Morning was different from what Rush was used to.
He had breakfast alone, then went to the deck to train according to his daily schedule. The morning air was crisp and cold. Above him, the sky was a pale blue, streaked with clouds that moved faster than the manaship.
He began with active mana suppression.
He had been practicing this since Rosetta's advice, and the progress was real. Five minutes became six. Six became eight. Now, he could suppress his mana for ten minutes—ten full minutes of controlled output, enough to maintain barriers and constructs without triggering the Khaos Blocker's full absorption.
Then he practiced his frost control.
He extended his palm. A shard of ice formed—sharp, precise. He shaped it into a blade, then dissolved it. He created a barrier of frost around himself, thin but solid. The range had increased fourfold since the trials.
But range wasn't the only thing that had changed.
His frost didn't behave like ordinary elemental magic. It could interfere with mana. It could alter the environment. It could restrict magical formations.
And the more Rush experimented with it, the more applications he discovered.
He still didn't understand what it truly was. But he was beginning to.
His control was sharper, more instinctive. He no longer needed to focus on every detail.
The dome against Richard's flames had been the first sign. Now he was learning to use it deliberately.
A sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Rush glanced over his shoulder.
Jennifer stepped onto the deck.
He was still experimenting when she arrived.
She was carrying her sword.
"You're already training?"
Rush nodded.
"Every morning."
Jennifer smiled faintly.
"Then I suppose I should do the same."
She moved toward an open section of the deck and began practicing her swordsmanship.
Rush returned to his frost control.
They trained in silence for a while. It was comfortable.
Then something changed.
The air thickened. The ambient mana in the atmosphere increased—a subtle shift, but unmistakable. Rush felt it in his chest, in his core. The Khaos Blocker hummed against his wrist, adjusting to the increased pressure.
They had entered the Elven borders.
Beelzebub surfaced, his voice thoughtful.
"Interesting. The mana density here is significantly higher than in Atherland. If you had been born here, child, your potential as a mage would have been extraordinary."
Rush looked around.
"Because of the mana?"
"Among other things. The ambient mana here is vastly denser than what you are accustomed to in Atherland."
Rush understood.
His mana capacity was already tremendous.
But elves had grown up surrounded by an environment that constantly fed their connection to magic.
No wonder their civilization had developed such a sophisticated relationship with magic.
Rush walked toward the railing. Then he looked down.
His eyes widened slightly.
The landscape below was breathtaking.
Forests spread endlessly, their canopies a deep, ancient green. Rivers wound through them like veins of silver. The land rolled in gentle waves, rising into hills that caught the morning light. It was beautiful — more beautiful than any book had described.
And different.
The books had painted the Elven kingdom as a place of trees and wild magic. But what Rush saw was more nuanced. Eventually villages began appearing below, their buildings integrated with the landscape — roofs made of living wood, walls covered in climbing ivy. Then cities emerged, larger and more complex.
They weren't the treehouses of legend. They were proper cities — huge buildings, spires, domes, and houses. They resembled human cities. But unlike human cities, they were integrated with nature. Trees grew alongside structures. Rivers flowed through sections of the cities. The architecture was elegant, flowing, harmonious.
"It's beautiful," Jennifer said, stepping beside him.
Rush nodded.
"Different from what I expected."
"The books don't do it justice."
"They rarely do."
They stood in silence for a while, watching the cities pass below.
***
The ship would take another six hours to reach Elcaster.
Rush returned inside. The atmosphere on the ship had changed— not in a bad way, but in a way that was hard to define. Something in Richard had shifted.
When Rush passed him in the corridor, Richard's gaze was different. The usual hostility was gone. He didn't glare. He didn't sneer. He simply looked at Rush, his expression unreadable, and then looked away.
He hadn't fully accepted what Rush had told him. But something had broken. The hatred was still there, but it had been complicated by doubt, by grief, by the slow, crushing weight of truth.
Beelzebub's voice surfaced.
"The Dragonean is processing, child. It will take time."
I know, Rush thought. I'm not expecting anything.
He continued walking.
***
Several hours later, all the students gathered in the common hall.
The atmosphere was considerably lighter now — a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Slavic had apparently decided that sitting quietly was impossible.
He gathered a small amount of mana between his fingers, his face lit with concentration.
"Watch this," he said.
A small bird formed from pale blue mana. It flew across the room and landed on Ethan's shoulder. Ethan didn't react. He simply looked at it, then at Slavic.
"Impressive," he said dryly.
"Just impressive?"
"I'm being generous."
Amber laughed. She reached out and formed her own construct—a small replica of the manaship, hovering above her palm.
"Now that's impressive," she said.
Then Kurt joined them. His construct was a small figure — himself, complete with a tiny sword. He moved it across the table, mimicking a sparring stance.
"Come on," he said. "Let's make it bigger."
Together, they expanded the constructs. The manaship grew larger, filling the center of the room. Constructs of themselves appeared — Slavic, Amber, Kurt, each moving in miniature.
What began as a small mana construct quickly became something much larger.
Jennifer eventually joined them. She looked at their work for several seconds.
"That's terrible."
Slavic looked offended.
"Excuse me?"
Jennifer raised her hand.
Ice gathered around her fingers. A moment later, an intricate miniature Academy appeared on the table — its towers, its training grounds, the familiar paths.
Everyone stared.
Slavic's mouth fell open.
"Okay."
He pointed at her.
"That's cheating."
Jennifer smiled.
Then she created another construct. She created ice constructs of everyone in the room — Rush, Richard, the Aetos twins, even Rosetta. The figures moved, mimicking their habits. Rush's construct stood still, watching.
Rush stared at it.
"Why do I look so serious?"
"Because you always look serious."
"I don't."
Nia glanced at the construct.
"You do."
Rush looked at her. Nia's expression remained completely serious.
Then Amber laughed. The room erupted into conversation.
For a while, there was no Crucible. No rivalries. No fractured cores. No demons. Just students enjoying the journey.
***
Eventually, the mana ship began to slow.
Rush felt the change immediately. The hum beneath his feet lowered.
The vessel began descending.
He moved toward the nearest window.
Something enormous appeared beneath the clouds. A city was visible below — enormous, sprawling, breathtaking. Huge towering buildings, podiums, arenas, massive structures. A shimmering barrier surrounded the entire metropolis.
And beyond the city stood something even larger.
A castle.
Its towers rose above everything else.
Rush had seen Prasta. Elcaster was larger.
Much larger.
Rush stood and walked to the deck.
Rosetta was already standing at the railing, looking down. Rush moved beside her.
"This is Elcaster," she said. "The capital of the Elven kingdom."
Rush looked down again. He couldn't help but smile.
"So this is where the Hexan Crucible will be held."
"Yes."
As they descended further, other manaships came into view. They bore different crests — the emblems of other Academies. Some were already parked on the landing platforms below. Two more ships were descending alongside Atherland's.
The Hexan Crucible wasn't merely bringing together students from one academy.
It was bringing together the best young talents from across the world.
Rosetta turned to face the students.
"Everyone, get your belongings."
The conversations stopped.
"We'll be landing in five minutes."
The students scattered.
Rush remained at the railing a moment longer. Below, Elcaster spread like a living tapestry—ancient and modern, natural and constructed.
He touched the silver lines on his wrist.
Elcaster, he thought. The place with the cure. The Heart.