Rowan sat under a tall oak, his legs crossed atop a worn cushion, his back resting against the rough bark. The soft rustle of leaves above him and the distant chirping of birds were his only companions. His other one deciding he had better things to do than watch him sit still.

  Kai had left him to his devices over the last two days. Two days of mind-numbing boredom, interrupted only by his steady progress.

  He smiled to himself, giddy despite the monotony.

  All that much closer to getting a second affinity.

  For someone starved of magic for so long, finally wielding it felt intoxicating. Like a child with a new toy, he was reluctant to put it down.

  He’d already decided on Wind.

  Fire, his first affinity, provided all the offense he needed for now. It was raw power, destructive and unyielding—a perfect sword. What he needed next was a shield.

  Wind, Earth, and Water could all fit that role in different ways, but the latter two relied on barriers—reactive defenses like [Earthen Dome] or [Swirling Vortex]. Rowan didn’t want to be stuck in one place, hiding behind walls.

  A mage needed speed to survive, and Wind offered just that. Movement abilities like [Windwalk] and [Tailwind] would let him control the battlefield, positioning himself where his spells would be most effective.

  That was why he’d invested so heavily in Dexterity. Most mages funneled everything into Intelligence and Willpower to boost their mana pool and recovery, but Rowan’s stats were naturally higher.

  His heritage wasn’t just for show. Being descended from a long line of very powerful people left its mark.

  His stats were more than three times higher than average. And while that didn’t make all that much difference in the grand scheme of things, at his level, it was a major boon.

  Twenty-five Dexterity for a mage of his advancement was absurd, and Wind would allow him to push that advantage further, letting him outpace warriors at Iron, and even challenge Silver-ranks.

  After what happened in the cave, that was a comfort he wanted to have.

  Even at full strength, Rowan wasn’t sure he’d have been able to handle Killian. Having Wind’s mobility would go a long way towards changing that.

  And it wasn’t just Wind’s immediate usefulness that drew him in. Rowan was thinking ahead—to the tier-two affinity it would let him pursue: Lightning.

  It wasn’t a widespread school of magic. Few could afford the cost, whether in mana, coin, or personal risk. Lighting was quick, unpredictable, and lethally powerful—a combination that had claimed more than a few reckless mages.

  It was exactly what Rowan needed.

  Mastering [Fireball] would take care of raw power for now, but Wind would cover speed. If someone—or something—like Killian got close during a real fight, Rowan would be ready.

  He sighed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Dwelling on that had the tendency to put him in a foul mood. But for what he was doing, he needed focus.

  The sunlight filtering through the branches above cast shifting shadows on his face, soothing in their simplicity. Rowan adjusted his position against the tree, his cushion softening the rough edges of hours spent sitting on it.

  Looking inward, he followed the flow of his channels as they twisted and turned throughout his body, all leading to a spot just below his stomach.

  In his mind’s eye, his Core burned with a soft red glow—a definite improvement over where it had been when he started, but still far from Orange.

  Alright. Let’s get started, he thought, focusing his Intent. Willing his Core to grow.

  The familiar pressure settled over him like an invisible weight, but it passed almost instantly.

  Rowan smiled.

  His Trait allowed him to do something no other mage could.

  Advance, seemingly endlessly. The soul strain that stopped others not affecting him in the slightest.

  Most mages advanced their Core in slow, steady increments. Half an hour a day of focused meditation was considered safe, and an hour, manageable. Rowan was doing twenty. A schedule that would have been suicidal for anyone but him.

  His [Immortal Soul] took the stress in stride, barely acknowledging it.

  In theory, he could have advanced within a month if he’d committed entirely. But that would have meant no time to master spells, and while Core growth was crucial, spells were far more practical—and infinitely more fun.

  Not to mention that after just two days of intense focus, Rowan was already feeling the effects.

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  Not physically. Twenty Vitality made it so that forty hours of sitting didn’t make him exhausted, but mentally, he was drained. The excitement of seeing his Core grow wore off after a few hours, replaced by the sheer monotony of the task.

  He pushed forward anyways.

  Grow, Rowan thought, willing his Core to expand.

  The response was almost imperceptible, a tiny shift in the red light that flickered in his mind’s eye. Barely noticeable.

  But it was progress. A thousand more of those and he would be done for the day.

  Grow.

  Again, his Core responded, straining against his Intent before yielding.

  The outside world began to fade away—the rustle of leaves, the warmth of the sun, even the faint ache in his legs. All of it took a step back in favor of the faint pulsing emanating from within him.

  .

  .

  .

  As the sun slowly began to set, Rowan heard a knock on his door.

  He blinked open his eyes. Wiping away the drowsiness that had set in. His muscles protested as he stood up, cracking his spine and neck with a low groan.

  Thank the Gods, he thought, grateful to whoever it was that came to distract him.

  Right now, he wouldn’t have minded if Killian had come to visit. At least that would have been interesting.

  Three percent seemed like such a small reward for the work he’d put in, but Rowan couldn’t complain. Others would kill to be capable of progressing this fast.

  Looking around, he tried to find his familiar.

  Kai came and went a dozen times over the last few hours. Most likely terrorizing his neighbors or stealing from those unfortunate enough to leave their meals unattended.

  Not seeing him, Rowan ran a hand across his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles.

  Just because I feel slightly manic doesn't mean I have to look it.

  Another knock. This one more incessant.

  Walking inside, Rowan made his way to the door and opened it.

  “Took you long enough,” Annie muttered, a frustrated scowl on her face.

  Rowan rolled his eyes. “It’s nice to see you too.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off, making herself at home. Moving to the living room and sitting in his chair. “We have a problem.”

  Rowan frowned, sitting opposite her. “What kind of problem?”

  She sighed, running a hand through her blood-red hair. “Someone at the Guild saw you turning in the Core. Killian found out, and he isn’t happy.”

  “Did he try anything?” Rowan asked, his expression hardening.

  Two days I’m gone, and there’s already another problem.

  He hoped it wasn’t anything serious. More for the Silver-rank’s case than his own. If he’d hurt one of his friends, Rowan wasn’t opposed to waiting for him in the Wilds. Strong or not, a surprise [Fireball] would quickly deal with the problem.

  “He didn’t try to fight us, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s not that much of an idiot,” Annie said, a smile tugging on her lips. “But he came over to our table last night. Said he wants his share. Plus another ten percent for quote, ‘Being dishonest’.”

  Rowan clenched his fist. “I’m really hoping you didn’t give it to him.”

  What happened had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and the fact that it was normal and accepted here didn’t make it any sweeter.

  They already gave him a tidy sum for what was essentially nothing. And if he wanted more, Rowan would have something to say about it.

  “As if.” Annie snorted. “Nemir told him to fuck off.”

  Rowan chuckled, glad that his team thought the same. “I’m guessing he didn’t use that exact turn of phrase?”

  “He might have been a bit more polite,” she smirked. “But he got the point across.”

  “Alright,” Rowan nodded, already thinking about the implications. “How big of a problem is this going to be? Is there anything he can actually do?”

  She shook her head. “In the city? No, not really.”

  “And outside of it?” Rowan asked.

  Annie glanced at him. “The Wilds are an unpredictable place. It wouldn’t be the first time a team didn’t return from a quest.”

  “Yeah, but would he actually do that? He seemed more opportunistic than anything else. And attacking us seems like a big risk for what’s essentially a few gold.”

  “He would. If the reward was big enough,” she said, shooting a poignant look towards his ring.

  Rowan grimaced.

  He closed his eyes, thinking about how to play this.

  Advancing is still the priority. Now more than ever. But even with my [Trait] doing some heavy lifting, that’s still four days away. And I don’t like the thought of my team getting harassed by a greedy Silver-rank in the meantime.

  He came to a decision. One that should hopefully, if not deal with the problem, postpone it.

  “Tell him it was my kill,” Rowan said. “That should get him off your back.”

  Annie’s brows furrowed in displeasure. “And what does that do besides point him at you?”

  “Nothing,” Rowan shrugged. “But it’s going to give him a target. One that doesn't have any plans on showing itself for a few more days.”

  Annie looked him over, noticing the bags under his eyes. “What are you up to?” she asked, leaning forward.

  Rowan smiled. “I’m working on something.”

  “I hate surprises,” she said, poking him in the side. “Spill.”

  He laughed, slapping her hand away. “You’ll find out soon enough. Have some patience.”

  Annie didn’t seem to like that, but before she could voice her displeasure, Rowan stood up. He made his way to the kitchen, taking two glasses and a bottle of barely palatable rum.

  His Core would still be waiting for him tomorrow. Right now, some pleasant company was exactly what he needed. And with the way things were shaping up, it would be the last bit of fun he’d have for the next few days.

  .

  .

  .

  The next four days were an exercise in repetition. He pushed away the frustration he felt from Killian’s extortion attempt and the concern that came with having a Silver-rank harassing his friends.

  There was only one thing that mattered, and that was advancing his Core.

  The soft red glow had shifted into a rich orange, just a hair’s breadth away from his goal.

  It was a heady feeling. Standing on the edge of his next step. Poised to progress on his path.

  His reserves had grown in tandem with his progression. Making him that much stronger than before. But the increase in mana wasn’t what Rowan was after, even if it was a nice bonus.

  Closing his eyes, he delved deep into himself for hopefully the last time in a while, his focus drawn to the radiant orb at his center.

  So close. He grinned.

  The thought of finally being done spurred him on. Rowan sharpened his Intent, pressing it into his Core.

  Grow, he intoned, a pressure building from within.

  Unlike before, a sharp pain shot through his body. Starting from his feet and blitzing its way all the way to the top of his head. Rowan stiffened, a low hiss escaping his lips.

  He hadn’t been certain what to expect.

  Rowan had read about advancement and the challenges that came with it.

  It was just that most of those didn’t apply to him.

  A shudder went through his Core, cracks forming as his Intent forced it to expand. It was a pain unlike any he’d experienced before. Not in its intensity, but in its weight. Like his very being was being attacked.

  Rowan gritted his teeth, pushing through it.

  He didn’t know everything that having an [Immortal Soul] entailed. It certainly sounded grand, but Rowan had never really put it to the test.

  Until now.

  More cracks formed, and just as the pain was reaching its crescendo, a faint hum went through his body. It chased away the searing agony like mist being blown away by a soft wind. Leaving nothing but a sense of accomplishment in its wake. The cracks started sealing shut, his Core pushing away the last vestiges of its soft red glow in favor of a pure Orange.

  The System acknowledged his efforts.

  A wide grin spread across Rowan’s face as he read the notifications.

  The tension he’d accumulated over the last week bled away. His muscles relaxed, a soft, giddy laugh tearing its way out his throat.

  “I did it,” he muttered, opening his eyes.

  The smart thing to do would be to let his mind and body rest. This last week had drained him, in more ways than one. But exhaustion wouldn’t stop him. Not now.

  It was time to learn some Wind magic.