Beastification
Magic circles exist for spells and classes, but aura has stages. They aren't as clearly defined as circles, but there's a system of sorts. This is a concept established far in the future.
There are broadly four stages, though it's closer to five in reality. Stage 1 is what they call beginner aura. It's an instinctive flow to strengthen the body, and at this point, people don't usually call you an aura user anymore. You just feel like your physical abilities have developed beyond mere muscle training. You can run and move faster. You can exert far more strength than your muscles alone would allow. Up to here, the person doesn't even realize they're using aura. Unless someone points it out.
Stage 2 is where you truly get called an aura user. It's also known as intermediate aura. You become aware of the aura's flow and can circulate it through your body. You can even infuse weapons with fragmented imagery. In most places, this level gets you recognized as a knight, even qualifying for knight commander—no questions asked. As long as you have a vessel in your heart and have awakened to aura, endless training can get you there.
From Stage 3 onward, it's the realm of the innately gifted. This is where you manifest a unique aura based on specific emotions or will—advanced aura. It's not just instinct or training results; your life's history manifests in the aura. The man who created this aura system, Lichtenhauer, belonged to this stage. He left a famous definition of aura:
"Aura is not merely power. Aura is the 'imagery' of one's existence, the second body forged by 'will.'"
This definition truly applies starting here. This is why warriors from combat tribes begin to resemble the beasts they traditionally worship, identify with, or see as their identity—the way they fight becomes similar.
From Stage 1 to 3, it's true that higher stages generally hold an edge in raw power. But that doesn't guarantee Stage 2 always beats Stage 1, or Stage 3 crushes Stage 2. Innate vessel size, physique, aura capacity, training results, and combat sense play bigger roles. If someone can't use aura at all, that's one thing—but if they can use even a little, stage distinctions don't mean much for overall might.
Stage 4 is different. No one from Stages 1 to 3 can beat it. Stage 4's other name is swordmaster. From here, aura operates on a whole new concept. Even Lichtenhauer never reached it. At this realm, it's more accurate to say aura is akin to magic than swinging a sword. In other words, you can strike without a weapon. Put simply, the "second body" manifested by imagery and will in Stage 3 is now constantly synchronized with your real flesh.
Lichtenhauer's writings didn't detail it much. But he left clear warnings and advice for those aspiring to swordmaster:
"A swordmaster is not one who masters the body, but one who 'controls form.' The body and vessel must serve as the foundation."
"Aura is a blade that devours the body. Aura extending from the heart's vessel manifests only within natural limits. But if aura rampages due to specific conditions or temperament, collapsing body and vessel, the result is horrific."
"Aura rampage occurs when three conditions align: Rampage of will. Realization of imagery. Collapse of vessel. The end is one of two: Inevitable death, or mutation."
"Mutation is when imagery slips control and reconstructs the body. Flesh becomes the monster of imagery, mind fractures into splintered emotions. This is irreversible. This is the final stage. Stage 5: Beastification."
"Once you enter Stage 5, all that's left is progression into beastification. Body turns monstrous, mind shatters. Every swordmaster lives bearing the risk of beastification—and every Stage 3 aspiring to it does too."
Isaac carefully recalled those words.
Carlson. Or rather, Kyle as described in The Villain's Chronicle, was a genius who could become the continent's seventh swordmaster. But he couldn't resolve the grudges in his heart or bloom what needed to bloom. Details were scarce. It only mentioned his revenge being dashed by Boatmer Viscount's red-haired knight, Everbin Forerhar.
But that alone couldn't explain why he never became a swordmaster. After a bit of thought, Isaac reached one conclusion.
The future Carlson was already undergoing beastification.
The trigger: his encounter, battle, and defeat against Everbin. Perhaps vengeance and burning grudge pushed him beyond his body and vessel's limits.
'Fortunately, it doesn't seem too late yet.'
The battle between Everbin and Carlson wasn't over.
'What stages are they at now?'
Isaac couldn't easily gauge their aura levels. He just had deep knowledge of Lichtenhauer's aura theory. In detail, Isaac himself had just entered Stage 2. Asra Baldroon seemed in Stage 3's prime, Bessimer just stepping into it. In contrast, Carlson and Everbin, dominating the battlefield, appeared beyond Stage 3's entry.
"Hans, how long have they been fighting?"
"A full day and half more, I think, young master."
Hans answered Isaac's question. The soldiers looked exhausted. They'd been watching the duel on edge without proper sleep or food—it was no wonder.
'They're evenly matched for now.'
If either Carlson or Everbin had even a slight edge, it would've ended long ago.
'Does Everbin ultimately surpass Carlson?'
The point where Carlson loses to Everbin—more precisely, attempts revenge on Boatmer Viscount—was much later than now. That's why it puzzled Isaac more. He had no way to know the aura world yet. He'd studied magic his whole life, but aura was different. Even in his past life, his aura research was solely to control mana rampage.
"What do you think?"
"They seem evenly matched..."
Isaac asked Adel, but her answer matched his hunch. Still, she saw what he missed.
"Your knight will probably win like this. By a hair, though."
"Really."
Carlson wasn't formally knighted under Isaac, but he nodded.
"Something feels off, though."
"Carlson?"
"No, the redhead. He's teetering on his vessel's limit. How's he still holding? Insane mental fortitude? Must be excruciating."
Isaac vaguely knew the sensation. Mages' brains lack pain receptors, so truth-seekers often push limits. But an aura user's vessel is flesh and blood—pain exists. Using aura feels like veins being shredded. Accompanied by the urge to slash and smash.
That pain and impulse bring ecstasy. The thrill of exploding and unleashing pent-up power. Lichtenhauer likened it to sexual pleasure. That's why aura users act irrationally sometimes. But the body has limits. Even with ecstasy, pain is pain. Beyond a threshold, consciousness fades for survival, or shock paralyzes the body. Flesh sensing the world can't exceed its design.
"How do you know he's crossing his vessel's limit?"
"Look closely at the redhead's face."
Isaac stared at Everbin as Adel said. A hundred paces away, but wolf-king senses let focused eyes see. The sword leaving afterimages, deep blue aura, Everbin's face flickering with Carlson's moves.
Indeed, twisted in agony. Black veins bulged across his face, and his aura felt off—heterogeneous.
Isaac had seen these symptoms before. Chevalier’s mutation. When Boatmer's second son Rutger was captured after defeat, his guard Chevalier assassinated him, mutated, and tried killing Archbishop Alquin.
'Lichtenhauer doesn't explicitly describe beastification symptoms...'
Isaac considered one possibility.
'If that's a beastification symptom. And Boatmer has something to forcibly induce it...'
No time for deep thought. An arrow arced high from the sky, targeting Isaac. Like a hawk diving for prey, it moved alive.
Snap—
Before Isaac reacted, vile claws snatched it. Granak great warrior guarding Adel's side—also her half-brother.
Crunch!
The arrow crumbled in the great warrior's hand. He growled in tribal tongue at Isaac.
"What'd he say?"
"Whiserk asks what you'll do."
The arrow came from the knight beside Karl. Retaliation for Whiserk's javelin at Karl.
"Looks like they won't let the duel slide."
"Bro, let's just wipe 'em out."
Veins bulged on Bessimer's bald head. He was pissed Whiserk stole his thunder—javelin toss, snatching the arrow first, and looking small next to that bulk despite his own size. He hated Whiserk. Wanted to fight and prove himself superior.
"Stop it for now. We can't afford waiting on an endless duel. The promised date's approaching. Talk to their commander—if no dice, we fight."
"Right."
Adel spoke to Whiserk in tribal tongue. He nodded and charged mid-battlefield toward Carlson and Everbin. Unbelievable speed for his mass. He leaped, scraping earth, drew an axe mid-air, and dropped with full weight.
Boom—!
The ground cratered where he landed. Axe blade buried deep; cracks spiderwebbed out.
"......"
"......"
Sensing fierce killing intent, Everbin and Carlson had retreated ten steps from the landing without thought. Their flustered gazes turned to Whiserk. Too focused on fighting to notice surroundings.
"Must... talk."
Whiserk rasped common tongue. Smoke puffed from his nostrils with each breath.
"Huff, huff. What the hell are you? Human or beast?"
Bergheim yelled at the enemy knight atop the walls. Crimson hair whipping wildly, pale face with bulging black veins.
"I'm Walter. Today, this castle becomes my father's."
The knight assumed stance.
"This is nuts. Real trouble."
Bergheim scratched his head with his axe haft. His body was bloodied from gashes. Fighting humans felt like battling beasts. Like teaching swordplay to a high-rank humanoid monster.
"Hah. Fine. Let's hold just a bit longer—even if we die."
Bergheim muttered, eyeing his squad's mangled corpses. If he broke here, the plan crumbled. By now, Boatmer infantry filled Winterband's inner walls.