Deep Forest of the Arcadia Continent, Three months after the start of training
The morning dew did not merely bead on the leaves of the trees. It seemed to vibrate with its own energy, fueled by the density of the ambient mana. Three months had passed since Irene had dragged her son, Julian, to master his spiritual essence.
Julian stood motionless, eyes closed, shirtless despite the biting chill of the Arcadian dawn. He no longer tried to listen with his ears, but with his magic circuits.
"You are still too rigid, Julian," Irene's voice rose, calm and merciless, behind him.
He sensed her approach even before hearing the rustling of her steps on the moss. Her aura was like a rising tide, cold and deep.
"I am not commanding the mana... I am trying to invite it as you said," he replied without opening his eyes.
