As soon as Caesar's hands touched the ground, the Aether in the room went wild, like an explosion. All the Aether rushed towards the walls and then imploded towards Asterios, forming a beautiful blue aura around him.

The old man sighed heavily as he watched the young boy sitting with his eyes closed. Asterios wasn't sure what was happening, he could only feel the powerful flow of energy entering his body and flowing towards his chest. He hadn't studied practical Aether manipulation, nor did he know how to sense it, but he still focused as much as possible, trying to use his intuition to ease the flow of that energy in his body.

Then Caesar increased the intensity of the Aether flow, gritting his teeth, and began transferring not only what was flowing in his veins, but also the base Aether flowing in his heart.

Asterios felt the intensity of the energy in his body increase slightly, from a warm sensation in his chest to a slight discomfort, and then to a dull, sharp pain. It didn't take long for the young boy to be forced to grit his teeth as the pain increased even more. Soon, he lost control, going from a painful moan to an agonizing scream as the Aether in his body became more and more aggressive.

The Aether heart was not simply a spiritual concept, it was a physical organ made of pure Aether that formed the foundation of a warrior's power, along with their spiritual veins. For the Aether heart to form, it would need to make space between the child's lungs, a painless process that would usually take years, but what Asterios was going through was completely different. The flesh of his lungs was being torn as the Aether forced its way forcefully into his chest, destroying anything that could hinder its growth.

Soon, the young boy's screams ceased as blood rose from his lungs to his mouth, his cries turning into painful gurgles as he collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe or even move. He could only muster the strength to stay awake, kept alive by the powerful flow of Aether that sustained his vitality, even though he couldn't draw a breath.

Argus watched silently from a distance, while Marcus and Erik had expressions of pity and slight terror on their faces. He remained calm, a faint smile playing on his lips as he witnessed the agony his son was enduring. "Embrace the pain, my son. It will forge you, just as it forged me," he spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper.

Afterwards, he turned to Caesar, who was in bad shape. He looked at the boy with regret written on his face, his skin appearing fragmented and blood oozing from his mouth, staining his white robe. One heart for another, as Asterios felt the terrible pain of his chest being torn apart, while a new organ was born. Caesar had to endure the agony of his own Aether heart slowly disintegrating.

After many minutes, the aura surrounding Asterios began to slowly change color, departing from its usual blue to a pure purple. It indicated the end and success of the Awakening Ritual.

Asterios then forced his weakened body towards Caesar, catching one last glimpse of the man's figure. His skin no longer appeared human, fragmented and cracked like a porcelain vase. His last sight was of Caesar's tear-filled eyes, accompanied by the gentle smile of the old man, before his body shattered, turning into nothing but particles of Aether rising towards the sky.

Feeling darkness and exhaustion envelop his mind, the young boy collapsed as the powerful aura around him dissipated into the air.

…

Asterios slowly opened his eyes. He was in his bed, his body washed and his blood-soaked and sweat-drenched clothes replaced with a clean and comfortable pajama. But there was something else in his bed: the warm and soft body of Anna, embracing him as if he were a pillow, her gentle and delicate hands caressing his face, a gentle and warm smile gracing her sleeping face. Her eyes also opened as she realized that Asterios had woken up.

"Hi... how are you feeling?" she asked sleepily and with concern.

"Oh... I'm okay..." Asterios replied in a weak voice, before asking, "How long did I sleep?"

"About two days..." Anna said, her voice tinged with melancholy. "It was agonizing waiting... what happened to you? I tried asking Mr. Marcus, but he wouldn't say anything."

Asterios didn't immediately respond. Instead, he buried his face in the girl's chest, inhaling her floral scent and feeling the warmth of her hands as they caressed his hair and face. And then, with the image of an old man smiling in his mind, he began to cry silently. There was no sound, but tears streamed down his eyes, staining Anna's white pajama.

The girl said nothing, only tightening her embrace around Asterios. Her face carried an expression of pain and loss as she thought about the decision she was about to make...

…

On a plain, about 130 kilometers from Vasbrusk, around a thousand auxiliary soldiers were gathering the bodies of hundreds of fallen men, stripping them of any intact equipment or valuable items before tossing them into a large bonfire. Around them, 5,000 legionnaires stood guard.

In the center of this army, a tall man dressed in luxurious silver armor watched as a centurion examined the cuts on a soldier's body.

"What do you think?" the tall man asked.

"Same as the others, Legate Victus. Dead from clean and precise cuts. They probably didn't even have time to retaliate or draw their swords," the centurion replied, shaking his head.

Victus didn't immediately respond, staring at the rising sun on the horizon with a perplexed expression. He had never encountered anyone or anything with such capabilities before.

Suddenly, he crouched down, placing his hand on the ground, and sent out a small pulse of Aether, feeling the faint vibrations emitted by the earth. His eyes widened as he quickly stood up and shouted with a commanding and powerful voice, "Formation! Enemy army to the east!"

Hearing their leader's words, the legionnaires didn't question. The auxiliary soldiers who were tending to the bodies of the dead quickly ran, grabbing their spears and forming the front line to defend against any cavalry charge, while the legionnaires stood behind them, swords in hand, ready to switch places with the Auxiliaries if the initial charge was infantry and not cavalry.

Right after the front lines formed up, thousands of men mounted on large deer and carrying enormous axes in their hands emerged from the forest and charged cruelly towards the ranks of the 26th legion.

"The northern tribesman... After 100 years of peace... they finally decided to seek revenge... hahaha," Victus whispered with a bitter smile. He had estimated over 3,000 knights in just this initial charge. If he was correct, a powerful force with tens of thousands of infantry soldiers marched right behind them.

The deer-mounted cavalry closed the distance of over 1 kilometer between the forest and where the legionary army was in less than 1 minute.

The initial impact was followed by a bloodbath, as their powerful steeds crushed the spears of the auxiliaries like twigs, trampling them while the knights swung their enormous axes, tearing through the legionary formation in a bloody carnage as men were dismembered and trampled to death by the deer, filling the air with lamentable screams of pain and agony.

The few legionaries who resisted the initial charge fought bravely, but it was futile, as their ranks were broken like a sheet of paper.

Victus charged towards one of the knights and, with a leap to match their height, delivered a clean cut, hitting his opponent's chest. The Aether on his blade formed a beautiful red aura, cutting through bones and flesh as if they were nothing, and the poor knight could only watch in terror as he saw his chest opened by Victus' sword, ripping through his ribs and exiting through his back.

Immediately after, he continued his slaughter, planting his feet on the fallen knight's steed and lunging towards another knight with a precise thrust to his neck. His opponent didn't even see what hit him as Victus' sword pierced his trachea and shattered his neck with a gurgle and a muffled scream from the blood in his throat, throwing him off his horse and knocking down another knight behind him.

Victus didn't stop, killing dozens of enemy knights in minutes, his blade only stopping when the cavalry charge had completely passed through their forces. At that moment, he surveyed the battlefield.

The mangled bodies of over 4,000 of his soldiers lay on the ground, some lucky few dying instantly from a lethal blow, while others screamed in agony with severed limbs, forced to bleed out slowly to death.

Less than 2,000 legionaries remained standing and in fighting condition, terror, fatigue, and despair dominating their eyes as the march of a mighty infantry army echoed, with over 20,000 infantry soldiers crossing the tree line of the forest on the horizon.

Victus didn't order the remaining soldiers to form up. Instead, he stared fixedly at a solitary figure in the center of the enemy army: a bald man over 2 meters tall, with a bushy red beard, black eyes, and an axe in his hand. Sensing Victus's gaze, the man smiled and waved at him as if they were old friends meeting after many years.

"You bastard!" Victus shouted with hatred in his voice, anger boiling in his veins as his body radiated a red aura of Aether. He charged swiftly towards the man, his feet sinking into the ground with each step, causing explosions of earth in his wake. In less than 10 seconds, Victus was just a few meters away from his opponent, who held his axe firmly, his own green aura shimmering in response to the challenge.

The blades clashed in a powerful collision, the impact destroying everything in a ten-meter radius. Victus recoiled slightly before lunging again with his sword, trying to cut through the man's guard. However, his strike was skillfully parried by his opponent's axe.

After retreating with a new burst of Aether, Victus attacked furiously, with each exchange of blows he grew more frustrated, his sword, which had the power to shatter the earth and part the seas, was being treated as nothing more than a child's plaything by the man in front of him.

Both men intensified their power, their auras reaching an absurd level of energy as they fought ferociously. The earth trembled beneath their feet, and sparks of Aether flew through the air with each exchanged blow. Victus fought with determination, his gaze cold and focused, while the red-bearded man, on the other hand, just smiled confidently, putting more strength into his attacks.

At a crucial moment, the two men clashed in a prolonged battle between sword and axe. Victus gripped his sword with both hands and tried his hardest to force it against his enemy's axe, but to no avail. His opponent continued to smile casually, the axe he held with just one hand not even trembling despite all the force Victus was putting into his blade.

With a smooth nod, the man forced his axe against Victus's sword, his arms trembling slightly as more and more force was applied, and the Aether around them went wild.

The aura of Victus finally gave way under the power of the red-bearded man. He was thrown backwards, flying over 100 meters across the battlefield, only stopping when he violently crashed into a cliff, exploding the earth upon impact as a huge cloud of dust engulfed the entire region.

He tried to get up, but a powerful hand broke through the dust cloud and grabbed his head, pushing it down again before dragging him for over 800 meters. His body, no longer protected by the Aether, tore through the earth, leaving a bloody trail as the armor was destroyed by the friction against the ground, ripping and tearing at his bare back, only stopping when Victus' body slammed into a massive rock, cracking it but not breaking it completely.

Victus was exhausted, the Aether in his body depleted, unable to use any powers. He looked up, his face battered and his expression weak, seeing the red-bearded man chuckle softly. "You fought well, boy," said the man, before delivering a brutal punch, hitting Victus' head with force.

The impact was devastating, Victus' head exploded like a bloody pumpkin, bones and flesh shattering under the merciless fist of the red-bearded man, while the rock behind Victus cracked in half from the impact, resonating across the entire plain.

He licked his lips, smeared with a few drops of blood from what remained of Victus, satisfied with his victory. He then ordered his troops to finish off the survivors and clean up the battlefield, it was time to march towards Solfosta.

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