Eamon stood beneath the ancient oak, the familiar rustling of leaves overhead a soothing presence against the whirlwind of changes he felt within himself. His core, now fully refined to a brilliant, throbbing red, pulsed steadily inside him, but it wasn’t just the magic. His entire body felt… transformed.

The air around him seemed sharper, clearer, as if his senses had been heightened. The weight of his limbs, the pull of his muscles, even the rhythm of his heartbeat—it all felt different, more in tune with something powerful simmering beneath the surface. A deep, restless energy seemed to pulse within him, waiting to be unleashed.

He flexed his fingers experimentally, marveling at how much stronger and more responsive his muscles felt. His hands clenched into fists, and with a surge of curiosity, he crouched low to the ground, feeling the coiled power in his legs. Without overthinking it, Eamon leaped into the air.

The ground beneath him blurred as he shot upward, his feet leaving the earth with explosive force. He soared higher than he had ever jumped before before gravity began to pull him back down. The wind rushed past his ears, and he landed lightly, his knees bending to absorb the impact. His feet hit the ground so smoothly that it almost felt like the earth was cushioning him.

Incredible.

He hadn’t expected such agility, such raw power from his body alone. The change wasn’t just in his magic; it was in his very flesh and bones. He straightened, his heartbeat steady, despite the exertion. Normally, a leap like that would have winded him, but now it barely registered as an effort.

To test further, Eamon strode toward a nearby boulder, one that usually required two or three people to shift. His hand touched the cold, rough surface of the stone, the texture familiar beneath his fingers. He tightened his grip and dug his feet into the earth, bracing his legs for the weight.

With a deep breath, Eamon heaved upward.

To his shock, the boulder lifted off the ground, the weight a fraction of what it had once been. He stood there for a moment, holding the massive stone above his head, unable to believe how light it felt.

This is… impossible.

He let the boulder drop with a soft thud, shaking his head in disbelief. His strength had never been exceptional—he’d been quick and agile, but raw power had never been his talent. And yet here he was, lifting stones as though they were little more than pebbles.

Eamon took a moment to collect himself, feeling a strange exhilaration bubbling inside him. My body’s stronger than I could’ve imagined. But the changes weren’t just physical. He could feel the refined core throbbing within, a dense reservoir of mana waiting to be used.

It was time to test his magic.

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He closed his eyes and focused inward, pulling on the internal mana that now pulsed so strongly in his chest. The warmth spread through his body, a familiar sensation, though now it felt clearer, more potent. He extended his hand, calling on the wind, but only drawing from the energy within him—his core.

A soft breeze stirred around him, the air shifting gently in response to his call. The grass at his feet swayed slightly, and a few loose leaves lifted from the ground, spinning lazily in the air. Eamon frowned. The breeze felt controlled, but it was weaker than what he’d grown accustomed to when using external mana.

He flexed his fingers, pushing more of his internal mana into the spell. The breeze intensified, but it still lacked the force he was used to. It’s strong, but not enough.

Eamon exhaled and decided to try again—this time without holding back.

He allowed his core to guide the spell but opened himself to the ambient mana around him as well, drawing from the vast energy in the air and earth. The moment he reached out to the external mana, the response was immediate and overwhelming.

The wind roared to life with a fury that startled even him. It wasn’t just a breeze—it was a gale.

Trees around him bent under the force of the wind, their leaves whipping wildly as branches creaked and groaned. The grass flattened, and loose debris scattered in all directions, caught in the violent swirl of air. Eamon staggered back, his eyes wide, struggling to control the massive surge of energy he had tapped into.

I didn’t expect this.

He raised both hands, trying to rein in the storm, but the wind howled louder, as if it had taken on a life of its own. The trees around him swayed dangerously, and for a moment, Eamon wondered if they might snap under the pressure.

With a great effort, he pulled back on the mana, shutting down the connection to the external energy. The wind slowed gradually, the violent storm giving way to a soft, eerie stillness. Eamon stood in the aftermath, panting slightly, his heart racing. The sudden silence was jarring.

The trees around him rustled softly, recovering from the assault, and the once chaotic winds now barely stirred the leaves. Eamon’s gaze swept the area, taking in the sheer magnitude of what he had just done. He hadn’t expected the increase in power to be that extreme.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. That was… incredible. The raw, untamed strength of the external mana had always been potent, but now, with his refined core, he could channel it with far more intensity than ever before.

He flexed his fingers again, feeling the energy humming beneath his skin. I knew there would be an increase, but this is beyond anything I imagined.

His control, however, still needed refining. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily overwhelm himself—or worse, cause unintended harm. But the potential was there, within his grasp.

Eamon closed his eyes, calming the pulse of energy within him. His body, now strengthened by the refinement of his core, could handle the surge of magic much better than before, but he had to learn to harness it properly.

With practice, he could master this new power. He had no choice—if the world outside Stonebridge was truly as dangerous as it seemed, he needed every ounce of strength he could muster.

As the wind gently swirled around him once more, this time controlled and deliberate, Eamon knew one thing for certain: he was no longer the boy he had been.

The refinement of his core, the strengthening of his body, and the surge of power from the external mana—it all pointed to a single truth.

He was ready. Whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever dangers threatened his home, Eamon would meet them head-on. And this time, he wouldn’t just survive. He would thrive.

With a final glance at the swaying trees around him, Eamon turned and began the walk back to Stonebridge, his steps light, yet full of purpose.