Mana.
The word echoed in Alistair's mind as the current seeped into him, brushing against his skin before sinking into his veins. For the first time, he could sense it—not as an idea, not as a distant dream, but as a living force that moved through the world. His body trembled. His violet eyes narrowed, burning with anticipation.
He lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs. From what he remembered, to become an Initiate, one had to guide this new energy into the dantian, slowly filling it until the vessel overflowed and broke through. That moment of breaking was the true first step on the path. Most took a year, sometimes more. Thalia had done it in three months—enough for the world to call her a genius.
Alistair's lips curved into a thin smile, but his expression soon twisted into bloodlust as old memories surfaced. He remembered when whispers had spread that his sister should marry their uncle—not only to grant him power, but because his talent was second only to Thalia's and their parents'. The idea of producing a more gifted heir through such a union had enraged Thalia to no end. The next day, the man who dared voice that suggestion was found dead. Everyone knew it was her doing, yet none dared accuse her. That was Thalia: brilliant, ruthless, and terrifying, just like their mother. But she could not strike her uncle—not yet. He had been too powerful, and after their parents' disappearance, the family had needed every shred of strength.
Alistair closed his eyes as mana began to swirl around him, and it felt as though the very world favored him. Calmness washed over him, refreshing and steady. Normally, a cultivator had to force mana into the dantian with effort and endure the pain that came with it until their body adapted. For Alistair, however, the flow was smooth—requiring almost no effort, and with none of the suffering others endured at the start of their path. He thought to himself, So this is the effect of an SSS talent.
Alistair inhaled deeply, letting mana gather within him. He would not take a year. He would not even take months. His dantian pulsed faintly, waiting to be filled, and he swore it would not be empty for long.
—
Far from the shack, the Ash Serpents' headquarters loomed over Grey Terminal. Once a noble's warehouse, it had been remade into a fortress of rotting wood and reinforced stone. Lanterns burned at every window, casting sickly orange light across the wet streets. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and the smell of cheap liquor.
Two men stumbled inside. One still clutched his ribs, the other carried his unconscious companion—the one who had tried to rob Alistair and failed. Their faces were pale, their eyes flicking nervously as they were led up creaking stairs. They stopped at the office of their immediate superior, stammering as they explained what happened.
Their superior listened in silence, his expression unreadable. Then he rose and walked up another flight of stairs to the highest level of the headquarters. There, at the top, stood a heavy double door carved with serpents. He stood stiff before it, every breath tight in his chest, until a gravelly voice from within called, "Enter."
The door groaned open. The atmosphere inside pressed down like a storm about to break. At the far end of the room stood the boss of the Ash Serpents: Varin Krael. His frame was broad, his dark coat lined with fangs and scales, his eyes sharp and hungry. Behind him, the windows opened onto the slums below, as though he stood watch over a kingdom of ash and mud.
"Purple eyes, you say," Varin murmured after hearing the report. His lips curled into a grin. "Perhaps… could it be?" He did not finish the thought, but his gaze sharpened with interest.
"Dusk," he called.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows. Nineteen years old, tall and broad-shouldered, with raven-dark hair streaked faintly silver at the tips with amber eyes, he carried himself with a quiet, regal poise that seemed at odds with the slums.
Kaelen was an Initiate, an aura user who had carved his way up from nothing to become one of Varin's enforcers. In combat, he was not exceptional, but his trait—Predator's Instinct—made him invaluable. His senses were keen, and his ability to track was exceptional.
"Find this boy," Varin said, voice low and commanding. "Bring him to me alive."
Kaelen inclined his head. "As you command."
—
Rain-soaked earth clung to Kaelen's boots as he tracked. He returned to the alley where the two gang members had been humiliated. Crouching low, he touched the ground, inhaling faintly. The scent was there. Faint, but real. He followed it, his senses sharpening, his body moving with animal precision.
The trail led him away from Grey Terminal's heart, out toward its broken edges. The storm from nights ago had left the ground heavy with water, and scents muddied into one another. For a moment, Kaelen frowned, wondering if the prey had known he would be tracked. He looked around, then his gaze locked on something: branches bent, grass pressed flat, a path carved almost unconsciously by movement.
He followed it for ten minutes until the shack came into view. Hidden at the forest's edge, it looked like nothing. But Kaelen did not trust appearances. He circled slowly, keeping low, until a sudden pull froze him in place.
There, at the back of the shack, sat Alistair Vale.
Mana swirled visibly around him, thick enough that even an unawakened could see it. His body drank it in with unnatural speed, like a whirlpool pulling in a river. Kaelen's eyes widened, his breath caught. He remembered his own path: one year to reach Initiate, and still stuck there. Many never advanced beyond it. Some spent decades, others their entire lives.
But this boy—no, this monster—looked as if he would break through in weeks.
Perhaps even days.
Kaelen gritted his teeth, every instinct torn between fear and awe.
—
As Alistair continued to cultivate in peace, unaware of the intruder watching him, a soft chime echoed in his mind.
[Ding! Soul Vassal Candidate identified.]
Alistair's eyes opened narrowly, his violet gaze pulsing with something otherworldly.