The morning chill pierced his skin. Behind the stone cottage on the outskirts of Kazami Village, Raid brought his axe down. The firewood split with a dull crack. Again. And again. A monotonous rhythm. There was a time when he could shatter ten logs at once with a flash of magic, but now he had only his own strength to rely on. "Tch..." A sharp pain shot through his lower back. Raid planted the axe in the ground and straightened his spine. His deep amber eyes gazed up at the sky. The autumn sky was high and cloudless. White breath spread thinly and quickly faded. Forty-two years old. The morning of the once-renowned greatest mage of the empire began with firewood splitting and back pain. Black short hair was streaked with white in places, and his lean frame was more toned than his age suggested, but a faint blue scar ran along his left arm—the mark of magical fusion. Evidence of the day he'd tried to test his own limits and failed. Even now, it ached from time to time. "That old