Michael did not answer her question.
Instead, he lowered his hand and turned to look at her, his expression steady again.
"Do you have a way to detect sothing that can't be caught by normal perception?" he asked.
Rynne blinked.
For a mont, she looked genuinely confused.
"Are you asking if I can use high-level detection magic?"
Michael nodded.
"Yes, I can," Rynne said after a short pause. She glanced back at the pillars, then at the empty space between them. After a brief mont, she exhaled and nodded. "Alright. Give a few seconds."
She stepped away from the pillars and planted her feet firmly on the stone floor.
Rynne raised her hands.
Mana flowed without hesitation, smooth and controlled, as symbols began to take shape in the air around her. They were clean and precise, each line forming as naturally as a breath.
Michael watched closely.
For a brief mont, Michael found himself admiring the sight.
Aside from her strength, the rumors surrounding her talent in magic began to make sense. Calling her a genius was not an exaggeration. One circle ford.
Then another.
And another.
They appeared around them in a loose formation, hovering at different heights and angles. Each one was identical, down to the smallest rune and curve. Perfect copies, suspended in the air like fragnts of a larger chanism.
Michael frowned.
At first, he assud she was trying to beat quality with quantity.
But that explanation did not sit right. Depending on the situation, what was singular remained singular and did not accumulate in effect. In this case, ten identical spells would not produce ten tis the result.
And yet, Rynne continued.
Five circles beca eight.
Eight beca twelve.
They slowly enclosed the space around Michael and Rynne, forming a wide sphere of suspended runes.
Suddenly, Michael's eyes widened slightly.
The circles began to move.
Slowly at first, then with increasing synchronization, they rotated inward. Their edges brushed against one another, runes aligning perfectly as if drawn by an invisible frawork. Where two circles overlapped, they rged.
Light intensified.
The individual formations lost their boundaries, collapsing into one another in a controlled convergence. What had once been many beca fewer, then fewer still, until only a single, massive magic circle remained.
It hovered above them, intricate beyond anything Michael had seen before.
Every rune from the original circles was still there, layered and
interwoven into a structure so dense it bordered on absurd. Lines folded into lines. Symbols nested within symbols. It was no longer just a detection spell. It was a construct.
The air between the pillars reacted.
Not violently.
But unmistakably.
Space warped inward, like a reflection folding into itself. The absence
Michael had sensed earlier began to ripple, its edges blurring as though sothing was being forced into definition against its will.
The magic circle pulsed once.
Then again.
Light spilled downward, not illuminating the space, but outlining it. For the first ti, the emptiness between the pillars had shape.
A boundary.
When Rynne saw the look of surprise on Michael's face, she smiled.
To be honest, she did have a high-level detection magic, but just as she was about to use it, she stopped.
She did not know when it had started, but after seeing what Michael had showcased since they reconnected, she had begun to feel a little inferior, and the urge to prove herself intensified.
That was when she rembered a recent application she had
discovered within her law.
Law of Perfection and Union.
This was the law Rynne wielded.
It was an uncommon law that did not rest on a single truth, but on two intertwined ones fused into a single authority. Among supernaturals, it was widely accepted that a being could only command one law. Still, the universe was vast, and rules that held for most were never absolute.
Rynne's first truth was the Law of Perfection, tied to the Greater Law of Creation. At its core was a simple conviction: everything that exists has an ideal state it is ant to reach.
A lump of clay was never ant to stay formless. Given ti and
intent, it could beco a vessel of beauty or purpose. Crude sand, scattered and worthless on its own, held within it the possibility of clear glass or intricate crystal. Even raw sound, chaotic and fleeting, could be shaped into music when arranged with intent.
To Rynne, perfection did not an sothing without blemish. It ant completion, the point at which sothing fully realized what it was capable of becoming.
Her law allowed her to perceive that completed form and briefly draw it into reality. At her current stage, she could not make such changes
permanent. What she manifested was an imitation, a temporary reflection of what an object or being would be at its peak, or at least what her own understanding defined as that peak.
There were limits, of course. Until she reached the realm where creation itself bowed to her will, she remained bound by the
fundantal laws of existence.
Then there was her second truth.
The Law of Union.
This law was derived from the Greater Law of Balance and was born
from Rynne's belief that nothing in the universe stood alone. Every force leaned against another. Every existence sought sothing to anchor it. Harmony was not accidental. It was necessary.
From Balance, she arrived at a simple realization:
"All things that exist can beco one, as long as their intent does not
conflict."
So long as purpose aligned, separation was not absolute.
This understanding beca the cornerstone of her Law of Union. It
granted her the ability to combine things that others found incompatible or outright impossible to rge.
She had already demonstrated this once before. During her battle
with Michele, she had fused her armor with her own body, forming a singular entity. For a brief span, she herself beca a half-step epic-grade treasure, wielding power that truly touched the epic
realm.
What she was doing now was no different. She was invoking that sa union once again.
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