As the sun shone brightly over the grand Academy, the sound of countless footsteps echoed across the training field. Elyon's class was in the middle of their physical training, running laps along the long track. All the students wore their standard training clothes—simple garments consisting of a plain white shirt and short pants that reached just to the knee. The fabric clung to their sweat-drenched skin as they pushed their bodies through the morning drill.
Mr. Grakner stood off to the side of the track, arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching them intently. His sharp eyes scanned each runner with the precision of a hawk. He didn't blink, didn't move, simply observed with a stern presence that added weight to the already grueling session.
Most of the students were exhausted. Their steps had become sluggish, their breathing heavy and erratic. Yet Elyon, though clearly tired, felt he still had more stamina left in him than the others. He noted this observation with a hint of dissatisfaction.
"Man," Elyon thought, "even with all the experience I gathered in my past life, this is still really hard. I thought I would have adapted to this body by now, but it's not as simple as I hoped. The strength, the coordination—it's all different."
As he glanced around, Elyon noticed that Alan, along with most of the class, had been pushed past their limits. Some students still had a bit of strength left in them, managing to maintain a steady pace, but they were clearly few in number.
"Okay, okay, stop," Mr. Grakner finally called out, his voice loud and authoritative.
At his command, the students came to a halt. Some collapsed onto the grass without hesitation, lying flat on their backs as they gasped for air. Others remained standing, hands on knees, trying to recover from the intensity of the drill.
"Hmph," Grakner thought to himself, eyeing them all with visible disdain. "All of these kids… so weak, so utterly pathetic."
"Alright," he barked, clapping his hands sharply, "all of you, get into formation! It's time to learn."
The students, though clearly worn out, slowly dragged themselves into position. They gathered in a semi-circle around Mr. Grakner, each of them still trying to catch their breath. Sweat poured from their foreheads and soaked their shirts. Despite their exhaustion, every pair of eyes was fixed on their instructor.
"Today's topic," Grakner began, his tone still sharp and unwavering, "is how to use vital essence and healing magic."
There was a small murmur among the students. Some straightened up a bit more, intrigued.
"As some of you may know," he continued, "vital essence focuses on both the physical and emotional components of one's being. It is the lifeblood of many restorative and enhancement-based magical disciplines."
"Vital essence allows for spells like healing, regeneration, and more. Its scope is vast, but today we're narrowing our focus."
He paced slowly in front of them as he spoke.
"Vital essence spells are categorized into three distinct types: Infliction, Amplification, and Recovery."
His voice grew a bit louder, to emphasize the point.
"Today's lesson will be focused entirely on the Recovery type. Within this type, we have two main branches: Regeneration and Healing."
He paused, giving them a moment to process.
"Now, I want to make sure no one gets confused. Regeneration refers to the re-creation of lost limbs or damaged body parts. Healing, on the other hand, deals with the mending of small-scale injuries and the restoration of stamina. The difference is subtle but critical."
"To use a healing spell, one must learn to concentrate their essence both on and within themselves. It is not enough to direct energy externally. You must connect with your own vital force of you essence ''
He turned and looked over the class with a calculating stare.
"However, those who do not naturally possess an affinity for vital essence will find this process far more difficult.
"Now," he said with a raised eyebrow, "who among you has an affinity for vital essence? Raise your hand."
A few students lifted their hands. Elyon noticed about a third of the group identified themselves. Without hesitation, Grakner nodded.
"Those who raised your hands, step to this side. The rest of you, remain where you are."
The students who had shown affinity for vital essence moved to the left side of the field. The others—those who had not—remained behind. Elyon stayed where he was, amongst the latter group.
"Alright," Grakner said, "the students without an affinity, you're coming with me. The rest of you will remain here and begin practicing with the assistant instructors."
He began walking away without waiting for a reply. The non-affinity students, including Elyon, quickly followed. Elyon's mind buzzed with questions as he walked. How can i unlock vital essence?
They walked until they were a good distance from the main group. Grakner finally stopped, turning to face them with a look that was a mix of challenge and command.
"To unlock vital essence," he said, "there are three known methods: Sacrifice of Self, Circle of Echoes, and the Bleeding Pact."
He let that sink in before continuing.
"Out of all these, the Sacrifice of Self is the method you all will be attempting today."
His eyes narrowed.
"In this method, you must willingly give up something within you. A spell, a memory—something significant. Something that matters to you. That sacrifice becomes the key to unlocking your dormant potential."
A hush fell over the students as they listened.
"The choice of what to sacrifice is yours. But it must be something real, something meaningful. If it's trivial, the essence will not be stirred. Once you've made your decision, you must enter the 'Void State.'"
He walked slowly between them now, voice steady.
"In the Void State, you must recall the memory or skill you intend to sacrifice. You must relive it, visualize it as clearly as you can—then you must dissolve it, convert it into pure essence energy. Only then can you hope to harness the power of vital essence."
Grakner turned to leave. "So, chop chop," he said with a wave of his hand. "Start trying. I'll be checking in after I assist your vital-essence-using classmates."
The students sat down or stood still, eyes closed, trying to concentrate. Elyon took a deep breath and knelt onto the ground. He cleared his mind, focusing inward.
What could I give up? he thought. What is worth sacrificing to awaken the vital essence within me?
After Mr. Grakner fully left, Elyon and the other students settled into a meditative stance on the training ground. The area had grown quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the wind and the occasional shift of clothing as someone adjusted their position. Each student closed their eyes, focusing deeply, trying to still their thoughts and quiet the world around them.
The task was clear: enter the Void State.
One by one, as they cleared their minds of external distractions, they began to slip into that elusive internal space. It wasn't a place one could reach with sheer effort—it required letting go, drifting inward until only silence and self remained.
Elyon's breath slowed. His heart rate calmed.
Then, without warning, he opened his eyes—and he wasn't on the training field anymore.
All around him stretched a vast, infinite darkness. Not frightening, but serene. Familiar. There was no ground, no sky, no sound. Just the emptiness of the Void.
"Ah," Elyon whispered to himself, his voice echoing faintly in the space. "This place… it's been a very long time since I've been here."
Elyon stood still for a moment, soaking in the weightless quiet. Then, he began to think.
"Which skill should I give up?"
It wasn't a decision to be taken lightly. The Sacrifice of Self required letting go of something valuable—something meaningful. In exchange, he would awaken his ability to wield vital essence.
He weighed his options, running through his known spells.
"I have four spells," he began silently. "Light Bolt, Central Sight, Arcane Ray, and Magnes Shield."
His brow furrowed slightly in thought.
"Light Bolt is off the table. It's the one I've mastered best. I've relied on it countless times. It's my foundation in a fight."
He crossed his arms as he stood, the darkness gently swirling around him like mist.
"Arcane Ray... no. I spent too long learning it. It's powerful, versatile, and rare. Giving it up would be like throwing away a part of myself I fought too hard to earn."
That left two possibilities.
"So it's between Central Sight or Magnes Shield."
He walked through the Void, though there was no ground beneath him. Just the movement of thought carrying him forward.
"Magnes has a defensive anchor, a reflex at this point."
He sighed, shoulders heavy with the decision.
"Which means… it has to be Central Sight."
It wasn't easy. Central Sight had its uses—it allowed him to track energy flows, see through illusions, and detect weaknesses. But in the grand scheme of things, it was the one he could afford to lose.
"Alright," he said out loud to the Void, "I've made my choice. Central Sight it is."
With that, he focused inward again—specifically on his eyes. He summoned the spell as he always did, letting the arcane energy gather and pulse behind his vision. A flicker of light rippled through his iris as Central Sight activated.
Then, Elyon raised one hand, palm open. He concentrated on the activated spell, locking in on the energy signature. Slowly, deliberately, he began drawing it out, pulling it from his body into his hand. The glow left his eyes and coalesced into a small, floating orb of dark green and red light hovering above his palm.
This was the essence of Central Sight—pure, condensed, shimmering with magic.
He stared at it for a long moment. Then, with a deep breath, he willed it to break apart. The orb unraveled, breaking down into threads of golden-white energy. They swirled in his palm like strands of starlight.
As the last trace of the spell faded from within him, Elyon felt it—Central Sight was gone. The connection severed. He would never cast it again.
But in its place… something else awakened.
The swirling light condensed again, this time glowing a warmer hue. It pulsed with life, not arcane force. This was different. This was vital.
"I did it," Elyon whispered. "This… this is vital essence."
It hummed in his hand, gentle but powerful. He could feel its resonance within him now, responding to his breath, his heartbeat, his intent.
He had made the sacrifice. And in doing so, he had unlocked something new.
As Elyon slowly opened his eyes, the fading remnants of the void state shimmered around him. Blinking away the disorientation, he noticed that several students were still suspended within the void state, their bodies glowing faintly with residual energy. Others, like him, had already awakened, gathering themselves as they prepared to leave. Rising to his feet, Elyon took a deep breath, the weight of the trial still lingering on his shoulders. Without a word, he joined the small group of students making their way back to the training grounds.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the academy—Capas Corner—Charles stood facing a group of students who bore a striking resemblance to Elyon, their noble heritage evident in their posture, expressions. Three boys formed the group, each exuding quiet disdain. One of them stepped forward, his voice laced with anger and accusation. "You think you're better than everyone just because you were born royal, you cocky bastard," he snapped. "We know what you did to Alex." The air grew tense, heavy with unspoken threats and simmering resentment, as Charles met their gaze without flinching.
Charles remained completely unmoved, not the slightest trace of amusement crossing his face. A single rose twirled lazily between his fingers, its petals catching the sunlight as brilliantly as his silver hair and glowing eyes.
He met their hostility with a calm, almost playful smirk. The tension around him only seemed to entertain him.
"You children really know how to stir up trouble," he said coolly, his voice dripping with mockery. "All bark and no bite—just talk, no fight. How about we change that… right now?"
His challenge hung in the air, daring them to make the next move.
"You bastard!" one of the boys shouted, fury contorting his face as he lunged straight at Charles, fists clenched and reckless with rage.
But then without Sound organs and blood fell make a big pool on the ground. As the boy that was once attacking fell to the ground with a large graping hole on the left side of his stomach area. A hole big enough so that his intestants are visibly fall out.
The other two boys stood frozen, eyes wide with horror, their confidence shattered in an instant. The smell of blood hung thick in the air, mixing with the faint hiss of decay.
Charles tilted his head slightly, his silver eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Human nature really is amusing, isn't it?" he said, his voice calm—almost bored.
Without breaking eye contact, he began walking toward them. Slow, measured steps. No hesitation. No mercy. The ground seemed to darken beneath his feet, and with every step, the weight of his presence grew heavier, pressing fear into their bones.