A few days slipped by in the blink of an eye, yet Noah remained locked inside the same cell. Other than the pale crescent moon filtering through the barred window, there was no real source of light in the holding area.
Still, the faint silver glow was just enough to outline the faces of the other prisoners, turning them into hollow silhouettes that watched and waited in silence.
Noah was neither well versed in the Empire's labyrinthine legal system nor particularly scholarly like a mage. Even so, he knew one crucial detail: without formal charges or a confession, no one could be held in custody for longer than two weeks.
It was one of the few protections even commoners clung to, a thin line between authority and tyranny.
Though the confinement offered an unexpected chance to recover from the mental strain of the past weeks, Noah found himself unable to remain idle. Rest felt like surrender, and surrender felt dangerously close to becoming the powerless person he feared he already was.
'Another team just left…'
From the moment he was thrown into the cell, Noah had begun extending his senses outward, inch by inch, forcing his awareness to spread beyond the confines of his body.
His last attempt at using Perception inside the Imperial Palace had nearly broken him, leaving behind scars that lingered far longer than the physical pain.
Compared to that nightmare, a Bureau office overseen by a Master who was rarely present felt almost safe. Safe enough to confront the fear he had been avoiding.
Perception, in its simplest form, meant driving all five senses beyond their natural limits until they blurred together into a single, overwhelming awareness. Sight bled into sound. Touch merged with instinct. Even the faintest vibration carried meaning.
It was one reason mages were rarely deployed on the front lines. Knights tempered their bodies and senses through Regulation, forging themselves into living weapons. Mages, however, pursued Refinement, honing the mind and Aetheric core instead.
Their power was immense, but their bodies remained vulnerable to sudden violence.
'Two… no, three officers on the first floor.'
Both knights and mages walked the same path toward Ascension, divided into three major thresholds. Noah stood at the very bottom as a Novice Adept, a level where survival often depended more on caution than strength.
For someone at his stage, even detecting the number of people within range was considered impressive.
And yet, it felt painfully insufficient.
Since leaving the academy, an ugly sense of urgency had taken root inside him. Back then, he had been content to grow at an ordinary pace, to blend into the ranks and carve out a quiet future. Becoming a Veteran Adept someday and serving in some distant county had sounded perfectly acceptable.
Now that future felt laughably small.
Ever since meeting Leon, that quiet ambition had twisted into something harsher. Powerlessness no longer felt like a distant inconvenience. It felt like drowning. Every encounter with Leon reminded him of the gulf between what he was and what he needed to become.
And the worst part was that Leon never even had to try.
No matter what he did, he remained insignificant in Leon's presence.
So he chose the only path left to him.
He would struggle until he was no longer insignificant.
He practiced relentlessly, allowing himself only brief pauses when exhaustion threatened to dull his senses. At first, the effort yielded almost nothing.
The noise of the prison overwhelmed him. Shouts, curses, chains dragging against stone, distant sobbing. It all merged into a chaotic storm that threatened to swallow his awareness whole.
But gradually, the storm began to separate into distinct threads.
Ordinarily, Perception made no distinction between living beings. A horse and a common laborer felt the same to an untrained mind. Only Veteran Adepts developed the clarity to tell them apart instantly.
Noah lacked that refinement.
So he improvised.
He memorized the rhythm of breathing, the scrape of boots, the subtle shift of weight when someone leaned against a wall. Posture, stance, hesitation, intent. He recorded every detail like a desperate scholar afraid of forgetting.
Even if it took days to map the people around him, the progress was undeniable.
It was a milestone few Novices could even attempt.
'... All of them are gone?'
After practicing Perception since the afternoon, Noah finally relaxed and opened his eyes. He felt drained and exhausted, but it was different from the fatigue of physical training. This was deeper, like his mind itself had been stretched too far.
'Ugh… I overdid it.'
A sharp throbbing pain spread through his head, pulsing with every heartbeat. It felt like his skull might split open if he pushed himself any further.
His entire body was soaked in sweat. His throat burned with thirst. By focusing only on his senses for so long, he had lost track of both time and his own body.
With a tired sigh, he leaned back against the cold wall, letting the stone support his weight.
'This is it… I've finally hit a wall.'
The only way forward now was to reach Veteran Adept. And that was not something he could achieve overnight, no matter how hard he tried.
Becoming a Veteran Adept was not just about strength or skill. It was a kind of inner growth. Some reached it after years of struggle. Others crossed the threshold in a fraction of that time.
There was no clear rule. No guaranteed path.
Unlike Novices who struggled just to circulate Aether in battle, Veterans could do it as naturally as breathing. Their control was smoother, faster, and far more efficient. With it came strength that bordered on the inhuman, sustained for far longer than a normal body could handle.
That was why knights were trained with many weapons instead of mastering only one. Long before they were allowed to touch Aether, they learned how to fight with whatever they could hold.
It was also why the Empire's only academy accepted so few students. Even at its peak, the number barely reached a few hundred.
'Not that it's very old. As far as I know, the academy has only been there for a little over a decade.'
As a Novice Adept, Noah had already pushed his body close to its natural limits. Aether was what allowed him to go beyond them.
That was where Disciplines came in.
A Discipline was something a person was born with, a natural trait that shaped how they used Aether. Training methods were built around it, allowing each person to draw out its potential in different ways.
A better cultivation method meant better results. Unfortunately, Noah only had access to the most basic technique, the kind given to students without powerful families behind them.
Noah's Discipline was Bladeflow.
It focused on speed and precision, allowing him to alter the path of his attacks in an instant. With enough mastery, it could also let him close distances in a flash or maintain stamina far beyond normal limits.
The potential was enormous.
'Endless potential…'
He gave a faint, humorless smile.
'That just means an endless climb.'
If he wanted to break through, he would have to understand that potential instead of just chasing it blindly.
Shaking his head, Noah looked toward the small window. The pale moon hung silently in the sky, distant and unreachable.
His expression softened.
'I wonder what Father would have done in my place.'
It had been a long time since he last went home. The thought should have brought comfort.
But somehow, he couldn't remember anything about his home.