Checking the time, Leylin donned his simple acolyte robes and set out toward Kroft's laboratory, moving at a steady, unhurried pace.
When he entered, Kroft looked up from his work and frowned, his sapphire‑bright eyes slightly widening in pleasant surprise as they swept over Leylin's aura.
The usually aloof professor set down his tools slowly, astonishment plain on his face.
"When you asked for leave to establish mind runes… I honestly expected modest improvement. I certainly never imagined you would skip straight past First Rank entirely and advance directly to Second."
He shook his head, still marveling. "And looking at how stable and dense your spiritual force is… you are not even far from Third Rank either."
His tone softened, turning earnest rather than suspicious. "I will not pry into what methods or secrets brought you so far so fast—every mage walks their own path. But I will warn you: be very careful. Shortcuts often carry hidden costs, and power gained too quickly can turn treacherous if you do not understand it fully."
Leylin bowed respectfully, inwardly breathing a quiet sigh of relief.
No invasive questioning, no demands to examine his techniques—genuine restraint meant far less hassle and risk of exposure.
"Thank you for your guidance and your warning, Professor. I will keep your words firmly in mind," he replied calmly and sincerely.
Kroft studied him a moment longer, then nodded with decision.
"There is something else, Leylin. Are you willing to formally become my personal disciple?"
Leylin adopted a suitably wary, thoughtful expression—exactly as expected of a cautious apprentice—and asked,
"May I know exactly what this entails, Teacher?"
"Rest easy—you need not fear unpleasant bargains," Kroft said with a faint, knowing smile.
"I know well how some masters treat their students—binding them with soul oaths, claiming rights to their findings, or even planting brands to control them later. I do none of those things."
"For me," he continued plainly, "being a disciple simply means I will hold nothing back from you. Every formula, every secret, every method I have spent my life accumulating—you will be taught it all, no holding back. In return, it grants you far greater privileges: priority access to my private library, steep discounts or free access when purchasing knowledge, recipes, or custom‑crafted potions from me, and my full protection and backing within this academy. That is all."
"Then it would be an honor! Master!" Leylin accepted immediately, bowing deeply and respectfully.
Kroft's expression softened, a faint genuine smile touching his lips. He reached out and pressed a vial of potion into Leylin's palm.
"Take this, it contains basic potioneering knowledge. Since you chose me as your teacher and you're officially an acolyte now, I figured you'd need to get started properly on your potioneering journey. Consider this one a welcome gift. Anything more advanced, however… you will have to pay magic crystals for, same as everyone else."
Leylin turned the vial in his hand, storing it safely, then looked back up with gratitude clear in his manner. "Thank you, Master. I am truly grateful for your generosity."
He paused for a heartbeat before continuing smoothly. "If I may also inquire, would you possibly have supplemental materials on herbology and magical zoology available for purchase as well? I believe a solid understanding of ingredients and magical creatures would only serve to make my work more precise."
"Oh, that slipped my mind! I forgot you came from the barren islands of Chernobyl... here,"
Kroft said, pausing as if realizing the obvious gap in his new student's background.
He picked up two books, each just a little bit shy from being the same width as one's palm.
He placed them on the table and gestured for Leylin to take them. "You can just pay me 2 magic crystals total for these. These covers the basics of magical plants and beast knowledge, just some stuff you can find almost everywhere, but at regular shops in the trading post they'd still run you three or four crystals combined."
Leylin took the books calmly, his expression grateful and composed.
He reached into his robes, pulled out two perfectly formed magic crystals, and placed them gently on the workbench before him.
"Thank you, Master. Your kindness is greatly appreciated," he said respectfully.
*****
For the weeks that followed, Leylin settled into a quiet, unhurried rhythm.
Ostensibly, he was waiting, or actually biding his time while his 24 mind runes slowly solidified and stabilized within his consciousness, a process that should have demanded constant care and meditation.
In truth, he barely paid it any mind at all; the consolidation was proceeding automatically, already sitting at 99% completion without him expending a single thought or effort.
While his nanites and other systems handled the task of consolidation silently in the background, his real focus turned outward.
Over these days, a distinct interest had taken root within him.
That is, rearing and studying magical creatures.
To start with, he even took missions from the task hall regularly, venturing out not merely for crystals or credits, but to capture specimens personally.
It was never a hobby; it was a decision purely for practical research.
In his studies of the books on basic herbology and zoology he had made a crucial observation: magical creatures shared a fundamental trait with his own newly‑modified physique.
Like his own, their bodies passively absorbed ambient mana, further refining it by consuming other life forms that carried it.
By studying them, he could understand how this process functioned naturally, untuned by runes or design.
More than that, he sought to unravel exactly how these beasts spontaneously developed innate abilities and elemental affinities without any spells, meditation, or instruction.
These past few weeks, Leylin could be seen walking beneath the canopy, a whole murder of red‑eyed ravens circling overhead, perching calmly upon his shoulders and arms, croaking softly as he stroked their feathers.
Even more striking was the massive, shaggy Violent Hilly Bear he rode, its massive frame moving with surprising grace, no trace of aggression toward the youth upon its back.
In the entire magus world, not one sane acolyte of second or even third rank but himself would have the guts to do the same thing.
Provided that these creatures are basically forcefully being conditioned via biochip insertion and nano machine injection.
[Bloodline Atavism Pathways Established for the Violent Hilly Bear]
[Effect: Flame Affinity Enhancement — Flaming Furry Innate Ability Awakening.]
From observing these creatures and initiating atavism in their bloodlines, some of the answers finally crystallized.
It all came down to natural runes.
Deep within the tissues, bones, and bloodlines of magical beasts, faint, instinct‑formed runic patterns gradually took shape.
They are etched slowly by constant mana absorption, inheritance, and evolution.
When these formations naturally aligned and completed, they would give rise to the awakening of elemental affinities… or it can even trigger the awakening of powerful innate abilities.
The red‑eyed ravens, his first subjects, for instance naturally formed runic networks in its brain.
These runes are geared toward sharpening intellect, perception, and tracking senses.
The Violent Hilly Bear's innate runes instead reinforced physical strength, durability, and the fierce heat of fire deep within its fur.
It seems the original author, 'nature' itself had been using the same principles Leylin had engineered simply by wanting to improve his stats.
'Record everything and simulate artificial adaptation on magical and non magical human physique. Designate a whole team of our forces for project 'Catch'emAll' whenever the network signal goes online.'
As he did this, Leylin's eyes blanked before closing and the murder scattered out and into the forest.
While the Red-eyed Crows began their hunt for magical plants, Leylin got to experience second hand flight through the eyes of the leader crow.
*****
As Kroft's newly accepted personal disciple, Leylin now stood on equal footing with other rising stars, names like Bosain, Merlin, and Jayden.
He received the same resources, the same attention, and the same level of respect.
His demeanor was always relaxed, polite, and easygoing. So much so that he earned genuine praise and goodwill from fellow acolytes.
Yet from the very start, he drew clear, uncrossable boundaries.
Beautiful acolytes had tried to set honeytraps on this promising new hotshot, hoping to bind him with affection or secrets, only to find every attempt rebuffed effortlessly, his commitment always beyond their reach.
Beneath this calm surface, everything else accelerated.
While the academy taught, Leylin learned, and when he learns something, so does his network.
Dozens of Mass Transmigration sleeper agents were now enrolled throughout Abyssal Bone Forest, embedded in every class, library, and workshop.
Every scrap of knowledge they encountered pooled together, flowing constantly back to him.
The sheer volume of organized, cross‑referenced, and optimized knowledge was enough to leave even an official Magus lightheaded with awe.
Consolidation, biological research, and magical simulations ran twenty‑four seven, deep within his internal systems.
Leylin looked up at the sky, the ravens circling high above, and smiled faintly to himself.
Even as Leylin wondered what the future would bring, far‑reaching operations unfolded across the South Coast.
Teams of T‑3000 units moved silently through major cities and trade hubs.
This is Wave Two's true mission: infiltration and influence.
They replaced key figures, took over command of forces, or rose naturally into positions of power, weaving Farlier's influence layer by layer into existing structures.
The Southern Coast continent however is extremely vast, limiting how rapidly they could spread, yet progress remained steady, systematic, and unrelenting.
Despite this, not everything went perfectly.
Deep within the command centre, reports came in—marked with a strange, persistent failure no one had foreseen.
[Attempt A36B12]
[Orbital Rocket Launched!]
[Ascent nominal… exiting high‑atmosphere layer… mana‑density anomaly spiking…]
[Signal Lost]
[Attempt Failed]
Unit destroyed, signal lost.
This was the most puzzling problem Farlier forces had encountered since conquering the Chernobyl Islands.
Low‑altitude drones, airships, and scouts functioned flawlessly.
But every advanced satellite—engineered, shielded, and built to survive the harshness of deep space over a dozen times over—vanished without fail once they climbed high enough.
No debris, no clear damage signature, just an eerie silence.
It's as if something above the atmosphere was eating their projects.
John reviewed the logs one last time, then issued the order calmly.
"This has gone long enough, halt real world applications of project SKYEYE for now, we will temporarily focus the alternative."
Project TOWER, the alternative, is designed to replace orbital networks while true space proved unreachable.
It involves the construction of massive, arc‑repeater spires across every major territory, each fitted with signal amplifiers, transceivers, and aerial relay platforms.
Layered in overlapping chains, they would mirror every function of satellites like mapping, monitoring, data transmission, real‑time global networking without ever needing to breach whatever unseen barrier that swallowed anything that tried to leave this world.
It would be bulkier, slower to deploy, and require constant maintenance… but it would work.