The First to Touch Mana

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the cracks in the wooden hut, casting golden patterns on the floor. Younes stirred from his sleep, groaning as sore muscles protested. His body felt like it had been crushed by a mountain—and yet, beneath the pain, there was something new. 

Power. 

He sat up slowly, stretching his arms as mana surged gently through his veins like a second bloodstream. No longer elusive or faint, it responded to his will—calm, steady, almost eager. It was like breathing a richer air. He formed another small orb of energy in his hand. This time it didn't flicker or fade. It hovered, stable and obedient. 

"I've really crossed the threshold," he murmured. 

After finishing a sparse meal, he stood outside the hut, gazing at the morning mist rising off the forest. Birds chirped in the distance, and mana shimmered faintly in the air. The Third Mountain no longer felt as threatening. He had survived it. Conquered it, even. 

But he knew he couldn't stay long. 

His return to the Academy was necessary—not just to report his success, but because the world wouldn't stop while he trained. He had felt something strange during his meditation last night. A distant pressure. Like a presence watching the earth from afar. 

He dismissed the thought and set off down the mountain trail. 

Three days passed. 

Younes finally stood once more before the massive gates of the Eastwind Mana Academy. The guards blinked in surprise when they saw him—tattered, tired, but very much alive. 

"You came back?" one of them asked. "We thought you were dead, kid." 

Younes just smiled and held up a small vial containing a crushed remnant of the Celestial Ginseng. "Far from it." 

Word of his return spread quickly through the academy. By sunset, instructors, students, and even a few elders had heard the tale. Most dismissed it as an exaggeration. Others, however, sensed a change in the boy. 

Instructor Hafez, who had given Younes the mission, summoned him the next morning. 

"You retrieved the Ginseng?" the older man asked, raising a thick gray brow. 

Younes placed the empty root on the table between them. "Used it. Fully absorbed. I've reached the Mana Initiate stage." 

Instructor Hafez stared for a long moment. Then he nodded. "Sit." 

Younes obeyed, and the instructor pressed two fingers to his wrist. A flicker of mana passed between them, and Hafez's eyes widened. 

"Forty-five years' worth of internal chi," he muttered. "Unbelievable. From a single Ginseng…" 

He stood and walked to the window. "You've done well. Better than expected. But power draws attention, Younes. Not all of it friendly." 

Younes didn't flinch. "Let them come. I won't stop." 

"Good," Hafez replied with a slight smile. "Because from this day forward, your life will no longer be peaceful." 

Days turned to weeks. 

Younes threw himself into training. His control over mana grew steadily—he could now form shields of energy, send bursts of force through his strikes, and even manipulate elements slightly. He was strongest with wind, able to create small currents to enhance his speed and agility. 

But he was not the only one improving. 

A young noble named Kamil had risen to popularity among the senior students. With a wealthy family behind him, elite tutors, and a powerful bloodline ability—Shadow Claws—he saw Younes's sudden fame as a challenge. 

"He's a nobody," Kamil sneered one afternoon in the courtyard. "Just some forest brat with a lucky find." 

Younes didn't respond to the taunt. He had no time for petty egos. 

But Kamil wasn't the only threat. 

One night, while meditating in the garden, Younes sensed a presence—cold, hostile. Before he could act, a blade of energy sliced through the air beside him, missing his head by inches. He rolled to the side and summoned a mana shield just in time to deflect a second strike. 

A masked figure stood before him, cloak billowing, mana crackling. 

"Who sent you?" Younes demanded. 

The assassin didn't answer. A duel erupted—fast, brutal, and filled with sparks of mana. Younes took several hits but held his ground, forcing the attacker to retreat after a drawn-out battle. The academy guards arrived too late. 

That night, Younes realized: someone wanted him dead. 

Not because of jealousy. But fear. 

Meanwhile, in a place far from the Academy—beneath the crust of the Earth, in a cavern lit by pulsating crystals—a figure knelt before a pool of liquid mana. 

The pool shimmered, forming an image: Younes, standing in the forest, holding the Celestial Ginseng. 

"So... the first awakener appears," the figure whispered. "Fate truly begins to stir." 

Behind him stood others—shrouded figures in cloaks embroidered with glowing runes. One of them spoke, voice distorted. 

"Should we intervene?" 

"Not yet," the leader replied. "Let the world shift first. Let the trials begin. When the Mana Spirit descends, then we shall act." 

Back at the academy, Younes stood on the training field at dusk, shirt soaked in sweat. He had pushed his body to the edge again, determined to strengthen his defenses, his casting speed, and his instincts. 

Instructor Hafez approached, arms crossed. 

"You're improving fast." 

"I have to," Younes replied. "I can feel something coming. Something big." 

Hafez nodded solemnly. "You're not wrong. Strange mana fluctuations have been reported worldwide. Wild beasts are mutating. Storms appear out of nowhere. Something ancient is waking up." 

Younes clenched his fists. "Then I need to be ready." 

He turned back toward the field and summoned wind around him, sprinting forward into another round of training. 

Above him, the sky darkened—not with clouds, but with energy. A distant crackle echoed across the heavens, too faint for most to notice. 

But for those sensitive to mana... 

It had already begun.