[Law of Space: 90%]
When Markus opened his eyes, he didn't just wake up—he reclaimed the room. The Law of Space reached 90% resonance, and the resulting backlash of Primordial energy didn't just leak; it detonated in a silent, invisible shockwave that swept across the Imperial estate.
Within the mansion, the air turned turbulent as the chains on a dozen stalled cores simply dissolved under the pressure of a higher reality.
The Swiss Guards in the inner perimeter experienced a mass-evolution event. It was a baptism of raw origin-force. The guards felt their internal shackles explode as Markus's aura forcibly synchronized their bodies with the atmospheric mana.
The process was violent and absolute; their existing mana circuits were torn down and re-woven into complex, high-tier patterns, while their cores were purged of years of stagnant buildup. In a single, agonizing heartbeat, their physiological limits were deleted.
They stood amidst the psychic debris of their former selves, possessing purified cores that thrummed with the terrifying frequency of a tier stronger.
The Annex was spotless, a testament to the invisible efficiency of the palace staff, but the dust motes in the air seemed to hang frozen as he stirred.
He looked down at his hands; they were pale and steady, though his robes hung loose on a frame that had forgotten to eat. He didn't care about the hunger.
The questions he had brought out of the Eastern Sanctum were still there, but for the first time in his life, he felt like he was finally fast enough to catch the answers.
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Name: Markus Blackwell
Age: 10
Class: Void Apprentice
Affinities: Space (L), Time (L)(Sealed), Fate (EX)
Health: 40,000/40,000
Mana: 70,000/70,000
Level: 50
Strength: 250
Agility: 250
Constitution: 250
Intelligence: 250
Hidden Attribute
Perception: 40
Available free attributes: 0
Laws: Space (90%)
Active Skills: (Damage Multiplier: 9x)
Spatial Slash
Void Severance
Spatial Bubble
Spatial Domain
Spatial Detonation
Sword Skills:
Vorpal Strike
Meteor Strike
Spatial Ascension
Dark Singularity
Legacy Skills: (Damage Multiplier: 9x)
[Legacy of Sagittarius]
Starlight Bow
Passive Skills:
Body refinement (Tier 6)
Void Perception
Dimensional Inventory (100 x 100 sqm)
Fate's Eye
Equipment:
Heavenly Scriptures of Space
Key to the Temple of Space
Valerian Academy Student Badge
Aurelian Royal Family Crest
Dimensional Storage Ring (Tier 3
Prayer Cushion
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The girls returned from the main estate to find the Annex in a state of complete disarray. It looked as though a localized hurricane had spent a month trying to claw its way out of the living room; the air was still thick with the scent of spatial friction.
"Brother! You're finally back!" Rosanne cried, throwing herself at him for a celebratory hug. The moment her skin touched his robes, however, she recoiled with a sharp gasp, her instincts as a Light-user screaming at the sheer density of the aura radiating from his skin. "Ugh, actually—get back! Go take a bath, you smell like... stagnant void and old dust. You stink!"
Markus let out a raspy, genuine laugh. He knew it was biologically impossible for him to carry an odor; he had been suspended in a pocket of absolute spatial isolation for over a hundred and sixty hours. But to Rosanne's sensitive nose, the smell of nothingness was apparently worse than sweat.
"Do me a favor and request a meal from the head chef," Markus said, his stomach finally beginning to growl as his metabolism reconnected with his physical frame. "I need high-density mana-fare. Lots of it. Tell them to skip the appetizers and send the main courses by the tray."
He offered a tired but sharp smirk to Rosanne before retreating toward the master bedroom. He needed more than just a bath; he needed to scrub the dense aura of space off his skin and replace it with the smell of a proper meal.
**
Markus lowered himself into the steaming water, the heat biting into his skin as he uncorked the vial Grandma Isolde had brewed specifically for him.
As the dark, viscous herbal solution hit the water, the liquid turned a deep, bruised purple. Almost instantly, his body began to reject a month's worth of metabolic stagnation.
A thick, black pus of cellular impurities began to seep from his pores, sizzling as it met the alchemical bath. It was a marrow-deep cleansing, a violent extraction of every biological flaw that dared to linger within his newly evolved frame.
'I hope they didn't spend the month just scrolling on their watches,' Markus thought, a thin smile touching his lips.
He was particularly interested in Rosalind's growth; if she had synchronized her training with the others, her foundation would be ripe for the next stage of his program.
He began mentally drafting a new regimen—one that would push her toward peak tier 1 faster than any tutor at the Academy would dare. He didn't just want her to be stronger; he needed her to be a viable asset before the next apocalypse hit humanity.
**
Rosalind arrived at the Annex just as the spatial tremors from Markus's awakening began to settle.
"I owe you an apology," Markus said, stepping into the room with a presence that seemed to warp the very light around him. "The meditation wasn't planned; I simply touched a thread of the Law and followed it until the world disappeared. I didn't realize thirty days had vanished." He looked at her with a heavy, focused gaze, genuinely regretful.
He knew that a month of his direct guidance would have done more for her foundation, and he felt the sting of that lost time.
"As you can see, we haven't been idle. Your teammates were gracious enough to continue my tutelage in the portals while you were... elsewhere." She raised her hand, and the air in the Annex didn't just chill—it seemed to vanish. A dense, swirling orb of Void mana condensed above her palm, its dark light swallowing the surrounding glow. "The girls taught me that the elements are merely the alphabet. I've started learning how to write the language of the end."
Under the girls' strict supervision, Rosalind had mastered the foundational curriculum required of every Academy student. It was the mandatory gauntlet of elemental manipulation—a course designed to ensure a student's core didn't fracture under the weight of their own intent.
For the Princess, however, these basics weren't just a requirement; they were the structural pillars she needed to stabilize the volatile Void energy now humming beneath her skin.
Markus watched the way Rosalind held her focus, the orb of Void mana steady despite the complexity of the task. He knew the Academy's mandatory course was designed to weed out the weak; the fact that she had breezed through it while simultaneously tapping into the Void was nothing short of miraculous.