2024-07-22 10:30:34
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Chapter 321
Morning did not reach the lower halls. Light filtered down in weak strands, bent by old glass and broken wards. The academy above Glassview woke to bells and lectures, but here, beneath stone and memory, time moved slower and heavier.Caster sat at the long worktable, staring at the potion. It rested in a wide crystal bowl, pale and steady, glowing like milk under moonlight. Thin rings of alchemical symbols floated just above its surface, rising and falling with a slow rhythm. Each ring carried a stabilizer Solon had helped design during the night.Caster’s hands were still. His veins were not. Faint crystalline lines pulsed beneath his skin, bright and sharp, but between them ran darker threads, thin and black, like cracks in ice. They faded when he focused. They returned when he did not.Solon stood across from him, arms crossed, his face drawn tight with worry and exhaustion. “I will say this once more,” Solon said. “And then I will stop trying to save you from yourself.”Caster
Chapter 320
The room was sealed from the inside. Caster had made sure of that. Every wall was layered with dampening sigils. Every corner held a stabilizer shard tuned to his rewritten mana law. The floor was etched with a slow spiral, wide enough for a man to lie down and still remain within its bounds.Even so, the air felt wrong. It pressed against his skin like something alive.Caster sat at the center of the spiral, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. A single lamp burned above him, its light steady but dim. Shadows clung to the edges of the room, thick and patient. On the table beside him lay the Skell Dust. It looked harmless.Fine gray powder, almost like ash, sealed inside a narrow crystal vial. When the light hit it just right, faint sparks shimmered inside, tiny echoes of a dead plane that refused to fully die.Caster stared at it for a long time. “You warned me,” he said softly, though no one else was there.The Skell essence inside him stirred, uneasy. He reached for the vial
Chapter 319
The laboratory was not a room. It was a wound. Caster stood at the center of it, surrounded by half-restored equipment, cracked mana lenses, and sigil frames scavenged from forgotten storage vaults. The space had once been part of Spectral Lime’s lower research wing, abandoned after a “structural failure” that no one had bothered to repair. Now it pulsed with quiet life again, drawn to him like iron filings to a hidden magnet. Light came from three sources.A suspended crystal array glowed pale blue. A ring of low-burning sigil candles flickered amber. And beneath Caster’s skin, faint crystalline veins shone with Skell essence, steady and alive.He breathed slowly, forcing his heartbeat to calm. This work could not be rushed.Sikoa leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching the door as much as she watched him. Solon sat at a side table, surrounded by open texts, his fingers stained with ink and mana residue. Neither spoke. They had learned when silence mattered.Caster rai
Chapter 318
Night pressed down on Glassview like a held breath. The upper towers still glowed with clean white mana light, but far below, where old stone met forgotten tunnels, the city breathed differently. The air smelled of dust, ink, and old magic that never learned how to die.Caster moved through the lower streets with his hood drawn low. His steps were quiet, but his senses were wide open. Every pulse of mana brushed his skin like a warning. The Skell essence inside him stayed calm, as if it too was listening.Sikoa walked a step ahead of him. She did not wear her mask tonight. Her face was sharp and tired, her eyes always moving. She carried no visible weapon, but the shadows seemed to bend toward her anyway, as they trusted her more than the light.“Stay close,” she said without looking back. “The wards down here listen before they see.”Caster nodded. “So do I.”They stopped before a door that did not look like a door. It was just a stone, cracked and uneven, with faded chalk marks th
Chapter 317
The vault did not calm after the surge. It only pretended to. Caster stood in the center of the ruined archive, breathing slow, his fingers still wrapped around the vial of purified Skell Essence. The glass felt warm, like skin. A faint pulse throbbed against his palm, steady and alive, as if the essence knew him and was waiting for permission to speak.Miri backed toward the wall, her face pale. Broken shelves lay around them like fallen ribs. Loose pages drifted in the air, caught in weak mana currents that refused to settle. “What was that,” she whispered.Caster did not answer at once. He was listening. The vault whispered too. Not in words, but in pressure and memory. The stones remembered every spell cast here, every fear, every hope. His hopes. His fears. “That,” he said finally, “was my past trying to kill my present.”He stepped toward the nearest desk. Half of it was burned black, but the drawers remained intact. He pulled one open. Inside were stacks of notes bound with
Chapter 316
Caster stood at the foot of the Spectral Lime complex and watched the building breathe.That was the first thing he noticed. The walls did not stay still. They pulsed, very slowly, like lungs drawing air. Pale green light ran through the stone veins, then faded, then returned again. Most people passed without seeing it. They had learned to overlook minor mistakes in Glassview.Caster did not ignore it. He pulled his coat tighter and adjusted the thin illusion sigil resting against his throat. The mana shape settled, smoothing his presence, dulling the sharp edges of his rewritten aura. To the world, he was no longer Caster Spellbound. He was Dr. Alven Cray, a minor theoretician from a forgotten outer college. Still, the building seemed to know him. “You remember me,” he whispered.The doors opened with a long sigh. Inside, the lower levels of the Lime division smelled of dust, ink, and old metal. Rows of desks stretched across the hall. Scholars bent over tablets and scrolls. Cryst
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