Humans had their affinities—fire, water, wind, earth—but the north was different. Demons and monsters wielded Miasma, a dangerous energy closer to death than nature itself, toxic to nearly every living being. Its presence was heavy here, saturating the air, the soil, even the water.
For humans, Miasma was deadly. But I survived. My innate skill—poison immunity—protected me. Normally, anyone attempting to touch or absorb Miasma would die within minutes.
I had been practicing beast breathing techniques for a week to train my aura, so I wondered if I could experiment with Miasma in the same way. But instinct screamed at me—this could go horribly wrong. I held back and decided to seek advice.
I walked ten minutes to the nearby village and asked the locals about a medical shop. They pointed me to a small building with a faded sign: "Fairy Health."
Though the Church controlled most healing in the north, some independent apothecaries brewed potions for adventurers and mercenaries. Profits here were higher than I had expected.
As I entered, a middle-aged woman glanced up. She seemed about to question my parentage, but my attire gave me away immediately.
"You're the boy from the mansion," she said knowingly.
I replied politely, "I'm just… someone who needs help," and asked about potions for basic aura training.
"I can give you a potion to train your aura safely," she offered. "At your age, you should start with basic internal healing."
I asked for eight bottles, knowing this was risky. Her eyes widened. Each bottle cost fifty silver coins—four gold in total. I handed her the coins. She smiled and, unexpectedly, added a small healing potion for minor injuries.
Before I left, she introduced herself. "I'm Vandelana. May I know your name, young master?"
A small smile formed on my lips. No one—not even my mother—had ever called me young master. I puffed out my chest and said, "Raven Kalyndor."
She smiled warmly in return, and I felt a little lighter.
Back at the house, I attempted to merge Miasma with my dark aura using beast breathing techniques. As I tried to control the energy, the two clashed violently. Black threads of aura erupted chaotically, and I coughed up blood.
Frantically, I drank one potion. The internal injuries healed instantly, but the experiment had failed. Clearly, I wasn't ready to fully merge them.
I remembered something my grandfather once said: some rare humans are born with dual affinities, but mastering them requires professional guidance and careful training. I hadn't approached this carefully enough.
Determined, I tried again. This time, I slowed my control, adjusting the flow of Miasma step by step instead of forcing it. Again, the attempt failed, and another potion went down my throat.
Exhausted, I munched on skewered meat I had bought for twenty copper coins. An idea struck me—maybe Miasma and dark aura interacted differently depending on how the body processed energy. Perhaps combining them at different points in the body would help. Knights store aura in the abdomen, while mages store mana in a circular pattern around the heart…
I sat on the floor, reading through the beast-skin absorption technique. This beast breathing method aggressively absorbs mana particles from the air to form a circle around the heart—a technique better suited for mages. Slowly and carefully, I manipulated the Miasma.
This time, it formed a stable circle around my heart. My pulse raced as the Miasma synchronized with my dark aura.
I reached for another potion. Both energies collided violently within my body. Blood coursed faster than I expected due to mana poisoning, but my poison immunity saved me from internal damage. Two full bottles later, my body survived the backlash.
For the first time, I felt it—control over both Miasma and dark aura. I didn't yet understand all the risks, but I had taken my first step toward survival in the north.