The moment Shelby's head hit the pillow, he began snoring.
"Not even three minutes," Zane muttered with a faint smile. "This guy's too healthy."
But his smile faded as he looked down at his hands. His fingers clenched slightly.
"Still… I've got to try. I will create a Law of my own. Never know when I'll meet someone like that masked lady again."
He wasn't ready to sleep. Not after everything that happened tonight.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Zane closed his eyes and began to meditate, letting his breath slow and steady. His mind drifted back—Shelby's words ringing in his ears:
"Start small. Observe nature. Understand it. Then apply your mana accordingly. That's your first step."
"Alright," he whispered. "Let's start with my mana."
He sank deeper into focus.
He recalled the night he drank with Heron, the mysterious old man who might've been far more than he let on. The next morning—how everything had changed. How his body began to feel mana, as if it were part of him.
