CHAPTER 66: MANA PURITY [II]

The award would be a mop, naturally, so I could clean the floor after my classmates finished wiping their shoes on me.

Still, no point sulking. Freya’s glow didn’t change anything. Well, it did—it made me look even worse. But it didn’t change the important part: Mana Breathing existed, and one way or another, I’d get it.

I wasn’t about to spend my life wheezing up black smoke while everyone else pranced around glowing like blessed candles.

"Pfft," a low sound broke my thoughts.

I tilted my head down. Nyx was looking at me from my shadows, his sleek black fur shining faintly in the sun. Yellow eyes gleamed with that familiar, annoying amusement. His tail flicked in slow, mocking rhythm.

"Loki," his voice purred in my head, smooth and sharp, "your performance was breathtaking. Truly. I’ve never seen a crystal so eager to turn completely black. It was like you and filth were meant for each other."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Thank you, Nyx. Your support warms my heart."

"Don’t thank me yet. I plan to recite this story to every cat in the district. You’ll be famous among alley strays by sunrise."

"Perfect. Just what I needed. A fan club of gutter cats."

"Even strays would be embarrassed to follow you now."

I looked back toward the orb, which still shimmered faintly from Freya’s green glow. My jaw tightened. "Don’t worry about me, furball. Black’s just the bottom rung. And you know what’s great about the bottom rung?"

Nyx stretched along the chain and yawned, showing teeth. "That it smells like swamp water?"

"No. That it means the only way left is up."

The cat blinked slowly, unimpressed, before letting out a low, rumbling laugh. "Oh Loki, you’re shameless. You manage to turn ’congratulations, you’re sewage’ into a pep talk."

"What can I say? It’s a gift."

"A gift no one asked for."

I smiled faintly despite myself. That was the thing about Nyx—he was cruel, but at least he was honest. Better to be mocked by a spirit cat than by classmates who’d happily throw me to the wolves.

The testing line moved on. Another noble’s son touched the orb. It came brown.

Respectable. Not green, but enough to get polite nods and murmurs of approval.

I imagined the crystal glowing red instead, spelling out "FAILURE" in bold letters. Honestly, that would’ve been kinder than the black it gave me. At least failure is clear. Black was worse. It was failure and filth.

"Cheer up," Nyx purred, curling his tail around my wrist. "Think of it this way: if mana purity were food, you’d be... hmm... spoiled milk."

I arched a brow. "That’s your attempt at cheering me up?"

"Of course. Spoiled milk still has uses. Farmers throw it at pests. Villagers chase thieves with it. Perhaps one day they’ll chase you."

I groaned. "I should’ve summoned a goldfish instead of you."

Nyx flicked his ears in mock outrage. "A goldfish can’t insult you nearly as elegantly."

"You’re right. It would’ve been quiet."

He kneaded his claws into the chain with satisfaction. "You’d miss me."

I didn’t answer that. Mostly because he was right.

I scratched my cheek, keeping my face carefully neutral. Inside, my thoughts were racing faster than my pulse. ]

Black. Fine. So what? It was just the starting point. Everyone else had a family torch, sure. Scrolls, teachers, bedtime stories about breathing methods.

But me? I had lungs. Two of them. They worked. Mostly. Probably.

And that was enough. It had to be.

Nyx leaned closer, his whiskers brushing my hand. "You’re smiling. Should I be worried? Every time you smile like that, someone loses money, dignity, or both."

"Relax. No one’s losing anything. Not yet."

"So it’s true then. You’re plotting."

I gave him a side glance. "When am I not?"

The cat chuckled, a soft rumble deep in his chest. "Fair enough."

The crystal kept glowing with other colors— many brown and another green that nearly stole Freya’s thunder.

Each result widened the gap between me and them. Each glow was a reminder of what I didn’t have.

But here’s the thing: gaps are just spaces waiting to be crossed. And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s finding ways across.

Maybe my mana was sludge right now. Maybe everyone here saw me as the academy’s personal swamp monster. But time had a funny way of flipping stories upside down.

Nyx’s tail flicked idly against my arm. "So what now, swamp prince? Going to sulk? Cry in a corner? Compose a tragic poem about your filthy mana?"

I put on my best thoughtful face. "Tempting. But no. I think I’ll save my tears for when the world least expects it."

Nyx snorted, ears twitching. "You’re hopeless."

"Hopeless?" I smirked. "No. Just patient. Let them laugh now. When the day comes, their jaws will hurt from the whiplash."

The cat blinked, golden eyes narrowing, but I caught the faint glint there. He might not say it outright, but he believed me. Or maybe he just enjoyed watching the chaos I left in my wake.

Either way, it was enough.

The test ended, Iron Fang’s voice booming again with closing remarks about discipline and breathing and strength. His eyes cut across the yard, pausing on me just long enough to remind me I was now his personal swamp exhibit.

Fine. Let him watch. Let them all watch.

Because one day, when my glow burned brighter than theirs, I’d make sure they remembered the moment they whispered: and Loki... black.

And I’d laugh. Probably while holding my mop like a victory banner.

"Yes, yes," Nyx drawled, "and the academy will sing songs of how Loki, Lord of Sewage, conquered the stairs without tripping. Truly legendary."

"Careful, cat," I murmured. "When I ascend, you’ll have to call me Master."

Nyx licked a paw slowly. "Then I sincerely pray you stay at the bottom forever, and I will make sure of it definitely."