Augustus (POV)
The last day of training.
Finally.
If pain were a class, I'd have awakened with an SSS-rank Ultra Masochist by now.
Actually, scratch that — with my luck stat? Probably "Cursed Masochist (E-rank)" with passive Suffer More, Learn Less.
Because, at this point, my body was a museum exhibit of bruises, my sword arm had developed PTSD, and my sense of dignity had long since filed for bankruptcy.
Elder Jack stood before us, smiling faintly like a man who took pride in other people's suffering.
"Congratulations, everyone," he said cheerfully. "You've completed your first week."
"You mean barely survived," I muttered.
He gave me a smirk.
He heard me. Of course he did. His hearing was sharper than my chances of survival.
Lenna, Alfred, and Arial stood beside me in perfect formation — disciplined, focused, terrifyingly calm.
Meanwhile, I was just trying not to just fall apart.
Jack clasped his hands behind his back. "Today," he said, "we'll cover something I deliberately avoided until now — the foundation of all energy systems: Soulforce, Mana, and Aura."
I perked up a little.
Finally. The why behind the "no magic" rule.
I'd been waiting for this.
I had all the theory memorized — runic conversion ratios, magical matrices, spell construction. I could practically write a 50-pages essay titled "Mana Management and Why I should be Allowed to Use It."
Elder Jack raised his hand, and a model of light shimmered into existence — like water caught mid-change.
Three states appeared in sequence:
One solid — a glowing crystal of blue-white ice at the core.
One liquid — a swirling pool of luminescent water encircling it.
One gaseous — mist rising around the edges, faint and ethereal.
"These," he said, "are the three natural states of energy your bodies produce: Soulforce, Mana, and Aura."
He gestured to the core — the frozen, solid light.
"This is Soulforce. The energy generated directly by your soul. It is the densest, most concentrated power within you — pure and extremely potent, but far too intense to be used freely. Think of it as a solid block of energy. It fuels everything… but it will shatter your body before it empowers it if handled directly."
He paced slowly, the glow reflecting in his eyes.
"To make it usable, it must be filtered — diluted. That process gives birth to the next form."
He motioned to the swirling pool — now rippling with soft, liquid sapphire light.
"When your soul releases Soulforce, it slowly refines into Mana. Mana is the usable form of that power — a liquid potential. It pools within your Soul Space, surrounding the Soulforce core. It's what fuels your spells, skills, and arts."
He flicked his fingers, and the pool rippled through colors — red, gold, green, silver.
"It is mutable — capable of becoming lightning, fire, water, light, even illusion. Mages and energy-type classes thrive on Mana because it is the essence of creation. It's flexible, imaginative, responsive to will."
I nodded slowly.
So far, it matched everything I'd read — except Elder Jack made it sound like we were literal walking generators with leaky pipes.
Alfred, of course, raised his hand like the honor student he secretly was.
"If Mana exists inside the soul space," he said, "then how are we able to consciously sense it, access it, and control its output with precision? Shouldn't it be… intangible?"
Jack smiled gently at him.
Unlike the smirk he gave me, this was the teacher's smile — the "excellent question" kind.
"That," he said, "is because of Aura. I'm just getting to that part, Alfred. Have patience."
He turned back to the model.
As we watched, the glowing water began to evaporate — mist forming around the edges until the liquid was surrounded by a shimmering vapor.
"This," he said, "is Aura."
His tone shifted from lecture to mysterious.
"Aura is what happens when Mana expands beyond the Soul Space — becoming gaseous, diffuse, intangible. You don't consciously create it. It leaks from you naturally as your Mana thins and overflows."
He lifted a finger.
The mist twisted into a faint humanoid silhouette that pulsed once — then vanished.
"When Aura escapes, it flows through your meridians, your blood, your muscles. It reinforces your body, sharpens your senses, amplifies your instincts. Eventually, it seeps beyond your flesh — into the air. For a time, it carries your essence — your will. Then it dissipates, merging with ambient spiritual energy."
He looked at each of us in turn.
"That essence is why Aura can be so dangerous. Unlike Mana, it's not logical. It's emotional. It responds to will, instinct, and personality."
He rested his staff against the ground.
"And that is also why, when you reach for your Mana, you instinctively know where it is. Because Your Aura, when it escapes the soul space and enters your body, It's flow and path of origin is already mapped within your subconscious."
Arial raised her hand hesitantly. "So… we've all been leaking Aura this whole time?"
Jack chuckled softly. "Yes. Even the untrained leak a small amount. But it's unfocused, scattered. True Aura control begins when you can willfully hold it, shape it, and release it without losing cohesion."
I frowned. "So… what's the catch? There's always a catch. Mana and Aura are rivals or something."
He smirked — that same evil, knowing smirk that said 'you're about to regret asking.'
Elder Jack raised both hands. In one palm, the liquid swirled; in the other, the mist coiled.
"The relationship between Mana and Aura," he said, "isn't hostile. It's just... demanding."
He let the two forms hover beside each other — glowing softly.
"Mana and Aura both come from the same source — your Soulforce. But the way you train them decides what kind of energy user you'll become."
He pointed to the glowing pool of Mana.
"If you train to expand this — your Mana pool — you'll have more energy to cast magic. You'll be able to hold huge amounts of power, shape bigger spells, and keep them going longer."
Then he pointed to the vapor — the Aura.
"But Aura doesn't care how much you have. It cares how fast you can use it. The stronger your conversion rate, the faster your Soulforce turns into usable energy. That's what lets Aura users fight longer without running dry — their flow never stops."
He clasped his hands together, then separated them again — showing how the water thickened as the mist thinned.
"Here's the problem," he said simply. "You can't grow both easily. Expanding your Mana pool eats up your aura conversation rate— it slows down. You'll have more energy, but it'll move like syrup. On the other hand, if you train conversion — make that process faster — your Mana pool stops growing. You'll burn bright, but short."
He looked directly at me.
"In short: you can either have quantity or quality. Big reserves of mana or fast output of aura. But keeping both balanced? That's costly, resource-heavy, and dangerous if done wrong."
I nodded slowly. "So, pick your poison. Giant mana pool or high-speed aura production."
Jack smiled faintly. "Exactly. And only certain classes — like Alfred's Magic Knight — can safely maintain both. But even for them, mistake in balancing there use can cause a backlash strong enough to cause long time injury."
Alfred nodded without a word, clearly used to living on the edge of control.
Elder Jack turned back to the rest of us.
"Physical fighters — swordsmen, knights, assassins — focus on Aura. They rely on constant conversion, strong flow, and instinctive bursts of energy. Mages, priests, and other casters build large Mana pools — slow but deep wells of refined power."
He rapped his staff once against the ground.
"Either path is fine. Both lead to strength. But remember: the Soul has limits. Push for both without the right balance, and you'll burn it out."
I exhaled. "So basically… train wrong, die glowing."
Jack smiled. "A poetic summary."
Wait a minute....
I groaned. Loudly. The kind of groan that carries generations of wasted effort and poor life choices.
"So basically," I said, rubbing my temples, "I spent countless sleepless nights studying magic theory, learning spell structures, memorizing rune conversion sequences—only to end up with a class that makes me a glorified aura user?!"
Elder Jack blinked once. "Yes."
"Just—'yes'?! That's it?!"
He smiled. "Yes."
Lenna's lips twitched — just barely. Which, coming from her, was basically full-blown laughter.
Alfred tried to look polite but was clearly dying out of laughter inside. Arial at least had the decency to look sympathetic.
"I could've been a mage!" I ranted. "A beautifully lazy one! Sit in the back, cast spells, look mysterious, wear a hood — the dream! But no, my class apparently thinks sweating and bleeding are more my style!"
Jack tilted his head slightly, amused. "Fate has a sense of humor."
"Fate's a sadist," I muttered.
Elder Jack crossed his arms. "Stop complaining. Aura control suits you better, anyway."
"How?"
"Because you're stubborn," he said simply. "And Aura obeys will, not logic."
"Great," I said. "So the universe looked at me, saw my talent for overthinking, and decided, 'You know what he needs? A power system that punishes logic.'"
Arial giggled softly. "At least you have a strong willpower, Master."
I pointed dramatically. "Yes! A strong willpower to learn spells & Incantations! Not get punched by magical air!"
Elder Jack chuckled — that dry, dangerous chuckle that meant he was about to turn my misery into a teaching moment.
"Then perhaps, Augustus, you'll appreciate the irony that Aura, once mastered, is more dangerous than most forms of magic."
I blinked. "...Excuse me?".