Pines whipped past Kor as he pounded through the forest, drawn to the mana signature up ahead.

Too many trees. His senses flared, a chorus of distant energy spikes strumming through him—tuning forks. A wry grin touched his lips. Looks like everyone’s testing their devices.

The forest’s usual symphony was strangely muted, as though its creatures held their breath, aware of the intrusion. Pellet owls, he’d heard, were fiercely territorial. He swept his gaze across the towering pines, searching for any sign of feathered sentinels as he closed in on his target.

Could he, with enough focus, simply slip past unwanted encounters? Maintaining the reactive barrier was a slow, but constant, drain on his mana. Active recovery would demand a sanctuary, a place to drop his guard. By the void, I’ve never tried meditating while actively casting. He could manage it while running, thanks to Talen, but holding a shield simultaneously? He shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. So much to learn, so little time. Once back in Conflux, it would be top of the list.

A distant clang sliced through the stillness, jerking him to a halt. He stilled, becoming one with the wilderness, every sense reaching out. The sound echoed again, far off. Students already clashing? Let them tire themselves out.

The first mana source he’d detected lay just ahead. He slowed his pace, his eyes darting, scanning the surroundings. He crept forward, attempting a semblance of stealth, but the forest floor, a carpet of pinecones and fallen twigs, betrayed him with every step. Wizard training offered little help in this arena, it seemed.

He flitted from trunk to trunk, each movement measured. A subtle shift in the air, a change in the forest’s hum, brought him to a standstill. Something potent lay ahead. Relatively speaking, of course, as another distant tuning fork’s hum washed over him, a reminder of the wider conflict.

His brow furrowed, a sense of living energy pulsed before him. Not one, but multiple sources – one significantly larger than the others. His first Therastin nest? He scanned the surrounding trees for any sign of the other students.

With a single deep breath, and he began to weave his newest spell. A fierce grin stretched across his face as the magic built within him. Countless practice sessions over the past month, all without another student witnessing his creation. Training dummies could only reveal so much.

The seed of his fractal galaxy took form, inert, a coiled spring waiting to be unleashed. A compact disc forged of tiny, intricate fractals, all bound around a pulsating heart of pure uncertainty. That heart had been the spell’s greatest challenge, but now... He grinned again, a touch wider this time. Showtime.

Holding his energy close, a tightly controlled ember, he crept forward. One tree, then two, slid past. And then he saw it.

A screech, raw and piercing, ripped through the air the instant he laid eyes on it. A scorpion, the size of a large dog, perched atop a mound of earth, was only thirty yards distant. Its pincers snapped, its tail arched, a venomous promise. Now!

With a surge of power, he thrust his arm forward. The galaxy spiral materialised in a blaze of power, a miniature universe unleashed. The void-like core of dark energy spiralled outwards, forming a razor-sharp accretion disc, a whirling vortex of destruction that tore through the distance in a heartbeat.

The disc collided with the Therastin, the creature buckling under the impact of the dense fractal structure. The spinning edge, a whirlwind of sharpened stardust, ripped, tore, and shredded, eviscerating the scorpion in seconds. A shrill, dying screech pierced the air. Another heartbeat, and the attack punched clean through, the creature’s body torn asunder in a shower of green gore before the attack buried itself deep into the earth.

He stood, gobsmacked by the utter annihilation his spell had inflicted upon the ground behind the scorpion. He’d known it was powerful, but as the last vestiges of the spell dissipated, the sheer scale of the devastation sank in. Perhaps less power next time. He hadn’t come close to pushing his move to its limit. He pictured the disc tearing through a student’s barrier, or even flesh. Is this even safe to use on another student?

Another blast of magic, closer this time, sent a tremor through the ravaged earth. He flinched, the shock momentarily forgotten. This wasn’t a training ground; lingering here was dangerous. He rushed towards the mound, eager to inspect the remains. They were meant to be guarding eggs, after all.

Mana still swirled around the site of his attack, the Therastin’s ichor soaking into the loamy soil. He clambered atop the mound, questing for the source of the residual mana.

Several faint pulses emanated from within the small hill of dirt. None of them felt potent; the parent had definitely held the more concentrated energy. They aren’t expecting us to retrieve one of these things alive, are they? Perhaps some kind of animal tamer could manage it. Not that he’d heard of any such magic amongst the first years – though there were hundreds of his peers, an entire world of unknown possibilities.

Digging these up would be a waste of time. He swept his gaze around, taking in the towering pines that hemmed him in, their dense trunks restricting his view even from atop the mound. A distant explosion, muffled and distorted by the trees, echoed through the forest. Better keep moving.

As he pressed on, the ambient mana grew denser. The trees, too, seemed to respond, swelling in size. Though still relatively sparse, their girth had widened significantly, each ancient trunk now resonating with a palpable energy.

Would this trend continue all the way to the centre? Perhaps this was the source of the enchanted wood so prized by crafters—the further he travelled, the more potent each pine became. He’d experimented with some for his heater project, but none of the varieties held any synergy with his specialisation.

Mana surged behind him. Instinct took over. He spun, throwing himself aside as his fractal barrier flared to life, a shimmering shield of interwoven snowflakes.

A cannonball of metal hurtled past, a hair’s breadth from his face, grazing his snowflake shield in a burst of coruscating energy. It slammed into a nearby pine, splintering the trunk with a deafening crack. Kor scrambled for cover, throwing a thick trunk between himself and his unseen assailant. Why’s the star-cursed boy attacking me?

The seed of his galaxy fractal formed in an instant, a miniature universe coiled and ready to unleash its fury. His attacker was still beyond his sensing range.

The attack had been powerful, but nothing his barrier couldn’t handle. Now fully formed, he fed it a steady trickle of mana, and risked a quick glance around the tree.

Gone.

He snapped his head back, his ward humming with power. Each moment, his barrier continued its recursion. With only a few brief seconds, it was more than capable of deflecting several more attacks of that calibre. Kor stepped out from behind the tree, his eyes darting, searching the forest for any sign of the boy, his counterattack held in check, a coiled spring of cosmic energy.

He edged forward, every sense on high alert, ready to react at the slightest—There!

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Even as the surge of mana pulsed, he held his ground, countering on pure instinct with his galaxy fractal. His disc, a swirling vortex of cosmic energy, hurtled through the air, colliding with the incoming spell and ripping straight through it. The fragmented cannonball spun harmlessly aside, and in the fleeting instant before his attack slammed into the boy’s barrier, Kor saw his eyes widen in shock.

The barrier flared, a desperate golden shimmer, as his spell crashed against it, spinning, grinding, tearing. In the space of a single, heart-stopping moment, a spiderweb of cracks fractured its surface before the boy threw himself aside. Kor sprinted forward, a second galaxy seed already forming above his outstretched hand. The boy was momentarily obscured by a giant pine, but the tree would offer no sanctuary.

Kor flung another spiral, the disc of condensed energy tearing into the enchanted bark with a ferocious roar. A cacophony of shredding filled the air as his spell chewed through the wood, a maelstrom of splintering bark and heartwood erupting outwards before it smashed into the remnants of the boy’s barrier.

The golden aura of the boy’s student shield flared to life, a last-ditch defence as the galaxy ground against it for a few agonizing moments. Tiny cracks spider-webbed across the fallen boy’s protective field before the attack finally dissipated, leaving Kor skidding to a halt.

“Dammit!” The boy swore, even as Kor stared through the fist-sized hole, his heart pounding in his chest.

The forest seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the frantic thumping of his own pulse. Then, a subtle shift in the air, a ripple of displaced mana, and the grey-bunned professor who’d guided him earlier descended. Her brow furrowed, her voice taking on a sharp edge. “Be careful with that… spell,” she said, her voice tight. “First-year badges aren’t designed to handle anything too excessive.”

“Uh. Yes, Professor!” Kor’s voice caught in his throat. His mind still raced. One downside of his attack was its sheer, unyielding nature. Once unleashed, he surrendered all control. No redirection, no recall. Everything rested in the hands of the seed he’d created.

She shook her head, turning to the fallen boy and muttering something under her breath. A moment later, the two of them shot upwards, swirling with power, and vanished into the forest canopy.

He glanced around, searching for other students. Perhaps I should wait and see if anyone comes to investigate… I’ve already spent a third of my mana, and we’ve barely been going for a quarter of an hour.

Maybe if I can find somewhere defensible to take a breather and recharge. If he could conceal himself, his mana-sensing abilities should provide ample warning of approaching threats. A gamble, but he needed to be at full strength.

Another pulse, like the chime of a distant tuning fork, rang out, only a few hundred yards away. His fist clenched, his heart hammered against his ribs. He readied himself to move, when a daring idea sparked in his mind.

He raced off, boots pounding against the loamy forest floor, his shield held ready. He darted through the trees, every sense taut, every muscle coiled, ready to spring.

Movement, deeper in the woods!

He slid behind a thick pine, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he peered around the trunk. Another unfamiliar girl. He set off to follow, maintaining enough distance to stay hidden, even from a prodigy like Marcus.

She moved with a cautious grace, her green hair spilling over her dark robes as she crouched low, her head swivelling from side to side, scanning the surroundings. These brief pauses allowed him to recover somewhat.

The sooner I can take to flying everywhere, the better. Even though his stamina had improved by leaps and bounds, and he’d shed a considerable amount of weight, running through a forest, constantly expecting an ambush, was draining, to say the least.

He continued to shadow her, a silent phantom flitting through the trees, always alert, always ready to react. His sense of time had warped since the exercise began. Had it been hours, or mere minutes? The thickening canopy, blotting out the twin suns, offered no clue.

Pulses of mana had grown less frequent now. Presumably, other students had either been eliminated or had decided against using their tuning forks. However, the girl ahead clearly felt differently. She reached for the tuning fork once more. His eyes widened in sudden realisation: the device would likely pinpoint him with his barrier active.

With only a heartbeat to spare, he glanced around, ducking low as he dropped his shield entirely. Half a beat later, the distinct resonance of the tuning fork washed over him, a wave of magical energy.

He held his breath, hoping that without his active magic, the device wouldn’t register him as a viable target. I should have thought to test mine after defeating that other student.

He remained perfectly still, pressed against the rough bark of the pine, low to the ground, reaching out with his mana sense. Distant pulses, echoes of spells, bounced around the forest like phantom heartbeats as he strained his range to the limit. Nothing nearby, except… up in the trees, something resonated with energy, and it was moving!

He considered raising his ward for a fleeting moment as the creature swooped downwards, disappearing from his sensing range. Was that a Pellet Owl?

He craned his neck, peering around the tree, his barrier still deactivated. Three small projectiles hurtled from the descending creature, impacting the girl’s shield with sharp cracks. Yep, Pellet Owl.

An outraged yell followed the attack as she prepared to retaliate. He lingered, gauging her abilities. Small projectiles, like darts, fired from her outstretched hands, peppering the air around the Pellet Owl as it weaved and bobbed. Thorns?

Kor pulled back, his mind racing.

The distraction made his position ideal. A conveniently placed thicket of bushes grew close to the base of the great pine. Now was the time. He plunged into his mana, calling upon it to gather the ambient energy and replenish his reserves. The process had become second nature; Terrak’s advanced technique had seamlessly integrated into his practice, and he opened himself to the flow.

The density of mana here was astounding, surpassing even that of Conflux Academy. In mere moments, his body thrummed with power, his reserves rapidly refilling. The surrounding currents swirled and eddied, a vortex of energy pouring into him.

Another volley of spells echoed through the trees as the girl and the owl continued their duel. She wasn’t much of a threat—he could take her out easily once he’d recovered. But for now, she was acting as an unwitting beacon, drawing other threats to her.

Her battle with the Pellet Owl stretched on for an embarrassingly long time. He’d fully recovered his mana and watched, concealed, as the fight drew to a close. Finally, she connected, a string of razor-sharp thorns scything upward to tear the creature from the sky.

With the creature finally dispatched, she slumped down, collapsing her shield and resting her back against a pine. Is she really meditating now? He could barely credit it. One quick shot, and she’d be out. Suppressing a sigh, he raised his barrier again, a shimmer that consumed minimal energy, and waited for her to resume.

Is this really how the strongest wizard should behave? Thoughts of the First Magus flashed through his mind. Strong, unyielding, decisive. Somehow, he doubted the man had cowered like this, even in his youth. There was a place for strategy and planning, but this felt… cowardly. He sighed again, rising from his hiding place and stepping out into the open, heading towards the girl.

He had his barrier up, but raised his hands in a gesture of peace as he approached. “Hey, I’m not looking to fight!”

Instantly on alert, the girl’s shield materialised, a shimmering emerald, as she sprang to her feet, already forming a spell.

“I don’t want to—”

Thorns shot out, weak, almost pathetic, but he stood his ground, letting them ricochet harmlessly off his snowflake aegis. He repeated himself, his voice firm. “Look, I don’t want to fight you.”

She looked more incensed than he expected, and then, without warning, something slammed into his shield from behind. The impact sent him sprawling, rolling uncontrollably until he crashed against the base of a tree. What?!

His barrier cracked, and he pushed himself up, scrambling to his feet just as a jet of flames tore towards him. Strangling a yelp, he dived aside, the flames splashing against the bark where he’d been standing, scorching his shield as he scrambled for cover. Thorns slammed into his ward, a spiderweb of tiny cracks spreading across its surface. He flooded the snowflake with mana, reinforcing it.

A quick glance over his shoulder, and he saw an earthen fist, a grotesque parody of a hand, hurtling towards him. He dived behind a giant pine, the cracking of bark echoing through the forest as the fist impacted the tree. The seed of his galaxy spiral formed in his mind, a miniature universe ready to unleash its fury, even as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

Three students? She was working with others – how come…

Something moved at the edge of his detection range, surging with mana. Void take it!

He sprinted from behind the tree, a blur of motion, as half a beat later, the spot where he’d been standing erupted in flames.

He glimpsed the pyromancer, a typical Solarian sneer twisting his features. Kor darted for cover, throwing out his fractal galaxy, a whirling disc of cosmic destruction. But the boy was no fool, jumping aside at the last moment. Kor’s attack only managed to shear a crack into the side of his barrier.

Another earthen fist clipped his barrier, the force of the blow twisting him mid-stride. He stumbled, falling into an uncontrolled roll, narrowly avoiding a string of razor-sharp thorns that whipped past his head. He scrambled back, his gaze darting between the three students now arrayed against him, his shield strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his lungs burning. Three against one—a fitting challenge.

A manic grin split his face. Time to stop holding back.