse your mana.”
“I have plenty left,” Shaden said, and Hinz nodded. That gesture alone made him smile ear to ear. The man had acknowledged him.
“Well…this is nice,” Pillen commented, leaning back on the earthen seat Shaden had made in the water. “What kind of magic is this?”
“Temperature magic.”
“Never heard of it. Hah, in the end, everything went your way.”
Pillen shook his head. “I always knew you were powerful. But you break my imagination every time.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“Maybe. What are you planning to do?”
“In the future?”
Shaden rubbed his neck. “I’ll have to learn the other families’ abilities. Then…maybe I’ll go to school.”
“School?”
“Yeah. A magic school.”
“They have schools for mages?”
“Yeah? Where else would people learn magic?”
“I suppose.”
Pillen buried his face in the water, bubbles coming out from below. Shaden hadn’t expected to see that.
“How do people learn magic here?” Shaden asked.
“You need to find a master who will teach you the spell you want,” Pillen said, raising his head. “The tutoring fee is expensive.”
“I thought there were spell books.”
“I honestly don’t know, Shaden. We don’t get many books here,” he said, yawning. “Before I came here, I only trained to shoot and fight. My father was always busy; he would only visit once every few months to make sure I was learning properly. Magic? That’s what the wealthy learn, people who have too much spare time in their hands.”
“You can create fire.”
“Water, a little healing, warmth—those are things you pick up along the way. The soldiers teach each other the little things they know. Nothing fancy. It’s never too good to grow reliant on magic around here. You need all the energy you have to keep yourself alive.”
“It feels fine. Everyone looked okay.”
“Do they? Maybe for you, it might seem that way. They’re all stubborn and hardy, these soldiers. Weakness is never a good thing in these parts. It drags down the group. So I appreciate the bath. That was kind of you.”
Shaden had just wanted to show off. He scratched his cheek.
“Glad you like it,” he said.
A lot had happened today. And he was glad with how it had turned out. He’d finally been able to properly express himself and was getting the reactions he wanted. He deserved this; this was what this world was meant for: having a fun time.
He took a stroll around the camp after dinner. Now that he was free to do whatever, it felt as if a large weight had been lifted off his chest. But there wasn’t much to see except for the people, and the lack of torches made the whole environment depressing and dark. And even the people were inside of their tents, conserving their energy.
Shaden wondered how long they would stay out there. Their rations were running low, maybe lasting them a few more days. Even for the return trip, they’d barely have enough. And they weren’t going back yet.
He spotted the beastman along the way and grimaced. His feet had been mangled, turning into a sickly shade of deep blue where the red ceased to be. The same applied to his hands. He lay leaning against a small boulder, face towards the sky, looking as if he were dead.
“Are…you okay?” Shaden asked.
The man’s eyelids flew open. “Heal me again. You speak my tongue. Surely you would show pity.”
“I recall that you flung me into a wall.”
“You were the biggest threat,” the beastman said. “I failed to see the woman. I’d never seen anyone shoot as she did.”
“If you tell me something, I might let you go,” Shaden said. “What you used before—that was killing intent, right?”
“Killing…intent. That’s one way to phrase it,” the beastman said.
“I’d like you to teach me,” Shaden asked.
The beastman scowled. “How can you teach someone an emotion? You can already project your mana onto others. Now, give it the thought to kill.”
“How do I do that?”
“Go kill enough people and it will dawn on you,” the beastman muttered. “Now, heal me.”
“Tomorrow, after everyone is awake,” Shaden stated. “Who knows what you will do in the dark?”
“I won’t forget your kindness,” the man smiled. Then he closed his eyes once more. He was far from dying, judging by the strength of his mana.
Shaden returned to his tent and went to sleep, feeling satisfied.
The next morning, Pillen let the squadron know that they would leave by noon. The rush from the day before had subsided in Shaden, and he felt less energetic than before, but he was glad he’d done the right things in the heat of the moment.
They waited for Pillen to return from the regular meeting. Shaden felt too lazy to follow, and he remained with the soldiers, exchanging casual conversations. He hadn’t talked with them much before.
Only when Pillen returned did Shaden remember his promise to the beastman. Before they left, Shaden quickly made his way to where the beastman was—but the man was missing from his spot.
“Him? Must be over there.”
Following a soldier’s finger, he went out of the camp. It was strange because he didn’t sense anything. Just before he was about to turn away, his eyes fell on a familiar shape, vaguely visible on the grey rocks.
It was the body of the beastman, frozen and hard. His throat had been slit neatly. He lay on the ground, dead as a doornail.
Shaden scratched his cheek.
“Oh…well.”
It was a shame the man had died.