— As spoken in hushed reverence across the continent
"Let me tell you of the day the demons themselves knew fear."
Five years ago, when the skies burned crimson and the ground split beneath claw and steel, mankind prepared for its final stand. The demons marched in legions, rivers of black flesh and snarling maws, confident that no mortal wall could halt their advance.
Kingdoms trembled. Armies faltered.
Until he stepped onto the battlefield.
Noir van Astria.Duke among men. Calamity among demons.
He did not arrive with fanfare nor trumpet. No knights escorted him. No banners bore his crest.
He walked alone.
The wind dared not brush his cloak. The earth hardened beneath his feet as if kneeling.
Shadows stirred restlessly at his heels — not cast by light, but summoned by his will.
The demon vanguard roared and lunged—
They never reached him.
With but a wave of his hand, the shadows swelled like a great tide, swallowing steel, claw, and bone alike. No scream was heard — only silence, as though the world itself held its breath.
"One man," the soldiers whispered, trembling behind their shields."One man holds the line against ten thousand."
The demon general, a beast crowned in burning horns, towered above all. Its laughter cracked like thunder.
"Mortal," it bellowed, "Name yourself before I end you."
The duke's gaze lifted, as calm as still water.
"Noir van Astria."
They say even the sky darkened at those words.
And when the demon general fell — cleaved in two by a blade of pure shadow — the armies of hell turned and fled.
From that day forth, mothers warned their children:
"Do not speak his name in arrogance.""For if Noir van Astria walks again…""The demons will fall once more."
They say the war did not end by negotiation.
It ended because no one dared to continue.
When the sun finally rose, its light revealed a sight that would be etched into history:
A mountain of corpses — demons, humans, beasts, and creatures of unknown origin — all piled beneath the boots of one man. Their blades, claws, and fangs were still intact… yet none had managed to touch him.
He stood alone atop that horrific throne of death.
Not victorious.Not triumphant.
Simply… silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
And in that silence, both armies — human and demon — realized a terrible truth:
It mattered not who won the war.For if he chose to move again…All races would fall the same.
No messenger was sent.No envoy was planned.
The kings of men and the lords of demons raced to the negotiating table, not out of diplomacy, but out of survival.
They signed the treaty with trembling hands — not in ink, but in fear of Noir van Astria.
Never before had peace felt so fragile.
For all knew:
"The war did not end because we wanted peace…It ended because one man allowed it."
The battlefield, once a river of blood and fire, lay silent.
For a year, no man, no demon, no beast dared set foot in that cursed land.
And then… he acted again.
Noir van Astria, the Legendary Duke, walked the desolate plains, ensuring no trace of the carnage remained.
He burned the corpses — every single one — until the mountain of death was reduced to ash. Smoke rose in ghostly columns, drifting into the sky like mournful wraiths. Even the wind seemed to avoid the place, leaving it untouched by life… for now.
By the time the last ember died, nature had begun its quiet reclamation.
Grasses pushed through blackened soil. Trees sprouted along the edges. Small streams whispered over smooth stones, carrying the memory of a war no one could forget.
The territory became a haunted legend, a place both feared and avoided:
No army marched there.No traveler wandered there.The land itself seemed to bow to his shadow.
And so, the mountain of death became a mountain of life, yet every living soul remembered why it existed — the hand of Noir van Astria, stronger than any king, any god, any demon.
It was both a grave and a monument.
A silent warning, whispered across the lands:
"Do not step here. For the one who stood above all still watches… even in absence."
The battlefield had healed. The corpses had turned to ash. Nature quietly claimed its territory.
Yet the legend did not linger in the world.
Noir van Astria, the Duke who had stood above armies, who had ended a war single-handedly at the tender age of eighteen, never returned to his duchy.
Some say he walked away to atone for the lives he took. Others whispered that he feared the burden of his own power. But whatever the reason, he vanished completely—leaving behind nothing but stories, fear, and awe.
Kings, generals, and even demon lords would speak of him in hushed tones, as though saying his name too loudly might summon him from the shadows.
"The strongest ever lived among us… and then, he disappeared."
And so, the legend of Noir van Astria faded into whispers.
But legends never truly die.
All of this — the battlefield, the ash, the mountain of corpses, the vanished duke — was known not only through whispers, but through the eyes of one man: Archduke Rolash, heir to the human kingdom.
Even as a child, Rolash had witnessed the devastation firsthand. From the palace towers, he had seen the smoke rise, the armies fall, and the shadow of Noir van Astria move across the land like death itself.
Now, five years later, Rolash speaks in quiet reflection:
"No one truly understands what it means to face a being whose power surpasses kings and demons alike. We speak of him in stories, in cautionary tales… yet none of us dared to approach the truth. Not then, not now."
Rolash's voice carries the weight of history — and a subtle unease. For though the Legendary Duke vanished, the world had not forgotten. And those who survived whispered that someday, he might return.
From his palace balcony, Rolash watches the world turn, knowing that a single shadow can change the course of history… again
The fire crackled in the grand hall of the human kingdom. Outside, winter winds rattled the palace windows, but inside, warmth filled the room.
Archduke Rolash leaned back in his chair, his eyes reflecting the flames as he spoke softly to his young daughter.
"Do you want to hear the story of a boy who changed the world when he was only eighteen?"
The girl's eyes widened. She nodded eagerly, curling closer under the thick blanket.
Rolash's voice grew solemn, yet mesmerizing, as he began:
"Five years ago, the world was at war. Humans against demons, kingdoms against monsters… and no army could withstand the fury that walked alone among them."
"His name was Noir van Astria. Some call him the Legendary Duke. Others… simply call him death itself. He stood atop a mountain of corpses, and all who saw him—human or demon—knew there was no one who could challenge him."
The girl shivered.
"He was only a boy, my dear… just eighteen. Yet he ended a war by himself. No treaties, no armies—just his power. And then… he vanished. Never returned to his duchy. Some say he still walks in the shadows, watching the world."
Rolash paused, letting the story sink in.
"That is why every human and demon feared him. That is why the battlefields have grown over with grass and trees… because the strongest walked away and left the world to heal."
He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper:
"Remember this, little one. Legends are not born from tales alone—they are carved by the deeds of those who walk paths no one else dares tread. And one day, perhaps… you will see shadows moving where no one else can."
The fire crackled softly in the grand hall, casting warm light over the polished floors. Aria Rolash, the Archduke's young daughter, curled beneath a thick blanket, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Tell me again… about him," she whispered.
Archduke Rolash smiled, his expression solemn yet tender.
"Very well. Listen closely. This is the story of a boy who changed the world when he was only eighteen. Humans and demons alike feared him. His name was Noir van Astria… the Legendary Duke."
Aria leaned forward, imagining the battlefield, the shadows, the mountain of corpses. She shivered—not from cold, but from awe.
"He ended the war alone," Rolash continued."And then… he vanished. Never returned to his dukedom. Some say he still walks unseen among us, moving in the shadows. Waiting."
She hugged her knees, mind racing.
"Could he really be that strong?" she whispered.
"Stronger than any king or demon, my child," Rolash said softly."Remember this story. One day… you may see shadows where no one else can. And you will know the truth."
Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains as Aria Rolash stirred awake. She stretched, blinking sleep from her golden-brown eyes, and took a deep breath. Today was no ordinary day — she was finally traveling to the Royal Capital to attend the Magic Academy.
Pulling her cloak around her shoulders, she stepped into the polished carriage, the wheels rattling softly along the cobblestone road. Outside, the early morning mist clung to the hills, and the first rays of the sun painted the world in hues of gold and rose.
Aria pressed her hands lightly against the window, mesmerized by the scenery. Rolling fields stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with blooming flowers that swayed gently in the breeze. Rivers sparkled like ribbons of light, reflecting the awakening sky. Small villages bustled with morning life, smoke curling from chimneys and the distant laughter of children echoing through the valleys.
"It's… beautiful," she whispered to herself, her heart swelling with anticipation.
The rhythmic creak of the carriage wheels and the soft clip-clop of the horses' hooves seemed to match the beat of her excitement. For a moment, she felt as though the entire world was inviting her forward, carrying her toward a future filled with magic, mystery, and possibility.
The carriage rattled gently along the winding road, and soon the rolling fields gave way to dense, whispering woods. Aria pressed her face closer to the glass, eyes widening as the landscape shifted.
"Father said this was… where the war ended," she murmured softly, recalling the stories Archduke Rolash had told her so many years ago.
Before her stretched a vast forest, trees towering like silent guardians. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Moss and wildflowers carpeted the ground, and birds sang high above, reclaiming a battlefield that had once been soaked in blood.
Aria's fingers traced the windowpane.
"It's… peaceful," she whispered."I can hardly imagine a war ever happened here."
The forest seemed alive in its stillness. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible chill. Though nothing moved beyond the birds and the rustling trees, Aria felt a strange weight in the air, as if the land itself remembered the mountain of corpses, the shadows, and the boy who had ended it all.
"I wonder… did he really exist?" she murmured, her voice barely audible.
For a moment, the carriage seemed to slow, and the sun flickered through the leaves in strange, elongated patterns. Aria shivered, both from the cool air and an unexplainable sense of awe.
"One day, I want to see someone like him… someone who can make a difference," she whispered, her eyes scanning the forest that hid so many untold stories.
The carriage rolled steadily along the forest's edge, sunlight dancing through the leaves. Aria leaned against the window, lost in thought, when suddenly the horses whinnied and skidded, throwing the carriage into a sharp turn.
Her heart leapt.
"What's happening?!" she cried, clutching the blanket.
From the shadows of the trees, figures in dark, hooded cloaks leapt forward with blinding speed. They moved with the precision of trained killers, each wielding daggers and weapons marked with the insignia of a rival assassin nation.
The carriage driver yelped, struggling to rein in the panicked horses, but it was too late. The attackers surrounded them, cutting off any escape.
Aria's eyes widened in terror.
"W-we're… trapped!" she stammered, gripping the edge of the seat.
The assassins advanced silently, their movements deadly and precise. One even tossed a small smoke bomb at the carriage, sending tendrils of grey curling into the air. Panic surged through the passengers.
"Stay calm… stay calm," whispered the driver, but his hands shook.
Then, from the edge of the road, a shadow flickered. One figure stepped forward, calm and deliberate. He was tall, cloaked, and carried an aura that made even the assassins pause.
"Move," he said in a low, commanding voice.
It was Sajam.
The assassins faltered, sensing the silent threat. Shadows shifted subtly around him, coiling like living serpents, dark tendrils ready to strike.
No one spoke. No one dared move.
Aria's heart pounded, both from fear and from the strange magnetism radiating from this mysterious mercenary.
"Who… who is he?" she whispered, eyes wide.
The carriage lurched again as Sajam's shadow extended, swift and silent, incapacitating the nearest attackers with precision. One by one, the assassins fell — not a scream, not a flinch — until the road was clear.
Sajam straightened, shadows receding back into his cloak, leaving only a calm, unreadable figure.
"All of you, remain inside," he said, voice still low but unyielding."We are not safe yet."
Aria swallowed hard. She didn't understand how one man could handle so many deadly assassins alone, but a spark of awe and curiosity lit inside her.
"Who… who is he really?" she thought, unaware that this mysterious protector was the very legend her father had told her about, his true identity hidden from all.
The last assassin fell, sprawled on the forest path, but before Sajam could step forward, a shadow darker than the others darted from the trees.
A sudden gust of wind threw Aria from her seat. She screamed as rough hands grabbed her, dragging her into the dense undergrowth.
"No! Help! Someone help me!" she cried, struggling against their grip.
The forest swallowed her screams. The trees seemed alive, their branches twisting unnaturally, whispering in voices that made her skin crawl.
"This… this is the forbidden forest?" she gasped, remembering the stories Archduke Rolash had told her — the battlefield where humans and demons once fell in mountains of corpses, a place where no one dared tread.
The assassins ran swiftly, carrying her deeper into the forest. The air grew cold and heavy, and the faint stench of old blood lingered, despite years of nature reclaiming the land. Shadows stretched long between the trees, twisting into shapes that seemed almost alive.
"Why would they bring me here…?" Aria whispered, fear gripping her heart.
From a distance, Sajam watched, his cloak blending into the dimming light. His eyes narrowed, and a faint ripple of shadow flowed around him, sensing danger.
"The forest remembers," he murmured, almost to himself."And so do I."
Every step the assassins took brought them closer to the heart of the forest, to the very center of the battlefield where legends said the strongest had walked. Even Sajam hesitated slightly — not out of fear, but out of respect. The land itself carried the weight of history and power, and any careless move here could awaken forces best left undisturbed.
Aria looked around, realizing that the trees here were enormous, older than any she had ever seen, and the shadows thickened unnaturally.
"This is… terrifying," she whispered, hugging herself."Why would anyone go here willingly?"
But Sajam didn't hesitate. In the shadows, he was already moving. Every instinct, every muscle, every tendril of his shadow power coiled like a spring ready to strike.
The assassins dragged Aria deeper into the forest, their steps growing unsteady as the air thickened with an eerie silence. Even they — trained killers — hesitated.
"Something's wrong…" one muttered, glancing around nervously.
Before they could take another step—
Ssshhh—
A shadow flickered between the trees.
Then another.
The assassins froze. Their instincts screamed danger, but they couldn't see the source.
"Did you hear that—"
They never finished the sentence.
SLASH!
A black blur sliced through the air, faster than sound. One assassin collapsed without a cry, his weapon falling uselessly to the mossy floor.
"W-What was that?!"
They drew their blades, forming a circle around Aria, who trembled but kept silent. Her wide eyes darted from tree to tree, searching the darkness.
Suddenly, a cold voice echoed through the forest.
"You chose the wrong place to run."
The shadows moved.
Not like normal darkness — they curled like smoke, alive, slithering along the ground and up the trees, weaving around the assassins' legs faster than chains.
"Wh— Shadows?!"
One tried to escape, but something invisible yanked him back, slamming him into a tree.
Another slashed wildly — but his blade struck nothing.
A heartbeat later, a figure stepped out from the darkness.
Sajam.
His expression was calm. Unshaken. Eyes sharp as blades.
He didn't raise his weapon. He didn't need to.
The shadows themselves obeyed him.
"You entered a graveyard," he murmured."And the dead do not like intruders."
The assassins, hardened killers trained for blood, trembled.
Some tried to flee—
The shadows didn't let them.
One by one, they were dragged down, swallowed in darkness — silenced without bloodshed.
Aria watched in stunned disbelief, her heart thundering.
"What… what kind of magic is that?"
Even when the last assassin hit the ground, Sajam didn't turn.
He simply stood there, surrounded by the swaying shadows, like a king in his domain.
Slowly, he faced her.
Their eyes met.
Aria felt her breath catch — not in fear, but awe.
She didn't know who he was.
But deep in her heart, she sensed one truth:
He was not ordinary. He was something… far greater.
Silence fell once the last assassin collapsed.
But it didn't last.
The ground trembled — softly at first, then with a deep, rumbling groan like the earth itself was breathing.
Aria staggered back.
"W-What now…?"
Sajam's expression shifted — not to fear, but to quiet recognition.
Bones creaked beneath the moss. Cracks formed in the earth.
Then—
CLACK.
A bony hand burst through the soil.
Then another.
And another.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Skeletons, clad in rusted armor, swords still lodged in their ribs, shields dented from ancient battles — rose from their graves.
The assassins had trespassed on the final resting place of those who died in Noir's war.
Their hollow eye sockets burned with faint blue flame — echoes of vengeance.
The forest, once peaceful, now felt like a mass grave remembering its pain.
Aria trembled uncontrollably.
"T-They… they're undead! W-Why are they rising now?!"
Sajam stepped forward, placing himself between her and the approaching skeletal horde.
He didn't draw a weapon.
Instead, the shadows at his feet stirred, rising like mist.
He whispered one quiet word…
"Sleep."
His shadow expanded, swallowing the ground.
The skeletons froze mid-charge — then, one by one, their blue flames flickered… dimmed…
And went out.
Their bodies collapsed silently back into the soil, as though obeying an old king's order.
The forest fell silent once more.
Aria stared at him, breath caught in her throat.
"H-How… how did you do that?"
Sajam finally turned to face her — his expression unreadable.
"This place remembers its ruler."
She blinked.
"Ruler…?"
He looked at her — eyes dark as night.
"…Let's go. It's not safe to linger."
He offered his hand.
And though she didn't know who he really was—
Aria took it.
Aria wobbled as she stood. Her vision blurred. Her breathing grew shallow.
A cold numbness spread through her veins.
"W…why is it… so cold…?" she whispered, clutching her arm.
Sajam's eyes narrowed.
He knelt beside one of the fallen assassins and picked up a small, glistening needle embedded in Aria's cloak.
"…Poison."
Aria's knees buckled — she collapsed forward.
But before she hit the ground, Sajam caught her gently.
"Don't sleep," he said calmly, his voice firm but low."Stay awake."
She tried — but her eyelids felt heavy.
"I-I'm… sorry…"
Sajam didn't reply.
Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms — light as a feather — and turned deeper into the forest.
Not toward the exit.
Deeper.
Beyond where sunlight reached.
Beyond where animals dared tread.
Into the very heart of the forbidden forest — where no one in the world dared to step foot.
But for him…
It was home.
A Hidden Sanctuary
Time blurred for Aria.
Between consciousness and dreams, she saw vague glimpses — of crumbling stone pillars covered in vines, of ancient ruins swallowed by nature, of moonlight reflecting on still waters.
Finally, she felt a soft surface beneath her — a bed?
She forced her eyes open.
She was inside a stone hall, warm and dimly lit by blue crystals embedded in the walls. Strange symbols were etched into the floor — old, powerful, yet soothing.
Sajam knelt beside her, mixing herbs and dark liquid in a bowl.
"Where… are we…?" she whispered weakly.
He didn't look up.
"My home."
She blinked in disbelief.
"You… live here? In the forbidden forest…?"
He finally met her gaze, his expression unreadable.
"The world fears what it doesn't understand."
He dipped a cloth in the mixture and pressed it gently against her arm. It burned for a moment, but soon warmth spread through her, fighting the poison's chill.
Her vision cleared — just enough to see him clearly.
Sajam.
The mysterious mercenary.
Alone in a place where even monsters feared to tread.
"Who… are you?" she whispered.
He paused.
He didn't answer.
Instead…
"Rest," he said softly."You'll be safe here."
And for reasons she couldn't explain…
She believed him.
Aria's eyes snapped open.
For a moment, she stared at the ceiling — unfamiliar stone painted faintly blue by glowing crystals… then everything came rushing back.
Assassins. Forest. Poison. Shadow-man.—AND THE ACADEMY—
She shot upright.
"THE ENTRANCE CEREMONY!!!"
Her voice echoed through the ancient hall like a banshee's scream.
Sajam, who was grinding herbs at a nearby stone table, paused mid-motion.
Aria kicked off the blankets and tried to stand — only to wobble and crash back onto the bed.
"N-No no no! I CAN'T BE LATE ON THE FIRST DAY!"
She grabbed the bedpost, trying again to rise through sheer force of will.
Sajam watched silently for a moment, then said in his usual calm tone:
"You'll reopen your wounds."
"WHO CARES ABOUT WOUNDS WHEN MY ACADEMIC FUTURE IS ON THE LINE?!"
He blinked.
She attempted to march toward the exit — barefoot, half-dressed, and visibly dizzy. She made it three heroic steps before she swayed like a dying tree.
Sajam caught her again.
This was becoming routine.
"You're not leaving."
"WATCH ME!"
She glared up at him — stubborn fire in her eyes.
He met her glare with absolute stillness.
"You'd die halfway there."
"THEN I'LL DIE STUDYING!"
There was a long pause.
Then…
Sajam exhaled slowly — not quite a sigh, but close.
"...Stubborn girl."
Aria struggled against his grip, flailing like a furious kitten.
"Let go! I said I'm going to the academy!"
Sajam didn't move.
He simply looked at her — silently, steadily — until she finally paused for breath.
Then, in a low, unshaken voice, he said:
"You can't leave."
Aria froze.
"…What?"
His eyes didn't waver.
"This isn't just some forest edge. We're standing in the heart of the Forbidden Forest."
The words sank in slowly.
Aria blinked. Once. Twice.
"…The heart…? As in… middle? Middle-middle?"
"There isn't a place deeper than this."
Silence.
A bird cawed somewhere far away — then immediately shut up, as if even the wildlife knew better than to make noise here.
Aria swallowed.
"S-So… you're saying… if I walk in any direction…"
"You'll end up dead before you reach even the outer ring."
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"…That's cheating."
Sajam stared.
"Who lives in the center of a cursed forest like it's a vacation home?! Are you a hermit?! A cryptid?! A fungus?!"
"No."
"THEN WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?!"
Aria tried to wiggle out of his grasp again.
"I don't care if this is the middle of the forest — I'm leaving!"
Sajam didn't stop her this time.
He simply asked, in a calm voice:
"Think for a moment."
She paused, confused.
He continued.
"Those assassins… They weren't bandits."
"They were from the Assassin Guild. Which means—"
Aria's breath caught.
"—Someone hired them to kill me."
He nodded once.
Then he delivered the next blow:
"Do you know any magic?"
"…No."
"Any weapon skills?"
"…I hit my cousin with a broom once."
"Do you even know how to survive in a forest?"
"…I can boil water?"
Sajam stared at her.
Aria crossed her arms stubbornly.
"Don't look at me like that! I was supposed to learn at the academy!"
There was a long, heavy silence.
Then—
Sajam spoke quietly, but with finality.
"You step one foot outside this place, you die."
Aria tensed.
His voice softened — not warm, but firm.
"Until you can defend yourself… this forest is safer than the world outside."
She bit her lip.
Not willing to accept it.
But unable to deny it.
Sajam turned his back and began to walk away without another word.
For a heartbeat, Aria froze — then panic flared. She lunged after him, half-stumbling, half-shouting.
"Hey! Wait—"
He kept walking, shoulders steady, unmoved by her pleas. The hall's blue crystals hummed softly; the forest outside seemed to listen to the silence.
She scampered faster, breath ragged, dignity shredded.
"You can't just leave me here! I'm not staying—"
Sajam stopped. Slow. He didn't look angry; he looked tired, as if her stubbornness was a small, recurring irritation.
Then, with a motion as casual as drawing a hairpin, he produced a length of rope from a dark pouch at his hip.
"If you try to run again," he said, voice flat, "I will bind you until you agree to stay."
Aria blinked, mortified and furious. Her cheeks colored with equal parts indignation and embarrassment.
"You wouldn't dare!"
He cocked his head once.
"Try me."
There was an absurd moment where they simply stared at one another — her stubborn glare, his unbothered calm — and the distance between them felt smaller, charged.
Then Sajam stepped forward, rope still coiled in one hand, and shoved the other hand out as if offering a bargain.
"Or," he said quietly, "you can stay and learn. If you insist on leaving the world unprepared, I'll make sure at least your last breath is not wasted."
Aria scowled, chest heaving from fury and fright.
"You're detaining me?"
"I'm keeping you alive."
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Pride warred with sense.
Finally — with the sort of stubborn surrender only she could manage — she slammed her hands onto her hips.
"Fine. Train me."
Sajam's expression didn't shift into relief or triumph. Instead, the faintest hint of approval — nothing warm, only an almost imperceptible relaxation of his shoulders.
"Good. You'll start with how to not die from a thrown knife.""We begin at dawn."
Aria squared her shoulders like a small, determined soldier.
"At dawn, then."
He nodded once and turned away — not to leave this time, but to prepare the place for the lessons to come. The rope remained coiled on the table, both threat and promise, while outside the old stones of the forbidden forest held their breath.
Sajam paused, turning slightly.
His tone was flat, testing.
"Do you know magic? Any magic at all?"
Aria stiffened.
"...I-I can light a candle."
"With flint or with mana?"
"...Mana."
"Show me."
She puffed up proudly, raising her hand with great dramatic confidence.
A spark flickered at her fingertip…
…then fizzled.
Silence.
Sajam stared.
Aria coughed.
"It was humid."
He didn't blink.
"Congratulations. You have slightly surpassed a toddler."
"WHAT—!"
Aria puffed her cheeks angrily, but Sajam didn't bother arguing further.
Instead, he lifted his hand slightly.
His eyes changed.
From calm grey to deep, glowing indigo — like night sky condensed into a gaze.
Aria blinked.
"…Wh—what are you doing?"
"Looking."
A faint ripple of mana spread through the air — silent, gentle — brushing against her skin like cool mist.
She shivered.
Sajam's Mana Sight activated fully.
He saw beneath her flesh — into her mana pathways, the hidden circuits that defined a mage's potential.
And what he saw made him actually stop.
For the first time since she'd met him…
His eyes widened.
Just slightly — but enough to be real.
Aria froze.
"W-What? Is something wrong with me?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he spoke slowly — voice lower than before.
"Your mana veins… They're not just intact."
"They're… sealed."
Aria's breath caught.
"…Sealed? As in… blocked?"
He looked at her — truly looked.
"No. Not blocked."
"Restricted."
"By someone strong."
Sajam's gaze didn't waver. He studied her mana veins for a long moment, then shook his head slightly.
"Your mana veins are restricted. Conventional magic will not work for you."
Aria's shoulders slumped.
"So… I'm useless?"
"No." His voice was calm but firm. "There is something else you can use. Something far older than mana itself."
"…Something else?"
He extended a hand toward the faintly glowing crystals embedded in the walls of the hall.
"The Forbidden Forest is alive. Its essence flows through everything here. You can borrow from it — life, shadows, the energy between things."
Aria blinked, confused but intrigued.
"…So I can still… do magic?"
"Yes," he said, eyes cold but unyielding. "But only if you learn control. The forest will give you power… but it can also take your life."
Her pulse quickened. A mixture of fear and excitement danced inside her.
"Teach me," she whispered, determination breaking through her nervousness.
Sajam nodded once. Shadows flickered around him subtly, as if acknowledging the promise.
"Then we begin."
Sajam leaned slightly closer, his gaze piercing.
"Tell me," he said calmly, "what is mana?"
Aria blinked, startled by the sudden question.
"…Uh… magic? Power?" she guessed, frowning."It's… what mages use to cast spells, right?"
Sajam's lips twitched — almost a smirk, but not quite.
"Yes… but that is only part of it. Mana is energy — the life force you draw from within yourself and the world. It flows through veins, guides spells, fuels magic. Without control, it is useless. Without understanding, it can kill you."
Aria swallowed.
"So… I can't just wave my hands and do magic?"
"Correct," he said, voice firm. "You must know what it is, where it flows, and how to manipulate it. Most fail because they ignore these truths."
Aria's brow furrowed.
"And… what about me?"
Sajam's eyes narrowed as he studied her.
"Your veins are sealed. Conventional mana cannot flow. But there is… another source. Something older, stronger, and far more dangerous if mishandled."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"If you want to survive, you must learn to use it. Otherwise, you will never leave this forest alive."
Aria's heart raced. Fear, curiosity, and stubborn determination mingled inside her.
"Then… teach me," she whispered, resolute.
Sajam's expression didn't soften — it never did — but the shadows around him flickered faintly, as if acknowledging her decision.
"Good. We begin tonight."
Sajam's gaze stayed fixed on her, sharp and unblinking.
"Let me make this simple."
Aria tilted her head, curious.
"Mana is not magic itself. It is fuel. Energy. Like when you eat food — your body uses it to move, to think, to survive. Mana is what your body burns to cast spells."
Aria's eyes widened.
"…So… it's like food for magic?"
"Exactly." His tone was calm, almost teacher-like. "You need fuel to do magic. But fuel alone doesn't create skill. Without understanding and control, even an infinite supply of mana is useless."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"And you… your mana veins are sealed. Conventional fuel won't flow for you."
Aria frowned, processing the thought.
"…So I can't use magic like other students?"
"Not in the usual way." He gestured around the hall, at the glowing crystals, the forest outside, the very air pulsing with energy."But there is another source of fuel you can use… older, stronger… dangerous if uncontrolled. That is what will keep you alive here — and what I will teach you to wield."
Aria's chest tightened — a mix of fear, excitement, and stubborn determination.
"Then… teach me."
Sajam's expression didn't change, but the faint flicker of shadow at his feet seemed to acknowledge her choice.
"Good. First lesson: understand what your fuel is, and how to draw it without burning yourself alive."
Aria sat cross-legged on the stone floor, trying to focus. Her breaths came fast at first, uneven and panicked, but she forced herself to calm down.
"Okay… just… breathe… like he said… and draw the energy…" she muttered, hands resting on her knees.
She had no idea what "energy" truly meant. Mana didn't flow for her, conventional spells fizzled, and yet… she felt something — a faint warmth deep inside her chest.
Instinctively, she pressed her palms together and focused inward.
A strange vibration coursed through her body. Something coiled within her, waiting. Her hands tingled, her vision blurred for a moment, and a faint, glowing outline flickered around her torso.
"…What is this?!" she whispered, eyes wide.
Sajam stood silently a few paces away, shadows pooling around him. His expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes traced every movement.
"Interesting," he murmured quietly to himself. "She's attempting to open her chakra… naturally."
Aria had no idea what "chakra" was, but her body seemed to remember it instinctively — an energy pathway buried deep inside her, waiting for guidance.
She clenched her fists, trying to force the sensation outward, and a small ripple of energy flickered from her hands into the air, dissipating before it could form anything coherent.
"…I think I'm doing it!" she exclaimed, voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.
Sajam's gaze softened — just slightly — though his tone remained calm, measured.
"You are," he said quietly, stepping closer. "But this is uncontrolled. Chakra is not something you force. You guide it… nurture it… let it flow naturally, or it will break you."
Aria blinked, confused.
"…Break me?!"
"Yes. Energy like this is older than mana. Stronger. Dangerous. But it can keep you alive… and make you stronger than most mages you'll meet."
Her heart pounded. The warmth inside her chest grew, pulsing in rhythm with her quickened breath. She wanted to scream, to collapse, to run — but instead, she concentrated, letting her instincts guide her.
Sajam stepped back, letting her struggle silently. Shadows around him shifted like a protective barrier, ensuring nothing from the forest dared approach.
"Good," he muttered under his breath."If she survives this first trial… she may become extraordinary."
Sajam stepped forward, shadows curling lightly around his feet, the faint air of power pressing against the stones.
"Let me show you," he said, voice calm but commanding."This is what chakra can do."
Aria's eyes widened.
"…You mean… like magic?"
"No. This is older, stronger… life energy. Mana is fuel. Chakra is the pathway itself."
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his aura shifted. Shadows pulsed and twisted, intertwining with the faint glimmer of life in the hall.
Sajam lifted a hand. A small stone on the floor trembled. Then it lifted — slowly at first, then faster — spinning gently in midair as if drawn by an invisible force.
"W-wow…" Aria whispered.
He didn't stop there. With a subtle gesture, the stone shot forward, stopping just short of a pillar, suspended perfectly midair. Then, without touching it, he pressed his palm downward. The stone slammed into the floor with a loud crack, sending a small spray of dust into the air.
Aria flinched.
"…That's… incredible! How—"
Sajam's gaze softened, though still sharp.
"This is just the beginning. Chakra can move objects, manipulate energy, even heal or destroy. But it is dangerous — uncontrolled, it can tear you apart from the inside. That is why I will teach you slowly."
He bent down, his eyes meeting hers directly.
"Now, you try. Feel the energy, not force it. Let it flow where it wants to go. I'll guide you."
Aria's chest tightened, a mix of awe, fear, and stubborn determination.
"…I'll do it. I'll make it work."
Sajam didn't smile. He didn't need to. The shadows around him flickered in approval, and the hall seemed to hum faintly, as if acknowledging the beginning of her awakening.
Aria took a deep breath, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart.
"Okay… I can do this… maybe…"
She closed her eyes and focused on the faint warmth Sajam had shown her, the pulsing energy deep inside her chest.
"Let it flow… don't force it…" she whispered, echoing his earlier instructions.
Her hands hovered above a small pebble on the floor. The stone didn't move at first. She frowned and clenched her fists, unsure.
A faint glow ran along her veins — almost invisible — and the pebble twitched. Just a tiny quiver.
"…Wait, I did something!" she gasped.
Sajam's eyes narrowed, not in anger but in careful scrutiny. Shadows curled at his feet, soft and protective.
"Good… but control it. Don't let it escape your focus."
Aria concentrated harder. The pebble lifted a few inches — wobbly, unstable, but it was floating.
Her eyes widened in shock and excitement.
"…I'm doing it! I'm really doing it!"
Then, the pebble wobbled too much and shot forward, bouncing off a pillar and hitting the wall with a soft clink. Aria stumbled back, her balance nearly lost.
Sajam's voice cut through the tension, calm but sharp:
"Not bad for your first attempt. But power without control is dangerous. Focus, don't panic. Chakra flows where your mind guides it — not where your fear does."
Aria gulped, cheeks flushed, but determination burned in her eyes.
"…I'll get it right next time."
Sajam stepped closer, just far enough to observe, his expression unreadable.
"Good. Then we continue. This is only the beginning."
The air in the hall shimmered faintly as her energy settled, and for the first time, Aria felt hope and fear intertwine, knowing she had begun the path that would change everything — not just her magic, but her life.
A few days passed in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.
Aria's mornings began with meditation, focusing on the faint warmth of energy inside her chest. Her afternoons were spent practicing small movements — lifting pebbles, pushing leaves, even sending tiny pulses of energy into the air.
At first, the results were chaotic. Pebbles tumbled, leaves burst into small flashes of light, and Aria herself would stumble or collapse in exhaustion.
"Ugh… why can't I get this right?" she groaned, hair sticking to her sweat-damp forehead.
Sajam, ever silent, observed from the shadows, occasionally stepping in to adjust her posture or correct her breathing.
"Your focus wavers. Chakra is part of you — not separate. Flow with it, don't fight it."
Aria blinked.
"…Flow with it… okay…"
Hours later, she finally managed something remarkable: a small pebble hovered steadily before her, spinning gently as if obeying her mind. Her chest heaved with exhilaration.
"…I did it! I actually did it!"
Sajam's eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicked briefly toward her.
"Yes. But don't celebrate yet. Power without precision is dangerous. One mistake can injure you — or worse."
Aria pouted, but nodded.
"I'll be careful. I promise."
Night fell, and the glowing crystals of the hall reflected her tiny triumphs. Each day, she grew stronger, her chakra flow steadier, her confidence building — yet her energy remained wild, unpredictable, alive.
Sajam didn't offer praise. He didn't need to.
The forest itself seemed to notice her growth — shadows flickered softly around her, protective, almost acknowledging her determination.
By the end of the week, she could control several pebbles at once, manipulate a small burst of wind, and even light faint glimmers of energy along her fingertips.
"…I'm really getting it!" she whispered, grinning despite exhaustion.
Sajam remained silent, yet the faintest shift in the shadows around him suggested approval.
"This is only the beginning," he murmured, almost to himself. "She may yet surpass expectations… if she survives."
Aria stretched her arms and yawned, exhausted but satisfied after another long day of chakra training.
Sajam's voice cut through the quiet hall, calm but firm:
"I've prepared your meal. Go wash yourself. You haven't bathed in the past few days. Aren't you a noble?"
Aria froze mid-stretch.
"…W-What?!" she exclaimed, cheeks flushing red."I've been training! I don't have time for baths!"
Sajam didn't respond immediately. He simply stood there, arms crossed, shadow curling slightly at his feet.
"Time or no time, a noble — and a mage-in-training — maintains appearance. Hygiene is discipline. Discipline affects focus."
Aria blinked. She opened her mouth to argue… then closed it. His calm, unwavering gaze made her feel like a child caught doing something wrong.
"…Fine," she muttered, huffing. "I'll wash. But don't expect me to make small talk while soaking in water!"
"Good. Silence during bathing is expected," he replied flatly.
She scowled but dragged herself to the wash area. The water was surprisingly warm, the small hall set up with simple but effective amenities. She scrubbed vigorously, feeling both relief and embarrassment at being caught off guard.
When she returned, Sajam had already arranged a simple but hearty meal. The steam rose from bowls of stew and freshly baked bread.
"…You even cook?" she asked, astonished.
"I survive," he replied, voice as dry as ever. "You will too — after this lesson."
Aria bit her lip, trying not to laugh at his deadpan tone. For the first time since she arrived, she felt a flicker of warmth — not from magic, but from routine, guidance, and… strangely, safety.
"…I guess being trapped in the Forbidden Forest isn't all bad," she muttered, stealing a bite of the bread.
Sajam didn't respond, but the faintest curl of shadow around his feet seemed to acknowledge her small satisfaction.
Aria sat at the edge of the hall, still wiping her hands after the meal.
Sajam's gaze cut through the dim light of the hall, sharp as ever.
"Listen," he said, voice calm but commanding. "You've learned to sense your chakra and use it in small bursts. That is only the beginning. You need to master elemental chakra."
Aria's eyes widened.
"…Elemental… what now?"
"Chakra is the energy flowing through your body. Elemental chakra is the ability to shape it according to nature — fire, water, wind, earth, and more. Each element has its strengths and weaknesses. Mastery over them defines a mage's power."
Aria's mouth dropped open.
"…You mean… I can control fire? Or water? Like magic?"
"Yes," he said, voice measured. "But this is different. You are not borrowing energy. You are shaping it. One wrong move, and the energy can rebound on you. Or worse — harm the forest itself."
Aria clenched her fists, determination shining through her exhaustion.
"…I want to learn. Teach me."
Sajam nodded once, almost imperceptibly, then gestured toward a small clearing just beyond the hall, where sunlight broke through the dense canopy.
"Then we start with the simplest: elemental perception. Feel each element around you. Don't think about it — sense it. Fire burns, water flows, wind moves, earth supports. Find which element calls to you first."
Aria exhaled, closing her eyes.
She reached inward, feeling the warmth in her chest, the rhythm of her heartbeat, the faint pull of energy around her.
"Fire… warmth… wind… I can feel them…" she whispered.
Sajam's expression remained calm, but the shadows around him flickered slightly, as if the forest itself acknowledged her first real step toward elemental control.
"Good. Focus. Elemental mastery is not given. It is earned."
Aria nodded, heart pounding with excitement, fear, and stubborn determination.
"…I'll earn it."
Sajam's eyes softened — not with warmth, but with the faintest recognition of potential.
"Then begin. Your element will reveal itself if you are patient… and strong."
Sajam stepped closer, his shadow stretching across the hall like a silent warning.
"Listen carefully. Elemental mastery is difficult, but there is a shortcut. You can borrow energy directly from nature. Trees, wind, water, even the stones — all of it contains life force. If you meditate and focus, you will see it."
Aria tilted her head.
"…See it? How?"
Sajam's gaze didn't waver.
"Close your eyes. Breathe. Clear your mind. Let your chakra extend outward. If you are patient and focused, you will see small bubbles of light — each a different color, each representing a different element. Fire, water, wind, earth, and others… Choose one and pull it to yourself. Merge it with your own energy."
Aria's eyes widened.
"…Bubbles? Colors? That sounds… weird, but… okay, I'll try!"
She sat cross-legged on the stone floor, mimicking his posture, hands resting lightly on her knees. She inhaled deeply, focusing on the warmth in her chest.
Slowly, a faint vibration ran through her palms, her fingertips tingling. She squinted in concentration.
"…Wait… I think… I see something!"
A small, faintly glowing bubble floated before her, reddish-orange — warmth radiating from it.
"…Is that… fire?" she whispered.
Sajam nodded slightly, voice calm as ever.
"Yes. That is fire. Reach for it, merge it with your energy, but do not force it. Feel it, guide it, become one with it."
Aria hesitated for a moment, then slowly extended her hand. The bubble wobbled, brightened, and — with a trembling push — merged into her chest. A small surge of warmth spread through her, her heartbeat quickening.
"…I did it! I actually did it!" she gasped, eyes wide.
Sajam observed silently, letting her experience the moment fully.
"Good. This is only the beginning. Every element has a color, a flow, a personality. Learn to read them, or you will never control them properly."
Aria's grin widened, mixing excitement and determination.
"…I'll master them all."
Sajam's gaze flickered briefly to the forest beyond the hall — its shadows moving subtly, protective and watchful.
"Then begin. Nature will guide you… if you respect it."
Sajam stood silently, watching Aria focus.
"Good. You've sensed fire. Now, take every element the forest offers. Fire, earth, water, electric, dark, light, and wind. Don't rush. Feel them. Each has its own flow, its own color, its own personality. Merge them carefully with your energy."
Aria's eyes widened, overwhelmed by the task.
"…All of them? That sounds impossible!"
"Nothing in this forest is impossible if you focus. Start with one at a time."
She closed her eyes and reached outward, letting her awareness stretch into the forest around the hall.
A faint red-orange bubble floated before her — fire. She inhaled, merging it with her chest energy. A warmth spread through her.
Then a brown-green bubble appeared — earth. Solid, grounding, steady. She merged it carefully, feeling stability course through her limbs.
"…Okay… that's two…"
Next, a blue bubble appeared — water. Smooth, flowing, calming. She merged it and felt her mind clear.
A yellow spark flickered next — electricity, crackling with energy. She flinched slightly but forced control, letting the pulse integrate.
Then, two faintly contrasting lights: a soft white — light, serene and warm, and a deep purple — dark, mysterious and dense. She hesitated before merging them, feeling both calm and a strange tension inside her.
Finally, a greenish-silver bubble — wind. Agile, restless, free. She guided it carefully, letting it swirl within her chakra channels.
Aria opened her eyes slowly. Seven colors glowed faintly along her chest and arms, pulsing in harmony with her heartbeat.
"…I did it… all seven…" she whispered, awe and pride mixing in her voice.
Sajam's expression remained unreadable, but the shadows around him shifted slightly, almost approving.
"Well done," he said quietly. "Few can even sense one element, let alone all seven. But sensing is not mastery. You must control them. Harmonize them. Otherwise, the forest will reject you."
Aria's chest heaved.
"…I'll master them… I'll become strong enough to survive this forest!"
Sajam nodded once, shadow flickering like a silent guardian.
"Then begin your training. Each element will test your body, your mind, and your spirit. Fail, and it will hurt. Succeed, and it will empower you beyond imagination."
The forest outside seemed to pulse in response, as if acknowledging her determination and readiness. Aria's journey into elemental mastery had truly begun.
Sajam's voice cut through the quiet hall:
"Now, try to use all the elements at once — while working. You must control them together, not separately. Flow must be harmonious. Fire, earth, water, electric, dark, light, wind. Simultaneously."
Aria blinked, panic flashing in her eyes.
"…All at the same time?! I can barely control one!"
"That is why you train," he replied flatly. "This is the next step."
He gestured to several objects around the hall: a few stones, a small puddle of water, a flickering candle, and a tiny fan of leaves.
"Move them, shape them, guide them. Do not lose control."
Aria inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She visualized each element in her mind:
Red-orange fire — warmth and energy.
Brown-green earth — stability and grounding.
Blue water — calm and flowing.
Yellow electric sparks — sharp and dynamic.
Deep purple dark — dense and protective.
Soft white light — gentle and illuminating.
Greenish-silver wind — agile and free.
"…Okay… I can do this…" she whispered, voice trembling.
Slowly, she extended her hands. The candle's flame flickered and grew steadier. Pebbles hovered above the ground, stabilized by earth. Water rippled and formed small arcs in the air. Sparks danced carefully without striking her. Shadows deepened and light shimmered in her palms. Leaves twirled, caught in invisible wind currents.
"…I'm… I'm doing it…!" she gasped.
Sajam's gaze was sharp, observing every movement.
"Focus! If one element wavers, it disrupts the others!"
The wind picked up too fast, the water arcs sloshed, sparks crackled — and Aria staggered. The elements wobbled, threatening chaos.
"…No, no, no!" she shouted, teeth gritted, forcing herself to harmonize.
Her chakra pulsed, and slowly, the chaos stabilized. All seven elements danced in balance — controlled, alive, responsive to her intent.
She opened her eyes, astonished.
"…I did it! All seven… together…"
Sajam's lips twitched — the closest he ever came to a smile.
"Not perfect, but progress is progress. You have potential beyond expectation… if you survive the forest and yourself."
Aria's chest heaved. Exhaustion and exhilaration mixed. She grinned, determined.
"…I will master them. Every element… every color… I'll control them all!"
Sajam nodded once, shadow curling protectively around him, silently acknowledging her determination.
Sajam's gaze cut through the dim hall, calm but commanding:
"Enough practice. Now, try to cast a spell. Use the elements you've learned — fire, water, earth, wind, light, dark, electric — all of them if you can. Make it coherent. Make it flow."
Aria's heart skipped.
"…A spell? I… I don't even know how to start!"
"Stop thinking. Feel. Let the elements respond to your intent. Your goal is the spell. The elements are the means."
Aria closed her eyes and focused. She pictured a small protective barrier, a simple spell she could test safely. She extended her hands slightly, palms facing outward.
"Fire to heat… water to stabilize… earth to anchor… wind to circulate… light to illuminate… dark to protect… electric to energize…" she whispered under her breath.
A faint shimmer appeared between her palms. Sparks of color pulsed — reds, blues, greens, yellows, purples, whites, silvers — all swirling together.
"…I-I can feel it… it's working…"
The colors converged, spinning into a small orb of energy. It hovered steadily, pulsing rhythmically. Aria held her breath.
Then, slowly, she whispered the final intent:
"Protect."
The orb expanded slightly, forming a translucent barrier of swirling colors around her. It shimmered, steady and alive, radiating energy but perfectly controlled.
Aria's eyes flew open, astonished.
"…I did it! I cast my first spell!"
Sajam's shadowed face tilted slightly, eyes narrowing — not in anger, but in careful observation.
"Not bad… for a first attempt. The spell is crude, unstable, but it worked. With refinement, you could cast far stronger magic."
Aria's grin widened, mixing relief and excitement.
"…I'll make it stronger. I'll master every spell I can!"
Sajam didn't smile, but the faint flicker of shadows around him shifted, almost approvingly.
"Good. That is the path of a mage who will survive… and surpass ordinary limits. Now, continue. Control, repetition, perfection — until the forest itself recognizes your power."
A few days had passed since Aria cast her first spell.
Each morning began with meditation, feeling the subtle pulse of the forest energy around her. By afternoon, she was practicing elemental control, lifting multiple objects at once, guiding swirling currents of fire, water, wind, and even the more elusive light and dark energies.
"…Focus, breathe, merge…" she whispered, sweat dripping from her forehead.
At first, mistakes were frequent: stones slammed into the walls, water arcs spilled everywhere, small sparks crackled unpredictably.
But with each failure, she adjusted, her movements growing smoother, her chakra flow steadier.
Sajam watched silently from the shadows, arms crossed, eyes scanning every twitch, every falter. Occasionally, he stepped in, adjusting her posture or giving a short, precise instruction.
"Too much force on wind — it will disrupt the other elements.""Dark energy is dense; do not force it. Flow with it.""Good… now combine fire and electric. Feel the spark."
By the third day, her control had improved remarkably. She could float multiple pebbles, send arcs of water across the hall, swirl flames around her hands, and even generate a faint barrier of colored energy.
Aria wiped her brow, exhausted but exhilarated.
"…I can feel it… the forest, the energy… I can actually control it!"
Sajam didn't respond immediately, but the faint flicker of shadows around him shifted — a subtle acknowledgment of her progress.
By the fifth day, he pushed her further.
"Now, combine all seven elements in one controlled spell — and maintain it while moving. Think. Plan. Flow."
Aria's pulse quickened. The task seemed impossible, but she took a deep breath, letting the elements align within her, guiding them with precision.
A rainbow-colored aura shimmered around her hands as pebbles, leaves, water arcs, sparks, and light and dark energies all moved in harmony, swirling around her like a living spell.
She faltered once — a spark went wild, a leaf spun too fast — but she corrected it instinctively.
"…I… I did it…" she whispered, amazed at herself.
Sajam's eyes narrowed — not in criticism, but in careful approval.
"You are learning faster than expected. But remember… control is only the beginning. You must master flow, reaction, and instinct. Only then will your true potential awaken."
Aria's chest heaved, a mixture of exhaustion and pride.
"…I'll keep going. I'll master it all, no matter what."
The forest around them pulsed faintly, leaves rustling, shadows shifting — as if it, too, recognized her determination.
The clearing beyond the hall was quiet as a held breath. Moonlight threaded through the trees, painting the ground silver. Sajam stood at the edge, shadow pooling at his feet like a dark cloak, watching her with that unreadable stare.
"This is your last training," he said. "If you pass, you leave the forest alive. If you fail… you will learn why the world fears this place."
Aria swallowed. Her palms were slick. For a moment the bravado slipped away; she was nothing but a girl with a pulse and stubbornness.
"I'm ready."
He nodded once, then stepped back.
From the trees, something moved — slow at first, then with a creaking chorus. The ground itself answered: roots split, earth heaved, and from the leaf-litter rose shapes of bark and bone. Not the neat skeletons from before, but war-formed constructs — half-wood, half-bone — animated guardians of the battlefield's heart. Their hollow eyes glowed faintly with old blue fire.
Seven of them circled the clearing, each one exhaling a different aura: heat, damp soil, cold wind, electricity crackle, a dim hush, a soft glow, and restless gusts. They tested her with presence alone.
Aria breathed in, centered on the slow pulse in her chest — the chakra Sajam had taught her to feel. She called to the forest, letting her awareness bloom outward, finding the same colored bubbles she'd summoned in practice. This time, the elements were not obedient toys but living forces with weight and will.
She started with fire — a controlled warmth that licked at her fingertips. Fire answered, a red-orange stream blooming into a whiplash of flame around her wrist. Earth followed: she planted her foot, felt soil climb up through her soles, and raised a ridge of rock between her and the nearest construct. Water curled, an arc that washed over the earth, smoothing and bending it into a slick trap. Wind circled, sharp and slicing, carrying scent and sound. Electric sparks danced along her fingertips, ready to snap. Light braided with dark, creating a living veil — light to reveal, dark to conceal, each balancing the other.
She moved.
Elemental ballet — a pebble spin here, a gust of wind to shift a construct's weight there. An enemy lunged: arm of bark and rib shoving forward. Aria answered with a storm of elements. Wind torqued the limb; earth yanked its base; fire scorched the joints; water slicked its hold so it slipped; light exposed a hidden hinge; dark pressed around its eye like a blindfold; electric shocks stuttered through the metal-sapped fiber.
One by one, the constructs faltered.
But the final guardian was different. It stepped forward with slow deliberation, its aura not one element but a clash — a corruption born when too much blood and magic meet. It struck like a giant club of bone and root. Aria mis-stepped; her chakra wavered.
"No!" she breathed, panic spiking.
Sajam's voice was a soft thread in the clearing — not a shout, but a tether.
"Breathe. Flow. Don't force it."
She swallowed, felt the rhythm find her again. The seven colors in her chest steadied. She let panic transmute into focus.
This time she moved differently: not seven separate commands but a single intention. She drew the elements in a spiral — earth as the anchor, water as the lubricant, wind as the shaping force, fire as the binder, electric as the ignition, dark as the seal, light as the final flare. The energy coalesced into a spear of swirling color.
She thrust.
The spear struck true, burying into the construct's core. Light flared white-hot while dark pressed like a hand, binding the wound shut. Electricity arced through, collapsing the construct's animating spark; water sizzled where it met fire; wind carried the final echo away. The guardian crumbled into quiet mulch and dust.
Aria fell to her knees, breath heaving, limbs trembling with spent power.
Silence reigned for a long second — then the forest exhaled, as if acknowledging her. The moon seemed to shine brighter, the crystals in the hall throwing back a softer glow.
Sajam stepped forward, though he didn't approach too close. He watched her with the same unreadable mask, but tonight there was less hardness in it.
"Not perfect," he said, voice low. "But effective. You kept your mind when you needed it. You harmonized. That is the key."
Aria laughed — a small, exhausted sound. She looked at her hands, where the seven colors still fluttered faintly. For the first time, she felt the forest's approval as something warm rather than threatening.
Her legs wobbled; Sajam moved before she could fall, catching her arm.
"Thank you," she managed, breath ragged.
He nodded once. No flourish. No praise. But the shadow at his feet shifted, gentle as a protective hand.
From the trees, a whisper drifted — part wind, part memory — and Aria imagined it said, "Welcome."
Sajam looked away, toward the path that led out of the heart of the forest.
"You'll leave soon," he said. "Go to your Academy. Learn what you can there. But remember this: the forest gave you power because it saw something worth tending. Don't waste it."
Aria met his eyes, fierce and grateful.
"I won't."
As they walked back to the stone hall, the moon watched them, and the clearing — once a graveyard and now a proving ground — settled into peace. The final training was over, but the real journey had just begun.
The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy, painting the hall in soft gold. Aria stretched, feeling the soreness in her limbs — the echoes of yesterday's battle still lingering, but a smile tugged at her lips.
Sajam stood silently near the edge of the hall, cloak brushing the stone floor, shadow pooling at his feet as always.
"Shall we go?" he asked, voice calm.
Aria's eyes widened.
"…Go? Already? But… I've barely had breakfast!"
"We leave now," he said simply. "You'll need focus and rest during the journey. Teleportation will be quicker than walking — but preparation is key. Hold your chakra steady. Do not panic."
Aria nodded, taking a deep breath. She reached inward, feeling the familiar pulse of her seven colors, aligning them with the flow of the forest energy.
Sajam extended one hand toward the clearing beyond the hall. A ripple of shadow spread from his feet, stretching across the ground like liquid night. The air shimmered, leaves twisting, sunlight bending as the forest seemed to fold upon itself.
"Focus," he instructed. "Don't think. Flow with me."
Aria gripped her hands together, heart pounding. She felt the tingling pull of displacement, a sensation like wind rushing through her veins.
"…I-I'm ready," she whispered.
Sajam's shadow flickered, curling upward, and with a faint gesture, the world around them blurred. The trees, the hall, the stones — everything stretched and twisted as if viewed through water. Then, in a heartbeat, they were gone.
When Aria opened her eyes, she found herself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the dense trees behind her and open plains ahead. The royal carriage awaited, horses snorting and harnesses glinting in the morning light.
"…We're here?" she breathed, awe and slight vertigo mingling in her chest.
Sajam's gaze swept the horizon, unreadable as ever.
"Yes. From here, you travel the rest of the way to the Academy. Remember what I've taught you — control, harmony, instinct. The world outside the forest is unforgiving. Do not underestimate it."
Aria straightened her back, determination blazing in her eyes.
"…I won't. I'm ready for whatever comes next."
Sajam nodded once, shadows shifting like a protective barrier. He didn't offer a smile — not yet — but the air around them seemed to hum faintly, a quiet acknowledgment of her growth.
With a deep breath, Aria stepped forward toward the carriage, feeling the pulse of her seven-colored chakra settle into a steady rhythm.
The journey to the Academy had begun.
The breeze at the edge of the forest was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and old magic. Aria stood by the waiting carriage, her hands clenched at her sides. She glanced back at Sajam, who remained a step within the shadow of the trees, as though the forest itself wouldn't let him go.
"…You're not coming with me?" she asked softly.
His cloak stirred, but his face remained hidden.
"I can't. This forest holds me still. But…"
He reached into the folds of his cloak and drew out a small necklace. It was simple yet striking — a dark crystal pendant threaded on a silver chain. Within the crystal, faint shadows swirled like smoke caught in glass.
Sajam held it out to her.
"Take this."
Aria blinked, hesitating before accepting it. The crystal was cool and oddly heavy, humming faintly against her palm.
"…What is it?"
"A tether," he said quietly. "If you ever need help — real help — pour your dark chakra into it. No matter where you are, I'll come."
Aria's eyes widened.
"…You'd come? Even outside the forest?"
His shadow shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his expression.
"Even then. But don't waste it. Use it only when it matters most."
She looked at the pendant again, fingers curling tightly around it.
"I will. I promise."
For a moment, the air between them felt heavy — not with fear, but with unspoken words. Sajam, the stranger who'd saved her, trained her, and changed her, was still an enigma. Yet now she carried a piece of him.
"Go," he said at last, his voice low but steady. "The Academy awaits. The world will test you. Show it what you've learned."
Aria nodded, slipping the necklace around her neck. It settled against her skin, cool and comforting.
"…Thank you, Sajam. For everything."
He said nothing, but the shadows around him deepened, and for a moment she thought she saw a faint, almost-smile.
She stepped into the carriage. The driver flicked the reins, and as the wheels began to roll, Aria kept her eyes on the forest edge until Sajam's figure melted back into the shadows.
The pendant pulsed faintly once, like a heartbeat.
The carriage disappeared beyond the edge of the forest, wheels crunching softly on the path. Sajam remained standing, cloaked in shadow, every muscle taut yet still.
He whispered into the stillness, voice low and rough:
"Forest… why did you let me save her that day?"
The wind rustled the trees, carrying the faint scent of moss and ancient soil, as if the forest itself was listening. The shadows shifted around him, curling and coiling like living smoke.
"Damn it… why does it feel… warm?" he muttered, voice tight."All these years… I've never felt anything. No fear, no joy… no… attachment. And now… this?"
Sajam's hand clenched, the dark aura around him flickering, unsteady — an unfamiliar disturbance in his calm.
"Why now… after all this time?"
He looked toward the forest clearing where Aria had stood, imagining her small, determined form. Even though she was gone, even though she was safe with the carriage, a strange pull tugged at his chest.
"This… warmth… this feeling… it's… her, isn't it?"
For the first time in years, the legendary duke — the strongest, coldest warrior known to humans and demons alike — felt something he could not name.
The forest whispered back in rustling leaves and shifting shadows, an echo of life and magic.
Sajam gritted his teeth, almost angry at himself.
"No… I don't… I can't… I'm not supposed to feel… emotions. I am a weapon, a shadow, a legend. Not… this!"
But the warmth lingered, deep in his chest, and for the first time, he allowed himself to acknowledge it.
"…Damn it, Aria… why do you make me feel like this?"
The forest sighed, ancient and eternal, and the shadows around him deepened, protective — almost knowing.
Sajam turned away, disappearing back into the dark heart of the forest, carrying with him a feeling he had never experienced before — a flicker of attachment, of concern, of warmth — a tether stronger than any magic he had ever known.
Sajam stepped deeper into the forest, shadows curling around him like a cloak of memory and regret. His chest still burned with the strange warmth he could not name.
"…I can't love her," he muttered, voice rough as gravel."I… I mustn't. No one… no one can get close to me. Not her. Not anyone."
He walked slowly, as though each step measured the weight of centuries of solitude compressed into a single moment.
"She is… alive, naive, stubborn… bright. And yet, I am darkness. I am a shadow that leaves nothing but death in its wake. I've seen kingdoms fall, battles won and lost, lives ended in my presence… I cannot touch her life with that."
The forest around him whispered, leaves rustling like quiet voices in the night. Sajam clenched his fists.
"I've trained her, saved her, guided her… but to let myself care for her… that would be selfish. Dangerous. I cannot risk it. Not her. Not anyone."
A faint pulse from the necklace he had given her — a memory of the warmth she carried — made the shadows flicker.
"…And yet… why does it hurt to stay away?"
He turned toward the heart of the forest, dark eyes scanning the endless canopy.
The forest fell silent once more, leaves rustling softly in the morning breeze.
Aria had left, carrying with her the lessons, the struggles, and the power she had earned. The pendant around her neck pulsed faintly, a tether to a shadow she could neither see nor fully understand.
Sajam remained within the heart of the forest, cloaked in shadow, watching the path she had taken. A strange warmth lingered in his chest — a feeling he had never known in all his years, all his battles.
"…I can't love her… and yet… why does it feel like this?"
He gritted his teeth, turning back to the forest that had been both his prison and his sanctuary.
"I will protect her. Always. From afar. But nothing more."
For now, the forest held its secrets, and so did he.
The sun climbed higher, scattering light across the battlefield-turned-sanctuary. The final lesson had ended. The real journey — one of danger, discovery, and destiny — had only just begun.
And somewhere, beyond the edge of the trees, Aria traveled toward the Academy, unaware of the shadow watching over her, or the heart that ached silently in the forest.