As if waiting for the signal, four Cores flared at once.
Zeke felt a faint draw on the ambient Mana as the four apprentice-level Mages did their utmost to display their progress.
By far, the strongest pull came from Keiran. The boy with the perfect affinity was already handling Mana on par with a weaker True Mage. His Core, working with almost no loss, turned neutral ambient Mana into pure, Space-attuned Mana.
It radiated from him in waves, pleasantly brushing against Zeke’s senses. It tasted of ozone and freedom.
The next strongest draw came from Kallen. Despite her weak affinity, her Core was far more developed than the other two. Still, Zeke could sense how much Mana was wasted. That was the curse of a lesser Core—twice the effort for half the result.
But in her case, it wasn’t as crippling as it might have been for others. Time affinity spells were famously efficient. With only a fraction of the Mana required for other affinities, they could achieve remarkable effects. The price, however, was precision. They demanded an almost frightening level of control.
The feeling of Time Mana was unlike anything else. Not pleasant, not unpleasant—simply inevitable. Like watching the sunrise, knowing nothing could halt its climb.
Finally, his attention shifted to Lue. Metal and Mind mixed within her Core, forming something both familiar and strange. Zeke knew well the cold, logical presence of Mind Mana. But combined with Metal, it carried another quality altogether. His mind conjured the image of millions of tiny gears locking into place, powering some vast mechanism whose end he could not see.
Finally, his focus shifted to his little sister, her face flushed red from maintaining her output for so long. Even so, her draw had not faltered.
Nature and Life.
The blend of these two affinities could be summed up in a single word: Pleasant.
It felt like a cool summer breeze tousling his hair, carrying the scent of pine and flowers.
If ever there were affinities made to complement one another, it was these two. Zeke almost wished he could distill their essence into a fragrance, just so he could enjoy it all day.
Zeke shook off the distraction and motioned for the four to stop.
Relief spread across their faces as they relaxed their Cores, waiting eagerly for his feedback. Their expectant looks were almost adorable, making him wonder if he, too, had been like that in his first months after Awakening.
Likely not. The brutally competitive environment of the Elementium would have robbed him of such childish eagerness quickly.
All the better, then, that his sister and wards would not be forced down that same path. Competition was good—but not when it stripped all joy from those who competed.
“Impressive,” he said to their visible joy. “Now show me your control.”
This time, the roles reversed. Kallen, who had seemed the least confident before, stepped forward with pride shining on her face.
Zeke focused. His spatial perception gave him a far clearer picture than raw Mana sense ever could. Even so, he could only vaguely follow what Kallen was doing. Not that it mattered, the result was plain to all.
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick…
Four ticks. Each one spaced exactly a second apart.
Zeke’s jaw nearly dropped.
This was Tick —the very first of his own Time Magic spells. He hadn’t even known Kallen had begun learning spells, much less that she could already cast one effectively.
That pace was terrifying for a Time Mage. It was said that most required at least a year after awakening before they had the control to attempt their first spell. In this regard, Kallen was far ahead of the pack.
This girl…
Zeke knew what this meant. Twelve hours a day spent inside the Mana Purifying device, and now he knew exactly how she had been spending the other twelve.
His expression hardened, all mirth vanishing as he locked eyes with the hopeful young girl.
“Well done.”
Two simple words. No flowery praise, no grand gestures. Yet Zeke spoke with complete sincerity, doing his best to show that he understood how much work it had taken to get this far.
Kallen bowed again, but Zeke's spatial sense told him that it wasn’t a gesture of respect this time. It was to hide the tears welling in her reddened eyes.
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“I’ll go next,” Keiran said at once, stepping forward to shield his sister from the moment.
Naturally, Zeke didn’t call it out. He allowed the brother to come to her rescue.
Keiran’s control was… well, there was no polite way to put it: it was terrible.
Zeke understood the reason better than anyone. The Mana produced by a Perfect Core was like a rampaging beast. His own Perfect Blood affinity had caused him no small amount of trouble, but unlike the relatively docile Blood Mana, Keiran had to wrestle a torrent of Space itself.
And if there was one thing Space hated, it was being controlled.
Zeke nodded, his expression caught between a wince and an encouraging smile.
Keiran stepped back, his head bowed. His attempt to shield his sister had come at a cost—a serious blow to his pride, as his two reddened ears made clear.
Fortunately, there was nobody to laugh at his poor showing.
Maya and Lue weren’t much better off themselves. Though their affinities were easier to handle, each had to juggle two at once. That split in focus slowed their progress with both. It was much like a child raised with two languages—often slower to speak, and their words more halting at first.
Again, this was something Zeke knew all too well from personal experience.
He clapped his hands, drawing his wards’ attention. “Control isn’t something that can be forced. Even if it doesn’t feel like it now, every hour you invest brings you one step closer to your goals.”
Though true, the words offered little comfort. With Kallen around, Zeke himself wouldn’t have believed them either. That girl was simply a freak.
“When am I gonna get my tutor?” Maya asked hopefully. “Any progress?”
Zeke sighed. He had mentally chosen Cassius as her mentor the moment her affinities were revealed, but his search for the man had stalled completely. That particular half-elf and his Titan wife were like the wind—impossible to pin down. It seemed they could only be encountered by chance, never by pursuit.
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t expect too much, Maya. Even the best mentor can only guide you. Doing the work will still be your responsibility.”
Maya pouted but didn’t argue. After all, Kallen had mastered her first spell without a tutor, leaving her with no excuses. Even so, Zeke understood his sister’s hope. Having Maximilian as a mentor had been invaluable to him, and he had wished to find someone similar for her.
“I will do my best to find suitable tutors for both of you,” he promised, looking at Maya and Keiran in turn. “But in the meanwhile, do not waste time. Until you’ve mastered the basic spells from Maximilian’s collection, there isn’t much a tutor can help you with.”
At that, their expressions grew more resolute. It was always better to give people a concrete goal. That way, they felt more in control of their situation. The only downside was that Zeke had also placed a timer on his promise.
If he couldn’t find suitable tutors before they mastered the basics, he would be in trouble.
Before he could continue, a strange sensation gripped his body. It was like a gentle pull, urging him to follow. Zeke had never felt anything like it, yet he knew exactly what it meant.
A small smile spread across his face as he allowed the force to take hold.
“Work hard—”
That was all he managed to say before the surrounding Space swallowed him whole.
In the next moment, Zeke found himself in a different, yet familiar place. As expected, not far away stood the man he had anticipated.
“…Good to see you, Solon,” Zeke said, doing his best to hide his eagerness.
The somewhat gloomy-looking man nodded back, unbothered by the casual tone. Zeke had already noticed during his last visit that none of the Exarchs around King Midas cared much for formalities.
That suspicion had now been proven.
“Come,” the man urged, pointing behind him.
Zeke stepped closer, still unable to use his spatial perception within the Exarch’s domain of absolute control. He had no idea what Solon wanted to show him until he moved near enough to peer over the man’s shoulder.
There, he found a bowl filled with strange purple sand.
He shot Solon a questioning look.
Solon pointed at the bowl. “The old man thought you might want to see this…”
Before Zeke could ask what it was, the change began. The sand, inert only moments before, stirred. A few grains shifted at first, then the entire bowl rose into the air, arranging itself into the image of two men locked in conversation.
Though the scene lacked color, their faces were so finely detailed that Zeke recognized one immediately—wavy shoulder-length hair, high cheekbones, thin lips.
Azra von Hohenheim.
Zeke didn’t recognize the other man, though his features marked him as an Empire native.
So this was Solon’s method of spying? Or simply the medium he used to present his findings? Either way, it was fascinating—though Zeke still considered it inferior to his own Sphere of Awareness.
After all, he couldn’t even hear what they were—
Just as the thought crossed his mind, words appeared in the air beside the unknown man.
“…You have received your orders.”
Azra’s face twisted bitterly, his fists clenching at his sides. “Please… if I were just given another chance.”
The man shook his head. “Midas personally requested your replacement.” He hesitated, then added, “The list of overreaches and bribes he accused you of is… quite extensive.”
Azra’s expression shifted from unwilling to angry before collapsing into helplessness.
“So what? We let the kid get away with it?”
The man shook his head again. “That is no longer your concern.”
“What if I challenged him openly?”
Zeke’s heart skipped a beat.
Azra wanted to fight him? Had his name day come early this year? From the very beginning, that had been the outcome Zeke most desired. It would be the perfect chance to rid himself of a future threat once and for all.
But the hope was short-lived.
"No," the man said. "Your existence is too valuable to risk on such an uncertain gamble."
"Has the Chancellor lost faith in me?" Azra asked, dismayed.
The stranger's tone grew firm. "The Chancellor's thoughts are his own. It is not for us to question his orders."
The fight drained out of Azra. His body sagged, collapsing inward.
"…How long do I have?"
"You are expected to leave before day's end."
With that, the stranger turned and walked away without a backward glance.
Azra stood motionless, staring into empty air for a long time. Then, a single word slipped from his lips.
"Shit…"
The sand projection collapsed, grains drifting back into the bowl.
"With this," Solon said, "the old man has kept one of his promises."
Zeke nodded. He'd never doubted Midas's sincerity, but seeing it confirmed was satisfying.
Still, now that he was here, he had no intention of wasting the opportunity. Before Solon could think of sending him back, Zeke raised a hand to stop him.
The Exarch paused, his gaze sharp and questioning.
Zeke considered how to approach this. He knew too little about this man to attempt a tailored approach, so he chose honesty.
"Can I ask you for a personal favor?"