After parting ways with marshal
The heavy door closed behind Reyon as he stood alone at the far corner of the Classers' stronghold—the same hidden hallway that led to the underground chamber where he once faced the image of Leywin at the 4th circle.
His footsteps echoed quietly against the stone floor. Dust, long undisturbed, swirled around his boots.
He stared at the narrow staircase spiraling downward.
"So… back here again."
With a long breath, he descended.
[The chamber grew darker, the mana around thickening as the temperature dropped]
As he moved forward, the familiar traps activated again. Arrows of mana whistled past him. The stone beneath his feet shifted without warning, forcing him to rely solely on Vector Eyes to predict and react.
His gaze sharpened.
"Tch, these are even more precise than before."
His body moved almost on instinct, avoiding the flame darts and pressure tiles with micro-adjustments in movement.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Looks like these traps aren't meant to kill… just to sharpen my vector eyes. Hah, clever."
He finally emerged into the open space—the one sealed until he defeated the last image. The circular arena had a dome ceiling, carved with runes and glowing glyphs. At the center stood a figure.
It was him again.
Leywin.
around twenty-five by the looks of it.
The image radiated pressure. A powerful weight crashed into Reyon's body just from standing in its presence.
He felt his breath hitch.
"...That pressure..."
His fingers curled unconsciously. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
"This pressure... it's almost the same as when I first met Grandma."
His heart raced.
"The strength of a 9th-circle magician...?"
He gritted his teeth.
"This is just a 5th-circle image… yet the pressure feels like the 9th circle."
His jaw tightened.
"Can I even handle this with my current strength…?"
He took a shaky breath, remembering the last time he had witnessed a 9th-circle spell—Berth's final attack that nearly ended his life.
His grandma left spell on him that saved his life from sea of hellfire.
"No matter how much I try… I won't be able to recreate that level of attack."
His hands trembled slightly.
"And if this image is truly near that strength..."
He paused.
"No."
He shook his head and clenched his fists.
"I can't just give up."
In an instant, Reyon gathered energy at his fingertips. His ring shimmered as the σ symbol stacked once… then again… and again.
Eight times in total.
With a flick of his palm, he unleashed the spell.
Icicle Burst.
A blizzard of sharpened ice launched toward the image.
[The image moved.]
Leywin's image calmly lifted his hand, casting a symbol in response.
σ.
Reyon's eyes narrowed.
"He's lowering the power of the attack... and—"
Blaze Wave.
Flames erupted in the chamber, consuming the icy shards like dry leaves.
A swirl of steam filled the arena.
"Tch… as expected," Reyon growled, shielding his face.
But then he paused.
"...He only used five σ symbols."
His eyes lit up with realization.
"Of course… Grandma told me… Grandpa only developed the Ring of Ferica in his thirties."
He clenched his jaw.
"So this image doesn't have access to the ring. Which means five symbols is the most he can stack."
A spark of hope flickered in his chest.
"I can use that."
But his smile faded the moment he saw the orb floating silently above the image's palm.
"...That orb."
He felt a chill run through his veins.
"Now that he's at 5th circle… he can use that symbol far better."
His gaze stayed locked on the orb.
"That thing… it can absorb the strongest 9th-circle spell."
He gulped.
"If he actually uses that, I won't be able to shatter it."
He turned his thoughts inward.
"...But he hasn't used it yet."
He darted forward and cast Blaze Rain, this time layering it with six σ symbols.
[The image countered.]
Glacial Surge erupted from his fingertips, nullifying the flames.
"Another counter."
Reyon backed up.
"Again...?"
He cast Flare Needle—a mid-range, precise piercing attack—this time with eight σ symbols.
It met a wall of stone and shattered.
The third spell came, a lightning-infused version of Thunder Bloom, stacked with six symbols.
[Again, countered.]
The image moved mechanically. No rage, no powerplay—just clean defense.
Reyon's eyes narrowed.
"He's only defending."
His fingers twitched.
"Just like last time…"
He recalled how the 4th-circle image only reacted when Reyon reached a specific threshold of force.
"This must be the same."
His eyes shifted toward the orb again.
"And he hasn't used that orb once."
He clenched his jaw.
"Because if he did… this fight would already be over."
He inhaled deeply.
"I have to do it… force him to the point where he has to use that orb. That must be the condition."
[He stepped back.]
Mana flooded his core.
The σ symbol stacked again… and again.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven...
His nose started bleeding.
"...Twelve."
The twelfth symbol shimmered at the edge of his ring.
He felt his knees buckle. Pain shot through his brain.
"Guh—!"
Corrupt mana began flooding his mind.
He gritted his teeth, blood dribbling down his chin.
"I… I have to endure..."
He raised his hand.
Icicle Burst – Twelve σ.
The air twisted.
The room froze.
A monstrous wave of cold rushed out.
The spell carried the same intensity as Marshal Serena's Absolute Zero.
[The image stood firm.]
But as the wave neared—Leywin's image lifted his hand calmly.
And then...
∞.
The Infinity symbol rotated silently above his palm.
The orb opened.
And swallowed the entire blizzard.
The temperature normalized instantly.
Reyon gasped.
"Haa… haa…"
He dropped to his knees.
"I knew it..."
His body trembled violently.
"That was it… the condition…"
His eyes were bloodshot.
"If I can force the image to the point where it needs to use that orb… that's the win condition."
He collapsed onto one arm, his fingers twitching.
"Dammit... my brain…"
The ringing in his ears grew louder.
"I… I can't… pass out… not yet."
[The image disappeared.]
He looked up through bleary vision.
The chamber shimmered, and a small pedestal rose from the floor at the center.
A soft glow came from the gem floating atop it.
Reyon pushed himself to his feet.
"I… have to get the jewel."
He staggered forward.
His breathing ragged.
Corrupt mana continued clawing at his thoughts.
But he kept walking.