Evelyn's POV
Another weekend, another skirmish.
As usual, Marcus stood at the front, spear in hand, commanding the fighter unit. Lina stayed at the rear, steady and calm, directing the mages to cover the fighters. It was the same formation as always—at least, that's what I thought.
But today, they surprised me.
"Now!" Lina called, and suddenly, half a dozen eagle-shaped mana puppets swooped down from above, wings beating as they dove straight into my goblin constructs.
Before I could even process it, Marcus shouted, "Push them in!" and a wave of wild boar puppets rammed into my goblins from the flanks, scattering them like leaves in a storm.
I blinked, then grinned. So, they've finally started thinking beyond the basics.
The children whooped and cheered as their strategy played out. Even my goblin king puppet wasn't spared; Marcus conjured his armored knight puppet, forcing the goblin king into a brutal two-on-one duel. Sparks of light flickered across the battlefield as healing-coated blades clashed against my creations.
When the last goblin puppet fell, the villagers' children erupted in victory cries, sweating but smiling.
I clapped my hands together. "Well done, everyone. That was clever—using air and ground assaults together. I didn't expect the eagle puppets at all."
One of the younger boys puffed up his chest. "It was my idea! Birds attack from above, right? So we just made our own."
"And the boars were mine," another chimed in proudly. "They hit harder than wolves!"
I couldn't help but laugh. Their creativity was beyond anything I had planned for them. I named the spell 'Mana Puppet' because I thought of it as a simple tool, a puppet with no will of its own. But these kids… they're showing me it can be much more.
Even outside of training, they'd been experimenting. Some of them rode wolf puppets to training. Others came on boars or even a ridiculous giant chicken puppet that made half the village laugh.
I guess practicality isn't the only use—they're having fun, too.
That day, I also brought Lucas to watch the training. He clung quietly to my side, his big eyes following every movement.
"Can I try?" he finally asked in a small voice, tugging my sleeve.
I knelt down and ruffled his hair. "Not yet. You're only five, Lucas. The spell would eat up all your mana before you even finish casting it."
He pouted. "But I want to help too…"
"You will," I said gently. "For now, watch and learn. Patience is part of becoming strong. When you're ten, I'll teach you myself. Until then, focus on what you can do."
His expression brightened when I handed him a small practice exercise. "Here—try drawing mana from the air. Just feel it gather in your hands. Don't force it. Let it flow."
He squeezed his fists, face scrunched in concentration, until a faint shimmer of mana flickered around his palms.
"There you go," I said softly. "That's the first step. Master this, and when the time comes, cultivation will be much easier for you."
Watching him reminded me of something I had learned the hard way: cultivation has its limits. No one can begin before the age of five, and no matter how talented, no one can break through to stage five before fifteen. The body simply refuses to absorb the mana—it's like trying to pour water into a cup with a sealed lid.
Lucas nodded, determination in his eyes. For the first time since the orphanage, I saw a spark of hope in him.
And deep down, I knew—when the time came, that spark would become a flame.