The Life of a Battlemage

For more than a year, Nala had trained Rifi relentlessly, hiding his pain beneath his gruff demeanor. Only small, fleeting glimpses of discomfort ever escaped his control, but Rifi noticed them. Over time, those moments became more frequent. Rifi knew what that meant. His master was nearing his end.

One morning, after waking from another restless, nightmare-filled sleep, Rifi found himself alone in the cave.

"No… This can't be happening!"

Even though Rifi had been preparing himself for this day, knowing it would come sooner or later, the shock was overwhelming. No matter how much you ready yourself for such a moment, no amount of forethought could soften the blow of losing someone you hold dear. A suffocating panic surged through him, the disbelief stinging his heart.

He searched the entire cave, frantic, desperate. He looked everywhere—in the pond, in the corners, hoping against hope to find Nala resting somewhere. But there was nothing. His master was gone. Tears streamed down Rifi's face, blurring his vision as he retraced his steps to the mana vein, falling to his knees, lost in despair.

Wiping his tear-streaked eyes, Rifi noticed something—a single cat whisker resting on the spot where Nala's head used to lay. Trembling, he reached for it and, as his fingers curled around the whisker, a familiar voice resonated in his mind.

"My silly disciple," Nala's voice spoke softly, comforting, yet distant. "My race was never good at goodbyes, so I shall stay true to our traditions. I chose to face my final hours in solitude. But remember, on you rests the fate of your world and my family's last wish. I have left a small spirit imprint in this whisker. I hope you keep it as a reminder of me. Whenever someone touches it, the name of my family shall echo through them. Felis Silvestris."

Rifi's heart clenched as he knelt in silence, clutching the whisker against his chest. His voice was barely a whisper, filled with sorrow, yet laced with determination, "Of course, Master… your family's name won't be forgotten for as long as I draw breath."

He placed the whisker inside the pocket of his shirt, close to his heart, where it would remain safe. His grief weighed heavily on him, but in the midst of it, his resolve solidified. This was another promise—a promise that would join the others in the long chain of oaths that guided his every step.

For the rest of the day, Rifi couldn't focus. His mind wandered through memories of his master, his family, and the friends he had lost. It was a day of mourning, not just for Nala, but for all those who had passed from his life. He allowed himself the space to grieve, knowing it would be dangerous to indulge in his sadness for too long. Nala had protected the cave with his soul space, but now, with him gone, the cave was exposed. Any wandering Devil could stumble upon it and find the mana vein, though it was nearly dried up.

A week ago, Rifi had broken through to mid-stage Red core. In just three years since his awakening, his cultivation speed was unmatched by anyone in the city-state of Hepestus. Maybe some of the most talented mages from the main clans could match his progress, but Rifi was eager to see that for himself. He was excited to return to his home city, but also anxious to test his strength against the powerful mages he had heard about.

Despite his rapid progress, Rifi knew that cultivation speed wasn't everything. What mattered more was the ability to break through the bottleneck at higher ranks. If a mage couldn't break through, they would be trapped at the limits of their core's capacity, unable to gather more mana.

The mana vein that had nurtured him for so long was now almost depleted. It had never been a large vein, to begin with, and Nala's constant need for mana had gradually drained it. Rifi's own advancement had only accelerated the process. There was enough left to sustain him for a few more months if he needed it, but the time had come to leave the cave.

Still, leaving wasn't easy. This cave had been his home for over a year, the place where he had grown stronger, where he had been shaped into the warrior he was now. But with Nala gone, there was no reason to stay.

Rifi gathered his few belongings—just the clothes on his back and six mana stones he had refilled. There was nothing else to take. As he was about to leave, he considered taking a few fish for the road but quickly shook his head in disgust.

What am I thinking? he grimaced. I can finally eat something other than fish! Even dirt probably tastes better than those damn fish!

Shaking off the absurd thought, Rifi made his way to the entrance of the cave. As he stepped outside, his eyes watered from the harsh sunlight, after so long spent in darkness. He blinked, adjusting to the brightness. The world outside seemed impossibly vibrant—the green of the grass, the leaves of the trees—it all felt new again.

Once his vision returned, he turned back toward the cave. With a series of quick, powerful punches, he collapsed the entrance, sealing it shut. He didn't want anyone to find the cave, at least not yet. There was a sentimental value in this place, a hope that one day, if needed, he might return.

Rifi sighed and then infused his legs with both elemental and non-elemental mana, setting off toward the south, back to Hepestus. He ran at a steady pace, moving effortlessly through the landscape. It wasn't long before he reached the northern border, where he had once stood as a newly recruited legionary.

Thanks to his enhanced eyesight and his lightning technique, he could see them—fellow legionaries standing guard. He could also feel them. Under Nala's guidance, Rifi had developed a technique to sense other mages and living beings by releasing trace amounts of elemental mana into his surroundings. Every element reacted differently, so no two techniques were the same, but the principle remained universal: leak a small amount of mana and gauge how it interacted with the world around you.

Rifi's lightning mana was particularly suited to this. The resistance it encountered while passing through objects allowed him to distinguish between living and non-living things, giving him a radius of two kilometers to detect others. His control over his mana had become so refined that he could leak it at a level nearly indistinguishable from ambient atmospheric mana, making it difficult for others to detect him.

With that, sneaking past the border guards was almost laughably easy. He jumped high over them, moving with such speed that the most they would feel was a slight breeze. It was the last thing he wanted—to be noticed. Right now, his priority was to slip into the city, assess the situation, and find his old friends, Rudeus and Lucilia.

As he ran, the wind whipping through his hair, excitement welled up inside him. It had been so long since he had seen them. Were they okay? How had they fared in his absence?

But alongside the excitement was a quiet sense of purpose. He had been training for this moment, preparing to face what was coming. Now, it was time to return to Hepestus and begin the next phase of his journey.