The first rays of dawn cut through the dense canopy, spilling golden light across the ruined clearing. Smoke and embers drifted lazily in the air, curling from scorched earth and shattered remains.
Riven stood at the center of it all. His breathing steady, his flas flickering, his body covered in dried blood—none of it his own.
He stretched his fingers, feeling the lingering heat of Abyssal Flas still curled at his fingertips. The primal energy of the Wilds had pushed him, forced him to test the limits of his new power.
And it had been glorious.
A soft hum flickered in his mind as the system chid.
[[ System Notification ]]
[[ Hunting Report
— Total Mana Cores Acquired: 92 Common, 34 Uncommon, 23 Rare, 2 Epic ]]
A substantial haul.
More than enough to establish himself.
Riven exhaled and hung his head back, relishing in the now quiet forest. He had pushed his free day pass to its absolute limit—any longer and the academy's tracking spells would flag him. He couldn't afford unnecessary attention, not yet.
It was ti to leave.
Riven turned, his abyssal flas flickering out as he made his way toward the designated exit beacon, where a shimring teleportation gate awaited. The normally busy area was currently empty — not everyone was crazy like him and staying overnight.
He sent out a silent call and two figures materialized from the shadows.
Nyx and Krux.
They erged as if stepping out of nothingness, their forms seamlessly blending with the shifting light of dawn.
"How was your hunt?" Nyx asked, her dark gaze sparkling from the adrenaline of her own hunt.
Riven rolled his shoulders, letting the last remnants of tension bleed from his muscles. His body was sore, but the weight of mana cores in his storage made it more than worth it.
"Productive," he murmured, tossing a mana core in the air before catching it. "And yours?"
Nyx smirked whilst transferring their mana cores directly into Rivens inventory. "Krux and I were efficient," she said smoothly. "Though, I had to stop him from drawing too much attention."
Krux huffed, flipping his sword over his shoulder. "Bah, what does it matter if a few fools spot us? They wouldn't have lived to tell the tale."
Riven's gaze sharpened. "It's not ti yet to make hasty decisions that could cause the academy to beco suspicious — Hold back until I say otherwise."
Krux let out a low chuckle but said nothing more.
Riven shifted his attention back to the teleportation beacon. Ti was running out—his free day pass was nearly spent, and he had no intention of paying unnecessary fees.
"Hide for now," he said.
They slipped back in Rivens shadows just as he stepped into the shimring gateway, and in an instant, the dense wilds vanished.
The world shifted.
Riven stepped out of the teleportation gate, back into the polished halls of the Navigation Hall. The stark contrast between the dense, mana-rich wilderness of the Primordial Wilds and the academy's structured order was jarring. The air here was clean, lacking the raw, untad energy he had been surrounded by for hours.
Despite the early hour, students were already filtering in, so preparing for their own hunts, others returning from overnight expeditions. A few glanced in his direction, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to surprise.
Riven didn't linger.
With smooth steps, he strode through the halls and out into the Second-Year Market District, his coat still dusted with dried blood. The scent of mana-infused goods filled the air—herbs, potions, weapons, talismans—all available for the right price.
And for the first ti, Riven had the currency to spend.
His steps carried him toward one of the many potion stalls, its shelves lined with shimring vials of various colors.
As Riven's gaze drifted over the rows of shimring potions, a mory surfaced. The first ti he had arrived in this world, he had used a detox potion—a small but significant step that had refined his mana flow, making it more efficient.
That had been before he had even ford his first Circle.
Now, with his Second Circle fully established, his mana had evolved, becoming denser, stronger—yet traces of old inefficiencies might still linger.
If a detox potion had improved him back then, how much more could it enhance him now? It was worth finding out.
The shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with keen eyes, barely spared him a glance as he approached.
"What do you need?" she asked briskly.
Riven leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers against the polished wood. "Detox Potion. Strongest you have."
That caught her attention.
She looked him over, eyes narrowing slightly. "Most students don't request sothing that potent unless they've been stuck in a low-tier for too long or have overloaded their mana channels."
Riven smiled faintly. "I like to be efficient."
The shopkeeper humd before reaching beneath the counter and pulling out a small, glass vial filled with thick, silver-blue liquid. Unlike the neatly arranged potions behind her, this one was sealed with intricate runes.
"This is the Elixir of Purification, an Epic tiered potion." she said, setting it down between them. "Cleanses impurities, clears mana pathways, and breaks any lingering blockages from previous breakthroughs. But," she added, leveling him with a sharp look, "it's strong. If your body isn't ready, it will hurt."
Riven's fingers curled around the vial, feeling the cool glass beneath his fingertips. He wasn't afraid of a little pain.
"How much?" he asked.
"Five rare Mana Cores and one Epic Core."
Riven didn't hesitate. He reached into his storage and pulled out the required cores, placing them on the counter. The shopkeeper raised a brow, clearly surprised at how quickly he produced them, but said nothing as she swept them into a storage pouch.
"Pleasure doing business." She nodded, sliding the vial toward him.
Riven pocketed it and turned away without another word.
His next stop was a weapons vendor, where he browsed through various enchanted daggers, looking for sothing lightweight and discreet. While his Abyssal Flas were his main focus, he wasn't so arrogant as to ignore the value of physical weapons. And whilst his legendary staff was still broken, he needed sothing that could substitute it for now.
His eyes widened a fraction and he stilled as he rembered that he was still owed a day at the fire dense mana island courtesy of Elder Thorne.
He would have to visit him later.
He resud his browsing, his gaze landing on a Blazebane Fang—a short dagger forged from volcanic iron, its hilt imbued with an ever-burning ember core. The enchantnt pulsed faintly, enhancing fire-affinity attacks and allowing the blade to ignite upon command. Expensive. But worth it.
After securing a few more essential supplies—rations, ergency recovery potions —Riven finally made his way back toward the dormitories.
The market was beginning to fill with students by now, and more than a few whispers followed him.
"Is that blood on him?"
"Did he go to the Wilds alone?"
"I thought he was a first-year just last week—how the hell does he look like that now?"
Riven ignored them.
He had what he needed. Now, it was ti to purge his body of the remaining limitations.
—x—
Riven entered his small room, closing the door behind him before tossing his newly acquired items onto the nearby desk. The weight of the mana cores in his storage and the Blazebane Fang at his side was reassuring, but for now, there was sothing more important to take care of.
He turned toward the small adjoining bathing room and twisted the valve, letting hot water spill into the tub. Within monts, steam filled the space, curling against the walls and fogging the mirror.
From his storage, he retrieved the Elixir of Purification. Uncorking the vial, he poured the entire contents into the steaming bath.
The water shuddered as the elixir mixed in, tendrils of silver energy dispersing through the liquid before fading into an eerie transparency. A faint, sharp scent filled the air—herbs, alchemical compounds, and sothing more potent beneath it.
The purge was about to begin.
Riven exhaled and undressed, stepping into the bath.
The mont his skin t the water, a jolt of heat rushed through him, different from any fla he had ever felt. It wasn't fire, wasn't mana—it was sothing deeper, sothing that dug into his very core.
Then—the burning started.
A searing heat crawled under his skin, sinking into his muscles, into his very bones. His mana channels flared, pulsing erratically as the detoxification process began.
Impurities that even the previous detox potion couldn't gather —years of residual toxins, waste mana, stagnation—all being forcefully purged from his body.
Riven clenched his jaw as blackened veins briefly appeared along his arms, his body instinctively resisting the process. His abyssal flas flickered to life at his fingertips, reacting to the sudden upheaval inside him, but he forced them down.
This pain was necessary and he welcod it.
His vision blurred for a mont as a wave of nausea hit him. Sweat mixed with the steam in the air, his breathing uneven. He could feel sothing being ripped away—the remnants of old trauma, traces of incomplete mana refinent, residual poisons from years of tornt.
Then—his body jerked.
A dark, viscous substance seeped from his pores, dissolving into the water instantly. The bath around him darkened, faint whisps of energy rising from the surface.
He exhaled sharply as his mana heart pulsed—cleaner, sharper, more efficient.
The burning eased, the pain fading into a strange, weightless sensation. His muscles felt lighter, his breath smoother.
Then, sothing he hadn't considered happened.
His skin, once bearing faint remnants of battle scars, smoothed, imperfections fading as the detoxification process enhanced his natural healing. The rougher edges of his features—subtle remnants of exhaustio and strain—softened, replaced by an almost unnatural sharpness.
His hair, damp from the steam, darkened to an even deeper obsidian, strands shifting like liquid shadow in the low light. The once wine-red undertones, remnants of his Drakar bloodline, had deepened—more vivid, more pronounced.
When he reached up to push his wet hair back, he caught a glimpse of his hand—his fingertips sharpened slightly, his nails carrying a faint, polished gleam. The detox had refined not just his mana channels but his physical body as well.
His face felt lighter, as if years of strain had been stripped away, leaving behind sothing sleek, sharper, dangerously refined.
He let out a slow breath and leaned back in the bath, letting the warmth settle over him.
The elixir definitely lived up to its na - he was thoroughly purified.
When he finally stepped out of the now blackened bathwater, steam clinging to his fra, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye.
And for the first ti in a long ti since coming here, he barely recognized himself.
His usual angular features now carried a sharper, unnatural symtry—like sothing forged, rather than born. His eyes, already a striking shade of blue, now glead with an icy, predatory brilliance. The faintest glow of abyssal mana flickered within them, deep and consuming.
His physique, forged from his previous Body Reforging had shed its final imperfections. Every muscle was lean, compact, and defined, his entire form perfectly balanced between grace and power.
Riven ran a hand through his damp hair, smirking slightly.
He looked… inhumanly perfect.
This was more than just purification—it was transformation.
Riven pulled his black robes over his shoulders, adjusting the fit before summoning Nyx and Krux from the depths of his shadow.
The two materialized seamlessly and Krux let out a low whistle as he circled Riven, eyes flickering over his newly refined form. "That detox potion worked wonders, my liege. Perhaps I should get one as well." He flexed his arms, as if imagining his own transformation.
Nyx smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "Don't be greedy."
Krux pouted but said nothing, rubbing the spot as he muttered under his breath.
Riven, however, had already shifted his focus. His gaze turned sharp, calculating. "It's ti we make our move."
At his words, both Nyx and Krux straightened, their casual banter replaced with absolute seriousness.
"What are your orders, my liege?" Nyx asked, kneeling slightly in deference.
Riven exhaled. "I'll be training with the Archmage soon. When that happens, the king's leash will tighten—I'll have even less freedom than I do now." His jaw clenched slightly. "I need to establish my influence beyond the kingdom before that happens."
He sat on the edge of his bed, his brows furrowed in thought. "The problem is how."
Nyx's expression darkened, her eyes flickering with sothing distant—mories long buried. "The first step should be scouting the Shadow Kingdom."
At Riven's sharp look, she nodded and continued. "It's been centuries since I last saw it, but I doubt much remains aside from ruins and wastelands. Still…" Her voice lowered, reverent. "It is our ho. And more importantly, it is ho to your people." She knelt fully now, one fist against her chest. "So scattered, so hidden. So waiting in the dark for your return."
Riven's expression hardened.
The Shadow Kingdom. A land long lost, whispered only in myths. His people—his true bloodline—had been exiled, hunted, erased from history. He could feel the hunger in his mana, the pull toward sothing greater.
But one issue remained.
"I can't leave the academy," Riven muttered. "Second-years aren't permitted to travel freely. From what I understand, only third-years can leave for assignnts, and I'm not close to forming my Third Circle, let alone my Fourth."
A heavy silence settled over them.
Then—
Krux scoffed, crossing his arms. "Why not just use your Shadow Clone?"
Riven blinked. "What?"
Nyx's eyes widened before she let out a rare laugh, rubbing Krux on the head. "I knew you had a brain in there!" She turned back to Riven, excitent gleaming in her dark eyes. "Shadow Clone! It's a lost necromancy ability—one that Velmorian wielded. It would allow you to forge a copy of yourself and switch between your real body and the clone at will."
Riven stilled, his mind racing.
A perfect decoy. A way to be in two places at once.
If he could find it and master it…
It was the perfect solution.
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