The amount of mana currently contained within my Stigma was about half the average mana capacity of a cadet.
Which ant... I’d improved.
My mana had increased by roughly 1.5 tis since the fight with Astaroth. That might not sound impressive, but considering how mana growth normally works, it was a massive leap.
More importantly, that increase hadn’t happened gradually. It ca all at once.
Usually, mana builds slowly—like pouring water into a jar, drop by drop, over years of breathing exercises and training. Sure, there are rare elixirs or sudden epiphanies that can jolt soone’s mana pool forward, but those are outliers. Miracles, really.
Which is why I couldn’t help but mutter, "If I could just envelop myself in the Primordial Fla again... my mana might increase even more."
The problem was, ever since the battle with Astaroth, that wild, untad fla had gone dormant. It had wrapped around like a second skin in that fight—but now, it slept deep within my Stigma, silent and cold.
The state I’d entered back then—when the Primordial Fla had raged through —I’d started calling it the Incarnation of Fire.
If I could enter that state at will, I wouldn’t have to worry about mana or strength ever again.
But the truth? I still had no idea how I even entered that state to begin with.
So, I started piecing together a few theories. Hypotheses, if you will.
First: maybe it was triggered by experiencing multiple deaths in a short period. Seed plausible. After all, during my daily training routine—where I died four tis a day to train with the fla—I’d noticed that the Primordial Fla responded strongly to death.
But even when I secretly left the recovery room and pushed myself to death and revival over and over again... nothing happened. The fla didn’t stir.
Second: maybe it had sothing to do with mana depletion. I’d completely drained myself during the fight with Astaroth, after all. But again, even when I forced my mana down to zero during tests, the fla remained still.
That led to the third hypothesis—the one I was least confident in.
It had responded... to my will.
At that mont in the fight, when all I could think was "I must save Iris"—that was when the fla had awakened. When I wasn’t thinking of survival or victory... only of protecting her.
"In terms of sequence, this makes the most sense," I murmured aloud.
Still, it sounded too dramatic. Too idealistic.
"This isn’t so shonen manga."
With a sigh, I shook the thought from my head. After all my experints, one thing was clear: I couldn’t trigger the Incarnation of Fire at will.
Which ant I couldn’t count on it. I couldn’t treat it like a real weapon in my arsenal.
Setting aside that unreachable fla, I turned my attention to sothing I could control—my sword.
As I gripped the hilt, a tingling sensation ran through my arm. It was like the blade and my hand were part of the sa limb. A seamless connection I had never felt before, even after wielding a sword across countless lifetis.
My swordsmanship had evolved.
It wasn’t just that I’d gotten stronger. It was as if a blockage I hadn’t even known existed had suddenly cleared. The technique I’d used during the battle—sothing I had only ever imagined in theory—had finally manifested in reality.
"Well... I only pulled it off once, though."
And without the Incarnation of Fire, I couldn’t use it again. Still, there’s a massive difference between never doing sothing... and doing it once.
The 9th form of the Sun Sword—a technique requiring the absolute pinnacle of skill—had finally passed from concept to reality for . Even if I couldn’t use it now, the mory of performing it had rewired sothing in my body and soul.
My martial arts had grown sharper too. Every move, every stance, even the techniques I’d learned from Berald—they all felt more fluid. More lethal.
It was as they say: all paths eventually converge.
Swordsmanship, martial arts, instinct—they’d all advanced in sync.
Now, if only I could say the sa for my magic...
"To be honest, I’m still awkward with it," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
I’d used a barrier spell against Astaroth, sure, but I was still fumbling through actual combat applications. Most of my magic knowledge ca from books. Theory, not practice.
That needed to change.
Back then, I didn’t have enough mana to even consider using magic mid-battle. But things were different now. If I could weave magic into my swordplay—like a true battlemage—my combat potential would explode.
I laughed quietly. "With my current strength, I might be able to fight Professor Lucas without the Stigma enhancer."
I was half-tempted to rush off right then and challenge him again.
But I paused.
’If I do that, Iris definitely won’t stay quiet.’
Smiling wryly at the thought, I turned back to my training.
Boom!
Right on cue, the door to the private training hall flew open.
And there she was—Saintess Iris, eyes blazing with frustration.
"Dale Han!" she shouted. "Didn’t I tell you to rest quietly in bed?! When did you sneak out again?!"
"Ah, well... a little sweat actually speeds up recovery—"
"Silence!"
And just like that, my grand return to training ended with being dragged back to the recovery room by a furious Iris.
Days passed.
I was confined to my private recovery room under Iris’s strict surveillance. But at long last, freedom returned. I stepped outside and squinted up at the sunlight with a deep breath of satisfaction.
"You could’ve stayed until the break was over..." Iris murmured beside , clearly displeased that I was leaving the ward early.
"We agreed—just one more day," I reminded her. "Besides, aren’t you tired of babysitting all the ti?"
"Well..."
Iris trailed off, glancing behind her. Camilla was there, arms crossed, glaring like a guard dog ready to pounce.
She sighed. "A delegation from the Holy Kingdom arrived. They’re here to investigate whether the Saintess was truly unhard. You must return to the dorms."
Iris let out a soft groan. "Can’t I stay just one more day?"
"No."
Camilla’s tone brooked no room for debate.
Iris glanced at again, her expression wistful, but eventually slumped her shoulders and turned toward the dormitory.
Quietly, I followed.
But even as we walked, my mind was already racing toward the next challenge. Toward what lay ahead.
Because I still had a fla to awaken.
And I would.
No matter what it took.
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