"Do you know what aura is?" Noctharion's voice rumbled, calm yet heavy with expectation.
I nodded slowly. "Yes… Aura is the force born from one's core. It's the body's raw power, drawn out and refined. Unlike mana, which flows outward to shape spells, aura turns inward first—circulating through the body, hardening flesh, sharpening speed, amplifying strength. It is the will of the core, made tangible."
"So why are you not using it correctly?" Noctharion's voice cut through the silence, calm yet sharp.
I frowned. "You're saying I'm not using it correctly?"
"Yes," he said simply.
"Aura and mana… what most people believe are two separate things—they are not. They come from the same source. The only difference is in how you wield them."
My eyes narrowed. "So you're saying aura and mana are the same?"
"Exactly," Noctharion replied. His gaze pierced me, ancient and knowing. "What I see is this: the body. That frail, mortal vessel of yours. It cannot endure both forces at once. That is why your kind split the usage—training your flesh to handle only one path. It became tradition, then inheritance. Over generations, bloodlines molded themselves to accept only one form, passing that weakness to their descendants from birth."
"So you're saying… theoretically it is possible to use both aura and mana at the same time? The only reason we can't is because of our weak constitution."
"Yes," Noctharion replied.
"But in history, there are mentions of two people who could use both."
"They must have been the ones who overcame the limits placed on them," Noctharion said.
"I see…" I narrowed my eyes. "So how do I do it? Can my body really handle both simultaneously?"
"You don't have to worry about it," Noctharion's voice rumbled, calm yet heavy, like stone grinding against stone. "As I said before… You are an anomaly in this world. Your soul is stronger than any mortal I have ever seen. And after you absorbed that core back then, your own has already surpassed most people walking this land."
His words carried a strange reassurance, but there was no warmth in them—only truth.
"Be warned, though," he continued, his eyes like shards of midnight. "The method I will teach you… It was never meant for mortals. Even for you, the chance of surviving it is slim. The pain will be unlike anything you've endured before."
I drew in a breath, steadying myself. "What exactly is this method?"
Noctharion's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It is my own creation. A path to wield both mana and aura simultaneously. With a single core—your core—both forces will be stored, refined, and expanded together. You will not separate them as the world dictates. Instead, they will become one."
His words echoed in my chest like a tolling bell.
"But…" he said, and the air seemed to thicken, "to achieve this, your entire constitution must be broken and remade. Every mandarine in your body will be forcefully expanded, reshaped, to channel both mana and aura. They will flow together through your veins—intertwined, inseparable."
My fingers curled into fists. "And the result?"
"The result," Noctharion's voice dropped lower, almost reverent, "is immense. Your capacity for mana and aura will grow beyond measure. Any increase in one… will fuel the other. They will rise as one flame, burning higher than the heavens—or consuming you whole."
"Okay then… do it," I said to Noctharion.
A crooked smile spread across his face before his form blurred and melted into the shadows, vanishing from sight.
But his voice lingered, curling in my mind like smoke.
'Now sit down… and relax your body.'
I drew a sharp breath and obeyed, lowering myself to the cold ground. My muscles tensed at first, instincts screaming to resist, but I forced them still. One by one, I let the stiffness bleed out of my arms, my legs, my chest.
My heart pounded as the silence thickened.
I didn't know what he was about to do.
But I knew it wouldn't be pleasant.
Noctharion's voice rumbled in my mind, steady and calm, yet carrying a weight that pressed against my chest.
"Kael, I will take control over your core and your mana channels. Do not resist me."
I narrowed my eyes. "You can really do that?"
"Yes. We are bound. But understand this—I cannot act without your permission. My will is tied to yours. If you refuse, I remain powerless. So tell me, Kael… do you allow it?"
I hesitated, my heart drumming inside my ribs. The thought of surrendering control to him… it was madness. Yet, wasn't this the only path forward?
"…Do it."
A low hum echoed through my veins, like chains shifting inside my body.
"Good. Then listen closely." His tone sharpened, almost like a blade against stone. "I will condense mana into your core and drive it through your veins—forcefully. Right now, your mana channels are fragile, brittle… like glass. That is the nature of magicians. But Aura users are different. Their veins are forged like steel, unyielding, unbreakable. Aura is harder, sharper in essence."
A cold shiver slid down my spine as his words sank in.
"By flooding your veins with mana," he continued, "I will shatter that weakness. I will temper them until they can endure both fire and storm. And when I deem your body strong enough… I will overload your core."
My breath caught. "Overload…?"
"Yes. I will break it." His voice was a growl, deep and merciless. "The moment your core shatters, it will release an ocean of energy. I will seize that excess, twist it, and forge it into an aura. Then your body will bear both mana and aura… a vessel of duality. Once the storm subsides, I will rebuild your core anew, one not of frail mana alone, but of both powers intertwined."
Silence followed, heavy and suffocating. I clenched my fists, jaw tightening as his words echoed in my head. To break the very foundation of my being—just to rebuild it stronger.
Madness.
This is pure madness.
"You're breaking my core... is there any chance of failure?" I asked, my voice low, strained.
Noctharion laughed. Not the laugh of someone amused but of someone who had never even considered the word failure.
"Failure?" His tone dripped with disdain. "Kael, the only failure that exists here is within you. If you cannot endure—if you lose consciousness—then yes, your body will shatter. You will die, at the very least. And if you live…" His voice deepened, a cruel edge in it. "You will suffer a fate worse than death, crippled, powerless, like an ordinary human without a core. That is the price of weakness."
My chest tightened. The consequences were clear. The cost of failure… immeasurable.
"So that's it," I whispered. "I succeed… or I'm destroyed."
Noctharion's silence was the only confirmation I needed.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe evenly. Can I do it? No… I must. If I cannot take this risk, then how will I ever face the trials ahead? The future of this world is not light, it is drenched in death and darkness. Only strength can cut through it. Only strength can protect me… and her.
Resolve hardened in my chest like steel.
"I'll do it," I said. My voice no longer trembled. "I am ready."
"Good," Noctharion's tone curved into something darkly satisfied. "Then we begin. Do not resist no matter what happens."