Chapter 111 Nimran (6)

Words : 1857 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

"Well done, Seraphina and Arthur," Nero said as we stepped into the grand entrance hall of the mansion, the warmth inside chasing away the chill still clinging to our clothes. His sharp eyes flicked between us, then to the device that had recorded our mission's success. He held it like a trophy, though his tone carried the casual authority of a man who expected excellence as a matter of course. "You two are the first team to complete your assignment. According to this, your teamwork was exemplary. And Arthur..." His gaze pinned me in place, his voice dropping to a quieter register. "You didn't go all out, did you? You treated this as training." I straightened under his scrutiny. "Yes, Professor. It seemed appropriate." He raised an eyebrow, but his lips curved in a rare, approving smile. "Regardless, the hunt was flawless. A+. Well done." We bowed together, Seraphina and I murmuring our thanks, though my focus was already drifting to the plans I had for the evening. As we turned to leave, Seraphina's voice reached me, soft but deliberate. "Man is a thinking reed, Arthur. Never stop thinking. You're particularly good at it." I froze for half a second, caught off guard. That was my favorite quote—Blaise Pascal's words, now spoken with quiet conviction by someone I hadn't imagined would know them. Before I could respond, she turned on her heel and walked away, her silver hair catching the low light like threads of frost. I watched her go, feeling an odd sense of camaraderie in her parting words. 'To think she would quote that,' I mused as I headed back to my room, the mansion's opulent corridors almost swallowing the sound of my footsteps. Tonight, I had work to do. The Black Star wouldn't form itself, and if I was going to attempt something this ambitious, I needed to understand its intricacies completely. And tomorrow... tomorrow, I would claim the Basilisk Heart in Nimran. The foundation for the Lich I was creating rested on the success of these two undertakings. Inside my room, I shed my jacket and boots, letting the warmth of the suite seep into my skin. My desk, a sleek construct of glass and metal, awaited me. The book Jin had slipped into my spatial ring sat neatly in the center, its black leather cover devoid of title or ornamentation. Beside it, the potion gleamed faintly under the soft light, its viscous contents swirling like a miniature galaxy. As I settled into the chair, I allowed myself a moment to center my thoughts. Understanding the Black Star wasn't just about technical mastery; it was about grasping the nature of dark mana itself. It was unlike any other element—capricious, demanding, and immensely powerful when wielded correctly. But it wasn't alone in its uniqueness. To truly comprehend its potential, I had to consider its counterpart: light mana. Both elements were the rarest in the world, yet they stood apart not just in scarcity, but in sheer superiority. Where fire mana roared and wind mana danced, dark and light mana reshaped the battlefield entirely, bending reality with unmatched versatility. It was no wonder entire schools of magic had been built around their study, each jealously guarding its secrets. The book opened with a whisper, its pages filled with dense, arcane diagrams and flowing text. A mana core was an undifferentiated reservoir of energy, colored only by the user's affinity. The Black Star, on the other hand, was a singularity—a compressed nexus of pure dark mana, so dense it bordered on becoming a liquid. But success... success meant a level of power that was unparalleled. A Black Star wasn't just a tool; it was an amplifier, a conductor of dark mana that turned ordinary spells into forces of nature. And if I could form a White Star as well—its counterpart, a nexus of pure light mana—then I would hold the keys to wielding the rarest and most potent elements in existence. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. The book's author had noted that the Black Star had been invented in the Western continent, where necromancy flourished like nowhere else. There, dark mana wasn't just an arcane curiosity—it was a way of life. Almost every mage born there had an affinity for it, a stark contrast to the other continents where it remained rare, almost mythological. I rose from the chair, stretching out the stiffness in my limbs, and glanced out the window. Nimran's lights sparkled against the backdrop of the dark forest, a reminder of the city's vitality amidst the wilderness. Somewhere out there, the Basilisk Heart awaited me—a prize that would bring me one step closer to mastering the path I had chosen. But first, I needed Rachel. Not for one of her encouraging smiles, though that was always a bonus. No, this time, I needed her knowledge—specifically about the White Star, the light mana equivalent to the Black Star I was struggling to comprehend. If anyone could explain the mechanics of it, it was Rachel, the resident saintess of light magic in Class 1-A. I knocked on her door. A moment later, it swung open to reveal Rachel in casual clothes, her golden hair swept into a loose ponytail. She looked relaxed but still radiant, as if she'd just stepped out of a warm sunrise. "Arthur," she greeted me with a smile that could melt glaciers. "Come in." I stepped inside, taking a seat on the chair by her desk as she perched on the edge of her bed, cross-legged and casual, like she'd been waiting for someone to entertain her. A faint glow from her bedside lamp cast soft light around the room, giving it a cozy, lived-in feel. "How was the hunt?" I asked, leaning back in the chair. Her face twisted in mock exasperation. "How do you think it went? I was with Cecilia." I raised an eyebrow, amused. "That bad?" Rachel scoffed, folding her arms dramatically. "We ended early today, thank the heavens. Hopefully, Nero's in a forgiving mood, or we're looking at a barely passing grade." "You guys got an A+ last time, though," I pointed out, scratching the back of my head. "That was a miracle," she shot back, her tone as sharp as the glare she aimed my way. "A miracle. Got it?" "Got it," I replied, chuckling. Her expression softened, and her lips curled into a warm smile that lingered for just a moment too long, leaving the room feeling a little warmer than it had been before. "So," she said, tilting her head inquisitively. "What brings you here, Arthur? I'm sure it's not just for friendly chit-chat. Dinner's in an hour, after all." I didn't bother beating around the bush. "I want to learn about the White Star. Particularly, how to form one." Her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression shifting to something calculating—an unusual look on Rachel's face. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "The White Star, huh? Interesting." She hummed thoughtfully, her gaze locking onto mine. "If you manage to pull that off… Well, let's just say you'd look more like a Hero than Lucifer himself." There it was. Rachel, for all her warmth and kindness, was still sharp as a blade. She had seen through my intentions effortlessly, her brilliance shining through her golden exterior. "Perhaps," I admitted, not denying it. She smirked and reached for her nightstand, rummaging through a small pile of books before plucking one out. With an underhanded toss, she lobbed it at me. S~eaʀᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Catch." I snatched it from the air, glancing at the plain, leather-bound cover. "Why do you even have a book about the White Star? And while we're at it, why did Jin have one about the Black Star?" Rachel shrugged nonchalantly, a playful gleam in her eyes. "The White Star's fascinating. It's like bedtime reading for me. As for Jin? Well, maybe he just likes brooding, edgy magic. Fits his aesthetic, don't you think?" I rolled my eyes, though the thought of Jin flipping through a book on the Black Star while maintaining his stoic deadpan expression was amusing. I turned my attention back to Rachel, but before I could ask another question, she spoke again, her cheeks suddenly turning a faint shade of pink. "Do you… do you want to see it?" she asked, clearing her throat. "My White Star?" My eyebrows shot up, caught off guard by the suggestion. My mind scrambled for an appropriate response that wouldn't earn me a slap. She must have noticed my surprise because she quickly waved her hands, her words tumbling out in an embarrassed rush. "N-not physically, obviously! You can't see it—it's not that kind of thing. I mean… I can show you how it works. How I use it." I bit back a grin at her flustered state and nodded, holding up the book she'd handed me. "Sure. A demonstration would help me understand what I'm dealing with. And, uh, thanks for the clarification." Rachel huffed, the faint blush still lingering on her cheeks as she stood and raised her hand. A faint glow began to form in her palm, like the first rays of dawn breaking through the darkness. The light grew steadily brighter, swirling and condensing into something tangible yet intangible—a faint, pulsating star of pure light mana, so brilliant it seemed to cast its own warmth into the room. "This," she said, her voice steady now, "is the White Star." The air around her shimmered faintly, the sheer presence of the White Star altering the mana flow in the room. It was beautiful, but there was an undeniable weight to it—a testament to its immense power and complexity. I could feel the purity of it, the way it resonated with her very being, as if it were an extension of her soul. "It's not just about compressing mana," she explained, her voice tinged with passion. "It's about understanding light itself. You have to focus on the essence of it—its purity, its warmth, its ability to illuminate and cleanse. Compress it slowly, carefully, until it becomes something more." She closed her hand, and the star dissolved into a faint glow before fading entirely. "It's not easy. You need a natural affinity for light mana, and even then, it takes days—sometimes weeks—to perfect. But once you have it, it becomes an amplifier for everything you do. Healing, offense, defense… it's like having an extra core entirely." Her golden eyes met mine, and she smiled again, softer this time. "It's not just about power, though. It's about what you stand for. The White Star isn't just a tool—it's a symbol of hope." I nodded, her words resonating with me more than I cared to admit.

Chapter 111 Nimran (6)

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