I sat with Sina, eyes closed, as I held my palm against her head. “Start trying to cycle your core.”

  I thought it would be difficult to find the same area in an animal’s brain, but both humans and beasts performed magic through their subconscious. So, when I searched, I found it immediately.

  “Okay…” I whispered. “I’m going to try to channel mana into you, okay?”

  She nodded.

  I channeled mana—and hell broke loose.

  It turned out the spell I triggered was the same that covered her body in blue flames. My rug instantly lit on fire, and Kline swiped his paw, creating a violent gust of wind that sent Sina and me crashing into the wall.

  I hit the ground and turned back.

  Dain and Ryn had surrounded Kline on both sides, but Kline was in the center, casually licking his paw like human women stare at their nails. It seemed he was salty about leaving him the past two nights.

  You little shit… I thought. I then looked at the rug and saw the whole thing had burned. I was damn lucky Sina’s flames only attacked human and animal compounds, including wool and other beast alternatives, or my entire home would’ve caught flames.

  I sighed. “Thanks for saving our home.”

  He didn’t look at me.

  “And for being the best kitty cat ever.”

  He glowered at me.

  “And I’m sorry for leaving you alone the last two days.”

  He must’ve decided that was good enough because he came three-quarters of the way to my outstretched arm and lay on the ground.

  Sina tried to jump at him, but I caught her. She was in her tiny form, and she was so cute and fluffy. I rubbed my cheek against her, and Kline hopped up, jumping into my lap in a fit of jealousy.

  Normal day in the life.

  “Okay then,” I said, putting her down. “We’ll have a snuggle break, and then we’re going outside. We now know I can activate spells—now we need to figure out how we can channel mana through you so that you can activate spells.”

  The three lurvine wagged their tails. So cute. So, goddamn cute.

  After lots of snuggles and assuring Kline that Kai wasn’t moving in, we went outside and got to work. Which was to say, we failed. I managed to be able to activate spells, but activating them at a distance was a different story. I mostly ended up shooting raw mana at the poor things and knocking them over.

  It was a rough start.

  “Lithco,” I said. “Is there a solution for like… anchor channeling? There’s gotta be a spell where someone triggers mana bombs at a distance or something.”

  “Yes.” Lithco spiraled out of a tree’s roots like he was a Dryad, reminding me that I still needed to visit Aelium to plant Escala’s seed in the guardian tree. He then brushed off his clothing. “You should start with domains—but it deals with magic. It’s in one of your books somewhere, but if you develop it on your own, you’ll get a reward for initiative and talent.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Rewards… where are my rewards? I’ve been slaughtering things and starting kingdoms, and I haven’t gotten any. I stagnated on thirty-six despite slaughtering things and starting kingdoms. Not everything I’ve done is alchemy related somehow.”

  “That is true, but there are some problems with your training,” LIthco said. “First off, the stronger you get, the fewer rewards you get for the same thing. At this point, fighting third-evolution beasts is like hunting second. So even if you kill a thousand, it won’t even earn you a gold. Since the system deems high rewards necessary for you to complete your goals, and you are not desperate for them, it’s been saving up your rewards. You will likely level up a few levels with high rewards.

  “Second, the system does not gamify the leadership skill. For example, the Oracle deemed your action to execute your general a good move, but delayed the potential rewards to prevent you from going on a killing spree to try to earn more.”

  “That’s fair…”

  “It’s also unclear whether certain things are good ideas for the long run. For example, it seemed like your changes were positive and working, but Ikala destabilized the entire settlement and attempted a coup. Therefore we don’t reward anyone until they’ve proven stable results.”

  “That’s… also fair. But once again—I’ve made some big gains. I killed a fourth evolution beast.”

  “With a failing strategy that only worked with the help of an indeterminate soul guardian.”

  I seethed.

  “Mira. You need to understand—almost every amazing achievement you’re accomplishing is outside the Oracle’s eyes. You’re using a guardian that doesn’t seem to meet the Oracle’s standards. We can’t prove you created your super special elixir, and we cannot determine whether you’ve made achievements on your own or with the aid of teachers—which makes a huge difference. So, while you will likely get a payday of rewards once the Oracle can prove your talent, it won’t do so before.

  “That’s why it’s important to take opportunities like this to show you’re actually talented, and not just doing… whatever you’re doing. If you can do that, I’ll issue an appeal to get you a backlog of rewards.”

  I sighed. “Whatever… Domain with magic… So it’s just regulating magic in an area like air. Then I control that…”

  I released mana to create a dome around me and then used the reverse phenomenon to remove mana from that space. That’s essential training for domains. I then regulated mana to push half out, a quarter, a tenth, most, little, and it all felt smooth as silk.

  “Sina…” I said. “Channel.”

  She walked into the bubble, I condensed mana around her—and nothing happened.

  I slouched my shoulders. “I created a domain. Don’t tell me you didn’t see that.”

  “Oh, I did,” Lithco said. “But remember—I said it starts with domains. If it was as easy as surrounding her in mana, well…” He looked around. “She’d be able to use magic already, wouldn’t she?”

  I released a frustrated sigh. “So I’m just creating a domain of my mana. But I still have to use it. But… how? It’s not like I’ve triggered any spells before.”

  “Think again.”

  I thought about it—and then it hit me.

  I overlaid Sina’s ghostly form with an illusion to make her look real again. That was triggering a spell outside of my body. Contrary to the belief that I wasn’t triggering magic from telepathic anchors, I had been doing it for years—at scale.

  I touched Sina’s head and then recreated her mana channels and mana blueprint with Dreamscape. Then, I stepped back and flooded that illusion with mana. She lit with wisps of blue flames—and I got a chime notification. I ignored it because she was prancing around in excitement.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Lithco laughed. “She bitches about not getting a reward, then when she gets one, she completely ignores it.”

  I rolled my eyes and checked the screen.

  -

  Congratulations! Scion Mira Hill has met the conditions to be promoted from Level 36 to Level 37. You’ve leveled up!

  You have received two requests:

  Information Request

  Free Request | Grade: Diamond

  Description: Contrary to what you may believe, learning magic doesn’t directly give you rewards. If it did, everyone would get rewards for spending requests and following through. However, you are, quite surprisingly, on the precipice of creating new magic. If you were to create a way for souls to use magic on their own with illusionary channels, you would have officially created a new form of magic. Admittedly, it’s easier because soulmancy is extravagantly illegal in most places, purposely hidden from the Oracle, and the generation of soulmancers preceding the Oracle was ruthlessly hunted down. That said, soulmancy of this scale is famously difficult, and manifested illusionary arts is a high-rank hybrid magic, so it would be very unlikely someone would master two areas before the eighth evolution, anyway.

  And rejoice! The Oracle has even offered you a chain quest:

  Quest: Release a God Rank Magic to the Multiverse

  Rank: Variable

  Description: If you wish to commit suicide for mind-breaking rewards, prove you have the memories of a hidden soulmancer god and put a multiversal-wide bullseye on your back by releasing your magic into the Oracle system. Due to its extravagant power potential, the spell could have a major impact on the multiverse, starting wars between gods who want it and the glaves wanting to stop it. Depending on the impact, if you restrict your ability to gain rewards for ten or twelve millennia, it’s possible to even achieve a mythic reward.

  Note: You can accept this reward at any time, but it’s truly not likely to give you any benefit for less than three thousand years, and by then, you will be dead.

  -

  My eyes deadened. I felt like I went down a sinkhole that stole three minutes of my life without me even knowing it. “I’ll pass. But… can’t I get an epic just for doing it?”

  “You probably will,” Lithco said. “Even if your soulmancy is dubious, your Dreamscape talents are hard-earned, and creating magic shows immense competency. So it will count. So long as you do this without my help.”

  “Nice,” I said. “Okay… Who’s next?”

  Dain and Ryn flew toward me in excitement, then left four hours later when we called it—unsuccessful.

  The lurvines were stoked that I could give them back their flames, but there was some sadness that they couldn’t call their magic. Not yet, at least.

  There was also a dark cloud that hung over the training: Reta.

  She said that if I couldn’t make it work, I would need to stop trying, or she wouldn’t teach me. You’d think that Reta would see these creatures burst into flames and say, Wow, you actually did it and help, but we knew better. Reta was a woman of convictions—someone who guarded Harlock Tunnel for a hundred thousand years at Brindle’s request. She promised to help the person who made it through their tests become a soulmancer; the fact that she entertained Dreamscape at all was a sign of respect.

  But that was over. The only reason I felt it was possible at all was because we were attacked during the training. I still had time before leaving, but I felt a need to leave—it was justified. It was a loophole I thought might work—but I had to do the leg work. Otherwise, she would just stop teaching me. It was a hardline—and I wasn’t going to give up her teaching. It was too valuable.

  I sighed, and that’s when my savior came through. I saw him walk up through a weak Wood Wide Web spell I kept around me at all times.

  “It’s kinda cool, isn’t it?” I asked.

  Aiden sat against a log with a gentle smile, accepting hugs from Sina and the lurvine. “Kinda cool? You see how happy these little guys are?” He snuggled them. “This is the coolest magic in the universe.”

  I smiled gently as I watched him love them.

  “Yeah, it is really cool.”

  “And strange,” he added. “I’m not sure how you’re going to make it work without an enchantment.”

  “An… enchantment? What do you mean?”

  “I mean like… you’re cycling your mana in there. Right? So how are they supposed to cycle their mana when you’re cycling your mana at the same time?”

  “That’s… the problem. So, how do enchantments fix that?”

  “Well, enchantments come in two forms. Physical Augmentation and Amplification. Physical augmentation is what it sounds like—you cast a spell that enhances something’s body. That’s purely external, even if it enhances muscles or bones directly—it’s an outside force going in. By contrast, there’s Amplification, which allows you to channel in more mana into someone. So if someone’s running out of mana, you can enchant them to give them more. And when you do, you do it in such a way that links your mana to their mind. That way, once your mana enters their core, it’s them actually using it.”

  My mind looped in circles as I thought about this. “I see… so I just need to link the mana flow to their mind?”

  “Well, sort of. It’s extremely dangerous because you’re putting your mana in their channels. That’s obviously a problem, considering you have nearly infinite mana flow and other people don’t. You can also add the mana chaotically and make someone’s channels rupture. It’s tricky business; that’s why only beast tamers make up the lion’s share of amplifiers. We have long-term intimate bonds with our beasts.”

  “I see… But these guys don’t have mana channels. So… that won’t be a problem. Right?”

  “Hey, don’t look at me. I don’t even know what you did to them.”

  I smiled wryly. “Any of you want to give it a shot?”

  All three lurvine looked hesitant, but Dain walked forward like a proud warrior.

  “Wait, you’re just going to try it?” Aiden cried. “You haven’t even learned a spell!”

  “Well, yeah. My nearan control is beyond your wildest understanding. If it’s just a link between his mind and the mana, I don’t need a spell. In fact, I see why Lithco said I didn’t even need a spell. I feel stupid for not approaching it this way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, cold determination in my eyes. As sure as throwing paper in a windstorm will make it float, I knew that if I just needed to create a link between mind and mana, I could do it—vastly better than any technique Aiden could buy.

  “And what if they explode?” Aiden asked nervously.

  I laughed dryly. “Oh, they will. But that’s fine. As long as I’m alive—They’re immortal.”

  Sina’s eyes twinkled, and Kline hung his head as if he were jealous of her dying. Little asshole. He’d need to cuddle up a storm tonight to make up for his rudeness today.

  “Seriously?” Aiden asked.

  “Yeah, seriously. And they don’t feel pain. Their minds won’t even dissolve. It’ll just hang there suspended until they’re released. Whatever, just watch.”

  Ryn and Sina ran forward to go first after getting my assurances.

  “No,” I said. “Dain gets to go first.” They backed up bitterly. I turned to Aiden. “And you should step back. We’re working with lurvine flames.”

  He put his hands and walked back fifty feet.

  I put my hand on his head, recreated his blueprint, and then created a nearan link between the mana and his mind. “Activate the spell,” I said.

  He did—and he summoned tiny flames.

  I laughed in wild amazement and heard a chime. I ignored it and hugged him. It was a jovial moment, and Aiden came up to celebrate. Ryn then demanded he go next, so I did the same, creating the blueprint and then asking, “So, how does Amplification work?”

  Aiden walked back even further than before. “Well, as you can see, Amplification isn’t technically necessary, but you’d have to create a super powerful domain around them to give them magic. That’s inefficient, so we use mana from the atmosphere to fuel the enchantment, like sucking gasoline fumes from the air into an engine. That’s what amplification is. As for how you use it, you use a core technique known as gravitation to charge the mana around you. It makes it yours, in a sense. Then, you use it for its spells.”

  “Great, so I need to learn a new technique.” I sighed.

  “Actually no. It’s a huge deal for first-evs to do it, but the second-evolution core unlocks that skill naturally. Malo said you do it just by churning your core, and it only doesn’t work if a greater pull is amplifying the mana. That’s why Malo’s attacks against Ikala were apparently so weak—Ikala was dominating the mana around him.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, thinking through it. I summoned a machete out of pure mana and willed mana from the atmosphere as if I were making a domain. It sucked into the machete, making it larger without taxing my core.

  “No wonder people are so much more powerful after evolutions…” I muttered in thought. “But wait, if this is external, then how do I get it inside their channels?”

  “Just do what you were doing before. Remember, amplification doesn’t increase your core size—it allows your core to attract external mana to give your spells fuel. So just do what you’re doing, and then summon the mana around you to give it more gas.”

  “Uh… okay…” I looked at Ryn. “You ready?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay… Light ‘er up.”

  Ryn created tiny flames in delight, and I said, “Three… two… one—”

  Aiden had backed up sixty feet—but it didn’t matter. A hurricane-like torrent of fire swept through the forest—engulfing both of us in five-thousand-degree flames.