On the fifth day, after a quiet breakfast, the group began preparing to leave. Andrew busied himself with loading supplies into the carriage, while Rick and Mark went to fetch water. Kai, Rony, and May lingered near the tents, speaking in low voices.
"Do you think something happened?" May asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
"What do you mean?" Rony replied, puzzled.
"It's Andrew," May whispered. "He's been unusually quiet since morning. Normally, he'd be arguing with Kai about something by now. But today… nothing."
Rony thought about it. "Now that you mention it, it is strange. Andrew's never this silent."
Before May could continue, Kai interrupted gently. "Can't you do your work quietly. "
Even so, Rony and May exchanged uneasy glances. It wasn't like Andrew at all, and the silence weighed heavily on the group.
By the time they finished packing and resumed their journey, the air inside the carriage was thick with unspoken tension. Rick and Andrew barely said a word. May, unable to stand the silence any longer, leaned toward Rick and whispered, "Did something happen between you and Andrew last night?"
Rick opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Mark's voice rang from the front. "Enemies ahead!"
The announcement froze everyone. Instinctively, hands reached for weapons. Andrew raised his hand firmly. "Let me handle this." His sudden authority caught them off guard—this wasn't the same Andrew they knew.
"This isn't the time to be playing around," Rony muttered, his voice tight with worry.
But before anyone could respond, Kai lifted his hand, eyes fixed on Mark. "Tell me," he demanded, "what is the estimated rank of monster. "
"Judging by their mana," Mark said after a moment, his eyes narrowing on the distant figures, "I'd say they're around C-rank."
"C-rank, huh?" Kai muttered. "In that case, Andrew, you can handle it."
Everyone turned sharply toward him.
"Wait!" May protested. "Even if they're only C-rank, something unexpected could happen. We should all—"
Andrew cut her off with a confident laugh. "Relax. It's not like I'm going to die out there. I'm B-rank. This will be over before you know it." His tone carried a sharp edge, dismissive yet calm.
Kai smirked. "All the more reason to let him go. He can manage alone."
May clenched her fists in frustration, but Andrew had already stepped down from the carriage. He glanced back once. "Rick, come with me. There's something I want to show you."
The others exchanged uneasy looks, but none spoke. With that, Andrew and Rick moved toward the threat while the rest stayed behind.
As they walked, Andrew asked quietly, "How far are they?"
"About three hundred meters out," Mark called from the driver's seat. "Heading straight for us. Judging from their movement, they must have sensed your mana."
Andrew's expression hardened. "Good. Then they'll come straight to me."
He drew his sword, and in that instant, something remarkable happened. The blade began to glow faintly, sheathed in a shimmering aura that pulsed with raw energy.
Rick's eyes widened. "What… is that?" He had never seen anything like it.
Mark's voice carried a hushed awe. "That's aura manifestation. The realm where one fuses mana with object itself."
From the carriage, May pressed against the window, her breath caught. "An aura blade… Andrew actually manifested one…"
Kai and Rony exchanged a glance. Even they looked unsettled.
"I can't believe he's showing his aura blade to someone else," Rony muttered, half in disbelief.
"Yeah," May whispered, trembling. "I'm shocked too."
But Kai only smiled faintly—like a man reunited with an old friend after many years.
The monsters closed in fast. C-rank creatures, grotesque and snarling, charged with murderous intent. Andrew stepped forward calmly, his blade glowing with that otherworldly aura.
"Stay back," he ordered Rick without even glancing at him.
Before Rick could protest, Andrew moved.
His body blurred, faster than Rick's eyes could follow. The first monster lunged—and in an instant, its body was split apart, blood spraying across the grass. Another fell, and another. To Rick, it was chaos, a storm of steel and flesh. He could barely comprehend what was happening—only that every swing of Andrew's blade carved through their enemies with terrifying ease.
Within moments, silence returned. The ground was littered with corpses.
Rick stood frozen, his heart pounding in disbelief. I couldn't even see half his movements…
From the carriage, the merchants who had hired them peered out with wide eyes. One whispered, "Such strength…"
Another murmured, awestruck, "So this is the level of an aura master. Fascinating."
Andrew sheathed his sword and turned back to Rick, his expression calm, almost casual—as though the massacre hadn't even winded him.
"I know you couldn't keep up," Andrew said bluntly. "But that's exactly why I wanted you to watch. This is the level you need to reach if you want to survive out here. To stand among true adventurers, you must learn to wield aura. You must step beyond the limits of ordinary mana."
Rick's eyes widened. "You mean… you'll teach me?"
A faint smile tugged at Andrew's lips. "From today onward, yes. I'll train you myself."
For a moment Rick couldn't breathe. Back in the Dukedom, no one had ever taught him properly. The soldiers only fought with crude techniques. He had always stumbled along, mimicking what he saw, never learning the true art of combat. But now… finally… someone was offering him the real path.
"I… I'll do my best," Rick stammered, excitement burning in his chest.
Andrew nodded firmly. "Good. Then don't waste this chance."
Their journey continued, the road long and dangerous. More beasts crossed their path, but none stood a chance. Sometimes Kai and Rony stepped in, but most often it was Andrew who handled the threats with calm precision, as though no enemy could truly challenge him.
And so, the fifth day of their journey came to an end.
Night had fallen, and the group gathered around the fire to share a late meal. The crackle of flames and the faint chirping of crickets filled the silence until Rick leaned forward, curiosity written all over his face.
"Andrew," he began, "earlier today, when you fought those ogres, why did you ask Mark for their positions? Couldn't you sense it yourself? You're on the same level, aren't you?"
Andrew paused, swallowing his bite before replying. "That's because he's the scout."
Rick blinked, dumbfounded. Andrew went on patiently, "In this world, a normal Aura Master can only sense mana fluctuations within fifty meters. But there are rare individuals who are born with exceptional talent. They can extend their senses much farther, even as mere externals. Mark can sense up to a hundred meters. People like him are called scouts."
Andrew's voice softened as he explained, "It isn't just scouts. Some are better at combat, others at strengthening their bodies. They take on different roles—assassins, warriors, and many more."
Rick frowned, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "So… does that mean Mark is stronger than you?"
The question caught Andrew off guard. He nearly choked on his food before managing a weak laugh. "Stronger? Where did you get that idea?"
Rick pressed, "Well, you said Mark is at the same level as you but better at sensing. Doesn't that make him stronger?"
Andrew sighed, shaking his head. Mark leaned back, smirking. "Actually, Rick, I'm not stronger than Andrew. My gift is only in sensing mana. In a fight, Andrew's power far surpasses mine."
"That's right," Rony cut in, grinning as he gnawed on a roasted bone. "Mark might be a genius at tracking, but his fighting power? Not so great."
Mark bristled. "Say that again. " He shot Rony a glare, but Rony only laughed, tossing the bone aside.
"Easy," Rony said. "No need to get worked up. I was just telling Rick how jobs work. Scouts, assassins, warriors—we all have roles."
Mark scoffed, tossing back his reply. "No one asked you to explain."
Their bickering soon turned into a playful argument, sharp words flying as naturally as sparks from the fire. No one tried to stop them. They were used to it—everyone except Rick, who still sat watching, trying to make sense of the strange, layered world he had stumbled into
The simple meal of bread and stew was a quiet comfort after the day's exertions. As they finished, the only sound was the soft clatter of wooden bowls. Rick, ever direct, broke the silence. He gestured with his chin towards the sleeping form of Mark on the far side of the camp.
"You never did tell me," Rick began, his voice low. "Why isn't he stronger than you? He seems to have a natural gift."
Andrew finished wiping his bowl clean before answering, a thoughtful pause hanging in the air. "Heavenly talent in one aspect, perhaps," he said, his tone measured. "Mark is exceptionally gifted at sensing the flow of mana. His perception is finer than anyone I've ever known. But that is only one part of the whole. In other respects—like gathering that mana and condensing it into a stable core—he is… less proficient. His unique talent demands his full focus merely to interpret the world's energy, leaving less for its practical application."
Rick absorbed this, his brow furrowed in thought. "I see," he finally replied, the pieces clicking into place. With the question settled, they quickly finished cleaning, the task done in a comfortable, shared silence.
Later, under a blanket of stars, the camp was still. Andrew kept watch, his eyes scanning the dark tree line. Rick, trying to stay awake beside him, fought a losing battle with exhaustion.
"Rick. Come here." Andrew's voice was soft but clear, cutting through the night's stillness.
Shaking off his drowsiness, Rick moved to Andrew's side. "What is it? Is something out there?" he asked, instantly alert.
"No danger," Andrew assured him. "I am going to inject a small amount of my mana into your body. I want you to close your eyes and try to feel it. Don't force it; just observe."
Upon hearing this, Rick immediately sat up straight, his weariness forgotten. "Then do it quickly," he said, his eagerness palpable.
Andrew couldn't help but smile at the younger man's quickness. "Patience is also a part of the path, Rick," he chided gently. But he complied, shifting his posture and placing a hand on Rick's shoulder. A warmth, subtle and foreign, began to seep into Rick's body—a feeling like sunlight spreading under his skin. It lasted for a minute before fading.
Andrew withdrew his hand and studied Rick's face. "Well?"
"Is that it for today?" Rick asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice as the sensation vanished.
"Yes, for now," Andrew nodded. "We will need to do this every day until you begin to sense the mana within yourself. We must find a consistent time for it, but…" Andrew trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant.
"But what?" Rick pressed, sensing his mentor's unease.
"There is a problem with your mana channels, Rick," Andrew said, his expression grave.
"You mean the pathway the mana flows through? It is… small,right?" Rick's heart sank. His worst fear was being confirmed.
"Yes, you are right," Andrew said, his voice gentle but firm. "The capacity of your channels is significantly smaller than that of an average person. It means it will take far more time and effort for you to sense and partner with the ambient mana. In other words, you have Mana-Stenosis."
The word hung in the air, heavy and final.
"It's a condition where," Andrew continued. "The channels fail to develop properly and, over time, can even grow more constricted. Judging by their current size, you've likely had this since childhood." He let out a slow, weary breath, a look of profound realization dawning on his face. "But I must confess… I never knew the deficit could be this severe."
Andrew braced himself for the blow he knew must come. To have one's deepest limitation laid so bare was a harsh thing. He expected frustration, anger, or the quiet despair of a dream deferred.
But Rick's response was none of these.
A low chuckle escaped his lips, which then broke into a firm, resolved smile. "That's not it," Rick said, his voice steady and clear.
Andrew was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"You know how in noble houses," Rick began, his gaze turning inward to a memory, "when a child is born, they immediately inject a wisp of mana to map the shape and capacity of its channels? Your future, your very worth, is decided in that first hour. Your talent is measured before you can even hold your head up." He looked directly at Andrew, his eyes holding no trace of self-pity. "I was born with channels smaller than an average person. I've known since I was old enough to understand what the whispers meant."
Seeing the shock on Andrew's face, Rick clenched his fists, not in anger, but in determination. The knuckles turned white with the strength of his conviction. Andrew opened his mouth to offer some word of consolation, but Rick interrupted him, his voice gaining strength.
"Don't be dis— I am not disappointed at all." He stated it as a simple, unshakeable fact. "If *this* was enough to disappoint me, I would have never dared to dream the dream of becoming the strongest in the first place. This…" he said, gesturing vaguely at his own body, "…this is just the starting point. It's not the finish line."
Hearing this, Andrew felt a weight lift from his own shoulders. He saw not a boy cursed with a limitation, but a man who had already made peace with his mountain and was ready to climb. A genuine, relieved smile spread across Andrew's face, the earlier worry melting away. The fire in Rick's spirit was far brighter than any constraint of his flesh.
"In that case," Andrew said, his voice brimming with newfound respect and vigor, "I also have to try harder as your teacher." He rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his trousers. "Come on, up. The mana work is done for tonight. Now, it's time for swordsmanship."
A matching grin spread across Rick's face—a fierce, eager thing. He got up without another word, the theoretical struggle of mana already forgotten in the promise of physical, tangible effort.
With that, the night's doubts came to their end, replaced by the clear, sharp ring of steel under the starlight.