Greenish Mana circulated through the air. Spiraling around like a hurricane with Alaster in its eye. Alice watched the Mana rampage through the training hall. She watched thin wisps of green leave the storm, and with each deep, calm breath, they entered Alaster.

Alice was fascinated with the spectacle before her. Her lessons with the numerous Tutors taught her that Mana was normally invisible. Only when it was condensed to extraordinary levels did it become visible to the naked eye. It was at that level that it became dangerous to touch.

Mana Levels were typically regarded in three levels. Ordinary, its natural state where it was invisible. Agitated, where it was forcibly condensed. In this state, it harmed those who touched it according to the type of Mana it consisted of. Finally, there was Violent. A state of Mana where it was condensed so much, that the type of Mana didn’t matter.

This state was believed to be the true state of Mana. In this state, it was pure white. Not in the golden white of Holy Magic, but pure white. It creates as it destroys. It didn’t attack the body so much as changed it.

Not all the changes were negative. Some were actually beneficial to the victim. Even going as far as increasing their Mana Pool or Recovery. But more often than not, the changes resulted in the victim’s death. Those who suffocated when their lungs changed into gills. Those whose throat closed up as they suddenly became allergic to their own hair.

Alice’s Tutors had even told her of a victim who had their entire Class changed or their School of Mana reversed.

Luckily for everyone, Pure Mana was rare, exceedingly difficult to create let alone maintain. There were only four known instances where it occurred naturally, and three of those were in dispute among interested researchers about their authenticity.

While having access to a larger amount of Mana helped, all one needed to create Agitated Mana was control. Agitated Mana was infamous for being very difficult to control. In return, Agitated Mana was much more potent, capable of more so much more than Ordinary Mana.

Alice had no idea what Alaster was doing to require so much Visible Mana. She fantasized about him creating a spell to wipe out the entire Tarian Army. Of creating a cyclone of Green Mana or resurrecting some ancient legendary hero.

She would have both been impressed and saddened that all he was doing was creating a completely new Minion. Summoners were rare because of the difficulty in creating new Minion Spells. It was incredibly difficult to do so, and usually only resulted in rudimentary Minions.

While Alaster looked like he was peacefully meditating, perhaps practicing his control over Mana, he was in fact constantly a step away from having his Soul ripped apart.

Creating Spells was always a risk, but most were not threatening unless the person didn’t quite understand their own Magic. But Minion Spells were naturally very intricate and complex. According to Belgroth, Minion Spells were for those who had already mastered Basic Mana Control.

Also, according to Belgroth, Alaster was nowhere near that level.

The System had allowed Humanity much easier access to Minions than would otherwise be possible. Alaster himself was only able to create new Minions because he had a special affinity for it, which the System identified and categorized as his Class, and Belgroth’s direct and close supervision.

There were a few things that even made it possible for Alaster, most important of which was the ambient souls available due to the Siege. The second was that Alaster wasn’t creating an entirely new Minion. He was simply using a Spell the System created as a basis.

The Dread Knight watched from behind Alaster. It cared not for the spectacle happening around it. It did not even care about the young girl spying on its Master. The only thing the Dread Knight cared about was what its Master was doing.

It was excited to have a sparring partner. Its bloodthirst was somewhat disappointed that the new Minion would not actually have blood to spill. But it was a sparring partner that it would not have to be careful with. Even if the Knight destroyed the new Minion, its Master could simply resummon it.

Despite its eagerness, its body remained motionless. Easily mistaken for a statue by the ignorant. Though only the unchallenged would be unable to feel the bloodlust emanating from that statue.

As Alice watched, the visible Mana slowly disappeared as it was inhaled by Alaster. Yet it didn’t simply vanish.

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Instead, it was slowly weaved into the Spell. Streams of Mana folded and weaved in-between each other. The pressure steadily growing, threating to blow, shattering the Spell and sending the recoil bounding through Alaster’s Mana Veins and Core.

Most Mages rarely created their own Spells, and of those that did, typically only adjusted their already existing Spells into new configurations. Like how Alaster created [Death Touch].

However, despite the risk, and the difficulty, Alaster was finally able to create his Spell.

Similar to when he had created the Dread Knight, Alaster could faintly feel an ethereal essence be absorbed into the Spell as he cast it for the first time. He was now able to identify that essence as Soul Fragments. Though he still knew pitiful little about them.

Alaster watched as his newest Minion phased into existence. He was not sure what he was expecting, but the creature that entered this reality surpassed his expectations.

Standing little more than a head shorter than Alaster, it was as tall as most Humans. It entire skeletal body was covered by pale white armor. It was light armor, designed to provide flexibility first and protection second, though it was by no means fragile. To further reinforce flexibility, the joints between the armor plates were simply cloth, not leather or chain.

Its face was completely covered by a plain faceless helm. Similar to Alaster’s first T Barbutes. Unlike the Dread Knight’s cruel appearance, this new Minion’s appearance was more normal. It looked just like a normal man in standard armor.

It held in its hands a large two-handed great sword, though Alaster had a feeling that the Minion was just as proficient with numerous weapons.

Alaster had created this Minion from the War Master Minion. Still a Minion branched off of the Undead Berserker, like the Dread Knight, but one that used technique over might.

[War Born

Fragments of those who have gone, merged to create a one born for war.

Max Minion: 1/1

Mana Cost: 500]

‘War Born. Interesting name.’ Alaster thought to himself.

‘Good job.’ Sedall complimented. He had never really delved into Minions due to how hard they were to create, even if one had the affinity to do so. He understood the struggle.

‘There were a few places that need work, but not bad for only your second attempt.’

‘You know, I’ve noticed that the Dread Knight, and now this War Born, don’t have levels. Why is that?’

‘Cause they won’t level.’ Belgroth stated, as if it was obvious.

‘No shit. I mean, why? What’s the reason?’

‘Because they do not grow stronger from simple use. They will only grow stronger as you do, and as they learn how to better use the strength they have available to them.’

‘That makes sense, I guess. What about getting more? Because normally, the other Minions will allow for more to be summoned as they level, but since these don’t have levels, how does that work? Because I doubt that it would only be limited to one for each.’

‘You will have to make them. Haven’t you been listening to my lessons?’ Belgroth seemed almost offended that Alaster had not understood that.

‘One by one?’ Alaster gasped. It had taken several hours just to make the War Born.

‘Yes. Though as you become better, it will only take a few minutes. But that will take plenty of practice.’

‘Is there a limit then?’

‘No, just time and resources. Right now, you have plenty of resources, but not much time.’

‘Resources?’

Belgroth sighed, ‘Souls of the dead. The area here is so bloated with them that they are taking longer than they normally would to dissipate.’

Alaster stood up and stretched his back, popping it several times with a deep sigh of relief, ‘How many souls would be needed for one of these Adept Minions?’

‘That depends entirely on the soul itself and how well it already matches the essence of the Minion. But I wouldn’t say more than a dozen.’

‘A dozen? Hmmm, not as much as I thought.’

Alaster turned his attention back to his War Born, or more specifically, the Dread Knight who was already approaching with malice.

He thought of stopping it but decided not to. He wanted to see how the War Born fought anyway. Though its current actions were interesting. The War Born, since it had first been summoned, had been looking around the training hall curiously, as Alaster would expect a child.

The Dread Knight did not like being completely ignored, and charged forward, raising its serrated blade over its head as its armor screeched against itself.

When the Knight was only a few feet away, the War Born finally reacted.

Swinging its Greatsword around itself to parry the Knight’s.

In the same movement, it threw a heavy punch with its off hand. Pushing the Dread Knight back.

The punch had done little against the Knight, though Alaster doubted the same would be the case for a living opponent.

The Dread Knight seemed to reconsider the War Born before it, but not its urge to fight it. The quick deflection and counter seemed to earn the Knight’s, if not respect, then effort.

The two immediately clashed again as Alaster watched with interest. The difference between the two was quite obvious.

The Dread Knight swung wildly, but powerfully, leaving wide openings. Yet that wasn’t accidental. The openings were traps, which the War Born quickly learned, not without taking damage.

The War Born on the other hand was very different. While the Dread Knight’s attacks were straight, the War Born’s were curvy. Its sword was constantly moving, and its body along with it. But unlike a novice, who was likely to be carried by the weight of their weapon, the War Born followed with it, flowed with it.

Movement caught Alaster’s attention. Looking away from the battle, Alaster spotted Alice also watching the fight from the other side of the training hall, close to the doors.

Without regard for the furious battle taking place, Alaster walked through the middle. His minions effortlessly adjusted their duel to flow around him.

Alice watched in stunned silence as swords with the power to cleave a man in two flew past Alaster with only centimeters between. And yet the man walked without worry.

“How’s it going Alice?” Alaster asked with a cheery grin and a wave.