Soul Power- Aura

"Princess Novaria officially awakened her aura! Reports from last week revealed that she accidentally cut her finger with a knife, only to see her wound heal swiftly.

Following this incident, the family doctor of Chritina, Doctor Mike, conducted an examination on Princess Novaria using the latest Aura Grading Machine produced by Bright Day Corporation.

The results showed that she possessed a First-Tier Aura grade—yes, one of the Legendary Grades of Aura!"

In front of a grand castle bustling with a crowd of excited people, a beautiful female reporter delivered the news to the audience.

She held a microphone tightly as the cheers of the people echoed in the background. Her bright smile reflected the collective pride of the nation.

At the center balcony of the magnificent castle stood three figures. The King and Queen of Waria, dressed in majestic robes, exuded an air of authority and grace. Their presence alone silenced the crowd in awe for a brief moment.

Between the royal couple stood a young teenage girl dressed in a light blue gown embedded with diamonds and gold. The gemstones sparkled under the sun, making her look otherworldly. Her natural silver hair, styled in a wavy lob, flowed gently in the breeze.

Her sapphire eyes scanned the massive crowd below. She smiled softly before raising her right hand to wave.

The simple gesture triggered an explosion of cheers as the crowd celebrated their beloved princess.

Tuu...

I turned off the television, the image disappearing into the black screen. For a moment, I stared at the reflection of my own face.

My eyes gazed back at me, expressionless yet filled with unspoken thoughts.

"Couldn't expect less from the royal family of Waria—the Chritina," I muttered under my breath. My voice was low, almost drowned out by the lingering noise from the cheering crowd on the television just moments ago.

The princess could afford to reveal her talent and aura at such a young age. No one would dare attempt a kidnapping or assassination inside the royal castle. Its security was unmatched, a fortress in its own right.

I sighed and leaned back against the couch. Unlike their castle, our mansion, though heavily secured, wasn't invincible.

There was always a sliver of doubt, the chance that someone could bypass our defenses.

It wouldn't take much for an assassin to sneak in during the dead of night. Even though my parents repeatedly assured me otherwise, I couldn't help but remain skeptical.

The Chritina were royalty. Their status alone ensured protection. We—the Kal family—were nothing more than wealthy commoners, thanks to my father owning multiple apartments and malls in the city.

"Aura grade..." I whispered, standing up and brushing my hands along the armrests of the couch. "I wondered what my own grade would be. But without a grading machine, it was impossible to find out."

I walked out of the entertainment room, the sound of my footsteps echoing faintly against the tiled floor. The cool air inside the mansion brushed against my skin as I made my way toward my study table.

Aura was divided into four grades, each representing the purity of the energy awakened within an individual. Third Tier, Second Tier, First Tier, and, finally, the Divine Tier.

The Third Tier signified the lowest level of purity, while the Divine Tier represented absolute perfection. It was a spectrum that dictated not just strength, but status and capability in this world.

The First Tier was already considered legendary. Individuals who awakened it were rare, admired, and often feared.

As for the Divine Tier, there were only two known individuals in all of history who reached that pinnacle.

They had both perished in the battle against the Crawlers 40 years ago. Yet, their strength remained legendary, a testament to the power of their aura.

I reached my study table and sat down, my eyes scanning the scattered books and notes. Five public meditation books were stacked neatly on one side, their spines worn from frequent use.

In front of me lay my personal notebook, its cover plain and unassuming. But inside, it held my thoughts, theories, and experiments—my custom meditation method.

The five public methods of meditation were nearly identical, differing only in the specific hand signs required.

To practice them, one had to sit cross-legged, rest their hands on their knees, form the hand signs, and breathe in a steady rhythm.

Deep, slow inhales followed by long, controlled exhales. The process continued until a warm sensation arose deep within.

I had tried all five methods when I first awakened my aura. They were ineffective, useless. That realization had driven me to create my own approach, which I called Aura Condensation.

It was similar to the others but eliminated the need for hand signs. Instead, I used my aura to actively draw in energy from my surroundings.

I leaned forward, flipping open the notebook. The pages were filled with detailed notes, diagrams, and observations. Each word represented hours of practice, trial, and error.

"Meditating inside the mansion had its advantages and disadvantages," I wrote, my pen gliding across the paper.

"The security and lack of disturbances in the meditation room were beneficial, but the energy here was far less abundant than in nature."

I paused, tapping the pen against the edge of the notebook. The idea of meditating outdoors was tempting, but it came with significant risks.

"If I could meditate in the wild, I might significantly increase my energy absorption," I continued writing. "But the risks of being discovered—or worse, attacked—are too high. Hiring Aura Users for protection is both costly and difficult."

Aura awakening was rare. Out of a thousand people, only one could awaken their aura.

Of those, 60% awakened a Third-Tier grade, 35% achieved Second-Tier, and only 5% awakened the First-Tier grade.

As for the Divine Tier? The odds were one in a billion—a speculation at best.

I sighed and closed the notebook, leaning back in my chair. My gaze wandered to the window, where the faint light of the setting sun filtered through the curtains.

Revealing my aura to the public would have to wait. A few more years of secrecy, of preparation, and I would finally be ready. Strong enough to protect myself.

Once I reached that point, I would take over my father's businesses and my mother's properties. A life of comfort and security awaited me.

Knock, knock...

"Sir, your father has summoned you downstairs. There's a guest waiting for you," came Butler Steve's voice from behind the door.

I snapped the notebook shut and quickly slid it into the cabinet beside me. The action was instinctive, a habit born from a year of caution.

Standing up, I straightened my shirt and took a deep breath before heading toward the door.

---

As I made my way down the marble-tiled staircase, the soft click of my shoes echoed through the quiet hallway.

The golden light of the evening filtered through the tall windows, casting long, shifting patterns across the pristine floor.

When I reached the halfway point, my gaze fell on the scene unfolding in the hall below. My father sat comfortably on the cream-colored couch, engaged in animated conversation with three other men.

But then, I froze. My heart clenched, and I gripped the smooth railing to steady myself.

The man seated closest to my father—it was him.

The very man I dreaded, the leader of the group I had encountered in the forest while in my soul form.

He sat with an air of casual confidence, his arm draped over the back of the couch, laughing along with my father and the other two individuals.

But no amount of polite smiles or warm gestures could erase the image of his cold, ruthless expression from my memory.

I stood still, my breath caught in my throat. Every instinct in me screamed to turn and walk away, but I forced myself to move.

"Victor? Come down. Meet the new mayor!"

My father's cheerful voice cut through my hesitation. He gestured at me with a wide grin, clearly oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

"So this is Victor! He takes after his father, no doubt!"

The man—this leader, now introduced as the new mayor of the city—spoke in a loud, booming voice, full of charm and vigor. His words were accompanied by a hearty laugh that grated against my nerves.

For a moment, I hesitated, my mind racing.

'Compose yourself. Stay calm. Act.'

I forced a polite smile onto my face and continued my descent, step by deliberate step. Each motion felt heavy, as though the air around me had thickened.

"Hello, sir," I greeted as I approached. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on becoming our new mayor. I'm certain the city will thrive under your leadership."

I extended my hand, keeping my movements steady and confident.

He rose to his feet with a grin, taking my hand in a firm grip that was just shy of crushing. His sharp eyes bore into mine, gleaming with something I couldn't quite place.

"Woh! What a fine young man!" he exclaimed, his voice rich with false warmth. "You've got the confidence of a true leader. Impressive!"

"Indeed! Quite a promising young man!" one of his companions chimed in with a nod of approval.

My father's smile grew wider with every compliment, his pride evident in his expression. He chuckled lightly, pleased with the attention I was receiving.

But I couldn't relax. My mind was on high alert, and my body tensed with every passing second.

I couldn't afford to let my guard down. As I shook hands with the mayor, I made a conscious effort to compress my aura deep inside myself. The thought that he might sense it terrified me.

While their laughter and conversation continued, I couldn't help but feel as though I was being observed, analyzed, and evaluated.

The mayor's smile never faltered, but it felt as though he was studying me, trying to peel back the layers of my carefully crafted facade.

Then, his tone shifted slightly. Still smiling, he leaned forward, his voice dipping just enough to draw attention.

"You know, Victor," he began, his words smooth and deliberate, "I've received troubling reports. Young children in the city have been going missing lately—kidnapped, it seems."

He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced my expression to remain neutral.

"That's unfortunate to hear, sir," I replied evenly. "Thank you for the warning. I'll make sure to be cautious."

He held my gaze for a moment longer, his smile unwavering. "Yes, do be careful. You never know who might be watching."

Though his words were friendly on the surface, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of something darker. A subtle edge to his tone that sent chills down my spine.

The other men didn't seem to notice, continuing their lighthearted banter with my father. But for me, the warning hung in the air like a shadow, impossible to ignore.

I swallowed hard and nodded, forcing myself to keep up the polite act. Inside, however, I couldn't shake the feeling that his words weren't just a warning—they were a message.