Years had passed since Elshua began his training under Pope Seraphius IV, and the Holy Palace of Lumora had become a forge for his soul.
The city's spires gleamed under the midday sun, their marble etched with golden runes, a testament to Aeloria's light that pulsed through every stone.
Elshua, now fourteen, stood in the basilica's training hall, a vaulted chamber of pale marble and soaring arches, its walls engraved with runes of protection that shimmered faintly.
The air was cool, scented with incense and wax, and sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, casting mosaics of color across the floor.
His cream-colored robe, tailored to his slightly stronger frame, swayed as he moved, his golden hair tied back, his bare feet steady on the polished stone.
His body, once frail from the quarry's toll, had grown lean and resilient, though not yet at its peak, his muscles honed by daily sparring and walks in the palace gardens.
His divine energy, now at 92%, was a radiant torrent, a far cry from the flicker it had been, though the healers' slow treatments continued, ensuring his pure, Aeloria-blessed power didn't overwhelm his still-mending form.
Elshua's training with Seraphius had transformed him. The Pope, with his flowing white beard and sharp hawk's eyes, was a relentless yet kind mentor, blending theology, magic, and combat into lessons that pushed Elshua's limits.
Mornings began with meditations, Seraphius's chants resonating like a divine chord, teaching Elshua to channel his energy with precision.
Afternoons were spent in the library, poring over ancient texts on Aeloria's miracles, or in the training hall, where wooden staves clacked in slow, deliberate spars, building Elshua's strength and reflexes.
Evenings brought discussions in the Grand Basilica's private chamber, where Seraphius shared tales of the Holy Empire's history, its triumphs and betrayals, unraveling the mysteries that Requiem of the Fallen had left sealed.
Elshua, both saint and Jun, soaked it up, his resolve to defy the novel's tragic arc—two years away—burning brighter with each day.
His skills, once basic, had evolved under Seraphius's guidance, a testament to his growth.
He'd learned that skills were divided into active and passive types, the former requiring conscious casting, the latter innate and constant.
His starting active skills—Heal, Shield, and Courage—had matured into advanced forms, their power rivaling those of the empire's high-ups.
He'd also mastered new active skills, offensive and debuff types, expanding his role beyond support. A passive skill, awakened during a grueling meditation, had further solidified his potential.
Standing in the training hall, Elshua summoned his status window, a golden panel shimmering before him, his golden eyes scanning it with a satisfied smile, Jun's analytical mind marveling at his progress.
⟪System Notification: Status Update⟫
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Character: Elshua (Saint of Aeloria)
Title: Spark of Aeloria
Status: Divine Energy (Recovered: 92%)
Health: Stable (Moderate physical fatigue, fully healed minor injuries)
Level: 3
Affiliation: Lion Hearts Knight Order (Allied), Holy Empire of Aeloria (Saint)
Role: Support/Offensive (Divine Caster)
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Active Skills:
- Mendlight (Support, Advanced): Channels pure divine light to heal one ally or self, restoring significant health and curing minor status ailments (e.g., poison, burns). Cooldown: 20 seconds. Duration: Instant. Cost: Moderate divine energy.
- Aegis (Support, Advanced): Summons a radiant barrier around one ally or self, absorbing multiple attacks or one powerful strike, reflecting minor damage back to the attacker. Duration: 15 seconds. Cooldown: 8 seconds. Cost: Moderate divine energy.
- Bless (Buff, Advanced): Imbues allies within a 30-meter radius with enhanced strength, resilience, and divine fervor, increasing attack, defense, and speed by 30% for 45 seconds. Cooldown: 50 seconds. Cost: High divine energy.
- Grand Cross (Offensive, Advanced): Unleashes a cross-shaped burst of holy light, dealing massive divine damage to enemies in a 10-meter line, burning undead or demonic foes for additional damage over 5 seconds. Cooldown: 30 seconds. Duration: Instant (burn effect: 5 seconds). Cost: High divine energy.
- Dawnshard (Offensive, Advanced): Conjures a spear of condensed divine light, piercing one enemy with precision, dealing severe damage and reducing their defense by 20% for 10 seconds. Cooldown: 25 seconds. Duration: Instant (debuff: 10 seconds). Cost: Moderate divine energy.
- Holy Chains (Debuff, Advanced): Summons ethereal chains of light to bind enemies within a 15-meter radius, reducing their movement speed by 50% and attack power by 25% for 12 seconds. Cooldown: 40 seconds. Duration: 12 seconds. Cost: High divine energy.
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Passive Skill:
- Heartsmite (Regenerative): Innately recovers minor injuries over time (e.g., cuts, bruises) and regenerates 1% of divine energy every 60 seconds, even during combat, enhancing endurance and resilience.
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⟪Objective: None Active⟫
Elshua's smile widened, his fingers tracing the air where the window glowed. Mendlight had surpassed Heal's modest restoration, its light now potent enough to mend broken bones or purge toxins.
Aegis, evolved from Shield, was a fortress, its reflective edge a surprise Seraphius had praised during spars. Bless, once Courage, was a rallying cry, its enhanced effects turning allies into divine warriors, a skill the Pope himself used in rituals.
Grand Cross and Dawnshard, offensive powers, gave Elshua a new edge, their light cutting through training dummies like a scythe, while Holy Chains, a debuff, had tripped Caldor during a playful test.
Heartsmite, his passive skill, was a quiet boon, its slow regeneration a lifeline, its warmth a constant reminder of Aeloria's favor.
Lost in the window, Elshua didn't notice Seraphius's approach, the Pope's robes rustling, his golden mitre glinting in the hall's light.
The old man's staff tapped the marble, a sharp crack that snapped Elshua back to the present.
"Young Saint,"
Seraphius said, his voice stern but laced with amusement, his white beard twitching.
"Gazing at your own glory, are we? Aeloria's light won't sharpen your focus if you're daydreaming."
His hawk-like eyes narrowed, though they sparkled with warmth, and Elshua flushed, dismissing the window with a sheepish grin.
"Sorry, Your Holiness," he said, his voice contrite, his golden eyes meeting Seraphius's.
"I was just… checking my progress. It's hard not to smile when I see how far I've come."
Jun's pride slipped through, tempered by Elshua's humility, and he stood straighter, his robe swaying, ready to resume training.
Seraphius snorted, leaning on his staff, its crystal tip glowing faintly.
"Pride's a fine spark, lad, but it'll burn you if you let it flare," he said, his tone gruff but fond.
"Your skills are mighty—Mendlight, Aegis, that flashy Grand Cross—but they're tools, not trophies. Now, focus. We're working on chaining Holy Chains with Dawnshard today. Precision, not vanity, Young Saint."
He pointed to a training dummy across the hall, its wooden frame etched with runes, and Elshua nodded, his smile fading into determination.
"Yes, Your Holiness," he said, his voice firm, stepping into a stance Seraphius had drilled into him—feet apart, hands raised, divine energy coiling like a spring.
He cast Holy Chains, his fingers tracing runes in the air, and ethereal links of light erupted, coiling around the dummy, its runes dimming as the chains tightened, slowing its simulated movements.
Without pause, he summoned Dawnshard, a spear of radiant light forming in his hand, its tip sharp as a star.
He hurled it, the shard piercing the dummy's chest, splintering wood and leaving a glowing mark, the debuff weakening its structure.
The combo was smooth, faster than his attempts weeks ago, and Elshua's heart raced, his energy humming.
Seraphius's beard twitched, a rare smile breaking through.
"Better, Young Saint," he said, his voice approving, tapping his staff. "Your timing's sharper, and that Dawnshard's got bite. But your chains were a hair slow—tighten the cast, or a demon'll slip free."
He gestured for Elshua to try again, and the training resumed, the hall echoing with the crack of light and wood, Seraphius's critiques sharp but encouraging.
Elshua's days were a tapestry of such moments, woven with study, training, and healing.
Mornings began with Lirien's tea and Caldor's banter, their high ranks—High Priestess and High Priest—still humbling, their warmth a family Elshua hadn't known he needed.
The palace library was his sanctuary, its shelves heavy with tomes on Aeloria's faith, magic, and the empire's veiled history, Jun's analytical mind piecing together clues about his drained energy three years ago, a mystery Requiem of the Fallen never resolved.
The healers' treatments, now twice weekly, were less draining, their divine light blending with his own, pushing his energy toward full restoration, though its purity demanded patience, a chalice filled drop by drop.
Afternoons in the gardens were a balm, the emerald lawns and star-shaped oaks a place to practice Bless, its golden wave rippling through the roses, their petals glowing faintly.
He'd cast Mendlight on minor scrapes from sparring, the light warm and precise, or test Aegis, its barrier shimmering as Caldor tossed pebbles in jest, the reflected sting making the High Priest yelp.
Grand Cross and Dawnshard were reserved for the training hall, their power too potent for the gardens, while Holy Chains amused Lirien, who'd dodge them with a dancer's grace, her laughter bright.
Heartsmite, ever-present, healed his bruises overnight, its slow regeneration a quiet strength, his divine energy ticking upward even after grueling days.
Elshua's growth wasn't just in skills but in spirit. Seraphius's stories—of the empire's wars, its miracles, the Spark's ancient role—gave him purpose, a connection to Aeloria's light that went beyond duty.
Letters from Caelan, arriving monthly from the World Academy, were a spark of joy, the paladin's scrawl detailing sparring matches, late-night studies, and friendships forged, his voice vivid despite the distance.
Elshua wrote back, sharing his training, teasing Caelan's fame among students, the woven cord and wooden lion symbols of their bond, kept on his bedside table beside a rosebud charm from the palace gardens.