Two days had passed by since then. Since Reinhart and the kids had been transported to the mysterious island.

  After the attack from the Gorgonix, the group turned north, following Reinhart. He deliberately took a path opposite the direction the girl had come from—avoiding unnecessary confrontation with any more beasts that might be prowling in the same direction.

  The trees creaked quietly in the wind, but none of them said anything for a while.

  The only thing on their minds now was survival.

  Reinhart had made multiple attempts to trace the energy signatures of the other teachers and Layla, and confirm if there were other students present with them on the island. But all his efforts fall in vain.

  Every trial led to error. His sensory abilities were being interrupted by something he couldn't pinpoint. He also considered searching the island himself but he couldn't afford to leave the students behind without any form of protection knowing there were mana beasts present on the island.

  All Reinhart could do now was explore in slow, and calculated steps. So, after an entire day of navigating rugged terrain, he set up a camp for the students to rest.

  Thankfully, the island wasn’t completely unforgiving. It was scattered with edible fruits and tubers, and Reinhart—despite never saying much—seemed to have a working knowledge of which plants were safe.

  On their way through the forest, he’d picked and stored dried vinefruit for energy, rootberries with natural hydration properties, and even carved thick leaves to use as water scoops from a nearby stream.

  By nightfall, the camp had been formed in a shallow clearing surrounded by high trees and wide stones for cover.

  Simple tents stitched from cloth and reinforced leaves were set around a central fire pit, and crude but stable barriers formed a perimeter around the space. For what it was, it was efficient. Safe enough. Comfortable enough.

  But they all knew it couldn’t last forever.

  ***

  Night had come, accompanied with the long shadows cast out by the moonlight. Most of the students had already gone to sleep, scattered across the tents, their soft breathing barely audible beneath the faint sounds of insects around the forest.

  Only Levi, Violet, and Kyle remained seated around a flame lit by Reinhart.

  Kyle leaned back against a flat rock, his arms folded behind his head as he stared into the fire.

  “Impressive, huh,” he muttered.

  "Huh?” Levi responded.

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  Kyle gave a sideways smirk, nodding toward the rest of the camp. “Mr. Reinhart. I mean... he might have an idea what’s going on, but I’m sure he’s almost as lost as we are. And yet he’s barely shown it.”

  Levi followed his gaze and let out a short breath. “Yeah. The guy jumped into an unknown situation, built a functional camp from scratch, and just... carried on like it’s nothing.” He glanced at the tents, "Still... I bet he’s racking his brain trying to figure it all out.”

  Violet, who sat cross-legged beside Levi with her arms wrapped loosely around her knees, added, “He doesn’t talk much unless he’s teaching. No one really knows what he’s like. Or at least no student does.”

  “I heard he shares the same name as that retired lieutenant from Squad Two,” Kyle said, raising a brow.

  “Yeah, I think—”

  He cut off immediately when a voice—low, calm, and way too close—spoke up behind him.

  “Troublemakers shouldn’t be up this late,” Reinhart said. “You’ll need the energy to cause more trouble tomorrow.”

  Kyle nearly jumped out of his skin. “Gah—! Sir! I—uh, we were just—”

  Reinhart walked past him with a faint sigh and sat on a nearby log, folding his arms. The firelight caught the edges of his glasses, briefly hiding his expression. For a moment, none of them spoke.

  They all just sat there, four silhouettes around a flame in the heart of an unfamiliar world.

  Then Levi’s voice broke the silence.

  “Mr. Reinhart... which are you? Mage? Or…”

  Kyle and Violet both turned toward him, surprised. Of the three of them, Levi had always been the quietest. The last they’d expect to open a conversation, especially like this.

  Reinhart didn’t look away from the fire. “Mage,” he said simply.

  Levi nodded slowly, then asked again, “So what exactly determines how strong a mage is? The amount of mana they can gather?”

  This time, Reinhart shifted his gaze, eyes meeting Levi’s.

  He didn’t need it spelled out to understand what the boy was doing—building a bridge, one awkward question at a time.

  For someone like Reinhart, and someone like Levi, who shared silence as a familiar ground, Kyle and Violet could only exchange glances and say nothing.

  They could only watch in quiet surprise, unsure which was weirder—Levi trying to start a conversation, or Reinhart actually entertaining it.

  Reinhart leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his eyes reflecting the steady flicker of the campfire.

  “Mana capacity is important,” he said, his voice low, “but what mages truly strive for... is refinement.”

  Levi tilted his head, “Refinement?”

  Reinhart nodded once. “Think of mana as crude oil. It's a raw, unprocessed material. Just like crude oil, you can extract multiple fuels from it. Kerosene. Diesel. Petrol. Each one burns differentlysome hotter, more efficient, more volatile.”

  He reached down and picked up a small twig, rolling it between his fingers.

  “The same applies to mana. It’s wild energy, chaotic by nature. And our mana cores... Those evolve with time, with training. As they evolve, so does our ability to process that wild energy into a form our bodies can handle.”

  “So… wait,” Kyle leaned forward, his interest suddenly piqued. “How much you can gather doesn’t actually matter that much?”

  “It does,” Reinhart said, tossing the twig into the fire. “But only to a point. You can have all the raw mana in the world but if you can’t refine it, it’s like trying to power a machine with unfiltered fuel. It won’t get far, and eventually… it’ll break.”

  Violet narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Why not just use it in its raw form then? Skip the refinement?”

  Reinhart let out a faint breath, almost like a sigh. “Because your body wouldn’t survive it. Wild mana is corrosive. Try to channel it directly and it’ll eat away at you from the inside.”

  Before Violet could respond, a sharp sensation cut through the air like a pulse, not through the ears, but directly in the mind. A voice, faint and lacking weight, yet present, echoed inside their heads.

  “...Reinhart…”

  The group tensed. All three students looked up in alarm, and Reinhart’s entire posture shifted, his eyes sharpening, and body going tense.

  He instantly recognized the voice.

  He stood up slowly. “Lian?” he called, his voice still the same as usual but tinged with relief. “Lian, is that you?”

  There was no response. A second of silence passed by, then the voice came again, clearer this time, like a breath on wind but somehow laced with emotion.

  “You can hear me? You actually can…” the voice trembled with quiet disbelief, then exhaled softly. “Oh thank God... finally.”

  The tides were finally beginning to turn.