Forming the Aura Heart
Evening, after the day's Aura Heart training, in my room. I was preparing for my upgrade to the Apprentice stage.
Thanks to my diligent efforts, my body was now saturated with mana, completely full. To hold any more mana, I had no choice but to create an Aura Heart or Mana Core. There was no reason to put it off any longer. The moment of decision had finally arrived.
Ever since I'd gained knowledge about the Aura Heart and Mana Core from the Beginner Magic Grimoire, I'd agonized over it endlessly. Back when I first got the info, I'd paced around alone in a panic, crippled by choice paralysis. But after mastering half of the twenty low-grade spells, my mind had swung decisively one way.
Average of four months. That's how long it took to learn one of the spells in the back of the grimoire. If the power had matched the effort, I might've hesitated. But all my grunting and straining during casting produced was a flame the size of a lighter. No wonder my motivation tanked.
And there was a fatal drawback. If a spell failed to activate or I botched it mid-cast, I had to tank the backlash myself. With a magic circle, the painstakingly drawn array would just get damaged. In other words, if you had money, you blew it on pre-testing circles; if not, you paid with your body.
Looking at the dozen runes, dozens of circuits, and twenty magic circles built on them in the book, the path of magic was crystal clear. A tower of knowledge stacked on runes and circuits. Like programming in my past life: learn the language for this world's magic OS, study the libraries hoarded by the magic towers, then build your own massive system called "realm."
But the magic towers—the legacy system and sole textbook—weren't handing out their knowledge for free to a total newbie just stepping through the door...
From there, it wasn't hard to guess what came next.
Low-grade mages are no different from grad students...
No doubt the senior mages would exploit them in exchange for knowledge. In a world where higher realms meant longer life, in a medieval setting, I could practically see the drawn-out apprenticeship exploitation under the mentor system.
Of course, the system's nature had upsides: stack enough knowledge, climb the realms, and you wielded powerful, highly flexible abilities. But with my brain taking four months per low-grade spell, I couldn't even guess how much time it'd waste before I became a proper mage.
Looking back, the grimoire's preface was profoundly telling. In an era where knowledge was precious, to distribute such detailed novice-level info? If profit was the goal, they could've chopped it into magic-circle chunks and raked in a fortune.
By process of elimination, only one option remained. Slave recruitment. True to form as a Grandmaster, the author was surely using this terrifying bait to turn talented kids from wealthy families into grad-student slaves.
In this situation, form a Mana Core and chase magic? No need to dive into hell just because I hated living as a knight.
So I decided to create an Aura Heart.
But now that the moment was here, actually making it...
Something felt a bit regrettable.
Mana was the universal material, will the tool, runes and circuits the recipe. With mana and will, a living being could do anything. Mana stayed gathered inside the body instead of dispersing because the being willed it so.
Knights and mages could build and maintain structures like Aura Hearts or Mana Cores inside themselves because their strong wills demanded the mana form those structures—and keep performing once made.
So if a mana-wielding being desperately wished for it, even conjuring water and bread from thin air was possible.
But without an exact recipe, results weren't guaranteed. Even if you somehow succeeded blind, you'd waste materials and overuse tools. And the farther from the will's origin, the more it defied physical laws, the exponentially worse it got.
Easing my body's hunger and thirst took moderate mana and will. With runes or circuits for water and bread, it'd be efficient too. But true "creation" from empty air outside the body? That demanded astronomical mana and will.
While mages designed and stacked Cores one by one atop these principles, knights simply contemplated their bodies, grasped the heart's position, shape, and function, then brute-forced will into the mana to forge a new organ mimicking it: compressing mana continuously to refine it into aura.
That's why every knight's Aura Heart was unique, and why no matter how many times I asked Sir Roland how to make it, his answer was always, "Just make a new heart that gathers mana and strengthens your body!"
At first, I thought he was messing with me or holding back sacred knowledge...
In summary, Aura Heart was a catch-all for "internal mana structures that automatically condense mana." The resulting high-density mana let the body adapt, granting knights superior strength, stamina, regeneration, reflexes, and senses.
Meaning, as long as the function matched, there was no reason not to use circuits or runes—or stick to heart shape.
Instead of a full Mana Core that auto-absorbs/stores mana, aids casting, resonates with external mana to amp spells, cushions failed-cast backlash, maintains health, and extends lifespan...
Why not make a stripped-down, ultra-light Mana Core—just for auto-absorbing, condensing, and circulating mana internally—and use that as my Aura Heart? The book even provided an excellent reference (Apprentice-grade Mana Core for mages).
And so, the magic circle etched on the wooden board before me was the fruit of that deliberation.
I'd tested it to death. Roughly build a wooden box, engrave the circle on the lid, activate it, sense the mana inside—easy to verify if it worked. Stripping unneeded functions simplified the structure, leaving ample space for thick runes and circuits. Even if lines strayed a bit, no functional issues.
Finally, confirmed temporary small mana structures could be built and dismantled inside the body harmlessly.
Now, just build the structure inside, engrave this circle onto it, done.
Alright, here goes!
I sat cross-legged on the bed, closed my eyes. Consciousness sank inward. Focusing on mana, willing my body's structure to reveal itself, details around my focus point emerged in my mind like a 3D image.
Found the heart easily. First, gathered mana to fully envelop it. Shaped the fluffy mana clump into a sphere.
Pushed central mana outward to hollow the core while reinforcing the outer shell. Prep done.
Now, pour in the will. Willed the lumpy sphere smooth everywhere, concentrating fiercely. It responded, slowly reshaping. Bumps flattened gradually, surface gleaming smoother.
After some time, it looked flawless to the naked eye.
Ugh...
Head already throbbed. No stopping now—I gritted through the pain.
Next, recalled the magic circle I'd memorized and engraved a thousand times, desperately willing it to engrave properly on the sphere's surface.
I had no clue how to warp a flat circle onto a sphere, so willing was my only shot.
Please, do it!!
Devouring my fierce will, unknown patterns emerged on the surface. Head felt like splitting.
Pain scaled with the patterns' clarity. I clenched my teeth, endured, endured more.
How much time passed? Pop—!
A sudden beam of light surged through me. Consciousness went white; heart stopped; all sensation vanished.
Then—a dull thud—! struck my ears.
Instantly, compressed mana erupted from the heart-thing, flooding my body. "Gahk—!"
The shock revived my senses. Mana raced through faster than training pace, returning to the heart.
Thud—! It pulsed again with the heartbeat, mana surging anew.
Mana throbbed in sync with my heart. Each inhale drew it deeper; density rose subtly, churning inside.
The Mana Core—my Aura Heart—had formed perfectly.
I sat there enduring a while longer, monitoring the circulation.
Once sure no issues, I collapsed and passed out.