Julian fought desperately against the rising Abyssal creatures, but he had reached his limit. Exhaustion weighed on him, and for the first time, he felt the sting of true desperation. If he fell here, it would all be over. His body began to heat up, an unfamiliar sensation that jolted a memory from the imperial study—a moment etched into his mind.
It was an ordinary day at the palace, with the three of them—Ayden, Athena, and Julian—gathered for lessons on mana, runes, and arrays. The stern imperial tutor stood before them, his gaze sharp. “Do any of you know how to tap into your mana?”
Ayden raised his hand confidently. “When you meditate and concentrate, you can feel your mana. But to use it, another mana user has to inject their mana into you to break the seal.”
The tutor adjusted his spectacles, nodding. “Correct. But there’s another way. Do you know it?”
Confused glances passed between them as the tutor continued, “This method isn’t written in any book because it defies explanation. When your life's on the line, your survival instinct can forcefully break the seal. It’s called a mana awakening.”
Skeptical as always, Ayden asked, “How is that possible?”
The tutor chuckled. “We believe it’s the sheer will to live. Your body will feel hot, your heart will race, your breath will turn ragged—like you’re on the brink of death.”
The memory faded, but the reality was here. Back then, Julian had grumbled that the tutor was making it up. Yet now, as his body burned, his heart pounded, and every breath felt like fire, he realized: this was no lie. It was happening to him.
Julian closed his eyes, bracing himself for the discomfort of his mana awakening. A surge of energy erupted from his body, sending shockwaves through the academy and alerting everyone. Back in their lessons, the tutor had taught them how to sense mana, but this was different. With his eyes closed, Julian could now feel it—his spiritual landscape revealed a flowing river, cold yet comforting, powerful yet gentle like a breeze.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the world differently. Tiny specks of mana floated around him like glowing fireflies. For a moment, he was frozen, a single thought racing through his mind: Now what?
In the observation room, the professors could hardly contain their excitement. “Alfred, what skills will he inherit from his parents?” one asked eagerly.
Alfred smiled faintly as he replied, “From his father, it will likely be the Storm Slash. It’s an inherited skill, passed down through generations of the Morari family.”
“What about his mother?” another professor pressed.
“She was a warrior under Princess Agatha of Arcane. It could be anything,” Alfred said thoughtfully.
Meanwhile, Julian stood amidst the chaos, untrained in using mana but guided by faint memories. His father’s words echoed in his mind: ‘Julian, when your mana awakens, you’ll feel a voice inside asking, “What next?” Don’t fear it—just let your mind connect the invisible dots.’
Taking a deep breath, Julian closed his eyes again, allowing the energy to guide him. Time seemed to slow as the gentle flow of mana within him extended outward. He could feel the wind elements in the air wrapping around his sword, merging with his own mana. Confidence surged within him.
With newfound resolve, he raised his sword, lunging toward his enemies. “Storm Slash!” he roared.
A storm erupted from the blade’s tip, wind blades hidden in its vortex tearing through the fire hounds in his path. In one devastating move, he annihilated the creatures surrounding them.
After that single move, Julian went pale, completely drained of energy. Ayden, often praised by their tutor for his sharp mind, quickly realized what was happening. He remembered the tutor’s words: “The first time using mana will leave you utterly drained.” Now, Julian was exhausted, and whatever happened next depended entirely on him.
Think, Ayden. Think. What should I do? A mental conflict swirled within him. Don’t you want to live? Don’t you want to save your friend? The internal struggle grew sharper, and a sudden, piercing headache made him clutch his head in agony.
Then, time seemed to stop. The trial ground dissolved into a white void, and Ayden found himself standing in an endless, glowing expanse. Frantically, he scanned his surroundings until a figure bathed in radiant light approached him. Though Ayden couldn’t make out their face, he could feel the divinity emanating from them.
In a soothing yet commanding tone, the figure spoke. “Child, it’s nice to see you again.”
Confused, Ayden stared at the figure, puzzled by their words. The figure chuckled softly. “Don’t be confused. When we last met, you were just a baby. It’s normal you don’t remember me.”
The figure’s gaze was warm and filled with an indescribable love. “Back then, someone attempted to switch your fate with your sister’s. But because of her unique circumstances, you were left on the verge of death.”
“What?” Ayden whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.
The figure continued, “I couldn’t stand idly by as a child suffered because of the Abyss’s darkness, planted to disrupt my successor’s path. So, I intervened. I saved you both and linked your fates.”
The figure paused, their voice taking on a serious tone. “Now, my child, I must ask—are you willing to become an apostle?”
Ayden raised his hands, as if to halt the conversation. “Wait, stop! What are you talking about? Who is this ‘successor’?”
The figure chuckled again. “You’re sharp. It won’t be hard for you to figure it out.”
Suddenly, Ayden’s eyes widened as if struck by a startling realization. “You… You mean—?”
The figure laughed heartily, clearly amused. “Yes, that’s it, my child. Are you willing to become the apostle of my one and only successor?”
Ayden’s lips curled into a smile. He bowed deeply, his right hand placed over his heart. “If it’s her, I will follow her with unwavering loyalty.”
The figure smiled, their expression radiating approval. “Then go, and help her fulfill her life’s mission. Let’s keep it a secret between us. When the time comes, it will reveal itself. Until then, don’t tell anyone about my successor—not even her.”
With those parting words, the figure vanished, and Ayden was back in the trial ground. He closed his eyes, a smile spreading across his face as he embraced his mana awakening.
While the professors monitored the trials, they were suddenly taken aback by two massive mana eruptions—one from the Delta trials and the other from the Alpha trials. In the Delta trial, Ayden's small, ten-year-old body was now covered in glowing, light green patterns that shimmered like starlight. Radiant energy surrounded him, illuminating the trial ground with an otherworldly brilliance.
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The professors stared at the scene in astonishment.
“Principal,” one of them exclaimed, “aren’t those patterns exclusive to saints?”
Sylvester shook his head calmly. “No. Anyone blessed with divinity can manifest those patterns on their body.”
Professor Madeleine squinted at the screen, her curiosity piqued. “That’s fascinating. But the boy isn’t from the bloodline of saints… So how is this possible?”
A quiet, steady voice cut through the murmurs. It was Professor Albert, known for his cold, aloof demeanor and for only speaking when absolutely necessary. “I’ve read in the restricted books in the upper levels of the library that anyone can gain divine blessings if they pledge their loyalty to a god and become their apostle.”
The room fell silent as the professors absorbed the weight of his words.
“An apostle at such a young age,” one professor murmured, his tone filled with disbelief. “Incredible.”
Back in the trial ground, Ayden let his instincts guide him. He spread his arms wide, and sparkling green butterflies emerged from his glowing patterns, fluttering into the air before darting toward the fire hounds closing in on him and Julian. The boy extended his right hand and uttered a single word:
“Blast.”
The butterflies detonated upon contact, erupting into explosions that shredded the fire hounds into pieces. Ayden scanned his surroundings, remaining vigilant. Then, from the shadows, four hellhounds emerged, drawn by the scent of blood and the sounds of battle.
Ayden attempted to use Blast again, but this time it only slowed the hellhounds’ approach. His sharp mind raced as he looked at Julian, who was still struggling to stand, his exhaustion visible. Julian, now watching Ayden with concern, seemed to know this next move would take everything he had left.
Focusing deeply, Ayden poured his mana and divine blessing into one final effort. Butterflies emerged from his glowing body once more, this time flying toward Julian.
Julian’s eyes widened in confusion. “Ayden, what are you—?”
“Brother, don’t worry,” Ayden said, his voice calm but firm. “Once I do this, I’ll collapse. The rest is up to you. These are the last enemies.”
The butterflies surrounded Julian, their soft glow wrapping around his body. Ayden raised his trembling hands and shouted, “Recover!”
As the spell activated, Ayden collapsed, his body falling limply to the ground.
Julian, now fully enveloped in the radiant energy, could feel his body being restored to its peak condition. His exhaustion disappeared, replaced by a surge of strength and mana coursing through him.
The four hellhounds charged toward him, their dark auras crackling with menace. But Julian’s instincts had taken over. He raised his blade, now infused with divine power, and pointed it toward the advancing creatures. His voice rang out clearly:
“Light of heaven, burn the darkness!”
A searing beam of light shot from the tip of his sword, engulfing the hellhounds in blinding radiance. The creatures howled in agony as they were reduced to ashes, the darkness they carried consumed entirely by the holy light.
Julian panted heavily, his vision swimming. Before the world around him faded to black, he caught a glimpse of the dark sky above turning bright.
With a faint smile, he muttered, “Aaaah… We did it.”
And then, everything went silent.
At the same moment Ayden awakened his mana, Athena also felt a profound change in her body. She had been struggling against the hellhounds—not to the point of feeling her life was truly in danger, so why now? The voice she had heard on her journey to Finley spoke again, calm and soothing: “Don’t worry, just embrace it with your heart.”
The mana eruption that followed was unlike anything else, immense and awe-inspiring, as if it reached the heavens themselves. Golden patterns illuminated her body, and her glowing eyes burned with an intense killing intent. Standing amidst the chaos, her laughter rang out, manic and unrestrained. "You there, mutts from hell! Care to dance with me?"
She moved with deadly grace, her twin blades slicing through the air as though she were performing an intricate dance to a haunting, silent melody. Her swings were fluid, precise, and devastating. With one swift motion, she decapitated a hellhound on her left, its body crumpling before it even realized it was dead. The more she killed, the brighter her golden patterns shone, and the stronger her blade aura grew.
By the time all the hellhounds lay dead, she stood amidst their mangled corpses, waiting for her next prey. It was a chilling sight—this ten-year-old girl, glowing with divine energy, drenched in blood, surrounded by a mound of lifeless bodies.
She didn’t have to wait long. The next wave arrived: orc scouts—massive, green-skinned brutes with grotesque features. While formidable in size and numbers, they lacked tactical finesse. At first, they seemed to fall easily to her blades, but soon they adapted, working together to trap her.
Surrounded and outnumbered, desperation fueled her creativity. Her mind raced, and an idea sparked. Conducting mana to the blade in her left hand, she manipulated it into a complex array, one she instinctively formed despite never practicing it before. With a sharp thrust, she plunged the blade into the ground.
A radiant barrier erupted around her, shimmering with an absolute power. The orcs, now in a frenzy, attacked it relentlessly. But this wasn’t just any barrier—it was a refined version of the one still protecting Arcane. The moment their attacks collided with it, the barrier absorbed the impact, amplifying the force twofold before sending it back in a violent wave. The orcs were knocked back, dazed and disoriented.
The brief reprieve gave Athena all the space she needed to resume her relentless carnage.
Once the orc scouts were defeated, the next wave arrived—orc warriors, stronger and far more formidable. Yet Athena, in her Dance of Bloody Fury, gave them no chance to retaliate. Right now, she was an unstoppable force, her blades slicing through numerous upper-level creatures with terrifying efficiency.
When the last orc fell, she thought the trial was finally over. But to her shock, an orc far larger and stronger than any before emerged from the shadows. One glance was enough to tell her that this was no ordinary enemy. Clutching her swords tightly, her unwavering determination flared, though a part of her knew this opponent would be far from easy.
The orc’s deep, guttural voice echoed through the battlefield. “You puny little thing. How dare you step into my territory.”
Unlike the others, who only roared and growled, this one spoke—a chilling sign of its intelligence. Athena’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t just a stronger foe; it was a general-level boss monster.
Before she could respond, the orc lord, despite his massive size, lunged at her with astonishing speed. His colossal axe came down with deadly force, but she managed to evade by leaping backward just in time. The orc lord attacked relentlessly, his strikes unrelenting and fierce. Athena’s blades, which had felled countless enemies, failed to even graze his skin.
When another devastating swing of his axe came her way, she summoned her Absolute Barrier. Though the barrier saved her life, she felt her body weakening under the strain of rapid mana use. Her ten-year-old frame was nearing its limit. I have to end this soon, she thought, clenching her jaw.
The orc lord’s axe collided with her barrier, only for the attack to reflect back at him, doubled in force. The blow injured the orc lord, but instead of retreating, it triggered something far worse—he went berserk.
Athena’s heart sank. High-level orcs possessed the ability to enter berserk mode when enraged, amplifying their strength and speed to monstrous levels. The orc lord roared, his muscles swelling, his eyes glowing with unbridled fury. Athena gritted her teeth. Her body was nearing collapse, and now she faced a berserk boss monster.
Her mind raced for a solution, but none came. She could feel the toll her constant mana usage had taken; her body was screaming for rest. Her vision blurred, and her movements slowed. Am I reaching my limit? she wondered, a pang of frustration piercing her chest.
Meanwhile, in the monitoring room, the professors watched the trial with bated breath. The Delta trial had ended, but in the Alpha room, the sight of a ten-year-old girl facing a berserk boss monster was unprecedented.
Professor Alfred’s sharp eyes recognized Athena’s Dance of Bloody Fury immediately. “That’s a mutated form of her mother’s skill, Holy Dancer,” he murmured. He stroked his chin, deep in thought. “In my opinion, this suits her more than her mother’s original Holy Dancer.”
The other professors remained silent, their gazes fixed on the magical screen. When Athena, who had so easily dominated her opponents until now, stood still with a troubled expression and unfocused eyes, Alfred’s heart ached.
He clasped his hands together, murmuring a silent prayer. Please… let a miracle happen. Let this child find a way out of her current predicament.