The sky island's central platform thrummed with latent energy, its rune-etched stone shimmering under the morning sun, the air alive with a sharp hum of mana and the faint scent of ozone. Floating boulders hovered nearby, their runes pulsing softly, while the cliffs' prismatic light cast intricate patterns across Darius's training robes, their blue wind motifs catching the restless breeze. The fiery rings in the distance crackled, the island's vastness a dynamic stage for the lesson ahead. Ignatus stood across the platform, his youthful-old frame commanding in sleek, rune-embroidered robes, his gray eyes sharp with focus. He raised a hand, a condensed orb of pure mana forming above his palm, a silvery sphere crackling with raw power, its hum vibrating through the stone. "To grow your reserves, you must pull mana from the world, not just yourself," he said, his tone strict but instructional, the orb flaring briefly. "Today, you'll dodge my blasts, absorb their energy, and use it to strike me. Only their mana—none of yours. From your classes, you've felt natural mana's flow. Pull it now." The island's wind stirred, the runes glowing brighter as he spoke. "I'll stay still at times, vary my power to make it fair. I stop when you hit me. Until then, I won't." He launched the first blast, the orb streaking toward Darius, the air warping with its force, the platform trembling as the cliffs flared.

Darius activated Zephyr, his body shimmering into its wind-form, non-mana attacks passing through, his form a blur of gusts and light. He dodged the blast, the silvery orb grazing his robes, its energy singing the air with a sharp crackle. He reached out with his mana, trying to absorb its fragments, but the intensity overwhelmed him, his senses reeling as the spark slipped through his grasp. The island's wind surged, tugging at him, the boulders shifting as the runes pulsed. He managed to pull a faint wisp of mana, its warmth tingling in his core, and formed a small counter—a weak spark that fizzled before reaching Ignatus. Ignatus stood still, his robes unmoving, his eyes tracking Darius with calm precision. "Pull harder—assert your reality," he said, his voice steady, launching another blast, slower but denser, the platform quaking as it streaked forward. Darius dove aside, his Zephyr form weaving through the air, absorbing a sliver of mana, his counter stronger but still falling short, the island's energy humming with his effort, the cliffs' light flaring in response.

Darius's heart pounded, the exercise's demands pressing hard, his vow to prevent a dark future fueling his persistence. The system's silent aid flickered in his thoughts, amplifying his ability to adapt, though he didn't dwell on it. Elara's focus sparked briefly, her intensity a quiet push to keep going, but he centered on the task, the philosophy of asserting his reality resonating. He dodged another blast, its force shaking the platform, the boulders wobbling as he pulled more mana, forming a brighter spark that shot toward Ignatus, only to dissipate against a subtle deflection. Frustration gnawed at him, each evasion by Ignatus—still as stone, then moving with fluid grace—highlighting the gap in their skill. The island reacted, cliffs blazing, wind howling, the air thick with mana's sting. Darius's muscles ached, his reserves untouched but his focus strained, the absorbed mana fueling small blasts that grew stronger but couldn't touch Ignatus. His determination held firm, the lesson's demand to unify his reality with the universe's potential driving him, the runes pulsing in sync with his resolve.

Ignatus launched a series of blasts, varying speed and power, his tone motivational as he spoke mid-exercise. "In my Visionary days when I was active in my duties, I faced a lightning mage whose lightning tore the sky," he said, his voice cutting through the wind's roar. "I absorbed his mana mid-strike, turned it into a blade that ended the fight. You're pulling more—good—but your absorption's shallow. Deepen your will." The platform trembled, the fiery rings sparking, as Darius dodged a dense orb, its energy crackling past him. He pulled harder, the mana's warmth flooding his core, forming a sharper blast that streaked toward Ignatus, only for the professor to sidestep effortlessly, his robes glinting. Darius's frustration surged, his body weaving through blasts, each dodge a strain, each absorbed fragment fueling stronger counters that still fell short. Ignatus's feedback was calm, his strict demeanor blending with encouragement, their bond deepening as Darius pushed on, the island's energy amplifying the intensity, boulders shifting, cliffs flaring with each attempt. His progress was evident—brighter sparks, stronger blasts—but insufficient, Ignatus untouchable, the lesson a grueling test of will and focus.

The sky island's central platform vibrated with mana, its rune-etched stone glowing under the strain of their exchange, the air thick with the sharp tang of ozone and the restless hum of power. Floating boulders circled erratically, their runes pulsing like heartbeats, while the cliffs' prismatic light cast wild, shifting patterns across Darius's training robes, their blue wind motifs flickering in the swirling breeze. The fiery rings in the distance crackled, their sparks dancing as the island responded to the intensity of the exercise. Darius's body ached, his Zephyr form—a shimmering blur of wind and light—darting through the air, dodging Ignatus's pure mana blasts, each one a silvery orb or beam that tore through the platform's edge with a deafening crack. His mind burned with effort, pulling fragments of mana from the attacks, the warmth flooding his core, fueling counters that grew sharper but still couldn't reach Ignatus. The professor stood still at times, his youthful-old frame poised in sleek, rune-embroidered robes, his gray eyes tracking every move with calm precision, his presence a wall of mastery that Darius couldn't breach.

Darius's frustration boiled, his vow to prevent a dark future pushing him past exhaustion. The system's silent aid flickered in his thoughts, amplifying his ability to adapt, while Elara's intensity sparked briefly, her focus a quiet spur to keep going. He weaved through another blast, the orb grazing his Zephyr form, its energy searing the air. With a desperate surge, he pulled harder, absorbing a large fragment of mana, its warmth surging through him like a tide. His hands trembled, shaping the energy into a mana blade—a shimmering, crescent-shaped force that hummed with raw power. The island roared, the platform quaking, boulders tumbling, runes blazing white-hot as he launched the blade at Ignatus, the air warping with its speed. The cliffs' light flared, the fiery rings sparking wildly, the mana-charged air singing with the blade's passage. For a moment, Darius's heart leapt, the attack his strongest yet, a testament to his growing will, the island's energy surging in sync with his effort, his ambition to land a hit burning bright.

Ignatus moved, his form a blur, dodging effortlessly with a subtle sidestep, the mana blade dissipating into a harmless shimmer, scattering across the platform like fading stars. The island's hum softened, the boulders slowing, the runes dimming as the air stilled. Darius faltered, his Zephyr form flickering, his body collapsing to one knee, sweat dripping onto the stone. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mana reserves untouched but his focus drained, the absorbed fragments insufficient to keep up. Ignatus stood unmoved, his robes glinting, his gray eyes calm but unyielding, his agility a marvel that seemed to defy time. Darius's mind churned, reflecting on the impossibility of landing a hit on this man, whose centuries of mastery made him untouchable, a living storm of skill and power. He admired Ignatus's grace, the way he wove through attacks with effortless poise, and a quiet hope stirred—maybe, in time, he could achieve such prowess, even in old age. His vow to surpass Lucien pulsed, undeterred, but the gap between him and Ignatus loomed vast, a challenge that both humbled and fueled him.

His chest heaved, the platform's warmth grounding him, the island's energy humming softly, a gentle pulse that mirrored his determination. Ignatus watched, his silence a weight, his presence a reminder of the work ahead. The cliffs' light softened, casting delicate patterns across the stone, the boulders drifting lazily, their runes glowing faintly. Darius rose slowly, his legs shaky but his resolve unbroken, the air carrying a faint breeze that tugged at his robes. The exercise wasn't over—Ignatus wouldn't stop until he landed a hit—but the struggle had carved a deeper understanding of mana's living force, of asserting his reality against the universe. His hope to match Ignatus's agility burned quietly, a distant goal that felt both impossible and inspiring, the island's vastness a canvas for his growing ambition, suspense lingering for the trials to come.

The sky island's central platform pulsed with a subdued energy, its rune-etched stone scarred from the barrage of mana blasts, the air thick with the fading scent of ozone and the hum of restless mana. Floating boulders drifted slowly, their runes flickering like embers, while the cliffs' prismatic light cast soft, shifting patterns across Darius's training robes, their blue wind motifs shimmering faintly in the morning breeze. The fiery rings in the distance crackled, their glow dim but persistent, the island alive with the echoes of their struggle. Darius stood, his breath steadying, his Zephyr form shimmering faintly as he braced for Ignatus's next move. Ignatus, his youthful-old frame commanding in sleek, rune-embroidered robes, stood across the platform, his gray eyes sharp with unyielding focus, his presence a towering reminder of the gap between them. The air stirred, the runes glowing brighter, as Ignatus raised his hand, another silvery orb of pure mana forming, its hum vibrating through the stone.

The orb streaked forward, slower but denser than before, its energy warping the air with a sharp crackle. Darius dove aside, his Zephyr form weaving through the wind, the blast grazing his robes, its warmth searing his senses. He reached out, pulling at the mana, his core tingling as he absorbed a faint fragment, but the orb's intensity overwhelmed him, the energy slipping through his grasp like sand. The platform trembled, the boulders shifting, their runes flaring as he formed a weak counter—a flickering spark that fizzled before reaching Ignatus. Ignatus stood still, his robes unmoving, his eyes tracking Darius with calm precision. Another blast followed, this one faster, a beam of silvery light that tore a shallow groove in the stone. Darius twisted, his wind-form blurring, pulling harder at the mana, its warmth flooding his core. He shaped a brighter spark, launching it at Ignatus, but it dissipated against a subtle deflection, the cliffs' light pulsing in response, the air humming with the island's restless energy. Darius's frustration surged, his body straining, but his vow to prevent a dark future pushed him forward, the system's silent aid amplifying his focus.

Ignatus launched a series of orbs, their speed and power varying, the platform quaking as they streaked through the air. Darius danced through them, his Zephyr form a whirlwind of motion, dodging with fluid grace, his mind racing to absorb more mana. He pulled a larger fragment, the energy burning hot in his core, and formed a sharper blast, its light streaking toward Ignatus, only for the professor to sidestep effortlessly, his robes glinting in the cliffs' glow. The island reacted, the fiery rings sparking, the boulders tumbling slightly, their runes blazing as Darius's efforts intensified. His thoughts churned, Elara's focus flickering briefly as a spur to keep going, but he anchored himself in the lesson, the philosophy of asserting his reality resonating. He tried again, dodging a dense orb, its energy crackling past him, and absorbed a thicker stream of mana, shaping it into a pulsing spark that shot forward, brighter and stronger, but Ignatus deflected it with a casual tilt of his hand, the blast scattering into the wind. Darius's chest heaved, his muscles burning, the island's hum a steady pulse urging him to push harder.

The training pressed on, Ignatus's blasts relentless, their rhythm unpredictable—some slow and heavy, others swift and piercing. Darius weaved through them, his Zephyr form flickering under the strain, his attempts to absorb mana growing more desperate. He pulled a substantial chunk from a slower orb, its warmth surging through him, and shaped a mana blade, its edge shimmering with raw power. The platform shook, the runes flaring white-hot, the boulders circling faster as he launched the blade, its hum slicing through the air. Ignatus moved, his form a blur, the blade missing by inches, dissipating into a shower of sparks that lit the cliffs' prismatic glow. Darius staggered, his breath ragged, his body trembling from the effort, the absorbed mana barely enough to keep up. Ignatus stood still again, his eyes calm but unrelenting, the island's energy humming softly, the air carrying a faint breeze that tugged at Darius's robes. An idea began to form in Darius's mind, a spark of insight flickering amidst his exhaustion, its shape unclear but promising, his resolve hardening as he prepared to try again, the island's vastness a testament to the trials ahead.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.