Azriel sat in a meditative position with the elk antler in his hands. He guided the glacial energy into his own body.
Azriel was cultivating.
Azriel was considerably stronger than the others, and that was obvious to anyone who saw him.
One reason was that he had cultivated his body before cultivating his mind.
Another was that he had saved crystals for the day he acquired his familiar.
The last and less obvious reason was the set of techniques included in the Kingsroad on how to cultivate with maximum efficiency.
With all that Azriel reviewed his own knowledge.
For mages, cultivation required a familiar and many books, as well as mana-rich environments for the observation of phenomena.
But beyond that, cultivation for them was expensive. It required teachers and the money to buy books.
Education was costly.
Most of the young people with him had started cultivating their minds, but without books and without teachers, they were essentially just ordinary people.
For warriors, cultivation required a catalyst weapon. A named weapon that carried the blood and sweat of the one who wielded it.
A warrior's weapon was as unique as a mage's familiar.
And only that…
A warrior needed only to swing his blade thousands of times, until it became part of his very body.
A warrior did not need teachers or books. He only needed opponents and hostile environments.
As a sovereign candidate, Azriel had to master both paths.
But at this very moment, Azriel played the role of a warrior more than a mage, raising his blade with aura.
After all, he only needs a body and dedication to be a good warrior.
Azriel sighed and then drew his sword. The same sword that had been rusted when he bought it from the blacksmith now looked slightly cleaner and sharper.
Azriel still hadn't cleaned it before, so he took the moment to do so.
"Does it have a name?" Ion asked beside him.
"Azazel," Azriel said. "The Angel of Death."
"…"
Ion watched silently for a few moments while Simon held back laughter.
"How many times has the Angel of Death killed someone?" Ion asked again.
"Only once. This elk."
Simon kept laughing silently and said nothing.
"So, five minutes ago… the Angel of Death hadn't killed anyone yet?" Azriel nodded in agreement.
"…"
Simon burst into loud laughter while Ion just coughed awkwardly.
Azriel sighed.
"Have you absorbed the mana from the antler?"
"Yes." Simon nodded. "I feel like my mind has expanded again. Now I'll be able to cast more spells at once."
Tap
To illustrate, Simon summoned four flames above his head instead of the usual three. Then he snapped his fingers again, dispersing them.
"And Ion?" Azriel looked at Ion, who was cleaning the elk's meat.
"I chose to give my share to Simon. He'll make better use of it than me. Expanding my mind wouldn't increase my strength directly."
Azriel nodded. Ion didn't know any other magic, and he already met the requirements to fuse with Edronh.
Having more mental power wouldn't make any difference to him, whereas for Simon. Who summoned flames. it meant he could conjure even more with a single snap.
"We'll have other opportunities anyway. For now, we need to focus on what comes ahead. The night will be cold, and—" Ion coughed, drawing their attention.
"We've got elk hide to build a shelter. We can make a fire, channel its heat inside, block the wind with a barricade, and sleep comfortably."
Azriel and Simon, wide-eyed, both agreed with him.
"Sounds like a good plan to me…"
Azriel fell into a brief trance, then looked again at Ion's hands, which held a skinning knife as he expertly worked on the elk.
"You used to hunt around here?" he asked. Ion nodded.
"My father loved elk meat from this region and often brought me and my brothers along. Sometimes we even slept out here."
Azriel began to see Ion in a new light.
"I thought the forest was a nightmare for non-mages." Ion laughed at the idea.
"It is dangerous, but mostly after the solstice, when spirits wander through it. The rest of the year it's just regular beasts, which you can take down with some care."
He then gazed toward the horizon and added:
"After the halfway point to the academy, it does get much more dangerous. But up to that point, my father, a normal human, could still hunt here. As long as he was cautious and avoided predators and magical beasts like this one."
"I'm scared of your father," Simon said bluntly. "We haven't even entered the forest yet, and we've already run into a magical beast."
Ion laughed heartily.
"This time of year also produces more magical beasts than usual. Still, it all comes down to being careful."
"And he brought his young children with him," Azriel added. "I'm scared of a man like that."
"Hey! It wasn't that dangerous. There was only one time that—"
Both of them shivered just hearing the start of the story. They looked at Ion with pity.
"Now I understand why you turned out this way," Simon said, catching Ion off guard. "With a father like that, it's no wonder you're not right in the head."
Azriel nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Sometimes having a present father is worse than having an absent one. Poor Ion."
Ion stared wide-eyed at the two of them, then finally sighed.
"I'll give you less meat."
At last, he went back to calmly cleaning the meat while humming to himself, lost in childhood memories of that forest.
"In any case…" Azriel began, turning to Simon.
"Let's count this as our first stop. We'll eat, rest, and continue with whatever remains."
Azriel yawned as soon as he finished speaking. He still hadn't slept from the night before, after his adventure in the spirit world, he had cultivated and then rushed straight into the exam.
"I'll train with my sword. Call me when the meat is ready."
Azriel soon moved away from the group, raising his blade before him.
He could feel his strength being poorly applied with every strike, the transitions between them clumsy and off.
It was painfully clear he didn't yet know how to wield a sword properly.
And so…
He needed to train and grasp the sword's true intent.