Demund breathed in. Then he breathed out.

His last breath came out as a hefty sigh that made his whole body sulk downwards on his bed. A decent amount of days had passed since he’d first received the dragon’s blessing—or curse—and nearly every day had been spent trying to replicate it.

Bluntly, he had failed. The magic was far too complex and foreign for him to copy. Additionally, as he was not the one who had created the magic but had been subjected to it, it was difficult to sense how it worked, even as Shaden. His restrictions had been lifted, but even then, the dragon’s magic was something that couldn’t be underestimated.

Now, he knew that he would never be able to replicate the blessing in the waking world. But that didn’t mean that he had given up.

He looked down at his hand. Changing the pathways of mana within his body was not an easy process. Without the dragon’s magic to keep—or force—his mana through specific veins, his mana would revert to its original, less efficient form. Practicing every day was changing that, but it was like building up muscle—slow and painful.

Did his body feel lighter?

It was too early to tell. Perhaps it was a placebo effect, but his muscles felt more relaxed and breathing felt easier. Then again, it didn’t feel that different. He wasn’t sure.

But what he was sure of was his control over his mana. His control over his mana was smoother and more powerful, sort of like a leaky hose that had been patched. Before, his mana was free to roam wherever during circulation or spell casting. He hadn’t given it a second thought. But now that the hundreds of thousands of pathways were being concentrated into specific points and pathways—

A flame appeared on his finger. But unlike before, it did not flicker, remaining completely still. He increased his output, and it became as long as a knife before he released the spell.

He could do it before. But it had wasted too much mana. Now, his effort was half—no, a quarter of what he’d needed before. Like a blade that had been sharpened, so had his circulation.

As Shaden, he’d never been able to learn these things. Nothing was lacking or difficult for his other self. He was only starting to realize how foolish he’d been to neglect properly training his real body, deluded by his other body’s competence and believing that he would never reach that level of power. Of course, he wouldn’t.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t improve. There were steps he could take, but he’d focused on the wrong things.

Looking back, he didn’t regret the way he’d spent his time. There were many spells he could utilize now, including the one that had let him befriend the neighborhood cats. But had he learned to properly control his mana first instead of figuring it out alone, he would have been able to do everything that much more quickly.

He’d been too confident in himself. But he wasn’t Shaden. Not now. He glanced at the book next to his bed.

It was crucial to know one’s limits. Not only to avoid danger but also to surpass those limits and better oneself.

He was feeling down because of the opportunities he’d missed. The knowledge he could have earned at the Great Libary was far away now, as well as Pleid the young-looking Elder who had explained to him everything he wanted to know. Had he been wiser and asked about the most efficient ways to utilize one’s mana and to increase it, his real body would be in a very different position. His project would have been better with more samples to show, and—

Demund slapped his cheeks. Reycan would tell him that thinking about the past was meaningless. The present was the most important, and those who wasted time worrying deserved their suffering.

He looked at the book once more and snorted. In the end, the main character had died despite all of his efforts. The ending was one of the reasons why the book had been so popular. Not because it was good, but because it had been so shocking.

It wasn’t a good life, the one Reycan had lived. But it was necessary for him at the moment.

Demund picked up The Code of Menzer and placed it back on the shelf. He knew what to do now. Studying had its limits, but mana—mana was limitless. Once his control over his mana became more advanced, he would be able to transfer it over to his friends.

Though, he still had to know how superpowers affected mana flow. It had been connected to how quickly his friends had been able to adapt. What were superpowers anyway? If only his senses were as good as his other body’s, he would be able to know fairly easily.

The world had researched superpowers as soon as they’d appeared. That was a common fact. But the materials weren’t available online. Only in the Islands would he be able to learn about their nature and what they truly were.

If only I had been better, I would be at the Islands right now.

Demund slapped his cheeks again. No point in regretting. That was why he was doing the Magic Club, to get noticed by someone higher up. Kacy’s suggestion was the best option for now.

Time. He lacked time. There was schoolwork to take care of, as well as exercising, circulating, and practicing magic. Lately, he was more tired during nights after teaching the members of the club.

Davis. The guy hadn’t left yet. And he’d had to spend some of his precious power to teach him. As he’d expected, a week was nowhere near enough for him to learn.

Kacy still hadn’t been able to create light. That was a big problem, especially when Rhyne had almost succeeded in conjuring water. While the ball hadn’t formed, the amount of water in the bucket had decreased noticeably, and the air had smelled wetter.

Was Rhyne talented? He couldn’t quite tell given that he was able to learn the spells in one day or less as Shaden. Then again, replicating the magic in the real world had taken far longer. Not as long as Rhyne, but longer. And he’d already known what it felt like. The problem was that he had too little information. There was nothing he could particularly compare himself or others to. It was something he would need to find out in the other world. They would let him read some books at least.

Demund got up, yawning broadly. It was a good thing that this mind and body felt entirely cleansed in the mornings. No matter how much he’d exerted himself the previous day, he would always feel refreshed when he woke up. His muscles would still feel sore, but his mind was always clear. It wasn’t exactly a superpower, but something of a side product to his dreaming ability.

It was always good to know the ins and outs of everything.

He’d never…dug in deep into his ability, had he? There had been a time when he’d attempted staying up all night, but when he’d slept in the morning, he’d gone back to spending a week again in the other world, right where he’d left off. When he awoke, a little over six hours had passed, but he’d felt refreshed. Considering it to be a waste of time and effort, he’d lived normally since then.

He was sleeping at least six hours every day. Less than that had felt dangerous. Some powers had side effects when abused, and he hadn’t wanted to ruin himself through recklessness. But maybe it was time to change that.

There had been that one time when he’d attempted to circulate. It had sent him to the other world for a few minutes. But why? His head had felt like it was about to explode—

Realization hit Demund’s head like a hammer.

Breathing techniques.

After his first attempt to use mana resulted in intense pain, he’d taken the safe route of only moving his own mana instead of trying to absorb mana from his surroundings. And he’d…neglected it. Simply circulating had made him feel so much more powerful.

It’s hard to circulate. That’s why you must use the mana around you as a stimulant through breathing. A pool of water cannot flow by itself but must have a stream flowing into it.

The instructor who had taught him that was…Basalm Reedock. Come to think of it, they’d separated abruptly when he had been kidnapped and then saved by his grandfather. The man had quit, he’d heard. He hadn’t had the will or time to go and find the man to say his thanks, and now, many years had passed.

He’d thought of the ragged man as cool. But thinking back, the man had seemed quite sad, drinking frequently and looking listless all of the time. It was because of his kidnapping incident that the man had quit along with the Headmistress.

Demund put on his clothes, thinking back to his experiences. They had gone by so quickly. If only he could return to that time, there would be so much more he would have been able to accomplish.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Circulating required control and power—sort of like an inner engine. Without an engine, outside factors would be required, which was breathing.

Why hadn’t Lytha taught him that properly? Because he was already skilled?

Then again…his aunt hadn’t been much of a determined kind of person. They’d skipped over the basics. He hadn’t known what he was missing out—until now.

Having too much talent had blinded him to all of the possibilities that had come his way.

It was still early in the morning. After eating, he would go to school early where he would review the material for that day. It had become a standard for him, though sometimes he wished he could be lax like his friends. The other world had served to relieve his stress and give him determination, but now, he’d found himself chest-deep in conflict, not being able to do what he wanted.

It wasn’t a bad life. He wasn’t being tortured. He would simply demonstrate his stealth ability every day. The two who were observing him still hadn’t cracked the magic yet, and it didn’t seem like they would anytime soon. There was a reason why it was considered a kind of inherited magic. Only the Limens had been able to use it, and among those who came to learn of it, none had succeeded.

He’d never stayed in Skotos for very long. He’d spent more time with each family than he’d spent with his grandfather. At this point, he wondered if it would be better to start anew.

“Morning,” he greeted his parents. “Gosh, I’ve been so busy lately.”

“You’ve become a club leader, right?” his mother asked, pouring him a glass of milk. “Are you sure you can handle it? It might be too tiring for you.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t force yourself,” his father told him. “Did you have good dreams?”

Demund weakly grinned. “Yeah.”

They knew about his power to a small extent. That he had realistic dreams and could get inspiration from them. But they didn’t know that he was living an entirely different life there with a beautiful mother and a father who was an excellent swordsman along with siblings he’d always wanted.

“When was the last time we went out together?” Demund asked. “We could do something during the weekend.”

His father furrowed his eyebrows. “Go out? Hmm…”

“Are you busy this week?” his mother asked.

“There are some tasks I have to finish.”

“I see,” Demund nodded.

“But—I could make some time. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“Well…I didn’t decide yet. Anywhere is fine. Oh, I know. How about the zoo?”

“The zoo? I didn’t think you liked animals.”

Demund shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“Okay. We can do that.”

“Wait, can I invite—”

He paused. Tickets weren’t inexpensive. And besides, this was meant to be a trip with him and his parents, the three of them together. As much as he liked his friends, he would spend this time with his mom and dad.

“Your friends?”

“No, not really,” he smiled. “Just you two.”

His parents looked at each other.

“I never thought I would be invited by my son!” his dad laughed, looking genuinely happy.

“Why, that’s a surprise,” his mother smiled. “I wonder what I’ll wear. Are you sure you don’t want anyone else to come?”

“No,” Demund confirmed. “I want some family time together.”

“Then I will be sure to make some time,” his father promised. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve been to the zoo.”

Something felt warm inside of his chest.

At least in this world, his parents would be safe from any kind of danger. They wouldn’t be taken as hostages or be used against him, nor would they have to suffer. It was a normal lifestyle, somewhat average, but he appreciated it—especially that morning. No being cautious of others, no thinking of plans to escape, no being stressed about the dragon’s curse on him—but just living life, enjoying time as it passed by.

His studies and school life suddenly felt so much smaller. They could be time-consuming, no doubt. But they didn’t endanger his livelihood.

He went to school with a light heart. Ever since his argument with Edan, the students had returned to avoiding him like before—though the stares were less. As he’d learned, no one cared that much about him to constantly pester him. Enariss was right. With time, everything would pass, and he had gotten used to it.

It was funny because he was called by the counselor after school, who showed him a video of him being drunk at Edan’s party. His face was decently hidden in the darkness, but the counselor seemed to know it was him.

“You’re going to be an official club leader now,” he told him, “and we can’t have such behavior happening when you are in that position. Is this you?”

“Yes,” Demund nodded. He felt relaxed. His problems felt insignificant. “I made a mistake. I won’t go anywhere near that place again.”

“Well—yes,” the counselor nodded. “The school thinks highly of you. Take this as a light warning.”

“I will.”

“Your club advisor is Ms. Clarn, isn’t it? She will have you write a letter of apology sometime this week. Expect her to visit. You are dismissed.”

“Am I the only one who’s getting punished?” Demund asked. “What about everyone else?”

“They will be warned,” the counselor said.

“Are you aware of the person who is hosting these parties?”

“That would be a breach of private information. You may leave now.”

Demund left the room, feeling slightly taken aback. They would know by now that the person who hosted these parties was Edan. Perhaps the guy had been punished—he didn’t know. Or perhaps they treated him differently because he was rich. He’d mentioned how his family donated funds to the school. Again, Demund wasn’t sure.

Nor did he care anymore.

He went to the club room with a lighter heart. While they likely had the smallest room in the school, he appreciated the closeness he could share with his friends. There was one person who he didn’t quite appreciate, but that didn’t matter.

Until—

“Oh shoot,” Davis muttered, looking at his hands. “It worked.”

Demund couldn’t believe it. Kacy still hadn’t learned to use light magic, but here Davis was, able to cast sparks of energy from his bloated hands.

“It’s like you said,” he said, turning to Rhyne. “When you use your ability together, it makes it easier.”

“How big does your arm get?” Rhyne grinned. “It’s like it’s gonna explode.”

“Eh.”

Demund glanced at Kacy. She was staring at Davis’s hands with a blank look. When she turned her head, their eyes met, and she shrugged.

“What?” Kacy snapped. “I don’t think I have a talent for magic.”

“It’s not even been a month.”

She rolled her head. “Well, okay. I might just be wasting your time though. We need to continue making better videos.”

“Right.”

He proceeded to do what he’d always done. Teach his friends some more magic and help them train by telling them the properties of the spell he’d read in his books. They were still on water magic, but the possibilities were endless. And now, Davis asked to join in.

“Sorry. Not today. I think I’ve used too much energy,” Demund told him, genuinely feeling exhausted. If he wanted to train some more later, he had to at least save some mana to use for himself. He didn’t want to expend it on Davis.

“You don’t look tired,” Davis said. “Fine. But tell me something.”

“Hmm?”

“How do you teach other people?”

“Simple,” Demund yawned. “You saw me do it for you. You cast the magic on someone else's hand and let them feel it.”

Davis held one hand with the other and did as Demund had described.

“I don’t get it, but okay,” Davis nodded, his voice lined with doubt.

Relax, Demund. It’s not like he’s trying to kill you.

For some strange reason, he found Davis to be as annoying as Book—the man who had tested him—or perhaps more.

The state of his body affected his mind more than he liked. Being depleted of mana, he was grouchier than usual, but as Shaden, his emotions would rarely become turbulent. He was conscious of it now and could keep his thoughts in order more, but it was scary, seeing how easily unsettled he could become.

You’ve experienced living among the soldiers of Fort Avagal, he thought to himself. This was nothing in comparison. The discrimination, the letter of apology he’d have to write, teaching his friends—all tiring, but completely acceptable.

He said goodbye to his friends and Davis as well. Maybe a day would come when the guy properly apologized for what he’d done at the party. All he wanted now was to enjoy his life and appreciate those around him. He’d experienced how easily he could lose the things he had, and in a world full of powerful people, the possibility of it happening to him was not zero. For instance, if Enariss decided to kill his family and crush his limbs, there would be little he could do.

Crime rates would have been a lot higher had technology been less advanced. Now, every criminal could be caught—and neutralized. At least in Zone 13. The other zones would be similar. But that meant that the criminals that did exist were either maniacs who didn’t care about their future—or those who were too powerful to be contained.

Most of the time, the powerful ones were exterminated. Nobody dared to mess with the Hero’s Security Syndicate. They were directly under the UWM. Higher-ranking individuals carried more power than the members of the World Council…

“Oh, a cat.”

Demund knelt down to pet a cat who had approached him. His daydreams knew no bounds. It wasn’t as if he would ever be a part of all of that. His humble wish was to simply go to the Preliminary Islands and meet his friends. If he could get a scholarship and possibly a stable, well-paying job as well, it would be everything he could wish for.

“Right?” he asked the cat, connecting to it.

“Meow?” the cat replied. All it cared about was whether or not he had food. When he let it know that he didn’t, it meowed sadly and plopped itself on the floor.

“Right. Gotta go.”

One animal was the most he could link to. When he’d tried two, it had been similar to writing an essay while playing an FPS game. Simply put, it was impossible. He only had one brain.

It was different for his other body. Everything clicked so naturally when he was Shaden. The answer lay in circulation, but he didn’t have nearly the amount nor the flexibility with mana that his other self had.

He went back home and ate dinner, sharing with his parents what he’d done during school. After washing the dishes, he went upstairs to do some reviewing and finish his homework. Some big projects were coming up, and he’d have to prepare for those too, especially if he was going to spend the weekend at the zoo.

The time before he slept was the time he looked most forward to. It was when he could freely cast his magic without worrying about overusing his mana.

“Taming, done. Detection, getting there.”

Since when had placing markers been so complex? To keep the magic from simply fading away, he had to weave the marker into the object over and over and over—and even then, it didn’t last for more than three days.

No. Wait a moment…

There was one thing that was clearly different between him and his other body. Not the infinite mana, nor the adaptability, but the shadow. The Limens could learn what took the other families their whole childhood within a year. His grandfather had mentioned that the shadow would help him throughout his journey.

Then again, his other self was just too overpowered.

Demund sighed. If only he could switch the two bodies together. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the other world.

He was certain that his stealth ability wouldn’t be copied by the two who were observing him. No matter how many spells they cast, they wouldn’t be able to crack it.

After all—

He hadn’t been able to himself. At least, not perfectly.

Demund held his hand before himself and attempted to replicate the magic. But like a wire being cut off, the magic simply stopped abruptly at a certain point, right before it emerged from his fingers. There was something else he was missing, something he didn’t know what it was.

He closed his eyes. Seven days in the other world—and one as Demund. But he could keep his memories and replicate magic. Somewhere in the vast world full of mysteries, using his abilities as his advantage, Demund told himself that he would find something that would make him extra special, perhaps like a superhero—a happy thought that soon faded away into nothing.

When he awoke, he was back in his grim reality as a captive.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

“Wow, elephants,” Demund muttered.

“They’re bigger than you would think,” his dad nodded. “Here, stand there. I’ll take a picture.”

Demund posed with a smile as his father pressed on his device, creating a photo.

“I’ll take one of you and Mom.”

He pushed his parents together before the elephants and took a picture of them.

It was still relatively chilly, considering that it was late February. But perhaps that was fortunate for them as not many visitors had come to the zoo, letting them roam the paths peacefully without much interference. Maintenance machines could be spotted here and there, sometimes feeding the animals, but they blended into the scenery. It felt like they had the whole place for themselves.

To be fair, that feeling only lasted for at most half a minute until they ran into other parents with their children or people who’d simply come to visit. And visiting on cold days had its disadvantages. There were little to no active shows, as well as a very limited opportunity to touch animals. But he didn’t mind it. After all, he was here to spend time with his parents.

Perhaps it was because his other family had almost been killed, but he’d begun caring more about those close to him. It was a kind of lonely mood he was experiencing, wanting to be surrounded by his family. Having no younger sister as Demund, he often turned around to see no one where he’d expected to see a sibling, causing him to suddenly be sad inside. Of course, Melany was alive and well in the other world. But she nor any of the others would be able to join him in the real world.

That was the same for his waking-world parents. He couldn’t show them the luxury he’d experienced, the expensive foods he’d tasted, the jewelry he’d seen, the talent he possessed. They were proud of him, but knowing what he was in the other world, he knew he couldn’t show them everything. He couldn’t fly with them through the air.

Demund jumped. As expected, he fell right back down.

“I wish I could fly,” he sighed, holding onto his parents’ arms. “There are people who can fly. Do you think any of them have flying services?”

“Probably,” his dad said, “but it would be expensive. Didn’t you ride an airplane during the winter?”

“Oh yeah. But it feels different from flying by yourself.”

His mother looked at him curiously. “Flying by yourself?”

“I had a dream where I flew around,” he quickly told her, covering for his mistake. “Being in a plane feels like sitting in a car, but you can see the clouds.”

“It’s always been man’s dream to fly like the birds,” his father smiled. “I also wished I could fly when I was younger. Sadly, I didn’t get any abilities.”

“I’m glad that you did, Demund,” his mother said with a hug. “How wonderful is it to dream what you want and learn from it? Do you dream of us too?”

“Er—well, what’s the point of dreaming about you and Dad if it isn’t real? That’s why I wanted to spend time with you today.”

His mom laughed. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“Speaking of dreams and flying, why don’t we go to the aviary?” his dad suggested.

The aviary. Demund had a vague memory of it. “Isn’t that where birds can fly around wherever?”

“It is. And if you’re lucky, some might sit on your shoulder. I think they sell seeds at the entrance.”

So following the map, they made their way to a large, transparent dome that held a small jungle within it, emitting a thousand sounds of singing and chirping all around. After they’d purchased some seeds, they entered an isolated room to make sure the birds wouldn’t be able to escape, and after the door automatically opened, they entered the aviary together.

It was much warmer inside, suitable for the colorful birds. They’d left their jackets outside after reading a sign on the door, and even then, it felt slightly hot. Demund grinned, turning to his parents.

“It’s like we have the whole place for ourselves,” he commented. “But wow, they’re loud.”

“I think I remembered why I didn’t like birds that much,” his father agreed. “But this is nice. Are you ready with the seeds?”

“Any time.”

“Pass me some as well. I want to lure a parrot.”

They each held a handful of seeds and reached out towards the winged creatures. The birds simply stared from a distance.

“Oh!”

It was his mom who’d gasped. A small, brown bird had abruptly landed on her hand, taken a seed, and then flew off again.

“They’re quite scared, aren’t they?” she muttered. “I think I’ll sit on a bench.”

“Do you see that big, white one there?” his dad whispered. “It’s looking at me.”

“It looks dangerous.”

“I think the sign said that all of the birds are peaceful,” Demund told his parents. “Just don’t throw things at them.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to go take a look over there.”

“Okay. Don’t get lost!”

The aviary was very spacious, having numerous paths that intertwined with the trees. And everywhere, birds fluttered around, looking at him. It was the perfect place to test out his magic.

Sadly, he didn’t nearly have enough mana to reach out to the birds. He waited patiently—until one flew onto his hand. But before he could link with it, it jumped away, joining its friends.

Take it slowly.

He’d been blind, so very blind. The Jakhar Kishaks and the Nieuts had been talented—and extremely so. They’d learned and mastered their craft for all of their lives, and it was likely the same for both the Seines and the Veurbois. But being Shaden, he’d never appreciated their efforts as he’d become better than them.

“To tame an animal, one must become like the animal,” he recited, remembering Eshel’s words. “Move like it, eat like it, think like it.”

He stared at the birds. It was difficult. He regretted only learning the basics and nothing advanced which would allow any normal person to better their taming abilities. He’d been overconfident. He’d believed that if he understood the magic, everything else would click as well. Now, he had the magic. But having a limited supply of power and control, it didn’t work as he’d expected it to.

Things had always been complex. It was Shaden’s absurd understanding that nullified all of these hurdles.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Animals knew when they were being watched. Now, he couldn’t see them.

A short moment later, he felt something hop onto his hand. He dared not to move. Instead, he slowly weaved his magic from his fingers, seeping it into the bird through its legs.

He smiled and raised his head. The small bird now stood on his hand with curious eyes. It didn’t run—it knew of his intentions.

“How the heck did I manage to communicate with animals?” he said with a sigh. “The rats were so good at following instructions. But you’re just standing there.”

The bird cocked its head.

“Yeah, I know. Eshel mentioned something about spending time with your bond to understand them better. I always thought that it was a waste of time.”

The bird chirped.

“Erm…yeah. You can eat them.”

The bird happily began nibbling at the seeds. At least it understood that.

“Could you call your friends over?”

The bird ignored him.

“Well—okay.”

He sat on the bench and watched the small bird eat. This was quite nice, even if he couldn’t do much. Simply being able to be around animals without them running away was an ability anyone would envy. And his control over it would only grow.

“If I recall correctly, your power was to dream.”

Demund looked up. There had been no sound nor a waver in the air, and yet someone stood next to him, waving. It was a familiar, perfect face—one that had grey hair, eyes of silver, and a perfectly chiseled jaw.

“You’re—Deion?” he asked, surprised to see an alumnus of his school.

“Hey, Demund,” the guy smiled, sitting down next to him. “You think you can teach me how to tame birds as well?”

“You know who I am?”

“Well, of course. We played dodgeball together. And you always stuck around with Enariss.”

“Oh, right.”

Deion laughed. “You could also say I’m a fan of your channel. Call me one of your first fans, will you?”

“You watch our Magic channel?”

Deion took out his phone. “I’m subscribed as well. See? My username is d1tter.

“Wait—that was you?”

The guy shrugged. “I’m proud to have such a capable underclassman. That’s what TISE is all about, isn’t it? Leaving a mark in the future.”

Demund didn’t know what to say. The guy had appeared out of nowhere. The only person who had been able to defeat Enariss in a fight and the previous president of the MMA Club—right here, before his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in college?”

“Surprisingly, I got a job,” Deion whistled. “It’s a very special kind of position. Call me—a recruiter of sorts.”

The bird in Demund’s hand flew away, much to his disappointment. He’d allowed his magic to weaken.

“A recruiter.”

“You must have seen the news. Big crimes here and there, natural hazards that occur once in a while.”

“It’s always like that.”

“Yes. But things are changing. Have you ever wanted to become a hero, Demund?”

Demund felt his heart drop by a few meters. “A…hero?”

“Yes. More specifically, live in the Preliminary Islands.”

“Of course. But I lost the Junior’s Advancement.”

“Well, yes. But this isn’t about that. This is about you and what you can do.”

Demund’s heart was accelerating by the second. “But—why me? I can’t do much.”

“The bird. You did something to it.”

It was at that moment that Demund realized that Deion could control his mana. A certain presence emanated from him, surrounding the air. Demund could barely feel it—a sign of his ineptitude compared to his other self. But he was glad he could.

Deion could tell. Which means others could as well.

“Kind of,” Demund said.

“Magic? Like in your videos.”

“Yes.”

“Can it be taught?”

Demund paused. He didn’t want to give this ability away just like that.

“Maybe. Unlike the light or water spells, it’s very complex.”

“Hmm. I see. Then—”

Deion pointed a finger at him.

“I nominate you as the next member of our group.”

“Huh?”

“Nomination Accepted.”

A mechanical voice rang through his mind along with a burning yet soft sensation on his hand. When he looked at it, a circle was being burned into his skin, glowing with bluish light.

“Hey, what does this mean—?”

When Demund looked up to complain, Deion was gone.

And only then did the birds begin to chirp again.