Chapter 50: The Expeditions Unveiled


    It was another class day, and this time, Glandel stood before the non-gifted recruits. His stern face, scarred from battles no recruit could imagine, surveyed the room. The class was more packed than usual, with all the non-gifted recruits present. Abel sat in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of eyes on him, his new nickname, "Stargazer," whispered among the recruits whenever they thought he wasn’t listening. But no one had dared call him that to his face yet. Not that it mattered. Abel was more focused on what Glandel had to say.


    Glandel cleared his throat, bringing the murmurs in the class to a stop. His voice was gruff, commanding attention as always.


    "You''re aware that after around six months in the Tower, recruits are required to go on expeditions, yes?" he asked, his sharp eyes scanning the room. A few recruits nodded, while others exchanged glances, unsure of what was coming next.


    Glandel continued, “These expeditions aren’t just some glorified camping trip. They’re not for gathering herbs or fighting a few creatures. These expeditions are much more significant than you think.”


    He paced the front of the class, his boots making a steady rhythm against the stone floor. "Each of you will be assigned to strategic locations across the surrounding territories—areas that are critical to the Stone Tower’s interests. Magical points of power, sites that the Tower Master needs to secure and control. You won’t be on your own. Each expedition location will have an Apostle leading it. You’re there to assist the Apostle in carrying out their mission."


    Whispers rippled through the class. Abel leaned forward slightly, feeling the weight of Glandel’s words. A real expedition, with an Apostle leading? The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through him, tempered by a sharp undercurrent of fear. He knew how dangerous the world outside the Tower could be.


    "The missions vary," Glandel continued. "Some might be clearing out lairs of evil sorcerers, slaying creatures that threaten the Tower’s influence, or securing important magical sites. Every task will be dangerous, and you’ll be gone for several months, at the very least."


    Abel exchanged a glance with Nando, who looked equally apprehensive. The idea of being out in the field for months was both exhilarating and terrifying.


    "But," Glandel said, stopping his pacing to face them directly, "this is where you’ll learn the most. Out there, your survival depends on the skills you’ve gained, and the experience you’ll get is invaluable. If you want to become an Apostle, these expeditions are your trial. It’s where you either prove yourself or die trying."


    The room fell silent, every recruit now fully aware of the gravity of what lay ahead. Glandel’s words hung in the air like a weight pressing down on their chests.


    "Being an Apostle," Glandel said, his voice softer but no less serious, "is only the beginning of your path toward mastering magic. Becoming an Apostle means you’ve unlocked the foundation of real power—the ability to harness and manipulate mana. But it’s just that, a foundation. Only with a mana pool can you properly control mana and create magic."


    He paused, letting the statement sink in before asking, "Does anyone know what a mana pool looks like?"


    A girl sitting near the back raised her hand. “It’s like a whirlpool of energy,” she said, her voice uncertain. "Like Gloomeyes, who ascended."


    Glandel nodded. “A whirlpool is one way a mana pool can manifest, yes. But each person’s mana pool is different. Some may appear as a vortex of flames, a pool of water, or even something entirely abstract. The key is, that your mana pool is unique to you. Don’t limit yourself by thinking it will look a certain way. When you’re ready, you’ll know.”


    Abel felt a spark of curiosity. The idea fascinated him. What would his look like? The thought stayed with him as Glandel continued the lesson, explaining that their expeditions would test them in ways they couldn’t yet understand, and that preparing started now—through outdoor missions, improving their magical understanding, and growing their contribution points—was essential for their survival.


    As class ended, Glandel gave them one final warning: "You’ll find out your expedition assignments in a some time. Until then, prepare. As some of you might know, we will have an open gate after your second month here in the tower. This means you are free to explore the inner perimeter before heading out on the expedition. Gain experience outside the Tower. You’ll need every bit of it."


    Abel stood up and made his way toward the door, but he could feel the eyes of the other recruits on him. The nickname “Stargazer” had spread quickly, and now, whispers followed him as he walked.


    He heard a few hushed voices as he passed by: “Did you see his eyes? They glow, like he’s been staring at the stars for days.” Abel frowned. He knew he had to work on controlling his new abilities, especially when it came to stargazing. If he wasn’t careful, his strange behavior could make him a target.


    As Abel stepped into the hallway, the whispering recruits disappeared from his mind. He had much to think about. He had to prepare for the expedition, and with his new abilities tied to the stars, he would have to figure out how to control his growing hunger and understand his path better. There was no room for distractions now.


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    He had a lot to plan for.


    Abel was determined not to waste any more time. He needed to train and practice what he had learned from the knowledge book. His next stop was the Tower’s shop, where he planned to buy a few essentials. Inscriptions, the intricate patterns of arcane energy, fascinated him more now than ever. The knowledge book had been clear—if he could master the art of creating them, he could imbue objects with magic. And if he could inscribe an object with the right combination of runes, it might even take on the characteristics of the magical creature whose blood he used in the process.


    As he walked through the winding corridors, his steps quickened. The Tower''s shop was tucked away in a corner on the first floor, a strange place that both intrigued and unnerved him every time he passed by. He had heard about it but had only visited once to check things out. The shop wasn''t managed by any person. It was something far more unusual, and today, Abel was about to deal with it again.


    The entrance to the shop was marked by two twisted stone columns that looked as though they had once been tree trunks, petrified over the centuries. Inside, the shop was lit dimly by the soft, glowing light that seemed to come from the ceiling itself, making the air feel dense. But what truly drew attention was the tree.


    At the heart of the shop stood a massive, gnarled tree. Its bark was dark and twisted, with silver veins of magic running through it. The roots spread across the floor like the tentacles of some ancient creature, creeping toward the shelves that lined the room. The tree pulsed with a strange, almost sentient awareness that sent a shiver down Abel’s spine every time he looked at it.


    Abel approached carefully, taking in the sight. The shop was eerily quiet—no clerks, no voices, just the slow creaking of the tree’s branches shifting above him.


    “I need some writing utensils and parchment,” Abel said, his voice quiet but clear.


    The tree responded with movement. One of its roots snaked its way across the floor with fluid grace, heading toward a shelf where the supplies were kept. With a gentle curl, the root wrapped around a stack of parchment and lifted it down to Abel. Another root stretched toward a row of quills and plucked one from the shelf—its tip glowing faintly, infused with magic. It handed the items to Abel with a smooth, almost mechanical precision.


    It was unsettling, but Abel had grown accustomed to the strange happenings in the Tower. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small pouch of contribution points. Without hesitation, one of the tree’s thicker roots extended toward him, forming a small hollow at its base where the points could be placed. Abel deposited the points, watching as the hollow sealed up with a soft rustle, absorbing his payment.


    Abel gave the tree a wary glance as he tucked the supplies under his arm. “Thank you,” he murmured, though he doubted the tree cared for his words. The only response was the slow creaking of its branches overhead as the tree seemed to settle back into its silent vigil.


    Abel left the shop quickly, relieved to be out of its unsettling presence. The strangeness of the Tower never ceased to amaze him, but he had no time to dwell on it now. His mind was focused on what lay ahead.


    Returning to his room, Abel set his supplies on the desk and began organizing the parchment and quills. He had a clear plan: practice the intricate rune patterns from the knowledge book. Although he didn’t yet have the magical items needed for a full experiment, he was eager to hone his skills.


    The inscriptions fascinated him. The idea that he could imbue objects with magical properties through the precise drawing of arcane symbols excited him. If he could inscribe an object using magical blood, he wondered if it would absorb some of the properties of the creature it came from—just as the knowledge book had hinted.


    Abel spread the parchment out carefully on the desk. The enchanted quill felt light in his hand, and the ink seemed to glow faintly as he dipped the quill into it. He had memorized many of the patterns from the book, but replicating them by hand would take practice.


    His hand moved slowly but steadily, tracing the intricate symbols and lines that he had studied so closely. The mana-infused ink seemed to guide him, shimmering slightly as it flowed onto the page, forming loops, curves, and jagged edges in precise order. His concentration deepened as he worked, blocking out the world around him.


    Hours passed as Abel practiced, lost in the flow of drawing the complex runes. He occasionally paused to consult the open knowledge book on his desk, checking the finer details of a particular pattern. The symbols seemed to hum with power as he sketched them, and though they were not yet functional, he could sense the potential behind them.


    Finally, after what felt like both minutes and hours, Abel set down the quill. His fingers ached from the steady, delicate work, but he was satisfied with his progress. The parchment before him was filled with intricate runes, each one carefully crafted to perfection. He wasn’t ready to try inscribing an object just yet—he needed the right materials, the right magical blood—but he was one step closer to mastering the art.


    As he glanced out the window, the night had already fallen. Starlight filtered in through the glass, casting a soft glow across the room. The familiar hunger stirred within him again, growing stronger as the stars appeared one by one in the sky. Abel felt the pull, the irresistible draw of the stars calling to him.


    He moved toward his chair and positioned it to face the window. Stargazing had become a necessary part of his life now, a routine that helped ease the hunger he felt whenever the night sky emerged. The stars, distant and cold, seemed to fill him with energy, and as he gazed at them, the gnawing hunger inside him slowly subsided.


    Sitting in his chair, Abel let himself fall into the familiar trance of stargazing. His eyes locked onto the sky, and as always, the stars seemed to respond. Their light filled his vision, and for a while, he felt as though he could see more than just the stars—shapes, patterns, and movements in the cosmos, something far beyond what normal eyes could perceive.


    He wondered what this connection meant. Why had the stars chosen him? And more importantly, what path was he now walking?


    As the night deepened, Abel remained at the window, gazing up at the stars with a sense of both wonder and trepidation. The expedition loomed in the near future, and while he knew the dangers that awaited him outside the Tower, he also knew that his strange new abilities would play a crucial role in his survival.


    For now, though, he allowed himself to relax, stargazing the night away. The hunger ebbed, and the starlight filled him with a strange sense of peace.


    But as always, questions lingered. What else did the stars have in store for him?