It was already broad daylight by the time they made it home. Luther dove right into bed, pulling the blanket over himself like a cocoon.

  More than an hour later.

  “Ringggggg!” The alarm blared, bursting into sound.

  Luther reached out, shut it off, then sat up, staring blank into space for a whole minute as if his mind had shut down altogether.

  “You’re exhausted. Just stay home and rest today,” Acher said.

  The black-haired boy shook his head.

  “I can. Go to school.”

  Looking into the mirror and seeing the dark circles beneath his eyes, Luther made a decision:

  “Only. One mission a week. Friday night. Or. Saturday night.”

  “Up to you, kid. It’s not like there are that many missions to do anyway. For now, it’s best to focus on leveling up so we can go to other places,” Acher replied with a shrug.

  “Okay.” Luther nodded, letting out a long yawn.

  “Those who return at dawn” wasn’t at all the kind of job suited to a high school student.

  Throughout the school day, Luther kept drifting in and out of sleep, nodding off again and again. His mind just couldn’t seem to focus on the lessons at all.

  “Are you alright, Luther? Couldn’t sleep last night?” Mr. Bryce asked with concern.

  “I’m okay,” Luther replied.

  By noon, after finishing lunch, he couldn’t resist the weight of sleep any longer. He wrapped himself in his mysterious cloak and fell into a deep nap, staying that way until the school bell rang at the end of the day.

  “I told you to stay home and rest,” Acher muttered with a side glance.

  “You right. Next time. I listen to you,” Luther nodded.

  …

  As the weather began to cool down, Luther’s garden grew even more vibrant. The crisp air seemed to bring out brighter colors in the plants. But when the temperature dropped too low, most of the vegetables would die. At that point, only the apple tree and the rose bushes could withstand the cold.

  The lemon bushes, though more resilient than leafy greens, still couldn’t survive if the snowfall got too heavy. Luther had learned that the hard way during the first winter after his grandpa had passed away. At the time, the lemon trees had just started bearing fruit, and he had been looking forward to enjoying refreshing glasses of lemonade. But then a single snowstorm wiped them all out, leaving him scowling with frustration.

  The following year, he figured out how to protect them. He planted each tree in its own clay pot, and whenever the cold outside became unbearable, he would carry them indoors and keep them there until March or April, when the weather began to warm again.

  Although the lack of sunlight made them look a bit droopy, they still managed to survive through the harsh but beautiful winter of New York.

  Sounds like a hassle, doesn’t it? But Luther was willing to do all of that because he was a certified, diehard lemonade addict.

  At the moment, he was tending to his garden while Acher sprawled out on the stone bench, basking in the sunlight in total comfort. Next to the raven was a neatly arranged plate of sliced apples.

  Luther watered the plants, pulled weeds, and picked any ripe and ready vegetables. Midway through his gardening, something popped into his mind. He paused, stood in thought for a moment, then dashed into the house. When he returned, he was holding a white crystal in his hand.

  “What are you bringing that out here for?” Acher asked, tilting his head.

  “Fertilize. You said so.”

  Luther remembered the raven once mentioning that Ether crystals could be used in farming. He wanted to test whether they could serve as a kind of magical fertilizer.

  “What a waste! Do you have any idea how many pots of beef stew you could trade that for?” Acher shook his head in dismay.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Where to. Sell it?” Luther asked, straightforward as ever.

  Acher couldn’t answer. How was he supposed to know that? So far, they hadn’t even encountered another person from the magical world.

  “Well, even though you can’t sell it yet, you could still use it to speed up your magic absorption. You should hurry and level up to become an adept mage. I’m tired of being squished in those tiny crowded buses,” he grumbled.

  “One’s enough.”

  Luther had been using the other crystal each night to assist his magic absorption. He estimated that it would last him for an entire month.

  He then crushed a small portion of the crystal into powder, mixed it into a watering can, and gave the garden an extra round of watering. He also buried some of the powder at the base of the apple tree, the lemon bushes, and the rose shrubs.

  “Back in ancient times, even noble families in the supernatural world wouldn’t waste pure white Ether Crystals on ordinary plants like this. All the etherstones were prioritized for farming magical vegetation. Let’s see what kind of weird stuff your plants will turn into,” Acher said while chomping down on a huge slice of apple.

  That evening, their dinner was chicken Pad Thai. Luther had learned to make it from a Thai-Australian chef on YouTube.

  “You did a great job cooking this!” Acher praised with genuine surprise.

  He stood in the middle of a chaotic mess on the table. Noodles, bean sprouts, crushed peanuts, and bits of chicken were scattered all over the place, some even stuck to his neck.

  This still happened despite Luther having tied a napkin around his neck and plated his portion in a small dish, with the intention of stopping him from diving face-first into the food.

  “So messy!” Luther scolded with a glare.

  “Can’t help it when the food’s good. It’s your fault for cooking too well,” Acher defended himself while pecking at the last few pieces of chicken.

  Luther could only sigh and surrender. After clearing the table, he dragged the filthy raven off for a bath.

  While drying his feathers, the boy made up his mind: next time, he’d buy a large plastic tub, like a kiddie pool, so Acher could eat inside it. That way, once mealtime was over, he’d just need to rinse out the tub.

  After finishing his homework, Luther sat cross-legged on his bed, absorbing magic from the surrounding air while holding an Ether Crystal in his hand. Bit by bit, deep blue snowflake-like particles began to shimmer and drift around him and then converge toward his chest.

  At the same time, the etherstone also released similar particles for him to absorb.

  After about fifteen minutes, a drop of dark liquid, glowing with bluish light, started to take form and hovered within Luther’s crescent-shaped Ether Focal Point.

  “That’s faster than I expected. Very good. I thought it’d take you a lot longer,” Acher commented.

  “How much longer … adept mage?” Luther asked.

  “When the Focal Point fills up with liquefied magic, you’ll be ready to perform the blood etherization ritual to level up. At this pace … it should take a few more weeks, maybe,” Acher answered. “Alright, now let’s study some magic. I’ll teach you a few basic dark magic spells.”

  Luther straightened up, ready to hear every word.

  “The first spell is Grip of Shadow. It will let you summon a shadowy hand that can grab or move objects from a distance. Once you master it, you can even change its shape at will, not just limited to a hand, which makes it super useful. To cast it, focus your magic into any shadow nearby and chant ‘Kratoskia’ in your mind.”

  Luther followed the instructions.

  A pitch-black hand, complete with long, razor-sharp claws and wrapped in dark flames, emerged from the shadow of the table. Luther waved it like kids having a new toy, eyes gleaming with excitement.

  “How does it feel?” Acher asked.

  “Very cool. Easier than. I thought.”

  “Of course it is. You’re a lord of Hell, remember? The power of darkness is just a part of your instinct. The strength of your Grip of Shadow already matches, if not exceeds, the level of an adept mage,” Acher replied.

  “The next spell is Veil of Lies. This one allows you to create illusions that change the appearance of objects or terrains. Just imagine what you want to see and recite: Kalymmapséudos.”

  When Luther tried it, the shadows of the surrounding objects twisted, exaggerated, shifted in strange forms, and the room around them transformed into a vast sea of bubbling, molten lava.

  “A novice mage with such power. As expected of a living Ascended One, remarkable,” Acher murmured.

  “The third spell is Conclave of Darkness. With it, you can send a summoning invitation to a creature from the Underworld. If it accepts, you can bring it into this world to serve you. But be warned, this spell is dangerous. Sinkin of Hell are infamous not only for their madness, but also for their sheer brutality and unnerving cunning. A single mistake, and you could be devoured whole.”

  …

  In the sixth layer of Hell, at some corner of the eighth ring, lay a vast plain covered in countless burning tombs of various shapes and sizes.

  Standing tall in the center of this realm was an enormous palace engulfed in radiant red flames. Its grounds spanned more than ten square miles and were divided into numerous sectors. The entire structure was surrounded by a wall of crimson stone, featuring a total of seventy-two gates, each guarded by a group of armed demons.

  This was the Aithon Palace, the residence of the mighty archdemon Haimeros.

  At Gate Forty-Two of the palace, a group of demons stood guard, each clutching their weapon with unwavering focus.

  The most imposing among them was a demon of the Ember Sentinel species. He was massive and muscular, with stone armor fused with his skin, ablaze and forming a fiery shield. His eyes glowed like smoky ash pits, and his voice crackled like burning logs.

  This was Pyrion, a high-ranking demon. He was the strongest among the gatekeepers of Gate Forty-Two and also the commander of the demon squad stationed there.

  “So boring,” Pyrion grumbled, giving a nearby rock a hard kick that sent it flying off into the distance.

  He had been guarding this gate for over twelve years. And he still had more than seven years left before his shift would end.

  Just as the demon let out a weary sigh, burning letters made of fire appeared in front of him.

  It was a summoning contract.