A week had passed since the Miasma circle formed near my heart.
Nothing changed.
No increase in strength. No improvement in control.
Two energies existed inside my body—dark aura in my abdomen and Miasma near my heart—refusing to cooperate.
Monster attacks were increasing. The northern lord had warned civilians not to move at night.
I was a child.
Alone.
Unarmed.
Power without direction was useless.
That thought weighed on me as I walked toward the village.
"Raven."
I turned. Vandelana stood outside her shop, watching me closely. Her gaze lingered on my face longer than usual.
"You look… different," she said. "What are you doing to yourself?"
I told her I had come to buy ingredients for cooking, but the tension in my face betrayed me. Her eyes narrowed.
I didn't tell her everything—but enough. She invited me inside her shop.
To change the topic, she asked, "How many have you already used?"
When I answered, she went silent.
"…You're going to kill yourself at this rate," she said quietly. Her eyes never left my face. "And you don't look like a boy who wants to die."
"I need a way to survive."
She studied me for a long moment, then turned back to her work without arguing further.
As she brewed, my eyes drifted to the hourglass on her counter. Sand flowed steadily from the upper bulb to the lower—two circles connected by a narrow passage.
I stared.
Dark aura.
Miasma.
Two cores.
No connection.
The shape burned itself into my mind.
What if they weren't meant to merge?
What if they were meant to align?
That was when the idea formed.
I asked her about physical and internal healing.
She explained it plainly: physical injuries could be treated by bathing in diluted healing potions, but internal damage required drinking them directly. Too much of either could kill me.
I bought one small healing potion and one medium healing potion, then returned to the mansion.
Back at the house, I filled a tub with clean well water and diluted the healing potion. The internal healing bottles were placed within reach.
Then I began.
Dark aura moved first—thin, controlled, shaped like a thread rising from my abdomen. I guided it upward carefully, toward the Miasma circle.
The moment they touched—
Pain exploded.
Beast Breathing activated instinctively, forcing blood through my heart faster than my body could endure. I choked, blood spilling from my mouth. I drank an internal potion immediately, stopping the collapse just in time.
I didn't stop.
Switching techniques, I activated Beast Skin Absorption.
Miasma responded instantly—too instantly. It surged outward, aggressive, hungry.
The connection formed.
For a single heartbeat, the two energies aligned.
I drank one more internal healing potions to stabilize the damage.
Then my vision darkened.
I endured.
Blood leaked from my nose and eyes.
Mana poisoning.
I submerged myself fully and poured in the stronger healing potion, biting down on cloth to keep from screaming.
Slowly—agonizingly—the chaos settled.
When I dragged myself out of the tub, shaking, I felt it.
I drank the remaining internal potion with trembling hands and collapsed onto the floor.
Time passed. Minutes. Hours. I couldn't tell.
When I woke, it was morning.
I was alive.
The energies had stabilized—but not merged. They aligned vertically inside me, like two circles connected by a narrow path.
An hourglass.
I staggered outside and picked up a practice sword.
Dark aura flowed smoothly when I swung—controlled, familiar.
Then I switched.
Miasma surged into the blade.
The world sharpened unnaturally. My grip tightened. Breathing slowed. Thoughts narrowed.
I swung again.
Harder.
Too hard.
For a moment, I didn't care what I hit.
I stopped only when the sword trembled in my hands.
My reflection stared back at me from the blade.
Black eyes.
Not dark.
Empty. Absolute.
I lowered the sword, heart pounding.
I could use both energies—but Miasma eroded restraint. Prolonged use would cost me something. Control. Judgment. Maybe myself.
Power, at last.
But it wasn't free.
And without a real weapon, this power would turn on me before it ever saved me.