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V1. Chapter 10 — Lissandra

  Having finished his study of the Canon of Primordial Void, Kael slowly extinguished the candles. The room sank into a soft half-darkness, and only the moonlight filtering through the window cast silvery glimmers across the floor.

  He sat down cross-legged, placed his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes. For several minutes he simply breathed—steady, even, as though cleansing his mind of all thought. Each exhale carried away fatigue; each inhale made his body lighter, calmer, more obedient.

  When his mind was emptied and his body filled with peace, Kael’s lips twitched faintly.

  “Alright then… time to begin training,” he whispered, his voice quiet yet tinged with excitement.

  He reached for the mana elixir beside him. In the moonlight, the thick blue liquid shimmered like living light. With a slight tremor of anticipation, Kael uncorked it, raised it to his lips, and in one motion tilted his head back.

  The bitter, herb-laden taste flooded his mouth, and then the liquid scorched his throat—hot, like a gulp of strong liquor. But Kael didn’t flinch. Instead, a spark of exhilaration flared in his eyes.

  His first true training had begun.

  As the elixir reached his stomach, he felt warmth—at first faint, then stronger, spreading through his entire body. With every second it grew, as though someone were lighting an invisible fire within him.

  Kael smirked, half-closing his eyes against the rising heat.

  “For Lasthold… not bad,” he murmured under his breath. “But overall… the elixir’s still crap. Once I’m stronger, I’ll have to make something better.”

  He lingered on the thought for a moment, then caught himself drifting from his purpose. Slowly shaking his head, Kael refocused.

  His awareness sank into silence. All sounds—the distant murmur of the street, the creak of cooling wood, even his own breathing—seemed to dissolve. Only boundless darkness remained: soft, encompassing, infinite.

  Kael imagined himself as that void—formless, limitless, eternal. He felt the borders of his body fade, his “self” dissolve, giving way to something greater.

  And then he began to recite the mantra. His inner voice flowed calm and even, like an echo of something ancient that had always lived within him:

  “I am the silence that precedes sound.

  I am the void that holds all things.

  I do not cling to form, for form is illusion.

  I do not cling to thought, for thought is chains.

  Let all pass through me, and let nothing leave a trace.

  In this stillness, power is born.

  In this void—there is infinity.”

  With every word, his breathing grew quieter, his body lighter, and his mind deeper. The void he imagined now seemed to breathe with him.

  Repeating the mantra again and again, Kael gradually felt that familiar—barely perceptible, yet unmistakable—mystical sensation. The air around him seemed to thicken, growing heavy with flowing currents of energy.

  Before his inner sight, soft silvery gleams flared to life—and soon, a faint mist of mana began to gather around his body. It swirled slowly, like a vortex, and then gently stretched toward him, seeping beneath his skin, dissolving into his flesh.

  But as the training truly began, a chain reaction ignited within his body. The full potency of the elixir he had drunk suddenly awoke, resonating in harmony with the mantra. Streams of energy rushed through him like a thousand tiny rivers bursting through every cell.

  Kael felt that power flow through him, washing over everything—his organs, muscles, bones, even his skin. His breath caught; his body flared from within, burning with inner heat.

  “Incredible!” he thought, as everything inside him began to change.

  Every cell responded. His weight felt lighter, his movements freer, his breathing deeper. The strength he had once only read about now coursed through him, became part of him.

  “So this is what a body strengthened by mana feels like…” Kael thought, filled with wonder and awe.

  Savoring the sensation, he refocused and resumed the mantra. The words flowed smoother, deeper, while his breathing grew almost imperceptible. Yet along with the rhythm of the chant, other phrases began to rise in his mind—lines torn from the Canon of Primordial Void, read only hours before.

  They surfaced one after another, weaving into his mantra, merging with it—resonating.

  It was the voice of the Ascetic of the Void—the one who had created the Canon, whose thoughts now fused with Kael’s own.

  "The Void is not absence, but freedom from excess."

  The line resounded clearly in his mind, and without breaking his breathing, Kael thought: “The power of the Void lies not in denying the world, but in detachment from it…”

  The mantra flowed on, and another phrase flickered to life: “He who seeks the Void is already apart from it.”

  And then Kael understood—to seek is to lose; to accept is to attain.

  His awareness expanded, unfolding wider than before. Every phrase, every symbol, every meaning he had once merely understood with his mind, he now felt with his entire being.

  And suddenly, from the deepest silence within him, a new echo arose—not his own, but as if from the essence of existence itself: “When the ‘I’ disappears, the breath of the Void resounds…”

  The words vibrated through his consciousness, and at that instant Kael felt the mana around him condense further. The currents thickened, intertwining, and he sensed something—warm, dense, alive—gathering within his chest, in the region of his heart.

  All the power of the mana elixir, answering that inner call, began to evaporate swiftly, transforming into pure energy and being absorbed by Kael’s body. He felt each cell awaken, filling with strength—his muscles pulsed with warmth, his skin tingled, his blood rang in his veins, and his breathing grew deeper, steadier.

  With each passing second, his body ceased to feel like just a body. Now he sensed mana—not abstractly, not intuitively, but physically. It flowed within him like a second bloodstream, like a new organ born from mana itself. It was as though a new sense had awakened—touch, but turned inward.

  Following that sensation, Kael focused. He directed his awareness toward his chest, where the main wave of heat pulsed—and in that moment, he clearly felt it: a spherical barrier was forming around his heart, dense and stable, like a shell of light and mana.

  “A Mana Core… forming this fast?” he thought, stunned.

  But as he tried to focus deeper, suddenly the space within his consciousness shuddered. A sharp, hollow thud rang out—like a door being violently struck.

  Bam!

  Kael’s eyes snapped open—and for a moment, he was blinded by the bright sunlight flooding the room. The air was crisp; from outside came the chirping of birds and the hum of the awakening market street.

  At the doorway stood Kris, brows furrowed, hands on her hips.

  “Brother! Were you up all night doing nonsense again?!”

  Kael slowly lifted his head, blinking, his gaze unfocused as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

  “The whole night’s gone already? It felt like I’d only just begun…” he thought, still dazed by the lingering sensations of his magical training.

  At that moment, Kris raised one brow, watching as her brother—still sitting on the floor—murmured something under his breath while touching his chest, arms, and shoulders, as if checking whether everything was still in place.

  “What are you groping yourself for?” she said with a teasing grin. “Looking for muscles you don’t have?”

  Kael ignored her. His eyes were full of focus, and his fingers really did seem to feel something new. He muttered quietly:

  “I didn’t sleep… but I don’t feel tired at all… Could this be the result of mana absorption? For such an effect, I’d have to absorb an enormous amount… Is it all because of the mana elixir?”

  Kris sighed and rolled her eyes, clearly deciding her brother was once again “losing his mind.”

  “Anyway,” she grumbled, turning toward the hall, “we’re waiting for you at the table. If you take too long, I’m eating your meat!”

  The door slammed shut with a sound like a small gong, pulling Kael back to reality.

  For a while, he sat motionless. Then the corners of his lips slowly lifted. His smile was strange—calm, but frighteningly assured.

  “The speed of my development… it’s terrifying,” he said quietly, staring into the void. “It must be the result of perfect compatibility between my Soul Form and the Canon of Primordial Void. And, of course, the Canon itself… it’s incredible.”

  He rose to his feet, adjusted his clothes, ran a hand through his hair, and, looking at his reflection in the window, added with a faint but firm smile:

  “If I have enough mana elixirs, I’ll quickly break through to the Core Mage level. And this time… I’ll definitely protect my family.”

  Then he smirked slightly, as if contradicting himself.

  “Although… no need to rush. Everything must be done gradually. While I’m still weak, I should act with patience and reason.”

  He exhaled softly, dismissed his thoughts, and headed toward the door.

  Step by step, he descended the stairs, guided by the scent of fried meat and the warm murmur of family voices.

  Kael ate breakfast quickly, barely taking part in the conversation. He slipped easily back into his usual role—the calm, quiet boy his family knew. He sat straight, nodded at the right times, and occasionally offered brief, polite replies so as not to raise suspicion.

  His parents discussed restaurant matters—wine shipments, a quarrel with the butcher at the market—while Kris waved her spoon animatedly, telling stories about the neighbor’s children. Sometimes she tried to drag her brother into the chatter, but Kael only smiled faintly and replied with dry humor, keeping the same composed tone as always.

  Breakfast ended quickly. Kael thanked his mother, stood up, and headed for the door. For a moment, he lingered there—breathing in the scent of home, a blend of food and morning bustle—then stepped outside.

  The streets of Lasthold were already stirring. Merchants arranged their wares, little children darted through the alleys shouting, and the older ones made their way to lessons.

  Walking the stone-paved road toward the Academy of Spiritual Mages, Kael felt this day was different from the last. Yesterday he had walked there burdened by doubts, unease, and memories—now, he carried calm and certainty.

  He had already laid the foundation. His growth had begun.

  “Is there even a point in going to the academy?” the thought flickered across his mind.

  He gave a crooked smile and muttered softly:

  “No… if I start skipping now, it’ll be a disgrace to my parents.”

  And then, thinking to himself:

  “When I’m strong and influential enough, that obligation will disappear on its own. For now, I don’t mind sitting through lessons… Compared to life in the Divine Library, it’s almost a pleasure.”

  That thought brought him back to focus. Kael lifted his gaze, a confident gleam flashing in his amber eyes, and walked on calmly—already planning how he would stop by the Hall of Ancient Research after class.

  ? ? ?

  Unlike the day before, the lessons went smoothly. Kael sat at his desk, listening attentively but without drawing attention to himself. He observed more than he participated.

  Draxion, as usual, was full of barbed remarks—tossing insults at students, trying to catch someone off guard—but to Kael’s surprise, he didn’t aim any of them at him today.

  The classmates, too, behaved differently. A few glanced at Kael with a curious kind of interest, as if he’d suddenly become worth noticing. He, however, made no effort to stand out again. When the teacher asked questions, he raised his hand no more often than others, answering calmly and evenly, as if he were just another carefree student.

  The whole day passed like that—steady, uneventful, free of conflict or tension. Only at the very end of the final lesson did Kael allow himself a faint smile.

  He was just about to rise from his seat when three figures appeared before his desk.

  First—a girl with pink hair neatly braided into a plait. Lili. The same one who, the day before, had been quick and obedient with her answers.

  Behind her stood two boys—twins with long, slightly wavy violet hair. Calm, thoughtful, always together.

  Kael looked up in surprise.

  “Lili, Bronan, and Dronan,” he noted mentally. “Smart, diligent… usually keep to themselves. What do they want from me?”

  He raised an eyebrow and, keeping his expression polite, said:

  “Hm? Did you need something?”

  Lili shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, then gave a shy nod, clutching her notebooks to her chest.

  “Did something… happen to you, Kael?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to offend. “You seem… different today.”

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  Bronan, standing beside her, chuckled and, before Kael could reply, gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  “I’ll tell you a secret—my brother and I like to compete over who can answer faster than you during class. But today…” He grinned. “Our little game turned out to be pointless. Ha!”

  Dronan nodded in sync, narrowing his eyes slightly.

  “Even if you can’t absorb mana, you’re no failure. So don’t take the words of bastards to heart.”

  There was a faint note of reproach in his tone—clearly aimed at Draxion.

  Kael blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. He hadn’t expected that kind of support. In his previous life, these same students had kept their distance, avoiding conversation or conflict altogether.

  “In my past life, they must have been too afraid to approach me, he thought, studying their open, genuine faces. I could call them hypocrites, but that wouldn’t be true. They’re just kids. I understand why they stayed away before—while Draxion was tormenting me, they were afraid of drawing his fire.”

  He gave them a gentle smile and rose from his seat.

  “Thanks for the concern, guys. But I’m fine,” he said calmly. “Don’t worry.”

  He paused for a moment, then added with a faintly thoughtful smile:

  “It’s just that I’ve been working hard on a certain task lately. Even during lessons, my thoughts are occupied with it.”

  With that, he nodded politely, turned, and walked toward the door.

  Behind him, the trio exchanged looks—Lili still looked puzzled, while the twins only shrugged, equally confused.

  At the far end of the classroom, a derisive snort broke the silence.

  Draxion sat slouched in his chair, watching the scene with open irritation. His lips curled into a sneer as Kael passed by.

  “Losers teaming up now?” he drawled loudly, making sure everyone heard. “Feeling brave after that little worm Kael showed his teeth?”

  A couple of his lackeys burst out laughing, eager to echo their master’s tone.

  “Ah, forget it, Draxion,” one said lazily, stretching. “Let’s hit a restaurant, grab a bite, relax. Why waste time on losers?”

  The other nodded with a grin. “Yeah, man, don’t let them ruin your mood.”

  Draxion’s gaze flicked toward the door where Kael had just disappeared. For a fleeting second, a spark—irritation mixed with confusion—flashed in his eyes.

  “Whatever,” he muttered shortly. “The weather’s nice anyway. Not in the mood to go home and do homework…”

  He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder, and, still scowling toward the corridor, was the first to head out the door.

  ? ? ?

  At that moment, Kael was already walking down one of the Academy’s long corridors, where the occasional footsteps of students echoed faintly as they hurried about their business. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his mind absorbed by thoughts of his upcoming visit to the Hall of Ancient Research.

  “I wonder if I’ll be able to start working today…” he mused. “Or will they make me take those ridiculous tests again?”

  He was completely lost in thought when his gaze drifted left—toward the long line of arched windows that opened onto the Academy’s inner courtyard.

  Through the glass stretched a peaceful scene: a well-kept garden with even paths, shaped bushes, a small crystal-clear pond, and benches shaded by trees—a place where students usually rested between lessons. Yet amid that idyllic stillness, something felt wrong.

  Kael caught a flicker of movement. Beneath one of the trees, half-hidden by the bushes, stood two girls. Their voices were low, but the expressions on their faces said everything—their eyes glinted with malice, their gestures sharp with mockery.

  He narrowed his eyes—and then, behind the trunk of a tree, he caught sight of a hem of green cloth.

  “Someone’s being bullied…” the thought crossed his mind coldly.

  He stopped. His gaze darkened for an instant, and a sharp, unpleasant tightness coiled in his chest—a protest against doing nothing.

  Kael exhaled softly and shook his head. “Not my concern. Better not interfere.”

  He was about to walk on, but his body refused to obey. A slow, needling sense of guilt welled up inside him—familiar and unwanted.

  “Damn it,” he cursed inwardly. “Is that sentimental, naive part of me still demanding justice?”

  He stood motionless for another heartbeat, then looked back toward the courtyard.

  “All right,” he murmured aloud, almost wearily. “It would be too hypocritical to ignore this, considering I went through the same thing myself. I should at least help.”

  With that, Kael abruptly changed direction and quickened his pace, heading toward the nearest exit leading into the courtyard.

  ? ? ?

  Behind the tree, the scene continued to unfold.

  On the damp ground, leaning against the rough trunk, sat a girl. Her thick, curly green hair was tangled, strands clinging to her face, with clumps of dirt at the ends. A single tear traced down her cheek, mixing with the dust. Her heavy bangs nearly covered her eyes—she kept them lowered, as if afraid to look at those standing over her.

  One of the bullies—a tall girl with bright red hair tied into a tight knot—deliberately brushed her boot against the hem of the girl’s robe, as though wiping her shoes clean.

  “You were definitely born out of wedlock,” she sneered, curling her lips into a crooked smile. “I refuse to believe someone this useless could have come from the main bloodline of the great Ancient Roots Family.”

  The second one, with short chestnut hair and a sharp, ringing laugh, chimed in gleefully:

  “Pretty face, maybe… but that’s all you’ve got—an empty shell!”

  The two girls exchanged satisfied looks and burst into even louder laughter.

  The girl on the ground flinched and whimpered, her shoulders trembling. She clutched her hands to her chest as if trying to shield herself and stammered through tears:

  “I… I didn’t do anything… Why are you… being like this to me?”

  Her voice broke, faltering into quiet sobs.

  The bullies only snorted in contempt, savoring her helplessness. Their shadows stretched long across the grass—two predators toying with their prey.

  Then a calm, almost lazy voice spoke from nearby:

  “They do it because their parents raised them poorly.”

  Both girls jolted and turned around.

  At the edge of the path leading into the garden stood a young man—ash-gray hair glinting in the sun, eyes like molten amber. There was no malice in his gaze, only a tired smirk, yet something in that composure made the bullies’ spines go rigid.

  Kael stepped closer. His shadow fell beside the trembling girl. He gave the pair a slow, deliberate look from head to toe, grimaced slightly, and muttered as if reaching a conclusion:

  “Ah… no.”

  Then the corners of his lips lifted, and his tone turned mocking.

  “Looks like they’re just jealous of your beauty. That explains the tantrum.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in, then added with feigned thoughtfulness:

  “They say you shouldn’t judge people by appearances. But in their case…” his smile widened, turning sharp. “Their ugly souls fit their ugly faces.”

  The moment he finished, both girls flushed with rage.

  “What did you just say, you bastard?!” the redhead shouted, stepping forward.

  The second one, with the short brown hair, lunged at him almost instantly. Her face twisted with fury.

  “How dare you insult me?!” she screamed and swung her hand.

  A sharp slap rang out.

  Kael didn’t flinch. His head turned slightly from the blow, but his face stayed carved in the same eerie calm, that same unsettling smile. His amber eyes glinted as he said quietly:

  “Why is it that trash like you always feels the need to ruin someone else’s life?”

  He raised his hand—not fast, not threatening, but enough for the air between them to thicken. A faint shimmer of mana rippled along his fingers. Both girls instinctively recoiled, feeling something dangerous they couldn’t name.

  Then Kael froze. A cold, rational thought echoed within him:

  “Even if my body craves vengeance… now isn’t the time to make enemies over a pair of stupid girls.”

  He exhaled, lowering his hand, and spoke in that same steady tone:

  “I already called for a teacher. If you don’t want trouble, I’ll let you leave quietly.”

  His voice was soft, almost friendly—but that only made it more terrifying.

  At the mention of a teacher, both girls stiffened, glanced at each other, and, without another word, scoffed weakly:

  “Do what you want with that useless doll. Looks like trash attracts trash.”

  They stormed off, heels crunching against the gravel, throwing nervous glances over their shoulders as though afraid he might follow.

  Kael merely snorted. When their footsteps finally faded, he walked slowly toward the girl beneath the tree. A quiet, muttered comment slipped from his lips—more to himself than anyone else:

  “Barely stopped myself from giving that bitch a slap in return.”

  But the girl seemed to hear him. She flinched and quickly raised her head. Tears still glistened on her cheeks, but the sight before Kael made him pause. Despite the dirt and disheveled hair, her face was stunningly delicate—sharp chin, well-shaped brows, full lips, and wide emerald eyes now staring at him in stunned disbelief.

  He squinted, trying to recall where he had seen her before, and spoke—more to himself than as a question:

  “Wait… You’re in the same class as Roselle, aren’t you?”

  At the sight of his face, the girl froze. It was hard to tell what she felt—shock, relief, or confusion. Her breath caught, her lips trembled, and after a moment she whispered:

  “You’re… you’re a failure too.”

  Kael blinked, then burst out laughing, shaking his head.

  “Thanks for the kind words,” he replied dryly. “Exactly what I hoped to hear after saving you.”

  The girl flinched, eyes widening. She quickly shook her head.

  “No! I didn’t mean it like that! I just—I…”

  He raised his hand lightly, signaling there was no offense taken, and gave her a small, almost warm smile.

  “I’m only teasing.”

  After a pause, he added with a curious squint:

  “You’re Lissandra, right?”

  She froze, then gave a hesitant nod. There was a touch of timidity in it—and a faint trace of hurt, as though she wasn’t sure what to be ashamed of: her tears, or herself.

  Kael exhaled quietly, eyeing her mud-streaked clothes and tear-stained face.

  “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Without another word, he reached out, gently took her wrist, and helped her to her feet. Lissandra, startled, nearly lost her balance—his hand moved instinctively to her waist to steady her.

  For an instant she froze. Heat rushed through her body, her cheeks flushing crimson.

  Kael, oblivious, simply helped her stand, as though nothing unusual had happened. His mind was already elsewhere.

  “If I remember right, Lissandra’s father is the younger brother of the head of the Ancient Roots Family… Given how limited Lasthold’s understanding of magic is, she’s branded talentless just like me. A disgrace to her bloodline…” he mused, walking toward the pond.

  He strode ahead confidently, and the girl followed a step behind, tripping slightly, still unsure how to act. To break the silence, Kael said in a calm, reassuring tone:

  “You probably have it worse than I do. I’m from a common family—no one expects much of me. But you? I bet the pressure never stops.”

  Lissandra flinched, and fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Her shoulders trembled, as if he had touched something too painful.

  But before the tears could fall, Kael suddenly chuckled—a light, unbothered sound.

  “Hey, look.”

  He stopped by the water’s edge and lifted his hand, focusing intently. His face grew serious—comically so. Lissandra blinked, puzzled, just about to ask what he was doing when she noticed it—a faint shimmer forming above his palm, a thread of silver light, as if the very air had begun to glow.

  “That’s… that’s mana!” she gasped, stunned. “But how?! You—you weren’t able to absorb mana! You’re supposed to be a failure too!”

  The realization hit her a second too late, and she clapped her hands over her mouth in panic.

  “Oh… I’m sorry…” she stammered, lowering her head.

  Kael merely snorted. A familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “I’ll forgive you this time. But one more insult, and you’ll owe me,” he said playfully, his tone teasing rather than angry.

  Lissandra looked up at him, clearly not realizing it was a joke. She just nodded guiltily, her fingers curling into small fists.

  She was about to ask how he had done it, but Kael spoke first. His amber eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice became calm—measured, older, grounded:

  “Neither of us is a failure.”

  He paused, then continued in a steady, thoughtful tone, as though a mentor explaining something to a student:

  “I study the deciphering of ancient texts. And lately, I’ve learned a few… interesting things. As you can see, I’ve already found a way to bypass the limits of our so-called ‘condition.’”

  The words struck her like a jolt of electricity. In Lissandra’s emerald eyes, something flickered to life—a fragile spark caught between hope and despair. She drew a ragged breath, stepped closer, and, forgetting all sense of restraint, clutched at the fabric of his shirt.

  “Can I do it too?!” she cried, her voice trembling with pleading. “I’m tired of being trash… tired of the contempt in my family’s eyes…”

  Her shoulders began to shake again. The tears she’d been holding back burst forth in a new wave, streaming down her cheeks in glistening trails. Her fingers tightened on his clothes as though she were holding onto her last chance.

  Kael sighed quietly, looking at her trembling shoulders, then reached out without a word. With his sleeve, he gently wiped the wet tracks from Lissandra’s cheeks—an effortless, natural gesture, as if it required no thought at all.

  “Of course you can,” he said confidently, meeting her eyes. “But first, we’ll need to determine your Soul Form and find a magic codex that matches it.”

  “F… Form of Soul?..” she stammered through hiccupped breaths, struggling to grasp his words. “What does that—”

  But before she could finish, her voice broke again. She gripped his wrist tighter, almost painfully, looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes, and nearly shouted:

  “Please! Help me! I’ll do anything you ask—just help me!”

  There wasn’t a trace of deceit in her tone—only raw desperation and a thirst for hope.

  Kael smiled faintly, not mockingly this time, but with calm resolve—the look of someone who had already made his decision.

  “Relax. Since I’ve already stepped in, I’ll see it through.”

  Lissandra froze, gazing up at him. Her wide emerald eyes shimmered with disbelief and the faintest spark of trust.

  “Really?.. You’re not making fun of me?..” she whispered, afraid of hearing him say no.

  Kael shook his head and gently set his hands on her shoulders. His touch was steady, assured—neither too soft nor too firm. He leaned forward slightly and nodded toward the grass by the pond.

  “Sit.”

  The girl obeyed, lowering herself shakily, still sniffling and wringing her hands. Kael sat opposite her, scooped a handful of cool water from the pond, and splashed it lightly across her face. Droplets slid down her cheeks, washing away dirt and tears.

  “I wouldn’t mock you,” he said casually, watching the water drip from her chin. “I know exactly what it’s like to be called a failure.”

  He dipped his hand into the pond again, his brow furrowing slightly as he added:

  “But you’ll have to wait until I reach the Core Mage level… the Bronze Rank. Only then will I be able to help you find out your Soul Form.”

  Lissandra looked up at him again—her eyes wide and shining, tears welling anew.

  “If… if that’s really possible, I… I…” Her voice broke, the rest lost in quiet sobs.

  Kael exhaled heavily, half in irritation but not unkindly—more like an old man scolding a child.

  “Alright, enough of that. I’m in a hurry, you know. If you keep crying like this, we’ll still be washing you off by sunset.”

  He reached for the water once more and, without waiting for her response, ran his hand carefully through her hair, rinsing the dirt from the tangled green strands.

  ? ? ?

  Meanwhile, as Kael stood by the pond helping Lissandra wash up, someone was watching them from the upper floor of the Academy.

  In the window, a pair of scarlet eyes flickered to life. Within them swirled unmasked irritation—and deep beneath it, a flame of jealousy began to burn.

  It was Roselle.

  Just a moment earlier, she had been walking through the corridor, lost in thoughts of training—of how to push her progress further, how to accelerate her growth. Her mind was full of calculations, strategies, lists of techniques and formulas. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a familiar silhouette.

  Kael.

  She stopped. Her eyes lit up with sudden warmth, and she turned toward the window—only to see him standing in the courtyard below, leaning slightly toward Lissandra. The scene looked… far too intimate.

  Roselle’s fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Anger and hurt began to boil in her chest.

  “Lissandra?!” she hissed through her teeth, glaring at the glass as if she could burn a hole through it. “It’s been one day—one!—and girls are already flocking to him!”

  She spun sharply on her heel, marching toward the door as though ready to storm downstairs and “have a word.” But suddenly, she froze.

  Her breathing faltered. The fire in her eyes dimmed. She bit her lip and glanced back toward the window.

  “I promised Kael…” she thought, a sharp, unpleasant sting rising in her chest. “We agreed not to cross paths until he grows stronger. What would he think of me if I broke that promise… the very next day?”

  Inside, Roselle seethed. Her thoughts sparked and scattered like embers in the wind—anger turning to jealousy, jealousy to hurt, hurt to a simmering irritation.

  She bit down harder on her lip, eyes fixed on the courtyard below, barely aware of the world around her. Her heart pounded, urging her on: “Go! Don’t let anyone steal him away!”

  But then… something shifted.

  Roselle blinked and looked again, just as Kael, standing by the pond, adjusted Lissandra’s clothes. His movements were calm, restrained, almost indifferent. He gave a small nod, lifted his hand—a brief, simple farewell—and without looking back, turned to leave.

  Lissandra remained by the water, still dazed and flushed, while Kael walked away with quiet composure, his expression unreadable.

  The sight cooled Roselle’s fury. The flame of jealousy didn’t die out entirely, but it softened—turned warm instead of scorching. A faint, almost indulgent smile curved her lips.

  “Kael looks at me differently,” she murmured, following his departing figure with her eyes. “At least… he did, before yesterday.”

  She straightened, lifting her chin proudly.

  “He’s probably just trying to keep our… friendship quiet for now.”

  The last word slipped out hesitantly, as though she had meant to say something else entirely.

  With that, Roselle turned on her heel and strode down the corridor, her heels tapping in a steady, confident rhythm.

  “Still,” she muttered under her breath, a sly edge in her tone, “I’ll have to keep an eye on that Lissandra. Can’t have her figuring out what makes Kael so… special. I don’t need any competition.”

  Her scarlet eyes gleamed for a moment—not with anger, but with determination.

  ? Author’s Note ?

  Thanks for reading! I’m sharing this story on RoyalRoad in my spare time, while most of my focus goes to Book 3 of The Greatest Heretic. Unfortunately, only a few chapters of that series are on RR — the full story is on Amazon.

  This story about Kael is different: I don’t plan to publish it on Amazon and will be slowly developing it here. If you enjoy it, your ratings and reviews will let me know the story is connecting with readers, and I’ll do my best to put in more time and release chapters more regularly!

  So yeah… drop those stars, reviews and comments — it’s basically the SPAM2WIN code to spawn extra chapters and keep this author-NPC grinding at the keyboard. ?????

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