Crack!
Reyon's body smashed into the stone wall with a dull thud.
A web of cracks spread from the point of impact, dust scattering through the chamber.
Blood dripped from his lips as he slowly peeled himself off the wall.
"Haa..." he exhaled, wiping the blood away.
He clenched his fist.
"...I expected that."
Beneath his ragged robe, faint sparks shimmered—his emergency barrier had activated just in time.
A secondary shield, cast milliseconds after the first one shattered.
It wasn't enough to stop the damage, but it kept him conscious.
Reyon glanced at the image of Leywin.
The 4th-circle version of his grandfather stood still.
Calm.
Stoic.
Unmoving.
"As expected... even when he's just an image," Reyon muttered, his eyes narrowing. "His mastery over vectors... no joke."
He wiped the blood trailing from his nose, eyes burning with resolve.
"If a 4th-circle image is this strong… Then at 5th-circle, he could've—"
He paused.
"…He could've degraded Berth's Lightning Storm using σ alone."
A short chuckle escaped him.
"But this isn't the time to be impressed…"
His legs trembled slightly.
He staggered forward, clutching his side as the pain from his previous injuries surged again.
"The backlash from the countered Icicle… it's worse than I thought."
He coughed again.
A small splatter of blood hit the ground.
He reached into his robe, pulling out a low-grade healing crystal and crushed it.
The faint glow restored only a fraction of his stamina.
But it would do for now.
"I've already learned what I could from this image…"
Reyon's gaze hardened.
"If I practice what I saw—the way he layered mana and used σ simultaneously across multiple vectors…"
A pause.
"…Then I can replicate it too."
He flexed his fingers, feeling the ambient mana swirl around him.
It was time.
He stepped forward, standing in direct line of sight of the image.
No more testing.
No more exchange.
Just raw power.
"I'll end this here."
Reyon extended his right hand.
The surrounding mana bent, pulled toward him like a gravitational storm.
£ — Mana Transformation.
The magic arrays inside his Ring of Ferica lit up in golden hue.
One by one, he began stacking σ.
σ… σ… σ… σ… σ… σ… σ… σ.
"Eight stacks."
Mana violently surged in the air, howling with raw energy.
His eyes burned with intensity.
"—Lightning Split."
From his palm, the sky itself cracked open.
Dozens of jagged bolts screamed out like serpents, racing through the chamber.
Each bolt carried the weight of an 8th-circle spell—no, more.
It was overwhelming.
The ground scorched black in their path.
The image of Leywin immediately responded.
He raised his hand.
A wave of σ symbols flared, attempting to weaken the oncoming spell.
But—
"There's too many strikes."
The image couldn't apply σ to every arc of lightning.
It faltered.
Then the orb of darkness appeared in front of him.
The Infinity Symbol.
It began absorbing the lightning.
Crackling.
Swallowing.
But—
"…It's not fast enough."
Half the storm was still raging.
Electricity tore through the chamber, overwhelming the barrier.
And then—
BOOM!!
The lightning surged forward—
—and struck the image.
With a burst of light, the 4th-circle Leywin image finally vanished.
Silence.
Reyon staggered, blood running from his nose and mouth.
He dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.
His vision blurred.
"Ugh..."
He clutched his chest, heart pounding like a drum.
Smoke curled from his fingertips, his arm trembling from the strain.
He laughed bitterly.
"That… took everything…"
His hand hovered near the cracked portion of the Ring of Ferica.
It had barely survived the overload.
Suddenly—
Creak.
A grinding noise echoed through the chamber.
Reyon looked up.
Another door had opened at the far end.
His breath caught in his throat.
"No… way."
He dragged himself to his feet.
Hobbling closer, each step filled with dread.
"The first was 3rd circle…"
"Then 4th…"
His voice turned cold.
"Then this one…"
He didn't say it.
Didn't want to believe it.
But the implication was clear.
"…Could it be the 5th-circle image of my grandfather?"
A chill ran down his spine.
Even at peak condition, he knew—
"The current me… stands no chance."
He stumbled back, turning away from the door.
First—
"I need to recover."
His hand trembled as he pressed it to his wound.
"I need to master what I saw…"
"The image's vector usage…"
"His control…"
"The layering of σ..."
He coughed violently.
Blood dripped from his lips again.
"I… have to practice more."
"I need to become strong enough…"
"To bring that image down."
He turned, staggering away from the door.
The cold stone floor felt heavier with every step.
His limbs numb.
His vision darkening.
Reyon forced himself forward, step after step.
He emerged from the underground chamber.
The dim light of the main headquarters hall hit his face.
And then—
His knees buckled.
His body collapsed.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
"…Huh?!"
"Someone's there!"
"Quick—get the healers!"
"Is that… Reyon?!"
"What the hell happened to him?!"
Within minutes, members of Classers gathered around him.
One knelt beside his unconscious form, checking his pulse.
"He's alive! But his mana is in chaos!"
"Get the emergency healers from the eastern quarters!"
"Yes!"
"He's covered in blood—what was he doing down there?!"
"I don't know—but whatever it was, it almost killed him."
As the healers arrived and began casting stabilization magic