Kuroa smiled at Tundra's eagerness.
"First," she said, "what specialization would you like to pursue? Or would you prefer a more generalized approach to magic?"
Tundra thought for a moment.
He liked the idea of transmutation.
But enchantment also sounded incredibly appealing.
"If I choose one," he asked, "can I still use the others?"
Kuroa nodded.
"You can. They'll simply be weaker and more difficult to use."
Tundra grimaced slightly.
It felt greedy, but he wanted to use all of them well.
"If I chose the generalized path," he asked, "how long would it usually take to learn all three?"
Kuroa thought for a moment.
She had experience doing exactly that.
"Well," she said, "for me it took about a decade. I wanted each type to reach a reasonable level before moving on to the next."
She tapped her chin.
"But if you only learned the basics of all three first, it would take around a year."
"Possibly less if the learner already has experience with ki."
Tundra nodded.
"And why would experience with ki make it faster?"
Kuroa answered immediately.
"As I mentioned earlier, projection magic is very similar to ki."
"Experience with one makes the other easier to grasp."
Tundra nodded again.
"Makes sense."
Kuroa crossed her arms lightly.
"Alright. Enough explanation."
"Which path do you choose?"
Tundra didn't hesitate.
"I'd like the generalized path."
After all—
He had all the time in the universe.
Kuroa nodded.
"Alright."
"Stay seated exactly as you are and don't move."
Tundra nodded and sat cross-legged on the ground, waiting patiently.
Kuroa stepped behind him and placed both palms on his back.
She spread her senses into his body.
The moment she did—
She froze.
Her body shook slightly as her mind was overwhelmed by what she sensed.
"…Is that a star?"
Tundra nodded.
"It seems so."
"Will that be a problem?"
Kuroa swallowed before sighing.
"No… it won't."
"I'll just need to figure out how to work around it."
"Take all the time you need," Tundra said calmly.
"It's not a problem."
Kuroa nodded and removed her hands from his back.
She picked up a nearby rock and transformed it into a sheet of paper and a pencil.
Sitting down, she quickly began sketching.
First, she drew the standard mana pathways used in generalized magic.
Then she sketched a second diagram.
A model of Tundra's body.
Complete with the star located where his heart should have been.
Kuroa stared at the drawing for a moment before standing again.
She placed her palm against the center of his back once more, focusing more deeply on the star.
If her theory was correct—
The star should be producing mana.
After all, it was still a star.
Moments later her hypothesis proved correct.
Thin waves of mana flowed outward from the star, dissolving into the surrounding environment.
Kuroa returned to the ground and resumed sketching.
This time the pathway design changed.
The new pathways curved around the star in crescent shapes.
These arcs would absorb the mana radiating from it.
__
Several hours passed.
Kuroa filled page after page with notes and diagrams only to scrap them once she found one thing wrong, occasionally placing her hands on Tundra's body to reexamine his internal structure.
Tundra remained completely silent the entire time.
He didn't want to interrupt her work.
Finally, Kuroa placed the final diagram on the ground and sighed in mental exhaustion.
She groaned slightly as she stood up.
Preparing for the next step.
Then she paused.
"Actually… lie down."
"I need to be precise, and your legs being crossed isn't helping."
Tundra raised a nonexistent eyebrow but complied, lying down on the grass.
"Alright."
He didn't particularly like her tone.
But she was probably just tired so he'll excuse it.
Kuroa moved into position and pressed her palms against his chest and abdomen.
She took a breath.
Then began.
Mana flowed from her hands into his body, carving small pathways through him.
They stretched from his chest down into his arms and legs.
"Focus on the mana," she instructed.
The process hurt.
Tundra instinctively tensed.
But he didn't move.
Redoing the process would be far worse if that was even possible to do.
Kuroa concentrated on the star within his chest.
She created a circular network of pathways around it, linking everything together and allowing small branches to reach closer to the star to absorb its mana.
Finally, she performed the most delicate step.
She branched pathways upward from the circle.
They climbed through his neck and into his head.
As soon as they reached his brain—
The pain stopped.
The pathways carefully curled around the brain without touching it.
Precise.
Controlled.
When she finished, Kuroa collapsed backward onto the ground, completely exhausted.
"…Did you feel the mana I used?"
Tundra slowly nodded.
He had felt the strange energy take root throughout his body.
It had been fascinating, even if it was painful.
"I did."
Kuroa sighed in relief.
"Good."
"Now try to feel that same energy inside your own body."
"And guide it into the pathways I created."
Tundra nodded and closed his eyes.
He searched within himself for mana.
Almost immediately he sensed it.
The star inside him radiated mana constantly.
He attempted to guide it into the pathways.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
Slowly he reduced the amount he attempted to control.
Less.
And less.
Until he tried moving only the tiniest fraction of the mana radiating from the star.
Finally—
It responded.
A thin stream of mana entered the pathways.
Instantly it surged through them like burning fire.
It felt as if he were being branded from the inside out.
Tundra gritted his teeth but forced himself to remain calm.
He slowed the flow slightly.
The pain remained—
But it became manageable.
Eventually the fiery mana filled the entire pathway system.
And suddenly—
Everything changed.
His senses sharpened.
Even further than before.
Now he could sense mana
Opening his eyes, he looked toward Kuroa.
She had managed to stand again, though she still looked exhausted.
Tundra stood up as well.
Feeling grateful for what she had done, he extended his hand toward her.
Without a word, Kuroa grasped two of his fingers and shook them.
A silent acknowledgment of his gratitude.