Having exited the room, Arkan strolled down the pathway with steady steps.
His mind racing with tons of different thoughts.
But the biggest one concerned his magic.
He could feel the main properties of it, those being, All endless and all devouring.
Something that exists all over the realms, but doesn't interact, and when it does, it devours anything in its path.
A weird feeling, that's for sure.
'Can't be that hard.'
As he kept walking, he decided to try to manipulate and materialize his mana.
To begin with, something nearly no mage has ever attempted to do before.
Having just barely become a mage, all people do is get used to the feeling of their mana, over and over again.
Until they can finally form their first circle to utilize it.
Arkan's confidence came not just from how easily he could move it through his body, but from his very nature.
A being born from pride itself, giving though to something being too hard for them?
No chance.
'How long is this damn tunnel?'
Swearing slightly at the length of the pathway, he soon found all his attention back to his mana.
Thinking of it not being an issue at all, he quickly got to work.
'If I can feel it, I can shape it.'
As he walked along the rocky path, he started forcing his mana from his core, through his chest, shoulder, arm and then his hand.
Gathering a mass of mana in his right hand, he patiently let it rest for a second before continuing.
'Now, I just need to force it out.'
A smirk playing on his lips, he forced the mana through his flesh, past his skin and into the air right above his palm.
It took an unbelievable amount of strain to force it, but the smirk never lost its place on his sharp face.
'A singe push and it's done!'
Arkans smirk widened as he pushed with all his might, and it listened.
Dark violet energy soon materialized in his palm, though, it didn't last long.
The air started swirling and writhing uncontrollably, and Arkans smile still was not lost.
He tried to control it first, but to his immediate surprise, it didn't listen.
Not at all, and his smirk finally faltered.
A strange expression mixed on his pale face, as he tried his best to steady it.
Though, it was to far gone, way too far.
Its writhing form aggressively worsened, and space was starting to distort.
"Fuck!"
His smile vanished, replaced by a creeping desperation.
'I need to cancel it!'
He quickly tried to stop the flow of the mana and withdraw his hand, though that proved to be impossible.
Arkans arm refused to budge even a millimetre, desperation quickly grabbing hold of him.
"Shit! Stop damn it!"
He yelled out as the writing form of space suddenly collapsed.
Space distorted and a massive hole appeared right above his hand.
Slowly but surely expanding, his hand, his wrist and soon up to his elbow.
The pitch black space of nothingness soon stopped, completely covering just below his elbow.
The air folded and reality bent.
A sharp snap cracked through the air and then silence.
His arm was gone.
Not torn, not severed, just gone.
Reality had folded, and a piece of him was left behind.
Then the pain struck.
Not like fire, not like blades.
Like nothingness had sunk its teeth into his soul and dragged part of him out.
His nerves screamed in confused agony.
It felt like his body was searching for something that wasn't there, signals sent and never returned.
His heartbeat pounded through a limb that didn't exist, and the phantom pressure crushed his chest like a vice.
His lungs couldn't keep up.
Each breath felt like it scraped against broken glass.
Sweat poured down his brow as if his body were trying to cool a wound reality itself had inflicted.
His legs buckled and the world tilted.
He fell to the cold stone floor, gasping, convulsing, not from blood loss, but from the sheer pain.
He clutched the stump with his remaining hand, rage and pain blurring his vision.
This wasn't just pain, it was humiliation.
How could he, born from Pride itself, be undone by his own magic?
After what felt like weeks, spasming and convulsing on the floor, he finally regained some form of clarity.
And the first thing he noticed as he stared down at where his arm used to be was one simple thing.
There was no pool of dark red viscous blood, no splattered blood on his clothes, and more importantly.
He looked into the wound and he could see all components of the body.
His bone, his flesh, his cut of nerves and his skin, the layers forming the human body, but they were not bleeding.
As if it was completely preserved.
An open wound, none the less, but no bleeding or hanging tissue, just gone.
Not having the mind to keep looking at it, he quickly removed his outer shirt layer, wrapping the luxurious clothing around his stump.
He wasn't sure if it could be infected, and he didn't want to take any risk.
"I can't falter here, maybe those crimsons have a healer who can fix this."
He stumbled up from his laying position and slowly made his way along the pathway again.
"Yeah! Surely, they can fix it."
"The ancestors wouldn't have sent me to some dumb, backwater place."
"Haha, it will soon be back."
His words and expression held a weird disconnect as his face betrayed his voice.
Desperation and fear muddled his face as he quickened his pace.
After what felt like hours, he could finally see some light, though as he entered said light, what he saw nearly plummeted him down in desperation again.
He was looking down on a massive forest with a dark mist swaying between the grey and dead trees.
Huge mountains pressing against the backdrop of his view.
"I must go! I don't care how long it is!"
He quickened his pace once again and ventured down the mountain and into the eerie woods.
He kept walking for weeks upon weeks, not finding a single soul or beast in the forest.
The place was completely dead, just like it looked.
After two months of wondering through the dead woodlands he could finally see a clearing through the rocks and trees ahead.
He started sprinting, jumping over huge dead roots and massive boulders that came in his way.
He quickly searched his surroundings and what he saw made him happier than he had ever been before.
A maniacal smile forming as he sprinted towards the massive stone houses in the distance.
Arkan quickly arrived at the houses; it was a town of some sort.
"Not large, but more than enough."
As he passed houses and people peering out from their windows, they all wore strange expressions.
His once pristine noble clothes were now covered in grime and dirt and his overcoat covering his stump made him look as some sort of fallen noble.
Arkan soon arrived at the biggest house in the town, what he guessed was the town lord.
Its rocky architecture reminded him of that at home, and he kicked open the door with a loud bang.
He quickly found a startled old woman sitting in a rocking chair, her surprised red eyes staring right into his own violet eyes carved in a crescent moon.
After an hour or so, he had got all the information he wanted out of the poor old lady.
He was in northernmost area of what was called the Valdaran Empire, and this area was controlled by the Crimson Duchy.
Arkans eye could not squeeze into any more of a crescent moon then it was, but he was just that happy about the information.
"The ancestor is at least not dumb!"
He voiced out loud as he strolled passed the town and followed the path the old lady had told him about.
Though, not before taking some food from her, as even though demons don't really need to eat, he was used to it since birth.
Following the long quiet road with dead trees and dark mist surrounding it gave Arkan much needed time to think.
He had a rough idea about his mana attribute.
Space.
That was the only thing he could appoint as the reason for what happened in the cave.
Under his journey he had also not ceased manipulating his mana, though very careful at the start.
Arkan had never heard of a space attribute, but with all the thousands of attributes a mage can have, space should also exist.
It explained a lot about the feeling he got from his mana, all existing, all encompassing, and all devouring.
Though still only with a core, as he had not dared try to form a circle in the wilderness.
After a couple of days wandering, in the horizon he could see a massive estate, its architecture just like what his home was in demonic realm.
Massive fences were built around it, so he could only see the upper half portion of the estate, still, it was almost as majestic as his mansion.