The cow carriage rattled forward, its wooden wheels grinding the dust of the village path into fine powder.
Inside the carriage, a suffocating silence had reigned until they crossed the boundary of the Ahmed Families territory. The moment the escort guard turned back, the silence shattered.
Through the small window, the sprawling 'Stardust Coffee' plantations stretched to the horizon. A glimpse of the immense wealth held by the Ahmed Family.
Every tree in that orchard was a gold mine; the coffee harvested here was not merely a drink, but a magical remedy—capable of calming a chaotic mind and restoring small amounts of 'Prana'.
Seeing this opulence from the outside, the fire of envy ignited in Aspia's chest. She could no longer hold her tongue.
"Mother," she gritted her teeth. "Why must we perform this painful ritual again and again? Grandma did it, you are doing it... why don't we just end that nuisance once and for all? I hate him! If I had the power, I would tear him into pieces right now!"
Shirin looked at her daughter with weary eyes. Her left hand was soaked in blood, the flesh of her shoulder raw and exposed.
She asked in a deceptively calm voice, "Are you thinking of killing that boy?"
"Yes, Mother! I don't want to see you suffer anymore. I just want to..."
SLAP!
The sound of the slap reverberated inside the small carriage. Aspia froze, her hand clutching her stinging cheek. More than the pain, the shock of her mother's sudden attack stunned her.
"Do you think killing him is that easy?" Shirin hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Foolish girl! Do I need to teach you the laws of creation and the lessons of 'Mastery' all over again?"
Aspia lowered her head. In her mother's eyes, she saw a terrifying mix of reverence and fear. Shirin leaned closer, whispering so the driver wouldn't hear.
"The Creator sent humans with two entities—the Soul and the Body. Man is the supreme creation, thus his soul possesses infinite potential. A human can 'Master' anything—war, cooking, speaking the truth—everything is a form of Mastery. And at the root of it all lies the Soul."
Shirin pointed a finger out the window. A fox was skulking behind a bush.
"Look. Every living being is born with a specific amount of 'Soul Mastery'. Insects are born with 3-5%. Birds, dogs—they get 7-10%. And intelligent animals like foxes or wolves are born with 9-12%. That is their natural limit."
She paused, looking deep into her daughters' eyes.
"But... in the laws of nature, exceptions occur. If an animal can surpass the limits of its species, if it can awaken its soul—it ceases to be a mere beast. It transforms into a 'Magical Beast'."
"Like those green butterflies," Shirin said. "A normal butterfly's mastery never exceeds 2%. But these specific ones broke that barrier. Thus, healing power was born in their wings."
"Healing power?" Aspia gasped.
Suddenly, Tasnim, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, stirred. With trembling hands, she pulled a small box from her satchel.
Opening it—
Three exquisitely beautiful green butterflies fluttered their wings. A soft, soothing green glow radiated from them.
Tasnim's eyes filled with tears. "I raised them for the last twelve days. Mother, you told me to find magical creatures... I didn't know they would be useful for you. They are so beautiful, aren't they?"
Tasnim saw beauty. She saw life. She wanted to ease her mother's pain, but her heart bled for her tiny friends.
But Aspia?
She saw no beauty. She saw only 'Medicine'.
Without a word, Aspia snatched the butterflies from the box.
Tasnim cried out, "No, sister!"
It was too late.
Aspia crushed the delicate creatures within her fist. The green glow was extinguished, replaced by a thick, glowing paste.
Tears rolled down Tasnim's cheeks. Her twelve days of love, crushed in a second.
Aspia smeared the paste over her mother's open wound.
"There is no place for butterflies in a world of wolves, Tasnim," she said cruelly.
Shirin closed her eyes in relief as the burning sensation subsided. She began again.
"Just like animals, humans have limits. A normal human child is born with 5% Soul Mastery. By adolescence, it reaches 13%. And the absolute limit for a commoner is 15-16%. Maybe 20% at most."
Shirin's voice turned grave.
"20% is a massive Barrier. It is almost unbreakable. But those born with special blood or talent can shatter this wall and step into 21%. Only then does the 'Soul Realm' awaken within them. Their bodies begin to produce 'Prana' in every cell. They become Masterers."
Shirin let out a mocking laugh.
"However, dreaming of breaking this wall and actually breaking it are two different things. For 'Norms' like you... such dreams are nothing but foolishness."
Aspia was absorbing her mother's words, but suddenly she paused. Her sharp mind caught a slip.
"Mother... you said, 'for Norms like you'?" Aspia frowned. "You didn't say 'us'. You said 'you'. Does that mean... you exclude yourself?"
Shirin looked at her daughter in surprise, then a proud smile curved her lips.
She put a finger to her lips. "Even walls have ears, Aspia."
She whispered, "Yes. I am a Masterer. Rank 6."
Both sisters were thunderstruck. Their mother! A Masterer!
"I could have had a much better life. But under the orders of the Clan Elders and bound by a special vow, I have remained in this secret mission."
Aspia seethed with rage. "Mother! You are Rank 6, yet you live as a maid? And a fool like Ruhan gets the opportunity at age 15? This is injustice! Why don't we get it?"
Shirin's face turned into stone.
"Fool? You think he is a fool?" Shirin sneered. "We made him a fool. This is a plan fifty years in the making."
She looked outside, as if seeing Azgaar in the distance.
"His father, Azgaar... he was also our target once. But when he tore through our nets and escaped, he became a Rank 3 Monster! Terrifying! A true nightmare! A wolf hiding in sheep's clothing."
She stopped. Fear flickered in her eyes.
"And Ruhan? If we hadn't stopped him... he would have awakened his 'Soul Realm' at the age of seven. His potential is a thousand times greater than Azgaar's. If he wakes up... if he breaks that 20% barrier even once... Shitapur village will turn to ash."
A cold shiver ran down Aspia and Tasnim's spines. This father and son of the Ahmed family were not humans; they were monsters wearing human skin.
Tasnim felt a pang of sorrow for Ruhan. Poor boy! He was innocent, yet they turned him into a beast in a cage.
Aspia mumbled, "He must die... or none of us will survive."
Shirin sighed.
"Forget it. For now, we must think of our own survival. We have a total of 8000 'Baowa'. Fixing my fingers will cost 2000 each. I can only save four fingers. Who knows what will happen to my shoulder..."
The cow carriage trundled on, kicking up dust as it headed toward the den of a village healer. Behind them lay their sins, and ahead lay an uncertain future.
✦✦✦
12:00 PM.
The Central Administrative Building—'Shitapur Palace'.
This was no mere building; it was the pulsating heart of the village's power. Its architecture was not modern, but ancient and gothic. The walls were constructed of gray granite, etched with the history of centuries-old wars. From the ceiling hung a massive crystal chandelier, scattering light like diamonds.
The vast council room was drowned in silence. The heavy air smelled of power, politics, and expensive incense.
In the center sat a massive, long table. Crafted from priceless mahogany, its smoothness spoke of master craftsmanship. Seven seats on each side, fourteen in total.
One at the far end. And at the head—a massive, throne-like chair. This was no ordinary wood; it was carved from rare 'Blackwood' imported from the distant 'Farlands', with dragon scales engraved so realistically they seemed alive.
On that throne sat the Village Leader—Humayun Kabir.
His face bore a steely resolve. A broad chest, wide shoulders, clad in a regal dark blue Sherwani. He was deep in thought. His fingers tapped impatiently on the table—Tick... tick... tick...
Around him sat the top Elders of Shitapur. Delal, Chaprashe, Biswas, and leaders of other influential Families. Everyone waited for the Leader's verdict. But beneath the silence, a cold war of egos raged.
Suddenly—
A conflict broke out like a stone thrown into a calm pond.
A leader of the Biswas family hurled an insult at a member of the Chaprashee family. In moments, words turned into shouts. The situation grew aggressive, bordering on bloodshed.
Humayun Kabir did nothing. He didn't move, didn't look. He simply glanced sideways at the man sitting to his right.
Unlike the others in common attire, this man wore ceremonial White-Gold Robes. He wore thin-framed glasses. His long, ash-black hair was tied neatly at the back, secured with a clip.
The clip was made of golden wood, carved with ancient designs. His entire existence was wrapped in a mysterious silence.
As the conflict reached its peak, this mysterious man let out a sigh.
Humayun Kabir waited no longer. Like a judge, he picked up the wooden gavel placed before him.
He struck the round wooden plate on the table with force.
THWACK!
The sound was not loud. But the moment the hammer hit—
An unimaginable, heavy Aura exploded from Humayun Kabir's body.
The air pressure multiplied a hundredfold instantly. It felt as if the roof was collapsing on everyone's heads.
Even the seasoned elders around the table trembled. It became hard to breathe.
"Rank 3!" someone whispered in terror.
"What a terrifying aura! Is this the true power of a Rank 3 Masterer?"
Everyone shrank back into their seats in fear. Pin-drop silence.
Humayun knew waiting was no longer an option. He broke the silence.
"Today..."
Before he could finish, the massive doors of the council room swung open.
Two tall figures entered.
The Academy Headmaster Rasel Cheng and the Village's North Star—Sadik Kabir.
Sadik wore the special uniform of the Academy's Top Student. His gait carried a regal elegance, mirroring his father's dominance.
He walked straight to Humayun Kabir and bowed low.
"Apologies for the delay, Father."
A faint smile of pride touched Humayun Kabir's grave face. "Sit, Sadik."
Sadik and the Headmaster took the two empty seats at the far end of the table.
Humayun Kabir placed his hands over his chest and belly, tracing the sign of an 'Inverted Triangle' in the air.
He chanted in a deep voice, "Praise the Lady."
Everyone echoed in unison.
The meeting began.
Humayun Kabir announced in a thunderous voice from his seat.
"After 179 years, today I am reinstating an old rule."
He looked at everyone.
"From today, a new law is effective in Shitapur Village. Henceforth, whenever a Masterer ranks up, the Village Council or 'Treasury' will give them a Spirit equivalent to their achieved rank."
A murmur ran through the room. Free Spirits! This was a massive announcement.
Buying spirits from the Treasury was incredibly expensive. A simple Rank 6 spirit cost 5,000 to 7,000 'Baowa'; getting one for free was a colossal blessing.
"Secondly," Humayun continued. "The second phase of the SME Exams is approaching—the Physical Exam. Battlegrounds, weapons, healers—keep everything ready. The Treasury remains open. A century after that terrible war, Shitapur Village finally possesses enough resources to nurture its children."
Then the discussion turned to external affairs.
An elder from the Chaprashee family stood up to report.
"Lord, the audacity of Ratanpur has crossed limits. They are encroaching on the borders of our strategic 'Resource Zone'—the 'Kaloshal Forest'. They dare claim that every poisonous vine and rare herb in that forest is their ancestral property!"
A frown creased Humayun's forehead. He ordered from his seat.
"Kaloshal is our lifeblood. Deploy two more Rank 5 Masterer guards there immediately. If anyone from Ratanpur crosses the border, ensure they have no path to return."
The meeting was adjourned.
The elders left, whispering amongst themselves. The room emptied.
Only three remained.
Humayun Kabir, his son Sadik Kabir, and that man in the white-and-gold robes—Azgaar Ahmed.
Sadik rose from the far end and took a seat closer to his father and Azgaar.
Azgaar remained still, that familiar, mysterious smile playing on his lips.
Humayun Kabir looked proudly at Sadik, then turned to Azgaar with a tone dripping with mockery.
"Azgaar, my blood... my son has touched Rank 4 at just 19 years old. He is our future. And your son? I heard he still pumps his own bathwater from the tube-well like a servant? Ha ha!"
A smile of pity and ridicule appeared on both Humayun and Sadik's faces. The wretched state of the Ahmed heir was a source of entertainment for them.
Azgaar paused.
He was not insulted, nor did he get angry. Instead, his eyes danced with amusement behind his glasses. He laughed out loud.
"Ha ha ha!"
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Small chores keep the body fit, Humayun. Don't worry about that. Everyone does what they are meant to do."
Humayun was slightly confused by this nonchalant attitude. Did the insult not land?
"Anyway," Azgaar changed the topic. "I brought some gifts."
He pulled a velvet pouch and a leather suitcase from his side and placed them on the table.
"For your son... and for you."
He upended the velvet pouch. Something fell onto the table with a clatter.
A blood-stained locket.
It was the locket of the carriage driver who had leaked Azgaar's arrival last night. The blood was still fresh, as if ripped from the throat moments ago.
The smiles vanished from Sadik and Humayun's faces instantly. A shadow of shock and terror passed over their eyes. They recognized the locket. It belonged to their spy.
Azgaar smiled at them.
"I found this while cleaning up some trash on the road. I thought, the owner's property should be returned to the owner. Isn't that right, Lord Humayun?"
Pin-drop silence.
Azgaar Ahmed had just made a statement—they could laugh about his son pumping water, but the real moves on this chessboard were being made by him.
Without waiting for their reaction, Azgaar pushed the suitcase toward Sadik.
"And this... is to boost your strength. Inside lies something that will propel you significantly toward your goal. Open it."
Sadik looked at his father with hesitation. Humayun gave a nod of consent, but secretly scanned the suitcase with an 'Investigation Spirit'. Any traps?
No, nothing. Safe.
Sadik opened the suitcase.
Seeing the contents, both father and son's eyes widened in shock. Sadik was too stunned to speak.
Azgaar stood up. He dusted off his robes.
"My work is done. I'm leaving. I have to prepare for my son's birthday. There is much to do for him."
He walked out with a smile. His gait was unhurried, as if he had just finished tea with friends. Yet, he left behind a terrified silence.
After Azgaar left, Humayun Kabir stared at the locket, his expression hard as stone.
"The Devil himself doesn't know what goes on in that man's mind. How can he be so calm after his son's condition?"
He looked at Sadik.
"Be careful, Sadik. Azgaar Ahmed is a 'Wisdom Path' Rank 3 Masterer. He might be planning to challenge the Heavens themselves."