"Damn it! That's not fair, Liv!" Azriel huffed, claws retracting as they trudged through the snow-drenched trail. "You stole that last kill. If you didn't, I would've won, easy."
Olivia glanced sideways, smirking with satisfaction. "We never set any rules, Az. We said, whoever gets the most kills wins. And guess what? I won. Maybe next time, you swing faster."
Azriel grumbled but didn't argue. They had just carved their way through another wave of feral beasts—low-intelligence scouts likely tied to something stronger nearby. The snow carried a thick tension, like something was watching, waiting.
"We should find shelter," Olivia said, sliding her shadowflame sword back into the void. "If those were scouts, the real threat's probably on its way."
"Agreed," Azriel muttered, kicking through a snowbank. "Also… what's with that sword? It looks like smoke that wants to kill me."
Olivia's pink eyes gleamed as she walked beside him. "Darkness and poison affinity," she said simply. "I shape shadows into solid form with mana. Then I lace them with venom."
"So you made a shadow sword… and dipped it in death juice," Azriel muttered. "Nice."
She chuckled. "Pretty much. The venom seeps in through wounds. Shuts down organs. It's a little like shadow-born neurotoxin."
Azriel blinked. "Okay. Reminder not to piss you off."
They walked a bit more before he added, "Can you explain affinities? Like, for someone who didn't get a formal education in magic because they were, y'know, enslaved most of their life?"
Olivia halted and turned. "Wait. Are you serious? You don't know what affinities are?"
Azriel raised an eyebrow. "Nope. Shockingly, slave pits didn't offer Magic 101."
Her features softened. "That's… honestly wild. Most people learn that before they even manifest mana. You've been fighting like a monster without knowing the basics."
"I am a monster," he said proudly.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Okay. Quick rundown: an affinity is like a natural resonance with a type of magic—an element or concept your soul vibes with. Mine are darkness,fire and poison. I shape and merge them with less effort."
"So it's like being naturally gifted with certain magics?" Azriel asked.
"Exactly," Olivia nodded. "Anyone can learn fire magic, for example. But someone with a fire affinity will do it faster, cheaper, and better. Affinities are your shortcuts."
Azriel nodded slowly. "Huh. Wonder what mine are."
He reached inward, willing the strange, glowing interface to appear. And it did.
[Status]
Name: Azriel Morningstar
Age: 19
Race: Demi-Human
Bloodline: Kitsune / Lycanthrope
Titles: Solomon's Successor, Brightest Light, ••••
Affinities: Sun, Moon, Gravity, Dream,????
HP: 100/100
MP: 100/100
Strength: 25
Intelligence: 40
Agility: 20
Stamina: 30/30
Skill Points: 3
Stat Points: 3
Azriel blinked. "Wait. That's… six?"
"Hey, Liv," he called, "how rare is it for someone to have six affinities?"
"Six?!" she turned so fast her hair whipped in the wind. "That's—Azriel, that's not supposed to happen. One or two is normal. Three is elite. Four? Legendary bloodline stuff. Six… that's divine-tier."
Azriel grinned. "Guess I'm built different."
Before Olivia could answer, she pointed. "There! A cave."
They bolted for it, snow crunching underfoot. But as they stepped inside, the cold intensified—and something else hit them: the stench of rot.
Moonlight filtered through cracks, casting eerie shadows across slick cave walls.
Azriel stepped in first—then froze.
Twelve snow wolves stood in formation, their red eyes gleaming. Their white fur shimmered like ice, but their growls were full of malice.
Olivia's blade of shadows flared to life. "Left side's mine."
"Right's good," Azriel said, extending his claws—but then paused. "Wait… let's try this gravity thing."
He closed his eyes, trying to reach into the strange new mana. It was heavy. Dense. Like trying to lift a mountain with his mind. The air rippled, pressure building around him. The wolves flinched.
He raised his hand toward the closest wolf—and forced the weight downward.
CRACK.
The beast's spine shattered under the pressure. Blood burst from its mouth as it collapsed in on itself. But the force hit Azriel too—his knees buckled slightly.
Too much, he thought.
Three more wolves charged. He tried to repeat the spell—this time only on one.
Nothing.
The mana resisted him.
"Come on," he growled. He focused, visualizing a spike of force—not a field. A directed burst.
He slammed his foot down and pushed.
The nearest wolf was yanked off its feet and slammed into the cavern wall with a crunch. Ice fractured. Blood sprayed.
He gasped, sweat beading on his brow. "This is hard."
"Focus!" Olivia shouted, dancing through her half of the fight, her sword carving arcs of black flame. Wolves dropped behind her like poisoned dominoes.
Azriel shook his arms out and stepped into another attack. He twisted his hand and yanked downward. This time, the magic clicked. The gravity field slammed two wolves into the cave floor, bones cracking.
But it hurt. His muscles screamed in protest.
He moved slower now, calculating each motion. He couldn't just spam the power—it drained him too fast. Instead, he combined it with raw combat.
A wolf lunged. He ducked, grabbed its leg, and amplified the gravity at its center. The creature imploded with a wet crunch.
Another charged. He kicked it midair, shifted its weight with a gravity pulse, and sent it flying into a stalagmite.
One by one, they fell. But each time Azriel used the power, it took a piece of him—until his arms felt like lead and his lungs were fire.
Finally, only silence remained.
Olivia stood on the opposite end, breathing heavily, her sword dissolving into mist. "You actually… you have gravity magic."
Azriel leaned against the wall, panting. "Yeah… and I think gravity has me too."