SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign

His fingers flexed against his knees, and for a moment, the urge was there. To just pull on the corruption again, force it into a spell, drain it dry by violence the way he always did. But he knew better. That wasn't cleansing. That was feeding it.

Bootsteps crunched behind him. Lucen didn't look back until the shadow stretched across the fractured ground.

Varik.

The man stood there, silent as always, eyes sharp in the gloom. His presence didn't press like Elira's authority or Selindra's precision. It was heavier. Like standing next to a mountain.

"You're still leaking," Varik said finally.

Lucen pushed himself back to his feet. "Yeah, thanks for the compliment."

Varik didn't smile. "You won't solve it alone."

Lucen tilted his head, watching him. "Got a better idea?"

"Not here. Not now." Varik's gaze shifted toward the skyline, where the broken towers still smoked faintly. "But there are methods. Dangerous. Rare."

Lucen's eyes narrowed. "You mean suppression."

Varik's silence was answer enough.

Lucen exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "So I either burn myself out or tie myself to some half-baked ritual that probably kills me slower."

"Or," Varik said, voice even, "you learn to live with it."

The words lingered. Heavy. Not advice, not command, just fact.

Lucen's mouth pulled into a thin smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You really know how to inspire a guy."

Varik didn't reply. He turned, cloak catching in the faint wind, and walked away without another word.

Lucen stood alone again, staring at the cracks in the street. His system flickered at the edges of his vision, persistent, cold.

[Corruption Load: 63%]

[Decay Rate: 0.1% per hour]

[Instability Approaching.]

'So that's it, huh?' he thought. His hands tightened into fists, faint arcs of abyssal static snapping between his fingers. 'Learn to live with the thing that wants me dead.'

He looked up at the ruined skyline, at the faint lights still pulsing in the clouds where the rift had been. His grin returned, small, sharp, without humor.

"…Sounds fun."

The chamber was cold.

Not in the way a draft slipped under doors or stone radiated the night. This was colder. Intentional. The walls themselves were carved with old glyphs, older than the FHA, older than any standardized spellwork Lucen had ever seen.

Each line burned faint blue, thrumming with a resonance that pressed against his ribs.

Varik stood at the far side, adjusting nothing, explaining even less. He carried only his blade, though it rested against the wall now, bare steel humming faintly as if it too resonated with the glyphs.

Lucen sat cross-legged in the center of the circle etched into the floor. Runes crawled under his palms, prickling like ants when he tried to rest them flat.

"This is your solution?" Lucen asked, voice quiet but dry. "A glowing floor and a trust fall with ancient magic?"

Varik didn't answer immediately. His gaze was sharp, steady. "This is older than the Association. Older than the guilds. It will not cure you. It will anchor you."

Lucen exhaled, staring down at the circle. "Anchor me to what, exactly?"

"To yourself."

That earned a bitter smile. "You realize how stupid that sounds, right?"

"Hold still."

Varik moved closer. He knelt just outside the circle and placed his hand against the outer ring of glyphs. The chamber shifted immediately. Blue lines flared brighter, humming loud enough to rattle Lucen's teeth.

The system screamed into his vision.

[Warning: External Mana Interference Detected.]

[Protocol: Suppression Ritual Activated.]

[Integrity Risk: 78%]

Then the pain hit.

Lucen's body arched before he could stop it, every vein set on fire. Abyssal corruption surged upward, clawing through his mana channels, crashing against the ritual's pull like two storms colliding. His breath tore out ragged.

"Fuck—"

The word strangled into a growl as his arms shook violently. Sparks of abyssal static spat from his fingertips, scattering across the floor only to be swallowed by the glyphs. The circle didn't burn away. It drank him in.

[Corruption Load: 61%]

[Suppression Threshold Engaged.]

Lucen forced his eyes open. The world was wrong. The glyphs around him bent, twisted, forming shapes he couldn't focus on. For a heartbeat he thought he saw eyes staring back at him through the runes, endless white irises in black sockets.

He gritted his teeth. 'Not real. Not real. Just the corruption.'

His voice broke through the grinding of his teeth: "Varik, this feels less like an anchor and more like being chewed alive."

"Endure."

Of course that was Varik's answer.

Lucen slammed his palms harder against the floor, sweat dripping into his eyes, chest heaving. His body wanted to recoil, but every time he tried to lift his hands, the glyphs seared them back down. The ritual demanded contact.

The pain sharpened. He felt the corruption twisting in his veins, peeling, shredding like it was being torn apart thread by thread. His scream tore raw from his throat, bouncing off the chamber walls.

[Corruption Load: 59%]

[Suppression Active.]

His vision blurred. The edges of reality tilted, dissolving into jagged fragments of light and shadow. Somewhere in the haze, he thought he heard whispers, soft, taunting, not in any language he knew.

'Shut up.'

His own voice in his head, broken and ragged.

'Shut the fuck up.'

The corruption writhed harder, fighting the ritual, trying to push out through his skin. Black cracks spidered across his arms, glowing faint from inside. He clenched his teeth so hard blood filled his mouth.

And then, suddenly, Varik's hand pressed against his back.

The aura hit him like iron. Not soft, not soothing, iron. Steady. A mountain wedged against the storm.

"Breathe," Varik said.

Lucen dragged air into his lungs, gasping, his body jerking under the pressure.

[Corruption Load: 56%]

[Stabilization Threshold: Reached.]

The glyphs pulsed once, hard enough to rattle the chamber. Then the light dimmed. The humming cut.

Lucen collapsed forward, catching himself on shaking hands, sweat dripping onto the stone. His chest heaved like he'd just run through fire.

The system flickered weakly:

[Suppression Successful.]

[Corruption Load: 55% — Stabilized.]

[Decay Rate Increased: 0.3% per hour.]

Lucen spat blood to the side, half a laugh bubbling in his throat. "That was… terrible."

Varik pulled his hand back, standing again. "It worked."

Lucen sat back slowly, body trembling, vision still blurred at the edges. He tilted his head up toward Varik, a smirk tugging weak at his lips. "If that's your idea of therapy, remind me never to ask you for advice on anything else."

Varik didn't answer.

The chamber was silent again.

—

The sea was louder than Lucen expected.

Not that he'd ever spent much time around it. But standing on the deck of the transport, the endless churn of waves and salt spray hit different than the sterile hum of city towers.

The sky stretched wide, pale gray-blue, gulls cutting arcs overhead like they owned the air.

Lucen leaned against the railing, coat collar flipped high against the wind. His muscles still ached from the ritual, bruises running under his skin where the glyphs had burned. Every breath reminded him that half his insides were stitched together by willpower and stubborn spite.

'Some vacation,' he thought dryly. 'Dragged onto a boat by a mountain of a man who doesn't even believe in small talk.'

The system flickered across his vision, as if to remind him he wasn't free.

[Level: 55]

[Mana Pool: 480/480]

[Corruption Load: 54% — Stabilized]

[Decay Rate: 0.3% per hour]

At least the number wasn't climbing anymore.

Behind him, Varik stood with arms crossed, watching the horizon. He hadn't said much since they boarded, just motioned for Lucen to follow out of the med-bay and onto the transport.

Finally, Lucen pushed off the railing and walked over, voice low but edged. "You going to tell me why we're sailing into nowhere, or is this another one of your stoic surprise parties?"

Varik didn't look at him. "The island is old Association ground. Training, recovery, research. Few know it exists."

Lucen blinked. "So it's… what, a vacation home for terrifying hunters?"

"Rest," Varik said flatly. "You need it."

Lucen's smirk twitched. "You sure you didn't just want to get me out of Elira's line of sight before she decides to throw me in a cage?"

Varik didn't answer. Which, in Lucen's book, was basically a yes.

The transport cut across the water for hours before land finally appeared on the horizon. Jagged cliffs first, then sloping forests, then the faint outline of towers half-hidden by greenery. Not skyscrapers, stone and metal both, low but wide, humming with faint mana signatures.

The Association had been busy hiding this place.

Lucen whistled under his breath. "Not bad. You've been keeping the beachfront property secret from the rest of us?"

Varik gave him a side glance, unreadable as ever.

The dock was already occupied when they pulled in. Hunters stood waiting, half a dozen, maybe more, each carrying themselves with the kind of confidence that marked them as far above rank-and-file.

Their uniforms weren't the clean city issue, either. Practical gear, scarred armor, weapons etched with personal glyphwork.

The one at the front stepped forward as the transport docked. He was tall, with dark skin and close-cropped hair, his expression sharp but not unfriendly. A massive spear rested across his back, its blade glinting faintly with condensed mana lines.

"Varik," he called, voice carrying easily over the surf. "Didn't think I'd see you drag company here."

Lucen hopped off the ramp before Varik could answer, boots hitting the dock with a hollow thud. He gave the man a lazy wave. "Company, huh? That's me. I bite, but only when provoked."

The man's brows lifted faintly. His gaze flicked over Lucen in one quick, practiced sweep, the kind of assessment only an experienced hunter gave. Then he chuckled low. "So this is the kid Elira's council won't shut up about."

Lucen tilted his head, smirk tugging. "Depends. Do they call me a liability or an asset?"

"Both."

Lucen spread his hands. "Accurate."

Varik stepped down behind him, the dock groaning under his weight. "This is Kareth. Senior hunter. Island lead."

Kareth nodded once, sharp. His eyes lingered on Lucen a moment longer before he turned back toward the path leading off the dock. "Come on, then. We'll get you set up. You'll want rest before the others arrive."

Lucen fell into step, boots crunching against the stone path. His smirk stayed, but behind it his thoughts ran faster.

'Others. Right. Because nothing says vacation like a fresh pack of hunters wondering why I'm still alive.'

The island loomed ahead, green and quiet. But Lucen knew better than to mistake quiet for safe.