The Astral Circle of Minareth was only accessible to those who had received a divine invitation.
A floating landmass, carved from an ancient meteorite, hovered above the clouds at the intersection of seven Ley lines. Every step echoed like a note of crystal. Silence reigned—total, absolute. Even the wind, in this place, seemed to bow.
Kerow Lin set foot there for the first time.
He instantly felt the weight of the place: mana flowed freely, dense, unbound. Even his dungeon-bound perception faltered here. He clenched his fists.This isn't my ground. But I've seen worse.
In front of him, Calder Astregris was waiting.
The man wore immaculate robes with silver hues, as if he came from another world. His skin looked sculpted from ivory, his eyes bore the light of a forgotten sky. No visible weapons. No threatening aura. Just an unsettling peace.
"Kerow Lin," he said calmly. "You're... interesting. Too many gods are talking about you."
Kerow didn't respond right away. He was analyzing. Calder gave off no hostility, and yet, every fiber of Lin's being screamed danger.
"So, you're here to test the rising star?" he asked at last.
Calder smiled.
"No. I'm here to see if your fire is real... or just a reflection in the water."
No need for formalities. The duel began with the next heartbeat.
Kerow opened with a summon.
A shadow clone—one of his earliest tools—rushed Calder, as he simultaneously set a trap on the ground: a rune of sensory dislocation. A tactic meant to confuse.
Calder... didn't move. The shadow passed through him.
An illusion.
The real Calder appeared behind Lin. He hadn't moved physically. He simply was—one step too close.
Lin stepped back, activating a runic barrier etched into his arms.
A clash. Light burst outward in arcs around them.
Kerow counterattacked. He launched a labyrinth fragment—a rare magic that isolated a portion of space, twisted perception, and trapped its target in a loop.
A technique that could have outmaneuvered a general.
Calder raised a hand.
The loop tore cleanly apart, like worn fabric.
"You're trying to play god with mortal bricks."His voice wasn't mocking or harsh. Just... factual.
Lin was already panting.
He attempted one final trick: the Echo of the Labyrinth—a semi-living summon from one of his past dungeons, a phantom hunter that mimicked its enemy's attacks.
But Calder stopped.
He knelt and drew a circle in the air.
And in that moment, Lin knew he had lost.
The Echo froze. Its mana drained. The trap unraveled.He didn't counter it. He rewrote the rules of the game.
A single word escaped Calder's lips:
"Eclipse."
And everything stopped.
Lin collapsed. Body broken, breath in shreds, blood on his lips.
Calder looked at him, then walked a few steps away. His voice drifted like a thought in the wind.
"You have the seeds. But you still don't know how to plant them. When you do... call me."
And then he was gone.
Alone on the Circle, Lin didn't move.
His body refused. His magic refused. Even his mind began to waver.
But one thing, and only one, did not bend.
His will.
Deep inside, something cracked.
A pain older, duller than any wound on his body.A memory. A forgotten voice. An unfinished riddle.
Then the light faded...And the past reclaimed its place.
"You were always like that, Lin. Never understanding limits.But maybe that's exactly... what made you dangerous."