The sun was setting behind the ancient Magic Tower that hails from the secluded mountains in Thorpes of the Southern Kingdom of La Magia. Constructed with a weathered stone where vines, thick and verdant the crawls in the tower walls with rune stones that faintly glow. Almost as if the tower blends in with the nature that appeared nothing but a tree, a natural camouflage.
The magic tower has existed for millennium with secrecy except for a few people who lived within the Tower. Within the ancient tower, it was filled with spell books, ancient tomes and scrolls. This showed a humble status and the scarcity of resources. Despite its ancient and mystical nature, the tower has a simple, utilitarian design, encompassing functionality over splendor.
A man resting in a chair- wrought of deep black oak, he is deeply lined and weathered face, along with his long white beard, give him a distinguished appearance despite his simple attire—a blue robe devoid of ornaments and a simple blue hat. He is Ren Restes the humble Tower Master of the Tower of Vestige.
Across from him, was a twelve years old son whom he also considered as an apprentice. His hair fell to his shoulders in dark, silken strands with sharp- flat eyes and a finely pointed nose. Atglance, one might well mistake him for a maiden of noble birth, so fair and delicate was his countenance., Cero Restes, deeply sighed as he halted his meditation, "The magic tower is doomed."
Old man Ren casually stroking his beard, "Hmm, why? This magic tower has been inherited from my ancestors, maybe one day, the world shall know our tower.
Shook his head, "That's not what I'm referring to. I am not a mage, Master; I awakened with aura core. A soon-to-be heir of the magic tower who cannot used magic will be subject to ridicule."
"I have taught you everything I knew about magic, haven't I? In fact,our butler Ronaldo don't mind you being the heir of our humble tower."
As if on cue, the old butler, Ronaldo, stepped forward from the shadows, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile. "Young master shall be a worthy tower master; I hold no doubt," he said, kneeling respectfully.
Ren pats Cero's head with a faint smile. "See? tomorrow is your formal graduation as my student, so stop worrying and continue your training, I will be on my way."
As he walked away Ren added, "Strength isn't all about magic."
After his meditation, Cero went to his training room and continued his regular training
Swoosh…Swoosh…
Huff... Huff... Cero was catching his breath as he finished his daily swordsmanship training. His body was drenched in sweat, and his muscles ached from the rigorous exercises.
On the sidelines, Ronaldo watched intently as Cero completed his training. Seeing the young master drenched in sweat, Ronaldo quickly ran towards him, carrying a towel to help him dry off. As he handed the towel to Cero, he exclaimed, "Magnificent! Young master's swordsmanship is outstanding."
"My thanks, Ronaldo."
"Why does the young Master prefer a dagger over a sword?" Ronaldo titled his head.
"I find the dagger's lightness lends itself to swift and precise strikes. It suits my style well."
Ronaldo quipped, "Oh! Your art of the assassin's path. I'm proud of you, young Master."
"Cut the crap, you are proud of almost everything I do, Ronaldo."
Cero thought to himself, 'I still cannot wield all nine forms of the Heavenly Swordsmanship Style that my father verbally taught me. At best, I can only perform two forms. My father said that the Heavenly Swordsmanship Style is a technique passed down solely to the rightful heir of the Tower of Vestige. However, there has been no practitioner of this swordsmanship since all the previous heirs were mages. Despite this, all nine forms have been theoretically preserved.'
'According to my father's lore, this swordsmanship style was originally wielded by a dragon, which my ancestors defeated, subsequently stealing the swordsmanship. This tale, however, seems more like a bedtime story. Nonetheless, the legacy of the Heavenly Swordsmanship Style remains, and I am determined to master it, even if it takes years of dedication and practice.'
***
"In shadows deep, where trust was torn,
A devil's heart, by comrade scorned.
A vow was made to enemy sworn,
In vengeance's name, a plot was born."
The Magic Tower master finds himself dancing alone with his voice lifting in verses, poetic and forlorn. He sings with no court nor company, but for one unseen- his arms outstretched as though to cradle a partner that is long departed. There is a solemn grace in his motion, and a sorrow that demands silence.
As the ornate double doors of the chamber- adorned with intricate wooden panels and iron hinges scrolled- creaked open, he faltered, much like a child caught in the act of stealing. Feigning composure, he hastened towards his master chair- wrought of deep black oak and seated himself with dignity. He sighed in relief as he is sure that his vassal hadn't seen his unusual antics.
The one who entered was no other than, Cero Restes as he spoke "Greetings, Master Ren."
"Not when we are alone. Call me Father." Ren said.
Young Cero eyed Ren, "Where's my mother?"
Ren exhaled, long and slow. He didn't start his life as a Magic Tower master. His gaze had remembered everything. Fighting the monster of the apocalypse in the frontline, witnessing his comrades and innocent people died, divorced by his wife and met Cero, who he raised like his own son. He became a wonderer and met the previous tower master of Vestige whom he became a successor.
Ren murmured, "I don't know. I picked you at the orphanage… There were many children and infants with no parents during the post-apocalyptic war. You are among the lost, so I took you in."
Being stuck in this tower with so few people, namely Ronaldo our butler, Samantha and Veronica as our tower maid, has made him a bit awkward—and honestly, I might not be much better.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"You never asked."
"I was busy training."
"So was I."
"I don't even know what's happened outside the wall of our magic tower. Everything we need is here in the tower."
With a serious tone, Ren uttered, "But prophecy revealed that the second apocalyptic end-all war is coming. Nothing is certain about when, but when it happens, Cero, you must help humanity and boost the reputation of our tower."
"Fool's divination, master. Any proof?"
"I was the one who raised you, don't asked for proof. It's written all over the scripture."
Cero was taken aback by his master's response, lowered in gaze and stayed silent. He thought to himself 'Trust over Evidence'.
I am not saying this as your Master but as your father as he slaps Cero's back and said, "You can do it, Cero." He declared.
Cero grunted in pain as he screamed "Fucking knew it."
"Without prior warning, a surge of foreign mana entered Cero's body as Ren shouted, 'In order to save the world, you must become stronger.'" Aside from the prophecy, there is an important omen that Cero cannot trust, Ren's hand on his back, an aura cultivation technique, painful, that is.
Cero had been practicing the art of aura cultivation for nearly three years, dedicating himself to the technique once every week. Over time, he had grown accustomed to the strain it placed on his body. But this time was different—this procedure was unlike any he had experienced before. It was far more intense, and far more painful.Ren, infused his own mana directly into Cero's body, forcibly refining and expanding his aura channels to allow for a greater flow of energy.
As the mana surged through him, Cero closed his eyes and concentrated as hard as he could. He needed to stay calm despite the extreme pain. The energy coursed through his veins like molten lava, scorching every nerve it touched. Despite his high tolerance for pain, the agony was nearly unbearable. He let out a strained grunt and wriggled. But Ren held him fast, gripping him by the neck and pinned him to the ground using his foot that is finely placed at Cero's head as he continuing to channel his mana without pause, he uttered, "Sweet, nice try."
Cero's body jerked violently, muscles seizing and sweat poured from his brow. Blood welled in his throat, and he coughed hard. With a curl of satisfaction, Ren added, "I think this is the limit of our aura cultivation technique, you injured well, kid."
Ren thought to himself, I increased the intensity of the mana cultivation, hoping for greater results, but there has been no progress aside from expansion of aura core since he reached two aura cores, a year ago.
Cero, still writhing, managed a breathless grin through clenched teeth. "Guh… those dance moves were something else."
Master Ren's cheek turned a shade of red, embarrassed, as he eyed Cero and screamed "Shut up, wishing for another rite?"
"Quit joking, I will beat you to pulp once I recovered." He winced.
With hurried steps, the tower maids, Samantha and Veronica, did enter the master chamber. This was no strange sight for them, for they often witnessed the young master's collapse during the sacred rites of aura cultivation technique and brought Cero to his bedroom for recovery.