Vargan prepared quietly.
He picked up his sword and packed what little he needed—food, water, and supplies—before heading toward the village where he had sensed the strange surge of energy.
When he arrived, the scene was unsettlingly calm.
Only a few weak Evil Eyes roamed the area, easily dispatched. But Vargan knew better.
This isn't everything, he thought.
Then, suddenly, the energy vanished.
Vargan rushed toward the place where the presence had been fading—and what he saw made him stop.
A boy stood there.
He looked a little older than Ace, breathing heavily, blood on his clothes. At his feet lay the remains of an Evil Eye.
And the boy had killed it without using a single spell.
Vargan stepped closer.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Darian," the boy replied.
Only then did Vargan notice—Darian was missing one eye.
Vargan tried to heal him, focusing what little restorative magic he had, but it was useless. The eye could not be restored.
Yet Vargan saw something else.
Potential.
Power.
To see Darian at all—to truly recognize him—Vargan made a decision that could never be undone.
Without hesitation, he tore out his own cursed eye and planted it into Darian's empty socket.
The pain was unbearable.
But when it was done, Darian could feel it.
The cursed vision awakened within him.
He could sense energy. He could feel magic. And, for the first time, he could use spells.
Vargan took Darian back to the forest and brought him to his home. He fed him, gave him shelter, and allowed him to stay.
The next day, Ace returned from patrolling the forest.
The moment he saw Vargan—with only one eye—he froze.
"What happened?" Ace asked in shock.
Vargan answered calmly, as if it meant nothing.
"I gave my eye to him."
Ace turned and saw Darian standing nearby.
"From now on," Vargan continued, "you will train together."
At first, Ace was unsure. But it didn't take long.
Within minutes, the two were talking. Laughing. Competing.
They became friends faster than either expected.
Days turned into months.
They climbed mountains together. They hunted Evil Eyes side by side. They challenged each other constantly—strength against strength, speed against focus.
Darian learned fixed spells like Armour, just as Ace had.
But Darian was different.
His hand-to-hand combat skills were on another level.
One day, Ace finally asked, "Who taught you to fight like that?"
"My father," Darian replied simply.
With his cursed vision, Darian began protecting people outside the forest—while Vargan remained behind, guarding it.
Two students.
One mentor.
And a future growing far more dangerous than any of them realized.