In the city of Aerithia, where towering spires kissed the sky and magic danced in the air, stood the Tower of Mages—the heart of arcane knowledge. It was here that the most gifted young mages gathered to awaken their mana cores, the wellspring of their power.
After ten long years of rigorous training, the students, now eighteen, stood at the gates of their final trial. Today was the day they would unlock their true potential.
And I stood among them.
To the others, I was just another face in the crowd. Unremarkable. My black hair was unkempt, my clothes slightly loose, my expression distant. The kind of person you'd forget even if we spoke. Around me, excited whispers filled the air—nervous talk about core grades, magical affinities, and the expectations of powerful families.
This was the beginning of their journey into the supernatural—a world where only the strong survived, where each step forward meant clawing your way up the hierarchy of magical ranks. For most, the process of awakening a mana core would be difficult and painful. Some would soar. Others would falter—trapped forever as an F-rank superhuman, their potential sealed.
But none of them knew who I truly was.
Not yet.
I wasn't born in this world. I died on Earth—stabbed in the heart in a back-alley betrayal, left to rot. But death wasn't the end for me. I was given a second chance. Reborn in this world of mana and wonder, my soul entered the body of an infant.
From the very beginning, I was different.
I sensed the world's mana at the age of two. But it wasn't until I discovered Dragon Tongue—an ancient, nearly forgotten language said to be the source of all others—that everything changed.
It was brutally difficult to learn. Even elite mages struggled to comprehend it. But by six, I could speak it fluently.
And when I spoke it, mana listened.
The air would still. Energy would pulse. It didn't feel like I was controlling mana—it felt like it was responding to me.
That's when I knew:
I wasn't just gifted.
I was born to command mana.
At eight, I joined the Arcane Academy like every other child with potential. But unlike them, I wasn't starting from zero. While others learned to crawl, I was already running.
Foundational techniques. Mana flow postures. Elemental breathing patterns. I mastered them all with ease. My instructors praised me, oblivious to the fact that I was holding back.
At twelve, we began mana core simulation training—a process that prepared the body and mind for real awakening. Students guided mana through internal pathways, visualising cycles of energy.
Most could barely complete a single cycle.
I completed nine on my first try.
Forming a mana core required ten perfect circulations for a Grade 1 core. Twenty for Grade 2. Thirty for Grade 3. And so on. Each grade demanded ten more perfect cycles of control.
By the time I was seventeen, I had completed ninety-nine.
Ninety-nine full circulations.
No one knew. If the instructors found out, they would've called me insane. Most students couldn't handle ten without mental burnout. But for me, it had become second nature—like walking a path I'd memorised.
And now, I stood at the edge of legend.
One hundred circulations.
The rumoured threshold for a Grade 10 mana core—a level most believed to be nothing more than myth.
The others around me chatted eagerly as we waited by the Tower's entrance.
"You think you'll get fire or lightning?" Callen asked, cracking his knuckles. "Those are the coolest."
"Keep dreaming," Nora snorted. "Those are A-tier elements. Only a few people awaken with those. Most of us will end up with wind or water if we're lucky."
Rowan smirked. "Fire's not that rare. It just needs the right temperament. E-rank is where the real elemental attunement starts anyway. Before that, it's all raw potential."
Delia nodded thoughtfully. "Right. F-rank cores are neutral. No elemental affinity. You might feel drawn to an element, but you can't control it. That only begins at E-rank."
"So how does it work?" Callen asked. "Let's say I get a strong F-rank core. What happens next?"
Nora leaned back on the steps like she was lecturing a class. "Once you reach E-rank, your mana begins to attune. It starts reacting to specific energies—heat, movement, emotion, even your spirit. That's when signs of an element appear. Fire might flare when you're angry. Wind might stir when you breathe deeply."
"So E-rank is like… unlocking the door?" Callen asked.
"More like knocking on it," Delia said with a grin. "You still need training to step through. Even if you awaken fire, you won't be throwing fireballs on day one."
"F-rank is just a blank slate then?" someone asked.
Rowan replied without turning. "Exactly. Just raw mana—E-rank is when it gets interesting."
"Some awaken weak elemental signs at E-rank," Nora added. "Like sparks or mist. Those guide the instructors on which path to push you down."
"I've been training with heated stones," Callen muttered. "Trying to attract fire mana."
"Smart," I said quietly. "Exposure helps. Surrounding yourself with elemental energy speeds up attunement if your core leans that way."
Callen blinked. "Wait—seriously? You've studied this too?"
I shrugged. "Just observation."
Delia looked at me curiously. "You know a lot for someone who doesn't talk much."
I didn't respond. My focus shifted. I could feel the mana now—rising around the Tower. Threads of energy weaving through the air, pulling us toward the awakening chamber.
It was almost time.
"What if someone never awakens an element?" another voice asked.
Nora's expression turned thoughtful. "Some don't. They stay neutral until D-rank. Just training with raw mana. It's slower, but eventually, the element comes."
"Unless you're… resistant," Rowan added. "Some people can't cast elements but can walk through fire unharmed."
"That's terrifying in a duel," Callen muttered.
"Still," Delia whispered, "for most of us, E-rank is the first real test. Not just of power, but of identity. It's the moment your mana chooses you."
Her words echoed in the silence that followed.
And before us, the Tower of Mages loomed—its gates aglow, humming with raw energy. This was where cores would awaken. Where destinies would be shaped. Where the world would begin to see us not as students, but as magicians.
And as I stood in the formation chamber, the weight of the moment pressing in from all sides, I realised—
This wasn't training.
This was the real thing.
And I had been ready for a long time.
They all dreamed of awakening a Grade 4 or Grade 5 core. Grade 4 meant genius. Grade 7 was monstrous. Above that?
Legends.
No one dared dream of a Grade 10.
Because it wasn't supposed to exist.
Each grade reflected how well one could control mana. Ten cycles for Grade 1. Twenty for Grade 2. Each ten percent more control meant stronger spells, faster shaping, and better endurance.
Grade 5 meant battle-ready control. Grade 7 meant mastery in motion. Grade 9? Near-perfect use of every drop of mana.
Grade 10?
It meant complete mastery. Absolute control. No waste. No delay. No mistakes.
And now, in this ancient place, where mana flowed like breath and the very air trembled with possibility…
I would awaken.