Demund woke up enraged.

Someone had dared to drug him and force him to stay put and chained for a week.

A whole, precious week. A week that could have been spent on training; a week where he didn’t feel so restrained by his own body. A time when he could be freer than ever, chained down and wasted away on some lousy platform, enjoying some sweet gruel like some disabled infant.

He curled his fingers and frowned in anger. Only now when he was away from his body could he think with a clear mind. Back inside the dream, it had felt…weird. He had felt relaxed and fazed and his head had been stupidly high up in the skies for some damn reason. Some kind of magic that made him weak, something that sapped away his strength.

He didn’t have time for this meaningless development. It was his dream. Never once had he been faced with something bad, something he actually felt angry about within his dream. He was in the middle of finals, and this useless hinderance that prevented him from relaxing was—

He paused. He checked the time on the wall.

He looked towards his schoolbag.

And took in a deep breath.

When had he become so reliant on his dream? It was a dream—nothing to become so frustrated about. As he sat on his bed and thought, the world crawled to the back of his mind, becoming nothing but a past memory, something less relevant than reality.

It’s another world, another delusion. Another way to escape this world.

He stretched his arms and yawned. His anger was gone now, replaced by butterflies in his stomach.

One last review before class began would be necessary.

〄 〄 〄

You have failed.

Garthan jerked his eyes open and looked around the dark room. His cautious eyes scanned every nook and cranny, searching for something that may have caused him to wake up.

There was nothing. He sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. Blankly, he counted the slits on the wooden ceiling.

The past was nagging at him again.

Carefully, Garthan got out of the bed, allowing his wife to sleep on without waking up. She had been busy lately taking care of Melany. The little baby had grown up so quickly within two years, and Melsei was spending most of her day teaching and bonding with her child again. Garthan always left raising the child to Melsei.

Lately, he was killing monsters day and night. After quite some time of nothing, killing things again felt a little out of place for him. He had come to dislike the sensation of blood dripping from his hands.

But he knew better than anyone that a moment of carelessness could result in the end for him.

Slowly, he closed the door of the bedroom behind him. Sunlight was lightly spilling onto the floor, illuminating the living room in a warm, gentle mood of morning calm. The past week had felt very quiet.

Similar to when they had just been married. Just the two of them with their only child, quietly adjusting to their new lives in the city before they moved to the countryside. A tinge of nostalgia filled him, and he switched on the stove to brew some tea for the morning.

The cat was gone again. It always ate its food, which was a relief. Garthan had thought that Melany’s presence would substitute for Shaden’s for the obsessed cat, but that didn’t seem to be the case. While it tolerated the baby’s presence, it always meowed to be let out ever since Shaden left for the summer camp.

He looked towards the open window and realized that the couch’s shadow was longer than normal. There was only one person who could be hidden from him without invoking a hint of presence.

“Father.”

“Took you long enough.”

On top of the couch, the shadow thickened and solidified, manifesting into the shape of a man. It grew arms and legs until the features of an old man with grey-black hair formed from within the darkness. The wrinkled man’s eyes stared at Garthan with disappointment. Garthan knew that look.

He hated that look.

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Of course not. Not with your incompetence, that is. Have you not noticed?”

Garthan relaxed his grip on his dagger within his clothes and looked at his father.

The man shook his head. “You were always slow, Garthan.”

The man flicked out a dagger and twirled it in his hands, making whizzing noises as it sliced through the air. “I will be taking this. My grandson will require it within his possession.”

Garthan suddenly became alert. “You don’t mean—”

“I do. You have failed.”

The man took out a sheet of paper within his dark coat. After allowing Garthan to look at it, he ripped it into pieces and tossed it. With a dull glow, the ruined contract burned away into nothing, and its ashes vanished before reaching the ground.

Garthan knew what that was. Fear filled him.

“You can’t. He will be against it.”

“Oh, but he is not of age.”

“You will ruin him.”

“No. I will strengthen him. As I strengthened you. But unlike you, he will surpass me.”

“My son—”

“My grandson, a member of our line that you swore you could protect. And yet, you failed.”

Garthan became lost for words. When had it happened? Who? Why? How? His son was supposed to be watched over by the Instructors!

The old man got up, his long hair and beard blending into the background as his body flickered. The wrinkles on his forehead grew deeper, and he watched his son’s reaction with pity.

“At least—let me say goodbye.”

“You may.”

The man’s image slowly sunk into the shadows, and his body began to dissipate like dust in the wind.

“If you find him.”

All traces of his father disappeared with the rising sun, and Garthan clenched his fingers until blood began to drip.

〄 〄 〄

“Unbelievable…” breathed the Governor. All those with him shared his sentiments as they looked into the room piled high with roughly-formed mana crystals. The blueish glow of the crystals lit up the room in a mysterious color, and figures within white suits could be seen breaking away the mana crystals into smaller portions which were then transported to somewhere. The giant room was covered with it as if it was the center area of a dungeon.

An artificial mana crystal mine.

“How is this possible?” asked the Governor, his voice squeaking at the pile of treasure before him. “All of this was formed due to a single individual?”

The Master of the Union smiled and took a puff out of his pipe. “Indeed. The individual whom the Headmistress has withheld from us—until now.”

However, the Governor could see why the Headmistress had been so reserved. The amount of mana within the room—if magic was cast on it, half of the city could be destroyed. An individual with so much power was too dangerous to be meddled with. If he somehow found a way to escape and realize how he had been treated—

He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it.

“The boy’s mana has been absorbed for eight days straight, and yet, we see no signs of running dry.”

“Eight days!” exclaimed the Headmistress in anger. “What are you, animals? Let him go at once!”

The Master leisurely spun his pipe and stroked his long beard. “Everything is under our meticulous control. The boy is under surveillance at all times, and magic has been continuously cast on him to prevent him from going wild. His memories are also being erased, so when he is free, everything will return to normal, and we will finally be aware of the cause of the increase in monsters. We are actually making progress here, dear Headmistress.”

His voice held a tinge of disapproval, and the Headmistress glared at him. But she couldn’t completely disagree.

“He will not be harmed.”

“I do very much agree. No harm will be done to him. He will be kept until we discover the limits of his mana pool, or until the end of next week.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“I am being absolutely reasonable. Knowledge is power. To manage things efficiently, knowledge is required.”

“How will you explain this to his parents?”

“I have done my research. They will know nothing. He will simply have finished his summer camp, returning home when it was finished.”

“He is a Limen.”

“So what?”

The Headmistress cursed internally. These fools in this small city had no idea whose grandson they were meddling with. While she did agree on finding out the full capacity of the boy’s power, she had wanted to wait until he was ten. She had heard some things from Garthan, and the boy would have been much more reasonable to be exposed to the information.

But now, the Master and Instructor Pinec had unnaturally forced things into motion. Because of their impatience, they were put into unnecessary danger.

“If the boy regains his memories—”

“He will not. We have six elite mages watching over his every move.”

The Headmistress sighed. She was becoming too old for all of this nonsense. She had come to Danark for retirement, not to be involved with the affairs of the newer generations.

Both the Academy’s Director and Guild Master were continuing to stare at the mountain of mana crystals with greed in their eyes. One of them was thinking, ‘fuel for experiments,’ and both of them were thinking, ‘money.’

“Take us to the boy,” said the Governor. “I want to see him.”

“As you wish,” the Master replied. Without ado, he motioned for the group to follow him down the dark, stone halls, down a staircase and into an open area in front of an iron gate. With a few motions and wisps of light, the gate groaned open, revealing a white room with bright lights at the top. The magicians inside nodded at the group while continuing their monitoring.

A magic circle covered the whole room, and at its center, a boy on a white platform with chains on all of his limbs could be seen. His eyes were covered with a bandage, and his body looked limp and lifeless.

“Shaden!”

“Don’t worry, Headmistress. He is sleeping. His body is properly being taken care of.”

“You call this ‘properly being taken care of’?! Half-naked and chained down?!”

“He will not remember a single thing. This is the most efficient way of monitoring his mana signals.”

“Let him go!”

“I’m afraid not, Headmistress. The experiment has to continue.”

With a furious frown, the Headmistress placed her hands on the sword within her large robe. Sensing her hostility, the Guild Master jumped in front of the old woman, his hand on his sword strapped to his side.

“Ento! What is the meaning of this!”

“Cool your old head, Headmistress. This is an opportunity we cannot lose. You heard the wizard. The boy won’t feel anything.”

“I must agree with him, Headmistress. The boy will be very useful for the future of this country,” added the director. He took a step back when the Headmistress glared at him but retained his opinion. “A brief moment of discomfort is insignificant. You have suffered much worse, I’m sure.”

“He is a child of seven,” growled the Headmistress through her clenched teeth.

“He will have to suffer more as he grows. Please tolerate this only this once, Headmistress.”

“What if I disagree?”

“We will have to restrain you.”

The Headmistress smiled, but her fury was clearly visible within her expression. “You think all of you combined would stand a chance against me?”

At the spike of her aura, everyone knowledgeable in the room was reminded of the exact existence of the being known as the Headmistress. They took a step back from her and sweat started forming on everyone’s backs as a shiver crawled up their spine. Even the Guild Master, known for his skill in combat, nervously held his sword as he squinted his eyes.

“Headmistress. Headmistress!” cried the Governor. “Please, everyone let go of your weapons. We didn’t come here to fight!”

“Let the boy go at once. He has had enough.”

“I’m telling you, the boy is under no—”

The Master stopped. In fact, everyone in the room stopped. They had felt something ominous coming from the room. They all focused their eyes on the boy, who was still limp. But his chain was rattling.

“What is that?” questioned the Master to his subordinates.

“We do not know,” the magician said nervously. “The chains are soaking up the mana accordingly, but the mana itself—”

A crack formed in one of the chains.

“He has regained consciousness. Quickly! Cast the magic!”

“Impossible! The chain is unbreakable! It can even hold down a dragon!”

〄 〄 〄

Demund fell asleep with satisfaction. He had aced the test, so he was pretty happy. With a content smile, he lay in his bed and felt the darkness wash over him.

Then the numbness began to invade his mind. Like he had been drugged, his whole body, his consciousness felt weak and diluted. He felt his thoughts slip away from his like air from a balloon, weakening him, making him fall asleep into the dark.

The deeper dark.

He realized how horrid the situation was. As he returned to being Shaden, so did his anger. Who dared?

Who dared?

His mana was constantly being sucked away, and his whole body was numb and flaccid. A happy sensation crawled into his mind, making his anger amplify even more.

Who dared!

It was his dream, and he would control it.

Even though his mana was being sucked away, he would control it. Shaden began circulating at a rapid pace while the chains soaked away his mana greedily. He would never give up. He increased his circulation even more and felt some control over his mana. The faster he circulated, the more mana he would output. If he could bring forth enough mana, he would have some mana to use while the chains continued to absorb his mana.

It wasn’t enough. Shaden circulated even faster. He felt his mind become clearer and he sensed his body like he would sense his sword—through his mana. The key was to keep all of his mana connected into a collective consciousness that he could control.

He didn’t feel empty yet. Even he did not know the limits of his own mana. But he would continue.

Shaden increased his circulation even further. He went beyond his maximum limit, and his mind became as clear as day. He felt powerful despite having no control over his drugged body.

The chains. They were doing something. He would break them.

Chains weren’t living creatures. They were objects.

And objects could be controlled.

While increasing his mana output, Shaden intentionally focused his mana into the chains. His mind became duller for a second, but he quickly recovered with more mana. The chains continued to suck away, and he continued to push into their capacity.

Finally, he felt the chains’ limits. He smiled.

Just like his sword, he conjured nerves of mana and injected them into the chain. They almost disappeared instantly due to the chains’ absorption, so to counteract the absorption, he put in even more mana. He was using more mana than he ever had in his life at that moment, and he knew it. Putting aside his worries, he continued.

He would never be chained again.

He sensed the chains and knew he had gained control over them. Now, he had mana to spare. While he couldn’t see, he could feel with his mana. The chains—and his body.

Slowly, he conjured mana-hands and latched onto the chains. With all his might, he pulled the one on his right arm apart. It was a tiring process, but he continued. He shaped the hands into chisels and began to strike away at the chain.

*CRACK*

He felt it break under his fifth blow. Without hesitation, he violently struck away—

—as an intense weakness and sleepiness invaded his mind.

But it only fed his anger.

With an internal cry, he unleashed an unstoppable flow of mana stored inside of him. Gaining full control of his chains, he struck at them, feeling them crack under his flurry of blows. His circulation diluted the effects of the restraining magic spells, and with even more intense clarity of mind, Shaden broke free of his shackles.

As the magic on his body weakened, Shaden regained control of his physical body.

He ripped his blindfold away.

〄 〄 〄

“The boy is glowing!” cried the Governor.

From an outsider’s perspective, everything was a scene out of a horror movie. The chains holding the boy’s limp body rattled and cracked like they were possessed, and the magicians watched in fear as their sensors all displayed the maximum value while screaming their warning signals. The flow of mana was practically visible now as it emerged from the boy and went into the chains in a vein-like stream.

“What is happening?!” demanded the Headmistress.

“I do not know!” shouted the Master. “Quickly, take the Governor and get out!”

The Guild Master nodded and escorted the Governor out of the room. The Director quickly followed after them, running up the stairs in the hurry.

“There aren’t any signs of offensive magic,” stated the Master. “He is causing this simply with his mana. And here I thought he was going to run dry soon…”

“Can you stop this?”

“I…don’t know. This is a first for me.”

The Master stretched his arms out, his face beaming with joy.

“Isn’t this exciting?”

With a final crack, the last chain that held the boy broke apart. The lifeless body suddenly jerked his hand up, ripping the blindfold from his eyes. With a furious expression, the small boy broke the shackles on his wrists and ankles with something. He then sat up and looked around.

His eyes met the Headmistress’s.

〄 〄 〄

“Headmistress? What are you doing here?”

Shaden looked towards the elderly woman and the old man who was standing next to her.

“Boy. You have shown us a miracle! Please, calm down and—ack!”

The old man yelped as Shaden flattened him on the wall with his mana-hands, just enough to shut him up. He had a weird expression on his face, so Shaden didn’t want to bother with him.

“Headmistress. Would you kindly explain the situation to me.”

The Headmistress stood there silently.

“I am sorry,” she finally said. “I failed to protect you.”

Shaden wasn’t the type to lose control in front of people. He let out a deep sigh and inspected his body. After confirming that there weren’t any injuries, he walked to the old lady. She wasn’t the type to chain him down. There had to be a reason.

Because she apologized, he would hear her out. No; even if he refused to, she would force him to hear him out. He only just realized how strong she was. He could sense her more clearly now that he was full of mana, and her presence was…unexpected. It felt ancient and solid like a mountain.

Shaden shrugged. As long as he wasn’t chained down again, wasting his time away, it was fine.

“Let’s go, Headmistress.”

“...Indeed.”

〄 〄 〄

Shaden stepped out of the tower into the sunlight.

He was greeted by rows and rows of magicians holding their wands and staffs in front of them, and some soldiers who had been deployed from the areas nearby. Just by escaping, was he being treated as an enemy by the whole city?

It seemed too absurd to be true. It would mean that the whole city had approved of him being chained down.

“Don’t worry.”

The Headmistress walked in front of the crowd.

“Return to your stations. There is nothing to worry about,” she spoke to the crowd.

A nervous whisper rose among the ranks. Most of them recognized the Headmistress. Her words held power, and her influence was considerable within the city. They had all been mobilized due to the Governor’s urgent command, but everyone was unsure of the situation.

The soldiers all shrugged and left the place. They trusted the Headmistress more than the cowardly Governor. The magicians, however, had their worries.

“Where is the Master?” shouted one of the magicians.

At that moment, the Master hurriedly waddled out from the tower, his long beard and robe flowing behind him. His robes were wrinkled and his face looked slightly crazed, but he looked fine.

“There is nothing to worry about!” he quickly declared. He glanced at Shaden and cleared his throat. “The Governor has made a mistake. Do as the Headmistress says.”

A confused murmur filled the area.

“What was that wave of mana we felt?” asked one of the magicians.

The Master smiled. “That, my fellow explorers of magic, means the birth of a Sage.”

Another murmur went through the area. Sage? Shaden had no clue what they were talking about. What had he had in common with a Sage? A large mana capacity? Was that it?

“I don’t think so.”

An icy voice pierced the area from the back. Beyond the small crowd, a figure in a dark hood and coat appeared out of nowhere and approached the front. Strangely, Shaden noticed that no one within the crowd was moving. They were all frozen in place like statues, except for their eyes which darted around madly within their sockets.

The Master gasped. The Headmistress grabbed her sword.

The hooded figure’s dark eyes stared into their souls like daggers, and the Master held in a small cry. Why was such a person here?

“I have come to fetch my dearest grandson.”

Grandson? The Master felt a bead of cold sweat roll down his back and forehead.

“Grandfather…?”

The hooded figure tossed something black into the air. Shaden caught it. It was his dagger that he had received on his 5th birthday.

“Let’s go, my boy. To our home.”

Shaden nodded. This was certainly an interesting development. However, the Headmistress touched his shoulder.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

Shaden looked into her eyes. Her old, tired eyes. She looked too exhausted for anything.

“He said we’re going home.” He brushed off her hand. “So yes.”

Shaden walked towards the man who held a proud smile on his face.

“Come here,” he beckoned.

When Shaden arrived in front of him, the man held him up into his arms and turned around. Then like smoke, they were gone.