"Why am I here?" Cyrus groaned, covering his nose.

It was early in the morning. There he stood before a bush with blue-tinted leaves, which he discovered on his way to relieve himself. It was growing bright orange-yellow berries on its red branches, which emitted a foul-smelling odor, not unlike the smell of rotten sulfur. Occasionally, these berries oozed a droplet of yellow juice from their centers that caused him to gag.

This is supposed to be edible?! Cyrus thought incredulously.

He quickly consulted Leal's notebook. And there it was: the noxberry, foul smell and all. But... should Cyrus really try it?

Yes. With a hint of hesitation, he donned a pair of gloves from his pack and plucked a berry. Bracing himself, Cyrus brought it close to his face, only to gag and drop the berry.

"Ugh, It smells like dumpster garbage."

Better triple-check the notebook. Better yet, make it a double-triple-check. Eventually, Cyrus clenched his jaw and drew his nerve before popping a new berry into his mouth. It exploded, attacking his taste buds with a tangy and sweet flavor.

"Oh? It's not so bad," Cyrus said, rechecking the notebook. "Tastes like tangerines." He plucked another and waved it at Bird. "Want to try one? Come on, it's not that bad."

The said canary was a notable distance away, only to fly even further once called upon.

"Alright. Be that way."

Shrugging, Cyrus popped a few more berries before heading off to camp. These past few days, he had begun his mornings training his mana shaping. This would continue while the trio moved toward the nearby mountains. With the constant traveling, he had to read along the way while making sure to keep an eye on Latriaen, lest the former end up in some horror scenario. Finally, in the evenings, the Ork would make Cyrus practice spear techniques until the latter nearly collapsed from exhaustion. And while Cyrus wasn't too keen on this schedule, there were some improvements in his shaping, so he couldn't really complain.

Once he entered the camp, he found Latriaen whittling a branch with one of his long and sharp fingernails.

"What delayed you?" he said, tossing the branch into the fog.

Cyrus furrowed his brows. "What makes you think I was stopped?"

He watched Latriaen grab a handful of dead leaves and crush them, the crackling barely audible to the former.

"You heard my footsteps?" Cyrus asked, shocked.

He was right to be. Cyrus took extra care to avoid being heard during his alone time. Yet even then, his master was able to hear him regardless. How horrifying. It made Cyrus wonder if it were simply his footsteps... or everything else. Of course, he didn't ask, as he would never find peace if he heard the wrong answer.

"I found some noxberries and tried them," Cyrus said, changing the subject.

"Then do something about that rotten stench coming from your mouth," Latriaen gruffed, standing up. "And get ready for your training."

A few minutes later, Cyrus was led to a clearing where they stood in the center. Bird, being Bird, perched itself on Cyrus' head.

"Tell me," Latriaen asked, his blazing gaze scanning the area. "What do you see around you?"

Cyrus raised his brows and looked around. What was he supposed to find? All he could see was nothing but brush, wood, and dead leaves... Oh.

"I see a lot of kindling."

Latriaen nodded. "Smart. Today, we're going to try something different." He moved to one of the pines, tore down its lower branches, and tossed them into the center of the clearing. "Go and plant these branches in pairs to form a circle."

And so Cyrus did. The branches were arranged in pairs, leaving just enough space for a grown man to brush through the pine needles when passing through. But only barely. Once the setup was complete, the two stood within the circle.

"You will focus your flames and avoid... what's the word, 'engulfing' these branches." Latriean cupped one hand in front of Cyrus, nearly closing it. "And remember, if you're having difficulty visualizing the shape, use your hands to mimic your thoughts."

"Alright." Cyrus furrowed his brow and began channeling his mana. He visualized a cone small enough to squeeze between the branches. Then, he attacked.... and promptly failed. The pine needles were the first to light up before the branches flared in a grand fire display.

"Again," Latriaen said, unsurprised.

And once more, another pair of branches succumbed to flames.

"Again."

More and more pairs were torched under Cyrus' attempt until the final two remained.

As he stood before them, he bitterly laughed. "Practice makes perfect, I guess. But I was hoping becoming a fire apprentice would speed up the process."

For once, Latriaen snorted as if stifling a laugh. "It's in the name. You're an apprentice, and your experience will shape you into a master."

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"Then what am I aiming for?"

Latriaen remained in silent contemplation as his gaze dimmed.

"I'll show you," he eventually said, leaving the circle and tearing off more branches. "Come, boy, set them up again."

Soon, another circle was set up. Cyrus was told to remain outside this time while he watched Latriaen standing within.

"Remember this, boy. I'm only going to show you this once."

The half-ork's gaze swept the circle before he closed his eyes. His breath became calm, almost nonexistent, as he balled his fists and brought them to his chest.

Then, Latriaen moved. With a sudden punch forward, a flame erupted from his fist, no different from Cyrus' feeble attempts at an attack, blasting forward and threading between the branches without igniting a single pine needle.

But he didn't stop there. Dreadlocks swaying, Latriaen punched his other fist to the right, achieving the same flawless result. What came next was akin to a dance born of flames. Under Cyrus' astonished gaze, the Ork moved faster and faster, incorporating his flames, jettisoning flames just outside his moccasins.

The sight gobsmacked Cyrus. How was he supposed to learn that? A ridiculous thought. The man had even kept his eyes closed while swiftly switching from one target to another. Meanwhile, Latriaen kept at it. He used more and more mana and strength, spewing flames meters long without so much as a sign of trouble.

However, the brighter and larger the flames, the more Bird was frightened. The canary eventually scattered to fly overhead. Had Bird never gotten over being in those flames during Cyrus' fight with the Vodnik? It had been a few days now.

Latriaen continued regardless, using stronger and broader flames that somehow curved around the very branches themselves. Only when the heat became unbearable for Cyrus did the Ork stop.

"This is what you must strive for," Latriaen declared, closing his flaming fist and revealing his searing gaze.

Cyrus couldn't help but reveal his awestruck emotions to his teacher. Despite Latriaen's brutish appearance and demeanor, he was remarkably nimble and dexterous. His movements reminded Cyrus of the dance between the fire serpent and the ice warrior, if not exceeded it.

As Latriaen stepped out, he pointed to the circle. "Again."

At his teacher's command, Cyrus took a deep breath and stepped back into the circle. Mana coursing through his arm, he envisioned himself becoming one with his runes and accomplishing his goal.

But dreams could only be achieved through effort, not given freely. Once again, the pair lit into flames. Yet, Cyrus wasn't disappointed at the sight because what he saw was the actual progress of his efforts. Sure, it was marginal at best, but it was there.

However, Latriaen showed neither disappointment nor expectation.

"Starting today, you will continuously cast your flames during practice and as we travel to our destination. Understood?"

Cyrus was to ask about his 'limited stock' of mana crystals, but eventually relented. Perhaps his teacher had an idea to circumvent such a problem.

Latriaen with a hint of satisfaction in his gaze. "And remind me, boy. How many fire runes do you carry? How many are you making every day?"

Would Latriaen be annoyed that Cyrus was holding back on creating fire runes? He was going to find out.

"I, uh, only have the one hundred fifty," Cyrus said, rubbing his head. "And I don't plan to create more until my light domain reaches apprenticeship. But that will be soon! Just a few more days, and I'll start making more."

Latriaen frowned slightly but nodded nonetheless. "Light magic is indeed powerful. There are stories among my people of how it can be just as powerful as flames." A thought crossed his head. "Boy, were you born with more domains?"

Cyrus turned quiet. Should he tell his teacher about his spatial domain? He considered it, searching for any reason not to. What was Latriaen going to do? Out him to everyone? It's not like the Ork was sociable, even moving outside the city despite being an arcanesmith. Moreover, to this day, Cyrus has not manifested a single spatial rune, rendering it dead in the water. So, why hold back? Maybe Latriaen could see some worth in Cyrus that he could eventually cash in on.

"I possess the laws of life, fire, and light," —he then coughed— "Oh, and also spatial."

As expected, Latriaen gave Cyrus a once-over, his expression shifting. Was it a mix of surprise and curiosity? It was difficult to discern.

"Interesting," he said. "Have you started your training?"

Cyrus shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "I wish. But there's a problem. I... my insights for the domain aren't high enough."

"Truly?" Latriaen gave him another once-over. His gaze then went upward, piercing through the large pines and into the gray, hazy skies.

"You're missing the fundamental understanding of how the law operates," he eventually said. "Without grasping the underlying principles, you won't be able to harness its power."

Cyrus frowned, confused. "But I don't even understand how my other laws work."

Latriaen shook his head. "Is that so? Then, what is fire?"

Cyrus hesitated. "Energy, heat, and reaction?"

Latriaen nodded as if Cyrus had stated the obvious. "And light?"

Now, that was tricky. Had this been a few months ago, Cyrus would have regurgitated what he learned from school. Something about electromagnetic radiation and wavelengths. But now? With the introduction of magic, it was all thrown out the window—maybe, possibly.

But Cyrus felt he was right to be confused. For instance, what exactly was the 'purify' ability wielded by light grandmasters?

"Energy," Cyrus eventually replied, unable to provide a definitive response.

Latriaen didn't respond directly but posed another question, "And what is life?"

Another impossible question, one that had stumped men and philosophers for millennia, and the twenty-year-old Cyrus did not believe he could ever provide an answer, even if given a thousand years.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Latriaen shook his head. "You do." He then pointed at Cyrus. "How do you breathe? How do you think? How do all the cells in your body carry out their tasks so you can face another day?" Latriaen clenched his hand into a fist. "You might not have the answer right now, but your body does, or else you wouldn't exist."

"My body... holds the answers? Was it really that simple?"

The revelation slowly shook Cyrus to his core. Indeed, his body held answers that he needed to uncover somehow. But how? Should he examine his body with a fine-tooth comb, searching for hidden secrets? Was there some magitek device that could do that?

Cyrus turned an expectant gaze to his teacher, only to be ignored. Instead, Latriaen tore off more branches and tossed them into the circle.

"Hurry and set them up. You still have plenty of training ahead," he commanded.

Oh, okay...

Silently, Cyrus began arranging branches. His mind swirled with thoughts and possibilities on how to 'figure out himself.' With his teacher's help, Cyrus' shoulders appeared raised as if an invisible weight had been lifted.

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