Volume 03, Chapter 98

  Training Before The Duel [3]

  The flower field stretches endlessly around them, a sea of color swaying gently in the breeze. It is tranquil, close to home, yet secluded enough for practice.

  Dominic and Clark sit side by side while Célestin stands in front of them, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

  "Alright, Domy," Célestin begins, "now that you've got a decent grasp on your Mana control, it's time for your first spell."

  Dominic nods, keeping his focus steady. “Maybe Dad’s notebook has something basic I can start with.”

  He flips open the spell notebook, his eyes scanning the pages.

  Three spells stand out immediately: Shadow’s Embrace, Eclipse of Despair, and Soul Reaver. Each one comes with a brief description, accompanied by crude stick-figure illustrations that are oddly… cute.

  Clark peeks over curiously. “Shadow’s Eclipse… woah!” His eyes sparkle with wonder.

  Dominic absentmindedly pats Clark’s head, though his attention remains locked on the page:

  Shadow’s Embrace – Cloaks the caster in shadows, muffling their presence and making them nearly invisible in dim light. Can also create fleeting illusions.

  Eclipse of Despair – Summons a dome of darkness that suppresses enemies’ senses, drains their will to fight, and silences all sound within.

  Soul Reaver – Imbues the caster’s attacks with soul-draining energy, siphoning vitality from the enemy upon contact.

  Dominic’s brow furrows. These spells… they’re insanely strong, he thinks.

  Before he can turn the page, Célestin snatches the notebook from his hands.

  “Hey!” Dominic exclaims.

  “Hey!” Clark echoes, puffing his cheeks in indignation.

  Célestin smirks, shaking the notebook playfully. “Domy, come on. These spells are way too advanced! Just look at the descriptions—they’re practically battlefield-level magic. You need to start with something simple.”

  Dominic sighs. “Alright… then what spell am I learning?”

  “A basic Dark Beam,” Célestin replies with a grin. “All you need to do is channel Mana into your hand, picture the spell in your mind, and fire it off. Think of it like shaping a bullet out of raw energy.”

  Dominic stands up, rolling his shoulders. “Alright.” He turns to Clark. “Clark, you should stand back. This might be dangerous.”

  “Okie!” Clark obediently scampers a few steps away.

  Dominic raises his right hand, aiming toward the sky. He cannot risk aiming at the flower field—there is no way he would ruin a farmer’s hard work.

  His brows knit together as he concentrates.

  A surge of power gathers at his fingertips. He envisions a black, shadowy beam—shifting and writhing like living darkness.

  This is where the mind comes in—magic is not just about raw energy. The way a spell is shaped, the way it functions, all depends on the caster’s intent.

  A black orb of energy materializes at his palm—but it is unstable. The shadows crackle and flicker wildly, struggling to maintain their shape.

  Clark and Célestin’s eyes widen slightly.

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  ‘This is too much Mana for a simple beam,’ Dominic realizes.

  He grits his teeth, lowers the amount of energy, and tries to refine it into something manageable.

  “Tch—” He clicks his tongue.

  ‘Controlling how much Mana I use for a spell is harder than I thought,’ Dominic admits inwardly.

  The unstable orb finally condenses, growing smaller, tighter, more focused.

  Time to fire.

  With a deep breath, Dominic releases it.

  —FWOOOM!

  A massive black beam surges from his palm, ripping through the sky like a lance of shadow.

  Clark’s jaw drops, his eyes glowing with awe. “WOAH!”

  Dominic’s own eyes widen in amazement. “I… actually did it.”

  His first spell.

  Célestin, watching the aftermath of the attack, lets out a low whistle. “Well, well… not bad for your first try.” He smirks before crossing his arms. “Buuut… that took you almost two minutes to cast.”

  Dominic wipes the sweat from his brow, still catching his breath. “Two minutes…?”

  “In a real battle, that’s way too long,” Célestin shrugs. “Those with faster Mana control almost always win. Sure, you’ve got a ton of power, but if your opponent can fire off three spells before you can launch one? You’re dead.”

  Dominic lets out an exhausted chuckle but shoots him a thumbs-up. “Guess that just means I’ll have to get even better.”

  He takes another deep breath, rolling his shoulders before raising his right hand again. The first attempt had been slow, but now he has a better grasp of the process.

  This time, he is going to be faster.

  He focuses. The swirling energy of his Mana surges once again, but this time, he deliberately restricts the amount again.

  The dark orb forms much quicker this time, around ten seconds faster. It pulses, the energy steadier, more refined than his first attempt.

  Clark watches with wide, fascinated eyes. His small hands clutch at his sleeves as he holds his breath, his gaze locked onto Dominic.

  Dominic exhales sharply and releases the spell.

  —FWOOOM!

  The dark beam tears through the sky once again, thinner than the last but still powerful. The recoil is not as harsh this time, meaning he is adjusting.

  Dominic lowers his hand, feeling the lingering warmth of his own Mana.

  Célestin grins. “Not bad, Domy. That was at least two seconds faster.”

  Dominic smirks, shaking out his arm. "Yeah… but it still needs work."

  Célestin nods in agreement, then something catches his eye.

  Several loose pages suddenly flutter free from the notebook he is holding, caught by the breeze.

  “Huh?” Dominic blinks, looking down.

  Célestin’s eyes narrow. ‘That is not normal.’ He thought.

  He kneels and reaches for the scattered pages, catching one as it tumbles through the air. The parchment feels different and older.

  Flipping it over, his sharp gaze lands on a detailed portrait.

  A man with long crimson hair, piercing green eyes, and a sharp, almost theatrical smirk stares back at him. He wears a dark violet suit, a ruffled shirt beneath, and a flowing black cape.

  An elaborate golden ring sits on his left hand, almost glowing through the ink of the illustration.

  Célestin’s breath hitches. His grip on the paper tightens. “…Noctis Reél,” he mutters.

  Dominic and Clark turn toward him.

  Célestin’s gaze darkens. “Son of a bit—” He cuts himself off.

  Dominic and Clark stare at him in confusion.

  “…What is it?” Dominic finally asks.

  Célestin remains silent momentarily, staring at the portrait as if the ink might move.

  Then, slowly, he exhales. “…I think we just found something very interesting.”

  Dominic and Clark lean in closer, their eyes drawn to the detailed illustration Célestin holds.

  Dominic narrows his gaze thoughtfully. "So, this is Maurice’s ancestor?"

  "Yeah," Célestin responds, his eyes fixated on the image. "Noctis Reél. He looks a lot like Maurice, doesn't he?"

  Dominic silently studies the portrait for a moment, noting the striking resemblance. The crimson hair, sharp eyes, and theatrical smirk, it is uncanny.

  Clark’s eyes sparkle as he stares at the picture, his mouth hanging slightly open in awe. "Wow, he’s... handsome."

  Dominic raises an eyebrow at Clark’s admiration and cannot help but smile. "Yeah, well... good looks aren’t everything. Especially for someone like him."

  Célestin sighs. "Noctis wasn’t just infamous for his looks. He was a notorious showman who abandoned his own family; he left his son behind and disappeared. Not to mention, he willingly made a contract with a demon."

  Clark blinks, his expression shifting from awe to mild concern. Dominic, on the other hand, looks thoughtful but resigned.

  Dominic finally sighs, shaking his head slightly as he turns away. "Well, it’s not like we can change what he did. It’s all in the past."

  He steps aside and points his palm toward the open sky. Quietly, he mutters to himself, "Dark Beam…"

  Dominic steadies his breathing, carefully drawing Mana from deep within. This time, he limits himself again, pulling about [C+].

  The Mana gathers swiftly, forming a concentrated orb of darkness in his palm.

  It is about 0.3 seconds faster.

  —FWOOOM!

  A sharp beam of darkness shoots forth from his hand, cutting cleanly through the air before dissipating harmlessly into the sky.

  Clark’s eyes widen again in excitement. "Whoa! That was amazing!"

  Though Clark does not notice the subtle difference, Célestin—experienced through countless regressions—picks up even the smallest improvements.

  Célestin quietly watches the dissipating energy, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

  "You’re getting quicker," he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with quiet pride. "Not bad, Domy… not bad at all."