The moment the silver portal closed behind them, silence blanketed the world.
Hope stepped into a realm unlike anything she had ever seen — a vast open plain stretching far beyond the horizon, where lavender grass swayed in rhythm with an unseen wind.
Glowing spirit motes floated through the air like drifting stars, and the sky itself shimmered a soft violet under the twin moons of Azure.
They were far from the chaos of Natalia City now.
"This place…" Hope whispered.
Duke Silver nodded as he walked ahead, his silver cloak trailing softly behind him.
"The Verdant Plateau. Spirit energy flows freely here, undisturbed and dense. It's the perfect ground for cultivation — untouched by demons, immortals, or the undead."
Rael flopped onto the grass, already relaxed. "And perfect for napping. Don't worry, Hope. We'll be safe here — until your sister decides to rewrite time again."
Hope smiled faintly, but her nerves trembled just beneath the surface. "So… this is where I start learning magic?"
Duke turned to her and nodded. "Yes. But not just any magic — you'll learn Spirit Magic."
He raised a hand, and spirit energy gathered at his palm — soft, blue-white light forming into a glowing sigil.
"Spirit Magic isn't just about casting spells. It's about harmonizing with the energy of the world. You must build your strength from the soul outward."
Hope leaned in as the sigil expanded, revealing five clear layers, each glowing with a different color.
"There are five foundational stages of Spirit Magic," Duke explained. "Each step deeper grants more control, more power — and longer life."
He pointed to the first glowing layer.
"Rank 1: Spirit Initiate. This is where you are now — learning to sense spirit energy, and channel it through your body. It's basic, but critical. Fail here, and you'll never rise."
The next layer glowed a brighter azure.
"Rank 2: Spirit Channeler. At this stage, you begin shaping energy into spells — actual attacks, barriers, or support techniques. You'll feel energy moving through your veins like fire and silk."
Then the third ring pulsed warmly.
"Rank 3: Spirit Adept. You'll refine your spells here, learn spirit inscriptions, and unlock your first real affinity — fire, wind, shadow, or even light. Most people spend years stuck here."
The fourth layer glowed gold.
"Rank 4: Spirit Disciple. Only a few reach this level. From here, your lifespan begins to extend — up to 500 years.
Your control becomes sharp, and your body begins to transform."
Finally, the fifth layer pulsed with power, almost humming with sound.
"Rank 5: Spirit Master. At this point, you'll be considered a true power in the Spirit Magic Society.
You'll be able to conjure advanced techniques, manipulate multiple affinities, and even create rudimentary constructs of energy."
Hope stared, wide-eyed. "What about Ranks 6 through 10?"
Duke lowered his hand. "You'll learn those when you're ready. For now, focus on sensing the spirit energy around you."
Hope nodded and sat on the soft grass, breathing deeply.
The air felt alive — not just with power, but with possibility.
"Close your eyes," Duke said gently. "And listen. Feel the spirit energy in the ai."
Hope sat cross-legged, the spirit-rich air swirling faintly around her fingertips.
She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath, just as Duke had instructed.
The first inhale brought warmth.
The second — weightlessness.
She began to feel it.
Threads of something unseen brushing her skin, circling her body, waiting. The spirit energy of the Verdant Plateau — calm and soothing.
"Focus," Duke's voice echoed nearby, calm and steady. "Draw it in, guide it to your center. Don't fight it."
Hope exhaled and visualized it — energy pouring into her chest, where a soft, silvery glow now pulsed beneath her skin.
Suddenly, she felt something click — a small surge, like a heartbeat skipping in time.
She gasped softly, her hands trembling. "I think… I felt it move."
"Good," Duke said, a rare smile forming on his face. "Now, try shaping it. We'll begin with a Basic Spirit Flame. It's a Rank 1 spell — harmless, but essential."
He raised his hand and conjured a small flame — pale blue and flickering gently above his palm.
"Focus the spirit energy into your palm. Imagine heat without pain, light without weight."
Hope concentrated, her brows furrowed. A spark flickered above her hand — faint, but real.
It flared once, then fizzled.
She stared. "Did I…?"
Rael clapped lazily from the grass. "You made a sparkle. Congratulations, Initiate Taylor. At this rate, you'll set a bush on fire in two or three decades."
Hope rolled her eyes. "Encouraging."
"Don't mind him," Duke said. "That was a solid start. You shaped energy. With practice, you'll hold the flame."
Hope nodded slowly, still staring at her hand. The faint warmth had lingered — comforting.
Rael stretched his arms. "Alright, since we're on the subject of power… Hope, you're learning Spirit Magic, but you should also take on the path of Immortal Cultivation.
It's different, older, and a lot more… difficult."
Rael continued,"There are fourteen stages, but you can only know the first five for now. Let's begin with…"
He held up a finger.
"Stage One: Body Refining. You strengthen your flesh, bones, muscles. Punching rocks, lifting trees, the basics. Boring, painful, but necessary."
A second finger.
"Stage Two: Spirit Sensing & Refining . You begin to sense the spiritual Qi in the surroundings, absorb into your body and then refine the spiritual Qi inside your body.
Think of it like tuning a broken harp. One bad string, and you explode."
Hope blinked. "That escalated."
Rael grinned. "Wait for it."
Third finger.
"Stage Three: Foundation Stage. You form a 'spiritual core.' It's like building a furnace inside your soul. Once it's stable, you can project energy, wield basic techniques, and be considered a cultivator."
Fourth finger.
"Stage Four: False Core Stage. You simulate a stronger core. This is where cocky cultivators think they're invincible. Most die here."
He raised a fifth.
"Stage Five: True Core Stage. You form an actual, stable core of energy. Congratulations — now you're a real pain to kill."
Hope blinked, processing. "And… this is just the beginning?"
Rael leaned back and grinned. "Absolutely."
Hope sat with her knees bent, hands cupped before her.
The energy around her felt alive now — not just something to reach for, but something to command.
A tiny flame appeared in her palm, soft blue and barely whispering against the breeze. It danced, wobbled — but it didn't vanish.
"You've stabilized it," Duke said, nodding with approval. "Hold it longer next time, shape it."
Hope beamed. "I didn't think I could actually do it."
Rael lay sprawled on a sun-warmed stone nearby, one arm over his eyes.
"Well, don't let it go to your head," he said lazily.
"Now you've got enough magic to toast a marshmallow. Maybe."
Hope snorted. "I'll toast you."
"Fiery." He sat up, eyes glinting. "Speaking of fire, I've got something more dangerous for you. Something forbidden."
Hope's grin faded slightly. "What kind of dangerous?"
Rael stood, brushing dirt from his robe. His tone lowered, unusually serious.
"It's called the Heaven Devouring Mantra.
A technique from the lost ruins of an Ancient Immortal.
It draws spirit energy directly into your core, raw and unrefined. Most people can't handle it. But you…" He paused, eyeing her carefully. "You might be able to."
Hope glanced at Duke, who offered a slow nod. "If you can control it, it will let you absorb and refine energy faster than anyone else."
Rael approached, placing two fingers on her forehead.
"Focus. And repeat."
"From void to flame, from flame to storm, devour the skies, and devour the heavens."
Hope recited the mantra.
As the last syllable echoed from her lips, something inside her shifted — a deep, visceral pull from within her chest. The spirit energy around her shuddered.
Her eyes snapped open, glowing faintly for a moment.
Then — it passed.
Rael exhaled. "Well. Either you'll become a legend… or you'll implode dramatically in the next few years."
Hope chuckled weakly. "Comforting."
The laughter died as the wind shifted. The spirit particles in the air trembled.
Duke stood, instantly alert.
"...Something's wrong."
Rael's eyes narrowed. "The air's too thick. Do you feel that?"
A distant rumble echoed across the plateau.
Then — space tore open like cloth.
A crimson rift appeared, bloodied and pulsing with hatred.
From within it stepped a towering figure — covered in crimson-scaled armor, six jagged horns curving back from its head.
It's eyes like pits of flame.
Clawed hands stained with the essence of dozens of souls.
Hope staggered backward, her spirit flame extinguished instantly.
Rael's voice turned grim. "Rank 7. That's no ordinary demon."
Duke Silver's eyes flared.
"That's a Demon General."
The demon's voice rasped like stone grinding against bone.
"Hope Taylor… by the decree of the Crimson Abyss, you must die."