One week later. Emperor Cedric punished Cassian for his impulsive actions towards the noble of midline, Count Malakor by sending him into a dry seclusion for a week, without any water or food...it was a great escape for Cassian, a place where Lucien won't be around and most definitely a place where he could train his magic properly while the time allows. Some elemental magic to overthrow the shadow magic would do.
To the rest of the Holy Empire of Edrath, Emperor Cedric's punishment was considered minimal for a noble's death, it should have been a month at most. But what can they do?, perhaps even a week of dry seclusion will be like a slow death sentence to a prince used to luxury. Seven days locked in an underground stone vault beneath the palace with absolutely no food, no water, and nothing but the damp, freezing darkness for company?
Crown Prince Adrian had smirked when the sentence was handed down. The servants had wept. Sir Lucien Arden had stood at attention, his jaw tight, fully expecting Prince Cassian to break down, scream, and beg his imperial father for mercy.
But he was proven wrong, instead, Cassian had practically skipped down the dungeon stairs.
'A whole week?' Cassian had cheered internally as the heavy iron doors slammed shut, plunging him into pitch-black isolation. 'No annoying siblings? No imperial breakfasts? And best of all, absolutely zero six-foot-tall, silver-armored executioners breathing down my neck?! This isn't a punishment, it's a fully paid luxury vacation!'
For seven glorious days, Cassian had the time of his life.
With nobody watching him, he didn't have to keep up his exhausting, arrogant prince facade. And more importantly, he could finally focus on survival. In his past timelines, his downfall always began when his emotional stability cracked under the corrupting influence of forbidden Shadow Magic.
'So if Shadow Magic makes me a monster and gets me killed,' Cassian thought, sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor, '–then I'll just have to master standard Elemental Magic to suppress it. Fire, water, wind—anything to overwrite the darkness.'
Running on pure, unadulterated modern spite, Cassian pushed his physical and magical limits. He ignored the gnawing hunger and the dry scratch in his throat, using the intense physical deprivation to sharpen his focus. He summoned embers of fire to warm the cell, condensed the moisture in the air into droplets of pure water to stay hydrated, and channeled the flowing wind currents to cycle his mana.
Day after day, he forced his magical core to expand, shattering his limits over and over again in the quiet dark.
*****
The dungeon gates creaked on day seven.
The heavy iron locks turned with a resounding *CLANG* signalling the unlocked bolts.
A crowd had gathered in the subterranean corridor. Crown Prince Adrian was there, ready to gloat over his brother's pathetic state. A dozen high-ranking servants stood waiting with medical stretchers and heavy blankets, expecting a dehydrated, broken prince who would be throwing a manic, sobbing tantrum as he got out. Well that's if he was still conscious.
Even Sir Lucien Arden stood near the front, his arms crossed over his chest, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the opening doors. He had spent the last seven days deeply unsettled, wondering if the "vile prince" would emerge even more twisted by the dark or even humbled.
The heavy doors groaned open.
A thick, heavy silence fell over the dungeon. But it wasn't the silence of death.
Suddenly, a violent, invisible shockwave of pure, golden-blue mana erupted from the cell. The air pressure in the corridor spiked so drastically that several servants were knocked to their knees. The stone walls cracked under the sheer intensity of the magical resonance.
A brilliant, visible magic circle—glowing with the intricate runes of high-tier elemental wind and lightning—flared under Cassian's boots before dissolving into the air.
He had broken through. The Fourth Magic Circle. An Adept-rank powerhouse at just nineteen years old. A feat that normally took the empire's most brilliant prodigies decades to achieve.
Lucien's eyes widened to the size of saucers, his hand instinctively flying to the hilt of his sword as his heightened senses absorbed the staggering weight of the prince's new power. 'The fourth circle?!' Lucien's mind reeled, his heart hammering against his ribs. 'In seven days of starvation... he didn't weaken. He became a monster. How much hidden talent has he been concealing from the world?!'
Crown Prince Adrian's face went entirely pale, his hands shaking with an explosive cocktail of shock and pure, venomous jealousy.
But Cassian didn't even look at them. He casually stepped out of the cell, looking slightly thinner, his jet-black hair a bit messy, but his crimson eyes were clearer and sharper than they had ever been. He stretched his arms over his head, letting out a massive, relaxed yawn.
"Man, that was a fantastic nap," Cassian casually blurted out, entirely unbothered by the horrified faces staring at him. ' Mhm my skin looks great, my mana is flowing, and I am ready for a massive plate of pasta.'
"Your Highness! Master Cassian!"
Elias broke through the stunned crowd, his face a mask of frantic, crying anxiety. He rushed to Cassian's side, hands hovering over the prince's shoulders as if afraid he might shatter.
"You need to take it easy, you're not well!" Elias pleaded frantically, pulling a heavy velvet cloak over Cassian's shoulders and pressing a cup of warm water into his hands. "A week in the dark without sustenance... please, let the medics examine you! You must rest! In three days' time, we are going back to the Imperial Academy, remember? You cannot afford a relapse now!"
Cassian took a slow sip of the water, his expression dropping back into his default look of profound, elegant boredom as his eyes drifted past Elias and landed directly on the vibrating, hyper-intense form of Sir Lucien.
'Wait... three days?' Cassian's modern college-student brain suddenly short-circuited. 'The academy?! Oh, god, I forgot about school! Exams, noble cliques, annoying professors, and... wait.'
Cassian looked back at Lucien, who was currently staring at him like he wanted to dissect him in a laboratory to understand his sudden power spike.
'If I go back to the academy... that means this six-foot-tall human chainsaw is coming with me. To class. To the dorms. Every single day too?'
Cassian's internal poker face instantly crumbled into despair. 'I survived a week of starvation just to go back to school with my future murderer as a hall monitor. Someone please throw me back in the dungeon right now!!'
*****