CHAPTER 69: PRIVATE TRAINING (1)

He crossed one arm loosely over his chest. Let his other hand rest near his side.

"You get that from the spell weight, or the part where none of them scratched you?"

Varik stepped down from the circle’s center. Boots steady, coat trailing slightly behind.

"I’ve seen what Tier Sevens throw when they’re at the edge of burnout," he said. "You’re still holding back."

Lucen raised an eyebrow. "That was all of them."

"The spells, sure," Varik said. "But not you."

The words landed quietly. Not dramatic. Just surgical.

Lucen didn’t respond.

Didn’t deny it either.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

The spells were everything in the archive. But the archive was the surface.

The real danger wasn’t the firebolt or the vector.

It was the way Lucen could already feel the next spell forming, no chalk, no cast, just instinct. A shape in the back of his mind. Ready to be drawn. The system wasn’t telling him to stop. It was waiting to be surprised.

Varik walked past him. "Come on. That was the pretest."

Lucen turned.

"What’s the actual test?"

Varik glanced back. Just a shadow of a grin this time.

"You’ll know it when we get there."

Lucen exhaled once.

Then followed.

No rush.

No fear.

Just the kind of walk you take when you’ve already planned how many walls you’ll break if someone decides to get cute.

—

They reached a nondescript steel door buried in grey walls somewhere deep in the back of that empty warehouse district. Varik swiped a card, then punched in a code. The door sighed open, revealing blinking blue-gray corridors and lights humming up high.

Lucen stepped in. Floor panels clicked underfoot. The air tasted of coolant and sterilized metal. Even without a line, the tension snapped around them like live wire.

Varik didn’t say much. Just pointed deeper in.

As they moved, Lucen took it in, wall-mounted status displays quietly marking "Sector C—Test Range," "Automa: HK-07 Level–S," "Blueprints—Vector Striker".

’So this is where they park the real junk,’ he thought.

They came upon the main chamber: huge, circular, exposed wiring overhead, and three automa stood in a triangle. Each looked like a cross between mech-warrior and mythic beast, sleek, jointed plating, energy cores glinting.

One was stocky. "HammerFist MKII," massive stomp boots, arm-mounted crushers. Another slender, blade-arm "VectorWraith," fast joints, spinning buzz-saw edge. The third hovered slightly: "StormWeaver," cables and coils crackling, glowy coils along its spine.

Two techs in white lab coats hovered behind Varik, clips already recording.

Lucen stayed back. Just watched.

A speaker crackled.

"Test initiation in three...two..."

He didn’t blink.

’Let’s see what happens when they don’t hold back cooldowns.’

"Begin," Varik said.

The automa blinked to life.

HammerFist strode forward, smashing ground. VectorWraith whirred around the edge. StormWeaver hummed thunder across the ceiling.

Lucen took a breath. Felt mana pulse at 23/112. Full regen active.

He flicked his thumb. System lit in his vision, tags ready. He didn’t speak a word.

First strike.

He dropped low.

Boots sliding on metal.

He tapped his wrist.

[Ignition Burst] fire lance into HammerFist’s thigh joints. Big explosion. Heard steel crack.

[Mana: 17/112]

HammerFist swung its arm. Lucen backrolled. Sparks danced off the crusher.

He tapped again.

[Shockweave Bolt] electric strike at chest. Armor lights flickered.

[Mana: 10/112]

VectorWraith charged. Lucen pivoted, snatching arc midair—

[Frost Spire], freezing its spinning blade mid-strike. Metal iced over.

[Mana: 3/112]

Lucen pumped his hand.

System ticked, [Mana regen: 0→2.1→4.2]

StormWeaver dove.

He punched a large glyph beside his foot.

[Crater Bloom] shock bloom under StormWeaver. It staggered mid-hover.

[Mana: 0/112]

He stood straight. Coat swaying. Chest heaving just enough. Mana flowing back.

VecorWraith dropped.

HammerFist staggered.

StormWeaver slowly retracted upwards.

Lucen sighed inwardly.

’Okay, batteries recharging... but they all still function.’

Varik cleared his throat.

"Second phase. Don’t hold back."

Lucen raised an eyebrow.

That was an invitation.

Varik registered his finger tap.

He didn’t say, "Good luck."

He said, "Show me what it feels like to be cobwebbed in class limits."

Lucen nodded once.

He flexed fingers. Closed his eyes.

Brain focused.

System whispered, [Layer Integrity stable].

He stepped forward.

And met the next wave.

—

The first one lunged with an overhead cleave. Triple-jointed arms. Blade limbs. Synthetic chassis that hissed on every pivot.

Lucen slid sideways. Not fast—measured. The sword slammed into the floor beside him, carving a shallow trench in the reinforced plating.

"Wide swings," Varik said behind the glass. Calm voice. "Your movement’s clean, but your spacing’s lazy. You gave it tempo."

Lucen didn’t look back. Just muttered, "I like to give them hope."

He flicked his wrist.

[Frost Spire]

[Mana: 105 / 112]

The spike erupted beneath the bot’s left foot. Solid connect. The metal ankle twisted sideways on impact, loud crunch. Momentum failed.

Lucen turned. Ignored the sparks.

A second unit rushed from the right, sleek, thinner, spider-limbed with glowing joints. He ducked under its leap and swept a line through the air.

[Soundlash]

[Mana: 97 / 112]

The air cracked. The machine staggered, equilibrium skewed. One limb scraped the wall and threw off its balance.

Varik spoke again, same flat tone. "That one’s reactionary. You used a shockwave on a bot built for adaptive momentum. Cost you extra mana."

Lucen muttered, "You’re really fun at parties."

He shifted weight. Reset stance.

The first bot tried to lunge again, limping, but still moving. Lucen flexed one finger.

[Shockweave Bolt]

[Mana: 90 / 112]

The lightning thread snapped across the room. Hit center-mass. Internal circuits shorted. It jerked back. Smoke rising.

Lucen didn’t pause.

Third bot this time, heavier. Six-limbed crawler with a mounted turret.

Lucen narrowed his eyes. ’Turret means timed casting. I’ll need one wide, one vertical.’

He etched fast.

[Crater Bloom]

[Mana: 82 / 112]

The explosion lifted the bot two feet off the ground before crashing back into a pit of its own plating.

Varik’s voice again. "You’re still opening with too much mana. You didn’t even test its weakness profile first."

Lucen grinned, small and dry. "You gave me toys. I’m playing with them."

The turret bot staggered upright, right arm blown off. Lucen exhaled once.

[Piercing Flare]

[Mana: 76 / 112]

The beam lanced through the center frame.

It didn’t fall.

Lucen blinked. ’Okay. It tanked that. Great. We love that.’