Rein’s right hand trembled beyond his control as the air inside the chamber warped, static lightning crawling across the floor while violently surging mana pressed down from every direction.

  The second magic ring manifested above the stone floor, yet it flickered and wavered like a reflection shattering across disturbed water, unstable and resisting form, while an enormous repulsive force arose between the two spell structures that struggled to push one another apart.

  “LIZ, help me! The mana density here is too high—I can barely stabilize the circuit structure!”

  He forced the words through clenched teeth, calling out to the AI.

  [LIZ: Understood. I’ll handle spatial locking and positional control. You focus on sequencing and maintaining the mana link.]

  The moment her chat box faded, Rein’s blue eyes ignited—bright and razor-sharp.

  The trembling ring froze in place as if seized by an invisible hand, then slowly drifted inward until both rings aligned perfectly, overlapping at a single point with impossible precision—no ordinary human could ever achieve alone.

  [LIZ: Synchronization complete. Double Mana Refinement Ring successfully merged. Positional alignment and timing coordination at one hundred percent.]

  At once, both rings began rotating in opposite directions, accelerating until a deep metallic hum reverberated through the chamber.

  Ancient runes twisted and rearranged themselves in impossible patterns—

  as if the spell were rewriting its own laws in real time.

  The air groaned under dimensional compression. Papers tore free from the tables and spiraled into the air as waves of mana crushed outward, forcing even Rein to hold his breath.

  “This… is worse than the Mana Realm simulations…” he muttered, voice strained, both hands shaking as sweat soaked through his hair.

  “There’s no turning back, LIZ. If this fails, Sophia and I go down together. Accelerate the refinement—now!”

  [LIZ: Already increasing output… success rate rising—eighty-five… eighty-six percent…]

  The priceless Monster Cores placed at the center of the formation melted completely, dissolving into a storm of multicolored mana that spiraled like a vortex before compressing inward, condensing into a new ring forming near Sophia’s heart as her body hovered suspended in midair.

  This was the most dangerous phase.

  Rein could feel his muscles screaming, his palms burning with accumulated strain.

  The dual rings carried tens of thousands of shifting variables.

  Without LIZ stabilizing the system, Rein knew the structure would collapse instantly—just as countless refinement attempts throughout history had failed.

  That was the veritable wall of the Troposphere tier.

  They also faced the astronomical cost of gathering resources and had to rely on specialist refiners who charged fortunes for their services, and even then the world’s accepted success rate barely exceeded fifty percent.

  He remembered the forbidden theory recorded in the ancient tome resting upon the central table—

  double refinement rings operating in perfect harmony.

  Every attempt in history had ended in collapse.

  Even when two mages cast together, their timing could never align completely; the rings collapsed, and tragedy inevitably followed.

  Rein, however, had seen another possibility. By alternating Dual-Hand Casting while LIZ synchronized timing and mana flow down to fractions of a second, the so-called impossible dual-circle theory could finally become reality.

  They had tested it countless times within the Mana Realm, calculating ideal mana dispersion again and again—but performing it here, in Arath, inside a dungeon where space and time themselves fluctuated, multiplied the difficulty many times over.

  “…How much longer, LIZ…” he forced out, eyes trembling with exhaustion as immense reserves of mana drained from his body to maintain perfect balance.

  [LIZ: Hold steady… ninety-one… ninety-three… ninety-five…]

  Her messages flickered rapidly.

  [LIZ: Mana refinement success rate—one hundred percent! Dual rings stable. We did it… new record achieved!]

  At that declaration, Sophia’s body erupted in radiant light as purified mana surged through her, dark smoke bleeding away from her skin—the last remnants of impurity burned clean.

  “Yes…!”

  Rein shouted without realizing it. Though his face had turned pale with exhaustion, his blue eyes shone with fierce satisfaction. His strength gave out. He dropped onto the cold stone floor, vision dimming as silence rushed back into the Hub.

  Sophia descended slowly from the air like drifting cloud-mist.

  The instant her feet touched the stone and her eyes opened, a brilliant flash burst outward, and a violent gale exploded around her, scattering papers and tomes across the chamber as a miniature cyclone roared into existence.

  Then she closed her eyes.

  And opened them again.

  The storm ceased instantly—as though commanded by absolute authority.

  This was the mark of a true Stratosphere-tier Aeromancer—

  element and self perfectly aligned,

  where even the faintest shift of internal mana allowed her to command wind.

  Still seated on the floor, Rein forced himself upright and activated Mana Vision. The sight before him made him swallow.

  The mana circulating within Sophia’s body was impossibly dense.

  Not only had a flawless fourth Core Mana Circle formed—he could see the faint silhouette of a fifth beginning to take shape, not yet solid, but undeniable proof that her ascent to Expert-tier was only a matter of time.

  Her foundation had always been extraordinary.

  The cage that had bound her for years was gone.

  What remained was something born to rule the sky

  Sophia stared at her trembling hands, overwhelmed by emotions too vast to name—relief at breaking a wall that had imprisoned her for years, exhilaration at newfound power, and disbelief that everything had changed in a single night.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  But when she lifted her gaze and saw Rein’s pale, exhausted face, joy gave way instantly to concern. She hurried toward him.

  “Thank you… truly.”

  Her voice softened as she reached him.

  “But can you still stand?”

  “I’m fine… just need a moment,” Rein replied, waving weakly as he dragged himself into a chair and exhaled deeply. From his dimensional storage he produced mana and stamina potions, uncorking them and forcing both down in one breath.

  “—Ugh…!” His face twisted as if he had swallowed poison. “Once this batch runs out, I’m having a serious talk with Ingrid about the taste,” he groaned. “Honestly, these things are more dangerous than any dungeon boss.”

  He muttered while leaning back, vision blurring as exhaustion overtook him, waiting for the potion’s warmth to finally drag him back from collapse.

  “In that case, rest,” Sophia said, wrinkling her nose as the lingering stench of battle reached her again. “I’m going to wash up too.”

  Even now, neither of them looked remotely presentable.

  Their clothes were smeared head to toe with blind-locust ichor—thick, sour, and stubbornly clinging to the skin, the price they paid to hide their foreign mana scent.

  Sophia didn’t even wait for his reply. She spun on her heel and sprinted toward the hot spring, desperate to scrub the filth off before it fused permanently with her soul.

  Rein finally glanced down at himself, then leaned closer to his cloak and actually sniffed, as if his senses still refused to accept what his eyes plainly told him—only to recoil instantly, face twisting in pure horror.

  “Ugh… this smells worse than the month I locked myself in a lab and forgot sunlight existed.”

  …

  …

  The day of Rein’s duel arrived beneath an atmosphere so tense it felt hard to breathe.

  Mira and Boris reached the Elemental Magic arena in the early evening, the last light of the sun washing the academy in dull orange.

  Exhaustion clung to both of them.

  They had spent the entire day searching—library, dormitories, markets, even the council hall.

  Not a single trace of Rein.

  With only a handful of hours left before the duel began, a disappearance this complete could only breed ugly rumors, yet in the midst of the silence and the watchful stares gathering around them.

  Yet both of them held onto the same stubborn belief—

  Rein was not the kind of person who ran.

  The Oval Arena of the Department of Elemental Magic rose before them—four massive tiers of stone seats stacked in perfect symmetry.

  In sheer scale it could rival the Battlemage arena.

  The place felt older than the academy itself—as if the stone remembered spells long forgotten by the students who now walked above it.

  Along the crest of the weathered wall, statues of past elemental grandmasters stood at all four cardinal directions like guardians, their carved gazes fixed eternally on the proving ground below, watching each new generation attempt to justify its pride.

  Eight towering pillars encircled the arena, runes glowing faintly as they sustained a barrier capable of enduring even a Primary Stratosphere assault.

  Silence draped itself over the stands as seats began to fill, and all eyes kept drifting—again and again—to the challenger’s entrance, still empty;

  Mira squeezed her hands until her fingertips blanched, while Boris stood rigid as a statue, gaze locked on the vacant field below.

  “Ingrid—why isn’t your friend here?” Boris asked at last, breaking the thin, suffocating quiet between them.

  Mira, seated on the polished stone benches, propped her chin on both hands and let out a small sigh.

  “She said Master Chloe had an urgent mission, so Ingrid and the other healers all got summoned; she can’t come cheer for Rein, so she told me to cheer for her too.”

  “An urgent mission—right now?” Boris’s brow furrowed, caution sharpening his eyes.

  “Yeah… weird, isn’t it?” Mira replied absently at first, then met his gaze, her expression tightening.

  “Hey… do you think the Student Council pulled something dirty on Rein? Like… stabbing him in the back?”

  Boris fell silent for a moment, as if sorting through memories of that elusive boy who always seemed to move one step sideways from everyone’s expectations, and when he answered, his voice was heavy with certainty.

  “Rein isn’t someone you can corner that easily. You know that.”

  He folded his arms and sat down beside her, staring out at the empty arena floor.

  “Honestly… while we’re sitting here worrying ourselves sick, he might be somewhere setting up a plan no one would ever think of. Doesn’t that sound like him?”

  Mira nodded, and the words eased something tight in her chest, because if it truly was Rein… then what looked like a crisis to them might only be a piece on the board he had already placed.

  A few hours later, the stands were crammed with students from every discipline across the academy, packed tighter than Mira had ever seen, and for a moment it felt as though the only event more heavily watched would be the biennial AGMT itself.

  Normally, the Elemental Magic arena opened only for official duels or Departmental examinations. However, the Student Council authorized the elevation of what should have been an ordinary challenge into a formally sanctioned spectacle.

  The stands split naturally.

  Nearly seventy percent were nobles.

  The rest—commoners—filled what remained.

  Separating the entrances was an additional measure. No one pretended otherwise.

  The principle openly endorsed by much of the Department of Elemental Magic faculty, many of whom came from major noble houses and believed in “pure blood” far more than personal merit.

  Nobles pointed to numbers—more Stratosphere mages born from their bloodlines.

  Commoners answered with bitterness: it was never talent. Only resources.

  It was a wound so old it had become structural, and so even before the duel began, insults and jeers—long-harbored contempt dressed in loud voices—clashed with cheers until the arena roared like a furnace.

  The sun set, the air sharpened into cold that everyone could feel, and patches of piled snow still remained on the field below.

  At the highest tier, the Student Council finally appeared.

  Alexander Whitmore sat at the center.

  Winter Faction surrounded him.

  Henry and Catherine occupied the seats to his left—placement deliberate enough to feel like a declaration.

  “Commoners are like rats,” Edward Cavendish muttered beneath his blindfold. “Loud. Crude.”

  “You shouldn’t phrase it so crudely, Edward,” Oliver Pembroke drawled from beneath his black cloak.

  “As benevolent rulers, we should treat this as education—discipline the rats… and return them neatly to their holes.”

  Alexander merely laughed, slow and indulgent.

  Then he stepped forward onto the dais, arms spreading wide with the effortless confidence of a king who had never once expected refusal.

  A Stratosphere-tier wave of mana rolled outward from him.

  The pressure settled over the arena like descending gravity, and voices died one after another—until silence itself seemed forced to kneel.

  “As Chair of the Student Council,” Alexander began, voice amplified across the arena,

  “we welcome this duel—an opportunity for the common class to prove its worth.”

  Cheers erupted from the noble stands.

  Across the arena, the commoner side fell into a tight, breathless silence.

  “If the common class prevails,” Alexander continued slowly,

  “class restrictions will be abolished—Council eligibility, mediation rights, all of it.”

  He paused just long enough for hope to rise.

  “But if they lose…”

  His smile widened.

  “Then equality in magic will be exposed as fantasy—

  and bloodline supremacy will stand confirmed.”

  Behind him, Oliver glanced toward the noble stands. Support was already secured.

  This duel was never about fairness.

  It was a public lesson—crush dissent, rewrite the rules, and reclaim prestige in a single stroke.

  A thin smile crept across the necromancer’s pale face.

  “Today’s duel will proceed under council authority,” Alexander declared.

  “Each side fields three representatives. When one side can no longer fight—the other claims victory.”

  He gestured toward the arena floor, where three white-robed officials waited—faces calm, loyalties already purchased through Russell influence.

  “To prevent excess and ensure fairness, the Council has appointed these three faculty judges—from the Department of Elemental Magic, the Department of Battlemage, and the Department of Dark Magic—to oversee the match.”

  Alexander smiled broadly, then concluded through an amplified spell, his voice ringing cleanly into every corner of the stadium.

  “Remember this,” Alexander said softly.

  “Once a spell is cast… it cannot be recalled.”

  A pause.

  “Under Arcadian dueling law, death during a sanctioned duel is considered… an accident.”

  His gaze swept the arena one last time—measuring, judging.

  Then his voice fell like a verdict.

  “Let the duel… begin.”

  These entries expand the lore and mechanics introduced in this chapter.

  Completely optional—read only if you enjoy diving deeper into the system.

  Magic & Spell Techniques

  Double Mana Refinement Ring

  A forbidden refinement theory brought into reality: two refinement rings operating in perfect harmony to push refinement success beyond the historical ceiling. In practice, the second ring naturally destabilizes due to repulsive interference between spell structures, making synchronization the true barrier rather than raw mana alone. LIZ solves the “human timing limit” by handling positional alignment, spatial locking, and sub-second timing coordination.

  Ring Repulsion Interference

  The violent rejection force that forms when two large-scale refinement structures coexist in close proximity. It manifests as flickering geometry and “water-reflection” instability, attempting to push both rings apart until one collapses. This is why historical attempts ended in disaster even when two mages refined together.

  Spatial Locking & Positional Control (LIZ-Assisted Stabilization)

  A support-layer function LIZ applies to “freeze” unstable spell geometry in place, then drift and align both rings to overlap at a single point with impossible precision. This is not the refinement itself, but the scaffolding that makes dual-ring refinement physically possible.

  Counter-Rotation Synchronization

  A refinement behavior where the two rings rotate in opposite directions and accelerate until the chamber resonates with a metallic hum. The counter-rotation stabilizes the vortex compression pattern, allowing multi-colored core-mana to spiral, compress, and condense into a new internal circle.

  Self-Rewriting Ancient Runes

  During peak refinement, the runes “twist and rearrange” as if the spell is rewriting its own laws in real time. This suggests the ring is not a static formula but a dynamic system that reconfigures to maintain stability under changing variables (mana density, space-time fluctuation, user strain).

  Troposphere Wall (Refinement Barrier)

  The real-world bottleneck of advancement: refinement success rates historically hover around ~50% even with specialists, because perfect timing alignment and stable multi-variable control exceed normal human capability. This chapter reframes the “wall” as a systems problem—resources, specialists, and synchronization—rather than talent alone.

  Purification Discharge (Impurity Burn-Off)

  A visual/physical phenomenon where “dark smoke” bleeds away from the recipient’s body as residual impurity is burned clean by purified mana flow. It signals successful integration, not merely temporary empowerment.

  Stratosphere-tier Aeromancer Manifestation (Sophia’s Breakthrough)

  Upon awakening, Sophia releases a violent gale that becomes a miniature cyclone—then halts it instantly as if commanded by absolute authority. This is presented as the hallmark of Stratosphere-tier alignment: element and self perfectly synchronized, where even tiny internal mana shifts can command wind.

  Fourth Core Mana Circle (Confirmed) & Fifth Circle Silhouette (Emerging)

  Mana Vision confirms a flawless fourth circle formed near the heart, and a faint silhouette of a fifth beginning to take shape. The fifth is not completed, but its presence implies her ceiling has been raised and Expert-tier Stratosphere is now “a matter of time” rather than an impossibility.

  Location

  Oval Arena (Department of Elemental Magic)

  A colossal ancient arena with four massive tiers and eight towering rune pillars maintaining a barrier strong enough to endure even Primary Stratosphere-tier assaults. The architecture frames the duel as a legacy stage—“stone that remembers forgotten spells.”

  Arena Barrier Pillars (Runic Sustain System)

  Eight pillars encircling the arena, runes glowing faintly to sustain a high-durability barrier. Functionally, they are the safety infrastructure that allows sanctioned high-tier combat to occur in public without catastrophic spillover.

  Kingdom of Arcadia Law

  Arcadian Dueling Law: “Death Is an Accident”

  A chilling legal clause invoked openly: death during a sanctioned duel is treated as an accident. This reframes the match as an authorized execution channel, raising the stakes far beyond school rivalry.

  “Once a Spell Is Cast… It Cannot Be Recalled.”

  A formal warning and a psychological weapon. It signals that misfires, collateral, and lethal outcomes are the caster’s responsibility—and that hesitation is treated as weakness.