Two elves approached Icariel and Elif from ahead.
Their presence alone slowed the air around them.
They wore traditional elven garments—not the battle-ready gear Icariel had come to expect from warriors, but soft, flowing robes like something out of a painting of the old gods. They looked like twin spirits of the forest, dressed in deep green and gold. The man had short, moss-colored hair and a firm, proud posture. The woman's golden hair shimmered like sunlight on leaves, braided and bound behind her shoulder.
But it wasn't their appearance that gave Icariel pause.
It was their age.
Despite the natural elven beauty that dulled wrinkles and softened time, there was no mistaking the weight of the years in their eyes. These two were old. Far too old.
Elif instinctively stopped walking. Icariel followed, glancing at her for a brief second.
"Excuse me," the elderly elven woman said gently, her voice calm but firm.
Icariel stayed silent, watching them cautiously.
Meanwhile, inside Aelar's home...
Princess Virethiel and Aelar sat across from each other at the half-moon table. The morning light filtered through the window, casting soft golden beams across the polished surface.
Elena placed a steaming teacup before the princess. "Enjoy. I hope you like it, Highness."
"Thank you, Elena. You really make the best tea," Virethiel replied, her voice smooth as velvet.
"You flatter me," Elena said with a shy smile, placing a hand over her mouth. "If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my room."
Virethiel gave a nod of approval, and Elena disappeared quietly through the hallway, leaving them alone.
The moment the door closed, Virethiel leaned back with a sigh and smiled.
"Come now, Master," she said. "Don't act so stiff when we're alone. It's weird."
Aelar chuckled. "Old habits. And it is part of the rules, you know."
"Hah. Still as stiff as ever." She sipped her tea.
"I know you're strong—since I trained you—but you need to stop going out alone. Especially now. They're still… lurking, you know that," Aelar said grimly.
"I'm aware," Virethiel said. "We'll hold a meeting soon to address it. But let's leave that aside for now."
Virethiel placed her cup down. "You mentioned something last time… when you returned after rescuing your daughter. You said you brought back a human boy. That he saved her life, and you were going to reward him. Said he intrigued you."
"Yes," Aelar nodded. "He did all that. And more."
"Well, I completely agree with you," she said. "To think someone his age could see me while I was cloaked in stealth? I was just walking past. I didn't even make a sound."
Aelar smirked faintly. "I only take the best students."
"You've only ever taken two," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Me. And him."
"Exactly," Aelar replied. "The best."
Virethiel smiled at that… but only for a moment.
Her tone turned cold. "But, Master," she said seriously, "I don't think you're telling me everything about that boy."
Aelar blinked, then leaned back slightly. "What do you mean?"
"He has no magic circles. Not even a mana core," she said flatly. Her emerald eyes locked onto his.
Aelar said nothing, but his thoughts churned beneath the surface. "Of course she noticed. How could she not?"
"And yet," she continued, voice low, "when you came earlier after his call for help, he stood behind you… he cast a spell. Not just any spell, either. A flame spell—refined into a spear. That's impossible without a core or circles. And it wasn't just that. He had mana flowing through every part of his body. Everywhere. And I could feel it… it was pure."
"Anyone who's really looked at him can see it—he's not normal," Aelar admitted silently. "He shouldn't be capable of what he does."
A long pause filled the air.
Virethiel leaned forward slightly, green eyes sharp as daggers.
"Tell me, Master—how is he doing it?"
Aelar stared down into his tea. "I… have no clue."
Virethiel leaned back in her chair, staring at the swirling tea in her cup.
"You know how it works, Master," she said, voice quiet but firm. "All magic starts with the formation of a circle. Whether you're pulling from atmospheric mana or from a core, the circle acts as the focus and refinement channel. Without it, you can't control the spell, and the result either breaks the user's body or addicts their mind to raw mana."
She met his eyes again.
"That's why every mage—every true mage—must form circles after a certain level. Not just to shape mana, but to survive it. The circle filters, contains, and tames the flow. Each person's circle develops differently, based on their own traits and affinities."
She lifted a finger, her tone sharpening like a dagger.
"Even when using atmospheric mana, the circle is what keeps it stable. Without it, the mana is too wild to control. And it never becomes completely pure."
Aelar narrowed his eyes. He could see exactly where she was going.
And it chilled him.
"…But that human boy," Princess Virethiel continued, her voice sharper now, "from head to toe—he possesses TRUE pure mana."
Aelar's throat went dry. He already knew it. Hearing it from her only made the reality heavier.
"He's channeling pure mana—no circle, no core—and somehow still casting spells? That shouldn't even be possible without the side effects I mentioned, which he should have shown by now," she said, her eyes narrowing with disbelief.
"I asked him," Aelar said simply.
"And?"
"He said… he taught himself."
"What?" Virethiel's eyes widened in disbelief. "Self-taught?!"
Aelar nodded. "Yes. He told me no one trained him. And I couldn't detect any lie."
The elf princess blinked, stunned. Even for her, that was a rare admission of shock.
"Some humans can fool a low-level detection," she said quietly. "But not mine. And certainly not yours."
"So it means he didn't lie," she muttered, her thoughts spinning. "Incredible…"
She paused. "Does he possess the Infinity Body?"
"No," Aelar said firmly. "Those born with it show clear signs from the moment they draw breath. He has none of them. Besides, the one destined to possess it in this generation has already been born."
"Then how…?" she whispered again, almost to herself.
"I don't know. And neither does he, from what I can tell," Aelar said with a shake of his head. "But just so you know… he's terrible at fighting."
Virethiel blinked again. "What?"
"He's completely untrained in hand-to-hand combat. I sparred with him several times during training. He knows no techniques. He just uses his spells for distractions or direct attacks to protect himself. That's it. But that's exactly why I believe him even more."
"How so?"
He exhaled. "Because the potential is there. That, I'm sure of."
Virethiel grew silent, her gaze distant. After a long moment, she finally said, "Only once before… I saw something similar. But it makes no sense to be related, so I'll leave it aside—for now."
Aelar looked at her closely.
"I said this to Elena as well," he said. "He's either the cursed human child… or the luckiest one."
Virethiel's lips curved into a faint smile. "Maybe. Either way, Master… keep training him. If he really has that potential, he may become useful to us."
"Useful?" Aelar thought. "From what I know, the boy values his life too much to risk it for anyone…"
But he said nothing. He simply nodded.
Virethiel stood and swept her cloak over her shoulders.
"I need to go," she said, already vanishing from sight even as she added, "Say goodbye to Elena for me."
"See you later," Aelar replied softly, still seated.
He rubbed his temples, a deep sigh escaping him.
"I spent all night thinking about him… and now the princess is putting more questions into my head."
He closed his eyes for a second.
"Icariel…"
Meanwhile, back with Icariel and Elif…
"What do they want?" Icariel thought, subtly raising his guard.
The two elderly elves approached gently. Their presence wasn't threatening, just strange. The golden-haired woman smiled kindly.
"Elif," she said in a warm voice. "When we heard what happened to you, we were so worried. We're just glad to see you safe."
"The Warleader and your mother were both deeply troubled," added the green-haired man beside her.
"Thank you for your concern," Elif said with a polite bow. "I'm really okay now."
"We're truly glad," the old woman said, then turned to her husband. "Dear, give her the bag."
The green-haired man stepped forward and handed over a cloth satchel.
"It's from us," he said. "We filled it with good fruits and some rare herbs."
"Oh—no, that's really not necessary," Elif said, flustered.
"Please," the woman insisted. "It's the least we can do."
Elif hesitated, then smiled and took the gift with both hands. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
Their eyes then turned to Icariel. The woman asked, "And who is this young human?"
"Oh," Elif said brightly, "this is my savior. He's the one who saved me when I was outside the tribe. Father brought him himself."
The elderly couple's eyes lit up at once.
"Oh, for tree's sake!" the woman exclaimed. "Dear, give him the other bag!"
The man reached into their satchel again and held out another bundle.
"This young human saved our Warleader's daughter! He's a blessing!"
Icariel's eyes widened. "Ah—no, it's fine. I live with them now, I can just share with Elif."
"No way," the old woman laughed. "We must give you something too!"
Elif leaned in and whispered, "But isn't that your last bag?"
"Don't worry," the old man said cheerfully. "We'll gather more later."
He lowered his head slightly and offered the bag to Icariel once more.
"…Then you leave me no choice," Icariel said, accepting it. "Thank you… kind elves."
The couple beamed with joy, faces bright as morning.
"We should go," Elif said quietly. "I think they're done by now."
Icariel nodded.
"Thank you again," Elif said with another bow.
"Take care," the old woman smiled. "And thank you, young human."
Icariel turned and gave a final glance. "Thank you," he echoed softly.
As they walked away, his grip on the gift bag tightened slightly. Something warm bloomed inside him.
"They really are kind… happy just to give…"
It reminded him of Galien—how the man had given him his first axe before a hunt, without expecting anything in return.
A small smile tugged at Icariel's lips.
Elif noticed and raised a brow. "You're smiling. What, did a bag of fruit make you that happy?"
"Nah," he replied, glancing down at the bag. "The act did."