The First to Touch Mana

The wind that rushed through the academy's tall stone corridors that evening was laced with a sharpness Younes had never felt before—something unnatural. The very air pulsed with whispers, the sort that brushed the ear yet left no sound behind. 

He stood atop the highest tower of the Eastern Wing, gazing across the training fields below. Students sparred with mana-infused weapons, practicing drills under the fading sunlight. Some created fireballs. Others summoned gusts of wind or coated their bodies in protective aura. 

Younes, however, was still. 

He wasn't watching to observe. He was searching. 

Not for enemies. But for patterns. 

There was too much coincidence. Too much silence after his assassin encounter. No follow-up, no threat, no demands. That meant either the attacker failed a mission or had acted of their own will. 

Or worse… they were testing him. 

Behind him, a quiet voice broke the stillness. 

"You're getting too good at brooding, you know." 

Younes turned. Laila stood there, arms crossed, her robe stained with dust from her recent training session. She had grown stronger, too—her mana control now smooth, her steps lighter and faster. 

"You think I'm brooding," he said, "but I'm preparing." 

She walked over and leaned on the railing beside him. "Then prepare with company." 

For a while, neither spoke. The stars began to appear overhead, faint and pale. 

Eventually, Laila asked, "You've felt it too, haven't you? The change in the air." 

Younes nodded. "It's like the world is holding its breath." 

A shadow passed over them. They both looked up—but saw nothing. Only the moon, bloated and heavy, hanging too low in the sky. 

The next day, a council was held within the Academy's Inner Hall. 

The elders, a rare sight even for the instructors, had gathered. Their expressions were tight. Tense. News had reached them from all corners of the continent. 

Reports of beasts twisted by mana storms. 

Villages where people either awakened… or went mad. 

Islands that disappeared. 

Instructor Hafez stood beside Elder Rahman, a tall man with snowy hair and a deep scar across his cheek. "The boy's awakening was not an isolated incident," Hafez explained. "Something ancient has been stirred." 

"Mana levels are surging unnaturally," Elder Rahman said grimly. "There are places where gravity has reversed. Lakes floating in mid-air. Animals with glowing eyes and bone spikes. The balance is breaking." 

"And we still have no clue why?" one of the younger instructors asked. 

"No," said Hafez. "But Younes might." 

All heads turned. 

The elder coughed. "What do you mean?" 

"The boy didn't just awaken. He was… chosen," Hafez replied carefully. "He received a system prompt—a golden one. Something we've only seen in forbidden records." 

Murmurs filled the chamber. 

"So you believe he's the First?" 

"If not the first," Hafez said, "then one of the few who will lead the change." 

Meanwhile, Younes was summoned by a messenger hawk to a hidden chamber beneath the eastern library—an underground vault few students even knew existed. The note said: 

Come alone. Bring no weapon. – H. 

He obeyed. 

The chamber was circular, dimly lit by crystal lanterns. Instructor Hafez stood in the center, surrounded by old scrolls and diagrams scrawled with symbols of mana flow. 

"I need to show you something," Hafez said without preamble. "Something… lost to history." 

He gestured to a large stone slab. 

Etched into it was a scene: a planet split in half. Above it, a single word written in the old script—Mara'thaal. 

"The Spirit of Mana," Hafez whispered. "Said to have existed when the world was first born. It gave humanity the gift of magic—and the burden of awakening." 

Younes stepped closer, drawn to the carving. "This... isn't mythology?" 

"Not anymore. Not since you awakened." 

A pause. 

"Your awakening wasn't random," Hafez said. "The moment you absorbed the Celestial Ginseng, this slab reacted. It lit up for the first time in 900 years." 

Younes swallowed. 

"What does it mean?" 

"It means you're not just training to survive, Younes," Hafez said. "You're preparing for something no one alive has ever faced." 

That night, as Younes returned to his quarters, the academy bell tolled three times in rapid succession. 

Emergency. 

Students flooded the main courtyard. Instructors barked orders. 

Laila appeared beside him, eyes sharp. "What is it?" 

From the sky, a crack of lightning slammed into the ground just outside the northern wall, leaving a crater. 

From the smoke… something crawled out. 

A beast, taller than a house, with crystalline skin and multiple limbs. Its eyes glowed blue with raw mana. Behind it, smaller creatures skittered in its wake—mutated wolves, birds with six wings, and serpents of fire. 

A mana storm had descended. 

In the chaos, Hafez's voice boomed across the courtyard. 

"All senior students, to the front! Mana shield formations! Do not let the beasts breach the wall!" 

Younes felt his blood boil with adrenaline. He nodded to Laila. "Let's see if all that training pays off." 

They dashed into battle, energy crackling at their fingertips. 

Younes channeled wind into his legs, leaping over a creature and smashing a mana punch into its skull. Laila followed behind, creating barriers of solid air and reflecting enemy attacks. Explosions rang out, light flashed, and for the first time, Younes saw the Academy not as a place of learning—but as a fortress under siege. 

In the center of the battlefield, Younes faced the towering mana beast. 

It roared—and he roared back, summoning a spear of wind and thrusting it forward with all his might. 

The spear pierced the beast's shoulder. It howled but didn't fall. 

"Not enough," Younes muttered. He poured more mana into the next strike, channeling everything he had. 

Then… 

Boom! 

The spear detonated inside the creature. A shockwave of wind and light flattened the nearby trees and knocked several students off their feet. 

When the dust settled, the beast was gone—vaporized. 

Younes fell to one knee, panting. 

The battlefield was quiet. 

But far in the sky, unseen to all, a single golden eye opened in the clouds—watching. 

Waiting.