It seemed like there was only one option available for Mana Manipulation’s advancement: Advanced Mana Manipulation. Practical, precise, but… not exactly mind-blowing. Then again, I didn’t need it to be flashy as long as it got the job done.

As I stood in the clearing, the difference was immediate the moment I tapped into it. I could practically visualize my core as I drew on it. Mana felt almost tangible now, something I could trace and hold with my mind. The energy perked up the moment I touched it, flowing eagerly from my crystalline core near my heart into my veins, automatically turning into lightning mana through my affinity.

Of course, I could stop it, push out pure, affinity-less mana if I really wanted to, but I’d only been training with lightning mana. It behaved wildly compared to neutral mana, which meant even my training process was different. Trying to teach myself the feel of pure mana could wait; right now, all that mattered was getting to know lightning mana like the back of my own claws.

With renewed focus, I guided the lightning mana through my body, feeling the currents as they converged into my claws. The level of precision I had now was shocking—pun absolutely intended. The threads of magic streaming out of my claws were so thin they could barely be seen, finer than anything I’d witnessed even from Academy instructors.

A satisfied grin spread across my face. This was it—the combined result of my Mana Conduit Vasculature upgrade and Advanced Mana Manipulation. I was finally ready to witness my first spell.

Lotte had only given me three runes, and I studied each one with anticipation.

Two of them were Lightning runes: Charge and Discharge.

Charge was a zigzag line, like a stylized lightning bolt with soft, rounded edges. Based on what I could gather (plus a subtle hint from Lotte), it represented the buildup of energy.

Discharge was a circle with an arrow breaking out from its center. The circle held the energy, while the arrow symbolized its release, directed and intentional.

Finally, the third rune was Arc—a simple crescent shape that seemed to represent control over the energy’s direction.

And then there was one rune Lotte hadn’t even bothered to mention—the Oblivion rune. A simple circle bisected by a single line. Naturally, I wasn’t foolish enough to try spellcasting experiments without it. Its purpose was to halt mana flow and safely dissipate energy if the matrix became unstable—an essential safeguard given all the madness I was about to attempt to get this matrix operational.

I had at least some familiarity with a few runes, thanks to Jord's... umm, “questionably legal” tomes. Arc and Oblivion I’d seen before, but Charge and Discharge were mysteries. Still, Lotte had given me enough to piece things together. Now I needed to determine precisely where to place each rune.

There were two main types of spell matrices I knew of: circular ones for continuous spells and linear ones for single-use. Given that I was about to launch a projectile (that might or might not even work), I opted for a linear matrix. Plus, circular matrices required additional runes, and I doubted Lotte had fully explained those to me.

And so began the assembly. I used mana to shape the base of the matrix, arranging the runes in a logical sequence, aiming for stability. Just three runes to work with, after all. The general rule dictated that the Oblivion rune go first—it’s universal, after all—leaving me to sort the others. My first attempt? [Charge] [Arc] [Discharge]. The whole thing destabilised and fizzled instantly.

But I hit it right on my second try: [Charge] [Discharge] [Arc]. The matrix immediately stabilised, and I nearly skipped a heartbeat at the sight. I stared at the bright blue line of runes—utterly mesmerising.

The work wasn’t done yet, though. The next task was to fine-tune the mana input for each rune, an art form of trial and error. I started off by feeding each rune a single point of mana.

[1 1 1]

And… it destabilised on the spot, fizzling out as the Oblivion rune halted the flow, preventing any energetic mishaps. Expected, of course. So I continued, adjusting the mana ratios until, at last, after five or six tries, I found the ideal balance:

[2 2 1].

Two points of mana into each charge and discharge, with one in Arc. This was it. I gazed at the finished matrix—I'd finally done it. I’d crafted my very first spell. The mana crackled, wild and untamed, with electric fervour. And I could hold it before releasing, as the mana threads I’d woven were so fine they wouldn’t easily destabilize.

I glanced around and spotted a nearby tree, taking careful aim. It felt like holding the trigger of a loaded gun, just waiting to be pulled. I closed my eyes and pictured that trigger. It was instinctual; before I knew it, the spell’s name was on my lips.

LIGHTNING BOLT!

I roared as the runes merged, and a blinding arc of lightning shot out before me. It wasn’t massive, but it struck the tree with a sharp clap, fizzling out and leaving a charred mark on the trunk.

For a moment, I simply stared at it. Then, unable to contain myself, I hopped up and laughed like an absolute madman. Ahahaha! At long last, I’d cast my very first spell! How long I’d waited, how I’d craved this moment! It had finally arrived.

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I forced myself to settle down when two breath signatures shuffled nervously on the edge of my air sense, perhaps unsettled by my wild celebrations. But sod it! I did a little dance as I tiptoed over to inspect the tree. It wasn’t as mana-efficient as my Flamethrower—only a single mana point for that with far more impressive results—but this spell had its advantages.

I ran my claw over the scorched mark the bolt left: a shallow but concentrated gouge. First advantage over Flamethrower? Range. And surely that would increase as my mastery grew. Plus, it was infinitely more flexible. With countless rune and mana combinations, I could conjure a range of effects. As my understanding of these runes deepened, I could even use my dream-inspired insights to customize them into entirely unique spells. Knowing Lotte, she’d chosen these runes for a reason.

All I had to do was explore their intricacies further.

I could finally understand why a monster’s magic was so limited—they’re bound to use specific organs for different mana effects. But me? I had not only organs but mana veins. The best of both worlds. Organs offered efficient, convenient casting, but with this knowledge, I could stretch spellcasting to its utmost.

And truth be told, I was more of a… ‘second sort of dragon.’ Flamethrower might be efficient, but it’s as rigid as it is predictable. Admittedly, I’d grown tired of it—too repetitive, and far too easy for sharp foes, particularly those wily elves, to anticipate. Plus, it left much to be desired in both range and flexibility.

But those days were behind me now.

I looked down at my claws, still tingling from the lightning spell. My heart pounded. Then, with a grin, I glanced at the tree again. Sorry, tree. Looks like you’re in for a bit more abuse—I’m just getting started!

***

I kept at it, casting spell after spell, each shot sharper, more precise than the last. I'd never felt anything quite like this—an exhilarating rush of raw energy, like I was breathing for the first time, not with lungs but with mana. Every cast looped seamlessly into the next, conjuring the runes, charging the spell, firing it, and repeating the cycle, barely pausing. When my reserves started flagging, I relied on Core Stabilization to refuel.

Each cast wasn’t just a practice anymore. A study in motion. A dissection of each spell component in real-time. I could feel my understanding deepening with each repetition, like I was sensing the weave of each rune, the threads of mana linking into an intricate pattern. Soon, I wasn’t just casting; I was timing how fast I could complete each cycle. Not just a sequence of actions, but a rhythm.

A syncopated dance.

Of mana and of mind.

I don’t know how long I kept going. Hours, maybe. My claws throbbed with each strike lightning bolt, a persistent headache was building, but the results were worth it. Core Stabilization had levelled up to three. Lightning Affinity, now at level two. Advanced Mana Manipulation, also level two.

I’d started testing how much I could push the spell’s power, too. By keeping the mana ratio steady but increasing the overall flow, the Lightning Bolt became noticeably stronger, punching out in wider arcs, striking trees with a deafening crackle. Three had fallen under my constant abuse, their trunks smoking from the concentrated strikes. I felt a bit sorry for them, but research demanded sacrifice.

What I didn’t expect was the insight into the runes themselves. I’d read that runes were supposed to adapt to the mage’s understanding, that they would subtly reshape to reflect deeper insights. As I refined each cast, I could almost sense the nuances of my understanding shifting, trying to impress themselves onto the rune structure. Runes, after all, are as much a representation of one's mind as they are of magic itself.

But no matter what I tried, the runes remained unchanged. Despite the whisper of knowledge from those dream-memories, despite visualizing every adjustment, the runes looked exactly the same. It didn’t make sense. Every time I’d used knowledge from the dreams before, it had proven accurate, like a guide beyond even Lotte’s teaching. But here? Nothing. It was maddening.

Charge and Discharge… I started peeking into dreams once again. If I’d missed something essential about these foundational concepts. Charge, with its zigzag shape, represented not just energy buildup but the buildup of a potential difference. Not a burst of power as its original meaning intended; it was a carefully prepared imbalance, a set of electric layers packed so tightly they had no choice but to seek equilibrium at the first chance.

Discharge, on the other hand, was all about releasing that imbalance, letting that stored power explode out in a directional flow. The arrow at the center signified not just release but targeted release, like a gun barrel focusing a bullet. There was… something to it, real mechanics behind these matrices.

The theory was sound, but the runes themselves refused to shift or respond. I was hitting a wall.

Maybe it was exactly what Lotte had wanted. She’d given me these runes as a foundation, to test me, make me work out their secrets and apply them. But I was missing something, some key insight that would bridge understanding and action.

The spell remained stubbornly the same, the runes static. I clenched my claws, frustrated. This wall wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.

But I was bound to break through it. I was a stubborn dragon, after all. A dragon absolutely obsessed with magic. But even stubborn dragons had their limits, as my throbbing skull kept reminding me. I flopped onto the ground, groaning and rolling about, cursing my head for punishing my eagerness. Arghhh! Maybe I’d gone a bit further than expected. I was so absorbed in the rhythm of casting and re-casting, weaving and releasing mana, that I’d simply refused to stop. But I had to remember—my brain wasn’t made for relentless abuse. I could heal my body, sure, but there didn’t seem to be any healing for the mind just yet.

Mages usually had potions for mental exhaustion, and I knew the recipes for a few… not that they did me any good out here with no ingredients. No choice but to grin, bear it, and take a break.

That’s when I noticed my badger friend, who was watching my spellcasting with wide-eyed admiration, had laid out two new offerings: another rat and a bird monster with some truly nasty claws. How it had managed to snag that was beyond me! I couldn't help a grin. I loved this little guy—err, no, girl! Apparently. Didn’t ask me how I knew, just chalk it up to this uncanny knack I had for reading monster body language. So far, my guesses had been accurate. If they turned out wrong one day? Future Jade’s problem.

Once again, I sliced each offering and shared it with my valiant hunter. She eagerly dug in, clearly pleased with my approval.

[Morphogen source assimilated.]

Hmm, no new gains. Expected. That reminded me I needed to advance my Mana Conduit Vasculature—I was only four Morphogen short. With those sneaky elves finally leaving the dungeon alone, it looked like I could hunt freely again.

After resting off the headache, I stretched out, told my badger friend to stay put, and set out, Air Sense on high alert for any nearby prey.

But instead of dinner, my sense caught something else entirely—three familiar breath signatures coming into range.

Elves?! AGAIN?!