The mountain range of Mount Othrys was not a place for the living. It was a jagged scar on the face of the Kingdom of Aethelgard, a place where the mana density was so thick it twisted the trees into iron and turned the wind into razor blades.
Monsters that would require a platoon of knights to kill roamed here like stray dogs.
Yet, in a clearing near the peak, a fifteen-year-old boy was currently wrestling a Greater Wyvern with his bare hands.
"Hah!"
Kael Vaeloris slammed his heel into the dirt, cracking the bedrock beneath him. He grabbed the Wyvern—a beast the size of a carriage—by its horned snout and heaved. With a roar that shook the pine needles off the trees, he flipped the creature over his shoulder.
BOOM.
The Wyvern crashed into the earth, eyes spinning. It whined like a kicked puppy and scrambled back, wings tucking in submission.
Kael wiped sweat from his forehead, his messy golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. He grinned, patting the terrifying beast on the nose. "Good match, Scales. You're getting faster."
The Wyvern huffed, smoke curling from its nostrils, and nudged him affectionately.
"Kael, you're using too much shoulder," a calm voice drifted from the edge of the clearing. "If that had been an Earth Drake, you would have dislocated your arm."
Kael turned, his grin widening. "Elian!"
Sitting on a mossy rock under the shade of a twisted oak tree was a boy who looked nothing like the muscular, sun-drenched teenager standing over the dragon.
Elian Vaeloris was twelve years old, small for his age, with hair the color of midnight. A strip of white cloth was wrapped securely around his eyes, stark against his pale skin. He held a cup of steaming tea in one hand and a polished wooden cane in the other.
He looked fragile. Like a gust of wind could blow him off the mountain.
Kael walked over, the ground trembling slightly with his steps. "Did you see that throw? I timed the mana burst perfectly!"
Elian took a sip of tea, tilting his head. To anyone else, he was staring at darkness. But Elian didn't see darkness.
He saw the world in high-definition lines of energy.
He saw the red flare of Kael's massive mana core, burning like a localized sun. He saw the blue residual heat fading from the Wyvern's muscles. He saw the white turbulence of the air where Kael's punch had broken the sound barrier.
Elian's "sight" wasn't limited to light. It was physics, magic, and intent, processed by a mind that remembered two previous lives—one of a martial arts master, another of a scientist.
"I saw the mana burst," Elian corrected gently, his voice smooth and mature beyond his years. "But your center of gravity was off by four centimeters. A Tier 6 Warrior would have swept your leg."
Kael laughed, grabbing a water skin. "That's why I have you, right? To tell me the boring stuff."
"Physics isn't boring, brother. It's the difference between breaking a rock and breaking your hand." Elian set the tea down. He tapped his cane against the stone once.
Tap.
A ripple of mana, invisible to the naked eye but clear as day to Elian, pulsed outward from the cane. It swept through the forest like sonar.
"Grandfather is coming," Elian said. "And... we have a guest."
Kael blinked. "A guest? Nobody comes up here except the supply drops."
"This one is different," Elian's head turned slightly toward the winding path miles down the mountain. "His mana signature feels... related to us. Similar to Grandfather's, but weaker. Diluted."
"A relative?" Kael perked up. "We have those?"
"Apparently." Elian stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his robes. "And he is anxious. His heart rate is one hundred and twenty beats per minute, and he is sweating profusely."
"Maybe he's just tired from the climb," Kael suggested.
"No," Elian's lips curved into a small, unreadable smile. "He's scared."
The Sage's Cabin
The "cabin" was a humble word for the sprawling wooden estate that defied gravity, hanging off the side of the cliff.
Altus Vaeloris, the Great Sage, sat on the veranda. He looked like a man in his sixties—fit, with a neatly trimmed gray beard and eyes that held the weight of a collapsed star. He was currently peeling a potato with a knife made of condensed wind magic.
"Grandfather!" Kael's voice boomed as he ran up the steps. "Elian says we have a guest!"
Altus didn't look up. "Your brother usually knows what he's talking about."
Elian walked up the stairs behind Kael, his cane making a rhythmic tap-tap-tap. He stopped exactly three steps away from the old man.
"It's Uncle Darius, isn't it?" Elian asked softly.
Altus paused his peeling. The wind knife vanished. He looked at his youngest grandson. "You recognized his mana signature? You've never met him."
"I deduced it," Elian said, leaning on his cane. "His mana flow shares a genetic resonance with yours, specifically the Vaeloris affinity for spatial magic. But his core is unstable. He has an old injury near his third lumbar vertebra."
Altus chuckled, shaking his head.
"Sometimes, Elian, you are terrifying. Yes. It is my son, your Uncle Darius. He is the Head of the Vaeloris Branch Family in the capital."
"Why is he here?" Kael asked, bouncing on his heels.
"To take you away," Altus said simply.
The silence that followed was heavy. The wind stopped howling. Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.
"Take us... where?" Kael asked, his voice losing its bounce.
"To the Royal Academy of Aethelgard," Altus stood up, tossing the potato into a bucket. He wiped his hands on an apron. "You are fifteen, Kael. By Kingdom law, you are an adult. Darius believes that keeping you two hidden here is a crime against your potential."
"I don't need an Academy," Kael frowned. "I have you. You're the strongest mage in history."
"I am a relic," Altus snorted. "I can teach you how to destroy a mountain, Kael. But I cannot teach you how to talk to a girl, how to navigate a court summons, or how to realize when a friend is holding a dagger behind his back."
Altus turned his gaze to Elian. "And you, little shadow. What do you think?"
Elian stood perfectly still. His blindfold faced the valley below. Through his senses, he could feel the Uncle approaching the barrier. He could feel the shifting tides of the world beyond.
In his first life, as a Sword Saint, he had died because he was too arrogant to understand politics.
In his second life, as a scientist, he had died because he trusted the wrong government with his research.
In this life... he intended to control everything.
"The Academy," Elian said, his voice light and cheerful. "It sounds fun. They have a library, right?"
Kael looked at his brother, surprised. "You want to go?"
"Knowledge is power, brother," Elian turned his face to Kael. "And besides... if we stay here, you'll eventually run out of Wyverns to wrestle. Don't you want to see if humans can survive a punch from you?"
Kael grinned, the excitement returning. "Well... when you put it that way."
Elian smiled. It was a harmless, innocent smile that reached his covered eyes.
Going to the capital is necessary, Elian thought, his internal monologue cold and calculating, a sharp contrast to his warm exterior. The 'False Peace' is degrading. I sense the mana currents shifting in the North. The demons are not gone; they are waiting. If I am to protect this idiot brother of mine, I need to secure the political high ground before the war starts.
The sound of footsteps echoed on the stone path. A man in expensive, travel-worn silk robes appeared, gasping for breath.
"Father!" the man cried out, falling to his knees before Altus. "And... the children."
Darius Vaeloris looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the two boys.
He saw Kael, a golden god of raw power who felt like a walking furnace.
And he saw Elian, a frail blind boy with a stick.
One monster and one cripple, Darius thought with pity. Well, at least the elder one can restore our family's glory.
Elian tilted his head. He heard Darius's heartbeat. He sensed the spike of pity in the man's emotional aura.
Interesting, Elian thought, his grip tightening imperceptibly on his cane. He thinks I am baggage. Perfect. Being underestimated is the greatest weapon.
"Welcome, Uncle," Elian said sweetly. "Would you like some tea?"
End of Chapter 1