CHAPTER 158: MIMIC THE STREAK.

(A/N Big thanks to everyone for the Power stones and Golden tickets, they mean a lot. As usual, please don’t hesitate to comment or drop a review. ENJOY)

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The silence between them lingered for a moment longer—light, stretched, familiar.

And then—

Another ripple.

A teleportation flicker pulsed near the entrance circle, and one of their classmates materialized with the dazed look of someone who’d sprinted across half the academy before jumping through a portal. Then another appeared. And another.

Soon the hall began filling with muffled bursts of light as more students blinked in.

Five minutes passed in that ebbing rhythm—teleportations, murmured greetings, tired sighs.

Then the air sharpened.

Folded.

Locked.

A single, heavy pulse spread across the room, sealing the space with practiced authority.

Professor Farin had arrived.

He just materialized at the front of the hall with the quiet decisiveness of someone who mastered spatial manipulation decades before any of them had been born. His tall frame straightened, black coat sweeping behind him as his eyes scanned the room.

With that one arrival, the rule went into effect.

No one else could enter.

Almost every instructor had the same policy for the final month: if you chose to attend, you were required to be on time. These last classes weren’t mandatory, but walking in late was forbidden. Farin’s spatial lock ensured it.

Orion took a subtle look around the hall.

Only six students had come today.

Most of the high performers—including Seris and her group—had already secured the proficiency requirements needed. They’d passed Nova Bloom’s threshold and saw no point in attending a class designed to help with something they’d already mastered.

The ones present now?

They were here for a reason.

They either struggled to push Nova Bloom past low proficiency... or they weren’t satisfied with the bare minimum and wanted to sharpen it even further.

Orion’s gaze drifted across the group—Daenys, Maera, Rhyden, Tarin, Orric, and Reina.

He activated ETF.

A quick glance at their proficiency confirmed it.

Every one of them had Nova Bloom listed at Low.

Including Daenys.

He wasn’t surprised. She was monstrously talented in strength and mana output, but spatial techniques had never come easily to her. Not because she lacked talent—but because her mana rhythm fought the precision that spatial manipulation demanded.

Her mana flowed like fire. Powerful. Expansive. Explosive.

Space required the opposite.

It needed cold precision. Smooth curves. Pinpoint compression. The kind of control that came naturally to someone whose mind was wired like a mathematical construct.

He couldn’t blame her, it was quite obvious why she wasn’t exactly in tune.

Daenys noticed him looking and clicked her tongue.

"Say anything and I’ll deck you," she muttered under her breath.

He raised both hands in peace.

Professor Farin clapped once.

"On your feet. We’re moving to the training floor."

His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an inherent command that pulled everyone upright instantly.

They followed him down the steps and onto the wide arena of reinforced stone—a place built to withstand the worst spatial distortions an entire class could produce.

Farin didn’t waste time. He walked through each student, observing their stance, mana flow, anchor point placement.

Then he began offering guidance—short, sharp, precise.

Orion watched silently from the side and stepped in to offer advice wherever he could although most of their problems were beyond what he cold say.

They were things that made sense to him in a way he couldn’t explain.

One by one, Farin corrected the five students, letting them repeat their attempts until their distortions stabilized enough for actual practice. When the instructor finally stepped back, signaling the end of his initial guidance, the hall loosened for a moment.

Only then did Orion approach.

He didn’t need to announce himself.

Farin’s eyes had already drifted toward him, the ghost of a knowing smile touching the instructor’s face—one that carried neither surprise nor confusion.

He had expected Orion.

Not because Orion was struggling with Nova Bloom.

On the contrary, Nova Bloom had long been perfected—years before any of his classmates even touched its upper threshold.

Orion’s presence here wasn’t tied to graduation requirements or self-improvement.

He had a different goal entirely.

A much harder one.

Farin stepped aside, giving him silent permission. His mind was wandering. The boy had come to him and declared his wish to create a new skill the first time. He didn’t discourage him outright, he’d heard about the genius their patriarch had produced but deep down he doubted it’s possibility but the boy had made it work.

Instructor Farin had a general idea of what Orion was attempting, it wasn’t new after all, Orion might have thought the skill a breakthrough but Farin knew otherwise, it wasn’t new but it was beyond what the boy should be capable of performing, it was beyond what even he was capable of performing but his guts told him the boy might pull it off, his only regret was his absence when he succeeded.

Orion moved onto the training floor, the air shifting subtly around him. His mana flowed smoothly—controlled, measured, perfectly layered. The kind of flow one only achieved through relentless practice and obsessive pursuit of mastery.

But even perfect control had limits.

He had discovered them recently.

And it irritated him more than he liked to admit.

The reason he was in this class wasn’t Nova Bloom...

It was the skill he was attempting to create.

A new skill.

His own skill.

Not the first time he had done this.

Four years ago, when the system had issued its first major challenge, he had been forced to walk a path no one his age should have even conceptualized.

—DETECTED HOST’S RESOLVE

—QUEST GENERATED

Deep Sense:

Develop a means of breaking through the bloodline Spatial Veil without use of any system-given skill.

DURATION: 3 years

REWARD: Random

He had accepted.

He had bled for it.

He had pushed his perception to its limit and beyond.

And somehow—through stubbornness, instinct, and genius—he had created a technique that shouldn’t have been possible, and it had taken three years.

Now, four years later...

He wanted to do it again.

But this time, the challenge was far greater.

The idea had come to him slowly, piece by piece—born from experiments, whispered by physics from his previous world, sparked by that childish fascination he once had watching a red-suited speedster pass through walls as if they weren’t even real.

The principles made sense.

Space wasn’t immovable.

Matter wasn’t absolute.

Everything was vibration, density, layered structure.

If he could manipulate space finely enough—

If he could adjust his mana frequency precisely—

If he could match the lattice of matter perfectly—

He could slip through it.

No breaking.

No destroying.

No teleporting.

Just passing.

Phasing.

But he wasn’t close.

Every attempt so far had ended in a failure so complete it bordered on humiliating—spatial collapse, frequency mismatch, destabilized mana threads, backlash that sent his arm numb for several minutes.

It was the most difficult project he had ever attempted.

And that was exactly why he wanted it.

He wanted to do what no Chronos had ever done.

He wanted to walk through matter.

He wanted to phase—

Just like Barry Allen.