The remaining journey through the widely feared and equally fabled Grimhallow Forest passed by Lucan’s entourage uneventfully, though he found his focus constantly drifting throughout the journey and that left him unable to meditate upon the memory bank that Silvas Anderle had left him.

  Of course, the fact that Lucan felt his throat was parched and he would do just about anything for a warm, fragrant beverage to reinvigorate his tastebuds and make his problems go away for a bit might have also had a role to play there, but that was just digressing.

  Otherwise, he couldn’t stop thinking about the battle he had witnessed— an insignificant one, by all means, but one that he, Lucan Velmoria, had witnessed with his own eyes instead of Silvas Anderle. T

  he calm with which Daven Caravine had carved through the Ironhide Boar’s rock carapace had completely changed his impression of Aura Knights, who most mages believed to be inferior to themselves. After all, it was not knights who built complex formation spells that enabled trade across the deadliest forest in the Kingdom and in the end, be it versatility, range, sheer destructive potential or even artifact research and development, mages were considered to be superior by far and in the case of artifact research and enchantment development, it was a field solely governed by mages.

  Yet, what did any of that matter if a Knight could move with a speed that surpassed the mage’s cognition? If the mage was not prepared for battle, he would undoubtedly die. Lucan had seen Daven Caravine in action, a man whose existence had no impact on the war that was to come. So just how far beyond him was Silvas Anderle, the one who stood at the apex of all Aura Knights?

  If just mastering one Aspect could grant Daven Caravine the ability to carve through rock like a hot knife through butter, then what could the inheritance contained within his memories unlock?

  Lucan did not thirst for power the same way Silvas Anderle had, that much he was certain of. The path of an Aura Knight did not suit him, either. To him, power was a means to an end, a tool that he needed to learn how to wield if he wished to protect the darkness from claiming what belonged to him, whereas for Silvas Anderle, the mere pursuit alone had been the reward.

  And in the end, ironically enough, their destination was one and the same since Lucan needed a way to access even a fraction of the knowledge contained in Silvas Anderle’s memories.

  Lucan was certain that he’d witnessed the Ironhide Boars utilize a rune to cast what mages call a natural spell. Surely they were aware of the overlap between how mana beasts utilized spells and how runeweaver shamans used runes to become a powerhouse of the central region of the continent, or Elysara as it was called in the ancient tongue. Yet mages did not seem particularly interested in studying the nature of mana beasts for their runes and neither was it a subject taught in the academy, as far as Lucan was aware.

  Why?

  Aura Knights honed their bodies to the extreme, but the Iron-Blooded Berserker’s Body Cultivation Art used runes to forge his body into a weapon in and of itself. A fire attuned evocation spell could not burn through his flesh and a longblade was merely a stick to him, one that could be snapped in half with his bare hands. There were physical augmentation spells that allowed a mage to be capable of such feats, but those required active focus to maintain and were a constant resource on a mage’s mana pool.

  There was something in this connection that could lead Lucan closer to his goal, or at least that’s what his instincts told him. How much he could trust those instincts were another matter entirely.

  They passed through smaller towns as they made their way into the central region of the Nostura Kingdom. It was only in passing observation that Lucan noted the differences in architecture between the settlements here, if only because of the contrast when placed in juxtaposition to the ones he had grown up around.

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  Northern architecture had its roots in necessity and practicality, as thick walls that were dense enough to withstand the snowstorms and biting cold winds that descended from the mountain trails where the runeweaver shamans lived, with pitched roofs and narrow windows to keep the heat inside.

  Even in Lingdon, only a fraction of the population could afford a heating artifact and it was far more common for the commoners to rely on more traditional ways to keep themselves warm. This phenomenon was even witnessed in the choice of colors, as what Lucan considered to be subtly elegant colors were chosen for the cottages, like terracotta or fog gray while the larger tenements that were usually multiple stories tall and had multiple small flats that could be rented by less wealthier families, were painted in one of the colors of House Velmoria, since they were almost always commissioned by their grace and later sold to private buyers for them to oversee rentals and management under certain rules set by the Duke.

  The central towns were so vibrant in comparison, that it almost felt like the territory of a different kingdom. It seemed like the chilly winds of the North had not been able to cross the Grimhallow Forest and touch the central towns, for even the smaller border towns that couldn’t house more than a few thousand at best, defended by tall, smooth white stone walls that had clearly been raised with the aid of magic, where mages and Aura Knights watched over the towns from battlements, watchtowers and bridges erected in a circular perimeter around the towns.

  Two reinforced metal gates served as the only entry and exit from the town, and had opted for an architectural style that was spread out and sprawling outwards instead of being huddled together for warmth.

  The streets were wider, encouraging people to go out instead of remaining huddled in their homes, their walls having no dearth of windows since they had never known to fear the cold and there were even vendors pushing wheel carts laden with produce, hawking their wares as they went from neighbourhood to neighbourhood of cottages with delightful little fenced gardens, that while not even being close to even the poorest Noble’s estate, were still a luxury. The colors were lighter and too many in hues to keep track of, their vividness only accentuated by ample sunlight caressing their surfaces instead of being obscured by heavy cloud cover.

  The markets that Lucan saw generally concentrated near the middle of the town square, just a short distance away from the town hall and the healer’s union and the further Lucan got from the border, it seemed like the more packed the town market was.

  He’d only gotten a few minutes as his carriage passed by the populace, but even that was enough to assess that the sheer variety of everything, from clothes that came in a few dozen styles, most being unfamiliar to Lucan, and too many hues to keep track of, to jewellry that went from familiar to entirely and unfashionably alien, to even longblades that came curved, serrated and one that was even wavy in pattern and even one stall that outright sold mana stones by the handful.

  The centre was truly where the four cardinal directions met, it seemed, as the sheer variety of both goods and culture on display was too wide to belong to any one part of the kingdom. The commoners feared neither the cold nor the threat of foreign warriors wielding odd magics coming crashing down upon them from their mountainous dwelling, shielded from all of it due to generations of sacrifice by his father’s family and ironically enough, the north still dealt with more mana beast tides than the center even though the Grimhallow Forest bordered both regions.

  After crossing the final town on the way to their destination, on the fourteenth, or was it the fifteenth day of their journey, on a well-paved cobblestone road that led to Thesali, did Lucan’s nervous anticipation finally peak.

  He turned his gaze outside the carriage’s window, only to be confronted by an endless sea of golden wheat that was only punctuated by farmhouses in the distance and irrigation channels that carried sparkling water from a nearby river.

  “Seven tenths of the kingdom’s grain comes from the center’s plains,” Janis, who almost never spoke unless spoken to first, offered unprompted. “The Royal Family also has the best agricultural mages from the Imperial Academy under their direct employ. The North might be powerful, but in the end it is by His Majesty’s grace that we can meet our territory’s provision requirements adequately.”

  While Lucan had known that the north imported a decent chunk of its food, he had no idea that the centre had such a stranglehold on the kingdom’s production. Without’s the North shielding them, the centre would be overrun, but without the center’s grain, it seemed that the North would starve— if Lucan was understanding Janis’ meaning correctly.

  “It’s so beautiful,” The words escaped Mira’s lips in a whisper, as her head peeked out past Lucan’s shoulder to get a better look from his side.

  It really was, but all Lucan could think about was the academy.

  A few hours later, Janis declared, “You should be able to see it now.”

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