"So, seeing as you're not dead, you must have succeeded."
I nodded at Drake and told him about the experience. But when I got to the strange energy part, he calmly cut me off.
"I think I know what it was. And I'm sure you do too."
I nodded. The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"Either way, that energy won't harm you — it chose you. And frankly, we couldn't oppose it even if we wanted to, so why bother."
I agreed with his reasoning.
"Anyway, now that the demon core is finished, let's move on to the human — the magic core."
I thought about both of us leaving the mindscape, and for the first time since he had tried to kill me, Drake saw the real world with his own eyes.
He didn't react at all. He just looked around for a moment and said, "Let's start."
I nodded and sat down. Drake came in front of me, hovering at eye level, and said, "Now try to suppress your aura core's flow so we can channel new mana without it mixing into the existing pathways."
I closed my eyes and concentrated. Slowly, the mana loop inside me began to wind down, growing sluggish and still. It didn't resist much — it was my mana now, inside my body, mostly under my control.
When it had slowed enough, I opened my eyes and nodded at Drake.
"Good," he said. "Now, I'm already connected to you — closer than any contract could manage. You don't need to do anything formal. Just let me in."
I knew how dangerous it was to let someone else control my mana flow. But I trusted him. And besides, if I died, so did he. There was no room for doubt.
I gave him access the same way I'd give a command to my body's natural defenses — a quiet, deliberate permission.
Drake pressed his hands together, gathered a refined stream of mana, and began pushing it into my chest, compressing it around my heart.
This is exactly why becoming a mage is harder than becoming an aura warrior. With an aura core, even if something goes wrong and the core shatters, you survive. You can force aura to bend to your will. But a magic core demands delicate, precise control. One wrong move and your heart gives out. Just like that.
It's the reason most people choose the aura path. Not because it's weaker — it isn't — but because the risk simply isn't worth it to them.
Drake kept compressing. From somewhere behind my eyes — a subconscious kind of sight — I could see a small shape beginning to solidify inside my chest. A core. Small as a pebble, but real. It wasn't physical, not entirely, so it wouldn't interfere with my heart's function. But it would change things. My blood would carry mana from now on.
The process stretched on longer than I expected. While Drake worked, I had to keep my internal defenses in check and stop my own mana from disrupting the flow he was building. It was like holding two things still at once, each one wanting to move.
About an hour in, something shifted. A feeling of fullness crept in — like my chest was swelling, like my heart had no room left. I was about to say something when a thin wisp of energy slipped into the core on its own. Quiet, unhurried. And then the core turned red. Gradually at first, then all at once — a deep, steady red.
The bloating sensation faded.
I wasn't surprised. The same thing had happened with the aura core.
Half an hour later, the pressure returned.
I recognized it immediately.
"Drake — this is it," I said, keeping my focus locked in place.
I heard a soft thump, and the external mana flow cut off.
I didn't have time to think about that. I turned my attention inward and began pulling mana from the air around me, channeling it toward the core in my chest. The moment it started drawing on its own, I cut the flow.
The shockwave that rolled through me wasn't physical this time — not like before. It was in my head. Like something had quietly expanded. Like I'd been looking at the world through frosted glass and someone had finally wiped it clean.
My thoughts came faster. Clearer. Something had sharpened, though I couldn't name exactly what.
After about ten minutes, I felt the core settle — a steady pulse of mana threading through my blood, stable and sure.
I opened my eyes.
And my stomach dropped.
Drake — his spirit form, the little fireball — was lying in front of me like a dying ember. His flame had shrunk to almost nothing. His usually round, expressive face looked hollow, and he couldn't move. He was completely drained.
I moved to him fast.
"How do I help? Drake, tell me!"
His voice came into my head slowly, like every word cost him something.
"Force... your mana... into me..."
I cupped him in both hands and pushed my mana into him without hesitation. It was like pouring fuel onto a dying fire. His flame caught immediately — brightening, growing, steadying. I kept going until he looked like himself again.
He opened his mouth.
"You absolute leech of a human!"
I blinked.
"You drained me dry! I had to burn through my reserves — if you had taken even a little more, I would've been snuffed out like a candle!"
I stared at him for a second.
Then I started laughing.
"Why are you laughing?!"
"Nothing," I said, still smiling. "Just glad you're okay. And not dead."
He paused at that. Something flickered across his face — surprise, maybe. But he turned away and huffed.
"Of course I'm okay. It takes more than that to put out the great Demon Lord Draken! HAHAHA!"
I shook my head at him. Then said the thing we'd both been dancing around.
"So... we actually did it. Right?"
Drake went quiet. Like the words had taken a moment to land. Then a slow, sly smile spread across his face — and I felt one pulling at mine too.
"Heh."
After a satisfied moment of mutual gloating, he asked, "So how does it feel?"
I clenched my fist, feeling the mana moving through me — both currents, both cores, alive and mine.
"Like we can finally do something about our situation," I said.
Drake gave a small, approving nod. "Good. You got two cores and you're not letting it go to your head. Talent matters, but your mindset is what actually carries you forward."
I didn't argue. He was right.
"So what's next?" I asked.
He looked at me with that smug smile of his.
"Next... we train."
We both knew the road ahead was long. But for the first time, it felt like we were actually on it.
What neither of us noticed — what no one could have seen — was the thin thread of red energy that slipped out from both cores somewhere deep inside Kray's chest. It stretched between them, found the other end, and connected.
A loop. Closed and quiet.
It pulsed once. Then again. Steady as a heartbeat, endless as a current.
What it was doing — what it was becoming — neither of them knew.
Only time would tell.