The Abyssal Valley of Fallen Demons. A faint shimmer of light streaked across the horizon.

  Upon the ridged mountains stood a grand mansion, ablaze with resplendent hues and glimmering lights. As that faint radiance descended upon its balcony, two figures emerged—Dao’ov and his wife, Meika.

  From within came the clamor of youthful voices. “Teacher has returned!” “Hurry, let’s go greet him!” “Stop wasting time—our teacher’s back!”

  Moments later, a group of young men and women, ranging from ten to thirty years of age, gathered at the balcony. Reverence and elation shone upon their faces as they bowed deeply to Dao’ov.

  With a kind smile, Dao’ov raised a gentle hand, quieting them. “I attended an old friend’s birthday—a visit I could not refuse. Did anyone from the main city come looking for me while I was away?”

  A slightly older apprentice stepped forward. “Master, not even half a day after your departure, a third-tier mage arrived, saying the city’s affairs could not be delayed and that you must return at once.”

  Dao’ov’s smile did not waver. “So dutiful, as always. But I now have matters far more pressing than theirs.”

  He exchanged a glance with Meika, who nodded and raised her hand. A tender sprout emerged from the wooden floor, swiftly unfurling into a small tree. Its branches spread wide, bearing delicate pastries and frosted cakes like blossoms of confectionery.

  “These are from the birthday feast,” Dao’ov said, stroking his beard. “Go on, children—help yourselves.”

  Delighted cheers erupted as the apprentices rushed to pluck the treats from the tree. Meanwhile, Dao’ov and his wife turned toward the spiral wooden staircase.

  As they ascended, Dao’ov paused to address a young female apprentice, who was already nibbling on a pastry. “Xiao Yezi, if anyone from the main city comes again, tell them I’ve withdrawn from their research. Say I’ve lost interest, and that they are not to disturb Meika or me. We’ll be secluded in the laboratory for quite some time.”

  The girl blinked her large eyes, carefully repeated his words, and nodded solemnly.

  Dao’ov had just lifted his foot to the next step when Meika sighed softly. “Xiao Yezi,” she added, “your teacher has accepted a new student. His name is Glenn. Should he arrive, inform us immediately.”

  The girl’s eyes sparkled. “A new classmate?!”

  Dao’ov slapped his forehead. “Ah, I nearly forgot!” Then, with a smile, he said, “Yes—he’ll be my twenty-eighth apprentice.”

  Xiao Yezi squealed with joy and hurried off to share the news with the others.

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  Dao’ov chuckled. “My memory’s been slipping lately. Thank you for the reminder, my dear Meika.”

  Meika smiled faintly. “Come, we’ve work to do. Even now, I can scarcely believe that an error could exist in the sacred codex of magic itself. The implications for our entire field… are unimaginable.”

  The couple continued their quiet conversation as they ascended the stairs. …

  “What did you just say?!”

  The old man nearly shouted, eyes wide with disbelief. Inside his cluttered study, Glenn had just revealed that both his Light and Dark affinities measured around ninety.

  “This joke isn’t funny at all!” the old man wheezed, struggling to calm his breath.

  Glenn merely smiled faintly. “I’ve told you the truth. Whether you believe it or not is your choice—but don’t say I didn’t warn you later.”

  Telling the old man had been a deliberate decision. Glenn needed his guidance, and such a rare affinity could easily affect his magical development—it was better to be transparent.

  The old man stared at him warily, suspicion clouding his thoughts. What’s his real aim? What does he want?

  “Let’s get back to the lesson,” Glenn said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “No need to dwell on what you won’t believe anyway.”

  The old man nodded, his eyes drifting to the book Glenn had handed him. The text was far superior to any basic magic primer one could buy, even among the finest available. As a doctor of magical theory, he recognized quality when he saw it.

  He flipped through a few more pages, growing ever more certain—whoever had written or taught from this book was no ordinary mage.

  Without a word, he ascended the stairs and returned moments later with a square wooden board.

  “Regarding the questions you raised earlier,” he said, “I’ll answer them all, one by one. I’ll only explain each once—so listen carefully.”

  Glenn nodded. Once was more than enough; with his memory, he wouldn’t forget a word.

  Before beginning, the old man handed him a long, curved fang. “This comes from a magical beast—what kind doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t know it anyway. Its tooth contains a remarkably pure concentration of elemental force. After I explain magical resonance, try sensing the elements within. If you can distinguish the impurities, it’ll mean you’ve grasped the principle.”

  Glenn tried ahead of time, recalling what he’d read. Despite his efforts, he managed only to feel the elemental flow—discerning impurities remained impossible.

  The old man grunted softly, pulling out a slender, dark stylus that looked much like a chalk pen, though it never shortened with use. He began to write on the square wooden board.

  “The questions you’ve asked,” he said with a teacher’s authority, “are ones that trouble nearly every beginner. You’ve already figured out a few others on your own, so we’ll skip those. Let’s begin with the first—how to construct magical conduits…”

  The lecture lasted a little over an hour—brief, considering Glenn’s few but complex questions. There were several moments of practice between explanations, many of which ended in failure despite clear understanding.

  Neither of them was surprised. Mastery was never born from a single attempt—it demanded time, repetition, and patience.

  After leaving the old man’s home, Glenn placed the book safely back at his house. He told Tia she could visit the elf girl if she grew bored; he imagined the elf must be equally restless.

  As for himself, Glenn set off beyond the town, heading toward a distant farm.

  Before leaving, he had asked the old man where he might purchase livestock. “There’s a small farm in Dood Town,” the old man had said. “But if you’re looking for larger stock, follow the road past Bayek and watch for a sign—there’s a place called Filna with a proper farm. You’ll find all the common beasts there.”

  Pleased with the answer, Glenn wasted no time. The deer cart was occupied, but that hardly mattered—he could simply run.

  As he traveled, he held tightly to the magical beast’s fang, practicing the art of elemental sensing without pause.

  He had told the old man it was a loan—but both of them knew it was unlikely ever to be returned.