CHAPTER 48: NEW SPELLS (2)

Lucen didn’t sleep.

Not for lack of trying.

He just lay there. Staring up. Listening to the city scrape by outside like it was too tired to collapse properly.

The cracked window rattled twice in the frame. Somewhere across the street, a spellcoil shorted out with a hiss-pop.

His system flickered again.

Still on.

Still waiting.

He exhaled once. Quiet. Then sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall off his shoulders.

The room was cold.

Colder than it should’ve been.

He liked it that way.

He reached out, grabbed the chalk again, and tapped it once against the side of the desk.

’Spell five,’ he thought. ’No stuns. No holds. No tap effects. Just damage. Clean and stupid.’

He closed his eyes.

Let the pulse of his mana settle into the shape of the idea.

He didn’t want finesse this time.

He wanted impact.

He wanted the kind of spell you didn’t argue with.

He opened the system manually and pulled up a blank slate.

The design node shimmered into place, slow, smooth, elegant. A blank sigil hung in midair like a question.

Lucen rolled his shoulder once and muttered, "Alright. Let’s be dumb."

He traced the first line.

Then the second.

Then the curve for compression locking.

He could feel the mana threads adjusting—this spell wanted pressure. Contained, surging force. A hammer made of air and heat.

He tweaked the draft’s structure to fit something heavier. More volatile.

Lava? No. Too obvious. Too slow.

He adjusted.

Compressed plasma edge.

Directional surge.

Tunneling momentum, not scatter.

He wrote.

Spell Type: Force/Flame Hybrid

Shape: Lineburst

Effect: Mid-range forward arc, heat-piercing effect

Secondary: Ignores non-magical armor, punches through minor shields

Mana Cost: Approx. 14

The system flared faintly.

Too high?

No.

Lucen narrowed his eyes.

He twisted the anchor shape again. Locked it.

Shaved 1.4 mana cost from the edge-binding.

’This would kill someone if they didn’t see it coming.’

He confirmed.

[Spell 5 Assigned: Piercing Flare]

Slot 5 Active

Base Type: Hybrid – Fire/Force

Mana Cost: 12

Range: 10 meters

Effect: Fires a concentrated beam of hyper-compressed flame through a narrow arc. Punches through up to 2 enemies. Minor internal burn, armor-pierce at close range.

Cast Type: Charge-and-Release (0.6 sec hold)

Stability: Moderate

Recoil: Slight (caster pushback if cast too rapidly)

Lucen sat still.

The spell hovered in the corner of the interface like it was trying to decide if it needed a warning label.

He smiled faintly.

’There it is. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’

The system dimmed slowly. Like it agreed.

The apartment around him was silent again.

Mana still curled off his hands in small, lazy threads. Harmless now.

But the spell lingered in his core like a blade pressed against his ribs.

He leaned forward, braced both elbows on his knees, and let out a soft breath that almost counted as satisfaction.

Five spells down.

Two to go.

And nobody in the city had the faintest clue what he was really packing.

He dragged his bag toward him, pulled out the half-eaten ration bar he never touched in the drift, and stared at it like it had wronged him personally.

Then muttered, "You’re getting me boots next time."

He didn’t say who he was talking to.

The bar? The spell? The system?

Didn’t matter.

He bit into it anyway.

Chewed once.

Then looked up again at the cracked ceiling.

And grinned.

Because Piercing Flare wasn’t a school spell.

It wasn’t built for warnings or rubber-room training sessions.

It was built to kill something.

Preferably something smug.

Preferably something rich.

And Lucen?

Lucen had plans.

—

He sat still for a long time.

The kind of still that wasn’t about rest.

Just calibration.

The room didn’t change. Still dark. Still cold. Still cracked around the edges like it wasn’t built to hold people long-term.

But something in the air shifted.

Not loud.

Just... steady. Like the system was watching him a little more closely now.

He opened the interface without moving his hands.

Didn’t even blink.

The window unfolded across his vision in soft threads of light.

[Spell Slots: 5 / 7]

[Design Tier: Sovereign – Core Aligned]

[Attribute Sync: 92%]

[Thread Authority: Unlocked]

[System Note: Boundary limits are not currently enforced.]

Lucen raised one eyebrow.

’Not enforced, huh?’

He pulled in a breath. Let it out slow.

Then whispered, "Alright. Let’s see how deep this goes."

He tapped to open a new design thread.

Blank canvas.

No suggestion. No filter. Just raw potential and the soft hum of something very old behind the system logic, like the core node was waiting for him to say something stupid.

He did.

"I want an area-clear."

A low pulse rolled through his head.

The screen flickered once.

Then started building.

Not like the others. Not incremental. Not layered.

This one sprawled.

A design arc spread across the desk surface—sigil lines lit faintly in the dark. Curved lines. Tri-layer burst signature. Radial flare. Rotational bind nodes built into the cast ring.

It was elegant.

And terrifying.

Lucen stared.

Didn’t smile.

Just adjusted one loop near the outer edge.

Added a kinetic implosion just outside the flame shell. Not to do more damage. Just to pull things in before the blast hit.

"Let’s make this one regret-proof."

The system acknowledged with a shimmer.

[Design Configuration – Spell 6]

Name: [Crater Bloom]

Type: Fire / Kinetic Hybrid

Effect: Creates a wide-area radial blast centered on caster’s position. First stage: gravity pulse pulls nearby entities inward. Second stage: high-intensity flame ring detonates outward in a 6-meter radius.

Mana Cost: 20

Cooldown: 90 seconds

Cast Time: 1.2s

Anchor Mode: Static (user cannot move during charge)

Warning: Potentially lethal to caster if misused

Stability: Low–Moderate

Control Sync Required: High

Lucen looked at the blinking Warning flag.

Then tapped Confirm.

[Spell Assigned: Crater Bloom]

Slot 6 Active

Current Spells:

-Ignition Burst

-Shockweave Bolt

-Frost Spire

-Soundlash

-Piercing Flare

-Crater Bloom

-Slots Remaining: 1

The system went quiet again.

No fanfare.

Just the faint, lingering pressure of a spell that wasn’t designed to play nice.

Lucen leaned back, if you could call slumping against a wall and a rolled blanket "leaning back."

He stretched one leg, stared up at the same old ceiling.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t smile.

But something in his chest felt... settled.

He hadn’t even cast it yet.

Didn’t need to.

He knew it would work.

It would work too well.

He rubbed his thumb over his knuckles slowly. Still faintly pulsing with residual thread-link heat.

’Alright,’ he thought. ’Six spells in. Still nobody knocking. Either I’m careful, or nobody’s listening.’

He glanced sideways at the old notebook jammed under the desk leg.

Notes. Diagrams. Spell scraps he couldn’t safely load into the system yet.

He reached for it. Then stopped.

Not yet.

Six was enough.

He didn’t need to win anything tonight.

He just needed to know.

That was what the SSS rank gave him.

Not firepower.

Not spells.

Freedom.

Lucen leaned his head back against the wall.

His eyes stayed open a little longer.

And somewhere deep in the system—

The Sovereign core pulsed once, slow and low, like it was just waking up.