Mark had chosen a quiet spot just outside the tenders' secondary shelter. His core naturally purified the surrounding Corruption, and the tenders—being the most vulnerable—benefited most from the buffer. His construct could keep out much of the blight, but there was only so much he could do to stop it from seeping up through the earth.

His earlier test of [Warden of Corruption] had thinned the malevolence in the air, though it hadn't erased it completely. For now, he had to trust that his core would handle the rest.

He forced his thoughts back to the task at hand, his max-level spells.

The first was [Force Bolt].

Lately, Mark found himself casting it less. With his expanding reserves and stronger spells filling his arsenal, it had fallen into the background. Still, it remained a staple. A single bolt was only strong enough to bring down weaker foes—Corrupted humanoids and the like—but in numbers, they could still harry even the toughest enemies.

He had once chosen to refine this spell instead of evolving it, and he saw no reason to change that now. Raising the level limit had drastically lowered its cost to the point where he could conjure two bolts for a single point of Mana. That efficiency alone kept it relevant. Now he was curious to see how far it would go.

He selected 'improve'.

The system responded with its usual icy precision, nothing like the lingering echoes of feeling he'd sensed when using the ticket. This was all business. The upgrade settled in, and the spell's level cap rose to thirty.

Mark tested it at once. Power gathered, and instead of two, three bolts of force spun to life above his open palm. All from a single point of Mana.

He turned his hand slightly, watching the bolts spiral around one another. The system was clearly pushing the spell toward quantity over raw power, but Mark wasn't complaining. That was exactly what he needed.

The next spell on his list was [Prana Pulse].

Like [Force Bolt], this was one he couldn't afford to see altered too drastically. [Prana Pulse] was his diagnostic tool, mapping conditions and relaying vital information he could have gathered on his own, but far more efficiently. It processed dozens of variables at once, and in healing, every heartbeat mattered. He'd lost count of the times it had saved his life, or someone else's.

When he chose improve and triggered the spell, the difference was immediate. Prana surged through his body with startling speed. The cost hadn't lessened—its initial drain was already negligible—but the return was far faster, the information snapping back to him almost instantly.

In others, it would be marginally slower, but the fresh speed was still a welcome development.

The third spell [Regenerate] was one Mark had found great use for, but it was also a good candidate for evolution.

Mark had found that with the increase in his strength, it became redundant if he was around. Now, the only uses for the spell were when someone was going to do something stupid out of his direct reach. Namely, when Jonathan jumped into a pack of Corrupted, knowing he would be hurt. It was nice to have, but Mark could see enough potential in the spell that it was worth risking it.

Mark hit evolve before he could convince himself otherwise. The spell melted away and reformed in his mind.

Spell acquired: Clustered Regen

By bundling a packet of Prana, the user can set a long-lasting heal on a target with specific intent. The bundle will continue to accomplish its design until all its resources are used up.

If cast on multiple targets, the spells will interlock to provide increased reserves. (Physical contact is required to transfer Prana between recipients)

 

Duration can be increased or reduced for an inverse effect on efficiency.

The Prana attribute affects the strength and complexity of the bundle.

Mark frowned as he thought the spell through. It was similar to the old version with one additional line of text. The upside of this spell was its simplicity: set it and forget it. Once applied, it continued working with minimal input from him. But that was also its flaw—he couldn't adjust its strength afterward or replenish its energy once it ran out.

To test his theory, Mark needed a volunteer. That was easy enough; when he ducked his head into the tenders' shelter, Jose stepped forward without hesitation.

"You okay, Mark? What do you need help with?" he asked, fidgeting like a man unused to standing idle behind protection. Which, as a soldier, he likely was.

"Nothing too big,' Mark said. "I just want to test a spell. Would you be willing to help?"

Jose gave a relieved nod and followed him back outside to Mark's chosen spot. "So what do you need me to do?" he asked, a touch of eagerness in his voice.

"For now, just sit. I also wanted to check how you're holding up. How's everyone inside?"

Jose's expression darkened. 'They're scared, of course. I'm just trying to make them see that if we want to survive, we have to work together.'

A warm smile tugged at Mark's lips. 'If no one else has said it, you're doing a good job keeping people calm. We're grateful.'

Jose's cheeks reddened. He cleared his throat and glanced aside. 'So… about this spell?'

Mark nodded and extended his hand. 'Give me yours a moment.'

Jose scratched the back of his head but complied. Mark spread a construct, applying [Clustered Regen] to them both—fifty Prana into Jose, only one point into himself. If his theory was right, the difference would be the key.

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"Alright. I'm about to do something drastic. Close your eyes if you don't want to see blood."

Before Jose could react, Mark suppressed his natural healing in his left arm. His [Regenerative Adaptation] resisted furiously, but he pushed through. With his high Resistances, even his dagger couldn't pierce his skin enough for the test—so he conjured a pinprick orb of light and fired it through his forearm.

Pain rolled through him in dull waves, muted by his attributes but still sharper than the ever-present sting of Corruption. The beam seared flesh and muscle until it bored clean through muscle and bone.

Jose went pale, staring at the smoking hole.

"Take my hand," Mark said evenly, offering his right arm.

[Clustered Regen] on Mark was already working, but with only a single Prana point, it couldn't close the wound. When Jose grasped his hand, Mark cast [Prana Pulse] and watched. The packet of energy he'd instilled in Jose shifted, linking to Mark's Regenerate. With nothing to heal in Jose, it flowed into Mark instead.

"Interesting…'" Mark muttered as the flesh knitted back together.

Potential sparked in his mind. With [Clustered Regen], he could tag allies in advance, letting them serve as relays for his healing. Anyone he marked could deliver immediate first aid with just a touch. The drawbacks were clear—it had to be set up beforehand, and required physical contact—but the utility was undeniable.

He could even adjust the intensity so the spell wouldn't consume all the energy at once, keeping it running at a low level until more energy was added. That way, he could maintain it on someone at minimal output, and when they were injured, the spell would automatically ramp up in response.

Jose sat frozen, staring at the spot where the wound had been just moments prior. As though blinking himself free, he looked at Mark. "Did I do that?"

Mark glanced at him and nodded. "To an extent, yeah. What, did you feel something?" he asked curiously.

"Well, just felt like warmth leaving my body."

Mark smiled. "Really? Can you tell how much is left?" He cocked his head, searching for the spell in Jose.

"Hmm… maybe two-thirds left?" Jose said hesitantly.

Mark hummed in confirmation when he found there was indeed thirty-five Prana remaining. He was about to thank Jose when the man spoke again.

"Are your tests always this... extreme?"

Mark rubbed his chin where a faint stubble was beginning to form. "Well, no, but there had to be a wound for me to heal, and I wasn't going to ask you to get hurt."

Jose frowned. "You realize that's a strange way of thinking, right? Why not ask someone who was already hurt to test the spell?"

Mark blinked slowly. Why hadn't he thought of that? There probably wasn't anyone in a life-threatening situation, but surely someone could have used a bit of extra healing, even if it was just removing blisters from walking.

Mark knew why, though; this was faster. Finding someone would have been as easy as sending out a pulse, but he had chosen the most direct route. In the short run, it didn't make a big difference, but in the grand scheme, it was a little alarming. He hadn't even hesitated to mutilate himself for a test.

Mark pursed his lips. "Alright, my bad. I'm sorry if I caused you any discomfort. It won't happen again," he said, meaning every word.

Jose hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, not speaking for the longest time. "You know… for a while there was a nickname people used for anyone like you — the ones at the higher tiers. The kind who don't stop to think twice before doing something crazy, because you know you'll survive it." His voice gained strength as he went on. "They called you all 'the reckless ones'."

Mark tilted his head slightly, still grappling with what Jose was saying.

"I used to wonder how anyone could thrive in our new world," Jose continued. "After seeing you three in action, I can confidently say I understand it now. That title… it fits, but not quite. If it did, I wouldn't trust you guys as much as I do."

Mark wanted to argue, he'd never thought of his actions a reckless, per se. Just as a means to an end. It wasn't like the fall had thrown him the easiest start, but then, it hadn't been easy for anyone.

"...I'm grateful to hear that, because I promise we'll do everything in our power to get everyone out alive"

Jose nodded. "I know you will. For now, I have to get back. Good luck with your tests."

Mark watched Jose go before turning back to his system prompts.

His two remaining spells were [Cleansing surge] and [Telepathic link]. In the end, he decided to improve [Cleansing surge], which again seemed to lower the cost of the spell greatly.

He was still weighing what to do with [Telepathic Link] when a massive wave of Mana slammed outward, followed by Aura surging in a turbulent cyclone.

The hair on his arms stood on end. He hadn't been paying attention, and he'd lost track of time—but instinct took over. The lattice of energy he'd been holding over the camp flared as he forced more Prana into it, thickening it, then snapped his ward into place just in time.

The wave struck. The dome shuddered like glass under a hammer blow, and Mark's knees nearly buckled. He anchored his will and reinforced the construct, layering threads of Mana tighter and tighter until the whole ward vibrated with strain. The air inside their enclosure rippled violently, throwing dust and chips of stone into chaotic spirals, while shouts and startled cries rang out around him.

Through the storm, he felt it—Sam and Jon. Their energies were surging like colliding tides, spilling through the area unchecked. He reached for them with a thread of will, but their minds were sealed off, locked in the stillness of [Meditation].

He'd wanted to be there when they consolidated their core, but he'd lost track of time.

Understanding the pressure they were under, Mark tried to keep the signs of their change hidden, but it was more than he could manage at once.

Sam was pulling in Mana at rates he'd only seen in the first rite, and Jon was outputting enough Aura to fill the entire area.

What Mark was worried about was the sheer amount of disturbance this was causing. Mark's own core had been plenty dramatic, but it had not occurred to him that he'd be unable to hide theirs. Even now, potent energies were battering Mark's control.

'Jon!' Mark growled through the connection.

His Aura was actively trying to expand, and Mark could only increase the size of his construct to accommodate it.

Sam, on the other hand, had become a vortex, dragging Mana into herself with the hunger of a black hole. The dome groaned as foreign streams of energy slammed against it, carrying miasma like silt in a flood.

The problem was that Sam's core was reaching beyond the confines of Mark's spell and pulling in Mana from all directions, dragging with it all the miasma tangled to it. Mark could block the twisted currents, but they were collecting around the dome like silt in a river bend.

He was just at his limit—his construct straining, his will stretched thin—when several more Auras suddenly flared to life around him. None matched Jonathan's overwhelming projection, but together they surrounded it, boxing it in and easing the pressure on Mark.

Through the haze, Mark caught sight of Gibby waving his arms and shouting orders, his voice sharp and commanding over the chaos. Nearby users responded at once, flooding the dome with controlled bursts of Mana. He could see them deliberately casting their power upward, outward—anywhere Gibby pointed. Inevitably, Sam's core dragged it all inward, but that stemmed the pull beyond the safety of Mark's ward.

For a while, they were suspended as they tried to hold things together, but all at once, the effects of the growing cores stabilized, as did the chaos, and Mark could finally breathe. What became apparent was the two figures in the distance practically glowing like stars in his vision.

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