The half-gate.
In just a few hours.
Sitting in the silence of his room, Davin let the phrase turn over and over in his skull. The process, with the AI's assistance, had seemed almost mechanically simple. Observe. Breathe. Guide. Fill.
But for the local population?
Sylvia and her group had not reached that stage. Her grandfather — a veteran Adept — had apparently been stuck below the rank of Mage for years. Maybe decades.
Either the AI was an overpowered anomaly.
Or the average talent around Sylvia was simply pathetic.
Probably both.
Or I just mistook a miracle for a simple procedure, which is exactly the kind of arrogance that gets newly rich idiots killed.
He checked his interface one last time.
**[BEEP. System Message / Analysis in progress…] > HOST STATUS:Name: DavinVessel: UnknownBiological Age: 19Strength: 1.3Agility: 1.2Vitality: 1.4Mana: 2.5
[Alert: overall improvement of muscular and skeletal structure detected.][Alert / Recommendation: mana perception awakened. Visual, auditory, and olfactory acuity enhanced.][Secondary Alert: passive energy emission detected. Insufficient control.]**
Davin stared at the last line.
Passive energy emission?
He did not like that.
Not at all.
So I'm glowing like an idiot who just learned how to light a torch and thinks he's being discreet in a dark room.
He inhaled slowly.
His vitality had risen again. At first, he had thought it was due to the meal, the bath, and the pill partially repairing his deficiencies. But no. Not only that.
Mana did not merely fuel magic.
It reshaped the body itself.
Slowly, at his level. Gradually. But it did.
Had the mage in the black robe experienced the same transformation at his own awakening? Probably. On a very different scale. In Davin's case, for now, it amounted to slightly better muscles, sharper senses, and endurance that was less pathetic.
A promise.
Not yet a weapon.
He closed his eyes and focused.
Something had changed inside him.
He could feel it in the air. A new density, as if every molecule in the room had gained weight. Invisible currents of heat rose from the floorboards, warmed by the rays of the two suns. He could follow their path, feel their movement against his skin.
Even more unsettling, he heard things he would never have noticed the day before.
The tiny scratching of an insect crawling between two planks.
The steady breathing of someone sleeping two rooms away.
The clink of a spoon against a plate on the floor below.
And smell.
Worst of all.
He could distinguish the dried sweat of a man sitting in the common room, the bread rising in the kitchen, the rancid oil of a lamp at the other end of the inn, the dampness trapped in the walls, the remnants of dried beer under a table.
Too much.
Too much information.
Too many raw sensations at once.
Davin opened his eyes and exhaled slowly.
I'll need to learn how to filter all this. Otherwise, I'm going to be assassinated by soup, a lamp, and a mercenary's armpits.
But the conclusion remained: with these reflexes, these senses, and this strengthened body, he already surpassed ordinary mortals by a wide margin. A normal human — even a trained warrior who had not awakened — probably would not last long against him in an even fight.
Probably.
The word mattered.
A veteran with a blade, experience, and the habit of killing could still split him from chin to navel before he finished admiring his new perception.
So this advantage had limits.
Large ones.
I'm still weak. My ignorance is my biggest open wound.
He needed a structure for learning.
An academy.
A master.
A place where the rules were written, even if they had probably been written by people who preferred the poor not knowing how to read.
There has to be a magic academy, or some equivalent institution. I need to get inside before I make a mistake everyone except me finds obvious.
He stood, closed the interface with a thought, then left the room.
Descending the inn stairs was a strange experience.
Every face he passed in the common room gave him details he would not have noticed the day before. The dried dirt under a mercenary's nails. The worn fibers of a tunic patched several times. The faint tremor of an old man's hand around his mug. Sweat mixed with kitchen grease on the back of a neck.
One detail.
Then another.
Then another.
Too much, all the time.
The innkeeper saw him pass and frowned. Not because of the smell this time. Davin was washed, dressed, almost presentable.
No.
The man sensed something.
Not clearly.
Not like a Mage.
But enough not to treat him exactly like the day before.
Davin noticed immediately.
Wonderful. I traded "pestilential beggar" for "potential problem." Debatable improvement.
He stepped out of the inn.
The two suns still bathed the village in their harsh light. The streets were full, noisy, alive. Merchants shouted. Children ran between adults' legs. Guards watched the crossroads with the look of people who had already seen too many knives come out too quickly.
The hour did not matter.
Davin headed toward the Adventurers' Guild.
He hoped to blend into the crowd.
The effect was immediate as soon as he pushed open the heavy doors.
A dozen gazes locked onto him.
Not the disgusted looks he had known the day before.
Something different.
More measured.
More cautious.
More interested, too.
Adventurers interrupted their conversations. A woman in red leather armor followed him with her eyes. A shaved-headed man frowned. Two semi-adepts at a table stiffened almost at the same time.
They sense the mana.
Davin suppressed a sigh.
Excellent. Stealth level: barn fire.
Behind the counter, the receptionist who had insulted him the day before looked up.
She hesitated for one second.
Very instructive.
Her gaze dropped to his clean clothes, rose to his face, then stopped somewhere else. Not on his eyes. Not on his hands. On something around him she could not truly see, but perceived enough to change her attitude.
She straightened.
"Good morning…"
Her voice was cautious.
Almost polite.
The contrast with the day before would have been funny if Davin had not immediately understood the danger.
"Would you like to join the guild?" she continued. "We offer attractive compensation for Adepts, reserved missions, access to certain mana crystals, and several benefits depending on your level of commitment…"
Yesterday, I was a rat. Today, I'm a rat that glows. Service has improved.
"That's enough," a deep voice cut in.
Davin turned his head.
The mage was descending the stairs.
The man in the black robe still wore that insulting cleanliness, as if dust itself knew it did not have permission to settle on him. His dark garments moved soundlessly around his legs. The nearly invisible embroidery on his sleeves caught the lamplight from time to time.
His smile was courteous.
His eyes were already evaluating.
"Dear little brother," he said warmly. "How are you? Come. Follow me. We'll be more comfortable upstairs."
Little brother.
The term sounded friendly.
It was not.
Not really.
It was the language of a caste recognizing a new member, without forgetting for a single second that he stood at the very bottom of the ladder.
Davin hid his surprise behind an impassive face.
Maybe he doesn't recognize me at all. Or maybe he remembers the blood-covered beggar perfectly and is pretending. Both options are unpleasant.
He gave a polite smile.
"With pleasure."
He followed the mage upstairs.
They entered a luxurious office, far cleaner than the rest of the guild. The floor was covered with a dark rug patterned in geometric designs. A heavy table of violet wood occupied the center of the room. Azure flowers, similar to those from Cascade Forest, rested in a slender vase. Their scent was fresh, almost damp, with a very faint metallic note.
A silent butler served them a steaming drink in two dark ceramic cups.
Davin observed the liquid.
Pale amber.
Light steam.
Floral scent.
No reason to trust it.
AI, superficial analysis. Immediate toxicity?
[BEEP. Limited sensory analysis.Unknown botanical components.Immediate toxicity not detected through initial physiological reaction.Alert: insufficient data.]
So it can still kill me elegantly. Very reassuring.
"Sit," the mage invited, smiling. "To your health. A concoction of my own creation, made from Tulie flowers and botanical extracts from Cascade Forest."
Davin barely wet his lips.
A biting bitterness struck his tongue first. Then a warm sweetness followed, almost honeyed, before leaving a clear freshness in his throat. It was complex. Too good for a simple inn drink.
His eyes widened slightly.
The mage noticed.
Of course.
"It's excellent," Davin said. "The contrast in flavors is perfectly controlled."
The compliment was sincere.
And useful.
The mage seemed satisfied.
"Thank you. The plants of this region are modest, but they have character. Much like the talents one sometimes finds here."
Davin set down his cup.
And there's the hook.
"I'm Davin."
"Pleased to meet you, Davin. I am Kys, deputy chief of this guild."
He already knew.
But hearing it confirmed was better than assuming.
Kys took a sip before continuing.
"Please excuse our receptionists. They can be a little too enthusiastic when faced with a new Adept. Especially when said Adept appears… suddenly."
The word hung in the air for a fraction of a second.
Suddenly.
Kys had noticed.
Of course he had noticed.
Beggar one day. Adept the next. Very discreet, Davin. Would you also like to juggle your jade gate in the middle of the hall?
"I understand," Davin replied. "A new Adept represents an opportunity for a guild."
"Exactly."
Kys's smile widened.
"Your awakening opens doors. Better-paid missions, access to certain resources, merchant networks, exchanges between Adepts. The ground floor handles ordinary adventurers. I handle priority profiles."
Priority profiles.
Not people.
Not students.
Not talents.
Profiles.
Davin almost appreciated the honesty.
"That is a generous offer," he said. "But I have only just awakened. I haven't yet had the opportunity to accumulate any wealth."
Kys's smile froze for a fraction of a second.
Almost imperceptible.
But Davin saw it.
The laugh that followed was soft.
And hollow.
"Oh, I see. That is not a problem, little brother. Beginnings are often modest."
Translation: no money, no immediate interest.
The pragmatism of this world had something almost refreshing about it.
Davin went straight to the point.
"May I ask you for some information?"
"Of course. As long as it does not involve sensitive matters. Some things have a price."
"Is there an academy for Adepts? And if so, how does one get there?"
Kys seemed slightly taken aback.
Not by the question itself.
By the fact that Davin needed to ask it.
He quickly regained his composure.
"There are several training institutions in the kingdom. The nearest is Aethelgard Academy, attached to the great city of Mehian."
Aethelgard.
Mehian.
Davin engraved the names into his mind.
"Distance?"
"About forty kilometers west. The road is frequently used by merchants, mercenaries, and messengers. Getting there should not pose any major difficulty if you do not travel alone."
Kys set down his cup.
"A piece of advice: take a merchant escort mission at the front desk. With bandits, wild beasts, and wandering monsters on the road, convoys pay reasonably well. And for a freshly awakened Adept, it is a respectable way to arrive in the city without looking like you are begging for a place."
Respectable. In other words: don't present yourself as a lost pauper with a brand-new aura.
"Does the Academy accept new Adepts easily?"
Kys gave a faint smile.
"Easily? No. Nothing of value is obtained easily. But an Initial Adept at least has the right to try. The details depend on your age, aptitude, resources, and your ability not to offend the wrong people."
That last part sounded less like an explanation and more like a warning.
Davin nodded.
"I see."
Mostly, he saw that he did not see much at all.
Age.
Aptitude.
Resources.
Networks.
Social codes.
So many invisible knives.
"And you," Kys asked gently, "did you reach the half-gate alone?"
The question fell without a sound.
But Davin felt the trap.
Not a deadly trap.
A thin thread stretched through the conversation.
He lowered his eyes slightly toward his cup.
"With a minor awakening pill. And a great deal of luck."
It was not a lie.
Not entirely.
Kys observed him for a few seconds.
"Luck is a resource. But it runs out quickly for those who confuse it with talent."
"I will try to remember that."
"Do."
A polite silence passed between them.
Then an employee knocked on the door before opening it halfway.
"Master Kys! A severely injured man has arrived. Active insurance confirmed."
Kys sighed.
No concern.
No visible urgency.
Only the discreet irritation of a man interrupted by a task already written into his schedule.
"I'm coming."
He stood.
"Think about my offer, Davin. The local guild does not have Aethelgard's prestige, but it knows how to reward talents that belong to it."
The word belong was not spoken.
Davin heard it anyway.
"Thank you for the tea and the information."
Kys inclined his head slightly.
"Safe travels, if you leave. And a free piece of advice: learn to contain your mana. You are… visible."
Davin remained motionless.
Kys smiled.
Then left the office.
Perfect. Even my discretion needs training.
Davin went back downstairs a few moments later.
In the hall, an adventurer with half his face shredded was screaming in pain, supported by two panicked companions. Blood flowed between his fingers. Part of his cheek hung in strips. The metallic smell already filled the air.
Kys crossed the room at a calm pace.
People moved aside.
Not out of politeness.
Out of habit.
Davin watched for a second.
Healing insurance.
Sylvia had mentioned it.
Kys practiced it.
Adventurers paid for the right not to die too quickly.
Selling survival at the price of gold. No wonder he has his own office, a butler, and tea that tastes like privilege.
The system was brilliant.
Cruel.
Efficient.
Worth remembering.
Davin looked away and headed toward the counter.
He needed to take an escort mission to Mehian. Leave this village before too many people started linking the foul-smelling beggar, Sylvia's pill, and the freshly awakened Adept together.
He had obtained what he wanted.
Information.
Destination.
Next step.
Then a voice froze him in place.
"Davin?!"
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned his head.
A few meters away, Sylvia was sitting around a table with her group. The brother in leather armor had a bandage across his forehead and an expression still far too lively for someone so bad at discretion. The colossus drank in silence, one hand resting near his blade. The wounded boy kept his leg stretched out, pale but alive.
Beside them stood an elderly man.
Not fragile.
Elderly.
His gray hair was tied back. A short beard framed his marked face. He wore a dark tunic beneath a supple leather coat, worn but perfectly maintained. His hands were broad, calloused, covered in small scars. His eyes, however, had not dulled in the slightest.
The grandfather.
The veteran Adept.
Sylvia stared at Davin, wide-eyed.
She had not recognized him at first when he came down the stairs. Understandable. He was no longer covered in mud, blood, and a smell capable of ruining a family line.
But his gait, his build, his cold gaze…
Something must have clicked.
And now, she could sense the mana.
"You…"
Her voice rose despite herself.
"You reached the half-gate in just a few hours?!"
Silence fell brutally over the guild.
Like a mug dropped in a tomb.
"What?!" a mercenary at a nearby table blurted.
Behind the counter, the receptionist dropped her ledger. The book crashed heavily to the floor.
Even Kys, already bent over the severely injured adventurer, paused for a fraction of a second.
Only one.
Then he resumed his incantation as if nothing had happened.
But Davin had seen it.
Not everyone in the room might understand the exact significance of her sentence.
But enough of them understood the essential part.
Sylvia had just announced to a hall full of people that a stranger, a beggar the day before, had reached in a few hours a threshold many pursued for months, sometimes years.
Davin closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.
Fuck. Did you really need to say that?
He opened them again.
Every gaze was on him.
Cautious.
Curious.
Envious.
Hungry.
Very well. Discretion plan officially dead in a public fire.