The path curved gently toward a low rise where the forest was a little closer than the village houses and the sky opened wide. Behind them, the village settled into the soft blue of early evening. Ahead, the sun hung just above the treetops, painting everything in amber and long shadows.
They walked in silence for a short while. Jiro could feel the questions stacking up behind his teeth. Finally, he asked the one that had been sitting heaviest since the square.
“So, Miss Tsunade. What exactly am I supposed to do now? As a sage, I mean. What’s the actual work?”
Tsunade’s gaze stayed on the horizon. A faint crease appeared between her brows, gone almost as soon as it formed.
She had expected the question, yet hearing it still confirmed something she had begun to suspect. His parents clearly knew more of the wider world than most villagers. His mother had even spoken of past sages with easy familiarity, and the talk with his father made her realise that the guy was no ordinary in the least. Yet their son asked about the duties of a sage as though the concept itself were new to him. She realised they really had raised him carefully, to become ordinary. And after figuring it out, she wondered why. Why would someone do that?
Aloud, she kept her voice even.
“A sage’s primary gift is healing that reaches beyond herbs or even the immortal mages. Wounds that would cripple ordinary men, illnesses that resist every known remedy- those become your responsibility. In times of peace, you would remain at the Temple, studying, refining your gift, treating those the court or the high clergy send to you. And in times like these…” She paused, choosing the next words with care. “The realm has gone fifty years without a sage. The backlog of the desperately ill is long, as your father said before. So, I fear, you will be needed more than most of your predecessors. Maybe even to the point that you won’t have enough quiet hours to meditate and break through your nectar this year.”
Jiro’s steps slowed.
“Nectar?”
Tsunade glanced at him. The look that crossed her face was brief, almost involuntary, something close to pity mixed with the mild disbelief of someone who had forgotten how little a remote village might teach its children.
“Nectar is a jewel-like catalyst. You will be given one when you reach the Pope. It originates in the immortal realm, which makes it rare and expensive for common people in this mortal realm. Those who can afford one, and who have the potential, can finally begin forming and cultivating a mana core.”
Jiro frowned, trying to fit the new word into the half-remembered stories he had heard from Grisha and some old men by the well.
“Uhh-... I’ve heard of mana cores before. Everyone who has a gift is supposed to have one, right? Not every core holder develops a gift, too, I heard, and a lot of people never even reach their potential too because they can’t get the resources… but since I already have a gift, doesn’t that mean I already have a core? Can I start cultivating the way the immortals in the stories do?”
Tsunade stopped walking. The last light caught the edge of her armor as she turned to face him fully.
“Did you not hear what I just said? The Pope will give you your nectar for mana-core formation when you arrive. That means you do not yet have one. Whether you even have the potential to form one is still unknown. We can only know that when you hold a nectar on your hand”
She studied his expression for a second, then seemed to decide simpler words were needed for him to understand this whole concept.
“To explain it more simply, a mana core does not appear in every human body as you might know. Their potential for forming one is generally tested by placing a nectar near the person. If the body begins drawing mana from the immortal-realm energy stored inside the nectar, then the potential exists. And if the nectar shows no change, the person is simply not suited for cultivation at all. Only after absorbing enough mana from the nectar can a core form. After that come the actual stages of mana cultivation. Well, you don’t need to know them yet. Those are lessons for the Temple, if you prove capable. You will be assigned a tutor if a core appears. For what it is worth, the previous sage never formed one either.”
Jiro’s brow furrowed deeper. The pieces refused to fit together cleanly.
“Wait. I thought a gift only appears after a mana core forms. How did the last sage use her abilities without one? And what happens if I don’t have the potential either? What good is a gift by birth if it’s useless without a core?”
Tsunade resumed walking, slower now so he could keep pace without effort.
“Normally you are correct. Most gifted people draw on the mana stored inside their own core to power their abilities. But Sages are the single exception. A sage can be born with a gift even if no core ever forms. In that case, the nectar itself becomes the reservoir. The gift of the sage draws mana directly from the nectar you hold. Even if your body cannot absorb or cultivate mana on its own, the gift can still function. That is one of the unique traits that sets a sage apart from every other cultivator. The previous sage worked exactly that way, too.”
Jiro’s head felt crowded. New terms kept landing on top of one another, nectar, core, potential, reservoir, until the quiet evening air seemed too thin to hold them all. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally let the rest of the questions settle unanswered.
After all, there would be time to learn all of them later. Right now the light was fading, and the path home was growing darker. As tomorrow he would leave the only place he had ever known, he didn’t want to stay in his head in this precious time. Read the latest chapters at novelping . com.
They turned back toward the village without further discussion. The amber sky had deepened into indigo by the time the familiar outline of the single-room house appeared ahead. A lantern burned beside the door. Jiro’s father stood beneath it, broad shoulders filling the doorway, white hair catching the yellow light.
He straightened when he saw them.
“There you are.” His voice carried. “Commander Tsunade. I’ve arranged a separate room for you at one of the larger storage houses near the western plots. One of your female knights is already waiting to show you the way. The rest of the detachment is settled, too.”
Tsunade inclined her head.
“You have my thanks.”
Jiro’s father glanced at his son and spoke.
“Go with her, boy, to show her the way. She will need some proper rest tonight. And come back fast. Your mother has dinner waiting, and there are a few things we should talk about before you sleep, too.”
Tsunade said otherwise. “Oh, no need for showing me the way. Venessa has already strolled the entire village by now. She can show the way to me just fine. Jiro-sama, you rest tonight. Tomorrow will be a long day for you.”
She looked once at Jiro, as though confirming he would be all right for the night, then followed the waiting female knight into the darkening lane. Her armor made almost no sound as she walked away.
Jiro stood in the lantern light and watched her go. The crest on his arm felt heavier than it had that morning. Behind him, the thin wall of the house waited for him to enter, quiet for now.
He drew a slow breath of the cooling village air, and finally stepped inside, to listen to whatever his family was waiting for him to tell him.