Adrian stood there, Dorian's words echoing in his mind.
Air-writing must have been the first method, pure mana drawn in the air, collapsing the instant it was left alone. Then came parchment and ink, the discovery that symbols could be anchored.
That was when inscriptions became weapons.
But affinity-binding remained the insurmountable wall. Perhaps it wasn't even a flaw to those aliens. To them, affinity-binding might have felt natural, obvious.
It's just humanity was weaker and desperate, and had to try breaking this wall for more power.
Adrian turned his attention to the ink vial on the nearby workstation in the head hall. Until now, he had treated it as ordinary, just a liquid medium. But there was a faint hum of mana in it, and he had never asked why.
He pulled his device from his robes and searched the archives. Mana ink was made from distilled beast blood, which had little mana in it, and a stabilizing herb to prevent decay.
Trying to write runes with normal ink resulted in collapsing instantly, like air-writing. No one knew why, it's still one of the mysteries of the language of mana.
So came the creation of mana ink, with the little mana inside it, it could hold the symbols from the language and the herb mixed into it prevented any decay.
Other than this, only smart devices could safely display the symbols digitally, because they weren't truly written, just projected.
Adrian thought as he stood there, the ink acted as a medium, so the rune would not collapse.
And he couldn't find how the Language of Mana adapted raw mana into different affinity types for basic runes, but this at least gave him an idea. What he needed was something else to translate.
The only thing Adrian had was the Source. It was the one that converted his raw mana into any affinity he needed.
Before, he thought only he could use it, that it was basically a dead end. But what if he could use the Source as another medium? Like how ink held the symbols, maybe the Source could act as the translator.
But how could he achieve it? The Source was just his affinity. How could he make it into a medium?
So he began to try.
The white-grey mist curled around his hand as he activated his pseudo-manifestation. He pressed it directly into a rune scroll parchment already bearing an advanced fireball spell. The fibers blackened, tearing under the weight.
He then tried shaping a rune in the parchment, without using the ink. He was directly trying to replace the ink with his source mana. It collapsed the moment he completed it.
"Wasting parchment, are we?"
The dry voice cut across the hall. Dorian hadn't looked up from his desk, but Adrian could feel the old man's gaze.
Adrian hesitated, then lifted his hand. The mist coiled above his palm, faintly luminous.
"This is my Echo manifestation. It mirrors affinities, that's what makes it special. I thought if I could use it as a medium, like ink, it might translate mana instead of requiring the right affinity."
That earned Dorian's attention. His eyes narrowed.
"Echo..." he muttered. "I've heard the reports. A miracle affinity, yes. But don't fool yourself, boy. Ink is already a perfect medium. You can't just create another."
"Then what if I don't create a new medium," Adrian muttered as this thought came to him, "but try to add my affinity into the ink, to act as the translator!"
Dorian studied him for a long moment, then gave a slight shrug. "Your points to waste."
Adrian turned back to the table, heart pounding. Perhaps he was doing it wrong, trying to apply Source mana on top of the scroll or replace ink entirely with source mana was wrong. What if it needed to work with ink instead?
He picked up a fresh vial of mana ink, feeling its subtle hum against his fingers. The liquid was dark blue, almost black.
Adrian let his pseudo-manifestation flow around the vial. The white-grey mist seeped through the glass, mixing with the ink inside.
The reaction was immediate. The ink began to shimmer, its color shifting from deep blue to a swirling white-grey that pulsed with inner light.
"Interesting," Dorian murmured, finally looking up from his work. "The ink is accepting your manifestation."
"I have never seen the ink accepting any affinity-based mana. All the ones tried before just burst." Dorian's voice carried decades of experience. "And even if it worked out, others' affinity did not work as a translator, maybe yours…"
He stopped there, curiosity overtaking skepticism. The old Rune Master leaned forward, watching Adrian's every movement.
Adrian's pulse quickened. This was it, the moment that could change everything. He dipped the quill into the transformed ink, feeling its strange warmth against the tip.
A healing rune took shape under his careful strokes. Each symbol glowed faintly as he inscribed it, white-grey light bleeding through the parchment fibers. But the structure held firm, stable as any traditional rune.
"Nothing unusual so far," Adrian murmured, though his heart hammered against his ribs. The real test was coming.
He placed his palm above the completed rune. Raw mana flowed from his core, the kind that should have failed against any advanced inscription.
But the rune flared alive. Emerald light spilled across the desk, steady and strong, pulsing with healing energy that made the air itself feel restorative.
Adrian froze, staring at the impossible sight. The light reflected in his wide eyes, casting his face in green shadows.
Dorian rose from his chair so quickly it scraped against the floor. His weathered face, usually carved from granite composure, cracked open with pure shock. "Impossible. That rune should never have activated with your raw mana alone."
The old man's voice shook. In sixty years of runic study, he had never witnessed such a fundamental violation of established law.
"I know your affinity can mirror others based on the reports," Dorian continued, stepping closer to the glowing parchment. "But this... adding it to ink and having it work as a universal translator..."
Adrian kept his gaze fixed on the healing rune. The emerald glow pulsed like a heartbeat, proof of his success. His hands trembled slightly as the magnitude hit him.
He had done it. He had broken the affinity barrier that had limited humanity for generations.
"This changes everything," Adrian whispered, his voice barely audible over the rune's gentle hum. "Every Defender could use any rune, regardless of their natural affinity. All they need is enough mana to activate it!"