Erik's two-month training had begun—and it was brutal.
Every day started with sparring against Leena, followed by long meditation sessions to restore his depleted mana.
Then came the next round: footwork drills. Under Leena's cold, quiet guidance, Erik learned to fight with his legs—not just as balance, but as weapons.
The day always ended the same way: Erik pushed himself until every drop of mana was wrung from his core, only to refill it through meditation and a bit of help from Kruzen. Again. And again. And again.
He had clear goals.
First, to use basic fire spells like Fireball without relying on Sheets.
Second, to master kicking as part of his combat style.
Third, to learn how to coat his weapons in fire without entering Core Activation.
And finally, to unlock his second element—electricity.
After the first week, Kruzen started to mix things up.
Different opponents were brought in to spar against Erik—each one with a distinct style and magical affinity. It forced Erik to adapt, to improvise, to sharpen every edge of his skillset.
In the chaos of those matches, Erik developed a new rhythm: wielding his sword and dagger simultaneously. It proved particularly effective against spellcasting enemies, giving him speed, unpredictability, and range.
Just like that, two months passed.
---
In Archmage Kruzen's Office
Kruzen sat at his desk, drowning in paperwork. He leaned back with a sigh, stretching his shoulders.
"Ah… what a long day. I wonder why he's coming to my office now…"
The door opened without a knock.
Rowan Vykie stepped in.
"Rowan," Kruzen greeted, not looking up. "It's been a while."
"It certainly has," Rowan said with his usual unreadable tone. "I was passing through this wing and thought I'd check in on my dear peers. Figured you deserved a visit too."
"How thoughtful," Kruzen said dryly. "So, what do you want?"
Rowan chuckled. "Straight to it, huh? You haven't changed. I'm here to ask about the rookie."
Kruzen's eyes narrowed slightly. "You mean Erik?"
"Erik," Rowan repeated, almost testing the name. "I'm curious—why are you training him?"
"He joined the White Wolfs. As senior adviser, it's my job to make sure he's ready for the Velhein raid."
"Lies," Rowan said, his smile gone. "You know lying to me is pointless."
Kruzen exhaled slowly, then set his pen down.
"Do you remember why I agreed to train you?"
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "No. Enlighten me."
"It's because you were different," Kruzen said. "Someone like you needed to be looked after—handled by someone who understood the danger of letting potential run unchecked. Who knows where you would've ended up otherwise?"
Rowan's expression didn't change, but something in his gaze tightened.
"So you're saying Erik could be like me?"
"No," Kruzen replied. "Not like you. But he's different, just like you… Leena… and Yosul. If left unchecked, he'll lose control."
Rowan crossed his arms. "You speak like you've seen his future."
Kruzen didn't respond at first. He stood and walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. His voice was quieter when he spoke again.
"I can't see the future—not yet, at least. But it's not about seeing it. It's… something I felt."
"Felt?"
Kruzen nodded. "Yeah, even I cannot explain what it was but I think he's worth keeping close."
Rowan let out a breath. "So that's your answer. Well, if you say so"
He turned toward the door.
"What about when he goes to the Academy?" Rowan asked. "We can't protect him there."
Kruzen turned back. "Then we hope for the best."
Rowan smirked. "This is why I like you."
He opened the door, stepping out with a casual wave.
"That's all I wanted. See you around."
The door shut behind him.
Kruzen leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
"…What a troublesome child you've become, Rowan."
---
Black Mountain, Velhein — Two Weeks Before Erik's Training Ends
The wind howled along the jagged cliffs of the Black Mountain. Ash-colored clouds hung low in the sky, casting a dull shadow over the land.
Yosul walked along the edge of the cliff, boots crunching against the coarse sand beneath him. He paused, lifting one foot slightly. The grains sticking to the sole weren't brown or golden like normal—no, they were black.
"So that's why they call it Black Mountain," he murmured.
A soldier from his squad approached. "We should be getting close, Master Yosul."
"Got it."
Without hesitation, Yosul stepped off the cliff.
The others followed.
They dropped like stones—until, moments before impact, a wind mage among them spread his arms. A soft gale swirled beneath the team, slowing their descent. They landed safely on the rocky terrain below.
Yosul stepped forward, eyes scanning the desolate ground. Then he saw it—a narrow crack in the earth, roughly eight feet long and a foot wide. It was pitch black inside, deeper than it looked.
He crouched beside it and placed his hand on the stone. Closing his eyes, he focused.
A few moments passed in silence.
Then he exhaled, slowly.
"This is going to be a problem," he muttered.
"What do you mean, Master Yosul?" one of the officers asked.
Yosul stood, brushing dust from his palm.
"There's a cave beneath this crack. It connects directly to the dungeon. And the monsters down there…" He paused. "They reek of corrupted mana. A lot of it."
The team exchanged uneasy glances.
"I wonder if the hunters we're bringing will be enough," Yosul said, more to himself than anyone else.
"Then we should send word to the Commander," another officer suggested.
"No need," Yosul replied. "I'm sure he already anticipated this. We'll follow the plan and return to Kali Village, just like Commander ordered."
"But Master—are you certain that's wise?"
"Yes," Yosul said firmly. "Mark this location. It'll be important when the raid begins."
He turned away from the crack.
"We'll wait in Kali Village for the Commander's next orders."
"Yes, Master!" the team echoed.
"Alright. Let's move."