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Warmonger

Alonso's journey toward the mysterious dungeon was straightforward, following a well-worn path that cut through the Hungry Savannah—an expansive plain that seemed to stretch endlessly beneath the scorching sun. The landscape was a patchwork of dry, golden grass swaying gently in the warm breeze, interspersed with tufts of stubborn vegetation that clung to life in the arid soil. Despite its desolate appearance, the savannah was far from empty; it was alive with the presence of demonic beasts, their shadows flickering in the heat haze.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and sun-baked grass, mingling with the occasional whiff of something more sinister—a reminder of the lurking dangers. Without the protective cover of trees, the savannah offered a stark view, allowing travelers to spot potential threats from a considerable distance. This openness, while providing visibility, also heightened the sense of vulnerability, making it imperative for travelers and merchants to hire bodyguards to fend off any sudden attacks.

Alonso veered off the beaten path, choosing the open expanse of the Hungry Savannah as the perfect testing ground for his newfound magical abilities. The wide, empty plain offered ample space to unleash his power without concern for collateral damage.

"Let's see how this goes," Alonso muttered, a spark of curiosity lighting his eyes. He extended his hand toward the sky, palm open, as he carefully channeled mana into it. Slowly, a swirling orb of fire materialized—at first, no larger than a basketball, but alive with intense heat, its flames licking the air hungrily. With a swift motion, the fireball rocketed forward, streaking across the sky like a comet before exploding in the distance with a resounding boom.

A shockwave rippled through the air, sending a gust of hot wind back toward Alonso. He stared at his hand, intrigued by the ease with which the spell had manifested. That was... easier than I expected. His knowledge of combustion and heat transfer made the manipulation of fire feel second nature, as though magic itself was simply another scientific principle to be bent to his will.

In this world, magicians treated magic as a mysterious force, dependent on instinct and ritual. But for Alonso, it was far more systematic—an experiment in elemental physics. By manipulating the oxygen in the atmosphere and fueling it with mana, he could ignite flames as easily as flicking a switch.

"Let's take it further," he thought, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Focusing intently, Alonso funneled more mana into his palm. The fireball swelled in size, growing far beyond the first attempt. It expanded, its molten core pulsating, until it hovered above his hand like a miniature sun—its blazing light casting long shadows across the scorched savannah. The heat was immense, radiating outward and warping the air around him. The dry grass at his feet instantly withered and charred, the ground beneath him turning to smoldering ash.

With a flick of his wrist, the blazing orb streaked toward the horizon. Its descent left a fiery trail in its wake, lighting up the sky with a blinding glow. When the fireball hit the earth, it detonated with an earth-shattering roar, the impact shaking the ground beneath Alonso's feet. A towering mushroom cloud of fire and dust erupted from the point of impact, and the shockwave tore through the plains, flattening grass and rattling distant trees. The resulting crater was colossal, as if a meteor had smashed into the savannah, leaving behind a scorched wasteland that stretched for miles.

Alonso watched, breathless, as the devastation unfolded before him. His heart raced with exhilaration—not from fear, but from the sheer magnitude of what he had just accomplished. The power at his fingertips was awe-inspiring, but his analytical mind quickly shifted from the grandeur of the explosion to the finer details of the experiment.

As Alonso continued experimenting with his magic, he noticed something peculiar: every time he expended mana, it replenished almost immediately. There was no gradual fatigue, no diminishing reserve, just a steady, endless flow. What was even stranger was the distinct coldness to his mana, reminiscent of ice.

Curious, Alonso focused his mana into his eyes, enhancing his internal vision. As his gaze turned inward, he observed his own cells with startling clarity. What he saw left him speechless. His cells has some how evolved. They were no longer just biological structures; they had fused with Ice transforming into something extraordinary. Each individual cell now produced a cool like mana independently, functioning like an endless reservoir. It was as if his very being had become a living embodiment of the world's natural laws, capable of generating limitless energy.

Shock washed over Alonso as he tried to process the revelation. This... this shouldn't be possible, he thought, his heart racing. He recalled the books he'd studied back in the library. Every text agreed on one fact: mana was not infinite. It drained with use and replenished over time, but the amount one could store was fixed, dictated by their race or rank. Humans, unlike most other creatures, had the unique ability to increase their mana pool through rigorous training, but even they had limits. Every other being in the world—demons, elves, dragons—was born with a fixed reservoir of mana that could never be increased, no matter how much they trained.

But Alonso... he was different. His cells were generating mana, bypassing the natural limitations that bound every other existence. It was as if his body had broken free from the fundamental laws of this world. Infinite mana, he mused, still grappling with the enormity of it. This wasn't just a rare gift—it was unprecedented.

Though he didn't fully understand the mechanics, the basic truth was clear. His entire body had become a self-sustaining mana generator, something unheard of in all his studies. He stored this incredible revelation in the back of his mind, determined to examine his cellular structure under a microscope as soon as he had the means. There was no telling what secrets his body held now.

For now, though, he had more immediate concerns. The possibilities were endless, and there were still spells to master—spells that would push the boundaries of what even he thought was possible.

It should be noted that when Alonso first performed the Imperium Gene operation on himself, it was not an act of magic, but science. In fact, it was the very first time Alonso had ever encountered mana, a concept foreign to his previous world, where magic didn't exist. The Imperium Gene procedure was designed to awaken latent abilities within a person by putting their cells through intense stress. The process was purely scientific—no mana was ever intended to be involved.

But when Alonso conducted the operation, something unexpected happened. In his attempt to trigger his superpowers, he had unknowingly tapped into the world's magic. He conjured ice—an act that was initially instinctual, something he believed he was controlling through scientific principles, but in reality, it was mana at work. His goal was to use the ice to stress his cells enough to force a mutation, to awaken some dormant ability. But instead, something far more extraordinary occurred.

In that moment, the ice Alonso had conjured wasn't just any ice—it was created from pure mana. When he applied it to his cells, something remarkable took place. The mana-laden ice didn't just stress the cells; it fused with them. His cells, in a way that defied all known principles of both science and magic, absorbed the mana and became generators of it. What Alonso had stumbled upon was a pleasant accident—a discovery that could shift the balance of power in this world forever.

For now, Alonso remained blissfully unaware of the monumental nature of what he had done. But to anyone versed in the world's laws, this was nothing short of a world-shattering breakthrough. The implications were staggering. In this world, mana was a finite resource, an energy that, once used, had to be painstakingly replenished. Only through arduous training could humans increase their mana pool. No one, not even the greatest of magicans or the most powerful of beings, had the ability to generate infinite mana.

But Alonso had achieved the impossible. His cells now produced mana endlessly, turning him into a walking power source. Should this discovery ever come to light, it would flip the world upside down. Wars could be fought over this knowledge. Nations, factions, and powerful figures alike would either seek to harness Alonso's secret or destroy it. The balance of power could tilt toward absolute chaos, or unimaginable progress.

The most shocking part of it all? Alonso was clueless. To him, this was just another experiment, another result in his quest for knowledge. He hadn't yet realized the magnitude of what he had unlocked—the key to infinite power.

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Over the next few hours, Alonso experimented with a wide array of elemental spells, each one feeling as natural as breathing to him. He approached the process like a scientist, observing, analyzing, and adjusting the spells as they unfolded before him.

First, he conjured a fireball, watching with fascination as the air around his palm ignited. Combustion, fueled by oxygen and mana, Alonso thought, hurling the ball of flame into the distance. It exploded upon impact, a fiery shockwave spreading across the dry grass. The heat radiated back toward him, but his Ice Titan-infused cells kept his body cool. He smirked, amused by the irony. Let's step it up.

Next came the fire whip. A long, serpentine flame coiled in his hand, crackling with energy. He snapped it through the air, the heat carving a molten line into the earth where it struck. The heat intensity is far beyond what a typical whip could generate. Interesting. Alonso twirled it with ease, studying the whip's behavior before letting it fade away.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, a massive fire wall sprang to life in front of him, towering and roaring. The flames shifted and churned, forming an impenetrable barrier. A perfect defense mechanism, he thought, pleased with its versatility. Though, I'll have to control the oxygen intake more carefully in confined spaces.

Switching to water spells, Alonso began by summoning a water slash. A thin blade of water shot out from his hand, slicing through a nearby boulder with precision. Water pressure alone wouldn't cut this deep. It must be the combination of velocity and the elemental mana driving it. He nodded, satisfied with the results.

Then came a water jet. Alonso held his hand out, and a high-powered stream of water shot forward, cutting through the air like a laser. It blasted through the tall grass, uprooting everything in its path. The force is immense, not just elemental control, but hydrodynamic principles at work. Fascinating.

A water ball materialized next, floating in the air before him. Alonso guided it with ease, controlling its shape and movement. He then hurled it forward, where it burst into a wave that drenched the earth. Manipulating surface tension to hold its form. Another example of magic complementing physics.

Not done yet, he turned his attention to wind. With a simple motion, he conjured a series of wind slashes, each one tearing through the air with invisible, razor-sharp edges. The grass around him shredded in an instant. Pressure differences and air density—wind magic clearly relies on aerodynamics.

Then he raised both arms, summoning a swirling tornado that grew rapidly in size. The sheer force of the winds picked up loose debris, flinging it high into the air. Alonso hovered in the eye of the storm, perfectly calm. Wind velocity and centripetal force at play. I could control entire weather systems with enough mana.

With a thought, he cut the winds and floated gently back to the ground, using wind magic to support his descent. He studied the sensation of weightlessness, noting how the air currents bent around him. Flight without propulsion—pure manipulation of lift.

Finally, Alonso moved on to his most ambitious test: space manipulation. This wasn't just about the elements anymore—this was bending the very fabric of reality. He focused on a nearby rock, altering the gravity around it. The rock shot upward, weightless, before he pulled it back down to earth with a forceful slam. Localized gravity manipulation. With this, I could negate or enhance gravitational pull at will.

For his final test, Alonso concentrated harder, feeling space itself warp around him. With a surge of mana, he vanished from one spot and reappeared a few feet away. Teleportation. Short-range, for now, but the applications are limitless. Controlling space and gravity... I can reshape reality itself.

Feeling invincible, Alonso hovered in the air once more, his body radiating power. The savannah around him bore the marks of his testing—scorched earth, shattered rocks, and shredded grass. He looked down at his hands, both pleased and awed by his progress.

In this world, magic spells were, for most magicians, a game of trial and error. The average magician had no scientific understanding of the forces they wielded; instead, they relied on intuition and a rudimentary connection to the elements. For example, if a magician wanted to control fire, they would channel their mana and attempt to connect it to the raw essence of fire itself. But without knowing the exact elements or the specific frequencies that govern fire, they were often left fumbling, trying to stumble upon the right combination by chance.

This is why knowledge was perhaps the most valuable resource for a magician. It wasn't enough to possess raw mana; true mastery came from understanding the underlying principles of the elements—how they interacted, the energy they required, and their precise frequencies. Without this knowledge, spells were weak, inefficient, or unstable. Most magicians spent years—if not decades—learning how to link their mana to the world around them, and even then, their success was often limited by their lack of scientific insight.

But for Alonso, the process was startlingly simple. With 20,000 years of scientific knowledge embedded in his mind, he didn't need trial and error to manipulate the elements. He understood them at their most fundamental level. When Alonso conjured fire, he wasn't randomly linking his mana to an abstract idea of flame—he was manipulating the very building blocks of combustion.

To create fire, all he had to do was link his mana to the precise elements that composed it: carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen, and nitrogen. He knew their molecular structures and could break them down to their core components. Where a normal magician might spend years trying to guess the right combination of mana and element, Alonso knew exactly what ratio of each element was needed to conjure fire—down to the most minute detail.

His knowledge of thermodynamics, combustion, and energy transfer allowed him to control the size, intensity, and behavior of his spells with pinpoint precision. Whether he wanted a small flicker of flame or a towering inferno, Alonso could adjust the mana flow and elemental balance effortlessly. His mind, trained in the scientific method, allowed him to visualize the molecular reactions in real-time, granting him a level of control over magic that no ordinary magician could hope to match.

While others wrestled with spells that felt like forces beyond their comprehension, Alonso viewed magic through the lens of physics and chemistry. To him, casting spells wasn't mysterious or mystical; it was a logical, calculable process. His mastery over magic wasn't simply due to his strength or mana reserves—it was because he approached it with the mind of a scientist.

But even as Alonso marveled at his newfound power, a quiet, calculated thought surfaced in his mind.

"In a realm where gods walked, wielding power to reshape existence, there were always forces beyond even his reach."

He weighed the possibilities, analyzing what this meant for the future. His power was significant, but the existence of such entities reminded him that strength alone was never the full equation.

Alonso focused, channeling mana through every fiber of his being, feeling the raw energy surge through his veins like a torrent. His muscles tensed as the ground beneath his feet began to crack, small stones lifting into the air from the sheer force radiating from him. Slowly, his feet left the earth, hovering above the scorched grass.

Then, in an instant, he exploded upward with a thunderous crack, rocketing into the sky like a bullet fired from a cannon. The world blurred beneath him as he surged through the air at over 200 mph, the wind whipping violently against his face and roaring in his ears. His coat flapped wildly behind him, the sky turning into a sea of white clouds that he tore through effortlessly.

The feeling of flight, of absolute freedom, surged in his chest. Alonso adjusted his trajectory with precise shifts of mana, manipulating gravity as if it were second nature. His body floated smoothly, despite the immense speed, allowing him to dart left, right, and upwards as if gravity itself was at his command. Each movement was sharp, calculated, and elegant, as he zipped through the endless sky, leaving streaks of mana in his wake. The horizon stretched endlessly before him, yet for the first time, it felt within his reach.

Unbeknownst to Alonso, he passed dangerously close to a hidden floating island, its presence masked by ancient magic. He was lucky not to crash into it, or worse, provoke its inhabitants.

At the edge of the island, a figure sat with his legs dangling over the side. His blood-red eyes narrowed as he watched Alonso streak by, intrigued by Alonso soul fragment, from some strange reason he could see Alonsos soul.

This figure, Warmonger, was a fallen angel, his black wings folded neatly behind him. His long, jet-black hair flowed down to his knees, framing a face that was as pale as marble yet undeniably handsome. His sharp features—high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and thin lips—radiated an ethereal beauty that belied the festering corruption within. His eyes, cold and unyielding, glinted with an arrogant self-righteousness, as if the world existed only for him to control.

With effortless grace, Warmonger rose to his feet, a smile of self-satisfaction tugging at the corners of his lips. The power he radiated was suffocating, an oppressive force that bent the air around him. Despite his majestic appearance, the malevolent aura he exuded made it clear that he viewed all others with disdain and neglect, pawns in a game only he understood.

Warmonger clapped his hands once, the sound reverberating through the air with a sharp finality. A figure materialized beside him almost instantly—another fallen angel, kneeling before him. Her dark crimson wings stretched ominously behind her, and her blood-red eyes gleamed with wicked intent. She exuded a dangerous allure, both seductive and predatory, the very embodiment of temptation laced with malice.

"How may I serve you, my lord?" she purred, her she says dripping with a calculated deference. Though she masked it well, she knew her place—Warmonger's supremacy was not something to test.

He cast her the briefest, most dismissive of glances, his tone heavy with arrogant disinterest. "Track that creature," he ordered, the disdain in his voice making it clear that Alonso was of no more significance than a tool in his eyes. "It will yet have its uses."

Without another word, she slipped into the shadows, eager to obey. Warmonger smirked to himself, utterly convinced of his superiority. In his pride-blinded mind, no force could ever hope to challenge his dominion. The world, after all, already belonged to him.