Taking a deep breath, Nova closed his eyes, focusing inward as he reached out to sense the elusive, crackling particles of lightning Mana. He hoped that some lingered nearby.
The room fell into stillness. Only the soft rhythm of his breathing could be heard in the silence.
Seconds slipped by, then minutes. One after another, they stacked like quiet stones until an hour had passed. Nova's once-calm expression began to shift. His brow furrowed, a flicker of doubt creeping into his features, then turning into a full-blown question.
‘Is there no lightning Mana here?’ he wondered. ‘The booklet said it’s rare—but not nonexistent. There should be at least a trace…’
A new thought surfaced.
‘If this is how I search for lightning, maybe I can do the same for other elements. If I can find wind Mana, that proves lightning just isn’t here. But…’
His face darkened as the next conclusion formed.
‘If I can’t sense even wind…’
His jaw tightened.
‘It means I can’t sense elemental Mana at all.’
Unwilling to accept that explanation, Nova shifted his focus to wind.
Time crawled. Each second dragged like an anchor through sand. The stillness became suffocating. Restless, he rose from the bed and began to pace the room, the quiet echo of his footsteps the only sound. Minutes later, he threw open the window, hoping the fresh air might help—might stir something, anything.
As the second hour approached, he remained seated, eyes closed, senses stretched to their limits. He refused to let even the faintest trace of Mana slip past him.
Nothing.
Two hours.
Still nothing.
Three.
Emptiness.
Four.
A dead silence.
By the time dawn crept in, painting pale gold across the walls, Nova's forehead was slick with sweat. His clothes clung to him, damp and heavy. His limbs ached, but he didn’t move. He didn’t stop.
And then—just as the fifth hour struck—
Something changed.
Suddenly, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked in Nova’s senses—Mana unlike any he had encountered before. It wasn’t the usual transparent shimmer he’d come to associate with raw energy. This one had a distinct hue—a muted green-gray, swirling faintly like mist caught in a breeze.
‘Is that… wind Mana?’ he wondered, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Sharpening his senses, Nova fixed his attention on the lone wind particle. In the next breath, he remembered—Will was the key. He then imposed his Will onto it.
Feeling the undeniable pull of his command, the particle did not resist. Silent and obedient, it glided through the air, drawn irresistibly toward him.
Nova raised a hand, palm open, and the particle hovered just above his skin. The moment it touched his fingertip, he felt it—subtle, but undeniably there.
A faint breeze.
So delicate that anyone else would’ve dismissed it as nothing more than a random shift in air, a trick of the room. But he knew better. He could feel it, right where his finger met the particle—like the air there moved just a little faster than the rest.
‘It’s like the wind is flowing across my finger, but nowhere else,’ he thought, captivated.
He let the sensation linger, watching how it danced, how it shifted. Carefully he studied it intently, wanting on engraving every detail into memory—the way this Mana element moved, the nuances in its flow, and the subtle quirks that set this apart from the other elements.
Minutes passed, and a new question surfaced in Nova’s mind—one he couldn’t shake.
‘What if I send this wind inside me?’
The thought lodged itself deep, refusing to fade.
‘I need to try.’
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Focusing once more, he directed his Will toward the particle, urging it gently to enter through the pores of his skin. The wind Mana obeyed, slipping inside with almost no resistance.
But then—nothing.
No sensation, no shift. It simply existed within him, calm and inert.
‘Why isn’t anything happening?’ he wondered. ‘Is it my Will keeping it in check? Or… is this just how it normally behaves?’
The lack of reaction only deepened his curiosity.
‘I need to see its true nature,’ he thought, eyes narrowing with focus.
Quietly, almost in a whisper, he spoke aloud—perhaps more to convince himself than anything else.
“I just need to stop using my Will… and I’ll see the wind particle’s real behavior.”
The moment Nova withdrew his Will from the wind particle, he sensed the change.
A sharp sting radiated from his hand. At first subtle, then steadily growing.
His mind stayed locked on the particle—he hadn’t lost track of it even for a second. He could sense it, moving erratically now, slicing through the delicate web of cells beneath his skin.
‘It’s lacerating me…?’ he thought, wincing. ‘Does it feel trapped? Confined?’
More questions piled on, flooding his mind.
‘Is this the consequence of forcing foreign Mana into the body? Is the first method flawed? Maybe I can only guide external elements… but not internalize them?’
The uncertainty gnawed at him. Was this his limit? To control but never truly integrate—to wield, but never possess?
But the longer he sat with the idea, the more the pieces began to align.
‘Of course.’
Realization dawned, and with it, a strange sense of relief.
“I see,” Nova murmured, his voice tinged with clarity. A knowing look crossed his face—one of quiet understanding. “This is why the second method of Mana control is far superior.”
He couldn’t help but say it aloud, as if speaking the truth made it more real.
“The first method only lets me manipulate external Mana… but with the second, I can transform the Mana already within me—shaping it into any element I choose.”
A faint smile lingered on Nova’s lips—one that teetered on the edge of a grin.
“The second method really is leagues above the first,” he said, voice low with conviction. Then, thoughtfully, he added, “Now I just need to study it further. But… if the booklet is right, I’ll need to endure pain from the inside. Does that mean I have to let the Mana run wild within me?”
It was a dangerous idea—but one worth testing.
Focusing on his hand, Nova kept monitoring the Mana movement of the wind particle still dancing beneath his skin, its edges slicing through his cells with quiet persistence. The pain was tolerable for now, but this was just a single particle. Had there been more, left unchecked, he could’ve lost his hand entirely.
He studied it closely, trying to decipher its behavior. Yet the more he watched, the less he understood.
Minutes slipped by. Then tens. Then an hour.
Nova remained still, eyes locked on the unruly sliver of Mana within him.
“Why is it so erratic?” he muttered, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “There’s no pattern… just chaos.”
Despite his enhanced Stats, fatigue was finally catching up with him. He hadn’t slept in far too long. His mind was slowing, thoughts beginning to blur. But still, he observed—fascinated and determined.
His cells continued to be torn apart… and yet, no lasting harm came. His Regeneration stat worked overtime, tirelessly repairing the damage faster than the wind particle could inflict it. A perfect balance of destruction and restoration.
And Nova watched it all—eyes heavy, but mind sharpened by the knowledge forming in the fire of experience.
‘Regeneration is working?’ Nova thought, splitting his focus to check for any system notifications.
Sure enough, they appeared one after another:
[Regeneration proficiency increased]
[Regeneration proficiency increased]
[Regeneration proficiency increased]
A spark of satisfaction lit up in his eyes. ‘Perfect.’
But something caught his attention—the messages weren’t appearing every second. They trickled in, slowly, about one every ten to fifteen seconds.
“Must be because the injury is so minor,” he muttered. “My body’s barely registering it as damage worth healing.”
Still, he pressed on.
Another hour slipped by. He remained locked in observation, but the wind element continued to defy understanding. No patterns, no clues—just chaos in motion. Yet, strangely, he didn’t feel discouraged.
In fact, he felt the opposite.
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Something interesting… at last.’
His body, however, had reached its limit. His mind was fogging over, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. Every nerve screamed at him to rest. To stop. To breathe.
He had ignored the signs for nearly a day.
Finally, as his concentration began to unravel and the wind particle slipped beyond the reach of his senses, he made his decision.
“I need to sleep.”
Leaving the wind particle inside his body to quietly fuel his Regeneration, Nova closed his eyes—and sleep took him instantly.
Elsewhere in the complex, inside a different room, Darius, Hector, Nox, Shira, and Adira were gathered in quiet discussion.
“Repairs are almost done,” Hector reported. “The workers have cleared the debris, and while there are still a few holes to patch, the place is habitable again.”
Darius gave a short nod. “I’ll assign a few of my commanders to help finish the rest.”
“I’ll do the same,” Hector added, mirroring the nod. “We’ll have it back in shape by the end of the day.”
As the conversation shifted to a recap of the day’s earlier chaos, Adira suddenly interjected.
“Has anyone seen where the Boss went?”
Nox, silent until now, finally spoke. “A maid mentioned he entered a room and hasn’t come out since.”
Shira nodded in agreement. “I heard the same.”
Feeling that Nova must be needing some privacy nobody questioned it.
Darius turned toward Hector, changing the subject. “And what about Alaric? How is he?”
The question hung in the air, the weight of concern settling over them all as Hector—who had carried Alaric all the way here from the academy.
Hector let out a tired sigh. “I laid him on a bed as soon as one of the rooms was cleaned. He looked a little better… but he’s still unconscious.”
“He’ll be okay,” Nox said quietly.
The others nodded. Alaric had Regeneration—strong enough that, as long as the wounds weren’t fatal, his body would eventually recover.
The real question was how long it would take.
“Try looking at it from another angle,” Adira said, breaking the silence.
The others turned to her, brows raised as if to say, What do you mean?
She grinned. “He’s training his Regeneration—twenty-four hours a day, nonstop!”
Silence.
No one laughed.
“I’m going to sleep,” Darius said flatly, already turning toward the door. Hector and Nox followed without a word.
Shira lingered a moment longer, giving Adira a subtle nod before quietly exiting.
Left alone, Adira stood in the stillness, the silence pressing in. She looked toward the empty doorway and murmured to herself,
“…Was it that bad?”
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