The piercing clang of a copper bell shattered the silence of dawn.
A cloying, sickly-sweet stench of sulfur began to drift through the air—the residual scent of low-level fire magic in use. Lu Cen sat atop a broken beam of the outpost, one leg dangling in the air, his toe pointed directly at the massive Mana-Suppressing Stone.
On the horizon, a large, dark-red shadow drifted slowly toward them. It was a fat man riding an opulent magic carpet, his jiggling layers of fat rippling with every dip of the enchanted fabric. He was the nominal ruler of this wasteland, a Second-Tier fire mage: Viscount Buck. Behind him followed a guard of ten infantry mages, dressed in light robes and clutching short staves.
"Lu Cen! You cast-off of the Ducal House!" Buck shrieked from his carpet, his voice sounding like a strangled drake. "Setting up an 'unauthorized militant institution' on Imperial soil is a direct violation of the Magical Education Act."
"Hand over fifty units of 'Aether Tax' immediately, and then crawl out of my territory!"
Lu Cen didn't even lift an eyelid. He was busy trimming his nails with a dull pocketknife.
"Aether Tax?" Lu Cen let out a soft chuckle. "I don't have anything as ethereal as that here."
"Then hand over that Saintess, or that runaway slave!" Buck barked, his eyes greedily fixed on Sylvie inside the outpost.
Sylvie stood behind Lu Cen, her fingers instinctively clutching the mud-stained hem of her skirt.
"It seems you didn't hear me clearly." Lu Cen finally looked up. The silver fire in his pupils was exceptionally piercing in the morning light.
He leapt down. When his heavy heels struck the frozen earth, they carved two shallow craters into the hard ground. "The first rule of the Extreme Limit Academy: In this place, even gods run five kilometers before they're allowed to speak."
Viscount Buck froze for a moment, then erupted into a fit of arrogant laughter. "Run? You're telling an exalted mage to use his feet?"
He swung his staff violently, a crimson fireball half a meter in diameter instantly condensing at the tip. "Since you're looking for death, I'll burn your academy to ash!"
The fireball roared forward, the searing heat making the air hiss. Lu Cen didn't budge. He simply extended his right hand, fingers splayed. To Sylvie's horrified gaze, Lu Cen didn't manifest a shield. He merely delivered a casual, open-palmed strike toward the oncoming inferno.
WHOOSH!
It wasn't magic. It was a physical shockwave driven by high-frequency muscle vibrations. The air pressure acted like an invisible wall, forcibly extinguishing the fireball mid-air. The fire elements instantly collapsed, dissipating into a wisp of black smoke.
"The heat is too low. It's barely enough to keep warm." Lu Cen brushed a stray cinder from his chest, his tone flat.
[System Notification: Low-level fire energy fluctuation detected. Physical neutralization successful.]
[Stamina Reserves +0.5%. Acquired Skill Prototype: Physical Dimension Suppression.]
Buck's face turned from red to a ghostly white. He screamed as he recoiled, "Fire! Shoot him down with Mana-Crystal arrows!"
The guards raised their staves, and a dozen magical arrows shimmering with a cold, blue light whistled through the air. These projectiles were locked onto Lu Cen's vital points, enchanted with an effect designed to tear through physical defenses.
"Ah Er, time for your lesson," Lu Cen commanded without looking back.
The slave boy, who had been huddled in the corner, suddenly bolted upright. The submissiveness in his eyes had vanished. At Lu Cen's signal, he executed a violent roll toward the flank. It was a textbook tactical roll, executed so fast it left a blurred afterimage.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The boy wasn't dodging. Using the momentum from his roll, he crashed into the guard unit like a rolling boulder. The mages didn't even have time to react. In this magic-centric world, no one expected a suicidal physical charge. The "glass cannon" physiques of the mages were as fragile as porcelain against the boy's iron-hard shoulders, tempered by grueling weight training.
A chorus of snapping bones echoed as two guards were sent flying, their robes dragging long trails of blood across the mud. The magic arrow volley instantly died out as the casters' concentration was shattered by sheer physical agony.
"This... this is impossible!" Viscount Buck wobbled precariously on his carpet.
"Nothing is impossible." Lu Cen appeared like a ghost at the edge of the carpet, his hand clamping around Buck's ankle. "You're out of shape, Viscount."
Lu Cen yanked downward with a violent burst of strength.
CRACK!
Under the physical interference of Lu Cen's silver-etched fingerprints, the magic carpet's circuits shorted out instantly. Buck fell like a massive sack of lard, slamming heavily into a mud puddle and splashing slush all over Sylvie's face.
"Run fifty laps around the outpost," Lu Cen said, stepping onto Buck's chest, his voice freezing. "If you don't finish, I'll turn your fat into dumbbell plates."
Buck begged for mercy, his hands fumbling through his robes for documents and a coin bag to bribe Lu Cen. In the struggle, a yellowed, mud-stained list slipped out from the papers.
Lu Cen leaned down to retrieve it, and Sylvie leaned in as well. As they read the contents, the air seemed to turn to ice.
On the first line, Sylvie's name was marked with a bright red 'X'. The "Reason" column read: [Storage Pile 07 Catalysis Successful. Saintess converted to Spare Capacitor.]
At the very bottom of the list, a symbol Lu Cen had never seen followed his own name. That symbol was identical in shape to the metallic patterns beneath his left index finger.
Buck's face turned deathly pale. He lunged desperately to reclaim the list. "That's the Archmage's secret... you'll die if you see it!"
Lu Cen ignored him, his eyes fixed on the date on the list. That date was the exact day his mother had died.
[System Alert: Core code resonating. Synchronization forced to 10%!]
[Hidden Clue Unlocked: Your mother did not 'spontaneously combust.' She was merely... 'Physically Formatted' by a specific command.]
Lu Cen's fist clenched, instantly grinding the list into powder. He looked toward the Capital, the silver fire in his eyes erupting in full for the first time.