The following day Liam arrives at master Grey's house to lean from him.
"So, the little thief comes back. Not afraid I'd slam the door on your face?"
"You didn't. Because you think I'm worth the trouble."
So Master Grey "I wanted to know about the mana core you mentioned in the requirements."
"No from the basics, could you even sense the mana firsthand, rushing directly to mana core!"
"I can , I already sensed it, I can sense the mana core too."
Grey was surprised to hear that Liam was able to sense mana core and mana without anyone guiding them, but he was not too astonished, he worked in the city before and some kids do so at ages of 4 or so with guidance, but Liam did so on his own.
"At least he has perseverance," Grey thought to himself.
He had seen too many give up at the very first wall. Sensing mana wasn't an impossible task. With enough effort, most people could do it. That was never the problem.
The real obstacle was the mind—the monkey mind, as the old monks called it. Sit down to meditate, and the thoughts would leap like startled apes from branch to branch:
"Is this even working?"
"Maybe I'm not talented."
"Should I just go weed the fields instead?"
"Or maybe I can do something more productive."
One doubt led to another, each one louder than the last. They'd say they didn't have time. Or that they weren't cut out for it. Or that they'd try again tomorrow. And like that, days became years, and nothing changed.
Though the boy lacks ruthlessness now, Grey mused, that too will come—through pain, failure, and his own hard-earned truths. It is not something that can be taught by words, only burned into the soul by life itself.
But perseverance…
Ah, that rarest of flames.
To press on even when the body is breaking, to hold firm even when the end is known, to know you maybe dust by tomorrow's sunrise but still hold on.
How many dream of becoming a mage, imagining power and prestige, only to wither the moment they taste success? They train, they sacrifice, and then... they stop. Because they think they've arrived. Wealth dulls the edge. Comfort breeds rust.
"Just a little rest," they say. "I'll return to the path soon." But days turn to years, and their hearts, once burning with fire, become weighed down by gold and wine.
How many truly walk this road to its end?
Most turn back. Others stop in place. Some turn their eyes to the sky but never again lift their feet.
Even I…
"Maybe," he thought, "just maybe… this one might walk further than I ever did."
"So you want to understand the mana core, boy?" Grey asked, voice calm, but heavy with age and experience.
Liam nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master Grey. I saw something in my navel—a space, a shell, golden motes… I think it's my mana core."
Grey raised an eyebrow. "At least you're not completely clueless. Fine, I'll explain—but if you keep interrupting, I'll toss you out."
Liam sat straighter. "I'll listen. I promise."
Grey nodded, then continued. "The mana core has five main stages—Cracked White, White, Iron, Silver, and Golden. Every person is born with a mana core. It's not something you earn—it forms naturally in the womb."
"But why the navel?" Liam asked.
"Because of the umbilical cord," Grey answered without hesitation. "When a baby is in the mother's womb, it receives nutrients and life force through the umbilical cord. Over time, that point becomes the center of life essence. Mana flows in from the mother too, just a little. The mix of these two—life force and mana—forms what we now call the mana core"
"So, it's both physical and metaphysical?"
Grey smirked. "Exactly. It's not like your heart or liver. You can't cut someone open and find a glowing orb. But it's real. You felt it, didn't you?"
Liam nodded slowly. "It was like my mind was pulled inside. I was looking at myself from within."
"That's the core space," Grey said. "When you're born, the shell of the mana core is white and uncracked. As you age to two or three years, it becomes cracked due to eating earthly food, and habits. As you grow older, life force leaks out through tiny, invisible fissures. That's why people age. That's why they die."
"To slow the leaking. We have to mend the cracks. To make the shell whole again," Grey said, voice rising with a strange fervor. "If you can reinforce the mana core, return it to an uncracked white shell, you could theoretically live up to 150 years."
Liam's eyes lit up. "That's a lot!"
Grey shook his head. "Theoretically. If you mend it at fifteen, for example, but cracks already drained twenty years of potential life… then what? You'll still live longer than most, but maybe only to 110 or 120. It's a race against time."
"So the earlier you start, the better," Liam concluded.
"Exactly. But it's not just about life span. A stronger mana core also lets you store more mana. That's crucial for spellcasting."
"What about the next stages? After White?"
Grey leaned back in his chair. "Iron, Silver, and Golden. I haven't reached them, so I can't say everything with certainty. But what I do know is this: the stronger the outer shell, the better it holds both life force and mana. And each breakthrough adds decades to your life, depending on how much life force you have left."
"How does it hold life force if it's not physical?" Liam asked.
Grey looked pleased. "Good question. Think of the mana core shell like a membrane. Life force isn't like blood—it doesn't leak in drops. It permeates. A cracked shell leaks essence slowly, like a breeze passing through torn fabric. A whole shell blocks it. Reinforcing it to Iron or Silver doesn't just stop the leak, it begins storing it."
Liam's brow furrowed. "So, even if I get to Silver Core, but I'm fifty years old and already lost most of my life force…"
"It isn't like that, like say if even if you have 10 years left to live based on white mana core calculations, that is you have x amount of life force, and then you form a Silver mana core, the same x can be translated to maybe say 60 years, because life force will be leaked so minutely over large span of time. The life force has lot of potential ,even with vey minute amount present, if you can form a core which doesn't allow it flow out , theoretically you can live forever."
"Is there a way to get back lost life force?"
Grey's expression darkened. "There are ways. Forbidden ones. But most are cruel, costly, or both. Don't even think about them."
"I wasn't," Liam said quickly, though he filed the thought away.
Grey continued, "But let me be clear. Advancing your core is not a straight path. It takes more than will. It takes knowledge, resources, guidance… and pain. Lots of pain."
Liam stared at his hands. "So… I have a cracked white core."
"Everyone starts with it. You've sensed it early—that's good. But if you don't work to mend it, your life force will continue to drain. You'll be like any farmer or baker. Dead by seventy, if lucky."
"But if I mend it soon, I'll have a chance."
Grey nodded. "Yes. But remember this: having a strong core doesn't make you immortal. It just means you have more time—and more power—to shape your fate."
Liam exhaled, letting it all sink in.
Grey stood up and turned toward the shelves of books and scrolls. "Enough theory for now. If you still want to learn, we begin tomorrow. Be on time