Tessara tightened her grip on her twin daggers, the leaf-shaped runes engraved along their edges softly glowing with a pale green light. The man before her radiated a suffocating murderous intent, so heavy it bent the air around him.
"I can't win. Not against him... I couldn't even see him move."
She swallowed hard, her eyes darting for an opening.
"I need to buy time. That's all I can do."
A blur—like a whisper of darkness trailing orange light—flashed before her.
"Planning to buy time?" the man said, his voice laced with disdain. "You think you're worth that much?"
He appeared before her in the blink of an eye, fist raised—aimed to end her life.
"Damn it—!"
Meanwhile, in the castle's underground safe room…
Icariel sat cross-legged on the floor, his breathing steady. His eyes were closed, his expression tense, and yet somehow serene. Behind him, Elif and Elena watched in silence. The two sat on the bed, not daring to speak, feeling the dense mana beginning to swirl faintly around the room.
The voice spoke in Icariel's mind, calm but firm.
"As you already know, humans who awaken as superhumans typically do so at age fourteen. That's when the body can best handle the transformation. People think they're 'chosen ones' like mages... but that's not quite true."
Icariel stayed focused, not flinching.
"They have a normal mana core, like any human. But when they awaken, their cores adapt. They can handle far more mana—enough to fuel superhuman abilities known as Skills. And the more battles they fight, the stronger they grow. The reason someone awakens depends on luck in most cases."
"Luck?" Icariel replied mentally.
"Yes. When someone is awakened, the reason it happens is that the mana going inside their mana core is disrupted somehow—it escapes the core and invades the muscles, blood, nerves. The heart. It reconstructs the body, strengthens it thanks to that distrubtion of mana, and that is what turns a normal human into a superhuman."
The voice paused for a moment.
"For older people, the same disruption can happen in some cases—but it no longer causes awakening. The body is too stable. Too rigid."
"But you, Icariel… you're different."
"Like you know, you don't have a mana core anymore."
He nodded slightly. "I understand," he replied. "What do I have to do?"
"You already understand mana flow better than most. Your pure mana inside is rare. Focus it. Control it."
"In what way?"
"Gather all your pure mana. Form it into an arrow. Visualize it—not as an idea, but as something real. Like the arrows hunters in Mjull used. And then… pierce it through your heart. Let it flood into your blood. Your muscles. Your bones. Then recover mana through breathing. And repeat."
"What? If I do that—wouldn't my heart stop?!"
"No,"the voice answered."I promise. This is the only method left. Even if your age has passed the prime—this is your path to awakening."
Icariel nodded once.
"Alright. I'll try my best." His eyes closed.
A gentle blue light began to glow from his body—starting at his toes and rising up to his head.
His breath grew steady. Calm.
Inside, his mana surged.
He began to gather it—all of it—condensing it toward his heart. The image of an arrow came to his mind.
A hunter's arrow. The kind used in Mjull to hunt.
"Visualize it," the voice said. "Make it real."
Elif tilted her head, curious. She wasn't looking directly at his front—just observing his overall presence with her elven-enhanced vision.
"What is he doing?" she wondered. "His entire body's mana... it's condensing into one place. Is he forming a circle?"
Inside Icariel's body, the mana surged like a tidal wave. A long, crystalline arrow formed from the light—a perfect arrow of condensed pure mana.
"Shoot it now," the voice ordered."Pierce your heart with it."
"Damn it..." Icariel muttered. "I'm really about to pierce my own heart."
Then, gritting his teeth, Icariel visualized the arrow launching forward.
BAM!
It struck his heart.
Pain. Unimaginable pain.
His body convulsed slightly, veins across his face and arms lighting up in blinding blue. But then—his heart, blood, and muscles began to glow with that same light.
"Do it again. Your mana has replenished from your breathing. Use it. Pierce it again."
He obeyed.
BAM. Another arrow.
Then another.
And another.
Each time, the pain worsened—but his body grew brighter, stronger. His heart was no longer red, but pulsing with vibrant blue light.
Blood began to stream from his nose. But he didn't notice—not Elena, not Elif. His back was to them. His eyes were closed.
"Again," the voice said. "Each arrow reshapes your body. The more you endure, the stronger your foundation will be."
BAM.
Again.
BAM.
Again.
Five more times, he drove the mana into his heart—each arrow purer than the last.
His breathing grew erratic.
"I... I can't anymore," Icariel whispered mentally in pain. "I've reached my limit... the pain's too much..."
"Do it one more time." The voice said.
"I can't..."
"Come on—don't you want to survive? Don't you crave freedom? To live, to keep breathing, to see another sunrise? Then move. Just do it. One. More. Time." The voice thundered through him like war drums, shaking loose every last excuse.
"Break through your limits now, and the future will come easier. Endure today for a stronger tomorrow."
Icariel's eyes clenched shut—his face contorted in pain.
BAM!
One last arrow.
"I... I did it..." he muttered.
"Good. Then do it again."
"If you could go beyond once—you can go again."
"Remember what you're gaining. You don't want to be at the mercy of this cursed world anymore. You want control."
"But I..."
From behind him, Elif suddenly noticed something.
"Icariel?" she whispered.
A bright blue light was now emanating from his body.
Elena turned too, her eyes narrowing.
The voice roared again inside his mind. "You don't want to place your life in someone else's hands anymore, do you, Icariel?!"
Blood leaked more violently from his nose—dripping onto his clothes, staining his legs.
"THAT'S RIGHT!" Icariel screamed, his voice exploding through the white basement room.
Elif and Elena jumped, stunned.
"THEN PIERCE YOUR HEART ONCE AGAIN!!"
And he did.
One last arrow.
The purest one yet.
Pierced straight into the core of his being.
His entire body erupted in blue light—his veins, his skin, even his eyes.
His entire self had become mana.
"I can't anymore…" he muttered weakly, his body collapsing to the floor.
Eyes closed. Body glowing faintly.
"Once again, you've impressed me," the voice murmured into his thoughts. "Good job, Icariel."
Elena and Elif rushed toward him in panic.
But before they could reach him, a different light—golden—erupted from Icariel's body.
Not blue. Golden.
It enveloped him like a cocoon, bathing the room in warm, divine radiance.
The golden light that had surrounded Icariel's unconscious body burst forth with quiet intensity, its radiance so powerful that it slipped through the cracks of the hidden basement and spread outward—rising like a beacon into the sky above the castle.
For one second—just a breath of time—the entire castle was bathed in golden brilliance.
And it was enough.
Outside, on the castle grounds, two figures were locked in a violent clash—spear against dagger. The flash of gold swept over them, illuminating their tense battle in a heavenly light.
Eldrin blinked, stepping back instinctively. "What was that...?"
He glanced up, sweat rolling down his brow as the light faded just as quickly as it came.
Ginis, her red and yellow eyes glowing with twisted amusement, chuckled from behind her black scarf. "Worried about others when you can't even protect yourself?" she mocked.
She vanished in a blur of motion—reappearing behind him.
Clang! Eldrin barely twisted in time, raising his spear, but her dagger still kissed his cheek with a shallow cut.
"Tch," he hissed, blood trickling down his face. "You're really getting on my nerves."
"Am I?" she purred, licking the blade of her dagger slowly. "You say that... but your eyes are still following that golden light coming from the castle."
The golden light reached the skies—thin, distant, but unmistakable.
Aelar, engaged in a brutal duel with the godless abyss invader with brown eyes, paused mid-step, his blade nearly severing the invader's shoulder. His sharp green eyes narrowed toward the light.
"…Icariel?"
Meanwhile, in the palace garden, Princess Virethiel stood surrounded by the twitching corpses of Crogs, her arms dripping red blood. Her breathing slowed as she, too, raised her gaze.
The golden light flickered just for a moment at her vision too.
Virethiel's expression hardened.
"…What is happening there at the castle?"
Back in the basement...
The golden light faded gently like mist at dawn, revealing Icariel's transformed body lying motionless on the cold stone floor.
Elif and Elena stood frozen in awe.
The boy's body had changed— it awakened. His skin now glowed with subtle vitality. His frame had filled out even more, lean muscle sculpted perfectly by the surge of mana. The blue veins that once flickered across his skin had vanished, replaced by an aura of pure balance.
His breathing was shallow. Peaceful. But he was still unconscious.
"What… just happened?" Elena whispered, wide-eyed.
"That light…" she added, stepping closer. "It was just like a superhuman awakening—but different. More refined. More… complete."
"What is this boy?"
"Icariel…" Elena knelt beside him, checking his pulse. Relief washed over her face. "He's alive."
"Elif, bring some water. Now."
Elif nodded quickly, rushing to the far corner to grab the water jug.
Then—thud… thud… thud…
Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairwell leading to the basement.
Elena's hand froze mid-motion. Her ears perked up. Her eyes sharpened.
Someone was coming.
Her gaze darted toward the door, heart beginning to race.
"Who's coming down here…?" she whispered.
Elif turned, jug in hand, her face pale.
"I hope it's not an enemy..."