“If you’re not too tired, I’d like to continue right away.”

  My master went straight to business. Not only had he just made me enter a potentially deadly pact, but now he intended to keep squeezing me dry like a lemon.

  “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I sighed, stepping toward him.

  He gestured for me to follow. “No, not really,” he chuckled, moving to the center of the cave.

  “Won’t my parents be suspicious if we don’t get back home?” I pointed out.

  “I took the liberty of informing them that we’d be away for a week,” he reassured me before tossing the grimoire back at me. “We have all the time in the world.”

  “Oh, wonderful,” I rolled my eyes.

  “If I were you, I’d make the most of this week,” he suggested, flashing a sympathetic smile, almost as if he pitied me for what was coming.

  “Because once this week is over, your father is going to train you.”

  * * *

  “If you’re ready, I’m loosening the seal!” Baryon called out from a safe distance.

  I nodded. “Ready when you are.”

  Baryon focused for a second before motioning for me to proceed.

  Visualization of what you want to achieve is crucial.

  That was what he had drilled into me nonstop over the past few days.

  I pictured a gentle, clear stream flowing out from the lake toward me, and immediately mana responded with a strange warmth spreading through me, and filling me with energy.

  The familiar tingling numbness of mana wrapped around me, melting away some of the exhaustion I had built up over the past days.

  “Go!” He shouted.

  For the past few days, we had focused on refining my control over mana. Controlling mana to make it obey your will was like an endurance test. As long as the mage’s mind remained firm, the only limit was imagination.

  Up until now, Baryon had taught me how to extract mana from the atmosphere and use it to strengthen myself. But today something different was on schedule.

  Today’s goal was putting together everything I’d learned so far, possibly without completely burning myself out in the process.

  “Fireball!” I shouted as I attempted to cast the spell every fire conjurer worthy of their name had in their arsenal. The training dummy I shared the face with stared at me deadpan in the eyes, as though it was not surprising that I’d just failed.

  Baryon had thought it would be a fine addition for our training. “Don’t worry, It won’t judge you,” he’d said.

  Like hell it’s not judging, I cursed under my breath. Didn’t I take in enough this time?

  “Start with something simpler. Don’t skip steps now,” my master said. “Try with a spell that will stick close to you, it should be easier for you to control it.”

  Averting my gaze from the probing eyes of the dummy, I read through another formula in the grimoire, completing the spell. This time, a brilliant purple barrier wrapped around my body, ready to defend against attacks.

  A relieved breath escaped my mouth.

  “Don’t stop now,” Baryon encouraged me. “Try another one, then punch it!”

  “Flame flare!” The simple elemental spell formed instantly in my hands.

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  Unlike before, I didn’t even need to read its chant this time, since I had a quite clear depiction of the spell in my mind already.

  A soft red flame flickered to life, licking my fingers. “Sorry buddy,” I muttered as my flaming fist connected with a loud crunch with the dummy’s face; the whole head was sent flying across the cave, then fizzling out with the rest of the dummy in a flicker of silvery wisps.

  “Good! I’m putting the seal back on,” he nodded, satisfied with the result.

  Just to be extra cautious, he had positioned himself a good ten yards away, safely tucked behind half a dozen barriers.

  The warmth of mana soon faded from my body, and I plumped ungraciously to the ground, completely drained. This had been our seventh session of the day.

  To make sure I could recover properly—and not to put too much strain on the seal—we had been taking one-hour breaks between each session. Even with this controlled rhythm, Baryon had remained constantly on guard. Luckily, the seal hadn’t shown any signs of weakening.

  “I’d say we can wrap things up for today,” Baryon announced.

  I raised an eyebrow, surprised, but I wasn’t about to complain. He had conditioned me to far more grueling days over the past week.

  My skin was crawling with excitement. I’d taken huge leaps in these few days here in the underwater cave, and the last thing I wanted right now was stopping. However, I also knew how to appreciate a break when it was offered.

  “How are you feeling?” He asked, handing me what would be our final meal for the day.

  Despite being several miles away from civilization, my master somehow seemed to have access to an endless supply of provisions. Nothing fancy, but after a long day of training, it didn’t take much to satisfy me.

  “Surprisingly well,” I replied, opening the pouch he gave me. “A tad tired, of course, but I feel like I could keep going for a bit longer today.”

  Baryon shook his head, chuckling. “Ah, youth… No, it’s best to stop here for today. After all, we’re heading back home tomorrow.

  “It wouldn’t do for you to show up to your parents looking like a wreck,” he added, brushing some leftover crumbs off his hands.

  My shoulders sagged slightly. Truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. I hadn’t expected anything special for the last day, but I hadn’t thought we’d just go home like that either.

  I crossed my arms, pouting.

  “But, I do have something to show you,” Baryon continued, immediately catching my attention as he read the disappointment on my face.

  “If you’re interested, I can show you something I found recently.”

  Swallowing down the last bite of my dinner, I shot to my feet. “Lead the way, master.”

  He led me toward one of the corners of the cavern, to a spot half hidden by the stalagmites. He pointed to a narrow crevice between the rocks; it was practically impossible to spot it from a distance.

  “You were the one who opened this, you know?” He said with a grin. “I’d say it’s one of the few good things to come out of your, uh… incident.”

  I nodded. I could clearly remember the rock crumbling under the pressure of mana erupting from me. The groaning of the cavern ceiling had been prime nightmare fuel.

  “Have you already explored it?” I asked as I followed him through.

  “While you were sleeping. It was an incredibly lucky find. I suspected there would be one here, but I never expected to stumble upon it so easily.”

  “What did you find?”

  Baryon slipped through the rocks, disappearing from view. He came back into view as soon as I reached the end of the tight tunnel we had crawled through.

  The path between the rocks opened into a small secondary cavern, illuminated by a soft glow.

  “I found that,” he said proudly, pointing to a rock formation ahead of us.

  Two large blue crystals protruded from the ground, arching toward each other about two yards above the floor.

  “Alchemists call it Zekyon,” he explained. “It’s a rather rare crystal with several interesting properties… though those aren’t what concern us right now.”

  “What makes it so special?” I asked, running a hand over the crystal.

  It was cold to the touch, and it seemed to be… vibrating?

  Baryon smirked. “I’m sure you’ve heard of teleportation gates.”

  My eyes widened. “Don’t tell me—”

  “Looks like we’ve found an unregistered one.”

  Teleportation portals were a remnant of Erde’s past, perhaps one of the most significant ones still in use today. It had taken decades and the combined efforts of the greatest minds of humanity before we had managed to understand how they worked.

  The registered portals, the ones you typically found in large cities, could instantly transport people to a predetermined destination.

  Unregistered portals, however—the few that still existed—had no set destination.

  They were an invaluable resource for anyone lucky enough to find one.

  “Too bad we don’t know how to calibrate it,” I sighed.

  “Speak for yourself, young master,” Baryon said smugly.

  “Ever since I became your tutor, I’ve lost many things,” he joked—or at least, I hoped he was joking.

  “But memory wasn’t one of them.”