Riven: "The first step isn't about swinging a sword or casting some flashy spell. It's about understanding yourself. When you awaken, the system shows you everything—your body, your potential, your class, even parts of your soul. But that's all it does. It doesn't give you power. It just shows you where to look."
Aelric: "Inside you, your skills that you have claimed live there. Think of them like sparks waiting to be lit. But if you don't know where they are or how to reach them, they'll stay buried. That's your first real challenge—finding them."
Riven: "And even once you've found them, that's not enough. They don't just turn on like a switch. You have to connect to them. Without that connection, they're just names—empty."
Aelric: "To connect, you need control. Your mana's not some passive thing—it's alive. If you don't learn how to guide it, it'll fight you, or worse, hold you back. But with control, you can shape it into whatever you need."
Riven smirked, a glint of pride in his eyes. "It's tough for most people. Real tough. But you? You've got it easier than you think. You've already got a solid foundation… and don't forget—we've got god-blood in us. Mana doesn't just listen to us—it likes being in us. It feels at home."
Aelric chuckled, nudging Nerion lightly. "He's not wrong, for once. You've always been a quiet one, steady. That kind of calm? Mana responds to it. Just don't let it go to your head—we still had to bust our asses to learn control, and you will too."
"Alright," Riven said softly, his earlier teasing gone. "Sit down. Close your eyes. Don't overthink it—just feel what's happening."
Aelric knelt beside him and placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "We've got you. We'll feed our mana into you to help you sense it at first. Just pay attention to how it feels, not what you think it's supposed to be."
Nerion nodded and took a slow breath, settling down. The sun-warmed training yard faded behind his closed eyes. He let his thoughts quiet down, focusing only on the steady pressure of his brothers' hands.
He felt it.
Something subtle, like a breeze under the skin. A flow. It entered through the touch of his brothers' palms and danced through his body in ripples—gentle, alive. Mana.
It was like light moving through water.
And then—something changed.
Nerion could see it with his eyes closed , a shimmering, ethereal light that danced just beneath his skin. It moved with a purpose, tracing paths that he had never known existed, guiding him on a journey into the depths of his own being.
The mana surged towards his heart, the organ that had always been the center of his emotions, his fears, his dreams. Now, it became something more—a power source, a beacon of energy that pulsed with a life of its own. With each beat, the mana flowed stronger, more potent, filling every corner of his body with its presence.
Nerion didn't resist. Instead, he let the energy guide him, his consciousness merging with the mana as it snaked through his limbs, igniting every nerve ending, every fiber of his being. He could feel it in his bones, in his blood, in the very air he breathed. It was a part of him now, an extension of his soul.
He followed the mana's path, his mind's eye tracing the intricate circuits that crisscrossed his body. Each circuit hummed with power, a testament to the raw, untamed energy that now coursed through him. His heart, the central node, throbbed with a steady, unyielding rhythm, fueling the his body.
In there , he saw the mana circle, a symbol of balance and harmony. It spun and whirled, a vortex of energy that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Nerion felt a sense of peace, of understanding, as he gazed upon it. He was not just a vessel for this incredible force; he was a part of it, a fragment of the universe's grand tapestry.
With each breath, Nerion delved deeper into the realm of mana. He felt its ebb and flow, its rise and fall, and he knew that he was changing. He was growing, evolving into something more than he ever thought possible. The mana was not just a power; it was a teacher, a guide, a friend.
"That's it," Riven said quietly. "That's your circle. The first current."
"Now go deeper," Aelric added. "Into your mind. Into your soul."
Nerion let go.
Nerion followed their command,
The physical sensations faded, and something else took over. A pull inward, guided not by sight, but by instinct. He followed that pull like diving into dark water.
And he fell.
Then landed.
Silence.
An endless black void stretched in every direction, thick and quiet. Not cold, but… still.
Floating in that dark were three dim, glowing shapes. Not quite stars. Not quite flames. Just light—slowly moving, waiting.
He didn't question it.
He knew they were important. That they were his.
His breath slowed, though he no longer had lungs here. He raised a hand—or the idea of one—and poured mana outward, unsure if he was doing it right.He directed mana through it, weaving it into the first star. It flared. A golden thread formed between them. He reached again—another, then the third. Threads spun from his soul, weaving bonds with the lights.
The first star flickered.
Then pulsed.
A thin, glowing thread shot out from it and tethered to him. He felt it click, like a door unlocking somewhere deep.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Three threads. Three stars. Three bonds.
Each connection felt different. One sharp. One steady. One wild. But all were his. All responded to his mana, not his brothers'.
His skills were awake now.
Nerion opened his eyes, his breath steady, heart still pulsing with the rhythm of mana.
His brothers watched him closely, both of them smiling.
Riven said, "Now you can use your skills at will. Open your system—you'll see a mastery bar under each of your movement and attack skills."
Nerion blinked, then nodded slowly. "So… I really have skills now. I can feel them. Like they're just waiting for me to move."
Aelric gave a short nod. "Exactly. But remember, just having them isn't enough. From now on, every time you use a skill, it'll start to grow. The more you train, the more your mastery increases. And the more mastery you gain, the stronger your skills become."
Nerion opened his system and saw them—his skills, his stats, and beneath each combat skill, the faint line marked Mastery: 0.00%.
Riven pointed at the screen. "Your goal before heading to the Royal Academy is to get those numbers up. At least ten percent. That might not sound like much, but it'll put you well ahead of most of the new students."
Nerion clenched his fists, a spark of determination in his eyes. "I'll get there. I'll push it even higher if I can."
Aelric gave a small smile. "Good. Just remember—after every training session, use your Meditation skill. It'll help you refill mana faster. You'll need it."
Riven added, "And more than that, if you keep up long sessions, that skill can even expand your mana circle. It takes time, patience, and consistency—but it works."
Nerion nodded again, more firmly this time. "So, first step—build up skill mastery. Then work on expanding my circle."
Aelric looked him in the eye. "Exactly. For now, focus on mastery. You're already many steps ahead of your peers. Don't waste that advantage."
Riven smirked. "Make 'em eat your dust when you enter the Academy."
Nerion let out a short breath, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "They won't even see me coming."
Aelric gave him a firm pat on the back. "Good. Then go start your real training."
But before they could move, Nerion blinked and glanced at his system screen .
"Wait," he said, turning to his brothers. "Hey—I still have more unopened rewards. My soul cards."
Riven raised an eyebrow, interest lighting in his eyes. "Oh? You haven't checked them yet?"
Aelric crossed his arms. "Then what are you waiting for? Open them. Soul cards are the core of your power."
Nerion clicked the Auto-Open Cards option.
A moment later, the system responded:
[Soul Inventory Opened – Storing Cards…]
A soft chime echoed in his ears. Then the system interface shifted.
Nerion blinked in confusion. "Soul inventory?"
He quickly tapped on the new option. A translucent screen unfolded in front of him, revealing two organized rows: Items and Summons.
There were 10 cards in total.
1 Item Card – Grade: Common (F)
9 Summon Cards
Of the summons, eight were bundled together and looked identical—plain and gray-edged, labeled:
[Bundle: 8x Common (F) Grade – Subordinate Summons]
But one card stood apart.
It glowed with a faint purple hue. The border shimmered faintly, and the name etched across it made Nerion narrow his eyes:
[Summon Card – Grade: Rare (C)]
Class: Double-Handed Sword Warrior
Nerion leaned closer, eyebrows raised. "What is this one…?"
Before his brothers could speak, curiosity got the better of him.
He pressed Summon.
**A sudden pulse of power flared—**the card materialized midair, hovered for a split second, then tore itself open like fabric.
A gust of energy swirled around them as a figure began to take shape—flesh forming out of nothing, muscle building rapidly, the faint glow of a summoning rune flickering on the ground.
A man emerged—tall, broad-shouldered, battle-scarred. He was naked, save for a single rough cloth tied around his waist.
Nerion took a step back, stunned.
"Uh…"
Riven's eyes widened. "Shit—Nerion!"
Aelric moved forward instinctively, hand on his sword. "You shouldn't have pressed that!"
Even they looked genuinely shocked by what had appeared.
The summoned man dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
"My lord," he said in a deep, steady voice. "I am in your service."
Nerion stood frozen, unsure how to respond.
Riven stepped in fast, his tone sharp. "Damn it, Nerion! You weren't supposed to summon yet!"
Aelric looked around quickly, checking to make sure no one else had seen. "You haven't been legally registered as Awakened yet. You can't keep summons without official approval—it's counted as treason if the wrong person sees it."
Before Nerion could answer, a presence approached from the far edge of the yard.
A tall figure walked in, half-shrouded in shadow until the light caught his face—feline features, sharp silver eyes, and white-striped ears.
Kael'thar, his father's general. The White Claw.
The cat-man stopped a few paces away, gaze locked on the summoned warrior. His tail flicked once, then stilled.
"Interesting," Kael'thar said, voice low but clear. "Young lord… you've summoned a rare one."
Both of Nerion's brothers stiffened at the sound of his voice. Even they hadn't sensed his approach.
Riven turned, narrowing his eyes. "Kael'thar… you saw that?"
Kael'thar's lips curled into a half-smile. "Hard not to. The surge was impressive. And not just any rare summon—this one is… old."
Aelric glanced at Nerion, his tone quiet but serious. "This… just got more complicated."
Kael'thar stepped closer, his heavy boots silent against the stone.
"Don't be worried, young lord," the cat-man said calmly, his silver eyes steady on Nerion. "I am blood-bound to your father. I could never have ill intentions toward your family."
He tilted his head slightly, voice sharpening.
"And if any unwanted component had seen this…" a cold glint flashed in his eyes, "I wouldn't have wasted a second. I would have crushed their head on the spot."
Nerion swallowed, feeling the weight of those words. Kael'thar's presence was terrifying when serious.
The general turned his gaze to the kneeling summon.
"If you are taking too much tension over this summon, young lord, I can crush his head too. Just say the word."
Nerion quickly shook his head.
"No," he said firmly. "I don't want that."
Kael'thar smiled slightly, a rare, approving gesture.
"That's good. Mercy shows strength too."
He folded his arms across his chest.
"Besides, this one is special. Among your father's army of ten thousand, only a few hundred are rare-ranked subordinates."
He paused, his voice carrying an edge of admiration.
"You have better luck than even some of your kin."
Kael'thar's tail flicked once behind him before he continued.
" I will add him to train alongside your older siblings' summons. Get him ready early. But for now, don't summon too much."
Riven nodded seriously.
"Yeah, for now, only bring out the best ones. After you get officially registered, you can open the rest."
Aelric added, resting a hand on Nerion's shoulder.
"And remember, these summons aren't just numbers. They need food, gear, resources. Every one you summon is a responsibility."
Riven grinned a little.
"And you already have enough headaches coming your way, little brother."
Kael'thar stepped forward, arms crossed, the gold of his feline eyes catching the sunlight.
"Summons are different, Nerion," he said, his voice calm but firm. "They don't need special herbs or rare minerals to grow stronger. They grow with you—alongside your rank, your progress. But they can't surpass you. Their strength is tied to yours."
Nerion looked at the purple-ranked warrior still kneeling before him.
"So… he'll only get as strong as I get?"
Kael'thar nodded. "Not Exactly , Their stats and constitution evolve naturally by training , but the ceiling? That's you. The better you are , the more they power they are . But there's one thing you'll need to keep in mind."
Riven leaned in. "Mana."
"Right," Kael'thar said. "They don't generate mana like we do. It's not real mana—it's more like a weaker version that mimics yours. Common ones can't even use skills ,but he can use skills, their output's limited . It's one of their only flaws ."
Nerion furrowed his brow. "Can I see their stats or anything?"
Aelric gave him a thumbs-up. "Yup. System'll show you everything. Class, health, loyalty, stats—it's all in your interface. You should check it before you enter into a battle."
"Especially in the Soul Tower," Riven added. "Summons are clutch in there. You'll want strong ones, and this guy—" he nodded to the rare warrior "—is a hell of a start."
Nerion tilted his head. "I didn't mean to cause trouble… about the whole treason thing. I just got excited."
Kael'thar chuckled softly. "You're not the first young lord to do this. Summoning one, in private? Not a big deal. But bulk summoning without legal registration? That's different." His eyes sharpened. "That's how the Crown sees rebellion."
Riven let out a slow whistle. "Yeah… let's not start a civil war on your first day."
Aelric grinned. "Just focus on this one for now. He's rare, and rare means valuable."
Kael'thar gave a slight nod, amused. "Then let him prove himself. He's yours now. And just so you know, your father has only allowed your siblings thirty summons each based on what our resources can support."
Riven looked over at the summon again, then clapped Nerion on the back.
"Not bad, little brother. Looks like you've got better luck than us."