A few days of relentlessly training the soldiers of the Protectorate left Elijah feeling a bit better from what he was prior. With the anger that was overflowing taken out on the poor soldiers under his command, he was no longer suffering from a troubled mind.

‘Why is she so headstrong about humans…’

Thinking back to everything that happened in his young daughters 17 years of life the only thing that could possibly relate to that is how her mother passed away. The event had shaken both father and daughter but a young girl of only 5 years old would obviously take the trauma at a much higher degree.

‘Doesn’t she know that just because of one tribe’s actions that she can’t blame any who are not human? Hell most conflicts are between humans anyways.’

The reality of it though was something completely different. While Elijah turned to his family and his work, what little Amellia turned to was religion. And the only human religion that stuck out to her was that of the so called Holy Church of Light. A human supremacy group that controlled the other two human countries from the shadows.

Humans as a race are significantly weaker than their contemporaries. Lacking any innate talents or skills, humans only had their insane reproductive rate going for them which was also a huge burden as well.

While other races have strong innate bodies or greater aptitude for mana, there has always been a disconnect between humans and them. The human race has always felt oppressed for lack of a better word. Taking up only a small percentage of the world’s habitable lands even with their superior numbers, they felt cramped and constrained by the other races that surrounded them.

Many races such as the elves and dwarves even preferred having to deal with the volatile demonkin then the humans. This was mostly due to the humans themselves but one cannot always see when they are the issue or cause of an issue. Demons won’t lie or break treaties so while they are overtly destructive it was just in their nature, something which the demonkin accepted wholeheartedly.

“Daddy!”

‘Oh god… Here we go again…’ Bitter thoughts started to take hold of his mind yet again as he heard the voice of his daughter calling out to him as he returned from training. “Amellia.”

“Dad, why won’t you accept my proposal? It is completely justified and even a positive for our family!” The fire in her eyes startled Elijah and reminded him of the anger that he felt when he watched his wife die.

“Because it is idiotic and a complete disgrace to the August name. I did not think you would be so adamant about something so disgusting, Amellia I am really disappointed in you!” The timber and force in his voice became down right threatening to the teenage Amellia. “He is your cousin! Your own flesh and blood! You don’t even know what race your own aunt is yet you are willing to throw away everything she did for you when you were little! I am done with your nonsense and if I hear any talk of it again, you will be removed from this family!”

Storming off in a whole new pique of rage Elijah August stomped his way straight into the Xan and started looking for something that could relieve some of his anger. Be it beast, demon or some other monster he did not care.

Gabriel sat amidst his grandmother’s garden as he meditated and tried to clear his mind of all the things plaguing him. The actions of the rest of his family had faded from his perception entirely. He no longer tried to be civil with them nor did he show any undue affection to them either. It was like he had become a single moth in the midst of countless butterflies.

He kept to himself to the point where he only ate when food was brought to him. Seamus was angered to the heavens at his grandson’s recent behaviour but the rest of the family sympathized with the pain the boy was experiencing. Left with no recourse, the old patriarch sent Gabriel some food via a maid whenever the family ate.

‘The mana is still coming towards me but my skin won’t let it escape once it enters.’

Constant thoughts swirled around little gabriel’s head as he tried to find solutions for his current conundrum. Just how in hell was he supposed to bring the powerful mana surging beneath his skin out to affect the physical world around him.

The words of his grandmother sounded out within his mind as he once again thought of the profession that could do something about his predicament. Arcane Warrior. An apt name for the group that he had recently began to research with a nigh obsessive amount of zeal.

What he found was disconcerting to say the very least. The arcane warriors as a group were collectively known for one thing, wonton acts of slaughter. The warriors would enter into any battle that challenged their beliefs and ideals, this lead to them being seen as more of an Order then anything else. Similar to the Knights Templar or the Shaolin, The arcane warriors stood aloof from political affairs on paper. But in reality their shadow extended extremely far in many different history books.

While the history of the group was sketchy to say the least, their style and methods however were truly something to behold. Capable of completely disregarding the majority of magics, the warriors gained the moniker of mage-killers. This was only the tip of the iceberg in Gabriel’s research. He found that records stated that each warrior would be in possession of countless tattoos that seemed to be the source of their monstrous power. With nothing to say otherwise the boy started making connections between all the available information he had.

Arcane warriors had everything going for them: speed, strength, skill, even the ability to cast magic was within their grasp. Albeit there was no mention of them casting any high tier magic, it would be next to impossible for them to achieve some of their “outrageous feats” without spells. Even the strongest warrior in recorded history wouldn’t be able to just rend mountains and split the seas. There had to be some way in which the arcane warriors used spells internally or in extremely small scales.

Now all the boy had to do was find out how. Was the key in further refinement of mana? Was it in the power of the physical body that had been boosted with mana? Could their strange tattoos be the key or was it something else entirely?

‘Might as well try using enchantments on my body, it was easy to guide the mana into a sword. So changing the medium for the matrix shouldn’t affect the end product…’

With a goal finally in mind, Gabriel braced himself for any possible issues that might arise. Trying out new magic never went without some accidents happening just because he was a genius didn’t make him immune to this.

Bringing the loose mana within his body he began to form the spell matrix that he was most familiar with: the weight enchantment. Something that took him days of self study to understand after he saw it in his father’s notes.

Instead of inputting the weapon to be enchanted, he set the parameters to alter the weight of his left hand. At first glance the spell matrix accepted the new input information all that was left was the completion of the matrix and the activation of the spell.

With all signs coming back positive Gabriel brought the mana he had been gathering into the completed matrix, triggering the spell to activate. The result: a sudden increase in weight of his left hand!

However the problems started popping up instantly not giving him any time to enjoy his success. His hand had indeed gained “weight” but that was it. Suddenly doubling the weight of one single point of any structure would lead to serious problems, the body was no different even Gabriel’s improved one was not exempt from the laws of physics.