It was well past morning when Zatiel finally stirred from his slumber. The quiet hum of the Magic Tower surrounded him, but his focus was entirely inward as he assessed the state of his body.
Almost immediately, his eyes lit with satisfaction.
Excellent! he thought. The quantity of my abyss aura is unchanged from yesterday, but now it flows faster—more forceful, more alive—through every vein and muscle. Being a Neo-Demon truly has its surprises.
His greatest worry about pursuing rune crafting had always been the heavy toll it took in both time and energy. The process demanded intense focus and drained his reserves, and he had feared it might slow the growth of his abyss aura. Yet what he found was the opposite—channeling his energy into crafting seemed to temper and refine it, improving its circulation and potency.
While the raw amount of aura remained the same, its enhanced flow granted him sharper combat efficiency and would, in turn, accelerate future growth. Such a result was only possible thanks to the remarkable adaptability of his Neo-Demon constitution.
Good, Zatiel mused. Today, I'll craft two more Secondary Consciousness runes—one for Little EZ, one for myself, and a third to sell. Then I'll repeat the process with the other Rank 0 rune designs I've chosen.
He set his plans in place while leisurely consuming the hearts of a few magical beasts, letting the rich essence restore his vitality. Once replenished, he moved to the workbench without delay.
Having completed the rune once before, the process now flowed more naturally. The sequence was unchanged: refining the raw materials, readying the rune pen, and then carefully inscribing the design according to the precise schematic.
Even so, fatigue nipped at him. Unlike ordinary apprentices, Zatiel didn't need bed rest to recover; a few hours of deep meditation restored him to full capacity. By noon, his focus was unbroken, and the third rune lay finished before him.
He studied the completed pieces, feeling a flicker of pride. It was no small feat for an apprentice to craft three peak Rank 0 runes in succession without a single failure. Yet the pride faded as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual steely focus.
No, he reminded himself, these are just Rank 0 runes. I can't allow myself to grow complacent over such minor accomplishments.
To anyone else, his attitude might have seemed absurd. Apprentices often struggled to produce even the simplest Rank 0 rune, and success rates hovered around twenty percent for most. Zatiel's streak of flawless completions was, to them, nothing short of legendary.
But Zatiel measured himself against a far higher standard.
Runes, like all powers in the vast universe, were classified by rank, and so too were the artisans who inscribed them. Merely creating Rank 0 runes did not make one a runemaster. To earn the title of Rank 0 Runemaster, one needed to consistently craft peak Rank 0 runes with at least a thirty percent success rate.
Progressing to Rank 1, Rank 2, or Rank 3 Runemaster required crafting runes of the corresponding rank—no matter their complexity—with at least a twenty percent success rate. Officially, reaching Rank 1 also required being a Rank 1 lifeform, as the energy demands were tremendous. Still, history knew of prodigies who bent or broke such conventions entirely.
By early afternoon, Zatiel had rested enough to begin work on his second chosen rune.
This one was called Aerial Walk, a peak Rank 0 design that allowed its bearer to walk through the air as though it were solid ground. Unlike flight, which could be countered by disrupting lift or mana flow, Aerial Walk granted precise mobility and footing in three dimensions—an incredible advantage in combat.
Its core ingredients were the claws of harpies and the hearts of rat-men, embodiments of wind and earth energy respectively. The interplay of these opposing forces formed the foundation of the rune's power. Zatiel knew that while Rank 0 designs could be copied from diagrams without full comprehension, true mastery in rune crafting demanded understanding. That foundation would be essential when he eventually moved on to higher ranks.
Meanwhile, in another section of the tower, Ezequiel sat in his small laboratory, surrounded by broken tools and scattered fragments of failed work—shards of magical weapons, cracked armor plates, and disenchanted jewels. The air smelled faintly of scorched metal and singed leather.
He worked in silence, his expression locked in focus as he tried to bind an enchantment to the hilt of a short blade. It failed with a sharp snap, the glow dying instantly. He exhaled slowly, setting the blade aside among the others.
Failure after failure, yet his determination did not waver.
Unbeknownst to him, Zatiel had entered without a sound, leaning casually against the wall and watching. His gaze, warm yet discerning, followed every movement of his apprentice's hands.
The ease with which Zatiel accessed Ezequiel's private workspace spoke of a trust rare among apprentices—trust built not on obligation, but on a mutual understanding forged through shared battles and unspoken loyalty.
The string of mistakes didn't trouble Zatiel in the slightest. In fact, he found himself prouder with each attempt. Skill was earned in repetition, and mastery was forged in failure.
Then, without warning, Zatiel's voice boomed through the room.
"BRAT! WAKE UP!"
Ezequiel jolted so hard he nearly knocked over the workbench. His reflexes kicked in, body tensing in preparation for an attack—until his eyes landed on Zatiel, grinning broadly.
The tension drained instantly, replaced by mild embarrassment. "Master," Ezequiel muttered, lowering his guard.
Zatiel chuckled, clearly amused by the reaction. "Relax. I came to see how my future master craftsman is doing."
They spoke for a while about Ezequiel's struggles and small victories. The younger man admitted that magical equipment crafting was far more complex than he'd imagined—but he wasn't about to give up.
Zatiel's voice grew firm, though his eyes stayed kind. "Remember this, Little EZ: success is not final, and failure is not fatal. It's the courage to keep going that matters. A million failures mean nothing as long as you don't quit. You could never disappoint me unless you gave up."