The air beyond the Association's gates was thick with mana, like walking into a dream half-remembered. It coiled through the trees, buzzed along the rocks, seeped from the ground itself. Here, even silence vibrated with hidden energy.
Ramon let out a low breath beside me. "This place… it's insane. It's like mana fog. I don't even have to try to draw on in."
I nodded, letting the raw density of it roll over my skin. With my blindfold off, the world shimmered in ghost-shapes and glows — outlines made of energy, not light. I couldn't see faces, only the way mana curved around forms. I couldn't see color, only how life pulsed with motion. But that was enough.
"I've never felt anything like this," I said, reaching out to trail my fingers through the air. It danced across my skin like mist, cool and electric.
We wandered deeper. The path wasn't marked — it didn't need to be. The mana itself guided us, its density shifting like gravity, drawing us where it wanted us to go. Soon the pressure lightened, replaced by warmth and an odd sense of calm.
I paused, sensing the first brush of unfamiliar auras — soft, curious, unguarded.
"Something's watching us," I murmured.
Ramon leaned closer. "They look friendly. One of them has fur that's… glowing, like embers. Another has wings but no eyes. You'd love them."
"I can feel them," I said. I knelt, letting one approach. Its outline in mana was gentle and steady, its movements light with caution. I held still. It stepped closer. Warm breath touched my fingertips, and then a soft, damp nudge against my palm. "They're not afraid."
"They're beautiful," Ramon said. "I don't think these kinds of beasts exist anywhere outside this place."
"They don't need to hide here," I said. "Not from people. Not from each other."
We kept moving, and more mana-beasts emerged — some with cores that glowed faintly in their chests, others that made harmonic clicking sounds as they walked. They felt like echoes of a world untouched by fear.
Eventually, we found a grove where the mana gathered thick as honey, clinging to everything. I sat in the grass, cross-legged, my hand pressed against the ground.
Here, the pulse of the world slowed.
Ramon joined me, breathing deep. "I could stay here forever."
"Don't," I said softly. "You'd stop growing. But we can stay dor quite a bit of time."
He chuckled, but I felt him listen.
For a couple months we came to this exact spot and meditated. The mana didn't just fill us — it moved through us, revealing things we hadn't noticed. Fractures in our channels, tightness in the flow. I shifted my core gently, adjusting, breathing into the smallest knots until the pressure faded. Our mana reserves improved a good bit from this.
We lived off of the natural food and water from the creek, inn's everywhere for hunters and explorers of the training grounds to spend nights.
After some time of going trough this routine we decided to explore a little further in, we followed the faint echo of metal striking metal — training, nearby.
"Think it's the higher-rank hunters?" Ramon asked.
I shook my head. "They don't feel as strong as us"
Sure enough, when we reached the plateau, I felt the presence of strong, active cores. Most hovered around C-rank — stable, capable. One or two felt like they might be B or even low A. My appearance caused a shift in the atmosphere — a ripple. Conversations dropped. A few stares lingered.
"S-rank," someone muttered.
I stepped forward calmly, letting my aura move out just enough to be felt. Not aggressive. Not boastful. Just real.
A C-rank hunter — solid mana, grounded stance — approached. "I heard the Association added a new S-class," she said. "Didn't expect to meet you in the shallow parts, thought you'd be deeper in already. What mage rank are originally one, two or three?"
"Around two, and you just did," I said
She laughed. "I'm not foolish enough to think I'm on your level. But I wouldn't mind seeing the gap for myself."
I raised a hand to the knot at my head and pulled the blindfold down over my eyes, sealing away even the mana outlines. Sound and presence were all I had now.
"I accept," I said, tying the cloth tight. "Just don't hold back."
Gasps rippled around us. I stepped into position, my body loose, my senses sharp. Her mana tensed — wind-based, judging by the sharp flickers in the air pressure. She was fast. But she was nervous now. That told me everything I needed.
The first strike came low — a whip of compressed wind meant to trip me. I turned, letting it pass with a slip of my foot. She shifted tactics instantly, launching a sharper burst — not just air this time, but a spiraling gust laced with fine gravel. A hybrid.
I dipped under it, feeling the whine of stones cut past my cheek.
She stepped in again, feinting left, foot pressure betraying the real movement — an overhead slash imbued with slicing wind. I angled with it, redirecting her motion, spinning her past me.
More observers gathered as we danced. One called out, "Let me try!"
A B-rank stepped in with a flowing cloak and confident stride. Water magic — I could hear it coiling already, droplets spiraling in his palm. He launched a twisting spear of pressurized water, aimed tight at my center mass.
I stepped to the side, letting it whistle past. He followed it with a wave meant to sweep my legs and distort footing. It was clever — the ground slicked over as the magic dispersed.
I didn't move. I just listened.
The moment he advanced, foot slipping slightly, I pivoted around him, placing one hand against his back and guiding him harmlessly forward with his own momentum.
More followed — an A-rank earth mage trying to trap my feet in sudden spikes. I felt the ground tense before the stone rose and simply leapt, landing silently just outside the strike zone. He grunted in frustration and tried again, raising a half-dome to trap me — I spun over it and landed lightly behind him.
One of them tried fire next — thin jets to force my path, control the field. But fire roars when it moves. It cannot be silent. I ducked, swayed, slipped through with my heartbeat unbroken.
Still blindfolded.
Still untouched.
And I never attacked. I didn't need to. Their power was real — honed, sharpened. But mine was to much for them. Always Listening.
By the time the sun dipped low and the grove was touched with orange warmth, most of the hunters had returned to their training grounds. Laughter had dulled to murmurs. Tension had settled into quiet awe.
"You handled that pretty gracefully," Ramon said, stepping up beside me. "No one's gonna call you arrogant."
"They shouldn't," I said, loosening the knot of my blindfold. "I didn't humiliate them. I just listened."
"You dodged six spells at once, Annabel."
The cloth slid off, and the soft haze of the world returned — shadows and outlines, pulses of mana, edges that shimmered when they moved. I exhaled slowly, letting it all in again.
"They were loud," I replied. "Their intent. Their movement. Their mana. Like shouting in a silent room."
Ramon chuckled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really hold back on everyone, huh, sis?"
"If I didn't," I said, turning toward the west where a sharp tremor stirred the air, "most mages not rank five or six would die from a single real attack."
There was a pause. Then he laughed again — shorter this time, like even he wasn't sure if it was funny.
"You're terrifying."
"And you're slow," I said lightly. "You still think too loud when you cast."
"Rude."
A breath passed between us. The sun dipped lower, and in the distance, the mana shifted — thin and surgical, not chaotic like beasts, not wild like nature.
Ramon went still beside me. "Did you feel that just now?"
"Yes." I angled my head, narrowing my senses. "It wasn't an accident."
"What was it?"
"I don't know." My fingers tightened on the blindfold in my hand. "But it's waiting for us