Fifteen minutes later…
Arin sat cross-legged on the chamber floor, following Mike's strict guidance. But this was no ordinary room. It was a Mana Chamber on the sixth floor of the magic tower, specially designed for meditation and absorbing mana. The walls shimmered with blue stone, etched in ancient runes that formed interlocking circles, each revealing the natural current of mana in the air.
Above them, a massive crystal hung from the ceiling, glowing faintly as thin strands of transparent energy rained down like a slow, ghostly drizzle. They spread evenly through the chamber, filling the space with an otherworldly stillness.
Arin shrugged off his heavy coat, exposing his frail, pale body. He froze when he felt Mike's eyes on him, but the man only gave a faint smile.
> "As we've already discussed," Mike said. "You know what makes a mage. No more talk. We move to practice."
He stepped closer, pressing a firm hand onto Arin's back.
> "Now… focus. Close your eyes. Let the mana flow in from the surroundings. Guide it to your chest. Let it gather around your heart, slowly, steadily. That is how the first ring forms. The foundation of every mage begins here."
Arin obeyed. His eyes slid shut, his breath steadying as the air around him began to hum. The chamber itself seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. Mana filled every inch of space, drifting like motes of glowing dust. From the ceiling crystal, thin strands of energy descended, circling his body as though drawn by something unseen.
Then came Mike's push—a hidden current, warm and heavy, seeping into Arin's body.
It felt strange. Like a river of warmth trickling through his veins.
So this… is mana?
It was dense yet obedient, and the more he concentrated, the easier it was to steer. He guided the current to his chest, and with each breath, it drew closer to his heart. His body welcomed it naturally—until it didn't.
The moment it reached his heart, everything changed.
The warmth snapped into bitter cold. The current froze solid, then burst outward in silence, flooding every vein with ice.
Arin's body jolted violently. His breath hitched, his chest convulsing as agony shot through him. The mana didn't form a ring—it erupted into a storm of frost.
Mike's sharp instincts screamed. He tore his hand away, but not fast enough. A thin sheet of ice coated his palm in the blink of an eye. His eyes widened as it cracked beneath its own frost.
> "Impossible…"
This wasn't how awakening was supposed to go. First came the mana ring, then the purging of impurities. But Arin's body hadn't accepted mana at all—everything inside him froze. His heart wasn't a vessel anymore. It was something else. A source.
Cold devoured the chamber. Frost crept over Mike's fingers, numbing his grip. The air itself crystallized. Even the glowing runes flickered, straining against the surge. Above, the crystal dimmed as ice spread across its surface, smothering its light.
The floor glazed into a frozen mirror, cracking with sharp, echoing snaps. Books on nearby shelves split apart under the frost's bite. A lone candle on the desk froze mid-flame, extinguishing into silence.
For the first time in years, Mike felt the chill sink into his bones. His breath fogged in heavy clouds. This wasn't natural cold. It was something that defied every law of mana and heat alike.
Arin endured a torment no words could capture. Each vein felt like it froze, shattered, then reformed—an endless cycle of pain that threatened to rip his consciousness apart. His mouth opened, but only ragged breaths escaped, smoke from a dying fire.
Where mages expelled black impurities during awakening, Arin released a mist of blinding white—so pure it was terrifying. The chamber drowned in its fog, swallowed whole by a veil of frost.
Minutes dragged like centuries. At last, the flood of mana ceased. His body stilled. No mana ring had formed.
But when Arin opened his eyes, they gleamed with a piercing chill—the eyes of a white wolf in a blizzard. He stared at his trembling hands, then raised his gaze to Mike.
> "Why… can't I form a mana ring? The mana froze…"
Mike stepped forward, his voice weighted with gravity.
> "Do you remember when I told you about body constitutions? You have one… a rare one. The Nine-Point Yin Body."
His words hung heavy in the frozen air.
> "This could be your curse… or the power that makes you unlike anything in this world."