The training grounds reserved for Celestia Academy were located in a separate wing of the tournament complex—private, warded, and designed to contain explosive magical accidents.
Ethan stood across from Lucien in the central arena, both of them surrounded by barriers that Elena had erected to prevent damage from escaping.
"The technique I'm about to teach you isn't in any book," Ethan began. "It's not part of any known tradition. As far as I know, you're supposed to discover it yourself after years of meditation and combat experience."
"But you've seen me use it," Lucien said. "In your visions."
"I've seen what you become. One of the strongest beings to ever walk this world. But that future takes decades to reach through normal means."
"And you can shortcut that process?"
"I can show you the end result and help you work backward. The understanding will still be yours—I can't transfer knowledge directly. But knowing what's possible sometimes makes the impossible achievable."
Lucien nodded. "Show me."
Ethan closed his eyes, accessing his Knowledge Archive. The technique he was about to describe had been showcased in a climactic battle scene from the novel's final arc—a moment when Lucien faced the Demon King directly and unleashed power beyond anything previously demonstrated.
The technique was called Divine Radiance Overflow.
"Your divine power comes from the Goddess's blessing," Ethan said. "It's a gift, not a trained ability. That means there are no limits built into it—no cultivation stages, no progressive unlocks. The only thing limiting your power is your belief about what's possible."
"You're saying my limitations are psychological?"
"Partly. The human body has physical constraints—there's only so much mana it can safely channel. But divine power isn't mana. It's something else. Something that can bypass physical limitations if you know how."
Ethan opened his eyes.
"The technique works like this: instead of channeling divine power through your body, you let it exist separately. Create a shell of pure divinity around yourself that acts as a second body—stronger than flesh, capable of handling energies that would destroy mortal tissue."
"That sounds like it would require more power than I have."
"It requires different power. Not more—different. You're not increasing the quantity of your divine energy, you're changing its quality. Transitioning from 'divine power flowing through Lucien' to 'Lucien existing within divine power.'"
Lucien's brow furrowed as he processed the concept.
"Show me with mana," he said. "The general principle, at least."
Ethan nodded. He extended his hands, gathering mana between them.
Normally, mana existed within a mage—flowing through their core, controlled by their will. The mage was the container; the mana was the contained.
But there was another way.
Ethan didn't draw mana into himself. Instead, he pushed his consciousness outward, extending his sense of self to encompass the mana floating free in the air.
It was disorienting. For a moment, he felt like he was everywhere and nowhere—a mind without a body, existing in the spaces between particles.
Then his mana shaped itself around him. Not inside his body, but surrounding it—a shell of energy that moved when he moved, responded when he responded.
"The mana shell," Elena breathed from the sidelines. "Theoretical concept from pre-Imperial texts. No one's successfully demonstrated it in centuries."
"It's not exactly the same as what Lucien needs to do," Ethan said, releasing the technique and feeling his consciousness snap back to normal. "Mana and divine power operate on different principles. But the concept is similar—stop being the container, start being the contained."
Lucien's eyes were intense. "Can you explain the mental process? What shifted in your perception?"
"I stopped thinking of myself as a single point and started thinking of myself as a field. My body became one part of a larger system, not the center of it."
"A field." Lucien closed his eyes, clearly trying to replicate the sensation. "That's... abstract."
"Try thinking of it this way: your body is a glass filled with water. Normally, you control the water by controlling the glass. But what if you could become the water instead? Let the glass become just another container you happen to inhabit?"
"Becoming the divine power rather than wielding it."
"Exactly."
Lucien was silent for a long moment. Then his power began to stir.
The others felt it—a pressure building in the air, light gathering around the hero's form. Elena strengthened her barriers. Seraphina prepared defensive ice. Victoria's flames flickered in nervous response.
Lucien's eyes snapped open—and they were blazing white.
"I see it," he whispered. "The divine power isn't inside me. It's everywhere. I'm just the point where it becomes focused."
Light exploded from him—not attacking, just existing. A shell of pure radiance formed around his body, extending several meters in all directions.
Ethan watched, fascinated. In the novel, this technique had taken Lucien decades to develop. The hero before him had begun grasping it in minutes.
The protagonist's cheat powers, he thought with mixed admiration and jealousy. What takes normal people years takes him moments.
Then the light flickered—and Lucien collapsed.
"Lucien!" Aria rushed forward, healing magic already forming.
"I'm okay," Lucien gasped, waving her off. "Just... exhausted. The technique requires constant concentration. I can't maintain it for more than a few seconds."
"A few seconds is a start," Ethan said, helping him stand. "With practice, you'll be able to hold it longer."
"How long until it's combat-ready?"
"In the original... in my visions, you could maintain it for several minutes. But that took years of development."
"We don't have years."
"No. We have four days." Ethan's voice was grim. "Practice tonight, tomorrow, every moment you're not in the arena. By Day 5, you need to be able to hold it long enough to drive an Apostle back."
"And if I can't?"
"Then we improvise. Like we always do."
They trained until midnight.
Lucien practiced the Divine Radiance Overflow, each attempt lasting slightly longer than the last. By the session's end, he could maintain the technique for fifteen seconds—still not enough for sustained combat, but progress.
The heroines worked on their own abilities. Victoria refined her fire constructs, making them more adaptable. Seraphina tested new ice formations designed to trap rather than kill. Elena continued analyzing the coliseum's ward structure, identifying weaknesses that might be exploited during a crisis.
Luna disappeared into shadows periodically, monitoring her father's operatives and reporting their movements.
Aria divided her time between healing the inevitable training injuries and practicing her own combat magic—she was primarily a healer, but she had offensive capabilities that rarely got used.
And Ethan coordinated it all, his [Parallel Thinking] keeping track of multiple conversations, multiple training sessions, multiple threat assessments simultaneously.
By the time they retired for the night, everyone was exhausted—but everyone was stronger than they'd been that morning.
[SYSTEM SUMMARY - DAY 1]
Team Status:
Lucien: Divine Radiance Overflow partially developed Seraphina: Defensive ice formations improved Victoria: Fire constructs adaptability increased Elena: Coliseum ward analysis 60% complete Aria: Combat healing techniques refined Luna: Shadow Guild positions mapped Ethan: Coordination successful; mild mana fatigue
Threat Assessment:
Damien Vale: 47% corruption (unchanged) Eastern Alliance: Primary team identified Shadow Guild: 20 operatives confirmed Assassination forces: Positions unknown
Days Until First Crisis: 2
Ethan lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn't come. His mind was too active, cycling through scenarios and contingencies.
Is this what the protagonist feels like? he wondered. The weight of knowing that people's lives depend on your choices?
In his previous life, the heaviest decision he'd ever made was which convenience store shift to take. Now he was managing a team of heroes preparing to face threats that could destroy armies.
The absurdity of it struck him suddenly—a convenience store worker from modern Earth, playing general in a fantasy war. He should have been terrified. He should have been paralyzed by the responsibility.
Instead, he felt... focused. Clear. As if everything in his previous life had been practice for this moment.
Maybe that's what the system does, he thought. Not just giving me knowledge, but changing who I am. Making me into someone who can use that knowledge.
It was a disturbing thought. Was he still Han Seojun, the nobody who died to a truck? Or had that person been overwritten, replaced by Ethan Blackwood, the prophet who changed fate?
Does it matter? another part of him asked. Whoever I am now, I have the power to save people. Isn't that what matters?
He didn't have an answer.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and he slept.