I turned my attention back to the Amoran, pressing my palm against its forehead.

  A faint golden light spread from my fingertips, seeping into the creature’s body.

  The wound on its chest slowly stopped bleeding, and its breathing stabilized. It was still weak, but it would survive.

  I stood up, dusting off my cloak.

  "For now, we watch," I said, speaking to both Raelis and Dren.

  "Marsil is interesting, yes. But we don’t know what side he’s on yet."

  Raelis frowned.

  "You think he might be an enemy?"

  "Not necessarily," I admitted. "But he’s powerful. And power always attracts attention."

  Dren let out a slow exhale, looking toward the direction Marsil had gone.

  "Then we should keep an eye on him."

  "Exactly," I said. "If he continues to grow stronger, he might be someone worth recruiting."

  -

  Marsil Pov

  The streets of Redglass Mountain City were as busy as ever, filled with the sounds of merchants calling out prices, the clinking of coins exchanging hands.

  After my unexpected battle with the Amorans, my mind was still reeling from the encounter.

  It wasn’t just the fight itself—though that had been valuable.

  It was the revelation that humanoid creatures capable of magic existed beyond human knowledge.

  "If it weren’t for those three gray-cloaked mages, I might never have learned about them."

  Endrel.

  That was the name of their leader.

  Strong enough that I knew if he had wanted to fight me, I would have lost.

  The thought didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t let it bother me for too long.

  The large stone building of the Redglass Magic Society stood before me, its many floors filled with scholars, merchants, and wandering mages seeking knowledge.

  I had originally left just to train, but I ended up fighting for my life and earning 200 grams of magic stone in the process.

  With the 200 grams I had earned, my total wealth was now around 230 to 240 grams of magic stone not an overwhelming sum, but still a solid amount.

  "At least I can afford something useful."

  The moment I entered the Society’s main hall, I ignored the other mages and headed straight for the bookshelves.

  I wasted no time searching for the book Endrel had mentioned

  the Maglianor Compendium.

  It took me a few minutes of searching, but eventually, I found the book.

  The Maglianor Compendium sat on a high shelf, bound in thick, dark leather.

  It looked old—very old. The spine was cracked, and the title was engraved in golden letters that had partially faded over time.

  I reached up and pulled it from the shelf, flipping it open to examine the first few pages.

  The writing inside was dense, filled with complex magical terminology and diagrams.

  From a quick glance, I could tell it covered a wide range of topics.

  And, as Endrel had promised, there was a section dedicated to the Amorans.

  "This should be useful."

  Satisfied, I turned to the counter where the Society’s book merchant handled transactions.

  A grizzled, elderly mage stood behind the desk, his long silver beard nearly touching the counter. He peered at me through half-moon glasses, then at the book in my hands.

  "The Maglianor Compendium, hmm?" he muttered.

  I nodded.

  "How much?"

  The old mage snorted.

  "You’ve got expensive taste, boy. That one’s 40 grams of magic stone."

  I didn’t hesitate.

  Reaching into my pouch, I pulled out the required amount and placed it on the counter.

  "Here."

  The mage raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t argue. With a flick of his fingers, the magic stones disappeared, absorbed into a small enchanted pouch at his waist.

  "Well, at least you’re willing to pay for real knowledge," he grumbled.

  He tapped the book once, and a faint glow of verification magic spread across it confirming that it was now officially mine.

  "Enjoy your reading," the old man said. "Just don’t come complaining if you don’t like what you find."

  I picked up the book and nodded.

  "I never complain about knowledge."

  As I stepped away from the counter, I exhaled slowly and ran my fingers over the book’s cover.

  40 grams of magic stone was a high price, but knowledge was always worth the cost.

  "If the Amorans have been hiding for this long, what else has been hidden from common knowledge?"

  The thought made my fingers tighten around the book.

  There was always more to learn.

  The Resting Nest was as quiet as ever when I returned.

  I didn’t waste time in the common area. Instead, I ordered food and drink to be sent to my room, then climbed the stairs.

  The moment I reached my door, I stopped, focused my senses, and scanned for disturbances.

  Nothing.

  The door was untouched. The faint magical mark I had left behind was undisturbed—meaning no one had entered while I was gone.

  "Good."

  I pushed open the door and stepped inside, feeling a strange sense of relief at returning to my own space.

  Sacril entered after me, his sharp yellow eyes scanning the room before settling in the corner near the bed.

  A few minutes later, my food arrived.

  It was simple—bread, roasted meat, and a light vegetable stew—but it was warm and filling.

  I tossed a portion to Sacril, who caught it effortlessly before settling down to eat.

  I didn’t rush through my meal, but I also didn’t waste time.

  The moment I finished, I pushed the tray aside and turned my full attention to the Maglianor Compendium.

  "Maglianor Compendium: Forgotten Races, Hidden Histories."

  I wasted no time.

  Flipping open the book, I quickly found the section on the Amorans and started reading.

  The first thing I noticed was that the authors were uncertain about much of what they wrote.

  The opening chapter clearly stated that all recorded knowledge of the Amorans—or Amolians, as they were sometimes called was incomplete.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Many truths remain hidden, and much of what is written is based on second-hand accounts, myths, and fragments of old texts."

  That alone told me that these beings had done an exceptional job at keeping themselves secret.

  But the book still contained valuable information.

  The first two chapters detailed their history and origins, though much of it was speculation.

  Some ancient scholars claimed the Amorans were once humans who had evolved separately, developing unique magical traits that set them apart.

  Others believed that they were a completely different race, one that had lived alongside humans for thousands of years but had remained hidden from sight.

  Another theory suggested that the Amorans were descendants of an ancient magical civilization that had been wiped out long ago, with only a small remnant of their people surviving in secret.

  I found this last theory especially interesting.

  "A lost civilization...?"

  That would explain why their magic seemed different from what I had encountered before.

  Their use of spells in battle had been similar to human magic, yet there was something strange about it.

  Something unfamiliar.

  "Could they have inherited forgotten magical techniques?"

  I made a mental note to pay closer attention the next time I encountered one.

  The book also described how the Amorans had remained hidden for so long.

  They lived in underground cities or in isolated regions, avoiding human settlements.

  They had a passive magical ability that made them appear human to anyone without magical energy.

  Even those with magical awareness could only sense their presence if they knew what to look for.

  That last part unnerved me the most.

  "How many Amorans have I walked past without noticing?"

  The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

  If they could blend in so well, it meant they could be anywhere—hidden in human cities, Mage Guilds, noble courts...

  The book hinted at something even more intriguing—the potential power of the Amorans.

  While they weren’t immortal, they supposedly had longer lifespans than humans.

  Their bodies were more resilient, allowing them to recover faster from injuries.

  Most importantly, their magic worked differently—allowing them to tap into energy sources that humans could not.

  "Is that why those three I fought were so strong?"

  I had defeated them, but they had been far from weak. If I had underestimated them, I could have easily lost.

  As I continued reading, I noticed a particular passage that caught my eye.

  "There are rumors of Amoran Mystics powerful individuals who possess abilities far beyond those of normal mages. These individuals are said to wield magic that bends reality itself, but little is known of them beyond scattered myths."

  That made me pause.

  The three I had fought had been called Amoran Mystics.

  Had I fought a rare elite class of their people without even realizing it?

  I closed the book and leaned back in my chair, deep in thought.

  What I had learned so far was valuable, but it also raised more questions than answers.

  "If the Amorans had been hiding for so long, why were they suddenly appearing now?"

  "Were they working alone, or did they have a greater plan?"

  "How many other races were hidden, waiting in the shadows?"

  Most importantly...

  "How does this knowledge help me grow stronger?"

  The Amorans had unique abilities, ones that seemed different from human magic.

  If I could understand their techniques, I might be able to adapt them into my own magic.

  "I need more information."

  I would have to seek out more books, more records—anything that could help me uncover the true depths of their abilities.

  This was no longer just about curiosity.

  - Eval Pov -

  I sat in my dimly lit office, the scent of parchment and ink filling the air as I flipped through the latest skirmish reports.

  Each document told a story of progress, however slow.

  Three small regions had finally been cleared of Amber’s mages, pushing our control further.

  It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  I let out a deep breath and leaned back in my chair.

  We needed more mages.

  The Morningstar Act was strong, but our numbers weren’t infinite.

  If Freedom of Amber continued to press us if Felix moved his pieces correctly—then sooner or later, we would be outmatched.

  Before I could dwell on the thought any longer, a knock sounded at my door.

  I glanced up.

  A voice—female, calm, and firm.

  "Enter," I said.

  The door swung open, and a figure stepped inside, wearing a gray cloak.

  I recognized her immediately.

  Not by face, not by name, but by affiliation.

  I stood from my chair, a slow smile forming on my lips.

  "I wasn’t expecting the Trinatrum to come to my doors," I said.

  The woman returned my gaze with a slight smile of her own.

  "We don’t often make house calls," she said smoothly, stepping forward.

  Her presence carried an air of quiet authority.

  I knew enough about her kind to be wary.

  The Trinatrum did not involve themselves in human politics, nor did they care about rebellions or noble struggles.

  For them to walk into my office unannounced meant one thing.

  Something had happened that concerned both of us.

  "One of our teams encountered Amorans," she said, her tone measured.

  "Close to Redglass Magic Society. Near the outskirts of town."

  I frowned slightly.

  "Amorans? That far in?"

  The Amorans weren’t known for being reckless.

  They moved in secrecy, always avoiding human detection unless absolutely necessary.

  For them to be near a major city.

  Something was off.

  "And?" I prompted.

  The woman nodded.

  "They have been dealt with."

  I exhaled, nodding.

  "Good. Then why are you here?"

  Her next words made me pause.

  "Because the one who killed them… was a man named Marsil."

  The room fell silent for a brief moment.

  Then, slowly, I sat back down, clasping my hands together.

  Marsil.

  I had been keeping track of him, though from a distance.

  Even after Elenora’s foolish attempt to eliminate him, I had chosen to watch rather than act.

  He had disappeared for a while, then reappeared in Redglass Magic Society under a false name.

  "Marsil..." I thought to myself.

  A name that meant nothing, yet now it was tied to an event that had drawn Trinatrum’s attention.

  I glanced back at the woman in gray.

  "You’re sure?"

  "Positive," she said.

  "Our team witnessed the aftermath. Three Amorans, he injured one killed one one of them escaped but caught. He fought them alone—and won."

  That was not a small feat.

  Even a single Amoran mage was a challenge for most.

  For Marsil to handle three…

  "I suppose they were not Mystics?" I asked.

  The woman shook her head.

  "No. But they weren’t weak either. His methods were effective. We were… impressed."

  That made me chuckle.

  Trinatrum did not impress easily.

  For them to say that meant Marsil had shown remarkable skill perhaps even something unexpected.

  "And now you’re here," I mused.

  "Yes," she said simply.

  I leaned back in my chair.

  Marsil was becoming… unpredictable.

  His growth was accelerating, but what was more concerning was that his actions were now attracting attention from beyond human politics.

  If he had simply remained a rogue mage, a wanderer gaining strength, then I would have left him alone.

  But now?

  He had stumbled into something bigger.

  "You’re worried about him?" I asked.

  The woman shook her head.

  "Not worried. Curious."

  Her eyes sharpened.

  "He’s strong. Stronger than expected. And if he keeps killing Amorans… he may find himself caught in a war he knows nothing about."

  I nodded.

  "And you want to know where he stands."

  The woman didn’t confirm it outright, but she didn’t deny it either.

  I smirked.

  "Marsil has no allegiance," I said. "He’s not one of mine. Not yet, anyway."

  "But you’re watching him."

  "Of course I am," I admitted. "He’s useful. And his growth reminds me of something…"

  The woman tilted her head.

  "Of what?"

  I didn’t answer immediately.

  Instead, I glanced at the reports on my desk, at the names of fallen soldiers, at the calculations of dwindling supplies.

  Then, I looked back at her.

  "Of someone who might change the rules."

  The woman studied me for a long moment.

  I could tell she was trying to read deeper into my words, to see if I had a plan for Marsil that I wasn’t sharing.

  And perhaps, I did.

  But for now, I only smiled.

  "If he fights more Amorans, will Trinatrum interfere?" I asked.

  "Not unless he gives us a reason to."

  "Good."

  I stood up, walking to the window of my office.

  Outside, the sky was darkening, and the city lights flickered in the distance.

  "Marsil is just a man. A talented one, yes. But still just a man."

  I turned back to her.

  "If he wants to enter your war, that’s his choice. But if he doesn’t… don’t try to force him."

  For the first time, the woman’s expression changed.

  She smiled just slightly.

  "We never force. We guide."

  I chuckled.

  "So do I."

  With that, she stepped back, giving a small nod.

  "This was a courtesy visit, Eval. Nothing more. But I imagine we will be seeing each other again."

  "No doubt," I said.

  She turned, walking toward the door.

  But before she could leave, I spoke again.

  "One last thing."

  She paused.

  "What do you personally think of Marsil?"

  For a moment, she considered the question.

  Then, she answered.

  "I think he has yet to decide what kind of mage he wants to be."

  With that, she was gone.

  And I was left alone, staring at the door, my mind already working through the possibilities.

  Marsil.

  How long until you realize that your path is not just your own?