Owen woke before the sun.
Not because of a nightmare but because he simply just felt like it.
He dressed quietly and stepped outside, Seishi already in hand. Reinhardt was waiting at the edge of the forest, arms crossed, chewing on something he probably shouldn't have been chewing that early in the morning.
"Took you long enough," Reinhardt said. "Thought I'd have to drag you out of bed."
"I slept fine," Owen replied.
Reinhardt raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? That's new."
They walked deep into the forest, far enough that the air felt thicker, older. Mana flowed freely here wild, unclaimed. Reinhardt stopped in a small clearing and turned to face Owen.
"Alright," he said. "Mana 101."
Owen listened.
"Most people have mana," Reinhardt began. "Not much. Barely enough to warm their hands or sharpen their senses. Training takes years. Decades sometimes. Mana grows with you, it becomes an extension of your breathing, your will."
He tapped Owen's chest. "You don't command it. You live with it as one."
Owen nodded slowly.
"Elemental affinities?" Reinhardt continued. "Rare. And usually disappointing. Ninety five percent of the time, it's weak. Flickers of flame. A breeze at best."
He smirked. "Then there's the other five percent."
Owen felt the shift in the air.
"Gifted," Reinhardt said. "And inside that five percent? Monsters."
Owen hesitated. "Cedric…?"
Reinhardt chuckled. " Divine light manipulation. Pure, clean, stupidly efficient, and most of all its ancient."
Owen blinked. "Figures."
"He's the youngest Royal Division lieutenant for a reason," Reinhardt added. "The kid's terrifying. But his commander is a force to be reckoned with, Harold Helstia. Joined with Cedric and climbed through the ranks faster than him. Termina's Prodigy. Element: HELL FLAMES."
Owen was quiet for a moment, then asked, "How do I find mine?"
Reinhardt shrugged. "You just do something mana related.."
"…That's it?"
"That's it."
Owen frowned. "That's not helpful."
Reinhardt grinned. "Good. Means you'll think."
Owen closed his eyes.
And thought.
Stonehaven.
Rain. Screams. The beast's roar cutting through the air like thunder.
The moment it attacked.
The moment he raised his hand.
And it was gone.
Not cut. Not torn apart.
Erased.
Owen opened his eyes.
"…Reinhardt," he said slowly. "When someone uses mana… do they usually feel like they're pushing something out?"
"Yeah," Reinhardt replied. "Why?"
"…I didn't."
Reinhardt's smile faded.
"What did it feel like?"
Owen lifted his hand.
"Like the world around it stopped agreeing that something should exist."
The forest went quiet.
Reinhardt inhaled sharply. "Do it again."
Owen hesitated. "I don't know how."
"Good," Reinhardt said. "That means it's real."
He stepped back. "Reach out with your mana. Don't shape it. Don't force it. Just… deny."
Owen swallowed.
Mana flowed, dark, heavy and silent.
The light around him dimmed, not swallowed, but bent. Shadows didn't grow longer, they grew deeper, folding inward.
The space in front of Owen trembled.
Not cracked.
Compressed.
A leaf drifting through the air suddenly… vanished.
No sound.
No residue.
Just absence.
Reinhardt's breath caught.
"…Darkness," he murmured. "No, wait."
The shadows weren't moving like darkness.
They were curving.
Space itself bent inward, collapsing where Owen's mana touched it, folding reality into a point that refused to exist.
Reinhardt laughed, it was low, stunned, almost reverent.
"You're not manipulating darkness," he said. "You're using it as a veil."
Owen's eyes widened.
"Your real affinity," Reinhardt continued, voice sharp with excitement, "is spatial manipulation."
Owen exhaled. "…interesting."
"But," Reinhardt added, grin returning, "the way you do it?"
He pointed at the warped air.
"That's not light. Not fire. Not wind."
He met Owen's eyes.
"That's darkness not as an element, but as a concept. Absence. Denial. The space where things stop being allowed. It's like it wasn't meant to be part of you. No, its more like it was given to you."
Owen's mana settled.
The forest breathed again.
"…So what does that make me?" Owen asked quietly.
Reinhardt laughed and clapped him on the back.
"A problem," he said cheerfully. "A very big one."
"Alright, that's enough for to day. You should head over to Aldric's office" Reinhardt said suddenly "He says he found something about the incident."
That was all Owen needed to here. He turned suddenly and walked back to the estate immediately without another word.
The moment Owen stepped into Baron Aldric's office, the smell of ink and old parchment hit him. Stacks of documents littered the desk like they were holding the place together by sheer will. Aldric himself was buried in them, sleeves rolled up, eyes tired but sharp.
When he noticed Owen, he stood up immediately.
"You look better than I expected," Aldric said, forcing a small smile. "How have you been these past three months?"
Owen didn't hesitate. "It's been difficult," he replied flatly. "I'm hanging on to whatever scraps of sanity I've got left."
Aldric chuckled quietly, though there was no humor in it. "Then we're not so different. I spend ninety percent of my life in this office for the same reason."
That made Owen pause.
"How do you deal with it?" he asked. "The grief… of losing someone."
Aldric didn't answer right away. He walked back to his chair and sat down slowly, fingers interlacing.
"You don't," he finally said. "Grief doesn't disappear just because you want it to. It only leaves when the dead are at peace… and when the living are too."
The room fell silent. Owen said nothing.
After a moment, Aldric straightened. "Now. Business."
He gestured for Owen to sit. "Tell me everything. From the letter. Don't leave out a single detail."
Owen explained it all. The sudden summon. The urgency. How wrong it had felt in hindsight. When he finished, Aldric leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
"What do you think?" Aldric asked. "Does any of it feel… off to you?"
Owen's gaze dropped to the coffee table.
His fists clenched.
Mana flared.
The temperature in the room seemed to dip as Owen's eyes widened, pupils dilating unnaturally. When he looked back up, his expression had twisted into something sharp, unhinged—almost feral.
"It was a setup," Owen said. His voice was low, trembling with restrained madness. "They wanted to show me how strong they really were."
Aldric's expression hardened. "I thought you might say that."
He exhaled slowly. "Cedric returned with a report from the Royal Knight Division corpse. There's an organization operating in the shadows-Garten der Schatten."
Owen didn't blink.
"They're classified as a top-level threat to the kingdom," Aldric continued. "Most people don't even know they exist. At their core are ten of their strongest leaders The Ten Shadows. Beneath each Shadow are ten elite commanders and lieutenants known as The Decagram."
Aldric's fingers tightened against the armrest. "They have influence among nobles. Real influence. Territories. Outposts. One of those outposts… is in Stonehaven."
The air around Owen warped.
"The Fourth Shadow," Aldric added grimly, "has an obsession with mana beast experimentation. If you're looking for a culprit, he's your target."
Owen laughed.
Not loud. Not joyful.
Maniacal.
"I don't care," he said, eyes burning. "One person. Ten people. The entire organization. It doesn't matter. I'll erase all of it."
Aldric shot to his feet. "Are you thinking straight ?!"
Owen snapped back just as hard. "I'll die if I have to. If wiping them out costs my life, I'll pay it gladly."
"Think!" Aldric barked. "Do you seriously believe you can do this alone? You'd be killed before you ever reached their core!"
"I've fought powerful beasts without mana," Owen roared back. "I've gone on missions alone. What difference does it make if now I can use this power properly to its maximum extent?I never asked for this in the first place!"
The words hit harder than the shout.
Aldric froze.
Owen had never raised his voice at him before.
Before either of them could speak again, the office door burst open.
"My lord!" a servant cried, pale and shaking. "There's-"
Owen stiffened.
An immense pressure rolled through his senses. Mana. Dense. Overwhelming.
At the same time, far away in his room, Seishi hummed calling to him.
Owen's hand moved.
The blade appeared in his grip as if reality itself had bent to obey him. Without another word, he vaulted through the office window and vanished.
Baron Aldric dragged a hand down his face, already exhausted.
"Leave," he muttered to the servant. "I know who it is."