After an uneventful visit to the sword space, in which Saith merely scolded Gust for seeking short cuts, the young man decided not to return until he reached the next level of Mana Absorption.

Hoping to make that happen as soon as possible, Gust began to obsess over efficiency. Magical artifacts were hard to find, and far too expensive, so the only way he could speed up his cultivation was through better management of the flow of mana. Geomancy.

He spent most of his merit points on a book Locke recommended and struggled to get through it. Just like when he first read his cultivation manual, this seemed like complete nonsense. Gust needed to keep catching himself returning to his old ways of thought.

Spiritual energy was real, and he wanted to reach Pathway Establishment as quickly as possible, so he could finally see it. While Gust had no more doubts about mana, he still felt strange reading about methods for managing this invisible field of energy.

The benefits were undeniable, however, as Gust quickly noticed his soul filling with mana faster than ever. Cultivation was still slow, but it gave Gust a feeling of hope as he finally had more control over his progress. Whenever he wasn’t studying or working, he was cultivating.

Locke continued visiting once or twice per week and began commenting on Gust’s improvement, with a slight acerbic tone. “You progress more each week than I did my first few years! I was ten when I broke through, and I cultivated every night!”

“You were just a kid. Did you even have a cultivation method?”

Locke shrugged. “Any form of meditation works with pure mana. Just slowly.”

Gust snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Key word: slowly.”

“Maybe just… calm down when you become a mage. Practice your spells or martial arts or something. You’re gonna make me look bad.”

Gust chuckled, but he detected real envy in those words. He wanted to help his friend, but beyond inviting him to share the benefits of the coin’s mana, there wasn’t much he could do. Gust promised to split a jug of spirit wine with Locke, if he could ever afford one, but he had no idea when that might be, or how much it would even benefit the other boy.

Still, Locke brightened slightly at the implication Gust wasn’t going to leave him behind. Friends were rare in the cultivation world; most mages saw each other as competition. Even Isaac and his group of friends were hardly friends. They were simply a group of people with similarly shady morals, who were willing to band together so they could take advantage of everyone else.

The last few visits to Gust’s home showed Locke that life didn’t need to be that way. His cultivation was improving, due the denser mana field around Gust’s coin, and learning geomancy made up for anything Gust lost by sharing the coin’s mana.

Instead of competing for everything, and cutting each other down in the process, mages could pool their knowledge, benefit from each other’s specializations, and be all the better for it!

Gust still visited Saith’s home regularly. He pretended he was still trying to fulfill the Masters’ request. They almost never visited him, but when Gust did speak to Christos or Ephraim, they only seemed to care about the Swordsman.

On one such visit to his father’s former home, Gust heard a familiar voice and crept close enough to listen.

It was Isaac, and he wasn’t alone.

“So he gets to sit in there all day, with all that mana, while the rest of us work our asses off? No wonder he’s progressing so quickly! Can you imagine being so lucky?” The boy was speaking to another who eagerly agreed with him.

When they came into view, Gust’s mood darkened. The group of three guys and two girls stood in a shadow as they surveyed Saith’s home. Their tones were hushed, but Gust saw a few reach into their robes.

Bright metal caught the sun’s light and Gust’s blood ran cold. He pulled up his hood, held his breath, and turned his head in an attempt to eavesdrop. Just on the edge of his hearing were the words, “We need to make it look like the sword’s mana did it, understand? No spells. Clean slices, ideally. The official story will be that something went wrong with the coin. He was never the real owner, anyway.”

Gust swallowed a nervous gulp and slowly rose to his feet. The group was already between himself and Saith’s house. He might be able to rush by, but that was a risk. From their brief fight, Gust knew Isaac was faster than him. Even though he was at the first stage of Mana Absorption now, Isaac was well beyond that.

It seemed they were waiting for Gust to come out. He was relieved the group didn’t notice him as he slipped around a few buildings and eventually emerged on the opposite side.

Gust turned a corner with a smirk as he planned on spending as much time as possible within the sword’s protection. He didn’t know how the defensive spell worked, but surely food could pass through it, right? Even if he needed to stay inside until he reached Isaac’s level of cultivation, he might be able to make it work.

But it turned out Gust wasn’t the only one moving.

Generally, students weren’t supposed to use their mana senses unless it was for training. One’s mana sense could detect others’ mana senses, and in a dense area like the school or a city, hundreds of mana senses covering every square inch of space quickly became overwhelming. It was a matter of politeness and respect which resulted in only the Masters using such senses freely.

Instead of completely opening their mana senses, this group merely peeked at the world, as if through a squinted, magical eye.

While none of them were skilled enough to detect Gust from dozens of yards away, they were still easily aware that someone was approaching the building. They sent one of their number to stand guard on that side, just in case.

It was this young mage with straight black hair and wide shoulders whose face wrinkled as he tried to see under Gust’s hood. His brown eyes widened suddenly, and he called out, “Over here!” while pulling a six-inch long dagger out of his robes.

Gust muttered a curse. The boy was in his way, so Gust tried to head around another building, hoping Isaac’s lackey would chase him. When Gust emerged around the corner, however, he found the boy with the blade. He was waiting and smiling.

In his heart, Gust knew he only had one opportunity. If he didn’t act fast, the rest of the group would catch up and then he was definitely dead.

The path was about ten feet wide. With a shout, Gust charged in, faked to the right, then ran left. He wasn’t a football player, nor a martial artist, all he could do was improvise and hope.

The blade missed Gust’s ribs by a few inches and Gust let himself smile as he tried to run past. Then came a sharp tug that ripped Gust off his feet. His back slammed into the ground and knocked the breath out of his lungs.

The boy had a fist full of Gust’s robes, which he let go as he tried to kick at the prostrate Demon. Gust rolled to the side and started scrambling toward Saith’s home. He had no idea how large the defensive area was but it was the only hope he had.

Without sparing a thought for the angry mage behind him, Gust pushed himself to his feet and charged forward. He only took a few steps before a body crashed into his back. The boy slammed a powerful fist into Gust’s ribs and sent a deep jolt of pain through his body. When the next breath hurt, Gust knew he’d broken a rib.

Momentum carried the duo down the path as they struggled against each other. Gust tried to stay on his feet and keep moving forward, but the boy held him back. He pushed with all his might and fought through those last few steps.

Gust slipped free of the young mage’s grip just as the screams began.

Then he looked down and saw an entire body writhing in thick red blood. It was only then that Gust realized some of it was his own. He didn’t break a rib, after all. He’d been stabbed. The hilt jutted out from between his ribs with a bit of metal gleaming between it and his skin.

Gust froze as he stared down at the bloody blade.

Beneath his gaze, there was a dark mess of flesh that was barely recognizable as the boy Gust had just been fighting with. He whimpered, then stopped moving forever.

At first, the dense sword mana left deep gouges on his arms and chest. When Gust slipped away and the boy fell forward, he had but a moment to sense the danger waiting for him.

As he fell, every inch of motion brought a new round of gashes that quickly covered him from head to toe. His robes were sliced to ribbons and soaked in blood. In the brief moment that Gust allowed himself to look, he couldn’t find even one square inch of untarnished skin.

He turned away and emptied his guts.