The Grand Magic Zone breathed.
Not calmly.
Not rhythmically.
It breathed like a living thing that did not acknowledge humanity as anything more than an irritation.
Mana surged through the land in violent currents—twisting, colliding, compressing, exploding outward again without warning. The sky above warped faintly, colors bleeding into one another where density became too great. Stone rose from the ground only to shatter midair, pulverized by invisible forces.
To an ordinary mage, stepping into this place without preparation meant death.
To Lencar—
It meant refinement.
He stood motionless at the center of a shattered plateau, eyes closed, boots planted firmly against the trembling ground. The wind screamed past him, heavy with mana so dense it felt like breathing through liquid.
His heartbeat slowed.
His breathing deepened.
"Mana Skin," he said quietly.
At once, his internal mana responded.
It flowed outward from his core in a controlled, practiced motion, spreading across his muscles, bones, organs—wrapping his entire body in a thin, tightly bound layer of reinforcement. It clung to him like a second skin, invisible but unmistakably present.
The instant it formed—
The environment reacted.
Natural mana slammed into him from every direction.
The pressure was immediate and overwhelming. It felt like standing beneath a waterfall made of molten force. His Mana Skin vibrated violently, rippling as wave after wave struck it.
Lencar's brow furrowed.
"So this is what Magic Knights feel subconsciously," he thought. "And this is what kills civilians instantly."
His knees bent slightly under the strain.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward from where his boots met the stone.
Mana Skin held.
Barely.
He took a step forward.
The moment his weight shifted, the natural mana surged again—this time twisting sideways, trying to tear his balance apart. His Mana Skin flared instinctively, thickening to compensate.
Pain bloomed across his legs.
Not from impact—but from overload.
"Tch—too reactive."
He halted.
If he continued like this, his mana would burn out long before his body failed.
"Mana Skin isn't brute force," he realized. "It's regulation."
He closed his eyes again.
Instead of increasing output, he compressed his mana—smoothing its flow, equalizing pressure across his entire body. He reduced fluctuation, stabilized density, refined control down to the smallest increments.
Mana Skin reformed.
Thinner.
Sharper.
The next surge of natural mana struck.
And slid off.
Lencar's eyes snapped open.
"…That's it."
The pressure was still there—but no longer crushing. The Mana Skin absorbed, redirected, dispersed it smoothly instead of resisting it head-on.
He exhaled slowly.
"Mana Skin is a boundary," he thought. "Not a wall."
He moved.
Not cautiously.
Intentionally.
Lencar broke into a run, leaping across unstable ground as floating stone fragments shifted unpredictably beneath his feet. He adjusted his Mana Skin constantly—reinforcing joints mid-movement, softening impact before landing, stabilizing his core when gravity twisted sideways without warning.
Each adjustment cost mana.
Each mistake cost blood.
A sudden mana vortex formed to his left, dragging debris toward it. Lencar reacted a fraction too late—his Mana Skin thinned at his shoulder, and burning pressure seared across his flesh.
He hissed sharply, skidding backward.
"…Again."
He pushed forward.
Hour after hour passed.
He deliberately stepped into hostile mana streams. Let lightning-dense currents rake across his skin. Allowed pressure fields to slam into his ribs.
Every lapse punished him instantly.
Every success refined him further.
Sweat soaked his clothes. His muscles trembled from sustained reinforcement. His mind burned with constant calculations—output, density, feedback, recovery.
More than once, his vision dimmed.
More than once, he nearly collapsed.
But gradually—
His Mana Skin stopped flickering.
It flowed naturally, responding without conscious command.
His body felt lighter.
Stronger.
As if mana and flesh had finally learned how to coexist.
"…Foundation complete," he murmured.
But his gaze lifted.
Toward the raging mana beyond his body.
"This alone won't let me dominate the battlefield."
Lencar loosened his Mana Skin.
Instantly, the world pressed in.
The pressure returned—raw, aggressive.
But this time, he didn't resist.
He listened.
Mana was everywhere.
Not evil.
Not malicious.
Just immense.
"…Mana Zone," he whispered.
He extended his awareness outward.
Tentatively.
The moment his mana brushed against the natural mana—
Rejection.
The environment lashed out violently, as if offended by his presence. His head rang. Blood trickled from his nose. His vision warped.
He dropped to one knee, gasping.
"…So this is the difference."
Mana Zone wasn't reinforcement.
It wasn't protection.
It was authority.
A mage asserting dominance over space itself.
Lencar wiped the blood away slowly.
"Forcing it won't work."
He stood again.
This time, he did not push.
He synchronized.
He aligned his internal flow with the chaotic rhythm of the surrounding mana—matching its pulses, its turbulence, its unpredictable surges.
His mana spread.
Not aggressively.
But undeniably.
The air trembled.
Floating stone froze mid-fall.
For one fleeting instant—
The world responded.
Then it rebelled.
A shockwave detonated outward, hurling Lencar across the terrain. He slammed into rock hard enough to crack it, ribs screaming in protest. His Mana Skin flared desperately, preventing catastrophic damage.
He lay there, chest heaving.
"…Too much," he muttered. "Too fast."
Mana Zone demanded patience.
He adjusted again.
Reduced the range.
Five meters.
Three.
Two.
His mana spread once more—thin, precise, restrained.
This time—
The natural mana did not attack.
It trembled.
Lencar felt it.
Every shift in air pressure.
Every movement of debris.
Every disturbance of intent.
Something entered the edge of his awareness.
He moved without turning.
A massive boulder smashed into the ground where he had stood.
"…So this is it," he breathed. "Mana Zone."
Not vision.
Not sound.
Existence itself spoke to him.
"This is different from ki," he realized. "Ki senses intent and life force. Mana Zone senses everything."
Sweat streamed down his face as he expanded the zone slightly.
Four meters.
Five.
Mana resisted—but yielded.
For the first time, chaos flowed around him instead of through him.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
This was far more draining than Mana Skin.
But the potential—
He clenched his fist.
Mana responded instantly, forming behind an imaginary enemy.
"Omnidirectional dominance…"
A sharp grin crossed his face.
He was about to push further.
To risk collapse for a breakthrough.
When space rippled.
A familiar magical frequency brushed against his senses.
Lencar froze.
"…Rebecca?"
A communication rune ignited nearby—urgent, unstable.
His expression hardened.
"…Something's wrong."
He withdrew his Mana Zone instantly, stabilizing his Mana Skin before releasing it entirely. Exhaustion crashed over him like a delayed wave.
He straightened slowly.
"Training ends here."
Space folded.
And the Grand Magic Zone vanished.