1 more chapter until we catch up to the other sites

  "Rage is a form of advanced ki manipution," a man said. He sat near a cliff's edge, a fishing rod in his hand. The hook dangled on a long line over the ke, illuminated only by the moonlight. "And the first step of maniputing said ki is to use it all—to make it like a second sense."

  The man felt a tug. With a single, fluid pull, a fish flew from the water, but it was so small that he simply tossed it back. As he reached for new bait, he continued, "Tell me, how long have you been here?"

  "I don't know, Master," another voice replied.

  It was Asta. He was banced upside down, his weight resting entirely on a single finger atop a sharp rock spike. Blue energy hummed, keeping him upright. He was topless, sweat pouring off his muscled frame, while the ground beneath the spike smoldered with bck fmes.

  "Three years," the man replied, his focus returning to the ke. "Three years and you only have a basic understanding of ki. It seems you relied on the System more than I expected."

  "How so, Master?" Asta grunted as the fmes suddenly intensified.

  "I expected it to take a year to master rage. You have great physical training, but after three years, you still can't muster even a tiny spark of that ki."

  "I'm very sorry, Master."

  "It's no problem," the man said. "I've handled worse students."

  The man set his rod against a jagged rock with a rhythmic cck. He stood, his silhouette tall against the moon, and approached the boy who was trembling with the effort of his concentration.

  "Tell me," the man began, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly hum. "Where do you think ki accumutes?"

  "In the dantian... Master," Asta managed to choke out. His jaw was cmped so tight his teeth gritted together.

  "Good. You have been listening."

  The man reached out, his hand steady and calloused. He pressed a palm against Asta's sweat-slicked abdomen, his touch moving with clinical precision toward the navel. "Now tell me," he prompted, his eyes reflecting the flickering shadows. "How do you perform ki detection?"

  "By spreading my own ki... into the air... Master," Asta grunted.

  As the words left his lips, the bck fmes beneath his finger surged, the heat distorting the air around them until the starlight itself seemed to bend.

  "Good," the man murmured. He began to walk in slow, deliberate circles around the boy, his footsteps silent on the uneven stone. "Now, tell me... what do you think that fme is actually doing?"

  "It... it..." Asta stammered. The bck fmes surged violently now, licking at the air and casting long, dancing shadows against the cliffside. The heat was becoming suffocating, turning the sweat on Asta's skin to stinging steam.

  The Master stopped directly behind him, his presence heavy and cold against the searing heat of the fire. "You have been enduring this training for a full year," he said, his voice dropping to a sharp, disappointed edge. "Do you mean to tell me you still haven't felt its true nature?"

  "I... I don't know, Master," Asta grunted, his single finger trembling as the rock spike beneath him began to crack under the pressure.

  "Why are my students always so thick-headed, yet so impossibly stubborn?" The Master's sigh didn't just carry disappointment; it carried the weight of centuries. He picked up a dry branch and began scratching a diagram into the dirt directly beneath Asta's trembling face.

  He drew a simple stick figure, then jagged, aggressive lines radiating outward like a crown of thorns. "These fmes react to ki," he expined, the stick snapping as he pressed into the earth. "The more you spread your energy out, the hungrier the fire becomes. It feeds on the leak."

  Asta's eyes bulged, the bck fmes licking at his ears.

  "True ki manipution is the exact opposite of detection," the man continued, circling the stick figure with a single, tight line that touched the skin. "You must pull it all back. Compress the ki until it coats your body so thinly it forms a second skin—a barrier of pure intent."

  "Like... a Ki Shield?" Asta grunted, a drop of sweat falling into the bck fire and hissing like a snake.

  "Yes. I know the System gave you a 'skill' for that, but here, there is no hand-holding. You must master the feeling of it yourself." The man tossed the stick into the ke, his voice turning cold as stone. "You will not move from that spot until those fmes vanish."

  "Master..." Asta breathed, his muscles twitching with fatigue.

  "If you are worried about your wife, don't be," the man added, walking back toward his fishing spot. "Time here moves differently. By the time you complete this Css Change, not even a single second will have ticked by in your world. You have all the time you need to fail... and try again."

  Days bled into nights, and the moon chased the sun in a blurring cycle, yet the bck fmes continued to roar.

  The situation remained a grueling stalemate. On some days, the fire would flicker and shrink to a low simmer, nearly conquered; on others, a stray thought would ignite Asta's temper, and the fmes would rage high enough to singe the very air. Through it all, Asta remained inverted, his body a pilr of iron. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to colpse, his muscles twitching with a fatigue that felt like needles under his skin.

  He began to suspect the Master was subtly pumping ki into his exhausted frame—a silent lifeline that kept his heart beating but offered no relief from the agony.

  In the dead silence of the night, the pain finally started to break him. To keep from snapping, Asta retreated into his head. He saw Yuno's calm smirk—his rival and his best friend. He felt the sun on the fields back in Hage and heard the loud, messy ughter of the orphans.

  Then he thought of his wife. She was somewhere in this pce doing her own trial, and he knew he couldn't show up having failed his. He forced himself back to the basics of what the old man said.

  If ki manipution is the opposite of sensing, I just need to pull it all in. Make it small. Wrap it around me.

  Asta shut his eyes, blocking out the flickering shadows. The st three years hadn't been a waste; even without the System's help, he could still "see" those blue lines of energy in his mind. With a massive effort, he grabbed hold of those threads and forced them to move. He lost track of time, focusing entirely on shrinking those lines until they sat tight against his skin, forming a thin yer of pressure.

  It took a long time to make those lines obey. By the time he felt them finally wrap tight around his body, a familiar voice cut through the silence.

  "Congratutions, young man. Though I guess 'young' isn't the right word anymore," his master said.

  Asta opened his eyes. The master was still sitting on the cliffside, but the bck fmes were gone. Only a small, pulsing blue orb remained on Asta's fingertip, keeping him banced and upright.

  "It took you ten years to master ki manipution," the master continued, standing up. "Come. Let's fast-track your training."

  "Yes, Master!" Asta smiled. He looked down at himself; his muscles had leaned out until he looked almost thin, but he felt more powerful than he ever had before.

  A door materialized out of thin air next to the master. Without a word, the older man opened it and stepped through, with Asta following close behind.

  As Asta stepped through the door, he felt his body shift. The thin, aged version of himself vanished, repced by the heavy muscle of his fifteen-year-old self. Despite the change, the ki was still there. He reached for it instinctively, pulling it tight around his frame like a second skin.

  "I told you time moves differently here," his master said. His bck and purple hair didn't even ruffle as he moved; he walked with a strange, unsettling precision.

  They stopped in their tracks as Asta spotted a massive bck portal pulsating like a heartbeat in the center of the forest. The Master let out a sharp, piercing whistle that echoed through the dead trees. Almost immediately, Asta felt a blur of motion—something moving at a speed that made his hair stand on end—but when it finally came into view, he blinked in confusion.

  It was a small, fluffy white bird with a bright red belly, drifting toward them with zy, casual fps of its wings.

  "I met this bird during my travels in [Redacted]. It's the smallest of three brothers," the Master expined, his gaze fixed on the tiny creature with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Now that you've mastered ki manipution, you need to understand Rage. It is a form of ki fueled by raw aggression, but the trick is the discipline. If you can harness the heat without being consumed by the fire, it provides a massive power boost."

  The Master pointed to the damp earth. "Sit there and maintain your ki. The bird will attack you. No matter what happens—under no circumstances—are you to strike back. If you do, you will die."

  Asta looked at the bird, which had tilted its head, watching them with a single, gssy bck eye. "How can that thing hurt me if I'm shielded by my ki?" he asked, his voice skeptical. "Isn't this a bit easy?"

  "That's what you said about the st exercise," the Master countered, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "And how long did that take you?"

  "Thirteen years," Asta muttered, his shoulders slumping.

  "Master 'Rage' in five years and I'll give you a bonus skill."

  "Really?!" Asta's face lit up, his eyes practically turning into shimmering stars.

  "However," the Master added, his voice dropping to a chilly whisper, "I'll give you a punishment if you die to this little guy too many times."

  "What's the bird's name, Master?"

  "Punishment Bird," the man replied. He gave a sharp, final wave and vanished into the thick shadows of the forest, leaving Asta alone with the silent, fluttering creature.

  Following his master's orders, Asta sat cross-legged near the pulsing bck portal. He focused, tightening the ki barrier around his body until it felt like a solid shell. The small bird drifted over, hovering casually by his ear. It tilted its head, watching him with a curious, vacant stare, and then it began to peck.

  "Ouch!" Asta yelled. The beak hit his shoulder like a red-hot needle driving through his skin.

  He gritted his teeth and pushed more energy to the surface, thickening his ki shield. It didn't matter. The beak pierced through as if his armor were made of paper. Every second was a sharp, stinging prick. It didn't draw blood, but the repetition was maddening.

  Hours crawled by. The only sound in the silent, red-sky forest was the rhythmic, relentless strike of the beak.

  Peck. Peck. Peck.

  It wasn't the pain that was breaking him anymore—it was the irritation. His skin felt like it was on fire, and his patience was fraying to a thread.

  "Can you stop for one second?!" Asta snapped.

  Losing his cool, he swung a hand to swat the creature away. In an instant, the bird's red belly split open, ballooning into a cavernous maw lined with rows of jagged, oversized teeth. The transition was so fast Asta didn't even have time to scream. The forest went bck as the creature's jaws snapped shut.

  Asta bolted upright, gasping for air. He was back next to the portal, his body trembling. The bird was there, too—fluttering in front of his face and looking at him with that same, innocent curiosity.

  Asta had lost track of time. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. Fatigue didn't exist in this realm—his body never grew tired—but the mental exhaustion was a different story. The constant, stinging pain was driving him toward a jagged edge of insanity.

  He looked down at the dirt between his knees. He had begun scratching marks into the soil to track his "failures." The first set of lines represented every time he had died. He counted fifty.

  Fifty times he had snapped. Fifty times he had reached out to swat the creature, only to be swallowed whole and spat back out at the portal.

  He gritted his teeth as the beak drove into his shoulder again. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to strike back, to defend himself, to end the annoyance. But he knew now that the bird wasn't just pecking his skin—it was pecking at his self-control.

  "Can you please just stop for one minute!" Asta roared.

  His hand moved—a reflex he couldn't suppress. In a heartbeat, the world turned into teeth and darkness, and then he was back on the ground, staring at the dirt. He didn't even try to stand at first; he just id there and screamed into the soil until his throat felt raw.

  Finally, he pushed himself up. The bird didn't wait. It fluttered down and resumed its work. Peck. Peck. Peck.

  "What was this training for again?" Asta hissed through clenched teeth, his voice shaking with the effort not to sh out. "Mastering rage... turning it into power, right?"

  He closed his eyes, his vision swimming with bloodshot streaks. A dark, hot pressure was building in his chest, making his skin itch and his ki ripple like a stormy sea.

  "Well," Asta growled, his aura flickering a dangerous, jagged purple. "I'm feeling rageful, alright. I've got plenty of that."

  Asta tried to reach out and sense the ki in the air, but every time he neared a trance, the bird's beak drove into his neck like a needle. He was so close; he could almost feel the flow of his own energy, but a well-timed peck shattered his concentration like gss.

  His arm flinched. He didn't even mean to do it, but his body reacted on its own.

  Darkness. Teeth. Death.

  Asta smmed back onto the ground. He didn't even bother standing up this time; he just stayed face-down in the dirt and screamed until his lungs burned. The frustration was a physical weight, a hot, oily pressure in his chest that felt like it wanted to burst.

  He sat up, his movements robotic and stiff. The bird was already there, hovering, waiting.

  Peck.

  He closed his eyes and tried again. He wouldn't let the bird win. He wouldn't be the "dumb student" his master compined about.

  Asta tried to sink back into his ki, but the bird was onto him. Every time he got close to a breakthrough, the peck became a violent, bone-deep jab. It was as if the creature could smell his intent and was actively sabotaging his focus.

  After a dozen more deaths, Asta finally managed to push through the white-hot noise of the pain. To his shock, his inner vision didn't show the calm blue lines from before. Instead, his ki was a seething, jagged red. It looked like liquid fire, pulsing in time with the throbbing of his veins.

  That's it, he realized. The rage is the fuel.

  He tried to command the red energy, to force it into the "skin" barrier he had learned before. But the red ki was wild and unstable. Just as he felt it begin to move, the bird delivered a perfectly timed strike to a sensitive nerve in his neck.

  His hand flew up in a blind, instinctive twitch.

  Snap.

  The forest disappeared behind a wall of teeth once again. Asta hit the dirt by the portal, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He didn't scream this time. He just stared at his hands, his eyes still seeing the ghost of that red energy.

  Time had lost all meaning. The tally marks had outgrown the dirt and were now carved deep into the bark of the surrounding trees—jagged scars recording hundreds of deaths. The only sound in the forest was a rhythmic, violent duet: the thud of a fist meeting wood and the sharp click of a beak hitting skin.

  Asta stood in a deep horse stance, his legs trembling but locked like iron. He was topless again, his skin flushed a bright, angry red. Thick trails of steam rose from his shoulders, With every punch, the tree shuddered to its roots, a small, splintered crater forming where his knuckles made contact.

  All the while, the bird perched on his shoulder, pecking his back with a mechanical, tireless cruelty.

  "Can you please—" Asta started to growl.

  His hand twitched toward the bird—just a fraction of an inch—and the world vanished.

  He smmed back onto the ground by the portal. He let out one short, jagged scream into the air, then forced himself to go silent. He took a long, shaky breath, memorizing the exact sensation of the red ki as it had fred before he died. Without a word, he stood up, walked back to the splintered tree, and dropped back into his stance.

  Asta eventually found a secluded waterfall deep within the red-sky forest. He sat beneath the crushing weight of the falls, the water thundering against his shoulders. Even here, the bird was a relentless shadow, its beak piercing through the curtain of water to strike his skin with mechanical precision.

  To the bird, the heavy torrent was nothing.

  Asta closed his eyes. The roar of the falls drowned out the forest, and the cold water began to numb his fraying nerves. In that freezing crity, his inner vision sharpened. The red ki was there—no longer a chaotic explosion, but a deep, simmering heat. He realized his mistake: he had been trying to cage it, to force it into a static shield like his blue ki.

  Rage can't be contained, he thought, recalling his master's voice through the fog of memory. It can only be disciplined. It's a part of me. I shouldn't move it; I should let it flow through me as I move.

  A peaceful smile broke across his face. He felt it—the red energy finally beginning to circute, warming his blood against the mountain water. He felt enlightened. Confident. He began to stand up, his movements fluid and natural.

  But in his moment of triumph, he forgot his surroundings. As he rose, his hand brushed against the fluttering bird.

  Snap.

  The darkness swallowed him instantly. Asta woke up back at the portal, the red-bellied bird watching him with its hollow, bck eyes. He had found the secret.

  More time bled away, but the forest was no longer silent. The rhythmic thud of training had been repced by a sound like crackling thunder. Asta stood before a massive, ancient tree, his body wreathed in violent arcs of red lightning. Every time his fist connected, the air itself seemed to shatter, the force of his strikes splintering the wood until the entire trunk finally gave way under the pressure.

  "I finally... mastered—" Asta panted.

  Peck. Peck.

  "...Rage—"

  Peck. Peck.

  "Can you please just—"

  "I see you completed it much faster than I imagined, my student."

  Asta froze, the red sparks still dancing across his skin. He turned to see his Master standing nearby, watching with a rare look of approval.

  "Master!" Asta started, but the bird gave him one st sharp jab to the shoulder. Peck.

  "That's enough, little bird," the Master said calmly. He reached into his cloak and produced a small, ornate square box. The Punishment Bird's eyes seemed to gleam as it gripped the box in its tiny cws. With a flutter of wings and what almost looked like a smug smile, the creature took off into the red sky.

  The Master turned back to Asta, whose body was still humming with that jagged, crimson electricity. "Congratutions are in order. You've finally learned to harness Rage Ki without letting it consume your mind."

  "Thanks, Master!" Asta beamed, the red lightning flickering one st time before he pulled it back into his core.

  "Two years and two hundred deaths," the Master mused, tapping his chin as he watched the red lightning finally fade from Asta's skin. "Now, that is a record."

  Asta perked up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "As the fastest student you've ever had?"

  "No," the Master deadpanned. "The most deaths."

  Asta's shoulders slumped, his face turning a comical shade of blue. "Are you... are you going to punish me, Master?"

  "Nothing of the sort. You survived, didn't you?" The Master turned toward the dark horizon of the forest. "Let's get you moving. It's time for your final test."

  "What is it?" Asta asked, his excitement returning instantly. After thirteen years of ki manipution and two years of being eaten by a bird, he was ready for anything.

  "I just need you to learn one thing," the Master said, gncing back over his shoulder. "A simple attack."

  "Are you ready?"

  "Yes, Master!" Asta shouted, his fist clenched and his spirit burning.

  Another door materialized out of the red mist, pulsing with a heavy, ancient energy. The Master pulled it open, and without a second thought, Asta followed him into their next destination.

  When Asta opened his eyes, the red forest was gone. They were standing on a massive stone bridge that arched over a roaring, violent river. Behind them, a gargantuan stone castle loomed against the sky like a sleeping giant.

  Asta blinked, noticing his Master had changed too. Along with his massive Zweihander, a long, wicked-looking purple spear was now strapped to his back, humming with a dark energy.

  "I'm going to teach you a fundamental skill of the gdiators," the Master said, his voice echoing over the sound of the rushing water. "It's called—[Redacted]. Hmm. It seems the System is still censoring my world's true names. Let's call it Skill Switching instead."

  Asta tilted his head. "Skill Switching?"

  "Exactly. It's the art of using a precise burst of ki to chain different abilities together, or to instantly end an active one—what the system calls Skill Cancelling. In short: as long as your ki holds out, you can use your skills an infinite number of times without pause."

  "Cool!" Asta shouted, his eyes wide. The tactical possibilities were already racing through his head.

  The Master let out a genuine ugh, the sound surprisingly warm. "Your soul has aged decades in this pce, yet you're still as excitable as a child. I like that. Don't ever lose that heart, Asta."

  "Watch my ki, not my movements," the Master warned, his voice low and focused. "It's impossible for you to copy the techniques themselves, but you can learn the rhythm."

  The Master dropped into a low stance, the Zweihander resting easily in his grip. Then, the air exploded.

  He started with a massive, horizontal cleave—but halfway through the arc, the weight of the sword seemed to vanish. In its pce, a purple blur hissed forward as he thrust the spear. Before the spear even fully extended, he canceled the momentum into a violent upward ssh with the heavy bde, followed immediately by a downward smash that shattered the stone bridge beneath his feet.

  He didn't stop. He thrusted the spear again, and for a split second, a shimmering afterimage of the Master appeared, thrusting alongside him as if two people were attacking at once. Then, he was back to the sword, delivering a thrust so fast it broke the sound barrier with a deafening crack, ending the sequence with a final, brutal skyward pierce with the spear.

  The Master stood still, the wind from his wake finally catching up and whipping his purple hair around his face.

  "Now," he said, looking at Asta's stunned expression. "Tell me. How many skills did I just use?"

  Asta stood there, completely fbbergasted. His eyes were wide, and his jaw had practically hit the bridge. He hadn't seen a sequence of attacks—he had seen a blurred storm of steel and purple light that had shredded the air itself.

  "We're going to be here for a long time," the Master smiled, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and challenge. "Tell me, how many weapon skills do you have at the moment?"

  "Only Pierce, Master," Asta admitted sheepishly, gripping his hands as if he could already feel the phantom weight of a weapon.

  "Hmm." The Master hummed, pacing the cracked stone of the bridge. "Then let me teach you a single skill so you can actually have something to chain. It's a basic foundation."

  "Really?!"

  "Sure." The Master gripped his Zweihander. In one fluid motion, he executed a violent upward ssh, transitioned into a spinning circur swing, and finished by smming the massive bde into the ground with enough force to make the bridge groan. "It's called Iron Crusher. It's a skill I learned back when I was nine years old."

  "Thanks, Master!" Asta shouted, his spirit reignited.

  "Now, repeat my movements!" With a flick of his wrist, the Master summoned a massive wooden training sword and a heavy wooden spear. He tossed them through the air toward Asta. "You will not leave this bridge until you have mastered the form of both—and the chain between them!"

  "I'll do it, Master!" Asta roared, catching the heavy wooden weapons with a grin that said he was ready for another decade of training if that's what it took.

  Time on the bridge had been a blur of splintered wood and rushing water. Asta, shirtless once again with sweat pouring down his frame, moved like a tempest. He executed a heavy swing with the wooden sword, and just as the momentum peaked, a shimmering afterimage flickered behind him. In a heartbeat, the spear in his other hand hissed through the air in a double-thrust.

  He didn't pause. Before the spear could even retract, another afterimage appeared, and Asta smmed his sword into the stone with a deafening roar. Red lightning arced across his muscles, grounding the massive energy he had harnessed.

  "Why are you shirtless again?" Sieghart asked, not even looking up from his fishing rod as he sat on the edge of the bridge. "I suppose it doesn't matter. You've grasped the concept of Skill Switching. Now, all you need is a tool to swap weapons instantly or enough experience to make the transition seamless. Your training here is done."

  "Really?!" Asta stopped mid-motion, the red sparks fading into his skin.

  "Yes. You've passed, Asta. You aren't just a student anymore."

  Sieghart beckoned him over. As Asta approached, his master flicked a small, shiny object through the air. Asta caught it. It was a silver pin, intricately carved with three intersecting weapons: a spear, a sword, and a massive Zweihander.

  "What is this?" Asta asked, the pin gleaming under the strange light of the bridge.

  "The Emblem of the Gdiator," Sieghart replied. "Take it. You are a free man now."

  "Thank you so much, Master!"

  "No," the man said, a small, proud smile touching his lips. "Call me by my name now. You've graduated."

  "Sir Ercnard Sieghart! Thank you!"

  Sieghart chuckled, turning back to the water. "If you ever want more skills, remember—I'll need tokens. No freebies in the real world."

  "But Sir, I'm still in the red!" Asta shouted, scratching the back of his head.

  "Well, I suppose this is the st time we'll meet anyway," Sieghart ughed. A final door materialized next to Asta, featuring a small, suspiciously shaped slot in the center.

  "Thanks for everything, Master!" Asta beamed. He pressed the gdiator pin into the slot. The door groaned and began to swing open, revealing a blinding white light. Asta took one deep breath, bowed low to the man who had spent decades training him, and yelled "god I miss my wife!" before stepping through.

  Behind him, Sieghart simply waved a hand as his fishing line snapped taut. "Good luck, kid. Try not to die on the first day back."

  Noelle's life in this unchanging forest was a cycle of repetitive rituals. Since the day she arrived, her mornings involved being submerged in the spirit ke, her noon's were spent buried in the dirt, and her nights were a barrage of magic while she tried to sleep—all of it done completely naked.

  She tried arguing with her master, Arme, but was simply tossed into the air and smmed back into the ke for her efforts. She had been stripped of her clothes for so long that she nearly forgot to dress herself one night. Still, she couldn't compin too much; her control over mana was vastly superior to when she was younger, and even better when she held her crossbow. When she woke the next morning, she approached her masters' table to find one seated with a cup of tea while the other was busy stretching.

  "Master Arme, why is Master Rena stretching?" Noelle asked, confused. She watched as her elven master leaped into the air, sprinted toward the ke, and—instead of sinking—began running ps across the surface of the water.

  "I think it's time for your other master to take a shot," Arme replied.

  "But Master Arme—" Noelle started, before subconsciously swatting at the air. She looked at the ground next to her; a small hole had been scorched into the grass.

  "You can see the flow of mana now. That is enough for my part of your training," Arme said, casually sipping her tea. "You will only receive my lessons again if I spot any fws."

  As soon as Noelle nodded, she felt a surge of magic. She tried to cancel it with her own mana, but the spell was too strong. Before she knew it, she was once again exposed once again.

  "You did this on purpose!" she cried.

  "Nope," Arme smirked. "You will need all your senses for her training, young Noelle."

  Noelle tried to steady her breathing, though the crisp morning breeze felt like needles against her bare skin. She watched as Master Rena nded beside her with a grace that seemed almost insulting. The elf was tall and rge, rge enough that her chest was casting a long shadow over Noelle. Despite the intensity of the moment, Rena wore a serene, almost motherly smile that didn't match the predatory look in her eyes.

  "Yes, Master?" Noelle managed to squeak out, her knees trembling slightly.

  Rena's smile widened, her eyes narrowing as she centered her weight. "Dodge."

  "What do—" The question was cut short by the wet thud of a shin connecting with Noelle's midsection.

  The air left Noelle's lungs in a pained wheeze as she tumbled backward. Before she could even find the sky, a second blur of movement caught her across the jaw. She was sent hurtling through the air, her back smming into a massive oak tree with a crack that echoed through the clearing. Gritting her teeth, Noelle fred her mana, creating a shimmering translucent barrier just as Rena's heel descended like a falling hammer.

  Noelle threw herself to the right, the bark of the tree exploding into splinters where her head had been a second before.

  "Are you trying to kill me?!" Noelle screamed, her voice cracking with desperation as she scrambled to her feet.

  Across the clearing, Arme didn't even look up from her porcein cup. "That's the point," she remarked tonelessly, blowing a gentle puff of steam off the surface of her tea. "The next stage of your training is pure evasion. If you don't use your mana to its absolute limit, you won't just be bruised—you'll be buried."

  Noelle didn't have time to argue. She felt the dispced air behind her first. Rena had reappeared, her movement so fluid it was as if she had stepped through a shadow. Another strike folded Noelle in half, unching her upward.

  High above the treeline, Noelle saw Rena's silhouette blot out the sun. With a devastating downward strike to her spine, Noelle was sent screaming back toward the earth, hitting the dirt with a violent crash that sent a wall of dust billowing into the trees.

  The sun began to dip below the horizon, bleeding deep oranges and purples across the sky. Noelle y broken in the dirt, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. Every inch of her skin was a map of blossoming purple bruises. She was thankful, in a detached way, that she was a soul; she knew that if she still possessed a physical stomach, she would have lost its contents hours ago.

  Rena stood over her, silhouetted against the fading light. She didn't look tired; if anything, she looked refreshed. The tall elf stretched her arms toward the sky, her muscles rippling with easy strength, while a cluster of small, glowing green elemental spirits began to dance around her like curious fireflies.

  "That's enough for one day, Noelle," Arme announced. She rose from her chair with the effortless poise of someone who had spent the afternoon at a garden party rather than a battlefield.

  Rena stepped to Arme's side, her smile never wavering as she looked down at her battered student. With a casual, rhythmic snap of Arme's fingers, the clearing suddenly groaned. Noelle watched in a daze as the splintered trees pulled themselves upright, the jagged holes in the earth smoothed over, and the dust settled as if the violence of the day had been nothing but a bad dream.

  "Have a good night's rest," Arme added, her voice cool and final. With one more sharp click of her fingers, the two women vanished into thin air, leaving nothing behind but the faint scent of tea and forest rain.

  Noelle remained in the dirt, staring up at the darkening sky. She let out a long, pained groan that vibrated in her chest, slowly closing her eyes to begin the grueling process of circuting her mana through her aching limbs.

  Noelle didn't even bother reaching for her clothes. The effort of lifting her arms felt like pulling lead weights, so she simply let her bare feet drag through the soft moss as she limped toward the small clearing she called home. It wasn't much—just a simple bed she had fashioned from woven grass and mana on her very first night—but to her aching body, it looked like a pace.

  She colpsed onto the makeshift mattress, the cool night air prickling her skin. Closing her eyes, she began the rhythmic, painful process of circuting her mana to knit her bruised muscles back together. Above her, the moon hung like a heavy silver coin, and small, flickering spirits of bck and white drifted from the shadows to py silently near the treeline.

  For a moment, the world was still.

  Then, the air hissed.

  A sudden spike of predatory magic caused the hair on Noelle's neck to stand up. She scrambled to sit, her heart hammering against her ribs just as a searing beam of light whistled past her face, scorching the tip of her nose.

  "Master!" Noelle shrieked, her voice cracking in the quiet night.

  Before the echoes could fade, Rena materialized out of the darkness like a vengeful ghost. With a terrifying smile, the elf brought her heel down in a crushing blow. The woven bed—Noelle's only comfort—didn't just break; the ground beneath it exploded, sending dirt and dried grass flying into the air.

  Noelle threw herself backward, her eyes wide with terror as she stared at the crater where her head had been a second ago. But when the dust settled, the clearing was empty. Rena had vanished into the shadows as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Noelle shivering and alone in the wreckage of her home.

  To her masters, this was a game—a casual exercise to pass the long forest hours. To Noelle, it was a living nightmare. She stood in the center of the wreckage, her naked skin shivering as the adrenaline began to fade. She was trapped in a state of constant, agonizing tension.

  She couldn't time their strikes; there was no rhythm, no warning. Every time she tried to gather her mana, to weave it into a shield or a burst of speed, a stinging bolt of light would sear her flesh, or Rena would simply materialize out of the shadows like a physical manifestation of a storm, burying a fist into her stomach and folding her double.

  Noelle gasped for air, her vision swimming with dark spots. The silence of the forest felt heavier than the blows themselves.

  "Feel the intent of the mana, Noelle," Arme's voice drifted through the trees, sounding impossibly calm and distant, as if she were commenting on the weather. "You won't st much longer at this rate. If you wait until you see us, you're already dead."

  The voice didn't come from any one direction; it seemed to vibrate out of the very air around her. Then, as quickly as the critique had come, the forest went deathly silent once more. Noelle stood alone in the dark, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, waiting for the next shimmer of light that would signal her pain.

  For the past few days, Noelle had thought she was making progress. She could sense the intent in the air when the mana moved sluggishly, like a slow-moving ripple in a pond. But this? This was different. This was faster than her siblings' magic combined—a jagged, blinding lightning strike that left her senses reeling.

  Before she could even form a thought, a focused burst of energy caught her square in the jaw.

  Noelle colpsed into the dirt, her head ringing as she let out a low, pained moan. Her cheek felt like it was on fire, and the metallic taste of blood touched her tongue.

  "You're doing it wrong," Arme's voice drifted through the clearing, cool and analytical. Noelle couldn't see her, but she could feel the weight of her master's gaze. "Your mana is too stretched, Noelle. You're trying to cover everything at once, and in doing so, you're protecting nothing."

  Noelle gripped the grass, her knuckles white. She was naked, bruised, and exhausted, but the frustration was starting to burn hotter than the pain.

  "Focus it," Arme continued her voice closer now, though still invisible. "If you keep thinning your power out like a mist, Rena will keep cutting through you like a bde."

  Hours of relentless assault bled into the night until, finally, the barrage ceased. With a sharp, echoing snap of Arme's fingers, the forest took a collective breath. The splintered trees knitted themselves whole, the craters in the dirt smoothed over, and even Noelle's makeshift bed was restored as if it had never been touched.

  Noelle didn't have the strength to celebrate. She simply slumped onto the grass and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep, her bruised and exposed body finally at rest in the moonlight.

  Days blurred into weeks as the grueling routine became her entire world. The cycle was unwavering: the ke, the dirt, the bombardment, and the midnight hunts. But beneath the exhaustion, something in Noelle was changing.

  The constant barrage had forced her to stop "stretching" her mana thin. Instead, she learned to pull it tight around her, projecting a dense field just a few meters in front of her body. It acted like magical sonar; the moment a spell or a strike entered that zone, she felt the ripple of intent.

  As the weeks bled into one another, the trial and error finally bore fruit. Even in the depths of exhaustion, Noelle's body began to move on its own. While she y in a deep sleep, her mana sonar flickered; as a small bolt of light magic zipped toward her arm, she rolled instinctively, the spell whistling harmlessly into the dirt. Another bolt followed, then another, and each time, Noelle's body danced away from the danger without her even opening her eyes.

  "Good," Arme's voice cut through the darkness.

  With a sharp snap of her fingers, the world blurred. Noelle suddenly found herself standing upright beside the familiar table, where Arme sat calmly sipping her tea as if she had never left.

  "You've managed to create a localized field," Arme noted, her eyes tracing the faint shimmer of mana around Noelle. "That's a start. Of course, you'll need years of more training to enrge that field to a useful size, but the foundation is there."

  "Thank you, Master," Noelle panted, her voice thick with relief.

  "Now, let's get to your next phase of training tomorrow morning," Arme said, a small, mysterious smile pying on her lips.

  With a final snap of her fingers, the cold night air was suddenly blocked out. Noelle gasped as her white dress materialized around her, the fabric soft and clean, waving gently in the breeze. For the first time in weeks, Noelle felt the familiar weight of her clothes—and she couldn't help but beam with a triumphant smile.

  Noelle blinked, and the forest was gone.

  She stood atop a jagged mountain peak, the world below hidden beneath a thick, rolling sea of white clouds. The air here was thin and bitingly cold, snapping at her skin. While Arme was nowhere to be seen, Master Rena stood waiting, the wind whipping her hair around her face. In her hands, she held four heavy metallic bangles.

  Without a word, Rena snapped them onto Noelle's wrists and ankles.

  "What are these?" Noelle gasped. She felt a sickening lurch in her chest as her mana suddenly withered. Her vast "sonar" field, which she had worked so hard to build, colpsed instantly until it barely hovered a fraction of an inch above her skin. Without her mana to shield her, the freezing mountain air felt like a physical weight pressing against her.

  "Mana suppressors," Rena replied simply. Her voice was steady, unaffected by the howling wind. "Your previous training was about sensing the world. This is about sensing yourself. You must learn to circute your mana deep within your muscles"

  Noelle shivered violently, her teeth chattering so hard it felt like they might crack. The white dress, which had felt like a luxury in the forest, was now a thin, useless veil against the mountain's freezing breath.

  With a sudden shimmer of light, a heavy wooden training dummy appeared beside her, followed by a narrow, vertical wooden ptform.

  "Battle mages must move their bodies as fluidly as they move their mana," Rena said, her voice cutting through the whistling wind. "Unlike standard mages, you need the strength to punch and kick your opponents to create an opening for an attack."

  To demonstrate, Rena shifted into a low, predatory stance. She snapped a series of lightning-fast kicks into the air, her movements so precise they created small sonic pops in the thin mountain air. She finished the sequence with a devastating axe kick that seemed to vibrate the very ground beneath them.

  "You have no background in martial arts," Rena observed, her eyes scanning Noelle's trembling form. "You have talent in magic, but your body is a clumsy tool. I wonder... how long will it take for you to truly master it?"

  Noelle didn't respond. She couldn't. Her successful evasions from the nights before had been desperate, instinctual scrambles—not the disciplined movement of a warrior.

  "Well," Rena added with a sharp, toothy grin, "time moves differently up here. We have all the time we need."

  A month in, the routine was grueling in its simplicity. Every morning, Noelle stood before the wooden dummy, her knuckles raw as she practiced nothing but a single, focused punch. At night, the process repeated, but with a cruel twist: the mana-suppressing bangles were removed. Without the weight, her arms felt frighteningly light, yet she had to maintain the same exact form and power.

  The second month brought a change in focus, but no relief. Now, it was kicks. She spent her mornings mirroring Rena's stretches—forcing her body into positions that made her muscles scream. By night, after hours of striking the dummy, she was strung upside down from the wooden ptform, dangling by only her left hand. Rena allowed her to use her mana to stabilize herself, but there was a catch: if even a single drop of sweat hit the ground, a jolt of magic shocked her entire body.

  A year bled by in a haze of pain and repetition. Noelle was finally allowed to move on to her master's kata—a strange, fluid set of stances that blended explosive punches with sweeping kicks. After thousands of failures, she finally mastered the axe kick, her heel coming down with the force of a falling star.

  Yet, the masters were never satisfied. Her nightly routine shifted once again; now, after the exhausting katas, she was forced to stand on one foot atop the narrow ptform, perfectly still, until the sun broke over the sea of clouds.

  A few more years passed, and the kata became as natural to Noelle as breathing. The night she finally splintered her first wooden dummy into toothpicks was a turning point; with her bangles removed, her power felt explosive, like a dam finally bursting. Even more impressive was her progress under suppression—through sheer will, she had managed to double the size of her mana field while the bangles were still on, forcing her energy to expand against the heavy magical weight.

  Time was a slippery concept on the mountain peak, but Rena acted as her calendar. Every time they met for a true spar—a brutal, magic-less exchange of fists and feet—Rena would casually mention that another year had gone by.

  Noelle had finished her fifth spar just yesterday. By that count, five years had vanished into the clouds. Yet, as she looked at her hands, she felt a strange disconnect. Her mana was vast and her movements were lethal, but her body remained frozen in time, showing no signs of aging despite the half-decade of toil. She guessed that because of what her master said earlier. So with nothing else to do she continued to train.

  Another year slipped away. By now, the internal circution of her mana was second nature. She had learned to channel her energy into her muscles to enhance her movements; it had been a clumsy process at first, but much like her sonar, it eventually became an extension of her will. She only had to think of speed, and her body obeyed.

  "You have all the foundation you need, Noelle," Rena said. She leaned back effortlessly, evading a sharp punch from Noelle.

  Noelle didn't overextend. She instantly transitioned into a lightning-fast roundhouse kick. Rena parried it with a casual flick of her wrist, catching Noelle's foot and tossing her into the air like a ragdoll. Instead of crashing, Noelle twisted mid-flight with cat-like grace, her mana cushioning her as she nded silently on her feet.

  "Continuing this would be a waste of time," Rena noted, her hands dropping to her sides.

  "What about my crossbow training?" Noelle asked. She didn't wait for an answer, sprinting toward her master in a blur. She unleashed a flurry of punches, but Rena dodged each one with a calm, rhythmic sway. When Rena countered with a jab of her own, Noelle slipped past it with practiced ease.

  "You can train that yourself," Rena replied, stepping back. "You have a spirit, don't you?"

  "I do."

  "Good." Rena reached into her belt and tossed a small object through the air. Noelle caught the silver pin; it was cool to the touch, engraved with a delicate insignia of a winged foot. Rena gave her one st proud smile and a wave. "Then you're ready."

  Before the goodbye could leave her lips, the mountain air vanished. With a sharp, familiar tug at her navel, Noelle was pulled through the void and deposited back into the forest clearing.

  Arme was exactly where she had left her—seated at her table, looking as though not a single day had passed. Without looking up from her tea, Arme flicked her wrist, tossing a second silver pin toward Noelle. This one bore the intricate engraving of a pentagram.

  "If you ever find yourself in need of new skills, bring those tokens back to us," Arme said, a rare, genuine smile softening her features.

  "Thank you, Masters. For everything," Noelle replied, bowing deeply. Her voice was steady now, filled with the confidence of a woman who had survived the impossible.

  As she rose from her bow, a massive stone door materialized out of the forest mist. It featured two distinct circur indentations. Noelle stepped forward and pressed the winged-foot pin and the pentagram pin into their slots. With a heavy, satisfying click, the ancient mechanisms turned, and the door creaked open to reveal a shimmering light.

  "What's the first thing you're going to do once you're through there, Noelle?" Arme called out, her voice filled with curiosity.

  Noelle didn't hesitate. She looked back over her shoulder, a mischievous and triumphant glint in her eyes. "I'm going to have my husband give me a massage!"

  With a joyful ugh, Noelle stepped through the light and back into her husband's waiting arms.

  When Asta entered the door he was greeted back to the square arena, he felt the breeze of this area as a screen appeared in front of him.

  [Css Change Complete]

  [Css: None Gdiator]

  [Passive skills have combined]

  [Ki Sense]+[Threat Detection]+[Ki Armor]+[Mediation]+[SP Recovery] = [True Ki Mastery]

  [SP is now changed to KI]

  [Gained Passive Skill: Rage (C)]

  [Rage maximum value is set to 100]

  [Attributes have been rearranged]

  [Gained: [Longing] Debuff]

  [Gained Extra Skill: Skill Chain]

  Rage (C)

  Type: Martial/ Passive

  Mastery: None

  Cost: 0

  Duration: Until out of combat Effects: 1% dmg per 5% of meter

  Description: Disciplined rage that can be fueled by combat, meter will increase 1 per second with a max of 100.

  True Ki Mastery (C)

  Type: Martial/ Passive

  Mastery: C

  Cost: None

  Effects: Grants [Omniscience],[Reactive Skin],[Zen].

  Omniscience: Grants a 360-degree awareness of all Ki signatures within 600 Meters

  Reactive Skin: 1% of damage is redirected to Ki; reduces overall damage taken by 15%

  Zen: Permanent 1.5% Ki regeneration per second.

  Description: Complete mastery of Ki achieved without System assistance. By bridging the gap between the internal soul and the external world, the user no longer sees the world as separate from them. Mastery increases through experience.

  Longing (EX)

  Type: Spiritual/Debuff

  Effects: Causes the user to prioritize physical interaction with their partner over other tasks.

  Description: Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but decades of separation are a curse.

  Skill Chain (EX)

  Type: Martial/ Passive

  Mastery: None

  Cost: 1% Ki per skill use

  Description: Allows the user to chain skills infinitely and creates an afterimage if timed correctly. Enables "Skill Canceling" (interrupting skill animations). Note: Ki cost is non-refundable once a skill is cast.

  Asta ignored all of it the moment he felt the familiar Ki signature of his wife, the world around him blurred. He sprinted to his left, catching Noelle just as she stepped through her door.

  Before she could even register the change in scenery, Asta swept her into a bone-crushing hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in joyous circles.

  "God, I missed you so much, Noelle!" Asta shouted, his voice thick with relief.

  Noelle let out a surprised gasp, and then melted into the embrace, smiling as she was spun through the air. She squeezed him back just as tightly, the long years of the mountain finally fading away in his arms.

  "I missed you too, Bakasta," Noelle muttered into his shoulder, melting into his embrace as she was spun around.

  Their celebration was cut when a voice with disgust said.

  "Can you two please do this somewhere else?" Liebe's voice rang through the monitors. His silhouette was still shrouded in the darkness of the screen, but his disgust was unmistakable. "You two have only been gone for literally one second, and you're already dirtying my vision. Get out!"

  Asta and Noelle looked toward the screen and ughed. To Liebe, they had just stepped through a door and stepped right back out; to them, a lifetime of grey hair and scarred knuckles had been earned and then reset.

  Without a word of protest, Asta shifted his grip, hoisting Noelle up like a princess. She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest as he carried her back toward their [Partner Room].

  "You want it here?"

  "Yes... right there," Noelle moaned as Asta's hands found the tight muscles of her thighs. He moved with practiced strength to the other leg, making her sigh with a mix of relief and delight.

  The moment they had reached the privacy of their room, Asta had tossed her onto the bed and started to pull off his shirt. Before things could go any further, Noelle had stopped him, rolling over onto her stomach. "I want a massage first," she had insisted, her voice muffled by the pillow.

  Asta had only smiled. He grabbed a bottle of high-quality lotion they'd won from the lottery and rubbed it between his palms to warm it up. Noelle had already discarded her dress, leaving her in her underwear as she settled into the mattress. Now, Asta worked his way across her back and legs, moving exactly as she instructed, his powerful hands kneading away the phantom aches of a decade spent on a frozen mountain peak.

  "Tell me what happened during your training, Noelle," Asta said softly. He focused on her feet, gently rolling her toes and kneading the arches that had spent years bancing on narrow wooden ptforms.

  As Asta's hands moved up to her thighs, spreading the warm lotion across her skin, Noelle began her tale. She spoke of the spirit ke, the relentless midnight ambushes, and the freezing silence of the mountain peak.

  The warmth of the lotion and the steady rhythm of Asta's touch made her feel safe—a sharp contrast to the brutal, clinical training of Arme and Rena. She leaned into the mattress, letting out soft moans of relief as she described the moment she finally mastered her mana sonar.

  Asta listened intently, his hands never stopping their work as he moved back to her shoulders, smoothing the tension out of her muscles while she lost herself in the memory of the years he had missed.

  "So... you basically trained naked for months?" Asta commented. He was working on her hands now, moving slowly and massaging each finger with careful precision.

  "That's all you took away from everything I just said?" Noelle asked, letting out a slight moan that was half-pain and half-comfort as he hit a particurly sore spot.

  "Not really, but it's definitely the part that stood out the most," he teased, a pyful smirk on his face.

  Noelle huffed against the pillow. "Not my training in the mountains?

  "Well, the mountain stuff is a given—you're amazing, so of course you conquered that," Asta replied.

  "Really? Just that?" she pressed, though she couldn't hide the small smile forming at his compliment.

  "Well," Asta added, his thumbs circling her palms, "I guess having an Elf for a master is new. We don't see many of them around."

  "Right! I was shocked as well," Noelle agreed her voice finally rexing. "Master Rena was… unlike anyone I've ever met."

  "So, what was the experience actually like?" Asta asked. He gently turned Noelle over, smiling when he saw her face flushed red from the massage. She looked up at him with a warm, rexed expression.

  "Meeting an elf was new," Noelle mused, her voice trailing off as she remembered. "Master Rena was… mystical. Completely different from Master Arme."

  Asta nodded, then grabbed the lotion bottle and sprayed a cool mist onto Noelle's stomach. She gave a sudden twitch and a soft moan at the sensation. He then began to massage her thighs again, this time from the front, his hands moving with the same steady, careful pressure.

  "So, what was she like?" Asta asked. After finishing with her left thigh, he finally pulled his shirt off. Noelle subconsciously licked her lips as she took in the sight of his new, leaner, and more defined muscles. Without skipping a beat, he began massaging her right thigh. "That master mage, I mean."

  "I th-ink... she was royalty," Noelle moaned, her voice wavering as Asta's hands began deliberately moving upward. "She moved with a grace that put other nobles to shame."

  "Is she strong?" Asta asked, his focus narrowing.

  "S-so much," Noelle whispered, her breath hitching.

  "I want to fight her at least once," Asta said with a determined grin, his hands continuing their steady, rhythmic work.

  Noelle let out a long, shaky moan as Asta's hands continued to move upward. He worked his way past her thighs but carefully bypassed her most sensitive areas, focusing instead on the tension in her hips. She closed her eyes, her breath hitching as his hands reached her upper torso. Even now, he was deliberately evading her breasts, and she couldn't help but smile at his unwavering honesty—it was so like him to be this disciplined, even here.

  "So," she whispered, trying to find her voice through the haze of the massage. "How was your training, Asta?"

  Asta didn't hold back. He told her everything—starting with the grueling weapons training and the years spent banced upside down on a single finger while bck fmes licked at his skin.

  He described his deal with that infuriating bird, and Noelle let out a sharp, horrified gasp when he casually mentioned dying two hundred times. She reached up to touch his arm, as if confirming he was truly there, and smiled with relief when he reached the part where he finally passed the trial.

  As he moved on to his training on the bridge, the storytelling shifted. Asta moved over her, cupping her face with his calloused hands. He began giving her small, lingering pecks on the lips, his voice dropping to a low hum as he expined how he could finally use his master's techniques. Noelle let out a soft moan when he moved his focus to her neck, his tongue tracing the line of her skin.

  "All those years... I kept thinking about you," Asta whispered against her skin, punctuating his words with more small pecks. "It was the only thing that kept me going."

  "Me too," Noelle moaned. She felt Asta's hand slide down to her legs, hoisting them up to rest against his back as he shifted into a better position. She tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as his lips met hers. When she felt his tongue graze hers, asking for entry, she opened her mouth to him without hesitation.

  "I missed you," she whispered between ragged breaths, their voices lost in the heat of the kiss.

  They stayed like that for a long time, the only sounds in the room being the crackling of the firepce and the rhythmic, wet sounds of their breathing and soft sighs. Eventually, Asta pulled back just an inch, his eyes searching hers. Noelle was a beautiful mess—her face was flushed deep red, and a few stray tears of relief and longing shimmered in her eyes.

  "Noelle, I—" Asta began, his voice rough with emotion.

  Before he could finish, Noelle silenced his lips with a gentle finger. She managed a soft, shaky smile. "Not yet," she whispered. "I want our first time to be in the real world... not in this pce."

  Asta nodded, respecting her wish, and leaned back down to kiss her again. He felt her hands trace the lines of his chest, her fingers exploring his muscles as she returned the massage in her own way. They stayed wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the quiet intimacy, until the sheer weight of decades of mental exhaustion finally caught up with them.

  Moving gently, Asta pulled the heavy covers over their bodies. Noelle curled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, and they finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  [Activating Rest: Computing Accumuted Rewards]

  [Css Change Complete]

  [Css: NoneBattle Mage]

  [Passive skills have combined]

  [Water Affinity +1]+[Mana Efficiency +1]+[Mana Coating]+[Water Healing]= [True Mana Mastery]

  [Gained skill: Mana Omniscience (C)]

  [Gained skill: Swift kicks (C)]

  [Gained skill: Awakening (C)]

  [Attributes have been rearranged]

  [Removed: (Longing EX) on both users]

  True Mana Mastery (C)

  Type: Magical/ Passive

  Mastery: C

  Cost: None

  Effects: Grants [Soul of the Tides: Eternal Flow]

  +30% casting speed of [Water] Element

  +20% Mana Regeneration

  +5% of damage is redirected to Mana; reduces overall damage taken by 15%

  Description: Complete mastery of Mana achieved without System assistance. By experiencing mana freely, the user awakens all senses.

  Mana Omniscience (C)

  Type: Magical/ Active

  Mastery: C

  Cost: 1% mana per second

  Effects: Grants a 360-degree awareness of all Mana signatures within 100 Meters, Grants increase evasion based on Agi, Grants Perfect Evasion on attacks with less than 1/32 of user's : Surrounds the user with a concentrated mana field, heightening reflexes and preventing ambushes.

  Awakening (EX)

  Type: Martial/ Active

  Mastery: None Cost: 0 (10 min cooldown)

  Duration: 20 seconds

  Effects: attack power is boosted by 20% during its duration

  Description: Forcefully awakens the tent power stored within the user's core.

  Swift Kicks (C)

  Type: Magical/Passive

  Mastery: (C)

  Effects: 5% attack speed of kicks, [20% in awakening],

  All attacks inflict increased Magical damage based on 5% of Agi

  Description: The Mana within the body adapts to the external flow of magic, enhancing the physical form to move and strike with lethal speed.