Silas gulped, hesitating a bit. But, without any second thought, he took a deep breath and kept his hand on the Mana sphere.
His palm slowly pressed against the glowing sphere of mana.
The surface felt cold at first, smooth like a glass which recently been polished. But underneath that calm shell, he could feel something that felt alive— something that was humming, waiting for energy to bite into it, so it could devour it whole.
The instructor, a tired-looking man in his mid thirties, a thick beard was on his face, stepped forward. His voice came deep. "Unleash your mana into it, slowly," he said. "Don't try to force it, or send it in one single second. Let it flow, give it a bit of time—"
A menacing grin curled up on Silas's lips. Slow wasn't his style, he wanted to do it his way.
He inhaled once, lowered his shoulders a bit—relaxing them so that he could unleash his mana, and then he let everything inside of him erupt outward through his palm.
