Somewhere in the back of my mind, a realization was forming, but I didn’t have the luxury to examine it yet. For now, all I could do was endure, shield, sing, surge, and bleed mana into the air, fighting a battle that was slipping steadily out of my control while the dungeon watched in absolute silence.

  The realization hit me in the middle of another exchange, as a quiet, undeniable truth. Astonius was not casting spells or activating abilities. There were no discrete activations, no telltale structures snapping into place. He was shaping mana directly, weaving it with intent and experience, letting the system exist only as a loose framework rather than a crutch.

  I’d tried that in the past. It was a useful lesson to learn, but it was much more difficult than just relying upon the system, especially when I was being pushed to my limits. Yet I knew the realization was important. There was something I was supposed to learn here.

  I needed to take a page from his playbook if I was going to survive.

  I stopped casting spells and, for a single heartbeat, simply felt the flow of mana around me.

  The shift was terrifying. Without the system’s guardrails, everything became heavier, less forgiving. Mana did not flow into neat channels or preapproved shapes. It resisted, surged, and threatened to unravel if my focus slipped for even a fraction of a second. I forced myself to breathe, to think in terms of outcome rather than ability names, and reached for lightning as an extension of will instead of a prepared effect.

  The electricity answered differently. It did not snap into a bolt or arc on command. It gathered, dense and restless, until I guided it forward with intent alone. I bent space ahead of it, compressing distance without invoking any formal spatial ability, just my raw affinity. I felt the lightning ride that fold like a rail, striking Astonius from an angle that should not have existed.

  His ward flared and held, but only just. I saw surprise flicker through the steady light in his eyes, not because the attack was stronger, but because it was unexpected. I pressed the advantage, shaping a shield around myself by braiding primordial energy into a lattice of force rather than layering predefined constructs. The shield burned hot and cold at the same time, creation and destruction grinding together, but it held with a stability that surprised me.

  Mana cost spiked brutally. My reserves dipped faster than they had at any point in the fight, but the effects felt cleaner, more efficient once formed. There was less waste, less bleed into unintended interactions. I could feel the difference between casting and shaping, like the difference between reciting a memorized phrase and speaking with my own voice.

  Astonius responded in kind, adjusting his patterns, but the cadence of the fight had changed. I wove lightning into spatial folds again, this time letting it spiral and branch as it traveled, each fork guided by intent rather than formula. I infused force constructs with life mana, not to heal them, but to give them resilience and purpose. The structures resisted unraveling because they wanted to persist.

  Spirit Singing threaded through it all. I did not sing to disrupt anymore. Instead, I embedded the resonance directly into the shapes I was forming, letting it hum through shields and strikes alike. The effect was subtle but profound. Astonius’ more complex weaves began to hesitate, not failing outright, but losing the perfect cohesion they had maintained until now.

  He drifted back, creating space, and for the first time since the duel began, he did not immediately fill it with another attack. His constructs unraveled around him in controlled dissolution, light and shadow folding inward with deliberate care. I held my position, wary of a feint, but felt the pressure ease.

  “You see it now,” he said, voice carrying without force. There was no judgment in it, only acknowledgment. “Order is important, but so too is chaos. Creation without destruction is nothing. Mastery lies in the balance.”

  I didn’t answer. I was too focused on keeping the delicate balance I had found, on maintaining control over effects that existed only because I was actively willing them into being. Any distraction risked collapse, and I knew it. I felt like a seamstress weaving a million different threads together, and it could only happen if I let go of my preconceptions about the structures and went with instinct. Something about this place was magnifying my understanding. I would have liked to think this was all me. But not only was I being tested as an ally, I was being shown the benefits of allying myself with the Ways.

  Astonius inclined his head, a precise and formal gesture, then bowed fully in midair. “You are a true master,” he said. “Not of power, but of adaptation.”

  His form began to dissolve as he straightened, breaking down into carefully separated bands of light and shadow. They coiled inward, canceling and reinforcing one another in equal measure, until nothing remained but a faint afterimage that faded into the ambient mana of the room. The chamber settled around the absence he left behind, leaving stone and air intact, as if the violence had never happened.

  Silence returned, deep and complete. The dungeon’s presence brushed against my awareness, and I felt the moment of completion register without fanfare. There was no triumph in the victory, only confirmation.

  I sank lower, letting myself descend until my boots touched the floor. Every muscle trembled, and my mana reserves felt like scraped wire, but I remained upright. Whatever line I had crossed in that fight, I knew I’d struggle to find it again. But it was a worthwhile goal.

  A glowing golden dome formed around the room.

  Completion: 90%

  You have completed the majority of the dungeon floor. As a reward, you will be granted a respite. This dome will remain in place for 6 hours. You may not leave, nor may any threat enter. Rest, recover, search yourself, and prepare.

  Chapter Sixty-Six: Time Out

  The golden dome held firm, its surface a smooth, luminous curve that sealed the chamber away from the rest of the floor. I could feel its presence like the hand of some child god, cupped over an interesting insect they found in their garden. There was no comfort to be drawn from it, only constraint. Yes, I was tired. Even a status sheet couldn’t fully capture the level of strain I’d been through. But time was a commodity I had precious little of.

  That raised another question. If the dungeon was locking me in place for six hours, what was I going to do with that time? I knew for certain that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Even if I wanted to trust Violet, I couldn’t let my guard down around either of them. It made me miss having comrades at my back who I could trust without question.

  All those stories about a hero who did it all on his own fell completely flat in my mind as I felt the depth of my exhaustion and isolation. It had only been about a day, and that was already enough. I truly had come to rely upon my team, and I couldn’t really see a downside to that. What was the point of power if not to help those you cared about? It held no meaning if you had to do it alone.

  I needed some recovery time, certainly, but a few minutes likely would have been enough. Before I could decide how to best use the time, a second question came to mind.

  Did the dungeon have some specific reason for locking me in place for this long? Six hours felt like someone, somewhere, was planning something, and that was more ‘somes’ than I was comfortable with. The more I thought about it, the more I became positive that was the case.

  I looked at the two women trapped in the dome with me and got a sinking feeling in my gut.

  Felania remained in her corner, knees drawn up, eyes unfocused, rocking slightly as if the world beyond her own thoughts no longer existed. Violet stayed nearer to me, cleaning her weapon, checking her armor, and pacing in short, deliberate circuits that never quite brought her back to the same spot twice. I trusted her more than the elf, but trust was not the same as certainty.

  Was the dungeon giving me this time to deal with these two? Would the dome drop if I removed them from the equation?

  I shook my head, mad at myself. Killing in battle, even other humans, wasn’t nearly so hard for me as it had been. There was a part of me that feared I was becoming a sociopath at best and a psychopath at worst, but I knew I was neither. I was simply a man doing what he had to do in unforgiving circumstances.

  That didn’t answer the question of what to do with these two, though. Trailblazer’s Mind had told me that they were both tests, but different flavors. Was I supposed to rescue one and kill the other? I was fairly certain now that Felania was a creature of the dungeon, but like the lich I’d just fought, she’d been created from the memories of another being. I considered asking her about it, but decided I wouldn’t be able to trust anything she said.

  Violet felt different. It was hard to say with the amount of interference I was getting from the dungeon, but I was fairly sure she was an actual person from a different system. That didn’t make her an ally, but it did give us a great deal in common to build upon. I felt for her. I knew what it was like to have your world turned upside down, and while I didn’t have many details, this integration she talked about sounded a great deal like the induction into the system my Earth suffered through. The fact that her Earth had been further down the timeline only added an additional dimension to the multiverse.

  It occurred to me that even though I might not be able to sleep, I could meditate. What I’d just been through had stretched me as a mage. I could almost hear Samvek’s voice. “Gains are great, but you always need to solidify your foundation to make those gains permanent.”

  I sat cross-legged on the stone and turned inward. I slowed my breathing and let my body settle into stillness, the kind that made every small sensation louder. I pondered what I’d accomplished and how the nature of magic worked. Rather than thinking about any specific spell or ability, I focused on how I’d interacted directly with magic.

  What that meant long-term was anyone’s guess, but there was something special about this octagonal room, as if it had been specially designed to make it easier to work with raw mana. I wouldn’t have had nearly as much success with it anywhere else. That just made it even more important that I seize the lessons learned here and make them my own.

  It also explained some things for me. The dungeon, or rather the Ways, had set up this challenge and brought me to this specific floor as a means of training me. Maybe it still thought that I was going to become its herald, or maybe it simply saw me as a potential ally worth investing some resources into. Either way, it was a being as old as primordials, and I couldn’t afford to lightly discard anything it gave me.

  A notification hit.

  Mana Channeling 994 >> 1006

  Your Mana Channeling skill has reached a threshold. From it, you gain a new skill—Mana Manipulation.

  Mana Manipulation (level 5): This skill enables you to work with the ambient mana in and around you in order to create magical effects similar to spells or abilities you are already familiar with. Despite the similarities, it is important to realize that spells created through mana manipulation are not the same. With this, your whims can become reality and your will can become law.

  Over time, it will be possible to absorb spells and abilities into this skill, making them permanently a part of you, but cutting you off from the shortcuts provided by the Heavens. This, too, is growth.

  I read the text a second time, trying to decide if the system was pleased or upset with this development. Samvek had taught me that the system couldn’t bestow a skill, that it only recognized and quantified skills you already had if they fit within its framework. That seemed to be the case here.

  Given the last line, I looked into myself and thought about my spells and abilities. I’d made a great deal of progress since coming into the dungeon, and some were even ready to evolve.

  Here Not Here (Epic 90%) >> 100%—ready to evolve

  Force Construct Mastery—Persistent (Legendary 13%) >> 17%

  Lightning Arc Mastery (Epic 62%) >> 84%

  Spirit Singing (Legendary 64%) >> 67%

  Blip (Legendary 1%) >> 2%

  Passive Abilities:

  Trailblazer’s Aura (Legendary 6%) >> 7%

  Core Spells:

  Primordial Surge (Epic 18%) >> 24%

  My Friends Sing My Praises—My Enemies Dread the Sound (Epic 23%) >> 26%

  Celestial Restoration (Epic 72%) >> 84%

  Area Flight (Epic 31%) >> 39%

  Cone of Winter’s Debuff (Rare 97%) >> 100%—ready to evolve

  Team Builder’s Physical Buff (Epic 2%) >> 5%

  Clean (Rare 6%) >> 72%

  Acid Arrow (Rare 9%) >> 60%

  Thermite Darts (Rare 1%) >> 46%

  Since I apparently had time to kill, I decided to look into evolving the two that were ready. I was frustrated to see how far Celestial Restoration and Lightning Arc Mastery still had to go, but there was nothing for it but to keep on using them. It was amusing to see how much faster rare-tier spells were leveling up than before. I had to assume that was because they were now significantly below the level of my class core.

  The first I looked at was Here Not Here. It was one of the foundational abilities of my build, but as I assessed it, I realized I hadn’t been using it to its full potential. It provided me with the opportunity to create multiple copies of myself, yet I rarely used that functionality. I’d kept it simple so far, attacking from odd angles or dodging attacks by simply being somewhere else.

  I’d learned to manipulate spatial mana without much system guidance, going so far as being able to open rifts as a way of teleporting without using a spell or system ability. Of course, this begged the question—should I upgrade Here Not Here and tie myself more closely to the system, or should I simply try to absorb my spatial affinities into my new skill?

  It was a heavy decision, and one that I’d normally think about talking to Selena and Samvek about, but I also felt like I’d be wasting my time if I didn’t evolve it now. I was still going to wait to evolve Terrakinesis until I talked to them because that was about more than me—it was about the growth of a planet, and maybe much more. But this? This was a decision I needed to make for myself.

  I looked at the upgrade options.

  Here Not Here is ready to evolve, thanks in no small part to your creative usage of it in conjunction with other spatial mana-related spells. You may choose to evolve it in one of two directions.

  Spatial Domination (Legendary 1%): With this ability, your spatial reactions will be 100% faster and will further improve as you level up this ability. You will now be able to appear in two places within sight of one another without any additional strain, doubling your attack power for a limited duration.

  Your ability to dodge and strike at different angles will radically increase because of the improved reaction speed.

  The Majesty of Space (Legendary 1%): This ability ties into your use of mana manipulation and will merge with several of your spells. There will not be an increase in your reaction time, as that requires extra system resources. This will, however, be the option with the most flexibility, allowing you to learn to duplicate almost any type of spatial manipulation.

  If you choose this evolution, the following spells will be absorbed into your new ability: Long Range Teleport (Legendary 2%), Portal Anchors (Epic 1%), and Stable Portal (Legendary 1%). With further practice, it may become possible to absorb other spells into the ability, increasing your mastery in the process. Examples of possibly absorbable spells include Area Flight and Assassin’s Veil. Many of your spells can be duplicated by spatial manipulation, but how to accomplish that is for you to discover. If you choose this path, you are striking out on your own.

  I grinned. It was almost like the system was pushing me out of the nest. I knew I was going to take The Majesty of Space. It might lack the immediate combat power, but I felt like I was doing pretty well in that area and could afford to plan for the long term. Becoming a true ruler of space would require versatility, but I needed to make sure there wasn’t anything I was missing.

  The choice rolled over and over in my mind. Were the Heavens pushing me to become better suited to serve as an Architect? Like the Ways, the Heavens wanted to use me to lead it away from stagnation. Fair enough. Despite our occasional disagreements, it had done a lot for me. I could reciprocate.

  As soon as I triggered the choice, I felt the power settle into me. My awareness of space expanded, and I felt more in touch with it than ever before. The things I could do with this! I had to stifle a laugh. That might come across as maniacal, and I didn’t want to scare Violet or Felania.

  Cone of Winter’s Debuff, another mainstay, was also ready for an upgrade. The options were similar in scope. I could do a straight upgrade that would amplify everything about the spell. My casting speed would be faster, and after battling the lich I knew I could improve there—his ability to cast multiple spells in the time I could cast one had almost done me in. It would also expand the range, enlarge the area of effect, maximize the damage, increase the probability of debuffs, and extend the duration. It was a win-win… win-win-win-win.

  I almost accepted it because of the simplicity, but I was feeling bold after the last upgrade.

  Your Spell, Cone of Winter’s Debuff, has evolved, absorbing the spells Frozen Flame, Acid Arrow, and Thermite Darts in the process. It has become Diversity of Cold (Epic 1%).

  Cold is more than its own concept. It is the absence of heat. Cold can burn in its own way, and slow enemy movement more effectively than anything else. With this spell, you can shape the cold into almost limitless manifestations. Your imagination will be your guide.

  With my upgrades completed, I took some time to practice with them after warning the women. Both the new spell and ability felt intuitive, but I quickly realized I could spend weeks or more learning what was possible with them. I looked forward to the day when I could, though I wasn’t exactly likely to have that kind of time for a while. Perhaps Time Pool would end up being more important than I’d realized.