ã€ŠMagi of Sinlungã€‹


 Prologue

    The princely state of Xiaxo rests like a hidden jewel in the southern reaches of the vast Kirat Empire. Once a collection of indigenous lands, its terrain is as diverse as its history: undulating hills stretch endlessly toward the Xiaxoan horizon, lush and veined with cascading streams. To the east, fertile plains give way to windswept grasslands, and to the south, the mighty Luxo Ocean churns, carrying whispers of distant shores. For centuries, Xiaxo¡¯s rugged landscapes and vibrant cultures remained untouched by the outside world, preserved by their isolation. Yet in this era of magic-fueled industrialization, the state finds itself caught at a crossroads where the threads of tradition and modernity are tightly intertwined¡ªsometimes in harmony, often in conflict.

    Xiaxo¡¯s past is etched in blood and resilience. A mere century ago, its people waged a desperate twenty-year war against the Kirat Empire, a sprawling dominion notorious for its iron-fisted rule. The Empire¡¯s magical artillery¡ªgleaming weapons capable of obliterating entire hillsides¡ªand their airborne war machines, known as Aeras, turned the tide of battle again and again. The war was a lopsided affair: Xiaxo¡¯s tribes, bound by a love for their land and an unmatched knowledge of its terrain, resorted to guerrilla tactics. In the dense forests and treacherous hills, they launched ambushes and vanishing strikes, their unity forged by shared suffering. Each tribe brought something unique to the fight: the shadow-dwellers of the eastern plains, who moved like whispers through the night; the coastal mariners, who turned their ships into nimble raiding vessels; the hill-dwellers, masters of tracking and setting traps.

    But even the most cunning strategy couldn¡¯t hold back the Empire¡¯s relentless advance. The people of Xiaxo endured atrocities that stained the annals of history: entire villages razed, families torn apart, mass graves concealed in the earth¡¯s embrace. Men and women disappeared without a trace, their fates whispered in rumors of secret prisons and forced labor camps. To this day, the stories of those years are told in hushed voices, their pain undiminished by the passage of time. The scars left by those atrocities ensured that Xiaxo¡¯s people would never truly see themselves as part of the Kirat Empire, even after their defeat.

    When the war finally ended, the Treaty of Nerma formalized Xiaxo¡¯s annexation into the Empire. The terms were steep and humiliating: self-governance was partially allowed with tributes and taxes being forced upon to the people of the land, and the practice of Xiaxo¡¯s indigenous magics was outlawed, though the people still secretly practiced it. Yet, the end of the war marked not only a loss but also the beginning of a transformation. Over the next hundred years, Xiaxo became a hub of trade, innovation, and learning. Its strategic location¡ªa crossroads between the Empire¡¯s eastern colonies and its central heartlands¡ªturned it into a bustling center of commerce. Magic academies sprouted in its cities, drawing students and scholars from across the Empire. Factories powered by both steam and spellcraft churned out goods that flowed into Imperial coffers. Xiaxo¡¯s capital, Tlangthar, came to be known as the ¡°fifth capital¡± of the Kirat Empire, a testament to its newfound prominence.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Yet, beneath the surface, Xiaxo¡¯s identity remained a battleground. Before the advent of teleportation portals and the Empire¡¯s road networks, the region¡¯s isolation had been its greatest protector. The steep, craggy hills and winding dirt paths made travel arduous and time-consuming; rivers were the lifeblood of commerce and communication, their meandering courses connecting scattered communities. This natural seclusion had allowed Xiaxo¡¯s traditions to flourish, untainted by external influences. But now, those traditions were under siege.

    The Dysno, the Empire¡¯s state-sanctioned religious order, played a central role in this cultural erosion. As part of its ¡°civilizing mission,¡± the Dysno imposed its doctrines on Xiaxo¡¯s people, declaring their tribal magics heretical and their ancient practices barbaric. Temples dedicated to Xiaxo¡¯s old gods were torn down, replaced by gleaming spires where priests preached the virtues of ¡°modern magic and science.¡± The Dysno¡¯s schools became mandatory for Xiaxo¡¯s children, their curriculums designed to erase ancestral knowledge and instill loyalty to the Empire. Over time, the rhythms of daily life changed. Ritual dances performed under starlit skies grew rare; the songs of elders, once sung to teach and preserve, began to fade into silence.

    Yet, not all were content to watch their heritage disappear. In hidden valleys and forgotten corners, small enclaves resisted the tide of assimilation. Elders passed down forbidden spells in secret, their voices hoarse with urgency. Rebel scribes copied ancient texts by moonlight, smuggling them out of the Dysno¡¯s reach. Xiaxo¡¯s people had endured conquest and oppression before; they would endure this, too. But the question loomed: how much of their identity could survive?

    This story unfolds at a pivotal moment in Xiaxo¡¯s history, a tipping point where the forces of empire and tradition collide with unprecedented intensity. Ancient secrets, long buried beneath the hills, begin to stir, their power awakened by the hum of modern inventions. The crumbling ruins of Xiaxo¡¯s past hold answers that could shape its future¡ªanswers sought by both those who wish to preserve its legacy and those who aim to exploit it.

    It is a time of colonization and resistance, of invention and rediscovery. The Kirat Empire¡¯s reach grows ever stronger, its gaze fixed on Xiaxo¡¯s untapped potential. But the people of Xiaxo, though battered, are not broken. Their story is one of survival, defiance, and an unyielding connection to their land. In the shadow of empire, as airships cast long silhouettes over verdant hills and factories churn out smoke that blots the sky, the people of Xiaxo stand at a crossroads. Will they find a way to reclaim their destiny, or will their identity be swallowed by the relentless march of progress?

    As the first notes of this tale are struck, one thing is certain: the winds of change are blowing across Xiaxo. They carry with them the scent of the ocean, the whispers of forgotten gods, and the promise of a future yet unwritten.

 Chapter 1

    Twilight bathed the city of Tlangthar in hues of orange and purple as the earth groaned and shook violently. For over a minute, the tremor seized the land in its relentless grip, rattling the bamboo-and-concrete skyscrapers that adorned the hills. When the shaking finally subsided, a long, ominous sigh reverberated across the city, as though the earth itself mourned. The sounds of panic soon rose to replace the eerie silence.

    People spilled out of their modest homes, clustering in the flat expanse at the top of the hill. This central space, flanked by the residences of the chief, his advisors, and key experts, mirrored the design of all Xiaxoan towns and cities. The homes of ordinary citizens dotted the slopes below, growing smaller and humbler as they descended. Tlangthar was a city of 2 million souls, an interconnected tapestry of hills and high-rises, where even the chief¡¯s house eschewed grandeur in favor of practicality.

    The gathering crowd surged with questions, their voices blending into a frantic murmur. At the center of this unease stood Zakop, the chief of Tlangthar, a supposedly middle aged man with black hair, moustache and a beard, his features commonplace, the only thing that made him stand out was his scar across the face of what seemed have gotten in battle. When he finally emerged from his reinforced bamboo porch, flanked by his family, the noise died instantly. His presence commanded respect, a testament to the trust his people had in his leadership.

    Zakop was joined by his advisors: Chinzah, a formidable warrior and skilled hunter, and Pupi, an enigmatic elder whose mastery of divination and magical runes was unmatched. Their arrival underscored the gravity of the situation.

    Zakop raised his hands, his voice steady and deliberate. ¡°My people, do not be alarmed. We are aware of the quake and are taking all necessary measures. Our elders, who are not present, have already departed to investigate the epicenter, accompanied by magical engineers. Rest assured, we will uncover the cause of this disturbance.¡± He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. ¡°The day is still young. Please return to your homes and resume your duties. Be careful, and may the Dysno watch over you.¡±

    With a bow, Zakop clasped his hands in a ceremonial gesture. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, their fear tempered but not entirely quelled. Respect for their chief kept them from questioning him further, though unease lingered in their hearts.

    As the last of the people left the square, Chinzah and Pupi approached Zakop on the porch.

    ¡°My lord,¡± Chinzah began, his tone grave, ¡°this event is unprecedented. Nothing of this magnitude has occurred in recorded history.¡±

    ¡°The runes are behaving oddly,¡± Pupi added, his wrinkled hands clasping his staff. ¡°They¡¯re neither jammed nor hacked, but long-range communications with the Empire have been severed. We¡¯re isolated for now.¡±

    Zakop nodded thoughtfully. ¡°The information branches will be crucial. Summon all our resources to assess the situation.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Zakop moved his hands in a clockwise motion, weaving a spell. His eyes glowed faintly blue as mana coursed through him. After a minute of concentration, he lowered his hands, his expression troubled.

    ¡°What did you learn, my lord?¡± Chinzah pressed, his brows furrowed.

    ¡°Tlangthar has suffered no major damage,¡± Zakop replied, his voice heavy with thought. ¡°The neighboring town of Pamchai reports the same, as does our port city, Leilung. However, long-range tele-runes remain unresponsive. We have no word from the Empire. We must send an aerial mage squad to the capital to gather intelligence.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Before they could discuss further, a figure clad in white priestly robes landed on the porch. The bishop¡¯s sudden arrival drew respectful bows from the three leaders.

    ¡°Chief Zakop,¡± the bishop intoned, his voice resonant yet cold. ¡°The Church has instructed me to deliver this message: things are changing, perhaps for the worse. Take necessary precautions. May the Dysno watch over you.¡±

    Without waiting for a response, the bishop turned and departed, his robes billowing behind him.

    ¡°He came, spoke, and left in an instant,¡± Zakop muttered, lighting a cigarette from his tobacco pouch. ¡°These priests do enjoy their air of mystery.¡±

    Chinzah and Pupi exchanged knowing glances but said nothing. Zakop gestured for them to follow him inside. ¡°Come, let¡¯s have tea. We¡¯ve just prepared Mana-tufted Serow jerky.¡±

    <hr>

    Inside Zakop¡¯s modest yet sturdy home, the scent of smoked meat mingled with the earthy aroma of tea. The three leaders discussed strategies and contingencies late into the evening, their voices low but urgent. After half an hour, Chinzah and Pupi departed, leaving Zakop to his thoughts.

    In the kitchen, Zakop¡¯s son, Larin, stood washing dishes. The young man¡¯s long, pitch-black hair was tied back, revealing bronze skin and sharp black eyes that mirrored his father¡¯s. His movements were unhurried, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

    ¡°Father,¡± Larin called without turning, ¡°why did the earth shake like that? Have we angered Sinlung?¡±

    Zakop leaned against the doorframe, his cigarette smoldering. ¡°I do not know, my son. I communed with Sinlung before coming inside, but the answers were vague. The land shared only the barest hints of information.¡± He exhaled a stream of smoke. ¡°It is worrying, but remember what I told you: do not speak of Sinlung and Khiuniu when the bishops are present. The people¡¯s hearts may still hold faith in them, but the Dysno tolerates no rivals.¡±

    Larin nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile as he began to hum a familiar folk song:

    The world, the world

    Man needs Khiuniu

    Man needs Sinlung

    Man cannot survive alone.

    Zakop¡¯s gaze softened. The song, passed down through generations, was a quiet rebellion against the dominance of the Dysno. It reminded him of the resilience of their people¡ªa strength they would need in the days to come.

    <hr>

    Later that night, Zakop stood alone on his porch, gazing at the starry sky. The city below him was quiet, the earlier panic replaced by uneasy slumber. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing on his shoulders, heavier than ever before. The quake had shaken more than just the land; it had disrupted the delicate balance of their world.

    He thought of the bishop¡¯s cryptic warning, the malfunctioning runes, and the silence from the Empire. Each piece of the puzzle hinted at a larger, more dangerous picture.

    A faint rustle behind him broke his reverie. Turning, he saw Larin standing in the doorway, his expression curious.

    ¡°You should be asleep,¡± Zakop said, his tone lighter than before.

    ¡°So should you,¡± Larin countered with a small grin. ¡°What happens now?¡±

    Zakop considered his son¡¯s question. ¡°Now, we prepare. The world is shifting, and we must be ready to face whatever comes.¡±

    Larin nodded, his youthful determination shining through. ¡°I want to help.¡±

    Zakop¡¯s lips twitched into a rare smile. ¡°In time, you will. For now, rest. Your time will come sooner than you think.¡±

    As Larin retreated into the house, Zakop remained on the porch, his thoughts churning like a restless sea. He could sense that the quake was merely the beginning of something far greater, something that would test the resilience of not just Tlangthar, but the entire Empire.

    Above him, the stars seemed to shimmer with foreboding, their light both a comfort and a warning. The night held its secrets tightly, and Zakop knew that unveiling them would come at a price. But for the sake of his people, he was prepared to pay it. And so, he communed with Sinlung again, the spell [Sinlung] had countless uses, but it was mainly used to commune and divine, the spell construct fizzled in the air as Zakop stood there motionless. After an hour of being in a trance, he woke up and whispered ,¡±What does it all mean ?¡± while looking at the two moons of Sinlung.

 Chapter 2

    The next day, at twilight, the quake struck again. This time, the panic was subdued. People stayed inside their homes, bracing for the tremor that shook the entire state awake. Engineers, their bodies enhanced with magical techniques, worked tirelessly to stabilize the cities, their foresight ensuring minimal disruption.

    As the sun rose over Tlangthar, life resumed with a sense of determination. It was the month of First Green, a time of renewal after the restful, celebratory months of Frost. The city bustled with activity as its people returned to their daily routines, invigorated by the season¡¯s energy.

    Down by the rivers at the base of the hills, women fetched water in massive, reinforced bamboo sections, each as large as a tree trunk. Meanwhile, the men prepared breakfast, infusing their meals with care and reverence. The air filled with the rich aroma of Xiaxoan rice, boiled and fried lentils, smoked sambhar broth, green and red chili paste, and steamed lettuces. Every dish was prepared using intricate spells and rituals that not only enhanced the flavors but also honored the spirits of the land. These practices were ingrained in every Xiaxo child from the time they could walk, fostering a deep respect for nature and their community.

    In the Zakop household, the chief sat with his wife, Moimui, and their son, Larin, at the breakfast table.

    <hr>

    Larin: "Father, Mother, why do we need to perform all these spells for our food? Isn¡¯t it enough to just cook it?"

    Moimui: (smiling) "Larin, our food is a gift from the land. The spells aren¡¯t just about cooking¡ªthey honor that gift. Every ingredient has a spirit, a story, and preparing it with care shows our gratitude."

    Zakop: (nodding) "It¡¯s about balance, my son. The land gives to us, and we must give back. These rituals ensure we take no more than we need. It¡¯s a lesson you¡¯ll understand better as you grow."

    Larin: (thoughtful) "But doesn¡¯t the land just grow things on its own? Why do we need to do anything at all? Isn¡¯t it just nature¡¯s way?"

    Moimui: "Nature¡¯s way, Sinlung and Khiuniu includes us, Larin. We¡¯re part of the cycle. By participating, we ensure it continues smoothly. It¡¯s not just survival¡ªit¡¯s harmony."

    Zakop: (with a gentle smile) "And when you master these rituals, you¡¯ll find they¡¯re more than just work. They¡¯re a connection to something larger than ourselves."

    Larin nodded, savoring the Mana-tufted serow broth as he considered their words, tasting the care and reverence infused into the meal.

    Throughout Xiaxo, every city featured large barracks, strategically located and larger than most buildings. These communal hubs were where young adults and elders gathered to organize activities like fishing, hunting, construction projects, and even raids. Elders and experts delivered lectures and debated political, philosophical, and magical theories, fostering learning and collaboration. The barracks were also central to the Magic Academies¡¯ credit system, where participants earned points for completing missions. These points could be traded for books, artifacts, charms, and other valuable items, blending tradition with tangible rewards.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Later that day, Larin wandered to the barracks, intrigued by the bustle of activity. There, he found Pupi, the wise elder and master of magical arts.

    Larin: "Pupi, may I ask you something?"

    Pupi: (chuckling) "You may, though I can¡¯t promise I¡¯ll answer everything, young one."

    Larin: "Why do we need these credit points? Shouldn¡¯t people help the community because it¡¯s the right thing to do?"

    Pupi: (raising an eyebrow) "Ah, an idealist! The points are not just rewards, Larin. They motivate and organize efforts. Humans are complex. Even the noblest causes sometimes need a little encouragement."

    Larin: "But doesn¡¯t that make it less pure? Like people are only helping for what they can get?"

    Pupi: (smiling) "Purity of intention is important, yes. But practicality matters too. The points system ensures every task, no matter how small, gets the attention it deserves. It¡¯s not about greed; it¡¯s about recognizing effort and fostering collaboration."

    Larin: "But didn¡¯t we live without this system before? Wasn¡¯t it simpler then?"

    Pupi: (with a wistful look) "Before the Great War, things were different. Your father was only 200 years old then, and your grandfather gave his life in that war. Back then, we didn¡¯t have these systems¡ªbut the war changed everything. We had to adapt."

    Larin: (hesitant) "Still, isn¡¯t there a danger in valuing effort with points? What if people start doing things just for the points and not because they care?"

    Pupi: (leaning forward) "A wise question. That¡¯s why we teach balance. The points are tools, not the purpose. It¡¯s up to each person to remember that the true reward lies in strengthening the community. Tools can be misused, yes, but they can also build wonders."

    Larin¡¯s eyes brightened. "So, the points are just a way to ensure things get done, but it¡¯s still up to us to do them for the right reasons?"

    Pupi: (nodding) "Exactly. You¡¯re beginning to see the bigger picture, Larin. That¡¯s the first step to wisdom."

    <hr>

    As they spoke, a commotion erupted nearby. A young man, Thanpau, was sprawled on the floor, shoved there by Shylo, a burly man with a defiant expression.

    <hr>

    Shylo: "Thanpau, you don¡¯t belong here! A motherless child like you should know your place. You¡¯re not even pure!"

    Thanpau, though physically unshaken, looked deflated under the weight of the insults. He remained silent, meeting Shylo¡¯s gaze with quiet resolve.

    Pupi: (in a commanding tone) "Shylo, this is the barracks. Conduct yourself with dignity."

    Shylo grumbled but stormed out with his entourage, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

    Thanpau bowed toward Pupi. "Thank you, elder. I¡¯ll do better next time."

    Pupi: (nodding) "No thanks needed. Stand tall, Thanpau. Your worth is not defined by others¡¯ words."

    Larin rushed to Thanpau, helping him up.

    Thanpau: (softly) "You shouldn¡¯t associate with me, young lord. You¡¯ll only bring trouble upon yourself."

    Larin: (firmly) "We¡¯re all equal under the gaze of Sinlung and Khiuniu."

    As Larin turned to follow Pupi, he asked, "Pupi, why do things like this happen? Why didn¡¯t you punish Shylo for what he did?"

    Pupi clenched his teeth. "This has always been our struggle, Larin. Some cling to old prejudices, valuing bloodlines over character. It¡¯s not the way of Sinlung or Khiuniu, but such beliefs linger. Change takes time¡ªand strength."

 Chapter 3

    Pupi hummed a lively tune, his eyes closed as if savoring a private melody. A sudden thought struck him, and he stopped mid-hum. ¡°Larin,¡± he said, his tone carrying a teasing lilt, ¡°are you bunking the academy again? You do realize how lucky you are to be enrolled in the Hermeticus Magicus Academy, one of the finest in the empire?¡±

    Larin flushed slightly but held his friend¡¯s gaze with a sheepish grin. ¡°I was just on my way,¡± he quipped, letting out a chuckle before turning to leave.

    The bustling city unfolded before him, a living mosaic of sights, sounds, and scents. The air carried a mingling of aromas¡ªfreshly ground herbs, sizzling street food, and the faint tang of oXiaxoanne from magical artifacts in use. Vendors lined the streets, their voices competing as they hawked wares ranging from gleaming trinkets to bundles of rare ingredients. ¡°Fresh mana blooms! Guaranteed potency!¡± cried one, while another bellowed, ¡°Enchanted quills, half-price today!¡±

    Guards patrolled the streets in pairs, their polished armor reflecting the glow of enchanted streetlights. These lights, powered by a vast network of magical circuits embedded in the smoothstone roads, illuminated every corner of the city. Towering skyscrapers dotted the skyline, their designs a testament to the ingenuity of engineers who had overcome the challenges posed by the hilly terrain. The buildings shimmered faintly, their surfaces reinforced with protective spells.

    Larin weaved through the crowd, exchanging greetings with familiar faces. A baker waved a flour-dusted hand. ¡°Late for class again, Larin?¡± he teased.

    Larin grinned but didn¡¯t stop. ¡°Not if I hurry!¡±

    Eventually, he reached the outskirts of the metropolis, where the Hermeticus Magicus Academy stood like a sentinel on a distant hill. The sprawling campus occupied the entire hill range, its elegant spires visible from miles away. As he approached the ornate gates, they shimmered to life, scanning his face and magical imprint.

    ¡°Spike, hope you¡¯ve been well,¡± Larin said, nodding at one of the guards.

    Spike, a burly man with a neatly trimmed beard, grinned. ¡°As well as an Aether Kite in the wind,¡± he replied, his voice tinged with warmth.

    Larin waved and hurried past, his thoughts already on the day ahead. The academy was divided into tiers: apprentices, seniors, magi, scholar magi, and expert scholar magi. Larin, still an apprentice, headed toward the main apprentice hall. A glance at the timetable posted by the entrance made him mutter a curse under his breath. ¡°Magical Theory. Great. And I¡¯m late. Sir Ewin¡¯s going to have my head.¡±

    He pushed the classroom door open slowly, its creak announcing his arrival. The room fell silent as every head turned toward him. Sir Ewin, a tall man with sharp features and a tailored cloak, raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ah, Larin. How kind of you to join us. Since you¡¯re here, why don¡¯t you assist me?¡± His tone was genial, but the mischievous glint in his eyes made Larin¡¯s stomach twist.

    Reluctantly, Larin stepped forward, feeling the weight of the class¡¯s gaze. His friends Gwendon, Ngieri , and Rinku sat in the front row, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°Larin, demonstrate a basic magic circle,¡± Sir Ewin instructed.

    Taking a deep breath, Larin raised his hands, moving them in a deliberate, clockwise motion. A luminous circle appeared, its intricate patterns glowing softly in the dim room. The class murmured in appreciation.

    ¡°Well done,¡± Sir Ewin said, nodding approvingly. ¡°+1 credit. As you all know, magic circles are foundational to spellcasting, but they are far from the only method. Magic, in its essence, is boundless. To define it would be to constrain it, yet leaving it undefined invites chaos.¡±

    With a flick of his wrist, Sir Ewin conjured a two-layered magic circle, its complexity far surpassing Larin¡¯s. ¡°Magic circles guide and focus energy. Some spells require a power source, while others do not. Components can enhance effects¡ªfor example, dried tinderball leaves amplify fire spells. However, our ancestors wielded magic without circles, relying on disciplines such as shamanism, divination, and alchemy. Today, I will introduce you to a concept called combo magic.¡±

    He gestured for Larin to maintain his circle as he created another. Tendrils of energy reached out, linking their circles. ¡°Hold steady, Larin,¡± Sir Ewin instructed, his voice calm but firm.

    As Larin focused, Sir Ewin began crafting additional circles. The air shimmered as ten circles materialized, their intricate designs interlocking. ¡°This is an example of layered magic. Combining circles allows for greater complexity and power.¡± With a sweeping motion, he fused the ten circles into one, its patterns now a mesmerizing array of symbols and glyphs.

    ¡°You need not start with ten layers,¡± he advised. ¡°Begin with two, then build incrementally. Now, observe the practical application of combo magic.¡±

    Sir Ewin¡¯s circle tethered to Larin¡¯s once more, the connection shifting in color and intensity. Larin felt a surge of information, instinctively adjusting his circle to align with Sir Ewin¡¯s intent.

    [Frost] Sir Ewin intoned, casting a spell that enveloped a practice dummy in ice. Larin followed with [Fireball] his spell striking the frozen target. The combined effect was catastrophic; the dummy shattered and vaporized in an instant.

    The class erupted in murmurs. Sir Ewin raised a hand, silencing them. ¡°The dummy, made of reinforced leather and bamboo, lacks anti-magic or resistance runes. Alone, our spells would¡¯ve been insufficient. But in tandem, they magnified each other¡¯s effects. This is why synchronized magic is invaluable, especially in combat. A battalion of fifty synchronized magi could fell a young Titan.¡±

    He turned to Larin. ¡°+1 credit for adapting so quickly. Return to your seat.¡± Larin nodded, relief washing over him as he rejoined his friends.

    Sir Ewin continued. ¡°Now, let us delve into Shamanism. While our knowledge is limited, its applications can be lifesaving.¡± He retrieved a six-foot totem from his void storage, the wooden artifact etched with runes and symbols. ¡°This is a rejuvenation totem. It heals injuries, alleviates mental strain, and restores mana within its radius.¡±

    Planting the totem on the floor, he activated it. A wave of ethereal energy radiated outward, enveloping the room. The students sighed collectively, their minor ailments fading.

    ¡°Research on totems remains ongoing, as well as most of the Magic of Xiaxo, shadow-dwellers, Coastal mariners and Hill-dwellers are recuperating and waiting for their magic to be restored and made better,¡± Sir Ewin said, deactivating and storing the artifact. ¡°They were instrumental during the Great War, though many techniques have been lost. Future discoveries depend on scholars like you.¡±

    He glanced at the clock. ¡°That concludes today¡¯s lesson. Practice the concepts discussed, and remember: the pursuit of knowledge is unending. Class dismissed.¡± Without another word, he strode out, leaving the students buzzing with excitement and newfound determination.

 Chapter 4

    The classroom emptied in a flurry of chatter and laughter as students dispersed. On the first bench, Larin lingered, sitting with his closest companions: Gwendon, Ngieri, and Rinku. Each of them brought a unique personality and background to their tight-knit group.

    Gwendon, tall and long-haired, had bronzed skin and a face so striking it often earned him more attention than he wanted. Beneath his outward charm, however, was a sharp mind deeply engaged in the study of magic. Ngieri, on the other hand, was petite and full of energy, her ponytail bouncing as she spoke. Her fair bronzed skin and ever-optimistic demeanor often set her apart, and her devotion to Dysno, the divine entity worshiped by many, added a layer of spirituality to her presence. Lastly, there was Rinku, tall and wiry with intricately braided hair. Her pale bronzed skin and passion for runes and engineering made her a standout among their peers, and her curiosity about Shamanism made her a natural counterpart to Larin¡¯s broad magical aspirations.

    ¡°I thought Ewin was going to have your head today,¡± Rinku teased, nudging Larin with her elbow.

    Larin shrugged with a sheepish grin. ¡°I thought so too. Maybe he¡¯s just tired of scolding me by now.¡±

    ¡°He probably knows you as the chronic latecomer. I bet he¡¯s resigned himself to the inevitability of it,¡± Gwendon added with a smirk. ¡°I was almost late myself, though.¡±

    Ngieri leaned forward, wagging a finger. ¡°You would¡¯ve been late if I hadn¡¯t stopped by your house to drop off food this morning!¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Gwendon admitted, laughing. ¡°Ngieri, the savior of my reputation.¡±

    The conversation shifted as Rinku spoke up, her voice growing more serious. ¡°What do you all make of these quakes? They¡¯ve been so strange lately¡ªlouder, sharper. It¡¯s not like any earthquake I¡¯ve ever heard of before.¡±

    Larin¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Even my father doesn¡¯t have any news about it. All we know is that the rest of the Empire is cut off. Tele-runes are malfunctioning everywhere. I¡¯m worried the Empire might see this as an act of aggression and escalate things unnecessarily.¡±

    Rinku nodded, her expression grim. ¡°Pupi once told me about something similar during the Great War. There was a quake back then¡ªnot as prolonged as these, but it wasn¡¯t natural either. He said a single instance of it obliterated an entire battalion of magi. Vaporized, just like that. He described it as a beam of light from the sky.¡±

    The weight of her words hung in the air as the group fell silent, each lost in their thoughts. The quakes had become a topic of both fascination and fear, their origins cloaked in mystery. But no one had answers, only theories. After a while, the conversation shifted to lighter topics as they prepared to head back to the city.

    <hr>

    By early evening, they had reached the bustling city streets. The crowd of apprentices and townsfolk moved like a tide, filling the air with the sounds of chatter, footsteps, and distant street performers. The apprentices who lived in nearby villages or towns often stayed in hotels or with relatives, while those from farther regions were housed in the Academy dorms.

    As they strolled along, Gwendon suddenly turned to the group with a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°How about we go fishing? The weather¡¯s perfect, and we can be back before morning.¡±

    Rinku grinned. ¡°If we leave now, we could be back by eleven. Sounds like a plan to me.¡±

    Larin, always the organizer, nodded. ¡°Alright. Meet me by the city gates in half an hour. Bring whatever you¡¯ll need.¡±

    They parted ways with a cheerful farewell¡ª¡°Phawts¡±¡ªa casual goodbye unique to the young adults of Xiaxo.

    <hr>

    Half an hour later, three of them were already waiting by the city¡¯s grand gates. Ngieri, Gwendon, and Rinku leaned against the stone walls, their excitement palpable.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Larin?¡± Ngieri asked, tapping her foot.

    As if on cue, Larin came sprinting down the road, his arms full of gear. ¡°Sorry! Took longer than I thought,¡± he panted, dropping the load in front of them. ¡°I brought everything we¡¯ll need: cooking pots, an axe, a spear, leather tarps, utensils, and even some food. If we¡¯re out late, we can camp.¡±

    The group laughed as they began dividing the gear. Larin¡¯s over-preparedness was both endearing and practical.

    Once equipped, they passed through the city gates. Their identity tags were scanned by the engineers stationed there, logging their departure into the city¡¯s magical database.

    <hr>

    The journey began with a debate over their destination.

    ¡°I think the Tich River will be lively this time of year,¡± Gwendon suggested.

    Ngieri shook her head. ¡°The Tlong River would be better for camping, but it¡¯s crowded. Everyone¡¯s out hunting and fishing for magical components.¡±

    Larin weighed their options before deciding. ¡°The Tich it is. It¡¯s farther, but worth it. If we push hard, we¡¯ll get there in about four hours.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s not waste daylight,¡± Rinku said, a competitive gleam in her eye. Without warning, she bolted ahead, her laughter trailing behind her.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s like that, is it?¡± Gwendon shouted, sprinting after her.

    Larin and Ngieri exchanged grins before activating minor body-enhancement spells. [Agility] and [Stamina Boost] made their strides feel weightless as they leaped after their friends, the thrill of the race filling the air.

    <hr>

    The landscape made roads snakelike and zig zaggy, every other 100 meters or less had a sharp corner to cut, and the forest was an Undergrowth forest with dense vegetation that not even sunlight could penetrate,  Undergrowth forests had this feeling that they were Ancient. The forest around the Tich River was serene, the fading sunlight casting golden hues across the landscape. The group arrived just as dusk settled, their laughter echoing through the trees as they caught their breath.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Larin said, setting down his pack. ¡°We¡¯ll set up camp here. Let¡¯s split up¡ªGwendon and I will gather firewood. Rinku and Ngieri, you set up the tarps and start prepping the cooking area.¡±

    ¡°On it,¡± Rinku said, already unpacking supplies.

    As the boys disappeared into the forest, the girls worked efficiently, their movements practiced and coordinated. Rinku laid out the waterproof tarps while Ngieri arranged the cooking pots and ingredients. Soon, a small fire crackled in the clearing, its light dancing on their faces.

    When Larin and Gwendon returned with loads of firewood tied to a long rope with three to four bundles each, the camp was already taking shape. The group settled into an easy rhythm, each contributing to the meal preparation. The scent of spiced lentils and rice soon filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.

    As they ate, the conversation drifted back to the mysterious quakes.

    ¡°You know,¡± Ngieri said between bites, ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories about the Empire¡¯s experiments with ancient magic. What if these quakes are their doing?¡±

    Gwendon frowned. ¡°That¡¯s a dangerous thought. If it¡¯s true, we¡¯re in more trouble than we realize.¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± Rinku added, her tone speculative, ¡°what if it¡¯s something even older? Something the Empire can¡¯t control?¡±

    Larin poked the fire with a stick, his expression unreadable. ¡°Whatever it is, time will reveal it, or we may help solve the mystery. But tonight, let¡¯s just enjoy ourselves. We can¡¯t solve the world¡¯s problems on an empty stomach.¡±

    The group laughed, the tension breaking as they focused on the warmth of the fire and the camaraderie they shared. The mysteries of the quakes could wait¡ªat least for one night.

    <hr>

    Later, under a sky studded with stars, they cast their fishing lines into the river. The water shimmered with faint bioluminescent hues, a sign of the magical life teeming beneath its surface.

    Rinku leaned back, her rod balanced against a rock. ¡°You know, nights like this remind me why I chose the Academy. Magic isn¡¯t just about power or knowledge¡ªit¡¯s about connection. To each other, to the world.¡±

    Ngieri nodded. ¡°And to Dysno. There¡¯s a reason they gave us this gift. It¡¯s up to us to use it wisely.¡±

    Gwendon smirked. ¡°Leave it to you two to turn fishing into a philosophical debate.¡±

    Larin chuckled. ¡°Hey, they¡¯re not wrong. But right now, I¡¯m more focused on the spells I¡¯ll be using to catch fish.¡±

    The night wore on, filled with laughter, stories, and the occasional splash of a fish, calls of birds and rustling in the distant bushes. As the stars wheeled overhead, the group¡¯s bond felt unbreakable, their shared experiences weaving them closer together. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they knew they would face them as one.

 Chapter 5

    The Tich River was a shimmering expanse of life and magic, its waters reflecting the moonlight in hues of silver and gold. Bioluminescent plants and algae created a surreal glow beneath the surface, their light shifting and swirling with the current. The riverbank was dotted with tall reeds and flowering aquatic plants, each emitting faint magical pulses. Even the stones lining the shore glimmered faintly, infused with latent magical energy. In this magical ecosystem, every ripple and shadow seemed alive, pulsing with unseen currents of energy.

    A fourth of a mile to the east, four campers¡ªLarin, Gwendon, Ngieri, and Rinku¡ªhad pitched their shelter near a shallow bend of the river. Their tarpaulins were staked between sturdy trees, forming a cozy, sheltered glade lit by the tiny, magical firepit. The air was crisp and held the faint perfume of river blossoms overlaid with the rich earth smell of wet soil. Fireflies imbued with faint magical auras flitted around, adding to the enchantment of the night.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go,¡± Larin said, lifting a spear impregnated with a mundane [Detection] rune. ¡°We¡¯ll catch whatever we can and make something of whatever we get.¡±

    Rinku, already preparing her specialized gear, grinned mischievously. ¡°And we¡¯ll do it all in style. Let¡¯s see who catches the most.¡±

    Each member of the group contributed in a different way, incorporating indigenous techniques with creative spellwork. Their first catch was a Glowtail Luminidae, a small, translucent fish that shimmered like liquid light. Ngieri threw an enchanted net into the water, casting it in a place where the glow was brightest. The net¡¯s [Attraction] spell drew the fish closer to her, the shimmering creature wriggling helplessly as she pulled it in.

    ¡°Glowtails are great for extracting light essence,¡± Ngieri said, holding up the fish. ¡°Good for lanterns or potions.¡±

    Beside her, Gwendon worked with a long fishing rod embedded with a [Vibration Sense] rune. The rod¡¯s enchantment allowed him to feel even the faintest tremors in the water. With a practiced flick, he hooked a Stonebeak Sturgeon, its jagged, rocky scales scraping against the line as it thrashed violently.

    ¡°A good catch,¡± Gwendon said, straining to reel it in. ¡°The scales of this one can be ground into powder for strengthening runes. They¡¯re tough as anything.¡±

    Larin, standing knee-deep in the river, relied on a combination of spells and intuition. He cast a [Water Manipulation] spell, creating subtle currents that funneled fish toward him. When the time was right, his spear plunged into the water, skewering a Thunderfin Eel that crackled faintly with electric sparks even after death.Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Careful with this one,¡± Larin warned, holding the eel aloft. ¡°Its electric organ is potent. Great for energizing magical devices or enhancing lightning spells.¡±

    Rinku¡¯s approach was the most mechanical. She had set up a small device of her own invention: a magically powered contraption with spinning gears and pulsing runes. The device created a mild magnetic field that attracted metallic or magically charged fish. A Magmafin Trout fell prey to the device, its scales glowing with fiery fissures that looked like molten lava frozen in motion.

    ¡°Perfect for heating spells or alchemical reactions,¡± Rinku said, examining her catch. ¡°And look at those fissures. Pure fire essence.¡±

    As they worked, the river¡¯s ecosystem revealed its intricate beauty. Tiny bioluminescent creatures darted in and out of view, weaving through magical kelp that glowed faintly. The air was filled with the hum of nature¡ªthe distant croaks of amphibious creatures, the rustling of reeds, and the occasional splash as a fish leapt above the surface. Every element of the river¡ªfrom the plants to the stones¡ªseemed to play a role in sustaining its magical harmony.

    Suddenly, a large shadow glided beneath the surface, catching everyone¡¯s attention. The shape was unmistakable: an Obsidian Fathomfish, its body jet-black with streaks of glowing magical energy running like veins along its sides.

    ¡°That thing is huge,¡± Ngieri said, her voice hushed with awe. ¡°And fast. How are we supposed to catch it?¡±

    ¡°Together,¡± Larin said firmly, gripping his spear. ¡°Let¡¯s do this together.¡±

    Gwendon stepped forward first, swapping his fishing rod for a spear. ¡°I¡¯ll draw it closer. Ngieri, get your net ready. Rinku, can you use your device to create a distraction?¡±

    Rinku nodded, already adjusting her contraption. She activated a [Light Pulse] spell, causing the device to emit a series of bright flashes that momentarily disoriented the fish. The flashes illuminated the water in brilliant bursts, casting stark shadows across the riverbed.

    Ngieri cast her net into the water, its [Binding] enchantment glowing faintly. ¡°Ready when you are.¡±

    As the fish darted toward the light, Larin used [Water Manipulation] to create barriers, narrowing its path and guiding it toward Gwendon. ¡°It¡¯s heading your way, Gwendon!¡±

    Gwendon hurled his spear with precision, its point grazing the fish¡¯s side and slowing it down. The Obsidian Fathomfish writhed violently, its glowing lines pulsing brighter as it struggled. Then, it began to phase in and out of the shadows, a defensive mechanism unique to its species.

    ¡°It¡¯s trying to escape!¡± Rinku shouted, her eyes narrowing as she adjusted her device for another attempt at distraction.

 Chapter 6

    Larin¡¯s eyes narrowed as the Obsidian Fathomfish flickered in and out of shadow, its phasing ability making it nearly impossible to catch. With a steady breath, he raised his hand and cast [Light Lock], a spell designed to halt such elusive movements. A faint glow surrounded the fish, freezing its flickering ability in place. ¡°Now, Ngieri!¡± he shouted.

    Ngieri, already poised with her enchanted net, acted swiftly. The net¡¯s glowing [Binding] runes activated as she tightened it around the thrashing fish. ¡°Pull!¡± she called, and with Gwendon and Larin¡¯s combined strength, they dragged the enormous creature onto the riverbank. It lay still, its sleek, obsidian body shimmering under the moonlight, glowing lines along its scales pulsing faintly with residual magic. The group exchanged triumphant smiles, their teamwork etched in the glistening prize before them.

    As the night deepened, the group gathered around their fire to prepare their haul. The crackling flames cast warm, flickering light on their faces as they spread a large tarp over the ground. Each fish was carefully laid out, its unique traits and magical properties ready to be examined.

    Rinku knelt beside the Obsidian Fathomfish, her sharp eyes tracing the glowing veins that coursed through its scales. She ran her fingers along the lines, her expression a mixture of awe and calculation. ¡°This shadow essence is potent,¡± she said, her voice filled with appreciation. ¡°It¡¯ll be invaluable for crafting stealth runes or shadow-infused weapons. Imagine armor that cloaks the wearer in darkness or a blade that cuts through light itself.¡±

    Ngieri held up the Thunderfin Eel, still faintly sparking with residual electricity. ¡°This one¡¯s electricity will be perfect for energy-based charms,¡± she said, examining the shimmering skin. ¡°The oil extracted from its body is also an exceptional conductor. Alchemists will fight over this kind of material.¡±

    Gwendon inspected the Stonebeak Sturgeon, his hand running over its jagged, rock-like scales. ¡°These scales are tough as steel and infused with earth magic,¡± he observed. ¡°They can be ground down to enhance armor, making it resistant to both physical strikes and magical attacks. Shieldsmiths will pay a premium for something like this.¡±

    Meanwhile, Larin worked on the Magmafin Trout, its molten-like scales radiating faint heat even in death. ¡°The fire essence in this one is remarkable,¡± he said, carefully removing the scales. ¡°It can amplify offensive spells or be distilled into alchemical fire. These fissures in its scales are practically oozing with raw energy.¡±

    Ngieri, examining the diminutive Glowtail Luminidae, smiled as its bioluminescent body shimmered faintly. ¡°This one may be small, but its light essence is powerful,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s perfect for clarity and focus potions, and its fins can be ground into powder for creating glow runes. They¡¯re highly sought after for enchantments.¡±

    The group worked with precision and efficiency, their combined knowledge transforming the evening¡¯s catch into valuable components. Scales, fins, oils, and essences were carefully stored in enchanted containers, preserving their magical properties for future use. By the time they finished, the tarp was empty, and their packs were brimming with treasures from the Tich River.

    The group settled around the fire, exhaustion tempered by satisfaction. The night sky stretched endlessly above them, stars twinkling like fragments of crystal scattered across the heavens. The river¡¯s gentle hum seemed to echo their thoughts, a melody of nature and magic intertwined.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°This trip was worth every effort,¡± Rinku said, leaning back against a log. Her braided hair caught the firelight, glowing faintly. ¡°We¡¯ve gathered enough materials to keep us busy for weeks. And that Fathomfish? A true prize.¡±

    Ngieri nodded, her smile warm. ¡°And we did it together. That¡¯s what made it fun. It¡¯s always better when you can rely on your friends.¡±

    Gwendon¡¯s gaze lingered on the flames, his voice thoughtful. ¡°Nights like these remind me of what¡¯s truly important. The work we do, the connections we have, the bond with the land and the magic within it. It all comes together out here.¡±

    Larin, his eyes reflecting the firelight, added, ¡°And it¡¯s a reminder of how much there is to learn. Each fish, every stone, every ripple in the river has a story, a purpose in this vast ecosystem. It¡¯s our job to respect existence.¡±

    The fire crackled softly as their conversation faded into a comfortable silence. The stars above seemed brighter than ever, their light mingling with the faint glow of the river¡¯s magic. The harmony of the Tich River enveloped them, a testament to their unity and the resilience that defined their bond.

    Before dawn, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The Quake shook them awake, its deep, rumbling vibrations unsettling even the calm river. Pots rattled, and the tarps swayed as the tremors subsided.

    ¡°Another one?¡± Ngieri murmured, her voice tinged with unease. The group exchanged glances, the strange phenomena of the Quakes weighing heavily on their minds. Larin stood, brushing dirt off his clothes. ¡°We should move. Better to head back to Tlangthar before anything else happens.¡±

    Packing quickly, they extinguished the fire and hoisted their packs. The dense forest around them was pitch black, the pre-dawn hours amplifying every sound. They cast a shared [Light Orb], the glowing sphere floating ahead and illuminating the zigzagging dirt paths that led toward Tlangthar.

    As they trekked through the undergrowth, the sound of trickling water caught their attention. Following the noise, they stumbled upon a natural spring nestled between two hills. The sight was mesmerizing: a pool of water glowing faintly with mana, its surface rippling with ethereal light.

    ¡°The Natural Spring¡¯s water is glowing,¡± Rinku whispered, her voice filled with reverence. ¡°These are infrequent occurrences. We¡¯d be fools not to investigate.¡±

    Natural springs like these were lifelines of the land, feeding into larger rivers and sustaining biodiversity. They were hotspots for rare resources, including the elusive [Source Spring Stone], a gem capable of generating a vast amount of mana-infused water. Hunters, alchemists, and magi often sought out such springs, though encounters were rare.

    The air around the spring was charged with energy, thick with mana that seemed to vibrate through their very bones. Small creatures¡ªAether Barking Deer, Mana-Tufted Serows, and even a few Mist Crested Civets¡ªgathered cautiously at the edges, drawn to the spring¡¯s allure. But something felt off. The water¡¯s surface was bubbling unnaturally, each burst releasing small clouds of mist that thickened into a fog.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel right,¡± Gwendon said, gripping his spear tightly. The group moved closer, their senses heightened. The bubbles grew more aggressive, the mist swirling as if alive.

    Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The bubbling ceased, the mist hung frozen in the air, and an eerie silence fell over the spring. Time itself seemed to freeze around them. From the center of the spring, a figure emerged¡ªa Dryad with curly hair like tangled vines and a body of ashen bark adorned with glowing blossoms. Her presence was otherworldly, exuding both awe and a palpable sense of unease.

 Chapter 7

    The first instinct of the group was to ready themselves, gripping weapons and focusing their mana. Yet, as the figure emerged, an overpowering aura enveloped them, rooting them to the spot. The Dryad¡¯s presence was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Its aura wasn¡¯t simply magical; it resonated deeply with the land itself. The faint rustling of leaves accompanied the floral sweetness that permeated the air, carrying a hint of warning amidst its pleasantness.

    The Dryad stepped onto the pond¡¯s surface, its feet creating ripples of light. As it moved closer to the shore, grass sprang up from the barren ground, blooming with vibrant flowers and small vines. Every step brought an explosion of life, as if the world itself bent to accommodate its passage. The figure¡¯s form shimmered with an ethereal glow¡ªa melding of bark-like skin, intricate floral patterns, and glowing veins that pulsed with mana.

    The group watched, frozen in awe and trepidation, as the Dryad stopped a few meters before them. Its glowing eyes swept over each of them, pausing on each face for several long breaths. The intensity of its gaze made them feel exposed, as though it peered directly into their souls.

    Finally, the Dryad raised its hands, crafting patterns in the air. A triangle of light formed first, then a circle, the two merging into a harmonious shape that radiated energy. The air vibrated gently, not with words, but with an understanding that resonated in their minds:

    Fellow creatures, fellow creatures,

    Remember this well, for your burdens are heavy.

    Remember this well, cataclysm approaches.

    The words echoed within their thoughts, leaving them no room to doubt their gravity. As the message settled, something unfamiliar yet natural unfurled in their consciousness. The knowledge of the [Sinlung Breathing Technique] seeped into their minds, as if it had always been there, waiting to be uncovered:

    Breathing well, breathing heavy,

    Breathing stalled, breathing stopped.

    Guiding your veins throughout your body.

    Breathing all the mana into the body,

    Breathing out mana as you go.

    The Dryad¡¯s voice returned, more insistent:

    Practice now, fellow creatures.

    Our future depends on it.

    I will guide you on the first attempt.

    The group hesitated, their bodies still tense. But as the aura shifted, its hostility receding into an encouraging warmth, they slowly relaxed. They closed their eyes, focusing inward. The Dryad¡¯s tendrils, delicate and adorned with faintly glowing blossoms, extended toward each of them. When the tendrils brushed their temples, a soothing energy flowed into them, correcting their posture and guiding their breath.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The first inhale was shaky, but as they fell into rhythm, the [Sinlung Breathing Technique] revealed its brilliance. Mana surged through their veins, synchronizing with their natural vitality. With every breath, their senses sharpened. The world became more vibrant, the sound of the forest crisper, the mana within them more potent. They completed one hundred breaths, the Dryad¡¯s guidance steady throughout. As they opened their eyes, they noticed the tendrils now bore blossoms¡ªhalf blue, half red.

    You succeeded, huzzah.

    The flowers wouldn¡¯t appear if not.

    The flowers wouldn¡¯t appear if not.

    The Dryad¡¯s telepathic voice conveyed a sense of solemn pride. It continued:

    Practice this every day, as much as you can.

    You are forbidden from teaching it.

    We will pick who gets to learn.

    For now, for now.

    With those final words, the Dryad turned back toward the pond. The group, still in a daze, watched in silence as it retreated into the water. The ripples grew still, and the Dryad vanished, leaving only the glow of the spring behind.

    Larin was the first to break the spell. Bowing deeply, he called out, ¡°Thank you for the blessings!¡± His voice carried an earnest gratitude that shook the others from their trance. They quickly followed suit, bowing and murmuring their thanks.

    As they made their way back to their camp, the group was abuzz with conversation.

    ¡°Meeting a Dryad,¡± Rinku whispered, awe lacing her tone. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s the stuff of legends. Pupi always mentioned them in passing, but I thought they were just stories.¡±

    Ngieri was shivering, her wide eyes reflecting the fading glow of the spring.

    Rinku continued ¡°They¡¯re the Guardians of Sinlung, tasked with preserving the land. It¡¯s said they only appear in times of great need. This can only mean one thing: something terrible is coming.¡±

    ¡°But the [Sinlung Breathing Technique],¡± Gwendon interjected, flexing his fingers as if testing newfound strength. ¡°Even with just one attempt, I feel¡­ different. My mana¡¯s flowing more smoothly, and my body feels lighter. What could it do in the long run?¡±

    Larin, walking slightly ahead, spoke without turning. ¡°If this technique is as powerful as it feels, it could change everything. But why would the Dryad choose us? And why forbid us from teaching it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not for us to question their reasons,¡± Ngieri said softly almost like a cry. ¡°I¡¯m scared, guys, what will the Church say ?!¡±

    The group fell silent, the weight of their encounter settling heavily on their shoulders.They decided to rest a bit before heading back, their minds swirling with thoughts of what lay ahead. Larin broke the silence and said ¡°We have much work to do. Let¡¯s do our best.¡± With determination everyone stood up and departed into the deep undergrowth forest.

    That night, they arrived at Tlangthar just after 2am and went straight to each of their houses. Larin lay awake, staring out of his window. His body hummed with the residual effects of the breathing technique, but his mind churned with questions. The Dryad¡¯s warning echoed in his thoughts: Cataclysm approaches.

    Before dawn, another tremor rocked the earth. It wasn¡¯t as intense as the previous ones, but it was enough to jolt the city awake. The quakes had become more frequent, and the foreboding mystery behind its cause made everyone uneasy, it wasn¡¯t openly discussed, but it was discussed in private or in whispers.

 Chapter 8

    The city of Tlangthar stirred before dawn, a rare and unsettling sight. Streets that normally waited for the first light were now alive with quiet murmurs and hurried movements. The tremors of the previous night had left a palpable tension in the air, a foreboding that clung to the walls and shadows.

    In the Zakop household, the morning carried a similar weight. The smell of Smoked Mana-Tufted Serow stew with rice and spices wafted through the air, a comfort amidst uncertainty. Larin sat across from his parents, Zakop and Moimui, their modest table laden with food but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

    Zakop, ever composed, broke the silence. "The city feels restless," he said, his deep voice tinged with weariness. "Even before the sun, the streets were alive. Fear moves faster than dawn."

    Moimui nodded, her hands clasped tightly around her bowl. "It¡¯s not just the quakes. People sense something deeper, something worse."

    Larin looked between them, his own unease bubbling to the surface. "Is it the quakes? Or something else?"

    Zakop sighed, leaning back slightly. "Both. There is news¡ªnot for public ears yet¡ªbut you should know." He paused, his gaze steady but shadowed. "An envoy from the Kirat Empire is coming to Tlangthar. A delegate, sent during these troubling times."

    Moimui''s spoon clattered against her bowl. "An envoy? Now? What could they want?"

    Zakop¡¯s jaw tightened. "The Kirat Empire has been attacked. Unknown assailants have struck key military outposts with a force beyond anything we¡¯ve seen. They¡¯re calling them attacks from the sky¡ªbeams of light that vaporize everything they touch. Entire bases wiped out, strategic magical sites gone."

    Larin¡¯s heart raced. "And the quakes?"

    Zakop nodded grimly. "Connected, most likely. These strikes cause massive tremors¡ªthe earth groans under their weight. For now, they¡¯ve hit military targets, but Tlangthar¡­" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

    "We could be next," Moimui finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

    "Precisely," Zakop said. "The envoy¡¯s arrival means the Empire is seeking something¡ªallies, perhaps, or answers. But their presence brings its own risks."

    The table fell silent, the weight of Zakop¡¯s words settling over them like a shroud.

    After a moment, Moimui reached across the table, her hand resting on Zakop¡¯s. "We¡¯ll face this together, as we always have."

    Zakop¡¯s expression softened, his usual stoicism giving way to a rare vulnerability. "I hope so. But we must be cautious. This city¡­our people¡­we are not ready for what might come."

    Larin watched his parents, their quiet strength inspiring a flicker of resolve within him. "We¡¯ll do what we must. Whatever comes, we¡¯ll face it."

    Zakop nodded, his eyes meeting his son¡¯s with a hint of pride. "Good. That¡¯s what I need to hear."

    The family shared a quiet moment, the gravity of their conversation balanced by the warmth of their bond. After finishing his meal, Zakop rose, his usual composure returning. "I¡¯m meeting the council. There¡¯s much to discuss."

    Moimui and Larin watched him go, his steps measured but heavy with responsibility.

    <hr>

    After clearing the table, Larin and Moimui began washing the dishes. The rhythmic clinking of bowls and the gentle swish of water filled the silence, a small reprieve from the tension of the morning.

    Moimui glanced at her son, her brow furrowing slightly. "Larin, do you ever wonder about¡­Sinlung? And Khiuniu?"If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Larin paused, his hands stilling in the soapy water. "Of course. They¡¯ve always been part of our stories. But¡­what about them?"

    Moimui¡¯s gaze grew distant, her voice thoughtful. "Sinlung is more than just the planet we live on. It¡¯s alive, a being in its own right. And Khiuniu¡­the one who made everything¡­" She hesitated, her words heavy with meaning. "Some say they¡¯re the same. That Sinlung and Khiuniu are one entity. A creator and a creation, inseparable."

    Larin tilted his head, curiosity sparking. "Is that what you believe?"

    Her lips pressed into a thin line, frustration flickering across her features. "I don¡¯t know. I used to, but so much of our knowledge has been taken from us. The old communing spells, the rituals¡­wiped away by the Kirats."

    Her fists clenched, her voice rising. "Our culture, our identity¡­they¡¯ve been chipped away bit by bit. And while the Dysno wasn¡¯t always the official religion of the Xiaxo, they work hand in hand to push it in our mind. Their presence protected us from outright destruction, but it¡¯s a double-edged sword, it¡¯s debatable. We may have been wearing a skin that was constructed for us."

    Larin reached out, his hand resting gently on hers. "We haven¡¯t lost everything. There are still stories, traditions. People like you who remember."

    Moimui¡¯s expression softened, a small smile breaking through her anger. "You¡¯re right. And as long as we hold onto those, they can¡¯t erase us entirely."

    They finished their task in companionable silence, the weight of their conversation lingering but tempered by a shared determination.

    Meanwhile, Zakop convened with his advisors in the council chamber. The room was simple but sturdy, its walls lined with maps and shelves of scrolls. Chinzah, his trusted warrior, and Pupi, the enigmatic elder, flanked him, their expressions as grave as his own.

    "The envoy arrives tomorrow," Zakop began, his tone brisk. "We need to prepare."

    Chinzah crossed his arms, his brow furrowing. "Do we trust them?"

    "Trust isn¡¯t the issue," Zakop replied. "They¡¯re here for a reason, and we need to find out what it is without compromising ourselves."

    Pupi nodded, his fingers tracing the runes etched into his staff. "The attacks on the Empire¡­they¡¯re unlike anything we¡¯ve seen. If those same forces turn their attention here, we must be ready."

    Zakop¡¯s gaze hardened. "That¡¯s why we need answers. And why we can¡¯t afford to show weakness."

    The three men exchanged a solemn look, the weight of their responsibility heavy on their shoulders.

    <hr>

    Back at home, Larin prepared to leave for the day. His mother stopped him at the door, her hand resting on his shoulder.

    "Be careful," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "These are dangerous times."

    Larin nodded, his resolve firm. "I will."

    As he stepped into the bustling streets of Tlangthar, the city¡¯s unease was palpable. Vendors opened their stalls early, their voices quieter than usual. Guards patrolled in pairs, their eyes scanning the crowd with heightened vigilance. Whispers of the quakes and the mysterious attacks buzzed through the air, a constant undercurrent of fear.

    Larin made his way to the academy, his thoughts racing. The events of the past days¡ªthe Dryad, the breathing technique, his father¡¯s revelations¡ªswirled in his mind, each piece a part of a puzzle he couldn¡¯t yet see.

    At the academy, his friends awaited him. Rinku, Gwendon, and Ngieri greeted him with subdued smiles, their usual banter replaced by a shared unease.

    "You heard about the envoy?" Rinku asked as they walked toward their lecture hall.

    Larin nodded. "My father mentioned it. The Empire¡¯s been attacked. And the quakes¡­they¡¯re not natural."

    Ngieri shivered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think Tlangthar¡¯s next?"

    "I don¡¯t know," Larin admitted. "But we need to be ready."

    Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of their instructor, Sir Ewin. His expression was grave as he addressed the class.

    "Today¡¯s lesson will be brief," he began, his voice steady but somber. "These are uncertain times, and we must focus on what matters most. Strength, knowledge, and unity. You may self-study for the rest of the season, come to me if you need help and I will still be giving lectures every other schoolday."

    He glanced at Larin, a flicker of recognition in his gaze. "Some of you may be called upon to protect this city. Prepare yourselves accordingly."

    The weight of his words settled over the room, the usual hum of chatter replaced by a tense silence. As the lesson progressed, Larin couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that their lives were on the brink of change, the calm before a storm.

    That evening, as the city prepared for the envoy¡¯s arrival, Larin stood at the edge of the river, staring at the water as it reflected the setting sun. The world felt different¡ªfragile, uncertain. But beneath the fear, a quiet determination stirred within him.

 Chapter 9

    The envoy arrived in Tlangthar amidst a display of opulence that clashed with the somber atmosphere of the city. The sky above shimmered as a radiant, flying carriage descended onto the main square, phasing in and out of visibility. Its surface gleamed with metallic etchings, enchanted runes pulsating in intricate patterns. As the carriage landed, the onlookers¡ªalready uneasy from the recent quakes¡ªgathered in silent anticipation.

    The doors of the carriage opened, revealing a tall man draped in jewels and radiating an aura of authority. His pale, flawless skin seemed to glow in the early light, and his long blonde hair, streaked with silver, fell in waves down his back. Bangles, earrings, and rings adorned every inch of him, reflecting the wealth of the Kirat Empire. Behind him stepped ten guards, their armor minimal but enchanted, consisting of chest plates and headpieces under flowing cloaks. Their deliberate movements and the faint magical hum of their weapons left no doubt¡ªthese were magi, elite soldiers of the Empire.

    Zakop stood at the forefront, flanked by his closest advisors. Pupi, the elder mage with piercing eyes and an air of inscrutable wisdom, held his staff loosely, though his stance was alert. Chinzah, the warrior chief, stood to Zakop¡¯s left, his imposing frame and keen gaze a silent warning to any who might underestimate the gathered leaders. On Zakop¡¯s right stood Hwehwe, her fiery temperament barely concealed beneath her composed demeanor, and Mualza, calm and solid as a mountain, his hair tied into a practical bun.

    Zakop stepped forward, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. ¡°Captain Rhabut, we welcome you to Tlangthar. May this visit bring clarity in troubled times.¡±

    Rhabut¡¯s gaze swept over the assembled crowd and the city beyond, his expression one of thinly veiled disdain. He took his time, his eyes flickering with faint magic as he seemed to appraise the very land itself. Finally, he turned his piercing gaze to Zakop and his council.

    ¡°This war of ours is complicated,¡± Rhabut began, his tone condescending, ¡°and I am here to deliver the Empire¡¯s decree. We cannot spare forces for your northeastern region. You will defend yourselves. Your land, however, is of value¡­more than you realize.¡± He paused, his lips curling into a faint smirk. ¡°Once the Empire finishes this war, everything will change. Be prepared.¡±

    The advisors exchanged glances, their composure tested but unbroken. Hwehwe¡¯s eyes narrowed, her fists clenching briefly before she mastered herself. Mualza remained impassive, but his measured breath hinted at the effort it took to maintain his calm.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Zakop¡¯s voice remained measured. ¡°We have always defended our lands with resilience. But we hoped for mutual cooperation in these times. The quakes have disrupted¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Rhabut interrupted, his voice sharp. He took a step forward, his guards closing ranks around him. ¡°What we demand now is tribute. One hundred women¡ªfor the entertainment of my guards and me. We shall have them brought here by nightfall.¡±

    A hush fell over the square. Zakop¡¯s jaw tightened, and his advisors stiffened visibly. Pupi¡¯s hand tightened around his staff, while Hwehwe¡¯s fiery temperament threatened to boil over.

    ¡°This is an outrage,¡± Zakop said, his voice low and taut. ¡°We will not subject our people to such barbarism.¡±

    Rhabut¡¯s smile disappeared. In an instant, his hand shot out, grasping Zakop by the throat. The chief¡¯s advisors moved to intervene, but the magi guards raised their hands, conjuring a shimmering barrier that held them back.

    ¡°You forget your place,¡± Rhabut hissed. ¡°Perhaps your wife, Moimui, should lead this procession. And your advisors¡¯ wives, too¡­Pipu and Lianmoi, was it? Refuse me again, and I¡¯ll execute a dozen of your people here and now.¡±

    Zakop struggled against Rhabut¡¯s grip, his vision narrowing. With great effort, he choked out, ¡°We¡­will comply.¡±

    Rhabut released him with a shove, stepping back as Zakop gasped for air. ¡°Good. Have the tribute prepared by nightfall. I will send for them then. And while you¡¯re at it, I want last year¡¯s taxes and tributes. Yes, even those already paid.¡± With that, Rhabut turned, his guards closing around him as he strode back to his carriage.

    In the privacy of the council chamber, the fury of Zakop and his advisors boiled over.

    ¡°We cannot let this stand,¡± Hwehwe spat, her voice trembling with rage. ¡°This¡­this fiend thinks he can take our people as playthings?"

    Pupi¡¯s voice was calmer but no less resolute. ¡°We must act swiftly. Rhabut¡¯s arrogance is his weakness, but we cannot underestimate the magi guards.¡±

    Mualza¡¯s voice rumbled like distant thunder. ¡°If we are to strike, it must be decisive. An ambush, using the full power of our shamanistic arts. Given time to prepare, our magic can counter their defenses.¡±

    Zakop stood at the head of the table, his composure returned. ¡°Then it is decided. Tonight, we strike. We will not allow Tlangthar to be humiliated¡ªnor our people enslaved.¡±

    The advisors nodded, each already beginning to prepare their role in the plan. They summoned their most trusted shaman-soldiers, working through the day to set up runes and enchantments that would turn Rhabut¡¯s temporary residence into a deadly trap.

 Chapter 10

    As the sun slipped below the Xiaxoan horizon, the stage was set. The atmosphere around Rhabut¡¯s quarters in Tlangthar was dense with unseen power. Layers of shamanistic magic, meticulously prepared over hours, now coiled like a serpent waiting to strike. Glyphs carved into the earth glowed faintly, their restrained energy humming with potential. Shaman-soldiers moved silently, their black garbs glistening faintly under the pale light. The armor they wore was lightweight but rune-etched, allowing both protection and agility. Totems strapped to their backs whispered unintelligible hymns, resonating with the ancient mana of the land.

    Zakop and his advisors stood at the center of their ranks, their breaths synchronized in the deep rhythm of preparation. Pupi held his staff steady, its carvings pulsing faintly as the runes reacted to his touch. Chinzah flexed his fingers, gripping a blade infused with both shamanic enchantments and alchemical precision. Mualza, Hwehwe, and Lianchhia completed the vanguard, their totems placed strategically to encircle the camp. Each bore the weight of their land¡¯s history and its future.

    Inside, Rhabut and his guards remained oblivious to the gathering storm. His men laughed and spoke in low tones, their voices muffled by the reinforced walls of their quarters. Rhabut himself reclined in a chair adorned with runes of the Kirat Empire, sipping wine from an enchanted goblet that kept its contents perpetually chilled. His arrogance hung heavy in the air, his confidence in his magical guard¡¯s superiority absolute.

    <hr>

    Pupi gave the signal with a subtle flick of his staff. The runes around the camp flared to life, their glow now vibrant and searing. Waves of paralyzing energy rippled outward, locking the guards in place before they could even react. Their enchanted weapons hummed impotently as the magic took hold, freezing them in mid-motion. The shamans moved in unison, activating the first wave of their assault.

    Zakop and Chinzah burst through the reinforced doors, their weapons gleaming with deadly intent. Chinzah¡¯s blade, forged from rare minerals imbued with thunder essence, struck first, slicing through the frozen air with a crackling burst. The first guard fell before he could draw breath, his enchanted armor shattering under the strike.

    Rhabut roared in anger, his voice amplified by a spell woven into his golden jewelry. With a wave of his hand, he dispelled the paralyzing energy in a small radius around him. His guards, now freed, charged forward, drawing weapons glowing with Kirat runes.

    The room erupted into chaos. Mualza surged forward, wielding a hammer that resonated with earth magic. He slammed it into the ground, creating a shockwave that destabilized the advancing guards. Lianchhia followed with a flurry of fire spells, her movements precise as she manipulated the flames to dance around her allies, striking only the enemy. The heat singed the air, forcing the guards to retreat momentarily.

    Rhabut summoned a glowing shield, its surface swirling with ethereal energy. ¡°You dare challenge the Empire?¡± he roared, his voice shaking the walls. He thrust his hand forward, releasing a barrage of golden spears made from concentrated mana. Zakop and Chinzah dodged with practiced agility, their armor¡¯s runes absorbing the residual energy.

    ¡°Your arrogance will be your downfall,¡± Zakop replied, his voice calm but resolute. He drew a small vial from his voidpouch and shattered it against his blade. The liquid ignited with a green glow, enhancing the weapon with corrosive properties. His strike against Rhabut¡¯s shield sent cracks spiderwebbing across its surface.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    <hr>

    Pupi remained at the periphery of the battle, his staff carving glowing sigils into the air[weaken][Curse of Sinlung]. ¡°Keep their defenses suppressed!¡± he commanded, casting a debilitating curse that sapped the guards¡¯ strength. Several staggered, their weapons falling from trembling hands.

    Hwehwe and Mualza worked in tandem, their combined spells creating a deadly synergy. Hwehwe unleashed a torrent of wind blades, slicing through the guards¡¯ ranks with surgical precision. Mualza followed with a surge of stone spikes erupting from the ground, pinning the remaining guards in place. The two moved fluidly, their teamwork honed over years of battle.

    Meanwhile, Lianchhia engaged Rhabut directly, her fiery spells clashing against his golden shield. Sparks flew as she hurled an orb of molten lava, forcing Rhabut to divert his energy to block the attack.

    ¡°Your tricks are pathetic,¡± Rhabut sneered, his shield flaring brighter. He reached into his own voidpouch and pulled out a staff encrusted with Kirat jewels. With a flourish, he struck the ground, releasing a wave of energy that sent Lianchhia sprawling.

    Zakop seized the opening. He activated the totem at his side, drawing on its stored mana to enhance his speed. In a blur, he closed the distance to Rhabut, his blade finding purchase against the weakened shield. It shattered with a resounding crack, leaving Rhabut vulnerable.

    <hr>

    The guards, though formidable, were overwhelmed. Chinzah¡¯s thunder-infused blade carved through their ranks, each strike precise and devastating. Hwehwe¡¯s wind magic created a barrier around her allies, deflecting incoming attacks. Mualza¡¯s stone hammer crushed through enchanted armor, leaving no doubt as to the power of Xiaxo¡¯s shamanistic might.

    Rhabut, now exposed, unleashed his full arsenal[Prison eternal][Rule of the Empire]. Golden chains erupted from the ground, ensnaring Zakop and Mualza. ¡°You will all pay for this insolence!¡± he bellowed, summoning a massive orb of mana above his head.

    Pupi¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. ¡°Now!¡±

    The remaining shamans activated their totems simultaneously. A torrent of energy converged on Rhabut, disrupting his spell and forcing him to his knees. Zakop broke free of the chains with a surge of raw strength, his blade slicing through the air.

    ¡°This ends here,¡± Zakop said, his voice steady. He drove his blade into Rhabut¡¯s chest, the enchantments flaring one last time before dimming. Rhabut¡¯s eyes widened in shock before his body fell limp, his jeweled adornments clattering to the ground.

    <hr>

    The battle was over, but at a cost. The room was littered with the bodies of Rhabut¡¯s guards, their lifeless forms a testament to the power of Xiaxo¡¯s shamanistic warriors. Half of Zakop¡¯s forces bore minor injuries, while a quarter required immediate attention for severe wounds. The healers moved quickly, their spells stitching wounds and stabilizing the fallen.

    Zakop and his advisors regrouped, their breaths heavy but their resolve unbroken.

    ¡°We¡¯ve sent a message,¡± Chinzah said, his voice low. ¡°But the Empire will respond. This is far from over.¡±

    Lianchhia, clutching her side where a burn marred her armor, nodded. ¡°They will come for us. But tonight, we have shown them the strength of Xiaxo.¡±

    Pupi¡¯s eyes glimmered with both wisdom and worry. ¡°Prepare for the storm. This is only the beginning.¡±

    Zakop surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the fallen and the injured. ¡°We have defended our dignity,¡± he said finally. ¡°But tomorrow, we must prepare for the consequences of what we have done. Xiaxo will endure."

    <hr>

    As the group dispersed to tend to the wounded and secure the area, the first light of dawn crept over Tlangthar. The battle was won, but the weight of the Empire¡¯s retaliation loomed large. Yet, within the quiet resolve of Zakop and his allies, there burned an unyielding hope¡ªa hope that the land and its people could stand against any storm.

 Chapter 11

    Larin sat alone in the private alchemy room provided by the academy, his workspace illuminated by the faint glow of mana-infused lamps. The air was thick with the scent of charred herbs, simmering liquids, and the faint metallic tang of crushed minerals. On the polished wooden table before him lay an array of components: Glowtail Luminidae scales shimmering like tiny moons, Thunderfin Eel oil bubbling softly in its vial, and the hardened essence of Obsidian Fathomfish, dark and impenetrable. The remnants of their fishing trip had transformed into treasures of experimentation.

    Today, Larin worked to create a new spell¡ª[Precise Mana Manipulation]. It was an ambitious endeavor, intended to refine his ability to control minute flows of mana. Such precision was crucial for advanced alchemy, where even the slightest misstep could lead to volatile reactions.

    His hands moved with practiced grace, weaving intricate patterns in the air. Mana trailed from his fingertips like ethereal threads, intermingling with the components. Each gesture was deliberate, each incantation spoken in a low murmur. The scales of the Glowtail Luminidae dissolved into a fine mist as Larin infused them into a bubbling cauldron. The oil of the Thunderfin Eel followed, its vibrant charge melding with the luminous mist to create a potion that shimmered with a life of its own.

    As Larin focused, his breathing slowed. He unconsciously fell into the rhythm of the [Sinlung Breathing Technique], the practice grounding him and amplifying his connection to the mana around him. The world seemed to fade, leaving only the glow of his work and the pulse of his own magic.

    Suddenly, his vision blurred, and his eyes turned a brilliant white. A surge of energy coursed through him, overwhelming and exhilarating. The room faded into a void of pure light, and within this space, Larin felt himself expanding. Knowledge flooded his mind¡ªnot in words, but in concepts and sensations. The threads of mana became visible to him, each line connecting to another in a vast, intricate web. He understood how elements intertwined, how spells could be crafted with finesse rather than brute force.

    When Larin¡¯s vision cleared, the potion before him had transformed. It radiated a steady, golden light, a testament to his newfound precision. He exhaled slowly, his body trembling from the experience. "So this is what enlightenment feels like," he whispered.

    <hr>

    Across the academy, Ngieri stood in the lush training grove reserved for spiritual and elemental studies. Her focus was the water, a shimmering pool that reflected the two moons of Sinlung. She knelt beside the pool, her hands hovering above its surface.

    ¡°Breathe,¡± she reminded herself, her voice soft and steady. The [Sinlung Breathing Technique] had become second nature, and as she inhaled deeply, the water responded. Tiny ripples formed, moving not outward but inward, converging into intricate patterns.

    Ngieri¡¯s practice revolved around controlling the essence of water¡ªits fluidity, its adaptability, its immense strength when concentrated. With a gesture, she lifted a sphere of water into the air. Her eyes glowed faintly as she froze the sphere mid-flight, then shattered it into thousands of glittering droplets.

    As the droplets rained down, Ngieri smiled. Her connection to the element was deeper now, not merely commanding it but understanding it. The water felt alive, and in its dance, she saw glimpses of the ancient rituals her people once practiced.

    <hr>

    In the academy¡¯s open training grounds, Gwendon¡¯s laughter rang out, a stark contrast to the heavy thuds of his sparring sessions. He stood bare-chested, sweat glistening as he hefted a blade crackling with mana. Around him, glowing runes floated in the air, each one humming with stored power.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Alright, old friend,¡± he said, addressing his enchanted weapon, ¡°let¡¯s see if we can push things further today.¡±

    Gwendon¡¯s magic revolved around imbuing physical strikes with bursts of pure energy. The [Sinlung Breathing Technique] had enhanced his endurance and mana control, allowing him to chain attacks with precision. As he swung the blade, a burst of force erupted on impact, shattering a row of stone targets.

    He grinned, his muscles burning but his spirit invigorated. ¡°Every swing feels sharper,¡± he muttered. ¡°Every strike more controlled. This is what progress feels like.¡±

    <hr>

    In a secluded glade on the academy¡¯s outskirts, Rinku sat cross-legged, surrounded by a circle of flickering flames. His eyes were closed, his breathing measured. The flames did not consume the grass beneath them, nor did they spread. Instead, they danced in place, each flicker responding to Rinku¡¯s thoughts.

    Rinku¡¯s expertise lay in the manipulation of fire, not as a destructive force but as a source of warmth, light, and transformation. As he practiced, the flames grew brighter, their hues shifting from red to blue to white.

    ¡°Balance,¡± he whispered, his voice calm. ¡°Fire is balance.¡± He reached out, his hands cupping a single flame that hovered in front of him. It expanded, transforming into a miniature phoenix that flapped its fiery wings before dissipating into sparks.

    Rinku opened his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face. His connection to the element had deepened, his control refined.

    <hr>

    The four friends convened later that evening in one of the academy¡¯s shared halls. Their expressions were a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, each bearing the signs of their rigorous practice.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Gwendon said, plopping into a chair with a grin. ¡°Who wants to go first? What¡¯s everyone been up to?¡±

    Ngieri chuckled, sitting gracefully across from him. ¡°Water, as always. But today was different. I¡­I felt something. It¡¯s hard to explain, but it¡¯s as if the water spoke to me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like Pupi,¡± Rinku teased, earning a playful glare from Ngieri. ¡°For me, the flames were¡­alive. It¡¯s like they knew what I wanted before I even moved. That connection¡­it¡¯s incredible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been breaking stones all day,¡± Gwendon said with a laugh. ¡°But it feels amazing. Every strike is sharper, more precise. I¡¯m ready to take on anything.¡±

    All eyes turned to Larin, who had remained quiet. He looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. ¡°I think¡­I¡¯ve discovered something new. The [Sinlung Breathing Technique] doesn¡¯t just enhance us physically. It¡¯s changing how we think, how we connect to mana. I¡¯ve developed a spell for precise mana control. It¡¯s still rough, but¡­it¡¯s a start.¡±

    The group nodded, their shared experiences forming a bond that went beyond words. They were growing¡ªnot just individually, but together, as a unit.

    <hr>

    Their moment of camaraderie was interrupted by the hurried arrival of a messenger, his face pale and his breaths labored.

    ¡°Chief Zakop¡­and the council¡­they¡¯ve attacked the Empire¡¯s envoy,¡± the messenger stammered. ¡°Rhabut¡­he¡¯s dead. The guards too.¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of the news settling over them. Larin felt his chest tighten. ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Details are scarce,¡± the messenger admitted. ¡°But it¡¯s said the envoy¡¯s demands were¡­unforgivable. The council acted to protect Tlangthar.¡±

    Ngieri¡¯s hands clenched the edge of the table. ¡°The Empire won¡¯t take this lightly. They¡¯ll retaliate.¡±

    Rinku nodded, his usual lightheartedness replaced with grim resolve. ¡°We need to prepare. If war is coming, we can¡¯t just stand by.¡±

    Larin¡¯s mind raced, the implications of the attack crashing over him like waves. The peace they had known was gone. ¡°We¡¯ll do what we must,¡± he said finally, his voice steady. ¡°For Tlangthar, for Xiaxo. Together.¡±