Chapter 39: Fate.
The commotion that had occurred seemed to have gone unnoticed by the rest of the house’s inhabitants, as none had come to check what had happened. Perhaps it was because the chaos Aric had witnessed didn’t reach the physical plane.
Serina now sat on the bed, sipping from a cup of water the prince had gotten for her, along with the blanket he had wrapped around her, as she had been shivering slightly.
"I’m fine now, and I know you’re itching to ask, so go ahead, Your Highness," Serina looked up at Aric.
Aric sighed. "Was I that obvious? Well, curiosity is eating me alive… Where were we? Who was that?"
As he fired off his questions, Serina let out a small laugh.
"I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning—there are eight classes of mages, and each class represents two circles. So, a first-class mage would be a one or two-circle mage, a second-class mage would be a three or four-circle mage, and so on."
Aric raised his hand, interrupting her. "You don’t have to go that far back. I know that much."
"Well, I’m sure you don’t know this, because not many do, but when a mage reaches the fourth class, something happens—they stand a very slight chance of being tied to things… entities known as the Weavers."
"That is what was speaking with me?" Aric muttered.
"Yes," Serina confirmed.
"What are they?"
"No one can be entirely sure, but think of them as ancient, powerful beings that exist outside the mortal plane. They control the threads of fate, weaving destinies and the flow of magic without direct intervention. Those chosen by a Weaver gain access to the Arcane Weave."
This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com
Serina went on to explain all she knew to Aric.
The Arcane Weave was a fundamental force of magic that connects life, death, chaos, and order. There were seven primary Weavers who governed it, each representing a different aspect of existence: Balance, Chaos, Order, Death, Life, Fate, and Time.
"The Weavers choose people to become their instruments, and I was chosen by the Weaver of Balance when I reached the 8th circle. The subspace we were in represents this balance."
"The raging storm was chaos, and the perfect quiet was order—that was the balance," Aric quickly caught on.
"Yes, exactly. While for you, it seems you were chosen by the Weaver of Fate," Serina paused, looking away. "You are no mage, it doesn’t make sense for that to happen, and Balance doesn’t seem to permit it either—you are an abnormality, Aric."
"For me, being connected to the Arcane Weave of Balance has made breaking through to the next circle difficult. For true balance to exist, there must be a give and take… a sacrifice and a reward. The moment you stepped into the circle, you became that sacrifice. In exchange for your life, I would have gained the power I needed… this is not what I wanted, but I couldn’t stop it. Only she could."
The prince had already guessed from Serina’s accurate recollection of his conversation with the entity, but he decided to ask regardless.
"So, you heard everything that happened?" he asked.
"I saw it too. In that subspace, everything is visible to me at all times."
Serina stood from the bed, walking slowly towards the prince until she was mere inches away.
"So I must ask, when you swung your arm over my shoulder instead of through my heart, was that decision made beforehand, or only after the Weaver of Balance gave you what you wanted?"
Aric remained silent, looking directly into the mage’s eyes. Then, with an unreadable whisper, he answered.
"Get some rest, Miss Marceli. We leave for the capital before sundown."
The prince turned around, walking away and exiting the mage’s room.
---
Hours passed, and the prince, followed by Lerai and Serina, had gone to the boarding terminal to take the ride to the capital. They now sat in the carriage, cloaked fully, as they rolled through the countryside.
Aric was lost in thought. In the last few hours, he had received an influx of information he struggled to comprehend. When he had first seen the panel, it felt nonsensical. What could "mana core awakened" possibly mean? He was a martial artist, not a mage… no one could be both. No one had ever been.
Perhaps, at that moment was when he thought back to the first words of the guide when they had first met: "This system has been designed to enhance your physical and magical abilities." At the time, Aric thought nothing of it. It didn’t seem to matter.
But after the guide clarified a few hours ago, it seemed that statement wasn’t just a loose phrase.
Aric had indeed awakened a mana core, as evidenced by his current status window.
-————-
Name: [Aric Valerian]
Title: [Forgotten Prince]
Race: [Human]
Level: [Martial Knight (1)] / [Tier 1 Mage (First Circle)]
Martial Mage Level: 1
Health (HP): [73/73]
Stamina: [73/73]
Ki: [25/100 (Restricted)]
Mana (MP): [10/10]
Attributes:
- Strength: [34]
- Agility: [27]
- Endurance: [45]
- Intelligence: [6]
-—————-
There were clear differences in his status window. First, the mage ranking system was added to his level, along with a mana stat. But the most important change was the "Martial Mage" level, because, according to the guide, that is what he had become.
This was a critical development—not just because Aric was now the first cultivator and mage, but because by being both, he had created something entirely new, a different kind of power altogether.
The guide explained that Aric had now merged ki and mana, creating something unheard of… but unimaginably formidable.
And even given this chance, something still irked Aric. Without the Martial God foundation, specifically designed to balance the chaos of such a fusion of ki and mana, this would not have been possible.
From the words of the guide on the day of their meeting about Aric having "magical abilities" to the system granting him the Martial God technique as a reward for his very first quest, it seemed as though, despite his ignorance, everything had been meticulously planned.
Though he hadn’t noticed it before, it felt as though his life, from the moment he regressed to the time he stepped into the magic circle hours ago, had been orchestrated by someone… something.
"The Weaver of Fate…" the prince whispered.