The chamber was calm, almost oppressively serene. The faint shimmer of runes carved into the walls bathed the room in a soft azure glow, and the stillness in the air was so thick it felt as though even dust motes were afraid to drift.

Luca sat at the table opposite the Tower Master. His posture was straight but tense, one hand resting lightly against the polished wood, the other unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. Taking in a long, steadying breath, he finally broke the silence.

"Well…" His voice was quiet at first, testing, almost hesitant. "It's the ability I awakened when I was in the past—seven thousand years ago. With… her majesty."

He trailed off, watching her carefully.

The Tower Master's expression did not falter. Her face remained composed, calm as the surface of a still pond. No widening of her eyes, no sharp intake of breath—nothing. She simply regarded him, her chin propped lightly on one hand.

When she finally spoke, her tone was even, reassuring, almost as if she had been waiting for him to say it.

"Her majesty already told me everything."

Luca blinked, caught off guard. A furrow creased his brow as he tilted his head slightly. "…I should have expected that," he muttered, exhaling through his nose. After a short pause, he asked, "Then you must already know about how I used Moonslayer?"

This time, a flicker betrayed her otherwise unshakable composure—a quick flash of surprise in her eyes before it smoothed away.

"That," she admitted, leaning back with folded arms, "was what I was most surprised by. Even her majesty was surprised by it. There is no possible way to use that technique at the Core Compression stage. Her majesty herself studied it countless times, searched every possible route—and yet she found nothing."

Luca tilted his head, his expression softening into mild puzzlement. "Then… why didn't she ask me?"

The Tower Master's lips curved, a light laugh escaping her. "Her pride would not have allowed it. You should know that much about her by now." She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. "So then—how did you perform it?"

Luca drew in another breath, his gaze lowering for a moment before he answered. "It's connected to my new ability. You know Moonslayer requires a vast vessel to hold that much aura. Normally, it could only be performed in the Spatial Expansion stage. So… I simply inserted my spatial aura into my meridians, expanding them from the inside so they could bear the load."

The words hung heavy in the air. For a long moment, she simply stared at him. Then her composure cracked. Her eyes widened sharply, and her chair creaked as she straightened.

"Do you even realize how dangerous that was?!" Her voice carried a rare edge, laced with genuine alarm. "Expanding your meridians from within—it could have torn them apart instantly. How could you be so reckless?"

Luca tilted his head, blinking at her as though she had said something strange. "…Huh? Didn't her majesty tell you? We were in a life-and-death situation at the time."

Her eyes widened even more at that, her pupils narrowing. She sat back slowly, pressing two fingers against her temple as though trying to piece together a puzzle she hadn't been meant to see. "…It looks like we need to have a talk, huh."

A bead of sweat slid down Luca's temple. His heart gave a quick skip. Did I just say something I shouldn't have?

But when her gaze returned to him, it had softened. The sharpness bled away, replaced by a quiet heaviness. Her eyes glimmered with something gentler, almost maternal, as she reached across the table. With a faint sigh, her hand settled atop his head.

"Why must you go through all of this at such a young age?" she murmured, brushing her palm gently over his hair. The warmth in her touch carried a weight he hadn't expected—a worry that felt too real, too human.

Luca froze for a moment, then lowered his gaze. He could feel it: her worry for him. Her quiet sorrow. But… they didn't have time for sentiment.

He straightened slightly, forcing his voice steady. "Ah, Master—then about that ability?"

Her hand paused mid-motion, and for the first time, a faint flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks. She pulled her hand back with a light cough, but her eyes were already beginning to gleam, brighter than before.

"…Yes," she said, her voice regaining firmness, though her lips curved with restrained excitement. "That ability of yours… the possibilities it holds are beyond even what I had imagined."

And as she leaned back, her mind already spinning through countless ideas, countless futures, Luca could only brace himself for what came next.

"Expansion… within the meridians…" she whispered, and then she straightened sharply. "No—don't you see? This could extend far beyond the body."

She leaned forward, voice quickening, hands moving as though sketching invisible diagrams in the air. "If you can expand meridians internally, then with the right adaptation, you might expand channels of mana outside the body as well. What does that mean? Storage rings with tenfold the space. Barriers reinforced to withstand siege magic. Enchantments stacked without collapsing."

Her breath quickened as excitement spilled out unchecked. "Normally, artifacts collapse once too much mana is funneled into them. But you—no, your ability—could stabilize those flows. A mage could summon constructs larger than their circle allows. A battlefield healer could channel to an entire platoon at once. Even spatial gates… Luca, you could expand the very tunnel—make it stable enough for entire armies to march through without collapse."

Luca blinked, lips parting. I didn't even need to say it aloud… she's already jumping ten steps ahead.

She clasped her hands together, pacing a few short steps, her robes fluttering. "And if you can expand the inner capacity of magical vessels—then why stop at vessels? What about spell matrices? If a mage etched a fire array on a scroll, your power could enlarge its mana lattice and multiply its yield. A single scroll could become the equivalent of a high-circle spell. Gods, even forbidden artifacts—things that shatter on use—could perhaps be made reusable!"

Her eyes gleamed with a mix of feverish joy and terror at her own conclusions.

Luca swallowed, stunned. Even I didn't think of that. There's a reason she's the Tower Master after all.

She turned back toward him, her gaze burning so intensely it was as though she was looking at a priceless treasure rather than her own disciple.

"Calm down, Master," Luca finally interjected, raising a hand in a placating gesture. "What you said are indeed countless possibilities, but my ability is limited for now."

Her excitement faltered, and once again that familiar shade of embarrassment crossed her face. She lowered her gaze, the tips of her ears flushing pink. "I… I'm sorry again. This is the third time today I've shown you such an embarrassing side."

Luca's lips curved into a soft smile. "You can be whatever you want in front of me, Master."

Her eyes lifted at that, gentleness overtaking the storm of fervor from earlier. For a fleeting moment, her usual composure melted into something warmer, more human, as though his words had touched a part of her she rarely revealed.

Breaking the silence, Luca leaned forward slightly. "For starters… why don't we begin with the storage artifact?"

Her eyes immediately lit up again, the scholarly fire rekindling. "Yes. We've been researching the concept for a long time, just not with the same principle as your ability" she admitted quickly, her voice trembling with both pride and excitement. "We even produced a crude prototype—barely functional, highly unstable. But if your ability can truly expand and stabilize the space inside…" Her breath hitched, her expression shining with anticipation. "It may change everything."

Luca chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "Then why don't we try it on something?"