I gasped, my back arching as Lysara's mana enveloped me like a tide of liquid lightning. It poured through my veins, wrapping around the corrupted energy, containing it, forcing it into submission. The agony that had been tearing through my chest subsided into a dull throb.

  "That's it," Lysara hissed through clenched teeth. "Let it flow. Don't fight it."

  I tried to follow her direction, loosening my mental grip on the chaos inside me. The moment I did, something changed. The foreign mana—her mana—mingled with my own, creating a current that swept through my system. The corruption still burned, but differently now. Not like wildfire consuming everything in its path, but like embers contained in a hearth.

  A strange warmth bloomed in my chest. The raw, corrupted energy beneath my skin merged with my natural flow, creating something new. Something stable. For the first time since absorbing that damn core, I felt... calm.

  "I think..." I muttered, my vision swimming with spots of blue and white. "I think it's working."

  My muscles uncoiled, tension draining from my body as I sank back into the bed. The relief was overwhelming, washing over me in waves.

  Too much.

  I couldn't hold on. Couldn't keep my eyes open. The exhaustion I'd been fighting crashed down all at once, and with a soft exhale, I slipped into darkness.

  I woke to sunlight filtering through thin curtains, painting golden streaks across unfamiliar walls. Everything felt heavy, my limbs, my eyelids, even the air around me seemed thicker somehow. The scent of herbs and old wood filled my nostrils, but it was distant, like I was perceiving everything through a layer of fog.

  With effort, I shifted in the bed. My body ached, but not with the searing pain I'd grown accustomed to. This was different. Duller. The kind of soreness that comes after survival rather than during the fight.

  "You really pushed yourself, didn't you?"

  Lysara sat in a wooden chair beside the bed, her hair tied back in a loose braid. She looked exhausted—dark circles under her eyes, skin a shade paler than before—but her presence remained steady, grounding.

  I rubbed my temples, trying to piece together fragmented memories. "What happened?" My voice came out as a rasp, barely audible.

  Lysara straightened, her expression shifting from casual concern to something more clinical. "We managed to stabilize the corrupted mana for now, but your body is still dying from it. The rate is slow, though, incredibly slow."

  I sat up slowly, wincing as my muscles protested. "So what now? I just wait until this thing eventually kills me?"

  Lysara's expression hardened. "No. We train." She leaned forward, her eyes locked with mine. "Your problem isn't just the corruption, it's your lack of control. You've got power, but you're wielding it like a child swinging a greatsword."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered.

  She ignored my sarcasm. "We need to establish a foundation first. Corrupted or not, mana follows patterns. It responds to focus, intent, and rhythm." She stood, walking to a worn leather bag in the corner. "There are exercises we can start with, basic flows that even children learn."

  "I'm not a child."

  "No, but your mana control is worse than one," she shot back, pulling out a small wooden box. Inside were various crystals, each glowing faintly with different colors. "We'll start with meditation, twice daily, dawn and dusk. These are anchor stones. They help establish resonance points in your body."

  She handed me a pale blue crystal. It hummed against my palm, vibrating slightly.

  "You'll hold this over your heart while focusing on your breath. Inhale for four counts, hold for seven, exhale for eight. The corrupted mana in your system responds to your heartbeat, we need to train it to follow a controlled rhythm instead of your emotional spikes."

  I turned the crystal in my hand. "That's it? Just breathing?"

  "That's step one," she said sharply. "Step two is circulation drills. You'll trace pathways through your body, guiding small amounts of mana from your core outward. Start with your arms, they're easiest to visualize. Once you've mastered that, we move to more complex patterns."

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  She grabbed my wrist, her fingers pressing against specific points. "Feel these? Mana nodes. When you practice, you'll push your energy through them in sequence. The order matters, like stringing instruments, hit them wrong and everything sounds like chaos."

  "And this will help with the corruption?"

  "It won't cure it," she said bluntly. "But it will teach you to contain it. Right now your heart is pumping corrupted mana through your system without direction. With practice, you can create barriers, channels that direct the flow away from vital organs."

  I stared at the crystal in my palm, feeling its subtle vibration. "So what exactly is corrupted mana? Where does it even come from?"

  Lysara's expression darkened. She set the box down and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "It's forbidden knowledge. Has been for centuries."

  "Yet here I am, filled with the stuff."

  She sighed. "Corrupted mana isn't natural. It's what happens when regular mana is twisted by extreme negative emotions or intent. Think of it like... poisoning a well. The water's still there, but it's been changed into something toxic."

  "But these cores, like the one I found..."

  "Those are worse," she said, her voice dropping. "Corrupted cores form in places where immense suffering has occurred. Battlefields where thousands died in agony. Torture chambers. Mass graves." Her fingers tapped against her arm. "The pain and despair soak into the earth, festering for decades, sometimes centuries. Eventually, it crystallizes, pure suffering given physical form."

  I felt sick. "And people use this?"

  "Used to. During the Third Mana War, commanders would force these cores on their soldiers, creating berserkers who could tear through enemy lines. One corrupted soldier could kill dozens before their body failed them." Her eyes met mine, unflinching. "Their flesh would literally rot while they fought. Organs liquifying. Bones crumbling. But they kept going until there was nothing left but animated corruption."

  I swallowed hard. "That's what's happening to me?"

  "Would be, if your heart hadn't become the new core." She pushed off the wall, pacing slowly. "Normal corruption spreads outward. Yours is cycling through you, strangely stable."

  "Can I get rid of it?" I asked, the question that had been burning inside me. "Remove it somehow?"

  Lysara stopped pacing. "If you'd come to me before it synchronized with your heart? Maybe. I could have extracted it, though the process itself might have killed you." She shook her head. "Now? It's rooted too deep. Your heart and the corruption are one entity."

  "So I'm screwed."

  "Not necessarily. If you can build enough normal mana—I mean significantly more than the corrupted amount—you might be able to dilute it, push it back. Not eliminate it, but contain it to a manageable level."

  I let that sink in. "Why are you helping me with this? Forbidden knowledge, dangerous patient, seems like more trouble than it's worth."

  Something flickered in her eyes, recognition, perhaps. Or calculation. Then it was gone, replaced by an easy smile.

  "It's cause Cael asked," she said simply.

  I glanced at Cael, who'd been leaning against the doorframe, listening silently. His expression gave nothing away.

  Somehow, I didn't believe that was the whole reason.

  Over the next few days, I dove into what Lysara called "the absolute basics that even children know." My days started at dawn with meditation, holding that humming crystal over my heart while counting breaths. By mid-morning, I'd move to circulation exercises, channeling tiny amounts of mana through specific pathways in my arms, then legs, then torso. Afternoons were spent on theory, with Lysara drilling me on the fundamentals of mana flow while Cael occasionally watched from the doorway with that infuriating smirk of his.

  "You need to visualize the energy as something tangible," Lysara instructed during our third session. "Imagine it as water flowing through pipes, or light traveling through crystal."

  I did as she said, focusing on the subtle warmth beneath my skin. At first, it felt like trying to grab smoke with my bare hands. But gradually, I began to sense it, threads of energy snaking through my body, responding to my will. The corrupted mana was harder to direct—thicker, more resistant—but even that became marginally easier with practice.

  Apparently, Cael had filled Lysara in on my supposed "memory loss." Smart move on his part, it explained my ignorance of even the most basic mana concepts. I played along, of course, asking questions that someone who'd grown up in this world would know the answers to.

  "It's fascinating watching you learn," Lysara commented one evening. "Most people have these concepts ingrained since childhood. You're approaching it with a completely blank slate."

  If only she knew.

  What surprised me most was how quickly my body adapted. My control improved dramatically after just three days of consistent practice. The System, which had been unnervingly silent lately, finally showed a notification one morning:

  At least it was working, even if it wasn't talking much. The silence worried me more than the glitches had.

  On the fifth day, Cael approached me as I finished my morning routine.

  "You need to pick up the pace," he said bluntly, leaning against the doorframe. "Academy enrollment starts in a few weeks. You'll need more than basic control by then."

  I blinked. "Academy? What academy?"

  Cael's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did you forget I'm helping you out so that you can be of use to me? I have something I want you to do at the academy, and I will be enrolling you there."

  I stared at him. "I 'remember' nothing about myself or anything, to be exact, Cael. How exactly am I supposed to fit in at some academy?"

  "Don't worry about that," he replied with a casual wave. "I'll create a fake identity record, forge the necessary bloodline documentation, and arrange for you to be 'adopted' by an associate of mine. The paperwork will be flawless."

  I just stared at him, wondering what the hell I'd gotten myself into.