The moon still hung low in the sky when Cassian stepped barefoot onto the stone floor of his training yard. His breath misted in the early chill. Above, the stars were fading—but within him, his resolve blazed hotter than ever.
He sat cross-legged, eyes closed. Before him, the golden tome Heart of the Infinite Flame floated silently, its pages fluttering like wings in a breathless wind.
The Second Circle.
The next step on a path few had ever walked—and fewer survived.
> "To form the Second Circle, still your heart," the book whispered. "The flame that rages must learn to listen."
Cassian inhaled deeply, letting the rhythm of mana pulse through him.
Moments passed. Then minutes. Then hours.
Mana gathered in his chest, drawn toward the center of his soul. He shaped it, willed it to become. But each time—just before the ring could form—it scattered like mist.
> "No… No. Why?!"
His eyes snapped open. Sweat clung to him like rain. His hands shook.
He slammed his fist into the stone floor.
> "I followed every step. Why won't it work?!"
The book offered no answer.
Cassian stood slowly as the horizon glowed pale blue. Dawn was coming.
And still, no Second Circle.
---
After a cold shower and a change of clothes, Cassian stumbled into the corridor, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
He almost missed her waiting by the cafeteria wall.
"Cassian?"
Felicia's golden hair shimmered in the morning sun. She tucked a strand behind her ear, her green eyes scanning his face.
"You look like you fought a dragon in your sleep," she said with a teasing smile.
Cassian gave a tired grunt. "Just… couldn't stop thinking."
She walked beside him in silence.
---
In the cafeteria, they shared warm bread, roasted root vegetables, and elven tea.
Felicia watched him between sips. "You're not pushing too hard, are you?"
Cassian didn't answer at first.
> "Hard enough to make it count," he murmured.
Her eyes lingered on him a little longer.
---
In Class S, Professor Merrow stood tall before a blackboard alive with floating glyphs.
"Mana is obedient," he lectured. "But only to a soul in harmony. If your spirit is conflicted, mana will recoil. Magic is not just technique—it is self."
Cassian sat upright. The words hit like a blade to the chest.
It's not me… it's the environment.
The training yard was polluted—with spent spells, echoed energies, lingering enchantments. It wasn't pure. It wasn't enough.
> "If I want to ascend… I need untouched mana."
His decision was made.
---
That evening, as twilight wrapped the Academy in violet mist, Cassian stood alone in his dorm room. A silver scroll lay before him.
He activated it.
A flash of light—and a mirror image of himself emerged.
Clone Technique: Mirror Body
Duration: 24 Hours
Cassian handed the clone a folded note.
> "Eat with Felicia. Attend class. Don't say anything dumb. Smile sometimes."
The clone nodded stoically.
Cassian smirked. "Good. You're me, after all."
He opened the window, climbed out, and vanished into the night.
---
The Whispering Forest stirred beneath a canopy of stars. Wind danced through ancient branches. Magic beasts slumbered deep in their dens.
Cassian moved like shadow—silent, focused.
He found a clearing untouched by human footsteps. No spells lingered here. The air was thick with pure, primal mana. It buzzed against his skin like static.
He sat. The golden book opened once more.
The world fell away.
This time, the mana flowed easily.
It didn't resist—it listened.
He guided it deeper. Harmonized it. Breathed with it.
The rhythm built.
And then…
A golden ring spun to life inside his chest—wider, clearer, stronger.
The Second Circle was born.
> "I… I did it."
He opened his eyes, heart pounding.
Then his stomach dropped.
He checked the timepiece bound to his wrist.
Clone Duration Remaining: 0:57:16
> "What?! A whole day passed?!"
He leapt to his feet, golden energy flaring around him.
> "The tournament—!"
Cassian turned, golden sword slung across his back, and vanished into the trees like a streak of lightning.
---
Meanwhile, at the Academy…
The grand arena pulsed with energy. Arcane shields protected thousands of spectators. Banners fluttered in the breeze—bearing the crest of the Royal Family and the Academy alike.
Felicia sat near the front, her gaze fixed on the preparation area.
Cassian stood there.
Or rather—someone who looked exactly like him.
He didn't fidget. Didn't stretch. Didn't even blink much.
Felicia frowned.
> "He's too still… too calm."
Her hand curled tightly around the hem of her sleeve.
> "That's not him…"
A whisper of unease swept through her heart.
And in the distance, through trees and rising dawn—
The real Cassian ran like fire across the wind.
> "Hold on... I'm coming."