Morning spread across the city in a strange mixture of normalcy and unease, the streets alive with movement as vendors opened their stalls and carriages rolled along the main roads, yet beneath it all lingered a tension that refused to fade after the events of the night before.

Groups of people gathered at corners and outside shops, their voices carrying urgency as they spoke in hushed but intense tones, every conversation inevitably circling back to the same topic.

"They’re saying it’s at least Level 5..."

"At least? Then what if it gets worse...?"

"It’s in Velmora District, right? That’s Valmont territory..."

"Exactly, which means this isn’t something small... something like that doesn’t just happen..."

"What about the academy? Will they send students...?"

"I heard the upper years are already being deployed..."

The words overlapped as Damon walked through the crowd, his presence cutting cleanly through the flow of people without drawing attention, his expression calm as though the unrest around him had nothing to do with him.

His steps eventually led him into a small but well-kept shop, its interior bright and colorful in contrast to the heavy atmosphere outside.

Shelves lined with neatly arranged items stretched across the walls, from mechanical trinkets and carved figurines to puzzles and enchanted playthings that flickered faintly with mana, each piece designed to capture a child’s curiosity in a different way.

It was a toy store.

Damon paused just inside, his gaze moving slowly across the displays as he observed rather than simply looked, his thoughts aligning with quiet calculation.

Children are simple... but not predictable.

His eyes settled on a small mechanical construct—a miniature golem, its joints designed to move with simple commands, sturdy enough to endure rough handling yet intricate enough to hold interest.

Something that moves... something that responds...

Without hesitation, he picked it up.

A boy that age should definitely like it!

Then his gaze shifted again, this time landing on a different section where puzzles were arranged, pieces of varying complexity designed to challenge rather than entertain passively. His fingers brushed lightly against one before selecting a carefully crafted puzzle set, its design intricate but not overwhelming.

Engagement over distraction... something to think about...suitable for a girl.

With both items in hand, he made his way to the counter.

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a practiced smile, straightened slightly as Damon approached, glancing at the items before nodding in approval.

"Fine choices," he said, his tone polite yet warm.

Damon said nothing as he activated his manacron, the transaction completing in a brief flicker of light.

"Thank you for your purchase," the shopkeeper added, inclining his head slightly.

Damon gave a faint nod in acknowledgment before turning and stepping back out into the street, the murmur of the city immediately returning around him as he moved through the crowd once more, his path direct, his pace unchanged.

By the time he reached the waiting carriage, Sahira was already seated inside, her posture straight as she looked up the moment he entered.

"Did you find what you were looking for, young master?" she asked softly.

Damon nodded once as he stepped in, taking his seat opposite her, placing the items inside his manacron without comment.

The door closed.

And as the carriage began to move, its wheels rolling steadily over the stone road, the city slowly started to fall behind them.

Inside the carriage, the steady rhythm of movement softened everything around them, the distant sounds of the city fading into a muted backdrop as the wheels rolled smoothly over the stone road, creating a gentle, almost hypnotic cadence. Damon sat across from Sahira with his back resting lightly against the seat, his posture composed as he slowly closed his eyes, drawing in a measured breath as his thoughts settled into quiet focus.

I might as well use this time to sense my nadis...

The intention formed clearly, yet the execution did not come as easily as before, as the initial darkness behind his closed eyes remained stubbornly unchanged, his awareness scattered, unwilling to slip into that heightened perception immediately.

He did not rush it, however, allowing his breathing to even out while the motion of the carriage gradually dissolved from his senses, his attention turning inward layer by layer until, slowly, something shifted.

When his eyes opened again, the world had transformed.

The space around him was no longer empty air but filled with countless drifting particles, each glowing faintly in its own hue, as though the very fabric of the world had revealed its hidden currents; reds flickered like embers, blues flowed like streams, greens shimmered with quiet vitality, while whites and blacks moved in subtle contrast, blending into an ever-shifting tapestry of motion.

For a brief moment, Damon simply watched, absorbing the sight with quiet intensity before instinct urged him to act, his hand lifting ever so slightly as he reached toward the nearest cluster.

The moment his intent sharpened, the particles scattered.

They slipped away from his grasp as though rejecting control, dispersing into the surrounding space before reforming into their natural flow, untouched and unclaimed. A faint crease formed between his brows as he lowered his hand, understanding settling in with reluctant clarity.

I can’t force it

His gaze steadied again as his thoughts aligned.

I only need to use them to sense my nadi...

The plan followed naturally from there, his mind moving with quiet precision.

And once I sense it, I will fill it with mana awakening it...

A subtle determination took root.

Once the three main nadis awaken... I can finally break through.

Closing his eyes once more, Damon attempted again, this time trying to guide the particles inward rather than seize them, yet even then they resisted, slipping away just before he could stabilize their presence within him, their fleeting nature refusing to conform to his attempts.

The process repeated itself several times, each failure no less frustrating than the last, until a quiet tension began to build beneath his calm exterior.

Then—

A memory surfaced.

"Do not force the mana particles... be the air... not... the container..."

Elowen’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, carrying with it the clarity he had been missing.

Damon exhaled slowly, allowing the tension within his body to dissolve as he consciously released control, his posture relaxing completely as he abandoned the urge to direct and instead allowed himself to simply exist within the flow.

The shift was subtle but immediate, as the particles no longer scattered from him but drifted closer of their own accord, brushing against his presence before slipping inside, not as something taken, but as something accepted.

They flowed through him.

Freely and naturally ,without any resistance.

A deep, unexpected calm spread through his entire body as the mana moved within him without obstruction, his muscles loosening, his breath deepening, his awareness expanding inward as though he had stepped into a space that had always been there but had remained unseen.

And then—He felt it.

Faint and Distant.

Yet unmistakable.

Something within him stirred, a presence just at the edge of perception, subtle but real enough to draw his focus completely as his awareness instinctively reached toward it, trying to grasp it, to understand it—

And in that very moment, everything collapsed.

A crushing pressure seized his chest without warning, the calm shattering violently as the flow within him turned chaotic, his lungs tightening as though the air itself had been ripped away, leaving him gasping as a suffocating force gripped him from within.

His eyes snapped open abruptly, the illusion of the mana-filled world dissolving instantly as reality surged back in, harsh and overwhelming.

His hand shot forward, gripping the edge of the seat as his body tensed, his breathing breaking into uneven, strained attempts as the lingering mana clashed violently inside him, no longer harmonious but unstable and disruptive.

Sahira reacted at once.

The moment she saw him falter, her composure broke as she leaned forward, her hands gripping him in alarm, her voice rising in panic as her eyes widened with fear.

"Y-young master, what happened...? A-are you alright...?"

Damon tried to respond, but the words never came, as his body convulsed slightly and a harsh cough tore through him, forcing a mouthful of blood past his lips, staining his hand as he struggled to steady himself against the surge within.

Sahira’s expression shifted instantly into horror, her grip tightening as she looked at him as though the world had narrowed to that single moment.

"Young master—!"

Damon raised his hand weakly, forcing himself to regain control as he leaned back slightly, his breathing uneven at first before gradually stabilizing, each breath drawn with deliberate effort as he suppressed the lingering chaos within him.

"I... I am fine..." he managed at last, his voice strained but steady enough to hold.

Sahira did not ease.

Her eyes remained fixed on him, filled with worry as she spoke again, her voice trembling despite her attempt to remain composed.

"A-are you really fine...? S-should I ask the carriage to stop... maybe—"

"I am okay," Damon interrupted, this time with more firmness, cutting through her concern even as the faint trace of strain lingered beneath his words, "there is no need to stop."

And though his outward composure had returned—

The echo of what he had felt remained, lingering quietly beneath the surface.

Why?...What did I do wrong?