After talking for quite a while, Adrian and Jerome finally realized that the sun had begun to set, painting the sky with golden-orange hues. Flocks of birds soared through the air, returning to their nests, signaling the end of the day. Aware of this, the two decided to head home and continue their conversation the next day.
Adrian's house stood humbly by the village road, its walls made of stone and wood, with a triangular oak roof and a chimney rising in the middle. It was not luxurious, but it was relatively spacious compared to other houses in the village. This was where Adrian had spent his childhood—until his mother, Hermine, passed away.
Knock! Knock!
Adrian knocked on the wooden door, but there was no answer. 'Is Uncle Franz not home yet?' he wondered. Franz Erlbaum, the village chief, was often busy with various matters at the town hall. Without waiting any longer, Adrian turned the door handle and stepped inside. The house was engulfed in darkness, amplifying the emptiness that immediately crept over him.
Swiftly, he lit the oil lamps one by one, illuminating the corners of the house that, while familiar in his memories, still felt foreign to his current self. His gaze then landed on an old door near the stairs leading to the upper floor. The wood looked worn, and a thick layer of dust covered the handle.
Adrian let out a quiet sigh. It was the door to the basement—a place he used to visit often as a child before his mother passed away.
That was where he had spent hours reading all kinds of books that expanded his knowledge. If there was any place in this house that might hold the answer to unlocking his Mana Core, it was this basement.
Hesitantly, he touched the rough wooden handle.
"Geez, it's covered in dust," he muttered.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and carefully descended the stairs, the lantern in his hand serving as his only source of light. His footsteps echoed in the eerie silence, blending with the distinct scent of old books and damp wood.
Once at the bottom, his eyes swept across the room. Large chests and crates covered in dusty cloth filled the corners. Sturdy bookshelves lined the walls, their surfaces draped with cobwebs, holding books that had likely not been touched in years.
Adrian ran his fingers along the spines of the books stacked on the shelves.
"Knowledge of Mana..."
"Basics of Mana Core..."
His eyes then landed on a book smaller than the rest. He carefully pulled it out, blowing away the dust that obscured the title on its cover.
"Basic Guide: How to Unlock Your Mana Core."
Adrian stared at the book skeptically. The title sounded almost cliché, reminding him of those dubious online articles back on Earth—cheap tricks that promised easy ways to master magic.
But this was no longer Earth. This was Aterra, a world where magic truly existed.
And perhaps… this book was his only clue.
Adrian's gaze suddenly fell upon a small chest resting on a table near the bookshelf. It was made of iron, adorned with mysterious engravings. Its solid silver-and-black colors added an eerie aura, as if it contained something that was never meant to be found. The lock had already been undone—not secured, as if waiting for someone to open it.
'Why was this chest left unlocked?'
Curiosity slowly took hold of his mind.
Carefully, Adrian opened the chest. Inside, nestled in deep crimson velvet, lay a black dagger, its surface adorned with intricate golden patterns that exuded an air of mysticism.
'What kind of dagger is this?'
Before he could examine it further, a voice suddenly broke the silence.
"Adrian?"
"W-Woah!!" Adrian nearly jumped.
Standing at the doorway was a tall, broad-shouldered man, well over six feet in height. His hair and beard had turned white with age, yet his dark brown eyes remained sharp and piercing. Franz Erlbaum—his adoptive uncle and legal guardian.
"Uncle Franz!? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"You startled me as well, you know?" Franz crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he observed the young man. "What are you doing here?"
"I-I..."
Before Adrian could answer, Franz's gaze shifted to the open chest behind him.
"That dagger..."
His eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by its contents. Without hesitation, he strode forward and picked up the dagger, examining it with a solemn expression.
"What dagger is that... Uncle Franz?" Adrian swallowed hard.
Franz did not answer right away. He stared at the dagger for a moment before letting out a long sigh. It was as if there was something he had wanted to say for a long time, but only now had the time come. Perhaps, Franz thought, the Eternal Light Goddess had guided them to this moment.
"It seems it's finally time I tell you, Adrian."
Adrian looked at his uncle in confusion. "Tell me what?"
Franz stepped closer, lifting the dagger into the lantern's dim light. "Have you ever heard of The Lesser Keys of Theenar?"
Adrian felt his throat go dry. "I know… the seven relics that serve as the keys to sealing The Dark Lord, Kholeus, during the Primordial War in the Second Age, right?"
Franz nodded. "Correct… and this is one of them. Pendragon. The Weapon of Elysium."
Adrian stared at the dagger in Franz's hands with uncertainty. Pendragon? Wasn't Pendragon supposed to be a sacred black sword adorned with golden dragon engravings? But what lay before him now was merely a dagger…
As if reading his thoughts, Franz continued, "This relic originally belonged to your father."
Adrian's eyes widened. "My father...?"
All his life, he had heard very little about his father. His mother, Hermine, had always avoided the topic. The only things he knew were that his father was a brave man, self-sacrificing, and had deeply loved his mother.
Yet now, a faint memory surfaced in his mind—his mother's voice, whispering a prayer in the stillness of the night.
"Oh, Eternal Light Goddess, Asphine... let me be with Berhart just once more..."
Berhart. A name that felt foreign, yet inexplicably familiar.
"He entrusted this dagger to me and asked me to protect Hermine… And you, Adrian," Franz said, his voice softer.
Adrian could only stand in silence, his mind racing with a thousand questions. Franz then took Adrian's hands and placed Pendragon in his palms.
"This belonged to your father. And now… it rightfully belongs to you."
Adrian gazed at the dagger, feeling the cold metal against his skin. Franz slowly turned away, ascending the basement stairs.
"Wait!"
Franz paused, glancing back. "What is it, Adrian?"
"You seem to know my father very well..."
Franz let out a quiet chuckle, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Very… very well."
Adrian gripped the dagger more tightly.
"Then… can you tell me about him? At least… his name?"
Franz looked at him in silence before finally speaking.
"Berhart," he said. "His name was Berhart. You will learn more about him in time."
Adrian remained rooted in place, watching his uncle's figure disappear into the shadows of the staircase.
As his gaze returned to his hands, he was now holding two things—Pendragon in one hand and in the other hand a book titled Basic Guide: How to Unlock Your Mana Core. But then, something strange caught his attention. The author's name… was missing. As if it had been erased, leaving no trace behind.
Adrian furrowed his brows. "Well, I guess that doesn't matter. What's important is the content, not who wrote it."
Carefully, he closed the basement door and made his way back to the kitchen. The night was growing late, and there was one more thing he needed to do—prepare dinner for himself and Franz.
***
The ritual to awaken a Mana Core described in the book seemed fairly simple to Adrian. It only required a few materials: a mana-infused gemstone, a holy crystal, and a drop of Northern Dragon blood. Supposedly, all of them could be easily obtained at the village market.
For the gemstone, Adrian remembered a red necklace that had been given to him by his mother when he was little. After rummaging through the contents of his drawer, he finally found it, hidden beneath a pile of old cloth and faded memories. However, he wasn't entirely sure whether the stone actually contained mana, as required.
"Adrian? Are you even listening to me?" Jerome's voice broke through his daydream.
"H-huh?" Adrian turned his head quickly.
"I said, were you listening to me?" Jerome repeated, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"No?" Adrian replied innocently.
"Ah, Goddess." Jerome frowned, clearly annoyed, then let out a long sigh before repeating himself. "Are you sure this ritual will actually awaken your Mana Core? This book gives a very clear warning—this ritual should never be performed without absolute focus and conviction."
"If we don't try, who knows?" Adrian smiled, as if there was nothing to worry about.
"Hey! You talk like this is just a cooking recipe! This could kill you, you know!?"
Adrian knew, all too well, that this might be his only option. He needed to awaken his Mana Core as soon as possible if he wanted to stay on track in this world like in novel, though he still didn't know the full story. And to be honest, he was too lazy to seek out a safer, slower alternative.
He closed the book How to Unlock Your Mana Core and rose from his seat. "For now, let's go find the ingredients. Let's head to the market." Adrian smiled lightly, almost childlike, as if death was nothing to fear.
Jerome smacked his forehead. "Oh Goddess… I swear, I'm going to feel guilty if I end up helping you kill yourself."
That day, the clock showed eleven in the morning in the village of Rockville. The air was still fresh, even as the sun rose higher in the eastern sky. They walked past the meadows where they often spent time, heading toward the bustling village market.
The marketplace was crowded. Vendors displayed wheat, bread, fruits, and daily necessities. On one corner stood a shop with an old wooden façade and a sign shaped like a bronze tiara—The Bronze Tiara. This shop was known as a favorite among the village's mages, a go-to place for magical tools and mystical relics.
As the door opened, a small bell chimed. The scent of old wood mixed with herbs filled the air. Shelves were lined with scrolls, potions, and even grimoires. But the sacred atmosphere quickly vanished with the cheerful voice that greeted them.
"Oh, it's you two—Jerome and Adrian.
Welcome! What brings you here today? Need magic ingredients, Jerome?"
The middle-aged woman wore a faded blue robe and round glasses. Her brown hair was neatly tied back. Elma—a mage and former adventurer who had chosen to open a magic shop in her hometown.
Ever since Jerome awakened his Mana Core, the two of them had often visited the shop to purchase scrolls and grimoires for basic spell study. Of course, only Jerome did the actual studying. Adrian usually just browsed and listened from a distance. As such, they were on friendly terms with Elma.
'This shop feels like it came straight out of an RPG,' Adrian mused internally.
"Not me this time," Jerome answered, glancing at Adrian.
Elma raised an eyebrow. "Adrian? But I thought you couldn't use magic?"
Adrian smiled sheepishly. "Ah, I just wanted to ask. Can you check if this gemstone contains mana?"
He pulled a deep red necklace from under his shirt. The stone glimmered softly under the light of the hanging lamp.
"Hmm, I can do that. Mana detection is simple for an advanced mage. Let me try..." Elma took the necklace and closed her eyes, gripping the gemstone tightly in her hand.
After a few moments, she opened her eyes and returned the necklace to Adrian.
"I can confirm that the stone does contain mana. But I can't say how much. It's very ambiguous and… murky."
'Good… that's one ingredient down,' Adrian thought. "Is that so? Thank you."
"Anything else you need?"
Adrian then inquired about the two other materials: Northern Dragon blood and a Holy Crystal. Both were available at the shop. After checking the prices, he paid 12 Myra—equivalent to 12 pounds compared to Earth's currency.
"Oh, by the way," Elma said while wrapping the items, "remember, this shop will be closed for a week for the Aestas Festival. If you need anything else, you'd better get it now."
"Thanks for the heads-up, Miss Elma."
After saying goodbye, they made their way to Sanborg River, a more remote and quiet place compared to the usual fields. According to the book, the ritual had to be performed somewhere silent, far from distractions. Adrian knew he couldn't do it at home; the risk of waking Franz was too high.
"Step one: draw a magic circle with the symbol of the moon that represents the Titan of Magic, Aara," Jerome said while rereading the book.
Adrian used the Northern Dragon blood to draw the circle. The metallic scent was sharp and piercing. He drew slowly and carefully, making sure the moon symbol at the center was clear. Once the blood dried, he placed four Holy Crystals on each cardinal point.
Then, he sat cross-legged within the circle, clutching the necklace passed down by his mother.
"Next step, chant the incantation in Igathi. Have you memorized it, Adrian?" Jerome asked.
Adrian nodded confidently. "I have." Igathi is the common language usually used by mages to perform magic.
"Good. When you start to feel the mana, picture it flowing into your body."
Adrian closed his eyes, regulating his breathing. Slowly, he inhaled and exhaled in a calm rhythm. He knew—tension and fear were enemies of this ritual.
Then, he began to chant the incantation.
"You are the humble, yet the grand.
The Titan of Magic, Aara, one of The Keys of Theenar—unto you, I offer everything."
"Radiant as the moonlight, you bestow magic upon every being that dwells within Theenar.
Hear my plea; grant me the chance to awaken the power that lies dormant."
"I call upon your name, Aara, Princess of the Titans.
By your will, ignite the Mana Core within me.
Let Mana's energy flow through my being so that I may wield it for the greater good."
As the final words were spoken, something unseen began to surround him. The very air felt different—heavier, yet more alive. He could feel it—the flow of mana, soft but powerful, like a warm mist seeping into every pore of his body.
'I can feel it! I can really feel it!'
The energy began to enter his body, slowly but steadily. It felt like being submerged in gentle waves, yet his body reacted as if he were sprinting endlessly through a vortex of invisible force.
His body trembled. His muscles tightened. His heartbeat thundered within his chest.
But he endured.
'I have to withstand it. I can do this!'
***
In the heart of Rockville village, the morning peace was now replaced by the lively bustle of preparations for the Aestas Festival—a grand celebration welcoming the summer season, a time-honored tradition in Gorllewin culture, passed down for generations in Borveil.
Villagers worked together, raising tents adorned with vibrant fabrics and garlands of wildflowers, while children laughed gleefully beneath swaying decorations dancing in the warm summer breeze.
Franz Erlbaum, the village chief and a respected figure in Rockville, had been up since dawn. He moved briskly through the crowds of workers, a checklist clutched tightly in his hand.
Funding.
Security.
Community involvement.
The three essentials he couldn't afford to overlook in organizing the festival. Especially since the Aestas Festival carried on into the night—when the darkness of the surrounding forest brought with it the lurking danger of monsters. Rare though they were, it only took one breach to bring disaster. He had to make sure everything was perfect—Rockville couldn't afford to lose a single soul.
In the middle of this whirlwind of activity, the thunder of hooves pounding against stone pulled Franz's attention. A young man in light armor approached swiftly, his expression alight with urgency and the weight of important news.
"Sir Erlbaum! I have a reply from Count Rothsbard!" he called out loudly.
Franz turned to him.
"Oh it's you, Captain Jude. What did he say?"
Captain Jude quickly unrolled a letter stamped with an official seal and read aloud, "Count Rothsbard has approved your request. He'll be sending part of Swancall's garrison to help secure the village during the festival."
Franz exhaled deeply, as though a great burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank the Goddess... Send him my deepest thanks."
Jude saluted, then galloped northward once again, leaving a light trail of dust in his wake. With a calmer heart, Franz returned to the square to coordinate a group of villagers erecting a bamboo gate at the village entrance.
But the calm didn't last long.
BOOM!!
A deafening explosion shattered the morning air, echoing from the east—Sanborg River.
Everyone froze, heads snapping toward the source of the sound. From the center of the village, a column of water—at least five meters high—shot skyward, like a wild geyser erupting without warning. Its thunderous roar split the sky in two.
Franz's eyes widened. "Goddess, what was that!?"
Without hesitation, he shouted to the guards, "Call everyone who can fight! With me, now!"
The villagers scattered—some in panic, others out of curiosity. A stream of people surged toward the riverside, eager for answers to the sudden chaos.
When they arrived at Sanborg River, they stopped in their tracks—struck speechless by the sight before them.
Dozens of fish flopped helplessly on the riverbank, cast ashore by the massive surge of water that had come from seemingly nowhere. The air was still warm, pulsing faintly with residual waves of energy.
In the midst of the disturbance stood two young figures near a partially broken magic circle etched into the ground. One of them sat cross-legged at its center, hands trembling, wide eyes fixed on his palms as though he couldn't believe what he had just done.
Adrian Nightwork.
Franz's adopted son.
Beside him stood Jerome Welcott, his loyal friend, jaw slack, eyes wide and sparkling in stunned amazement.
"Adrian...? Jerome...?" Franz stepped forward, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and disbelief.
Jerome murmured, half-whispering, "T-that was… cool…"
His gaze never left Adrian—or more precisely, the lingering mana energy still crackling subtly in the air around them.
Franz understood it all in a heartbeat. The explosion wasn't caused by a monster. Nor was it a threat from outside. It was a mana surge. A burst of pure energy from someone who had just awakened their Mana Core for the first time.
He looked at his nephew, still seated in the circle, breathing heavily, face bathed in morning light and the quiet shimmer of the river's reflection.
Adrian Nightwork had succeeded. And the force of his awakening… was extraordinary.