The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal filled the forge, the familiar sound reverberating off the stone walls. Caelum stood in front of the blazing forge, sweat beading on his brow as he lifted the hammer and brought it down in a precise arc onto the glowing piece of steel before him. The mana flowing through his body pulsed with every strike, synchronizing with the hammer’s impact. Each time the steel met the anvil, it was as if the mana guided the hammer, enhancing his strength, his precision, his efficiency.
His ocular magic had changed everything. What once had been instinct, hours of practice, and meticulous study, was now intuitive. He could see where the metal was weakest, where the grain needed alignment, where to strike to draw the impurities out. It was as though his eyes were both appraising the metal and guiding him, revealing details that other smiths would have to guess at or spend years learning to detect.
Professor Malven’s voice, gruff but calm, echoed through the forge, calling out instructions to other students. Malven had never been one to hover over Caelum, which Caelum appreciated. He could feel the professor’s gaze occasionally shift in his direction, but Malven never interrupted him. As long as Caelum worked diligently, Malven allowed him the freedom to experiment at his own pace.
Caelum raised the hammer again, reinforcing his muscles with mana as he swung. The effortlessness with which he could move the heavy hammer was surprising even to him. What would have normally required significant physical exertion now felt light, each strike imbued with mana flowing from his Mana Vessel. The raw power surged through his veins, strengthening his body without exhausting him. He felt invigorated, rather than fatigued, the mana continuously replenishing him.
The steel on the anvil had been shaped into the form of a short sword—his second of the day. As he quenched the glowing blade in the nearby trough, steam hissed into the air, and he observed the weapon with a discerning eye. His ocular magic kicked in instinctively, scanning the weapon’s structure as if it were breaking down its composition before his very eyes. The flow of mana within the sword felt balanced, the weight perfectly distributed. He hadn’t just forged a weapon; he had created something Flawless.
He turned the short sword in his hands, watching the light reflect off the perfectly forged blade. It gleamed under the soft glow of the forge’s flames, the edges sharp enough to cut through air with ease. The subtle vibrations of mana within the steel told him it was durable, long-lasting, a weapon of high quality that could withstand rigorous use. He hadn’t needed a second opinion; his eyes had appraised the sword as easily as they had forged it.
Without pausing, he laid another ingot on the anvil. This time, he reached for something larger. The feeling of power coursing through him made him eager to push his limits. He set to work forging a long sword, his mind already cataloging the sequence of steps, the hammer strikes, and the precise applications of mana needed to mold the blade.
As the hours passed, Caelum lost himself in the rhythm of the forge. He made two long swords, then shifted to great swords—larger, heavier weapons that would have taken twice the effort without his enhanced strength. But with his reinforced muscles, his movements were fluid, efficient. Next came two Dragon Slayer Swords, massive two-handed blades with sweeping arcs. The size and weight of the Dragon Slayers demanded respect, but the mana flowing through Caelum’s body allowed him to handle the unwieldy weapons as though they were simple tools.
He paused only briefly between weapons, wiping the sweat from his brow before reaching for more ore, the forge’s heat a constant companion. Two axes followed, then two massive battle axes, their heavy blades hewn from the same metal. His mind pulled from his archival knowledge, offering designs and weapon styles that seemed to surface unbidden as he worked. He moved on to crafting daggers—short, lethal weapons that required more precision than brute force. But with his ocular power, even the smallest imperfections were visible, allowing him to adjust the blade mid-forging with ease.
Hours had passed, the sun already high in the sky by the time Caelum took a breath and stepped back to admire his work. The array of weapons lay spread across the stone table beside him, each one a product of his newfound abilities, each one flawless. His eyes scanned over the various blades, noticing the smooth lines, the balanced weight, the harmony between form and function.
Professor Malven walked by, glancing at the weapons but offering no comment. His presence was one of quiet approval, a reminder that, so long as Caelum was working and following the rules of the forge, he had free reign to create. Caelum respected the silence, understanding that Malven’s lack of interference was its own form of praise.
He only stopped when he realized that he had worked through the morning, the forge’s fires blazing bright as his muscles hummed with the mana coursing through them. It wasn’t until his stomach growled that he remembered he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Letting out a slow breath, Caelum wiped the soot from his hands and surveyed his pile of ore. Depleted. He had used up nearly everything. He smiled to himself, satisfied. There would be more ore soon enough, but for now, it was time to eat.
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The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal filled the forge, the familiar sound reverberating off the stone walls. Caelum stood in front of the blazing forge, sweat beading on his brow as he lifted the hammer and brought it down in a precise arc onto the glowing piece of steel before him. The mana flowing through his body pulsed with every strike, synchronizing with the hammer’s impact. Each time the steel met the anvil, it was as if the mana guided the hammer, enhancing his strength, his precision, his efficiency.
His ocular magic had changed everything. What once had been instinct, hours of practice, and meticulous study, was now intuitive. He could see where the metal was weakest, where the grain needed alignment, where to strike to draw the impurities out. It was as though his eyes were both appraising the metal and guiding him, revealing details that other smiths would have to guess at or spend years learning to detect.
Professor Malven’s voice, gruff but calm, echoed through the forge, calling out instructions to other students. Malven had never been one to hover over Caelum, which Caelum appreciated. He could feel the professor’s gaze occasionally shift in his direction, but Malven never interrupted him. As long as Caelum worked diligently, Malven allowed him the freedom to experiment at his own pace.
Caelum raised the hammer again, reinforcing his muscles with mana as he swung. The effortlessness with which he could move the heavy hammer was surprising even to him. What would have normally required significant physical exertion now felt light, each strike imbued with mana flowing from his Mana Vessel. The raw power surged through his veins, strengthening his body without exhausting him. He felt invigorated, rather than fatigued, the mana continuously replenishing him.
The steel on the anvil had been shaped into the form of a short sword—his second of the day. As he quenched the glowing blade in the nearby trough, steam hissed into the air, and he observed the weapon with a discerning eye. His ocular magic kicked in instinctively, scanning the weapon’s structure as if it were breaking down its composition before his very eyes. The flow of mana within the sword felt balanced, the weight perfectly distributed. He hadn’t just forged a weapon; he had created something Flawless.
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He turned the short sword in his hands, watching the light reflect off the perfectly forged blade. It gleamed under the soft glow of the forge’s flames, the edges sharp enough to cut through air with ease. The subtle vibrations of mana within the steel told him it was durable, long-lasting, a weapon of high quality that could withstand rigorous use. He hadn’t needed a second opinion; his eyes had appraised the sword as easily as they had forged it.
Without pausing, he laid another ingot on the anvil. This time, he reached for something larger. The feeling of power coursing through him made him eager to push his limits. He set to work forging a long sword, his mind already cataloging the sequence of steps, the hammer strikes, and the precise applications of mana needed to mold the blade.
As the hours passed, Caelum lost himself in the rhythm of the forge. He made two long swords, then shifted to great swords—larger, heavier weapons that would have taken twice the effort without his enhanced strength. But with his reinforced muscles, his movements were fluid, efficient. Next came two Dragon Slayer Swords, massive two-handed blades with sweeping arcs. The size and weight of the Dragon Slayers demanded respect, but the mana flowing through Caelum’s body allowed him to handle the unwieldy weapons as though they were simple tools.
He paused only briefly between weapons, wiping the sweat from his brow before reaching for more ore, the forge’s heat a constant companion. Two axes followed, then two massive battle axes, their heavy blades hewn from the same metal. His mind pulled from his archival knowledge, offering designs and weapon styles that seemed to surface unbidden as he worked. He moved on to crafting daggers—short, lethal weapons that required more precision than brute force. But with his ocular power, even the smallest imperfections were visible, allowing him to adjust the blade mid-forging with ease.
Hours had passed, the sun already high in the sky by the time Caelum took a breath and stepped back to admire his work. The array of weapons lay spread across the stone table beside him, each one a product of his newfound abilities, each one flawless. His eyes scanned over the various blades, noticing the smooth lines, the balanced weight, the harmony between form and function.
Professor Malven walked by, glancing at the weapons but offering no comment. His presence was one of quiet approval, a reminder that, so long as Caelum was working and following the rules of the forge, he had free reign to create. Caelum respected the silence, understanding that Malven’s lack of interference was its own form of praise.
He only stopped when he realized that he had worked through the morning, the forge’s fires blazing bright as his muscles hummed with the mana coursing through them. It wasn’t until his stomach growled that he remembered he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Letting out a slow breath, Caelum wiped the soot from his hands and surveyed his pile of ore. Depleted. He had used up nearly everything. He smiled to himself, satisfied. There would be more ore soon enough, but for now, it was time to eat.
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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light across the academy grounds as Caelum and Seraphine walked back to his suite after dinner. The sounds of students winding down from their day drifted in the air, but Caelum’s mind was focused on the conversation he and Seraphine were having.
“More students asked to join the tutoring sessions tonight,” Seraphine said, her voice carrying a tone of light amusement. “It’s getting hard to keep the group small, Caelum. We might have to start turning people away.”
Caelum smirked, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize I’d become so popular. The tutoring sessions were meant to help a few students catch up, not turn into a full class.”
Seraphine laughed, her eyes gleaming in the fading light. “Well, you did it to yourself. Between your practical skills and your magical knowledge, people see you as a mentor now. It’s no surprise they want to learn from you.”
Caelum glanced over at her, feeling the weight of her words. There was a time when he would have balked at the idea of being seen as a mentor. He had never sought that kind of attention, preferring to work quietly, unnoticed by most. But things were different now. His power, his knowledge—everything was shifting. And while Seraphine’s admiration was clear, there was always an undercurrent of something else in her gaze. Curiosity, perhaps. Or maybe a growing respect that was beginning to border on something more.
They continued their walk in comfortable silence until they reached the entrance to Caelum’s suite. Seraphine pushed the door open, stepping inside first. She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as her mouth dropped open in shock.
“What… what happened here?” she breathed, turning to Caelum as if searching for an explanation.
Caelum couldn’t help but grin at her reaction. The room, now significantly larger and reconfigured into distinct sections, was not what Seraphine had been expecting. Where once there had been a single space, there was now a study area, a bedroom, and a common room, each separated yet flowing together seamlessly.
“Do you like it?” Caelum asked, stepping in behind her, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.
Seraphine blinked, still taking in the expanded space. “I—this is amazing. But how? You didn’t… build this overnight. What did you do?”
Caelum chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was experimenting with the room’s array earlier. I copied the spatial enchantment from my storage ring and applied it to one of the array’s expansion nodes. The result was… well, this.”
Seraphine slowly walked further into the room, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You used a spatial enchantment on an array designed for things like noise suppression or defensive shields?” She turned to face him, her expression a mix of awe and incredulity. “How did you even know that would work without collapsing the array? Or worse, destroying the building?”
Caelum shrugged, trying to keep his tone casual, though he knew the risk had been real. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just had a sense of how to invert the compression from the ring’s pocket dimension and apply it here. It felt like the right thing to do, so I made a few adjustments.”
Seraphine stared at him, her eyes narrowing as she processed his explanation. It was clear she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she trusted him enough to let the matter rest. “That’s… impressive,” she finally said, her voice soft with a hint of awe. “But also a little reckless, Caelum. What if it had gone wrong?”
“I made sure it wouldn’t,” Caelum replied, though he knew better than to explain the full truth. He had no intention of revealing his ocular magic, his archival abilities, or his ability to absorb knowledge—at least not yet. Seraphine trusted him, but revealing every secret he held wasn’t wise. He knew that trust could be fragile, and though he cared deeply for Seraphine, there was always the possibility that circumstances might change. Others, like Elara, came to mind—people who could manipulate or leverage those secrets against him.
Seraphine walked over to the table in the newly expanded common room, still absorbing the change. “You’re something else, Caelum,” she said quietly, her admiration clear. “I’ve never seen anyone do magic the way you do. You make it seem so… effortless.”
Caelum moved to join her, sitting down across from her at the table. “It’s not effortless,” he said, though he knew his abilities had progressed far faster than most students. “But I’ve had good teachers, and a lot of practice. And sometimes, I just follow my instincts.”
Seraphine tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Instincts, huh? You really are full of surprises.”
The door creaked open as the first few students for the tutoring session began to arrive, interrupting the quiet moment between them. Seraphine stood and moved toward the door to greet them, though her expression still held traces of curiosity and awe at the changes to Caelum’s room.
Caelum leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the newly expanded space. It was strange—only a few days ago, this room had been a simple suite, unremarkable except for the privacy it offered. But now, it felt like something else. A workshop. A place where magic, knowledge, and power could converge, where he could refine his skills without limits.
As the students filed in, the atmosphere shifted to something more familiar. The tutoring session would soon begin, and Caelum pushed thoughts of expansion nodes, spatial enchantments, and hidden abilities to the back of his mind. For now, it was time to teach, to help those who looked to him for guidance. But deep down, he knew—everything had changed, and the path ahead was only growing more intricate.