The voice drifted like a phantom whisper, vanishing almost as soon as it came, leaving Glenn to wonder if it had merely been a trick of the mind. He turned toward Daov, who gave him a faint nod in return. So… this “Gabay” fellow doesn’t seem particularly well-liked here, Glenn mused, turning back.

  As the crowd stepped aside, a wide open space quickly formed, with tables and chairs cleared away. Only Glenn and Gabay now stood within that ring of emptiness. Daov approached the Black Raven couple, raised a hand, and murmured a spell. A faint, shimmering barrier enclosed the dueling ground.

  Spectators began to shout encouragement; Tia was among them, cupping her hands around her mouth, her face flushed red with excitement, unwilling to be outdone by anyone. Glenn stretched lazily, calm and unhurried.

  Gabay, on the other hand, lashed his long tail and his body swelled in size, towering like a vehicle. “Now’s your last chance to beg for mercy,” he rumbled from above. “Do that, and I might spare your dignity—and that of Black Raven and Lady Regila.”

  Glenn offered no reply. His leg muscles tensed, bulging as he stepped forward with blinding speed— His right arm instantly transformed, swelling monstrously, grotesquely large compared to the rest of his body.

  Gabay hadn’t expected such a direct assault, nor this kind of speed. Still, he wasn’t alarmed. With that kind of brute strength, the man couldn’t possibly pierce his scales—

  Boom!

  The thought barely formed before a searing pain ripped through Gabay’s abdomen, spreading through every nerve like wildfire. His vision swam—his stomach felt as though it had been crushed flat against his spine.

  Crash!

  The white-scaled draconian slammed into the shimmering barrier with bone-shaking force, nearly distorting it. How… could he… be this strong… The thought flickered through his mind just before darkness claimed him.

  Instant kill.

  Those who had expected a fierce, drawn-out clash were left gaping—shock mingling with awe at Glenn’s sheer might. Black Raven exchanged a glance with his wife, who murmured something; he nodded slightly, expression unreadable.

  “What terrifying strength,” Daov muttered, frowning in thought. “He used only a partial transformation—just his arm—and still struck with such power. That’s far beyond a normal werewolf’s ability.”

  It was, of course, also Gabay’s overconfidence that doomed him. Had he taken Glenn seriously from the start, things might have been different. With his draconic magic, he could have cast multiple defensive spells—enough to at least survive that first blow. But there were no ifs in battle.

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  As the barrier dissolved, several onlookers carried Gabay aside for healing, while others surrounded Glenn, offering praise and astonishment. The little maid squeezed through the crowd and clung tightly to his arm, as though afraid someone might snatch him away.

  A few curious guests inquired about the source of his strength, but Glenn only smiled and said it was his own secret. No one pressed further—the answer was fair enough.

  As the banquet wound down, the guests began to take their leave, bidding farewell to the Black Raven couple. When only a few stragglers remained, Regila beckoned to Glenn, who was chatting with the young tree spirit. “Mr. Glenn,” she said softly, “come here for a moment.”

  Glenn broke off his conversation and approached, puzzled. “Mrs. Regila, is something the matter?” Tia and the remaining guests gathered as well, curious.

  Regila turned to Daov. “Test Mr. Glenn’s affinity with the element of Light.” “With pleasure, my lady,” Daov replied.

  Is she… going to teach me magic? Glenn thought, excitement stirring within him.

  “Don’t worry,” Daov said kindly. “It won’t hurt.” “I’m not worried,” Glenn chuckled. “Just… looking forward to it. I’ve wanted to try magic for a long time.” “I felt the same, the first time I touched the arcane,” Daov said with a wistful smile. He raised a glowing fingertip and pressed it to Glenn’s chest.

  Glenn felt nothing unusual, but Daov’s brows lifted in surprise. “His Light affinity is… nearly ninety percent. The precise value requires instruments, but it won’t differ much.”

  A murmur of astonishment swept through the onlookers. “Ninety percent? That’s on par with top apprentices from the great Magic Spires,” Daov’s wife remarked. “Indeed,” Daov nodded. “Any Spire would offer him a generous invitation.”

  Light element did not mean light alone—it encompassed fire, lightning, wind, water, and all positive forces of nature. The body Glenn now inhabited knew this much, though he found such classifications crude—no better than the ancient Chinese notion of five primal elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. They had yet to grasp the true essence of matter.

  Still, this was a world of magic; perhaps their system held some truth. Until proven otherwise, Glenn reserved judgment.

  As he pondered, Daov frowned slightly. Regila’s insistence puzzled him. Glenn’s talent was remarkable, yes—but not that remarkable. Why test him personally? Did I overlook something? he wondered.

  Then Regila spoke again, her voice calm but commanding: “Daov, test his affinity with the element of Darkness as well.”

  The room fell silent. Daov stared at her, aghast—as if to ask, Are you serious? Darkness? Glenn thought in disbelief. Could I… wield dark magic too?

  “Regila, surely you don’t mean—” began Daov’s wife, Mayka, hesitantly. Regila said nothing, her gaze firm.

  Daov sighed with a bitter smile, feeling as though his scholarly pride were being tested. Nonetheless, he raised his hand again. This time, dark smoke curled around his fingertips as he touched Glenn’s chest.

  A minute passed. Nothing happened—except Daov’s trembling hand. A strange, impossible thought began to dawn on everyone present.

  “Daov, my dear, are you all right?” Mayka asked in alarm. His shaking hand withdrew; his knees nearly gave out before someone caught him.

  “What did you find?” someone demanded.

  Daov’s eyes were wide, his voice hollow. “Dark affinity… also around ninety percent…”

  A collective gasp swept the room. By all known logic, a person strong in Light should be weak in Darkness—yet Glenn defied every principle of magic.

  As the weight of realization sank in, Daov’s body continued to tremble, his once-calm expression now a portrait of chaos. The seasoned mage—who had faced countless mysteries—looked utterly shattered. His wife was no better; she stood frozen, mind echoing her husband’s words:

  Ninety percent affinity… for Darkness as well.