Azrael and Ryker returned to their room not long after their discussion, the night air of the academy calm and quiet as lanterns flickered softly along the paths. Once inside, Azrael wasted no time. He took a cold shower, letting the chill wash away the lingering mental fatigue that clung to him, and soon after, he collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Learning skills through memory crystals was far more taxing than most people realized. Unlike reading a book or listening to an instructor explain a technique, memory crystals forced the cultivator's mind to directly process vast amounts of information, sensations, and even emotions in a short span of time. The strain it placed on one's consciousness depended heavily on the level of the technique and its complexity. Powerful skills demanded not just elemental essence, but intense focus and mental endurance.
Not everyone could learn the techniques stored within memory crystals. Some techniques were simply too advanced, requiring a cultivator to reach a certain cultivation stage before they could even begin to comprehend them. Others placed heavy emphasis on talent and comprehension ability—without sufficient comprehension, the information would remain fragmented, impossible to piece together no matter how long one studied it.
Azrael knew this all too well.
There was a particular darkness-element skill he had been trying to learn—an offensive technique, and a terrifyingly lethal one at that. Compared to Shadow Walk, it was far more demanding. In fact, he had started attempting to comprehend that skill even before Shadow Walk. Yet despite weeks of effort, he had failed to achieve even minor success in the skill.
There were moments—brief, fleeting moments—when it felt as though he was about to comprehend the skill. As if one final realization would cause everything to fall into place. But every time, he would hit an invisible wall, a bottleneck he couldn't push past, no matter how hard he tried. It was as though he was missing something fundamental.
In the end, Azrael had chosen to set the technique aside and focus on Shadow Walk instead. That decision alone was proof that not all techniques were created equal—some demanded far more than raw effort. They demanded insight.
—-----
The next morning…
Soft sunlight filtered into the room through the narrow window, illuminating dust motes that drifted lazily in the air. Azrael lay sprawled across his bed, breathing evenly, still deeply asleep.
The door creaked open.
Ryker stepped inside, closing it behind him with deliberate care. He glanced at Azrael, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
"Hey," Ryker said, raising his voice just enough to be heard. "Azrael. Wake up."
No response.
Ryker tilted his head. "Do you plan on sleeping all day?"
Azrael shifted slightly, letting out an incoherent grumble before rolling onto his side. He pulled the blanket up over his head, clearly uninterested in the world beyond his bed.
Ryker clicked his tongue. "Unbelievable."
He walked over and stopped beside the bed, studying Azrael for a moment before reaching down and tugging the blanket away. When that didn't work, he grabbed the pillow too.
"Hey—" Azrael muttered, half-asleep.
Ryker didn't stop there. He seized Azrael by the shoulders and shook him—not violently, but persistently—until Azrael's eyes snapped open.
"Alright, alright!" Azrael groaned. "I'm awake."
"Good," Ryker said brightly. "It's already 8am. Go freshen up—we've got a suicide mission to prepare for."
Azrael stared at him for a second before rolling his eyes. "If anything happens to me," he said flatly, "I'm holding you responsible."
Ryker burst out laughing. "Fair enough. I'll take full responsibility." He leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. "And if nothing bad happens and everything goes smoothly—you'll call me boss and listen to everything I say for a whole month. Deal?"
Azrael scoffed. "As if."
Despite his complaints, Azrael swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He took another cold shower, the icy water clearing the remaining fog from his mind. Even as he mentally listed every reason why this plan was reckless, he couldn't deny the faint sense of anticipation stirring within him.
This would be his first real venture beyond the safety of the academy.
When he finished bathing, he dressed quickly and made his way to the mission hall, where Ryker was already waiting.
The mission hall was bustling with activity when Azrael arrived. Students moved in and out, some discussing potential missions, others reporting completed ones. The air buzzed with excitement and ambition.
Ryker stood near the left side of the hall, the section designated for students of the Arcane Plane. There was no dedicated section for Adept-stage cultivators, but whenever missions suitable for them appeared, they were posted within the Arcane section.
Ryker noticed Azrael immediately. "I thought you went back to sleep," he said with a grin. "I was already planning how to zap you awake."
Azrael ignored him and turned his attention to the mission board.
Fourteen missions were listed—most of them marked for cultivators in the early stages of the Arcane Plane. Escort duties, resource collection, patrols near unstable zones. Beneath them, written in blue, was a single mission designated for Adept-stage elementalists.
Azrael's gaze lingered there.
Seeing that Azrael had no intention of responding, Ryker stepped forward. "Senior," he said politely to the man behind the counter. "We'd like to take the mission for the Adept Plane."
The man glanced at them both, his eyes briefly assessing their auras before nodding. He retrieved a scroll and handed it to Ryker.
"The mission was posted two days ago," he said. "You're expected to complete it within a week and report back here once you're done."
He then slid a thick ledger across the counter. "Register your names."
Ryker quickly wrote both of their names, handing the book back once he was finished.
Without another word, the two of them turned and left the mission hall—one wearing a grin full of excitement, the other carrying equal parts caution and anticipation as they stepped closer to the unknown.