Ever since the day Max joined the clan, the atmosphere had never been the same. For the first few weeks, every single person remained wary of him, their eyes following him wherever he went as if expecting disaster to spill from his hands at any moment. Only Light ran to him every day, talking without end and helping him with the work as though nothing had changed.
The clan had managed to build enough houses to shelter all of their people. The remaining hundred or so villagers still lived with hunger clawing at their stomachs, but even that felt easier to endure with a roof over their heads.
Max had done a lot to make that possible. His muscles ached until they burned, yet he still dragged logs every single day without rest. He was nowhere near as powerful as the warriors of this place, people with dragon blood and strength beyond human comprehension.
Even so, he refused to use his magic to lighten the burden of the heavy loads. He treated every day of labor as training, and in doing so, he made many believe he was trying to repay his sins through sweat and pain alone. Little by little, suspicion loosened its grip, and the clan began to look at him in a different light.
Because of his magic, the mana in the area became so rich that it began condensing into droplets of pure mana. When the first one formed, the clan was thrown into complete turmoil. It was treated like a treasure, something that could strengthen a warrior for weeks with only a single drop.
Soon, more began to appear. In just one week, ten condensed in the woods around them. The warriors were given them first to increase their productivity, while the women and children breathed air so rich with mana that it felt unlike anything they had ever known.
With each passing day, Max looked less like a burden and more like something the clan could not afford to lose.
Rosalia watched him carefully as well. Every single day, when he left to gather mana and hunt animals in the woods for his own food, she followed behind him in silence. She did not fully understand why she kept doing it, but some part of her wanted to make sure that if he stayed, he did so properly and never turned against their clan.
After she finally had time to calm down, she made her decision. She would watch him in silence and make sure he never crossed the line.
At the one-month mark, grim news struck the clan. Not a single crop had survived in the old village. That meant someone had to venture into the Thunder Dragon Region, and Henry took the task upon himself, leaving Rosalia to lead in his place.
He did not return for another month, and during that time, the entire clan lived on edge. More and more eyes began to fall on Max again, as if his existence alone had brought misfortune upon their chief, and all he could do was sigh and endure it. By then, he was already living alone some distance away from the clan.
His hut was small and plain, but for now, he had no need for anything grander. What mattered more was that his control over magic had improved tremendously. He could guide the flow of mana with ease now. Yet there were still two things he had not managed to understand.
One was the system and how exactly it could be used. The other was the runes on his body and what purpose they served. Ever since he absorbed them, they had disappeared into his skin.
When Henry finally returned, darkness was written all over his face. He had managed to bring back seeds for the crops, but with them came even worse news.
From the merchants, he had heard that the Thunder Dragon Region was preparing to expand into these lands. That meant the clan had only two choices before them now: flee, or remain here and face a battle they had no hope of winning.
That night, the clan gathered for an emergency meeting, and Max was not invited. Only the next morning did he learn what had been decided. They would stay. Apparently, this place had become too important, too hard-won, for them to abandon. As for Max, he was given the role of protector in case enemies ever appeared.
Henry came to him personally the following morning with a new task: martial training. They still had time, at least a year before the enemy began scouting the area, and Henry took it upon himself to shape Max with his own hands.
Over the course of that year, Max grew stronger at a pace that shattered Henry's understanding.
In Henry's eyes, his body still felt weak, nothing more than that of an athletic human, but his magic had already become terrifying enough to move mountains if he wished. The void element was beyond Henry's comprehension.
What he could not understand was that Max's real strength lay in the purity of his mana and in reserves deep enough to let him fight for days.
Little by little, Max's battle style changed from the wild movements of a beginner acting on instinct into that of an average warrior with proper training.
It did not turn him into a genius, but it made sure he would no longer be a danger to those fighting beside him.
During that same year, the crops also spread far enough to keep the villagers full. No one could remember the last time life had felt like that. It was a blessing born from ruin. The eyes that had once looked at Max as an outsider now looked at him as one of the clan's protectors.
Even William, who had hated him to the bone, had to admit that Max's presence was the best thing that had happened to their clan. His own strength rose sharply because of the rich mana in the air, allowing him to unleash stronger attacks and bear heavier burdens.
The Ice Dragon Clan continued to grow while caught between the schemes of two powerful clans. The Thunder Dragons still knew nothing about Max, but the Fire Dragons were already searching for ways to destroy both him and the Ice Dragon Clan.
Agnia spent every single day training. The humiliation she had suffered left her hungry for power. If not for Max, she might never have understood how important it was, as a leader, to become someone her clan could truly depend on. In a way, meeting him had forced her to become stronger.
While almost everyone slowly began to accept Max, Rosalia alone remained guarded. After watching him for an entire year, she needed to confirm something for herself, and so one late evening, she came to his hut.
A knock sounded on the door. Max opened it carefully. The moment he saw Rosalia standing there, his eyes widened.
"Max, can we talk, please?"