The mist over the Mist Swamp began to recede with the coming of dawn, yet the stench of death only grew more pungent. Pale morning sunlight struggled to pierce the canopy, illuminating the mud that was now stained a deep, dark red.
Elian stood there, his feet buried in the cold mire, staring down at the stiff face of the Tracker Captain he had just killed. The man's eyes bulged, freezing his final terror—a cruel irony that a war veteran had been butchered by a ten-year-old boy often mistaken for a delicate girl.
"Don't just stare at him." Lunaria's voice cut through the silence, sounding bored yet sharp from where she perched atop a protruding mangrove root. "Corpses can't bite, but time can kill you. Take what is useful. We need to leave before this carcass invites a Swamp Hydra."
Elian nodded stiffly. He knelt, ignoring the nausea roiling in his stomach. His small hands, still crusted with dried blood, began to rifle through the pockets and leather pouches on the corpse's belt.
It was the first lesson for every adventurer: Be a scavenger.
He found a heavy coin pouch. Inside, the glint of gold and silver greeted his eyes. The coins were stamped with the Sun crest—the currency of the Solara Empire.
"Solara Gold..." Elian murmured, his thumb tracing the engraving of the Emperor's face on the coin. The same face that had ordered the annihilation of his family.
"Keep it," Lunaria said, hopping down gracefully, her boots barely making a sound on the mud. "The human world is driven by two things: Mana and Money. On the Human Continent, you can't even take a piss without paying taxes."
Elian tucked the pouch into his own belt. He continued his search and found a scroll sealed with red wax inside the inner pocket of the Captain's armor.
Carefully, Elian broke the seal and unfurled it.
It was an official warrant. The handwriting was neat, inscribed with faintly glowing magical ink.
"Executive Order from the Military Headquarters of Northern Solara. Target: Remnants of the Vane bloodline. Priority: Capture Dead or Alive. If found deceased, bring the head as proof to Lord Morgran. Reward: 500 Gold Coins and Promotion to the Capital Division."
"Morgran..." Elian crushed the paper in his fist until it crumpled. The name of the traitorous Viscount resurfaced.
"You know that name?" Lunaria asked, noting the shift in her student's expression.
"He is the cur that bit the hand of my Father," Elian answered coldly. His voice no longer trembled like a child's. There was a terrifying emptiness in it. "He is in Solara."
Lunaria sighed, then walked over, took the crumpled paper, and incinerated it with a snap of her fingers that sparked green fire.
"Solara is just one of the five giants you must face if you wish to exact revenge on the entire system that destroyed you," Lunaria said, beginning an impromptu lecture in the middle of a field of corpses.
"Five?" Elian looked up at his master.
As a Duke's son, Elian had received private tutoring since the age of four. He knew the basic map of the world, but political details were often hidden from children to preserve their innocence. But now, innocence was dead.
"The Human Continent, or what you call Terra Humana, is not ruled by a single king," Lunaria explained, gesturing for them to start walking out of the swamp.
"In the North, where you come from, lies the Solara Empire—militaristic and obsessed with glory. In the West, there is the Holy Empire of Celestia, a hypocritical theocracy that worships 'The Light' and burns anyone they deem a heretic."
Lunaria vaulted over a fallen log, followed by Elian, who mimicked her movements with agility.
"In the South, sits the Kingdom of Noctis. The land of knights in black armor. They value physical strength and Aura above all else. Then in the Southeast, you have the Azura Federation, a coalition of merchant states and maritime republics—cunning and wealthy. And far to the East, isolated by mountains of mist, lies the Yamato Shogunate, a land of strange, reclusive swordsmen."
Elian listened intently, absorbing every piece of information like a sponge.
"My father was a General of Solara," Elian said quietly. "But he was respected even by his enemies."
"Power is a universal language," Lunaria replied. "And speaking of power... you were lucky your enemies today were merely low-ranking soldiers whose Aura Cores were only half-formed."
They paused briefly by a small stream to wash up. Elian scrubbed the blood from his face, catching his reflection in the water. He looked gaunt, his features sharper, his eyes more predatory.
"Master," Elian called out as he rubbed a bloodstain from his arm. "Why can't I use magic like the Mage earlier? Or Aura like the Captain? I know my Core is damaged, but..."
Lunaria sat on a large boulder, fixing her student with a serious gaze.
"Listen well, Elian. This is basic knowledge usually taught to nobles when they turn twelve, when their bodies are deemed ready for awakening. But you... you have been forced to grow up before your time."
Lunaria picked up a pebble and skipped it across the water, creating ripples.
"For humans, the center of power is divided in two. The Mana Core resides in the heart. It is a vessel to store magical energy from nature, purify it, and release it as spells. The purer your Core, the brighter the color of your magic."
"And Aura?" Elian asked.
"The Aura Heart—or as the Easterners call it, the Dan Tian—resides below the navel, in the lower abdomen. It is the center of physical vital energy. Warriors gather their life force there, condense it, and then explode it outward to reinforce their skin and weapons."
Lunaria pointed to Elian's chest, right at his heart.
"Your heart leaks. You cannot store Mana there. If you forced yourself to become a conventional Mage, your heart would burst."
Then she pointed to Elian's lower abdomen.
"And your Dan Tian is unformed because you suffered from malnutrition and your body is too 'yin'—too soft. You have no vessel, Elian."
The words should have hurt, but Elian had already accepted them.
"Then, will I remain a cripple forever?"
"Fool," Lunaria scoffed. She hopped down and gripped Elian's shoulder. "Look around you. This forest. This world. Who says you need a small container inside your body if your entire body is the container?"
Lunaria's purple eyes shone intensely.
"Humans separate Mana and Aura. Mages look down on Warriors; Warriors mock Mages. But you... with the Body Tempering method I am inflicting upon you, your cells absorb mana directly. Your bones become the mana storage. Your blood becomes the aura flow. You are not bound by their rules of 'Colors' or 'Tiers'."
"But that means I must suffer more, doesn't it?" Elian guessed.
"Correct," Lunaria grinned cruelly. "To reach that stage, you must constantly destroy your body and let it regenerate stronger. You must die repeatedly without truly dying."
Lunaria tossed a slender dagger she had looted from another tracker toward Elian.
"Keep that Elven short sword for emergencies. Use this human steel dagger from now on. You must get used to 'bad' weapons so you can appreciate the 'good' ones later."
They resumed their trek toward the depths of the Azure Mist Forest, leaving the border that had now become a mass grave.
"Master, where are we going now?"
"To Dragon Bone Valley in the northern sector of the forest," Lunaria answered casually. "There are rumors of lingering dragon energy there. Dragon pressure is excellent for pushing your body to its absolute limit. And... there might be some poisonous plants I need for your next 'bath'."
Elian didn't complain. He simply tightened the belt holding his gold coins and his new dagger.
On that journey, Elian began to understand one thing: The world was vast, and his enemies were in every corner of the compass. Solara, Celestia, Noctis, Azura, Yamato. Five giants ruling the human continent. And beyond them, there were continents of other races he knew nothing about.
But right now, his focus was singular: Survive today.
"Oh, one more thing, Elian," Lunaria said without turning back. "Starting tomorrow, I will double your physical training. You were too slow when killing that Captain. If you had been a second slower, it would have been your head rolling on the ground."
"Yes, Master," Elian replied obediently.
The wind blew through the trees, carrying the scent of adventure and suffering to come. Elian Vane, the Young Master who was once pampered, was now merely a small shadow walking in the wake of an Elf Queen, stepping toward a destiny that would one day shake the five continents.