Days turned into weeks in Eldridge Village, and Elarion found himself immersed in the rhythms of Elysara's life. The village, though small, buzzed with activity: blacksmiths forging enchanted weapons, herbalists brewing potions infused with nature magic, and young aspirants training in basic knightly forms. Garrick took it upon himself to mentor Elarion in the ways of the knights, insisting that even a mage-like figure could benefit from martial discipline.
"Magic's fine, but a blade in hand grounds you," Garrick said during their first sparring session in the village square. He demonstrated a Third Rank technique: Aura Burst, where his sword glowed with inner energy, slicing through a training dummy with explosive force.
Elarion, adapting the Key as a makeshift staff, parried with a barrier of compressed air— a Tier 3 elemental shield. The clash sent sparks flying, drawing a crowd. "Impressive," Garrick grunted, wiping sweat. "But ranks build resilience. Start at First Rank drills: footwork, endurance."
Liora, meanwhile, introduced him to elemental theory in the village's modest library—a cozy room filled with dusty tomes on mana cycles. "Elements aren't just tools; they're alive," she explained, summoning a gentle breeze that flipped pages. "Wind for mobility, fire for destruction, earth for defense. Integrate them wrong, and backlash hits hard."
Elarion experimented, blending his scrambled system with local magic. Using the Scepter, he created a hybrid spell: a whirlwind laced with lightning, Tier 4 potency. It uprooted a small tree, earning wary looks from villagers. [System Update: Adaptation 20%. New Ability Unlocked: Hybrid Fusion (Tier 4).]
Thorne taught nature's subtleties in the surrounding woods. "Feel the pulse of life," he said, placing Elarion's hand on a ancient oak. Vines responded to Thorne's call, forming natural armor. "Beast tamers bond with creatures; shapeshifters become them. Second Rank like me can heal wounds with herbal essence."
Elarion tried shapeshifting, his form flickering into a wolf briefly before the system glitched, reverting him painfully. "It's... different here. My power resists categorization."
News from the Azure Order arrived via messenger bird—a scroll sealed with blue wax. Garrick read it aloud: "Drakon's forces march on the Border Marches. God Rank Pretender, Emperor Valthor, claims divine right. Envoys needed at Valtoria's capital."
The group prepared to depart, Elarion included. "You're unranked, but your feats speak," Liora said. "The Order might test you."
The journey took three days on horseback, through lush valleys and over babbling rivers. They encountered a band of First Rank knights patrolling, who joined their escort after hearing of Elarion's arrival. "Sky-fallen? Like the legends of Star Knights," one murmured.
Valtoria's capital, Azure Spire, loomed majestic: towering walls of blue-veined marble, spires piercing clouds, banners fluttering with knightly emblems. The city teemed with life—markets selling elemental crystals, temples to the Gods echoing with faith chants, groves where druids meditated.
At the Order's hall, a grand structure of stone and magic, they met Grandmaster Elowen, a Ninth Rank knight with God Rank rumors. Her aura was a calm ocean, deep and unyielding. "Welcome, stranger from beyond. Our seers sensed your rift. Show us your power."
In the training arena, Elarion demonstrated: Key opening a small pocket realm for storage, Scepter unleashing a cascade of mixed elements—fire vines, icy winds. Gasps echoed. "Unclassified, but equivalent to Sixth Rank mage," Elowen declared. "Join us. Train to formal ranks, aid against Drakon."
Elarion accepted tentatively. Training began: mornings with knights, afternoons with mages. He ascended quickly, his system accelerating learning. By week's end, he achieved provisional Third Rank knight status, aura manifesting as dimensional flickers.
But shadows loomed. Spies reported Valthor's faith mages summoning God-touched golems. A skirmish at the borders claimed lives. Elarion volunteered for a reconnaissance mission, blending into shadows with nature magic.
In the enemy camp, he overheard plans: "The ley lines will fuel the Emperor's ascension to true God Rank."
Sneaking back, he warned the Order. War brewed, and Elarion's reprieve felt fragile.