Chapter 126 - 125: The Concordia Cycle

Words : 1349 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

Chapter 126 of "The Devouring Knight" opens presenting key developments: Chapter 126: Chapter 125: The Concordia Cycle Goblin Village, late afternoon. The windmills turned lazily above the... Read on!

Chapter 126: Chapter 125: The Concordia Cycle Goblin Village, late afternoon. The windmills turned lazily above the treeline, creaking in rhythm with the breeze. Below, the river spun the waterwheel generator Lumberling had built from salvaged copper and stone. In the half-buried workshop, glass bulbs flickered to life, soft light dancing like captured stars. It wasn’t much. But it was civilization. Progress. Lumberling stood in the doorway, wiping grease from his hands when he sensed her behind him. "You built all this in less than a week," Vaenyra said softly, arms folded as she watched the wind catch in the sails of the nearest turbine. "I almost thought it was magic." "Feels like cheating," he chuckled. "But I’ll take any edge I can get." She stepped beside him, her blue hair swaying. "Then perhaps it’s time you learn actual magic." He blinked. "You’ll be the one teaching me?" "I’ll start you off." She tilted her head. "Whether you survive the rest of the path is up to you." ..... They sat on smooth stones beneath the canopy just outside the village, where the leaves filtered sunlight into shifting mosaics. A mana crystal hovered gently between them, glowing faintly in Vaenyra’s hand. "Mages," she began, "are those who awaken a Mana Heart. That’s where it all begins." Lumberling leaned forward, eyes fixed, mind whirring like his generator. "Mana Heart... is that like a core?" "More than a core. It’s the bridge between your spirit and the world’s energy. Once awakened, it anchors magic to your soul. We measure a mage’s strength by the number of Magic Circles they’ve formed." She extended one finger. "Magic Circle One, your initial awakening. At that stage, you can barely sense elemental threads. Maybe coax a flame, or chill a cup of water." She lifted another finger. "Magic Circle Two, your mana becomes steady enough for beginner spells, minor enchantments. By Circle Three, you can weave multiple threads, construct basic matrices." "Matrix?" Lumberling asked. "The formula behind a spell. Structure, intent, control." She touched the crystal. It shimmered into a perfect triangle, then a cube, then collapsed into mist. Lumberling watched, eyes wide. "So each circle is a leap in control?" "Exactly. At Circle Four, you unlock real elemental power, stormcalling, walls of thorns, sculpted ice blades. I once saw a Circle Four mage twist fog into spears mid-battle. Circle Five brings area spells, mana constructs, sustained channels. At Circle Six, you begin shaping spells that are yours. Personalized. Forged from will and memory." Then her tone darkened slightly. "Circle Seven... you distort nature. You can summon meteors. Freeze rivers. Kill without fire or blade." "And after that?" She looked at him. "Archmage. The final threshold. Their words shape mana. Their steps alter the flow of magic. They don’t just cast spells, they rewrite the rules." Lumberling sat back, stunned. "And you... what circle are you?" "Sixth," she said without hesitation, meeting his eyes. His brows lifted. "You’re a Knight Three Stage, and a Sixth Circle Mage? That’s..." "Excessive? Maybe." She smirked, but there was weight behind it. "...Terrifying," he finished. Then he grinned. "Also, kind of hot." Vaenyra blinked, caught off guard, then rolled her eyes with a faint smile. "Focus." But the moment passed, and her expression turned somber. "How’s Sylra?" he asked, voice quieter. Vaenyra’s hands folded on her lap. "She’s... healing. Slowly." Her eyes didn’t meet his. He nodded, saying nothing more. Then she stood. "We’ll start tomorrow with breathwork. Be well-rested. Magic punishes impatience." She then turned to leave. Lumberling stayed seated a while longer, watching the windmill blades spin, their motion mirrored by the swirl of new thoughts igniting in his mind. ’A Mana Heart, huh...’ He clenched his fist. ’Time to build one.’ ..... Morning came. The first light of dawn cast a golden hue across the fields. Dew still clung to the grass when Lumberling arrived, the air cool and quiet. He stood beneath the tree where he often meditated, arms crossed, waiting. Vaenyra arrived not long after, her steps light against the grass, each movement as poised as a dancer’s. Her long blue hair was tied back in a simple braid, the strands catching the morning sun like silk. A few loose wisps framed her face, softening the sharp grace of her cheekbones. Her emerald eyes, calm and clear, held a quiet strength that drew his gaze. She wore no jewelry, no makeup, nothing to distract from the effortless elegance that made her presence feel... stilling. "You’re early," she said. "I want to start." He gestured around them. "Is this place good?" She looked around, taking in the breeze, the shade, and the distant bleating of goats on the farm. "It’s quiet. This will do." Lumberling nodded. "Then let’s begin. Teach me how to create a mana heart." Vaenyra raised a brow. "That’s not what we’re doing today." He blinked. "Huh? I thought you were going to teach me magic." "I am," she said, her voice calm. "But not yet. There’s something you need to understand first. Walking both the mage’s path and the knight’s isn’t just difficult, it’s dangerous. He frowned. "Why is it so hard to walk both paths?" Vaenyra knelt and picked up a smooth stone from the soil, rolling it between her fingers as she spoke. "Because mana and aura follow different laws. Mana requires stillness. Control. Deep reflection. Aura lives in the body, in motion, instinct, tension and release. If you try to develop them both without preparation, they’ll clash inside you like oil and fire." Lumberling narrowed his eyes, trying to picture it, his own body tearing itself apart from within. "Then how did you do it?" he asked. She gave a small, thoughtful smile and gently placed the stone down. "A secret technique. My family’s legacy." He leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on hers. "Teach me." "That’s the plan," she said softly, her tone unwavering. "You won’t survive both paths without it." Her gaze shifted to the river, its surface catching the morning light in soft glimmers. "It’s called the Concordia Cycle," she said. A hush settled between them, the name hanging in the air like the first ripple of magic. "It’s a rare art," she added quietly. "Most never master it. My ancestors created it centuries ago, born out of war, when survival meant breaking the old rules." Lumberling looked at her, thoughtful. "Do you think I can learn it?" She gave the faintest smile. "Maybe. We’ll see." ... Vaenyra guided him through the first stage. "Close your eyes," she instructed. "This is Phase One: Mana Intake." Lumberling obeyed, settling into the lotus position. "Breathe in slowly. Not into your lungs, into your center. Into the space where the Mana Heart would be. Feel the air, feel the world around you." He focused. In. Out. Deep. Slow. At first, nothing happened. Then... a flicker. A thread of warmth. He almost opened his eyes but held still. "Yes," she murmured. "That’s it. Mana is like water. You don’t grab it. You invite it." After a few minutes, Vaenyra’s voice shifted. "Now, Phase Two. Aura Circulation." Lumberling rose, eyes still closed, and moved into a series of martial stances, stances he’d long mastered as a Knight. "Now, let the mana you gathered move," Vaenyra said. "Don’t control it. Let it ride your muscles, your bones, your breath." He flowed through a sweep, a strike, a pivot. His body felt... strange. Charged. Balanced. "This is the Concordia Cycle," she said, watching him. "Stillness to gather. Movement to grow. You repeat the rhythm until your body learns to breathe with both hearts." Lumberling slowed his movements, a faint smile rising on his lips. ’So this is how it’s done...’ He didn’t realize how long he’d been practicing until the sun began to dip. By evening, Lumberling sat beneath the windmill, sweat clinging to his skin, his breath steady. He opened his palm, and a spark flickered. Not from rage. Not from instinct. But from will. Vaenyra watched from a distance, arms folded, expression unreadable. He grinned faintly. ’I’ll master both paths.’

Chapter 126 - 125: The Concordia Cycle

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