The word locked the magic in place.

The shadow beneath Noel's boots tightened, no longer clinging to the sand but stretching outward—thin at first, then deeper, darker—until it reached across the water like a held breath finally released. It didn't tear open. It didn't snap.

It connected.

For a heartbeat, the world compressed around him. Not the sensation of falling, but of being slid between two surfaces that had always been closer than they looked. Pressure wrapped around his ribs, firm and guiding, like the current of a deep river pulling him sideways instead of down.

The sea vanished.

Not in a rush—just gone, left behind as a distant, patient darkness that no longer concerned him.

Then the pressure eased.

Noel emerged from another shadow, this one pooled beneath the crooked roots of a twisted tree. Bark like scar tissue towered above him, branches bent by wind and salt. He dropped to one knee on instinct, one hand bracing against damp soil.

Not pain. Just habit.

He inhaled once. Then again.

The world held.

"…Hah."

The sound escaped him before he could stop it—a short, quiet breath of disbelief more than laughter. Noel pushed himself upright, eyes scanning the unfamiliar ground as the last wisps of shadow peeled away from his coat.

Several kilometers.

He could feel the distance now, not as strain but as memory, like recalling a long road already walked.

'It held,' Noir said through the bond, excitement vibrating beneath her words. 'Clean. Stable. No drag at all.'

Noel flexed his fingers, half-expecting some delayed tremor. Nothing came. His mana settled easily, deep and responsive, like water returning to stillness after a stone had passed straight through without splashing.

"So this is what it's supposed to feel like," he murmured.

The thought barely finished forming before something shifted.

Leaves rustled—wrongly. Not wind. Not birds.

Noel's head snapped up as his senses flared outward. Heat signatures flickered between the trees. Low, dense mana signatures pressed against the edge of his awareness, crude and aggressive.

Multiple.

Too close.

Noel's shoulders squared as his right hand drifted toward Revenant Fang. The brief moment of satisfaction vanished, replaced by sharp focus.

"So much for easing into it," he muttered.

They came out of the undergrowth in a rush of scraping metal and dragging links.

Chainbound Sentinels.

Humanoid frames plated in dull steel, joints wrapped in looped chains that clinked and snapped with every step. Their heads were smooth, featureless masks split only by narrow slits that glowed with a low, feral light. The chains weren't restraints—they were anchors, feeding mana back into the core of each construct, binding them together into a moving knot of aggression.

They didn't hesitate.

Neither did Noel.

"Fire Arc."

A curved blade of heat tore through the front line. Steel parted like damp wood. Three Sentinels fell in clean halves before the rest even registered the attack.

[You have slain Chainbound Sentinel (Adept – Elite).

You have received 0.01% Core Progress.]

[You have slain Chainbound Sentinel (Adept – Elite).

You have received 0.01% Core Progress.]

[You have slain Chainbound Sentinel (Adept – Elite).

You have received 0.01% Core Progress.]

Noel didn't stop to read.

"Voltage Needle."

Lightning snapped forward in tight, surgical lines. It punched through chest plates, severed chain cores, and grounded itself through the wet earth beyond. Two more Sentinels locked up mid-charge and collapsed, smoking.

[You have slain Chainbound Sentinel (Adept – Elite).

You have received 0.01% Core Progress.]

[You have slain Chainbound Sentinel (Adept – Elite).

You have received 0.01% Core Progress.]

They tried to swarm him then—chains lashing out, hooks clattering against stone and bark. Noel felt the pull of their linked mana, crude but heavy, like a net thrown all at once.

"Chain Flash."

The first bolt struck a Sentinel square in the mask. The second and third jumped instantly, arcing through the chains that connected them. Electricity raced along the links, turning the formation into its own execution device. Five bodies hit the ground almost together, metal ringing as they fell.

Notifications stacked faster now. Too fast to count individually.

The forest stank of ozone and scorched iron.

Noel stepped forward instead of back.

"Ignition Surge."

Fire wrapped Revenant Fang, dense and obedient, shadow threading through the flames instead of fighting them. He moved through the remaining Sentinels like a line being drawn and erased at the same time. Each swing cut chains first, then frames—disabling them before they even understood they'd lost cohesion.

Steel bodies dropped. Chains went slack.

More notifications flickered at the edge of his vision—again, and again, and again.

By the time the last Chainbound Sentinel collapsed, the clearing was littered with ruined metal and smoking links. Noel stood in the center of it, chest rising steadily, blade still burning.

Silence followed.

Noir's presence brushed his thoughts, alert and a little awed. 'Dad… you're not pacing yourself at all.'

Noel glanced around, finally taking stock of the aftermath. Dozens of kills. Adept–Elite threats erased in moments. His mana hadn't dipped the way it should have.

"…Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I noticed."

This was his first fight as an Archmage.

And he'd nearly torn the place apart without meaning to.

The last few Chainbound Sentinels broke formation the moment they understood the imbalance.

Metal feet tore grooves into the soil as they turned, chains clattering in frantic discord. They weren't retreating with strategy—just instinct. Whatever directive animated them hadn't prepared them for this kind of opposition.

Noel watched them go for half a second.

Then he exhaled through his nose.

"So that's the threshold," he said quietly.

He moved.

"Stormpiercer."

Lightning snapped tight around his frame, not flaring outward but compressing until it screamed. The world narrowed into a single violent line as he vanished, reappearing in the space between two fleeing constructs. The impact landed before sound could catch up—metal imploding inward as the electric charge punched straight through their cores.

Both Sentinels folded, chains dropping slack as their frames hit the ground in pieces.

The remaining monsters didn't make it far.

Noel didn't chase them with anger. There was no rush of blood, no need to prove anything. He crossed distance the way a thought crossed his mind—too fast, too clean, power answering before he finished shaping intent.

One tried to raise its arm.

A flicker of frost locked it mid-motion.

Another lunged blindly.

Fire split the air.

A third never realized Noel had already passed it.

When it was over, the clearing went still.

Fifty bodies lay scattered among scorched earth and fractured stone—twisted metal forms tangled with broken chains, some half-melted, others frozen through the joints, others simply punched open and left empty. The trees at the edge of the clearing steamed faintly, bark blackened where lightning had kissed too close.

Noel stood at the center of it all. "Status."

A familiar chime surfaced at the edge of his awareness, followed by the final confirmation.

[Current Core Progress: 0.72% — Mana Core: Archmage]

He stared ahead for a long moment, then slowly unclenched his hand around Revenant Fang. The blade's fire dimmed. The lightning crawled back into his core. Shadow settled instead of snapping.

Only then did he notice it.

His fingers were trembling.

Not from exhaustion.

From restraint.

"…That's not great," Noel muttered under his breath.

Noir's presence nudged against him, firm but calm. 'You're not losing control,' she said. 'You just haven't learned where the edges are yet.'

Noel nodded once, eyes sweeping the ruined clearing.

"If I keep fighting like that," he said quietly, "I'm going to break something I actually need intact."

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