The days bled into weeks. For one month, Noctus moved like a madman inside the secret chamber. Every breath he took, every swing of his blade, every push of his Aura was against the crushing weight of the natural flow pressing down on him.
At first, he stumbled like a child—his Aura buckled against the overwhelming tide, his body convulsed whenever he tried to expand it too quickly, and countless times he spat blood on the chamber floor.
But each time he fell, he forced himself back up.
Slowly, painfully, his Aura began to align with the chamber's rhythm. He started to sense the subtle fluctuations of natural Aura, like faint ripples in a vast ocean. He learned when to resist, when to bend, and when to release. By the end of the first month, his breathing was steady, his movements no longer sluggish. His Aura had stabilized.
Only then did he approach the next step.
The chamber contained scrolls, skill imprints left behind by ancestors of the Ignisar line. Among them, many shone with brilliance: graceful sword dances, deceptive thrusts, elegant footwork styles.
But Noctus's eyes fell on one skill that most had dismissed as crude.
Tyrant's Rage.
It was brutally simple.
No delicate techniques, no hidden feints, no dazzling footwork. Only relentless swings—attack, parry, and defense, executed with savage efficiency. The essence of the technique lay in sudden Aura bursts, explosive surges that multiplied strength and speed for a heartbeat, long enough to overwhelm an enemy.
Where most saw inelegance, Noctus saw survival.
"I don't have time to polish finesse. Ten months isn't enough to become a master swordsman. But this… this, I can use."
And so he chose.
The first sessions nearly crippled him. Every failed Aura burst tore through his muscles, his sword nearly slipping from his trembling grip. More than once, the shockwaves rebounded into his body, leaving him gasping on the ground.
But Hunter's Judgement sharpened his perception. It gave him just enough awareness of his body's limits, just enough warning before he broke himself apart. Slowly, he adapted.
By the end of the second month, his blade no longer wavered. Each strike carried weight. By the third, he was no longer practicing Tyrant's Rage—he was embodying it.
And then, the System spoke.
[Main Quest Progression: Updated] Survive Until the Coming of Age Ceremony
Reward: Skill – Tier 1, Chosen by System
[New Sub-Quest Unlocked]Raise Time Core to Fractured Realm (Medium) before leaving the chamber.
Reward: Artifact – Eyes of ChronosRank: ???Enchantments:
Time's Supremacy – Enhances all time-related skills by 500%.
Timeline Seeker – Perceive different possible timelines.
Noctus stared at the glowing words. His body stilled, his blade slipping from his hand and clattering against the stone.
"… perception of timelines…" His lips trembled. "This is… this is basically omniscience."
The first enchantment was already overwhelming—multiplying his cursed element's abilities by fivefold. But the second… the ability to peer into what could be, to witness choices before they were made…
He laughed hollowly, almost hysterically. "Who even creates something like this? Who is this System? Where does it get artifacts like these? Even Sovereigns would kill to glimpse fragments of time, but this… this is beyond them all."
His laughter faded into silence. The weight of the requirement pressed down heavier than the chamber's Aura.
Raising his Time Core to Fractured Realm, Medium in six months.
It was almost impossible. Assimilation of Aura was slow, a gradual process of harmonizing with the world. Even in this chamber, with its abundant natural flow, seven months wouldn't be enough.
Unless…
His gaze shifted to the final System option he hadn't dared open until now.
[Shop].
He browsed, and lines of text flickered into existence. Strange items, treasures, and oddities he had never seen before.
Item: Nature's Embrace
Type: Long Coat Artifact
Enchantment: 10% resistance against Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth elemental attacks (up to Knight Realm).
Cost: Tier 3 Low-level Aura.
Item: Knife of Truth
Type: Consumable Artifact
Enchantment: When it pierces a target, they must speak only the truth for 1 hour.
Usage Limit: One-time use.
Cost: Tier 1 Mid-level Aura.
There were countless more. Some strange, some useful, some dangerous. But Noctus's eyes locked on one item.
Item: Time Barrier
Type: Consumable Artifact (Sand Hourglass)
Enchantment: Alters time flow inside the barrier.
Limit: Maximum x2 the world's time flow.
Duration: 1 month (world time).
Cost: Tier 2 Low-level Aura.
"…This is it."
The Time Barrier. Exactly what he needed. A way to slow or accelerate time itself. With this, he could gain double the time to refine his Time Core.
Without hesitation, he purchased it.
The hourglass materialized before him, shimmering faintly with temporal ripples.
But his Aura reserves plummeted instantly.
In his excitement, he had forgotten the most dangerous rule of the chamber—without a steady flow of personal Aura, the crushing natural currents would consume him.
Pain exploded through his chest. Blood spilled from his mouth. His body buckled under the invisible weight.
Just as his consciousness blurred, his Time Core flared. It pulsed violently, wrapping him in a shimmer of temporal energy, resisting the suffocating pressure just enough to keep him alive.
Then—darkness.
When Noctus opened his eyes again, an hour had passed. His body screamed in agony.
"…Damn it," he hissed. "Next time, I prepare first… or this chamber will kill me."
Outside the chamber.
In the grand hall of the Ignisar estate, Duke Ardyn sat in silence. His face, stern as ever, betrayed no emotion—yet his mind lingered on the son inside the chamber. The disgrace who had endured under his Aura.
"Drake Ignisar."
His eldest son entered. Seventeen years old. The pride of the house. Already at Low Knight Realm, a second-year at Sanctuary Academy. His presence was calm, sharp, like a blade perfectly sheathed.
Ardyn's gaze softened. "You will test him. Noctus must prove his qualification to bear the Ignisar name."
Drake's expression didn't waver. "I don't bully the weak, Father. He's irrelevant to me."
"He is not irrelevant," the duke said coldly. "He is your brother. And as heir, it is your duty."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Drake inclined his head, a reluctant bow. "As you command."
As he left, Ardyn remained still, his thoughts heavy.
That boy, Noctus.
During the trial, he had felt something—something strange, unnatural, as if time itself had brushed against his Aura. Noctus had survived where no one should have.
"…What are you hiding, child?"
The duke's gaze lingered on the chamber door, his eyes narrowing.