Reyon's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward into the darkness. With steady resolve, he moved toward the stairs that had appeared after he forced open the barrier. Every movement of his body was deliberate—a practiced ease born of years of training and countless battles. As he descended the stairs, his senses sharpened, and he could already feel the underlying patterns of magic all around him.
He reached the bottom and found himself in a vast underground chamber that stretched out like an intricate web. The architecture was not of this age—a labyrinth of corridors and open spaces intertwined with glowing lines of mana. Reyon's gaze swept over the expansive area. "This place… it feels like it was created as a test," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible in the echoing vastness.
Moving carefully, Reyon continued on, his steps light and precise. "I can feel vectors in every corner," he observed, pausing to extend a hand as if trying to grasp the invisible lines that danced in the air. "These must be traps," he concluded with a hint of a smirk. A rare excitement filled him at the thought of testing his abilities against such clever, arcane constructs. "I should use this chance to test my Vector Eyes," he resolved, knowing that his specialized technique would allow him to see what lay hidden behind these mystic defenses.
Reyon activated his Vector Eyes. Immediately, the world around him transformed. The invisible became visible—arcs of energy, precisely drawn lines, and even the tiniest nuances of the traps were laid out in brilliant, spectral detail. Every vector, every magical seam was now before him like an intricate blueprint. His heart raced with the thrill of it, and he whispered, "Now, nothing can catch me unaware."
Almost as if on cue, a sudden barrage of arrows whistled through the air. Reyon's eyes flicked to his left; the arrows were coming in from multiple angles, their paths clear in his enhanced vision. With swift precision, he dodged each projectile, his body moving like water as he weaved through the deadly storm. Each arrow was accounted for, and thanks to his Vector Eyes, he anticipated their trajectories effortlessly. "Too easy," he thought, a slight grin tugging at his lips.
Before he could exhale, the next challenge hit him—a volley of multiple fireballs hurtling straight toward his face. The heat was almost tangible as they raced across the chamber. Instinctively, Reyon extended his hands and invoked his Vector Barrier. The shimmering shield erupted around him, each pulsating line of magic meeting the fiery assault head-on. The fireballs dissipated in brilliant bursts as they struck the barrier, the force of the impact sending ripples through the protective field. "I've still got it," Reyon murmured confidently, steadying his breath after the sudden onslaught.
With the immediate threats dispelled, Reyon pressed onward until he finally reached an open field at the far end of the chamber. The quiet that replaced the chaotic energy was unsettling. Amid the emptiness, a single figure stood out—a young boy, no more than fifteen, with an uncanny familiarity in his features. As Reyon moved closer, his eyes widened in disbelief. The face before him was none other than his grandfather Leywin when he was young.
"No way… how is this possible?" Reyon's voice trembled with a mix of awe and confusion as he took a hesitant step forward. Desperate to reach out and understand this apparition, Reyon began to speak, his tone soft yet laden with urgency. "Grandfather? Is it really you?" he asked, his words echoing slightly in the vast open space.
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Without any warning, a flash-like arrow shot from the mysterious image. It pierced through the air with a speed that left Reyon with no time to react. The projectile found its mark, slamming into his hand with brutal precision. A sharp cry escaped his lips as pain seared through him. Instinctively, Reyon clutched his injured hand and began to bandage the wound as quickly as possible. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, the sting of the arrow mingling with his shock at the betrayal of the apparition he had just encountered.
Cursing under his breath, Reyon realized that the attack had been executed without a spell—a raw, unadorned casting of magic that defied the usual protocols he was accustomed to. "It's spelless casting," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. "That arrow… it was fired without even the slightest hint of a spell. And those vectors… they were cast within seconds!" His mind raced. This wasn't just any attack; it was something carefully designed to catch him off guard.
Reyon's thoughts churned rapidly. "If I don't keep my distance, he won't launch another attack. But what was that?" His inner voice was a mix of admiration and incredulity. "Looks like Grandfather used some magic to leave behind his image—a final safeguard to protect the legacy. But It was just a 3rd circle spell," he analyzed quietly, acknowledging the intricacy and power behind the technique. "I shouldn't worry too much, but I must never forget—he was a genius, incomparable throughout history."
Reyon's pride flared briefly, tempered by his respect for the legacy of power his grandfather left behind. "Even Berth's control over magic wasn't on my level, but this image… his control is in another league," Reyon admitted, shaking his head in awe. "To think I have to strategize this much to fight a 3rd circle being… And here I am, a 5th circle mage who once defeated an 8th circle adversary. That just proves how monstrous Grandfather was."
Determined not to be bested by an echo of the past, Reyon gathered his resolve. He recast his Vector Field, summoning the intricate lattice of energy once more around him. With renewed focus, he moved toward the apparition. This time, he knew what to expect. Multiple arrows suddenly materialized, fired with lethal precision from unseen sources. However, the reactivated Vector Field responded instantly, deflecting and dispersing each arrow as if they were nothing more than stray leaves in the wind. Reyon's eyes flicked over the scene, calculating every vector, every angle. "I won't let you catch me off guard again," he vowed silently.
The apparition—his grandfather's image— With a subtle, almost graceful backward step, the image began to cast a fire explosion. A series of explosive bursts erupted in a torrent, hurtling toward Reyon's Vector Field. The heat and force were immense, but Reyon's shield held strong. He watched as the roaring flames were scattered into harmless embers, the Vector Field working tirelessly to nullify the attack.
Not to be outdone, Reyon swiftly countered. "Let's see how you handle this," he declared, his voice rising with adrenaline. Without hesitation, he channeled his mana and cast a Water Surge. The water erupted from his outstretched hand in a powerful jet, its force measured and direct. Though he did not enhance it with additional magic, the surge was still potent—more than enough to overwhelm a 6th circle mage under normal circumstances.
But the image was prepared. In response, it conjured an Earth Wall—a solid barrier of compacted soil and rock. This wall, however, was no ordinary defense. Enhanced by multiple σ symbols, it radiated with an unyielding power that stifled the force of Reyon's Water Surge. The water clashed against the wall, its energy absorbed and dissipated, leaving Reyon momentarily stunned. "Looks like it won't be easy to defeat this image" he admitted, his tone a mixture of admiration and frustration.
Refusing to yield, Reyon quickly recalibrated his approach. He drew on the depths of his strength and called forth another spell—this time, a Wind Razor. He concentrated intensely, channeling his energy into the air itself. As he cast the spell, he meticulously enhanced it with σ symbols—five in total—to amplify its power to match that of a wind tornado, an 8th circle spell in sheer destructive force. The winds roared as they coalesced into a twisting vortex of razor-sharp force, hurtling toward the apparition with incredible speed.
For a brief moment, Reyon allowed himself to believe that this would be the final blow—the end to the enigmatic challenge before him. But as the wind tornado bore down on the image, an unexpected counter occurred. The apparition raised its hand, and with a precise and deliberate gesture, cast a strange symbol that Reyon had never seen before. In that instant, the swirling mass of the wind tornado was consumed within the symbol, as though it were being absorbed by an insatiable void.
Reyon's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind racing to understand what he had just witnessed. "No way… how did he defend it?" he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. "Could it be… the Infinity Symbol?" The words tumbled from his lips as he recalled the whispered legends and the stories his grandmother had shared about the ultimate symbol—a symbol that enabled Grandfather to surpass even the 9th circle. "damnit!" he exclaimed, frustration and amazement mingling in his tone.
But there was no time for further reflection. The apparition was relentless. Without giving Reyon a moment to breathe, it launched another attack. The very wind tornado that Reyon had summoned was abruptly reversed—sent back toward him through the mysterious symbol. The force of the returning tornado was staggering, slamming into Reyon's Vector Field though it wasn't as strong as original spell.
Instinctively, Reyon reacted. He doubled his efforts to enhance his shield, pouring every bit of his focus and mana into fortifying it. The augmented barrier shimmered as it absorbed and then dispersed the incoming tornado, its energy radiating in dazzling arcs of blue and white. Yet even as the violent force abated, Reyon could feel his body tremble from the strain. He took a quick, deep breath, his mind already planning his next move.
Just as he began to steady himself, a new, brutal assault struck without warning. Two sleek, deadly arrows materialized seemingly out of nowhere. They sliced through the air with lethal accuracy and, in a horrifying instant, pierced through Reyon's chest. The pain was immediate and excruciating—a burning, searing agony that left him momentarily stunned. His vision blurred as he clutched at the gaping wounds.
Forcing himself to remain conscious, Reyon tore strips of cloth from his sleeve and bandaged the wounds as quickly as possible. "What the heck…" he gasped between gritted teeth, anger and disbelief mingling with the pain. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest, and every breath was a struggle. Yet, despite the onslaught, Reyon refused to let the image gain the upper hand.
With a determined snarl, he forced himself to retreat, stepping back from the immediate range of the apparition's attacks. The image ceased its barrage. For a few long seconds, silence reigned in the open field—a silence filled with the unspoken question of what had just transpired.
Gathering his remaining strength, Reyon steadied himself and spoke aloud, his voice low and resolute: "What the heck… how did arrows pierce my Vector Field? There's no way a 3rd circle mage's arrows can break my Vector Field." His words were both a challenge and a confession of his own shock. The irony of it all stung deeply; his own shield, a testament to his mastery, had been breached by what should have been an inconceivable force.