Zane stood in front of Dren, calm and unmoving, as if the chaos around them didn’t exist.
He turned his head slightly.
A soft green light blood from his palm. A gentle magic circle ford, nature mana flowing with quiet certainty. The wound in Grom’s chest closed in an instant, flesh knitting back together as if it had never been torn apart. Grom gasped sharply, eyes widening as life surged back into him.
The sa green glow started to move toward Mira—
But before it could reach her, a blinding white beam of mana slamd straight into Zane.
BOOM.
The impact shook the entire lecture hall. The floor cracked. Dust and debris exploded outward, swallowing everything in a thick cloud.
Dren smirked, floating calmly with the Heart beside him.
"You’re down that easily?" he called out mockingly. "I know you’re stronger than that, human."
The dust slowly settled.
Zane stood exactly where he had been.
Unhard.
Not a scratch. Not even his coat was torn.
He lowered his hand calmly and said, "Mira can wait. Let’s deal with you first."
Dren’s smile twitched. "Really? Can you, human?"
He vanished.
Space folded, and Dren reappeared several ters away, the Heart of the Deep Forge hovering loyally at his side.
But—
Zane was already there.
Sa position. Sa posture. Sa expression.
A bead of sweat slid down Dren’s temple.
"...I suspected you knew space magic," Dren said slowly. "So when I teleported, why didn’t you stop ? With your mastery, you could’ve—"
Zane flicked his finger.
The motion was casual.
It struck Dren’s forehead.
For a split second, there was silence—
Then Dren exploded into a mist of blood.
The Heart flared violently.
Mana surged.
The blood mist twisted, pulled back together, reforming bone, flesh, and skin until Dren stood there once more, gasping but alive.
Zane watched him without emotion.
"You don’t know any healing technique," he said calmly. "And you don’t know space magic either."
He glanced at the Heart.
"You’re just wasting an enormous amount of mana to brute-force healing and teleportation."
Dren staggered back as his body reford, blood mist snapping into flesh and bone under the pull of the Heart. His breath ca ragged for a mont before stabilizing, eyes burning with disbelief.
"Tch—!" He wiped blood from his mouth, laughing sharply. "So what if I am? Infinite mana makes technique irrelevant. With this—" he lifted the Heart of the Deep Forge slightly, its liquid-tal casing rippling, "—I can brute-force anything. Healing. Teleportation. Destruction."
Zane watched him quietly.
"Do you know the difference between power and mastery?" Zane asked.
Dren scoffed. "Spare your lectures."
He thrust the Heart forward again.
The air scread.
Mana from the heart surged.
Mana surged outward—not as a beam this ti, but as a collapsing sphere. Pressure folded inward from every direction, ant to crush Zane completely. The ground warped beneath it. Nearby, across the city, people felt the weight slam down on them. So dropped to their knees. Children coughed blood as the pressure rippled outward.
Zane didn’t move.
The mana sphere compressed... and then stopped.
It hung there, trembling, like a world caught mid-breath.
Zane stepped forward, walking through the pressure as if wading through shallow water. Each step made the mana distort and peel away from him, dissolving into nothing.
Dren’s eyes widened.
Even this... isn’t enough for him?
A chill ran through his spine as the realization settled in. His grip on the Heart tightened.
Just what is he...?
For a brief mont, hesitation flickered through his mind. Then his jaw clenched.
...Do I really have to use that way?
He looked straight at Zane, lips curling into a strained smile.
"You really are a monster," Dren said slowly. "I suppose using the Heart of the Deep Forge like this won’t be enough."
His eyes glead.
"You want a challenge, human?"
"I’ll give you one."
The pressure around him surged.
Mana condensed violently as the Heart of the Deep Forge began moving—slowly, deliberately—toward Dren’s chest. Its liquid-tal casing stretched and warped, responding to his will, pulsing as if alive.
Dren threw his head back and shouted,
"A perfect harmony between my organic body and the Heart of the Deep Forge will let use its full potential!"
The pressure intensified, crushing the air itself.
"I’ll reach your level—no," his voice rose with madness, "I’ll surpass you by far!"
Zane felt it.
The overwhelming pressure rolling outward, suffocating, indiscriminate.
"This is troubleso," he said calmly. "People here will die under this pressure."
He stepped forward.
"Let’s move the battleground."
Zane moved toward Dren, who was still in the middle of his transformation.
Dren noticed and barked out, half-panicked, half-defiant,
"Wait a minute! Let fully transform! Only then will I be able to fight you!"
Zane didn’t stop.
He closed the distance in an instant, reached out—
And grabbed Dren by the neck.
Both with the heart of deep forge vanished.
Dren’s eyes snapped open.
For a split second, he didn’t understand what he was seeing.
Red earth stretched endlessly beneath his feet, cracked and barren. Above, a vast blue sky arched overhead—clear, deep, and impossibly unfamiliar. And hanging in that sky...
A single sun.
Bright. White-gold.
Not two. Not red.
One.
Dren froze mid-transformation.
"...What?" he muttered.
His head jerked upward again, disbelief flooding his face.
"Blue sky...?"
"Single sun...?"
His breath quickened as he spun around, taking in the alien landscape.
"What the hell is this place?" he shouted.
"Where the hell are we?!"
His gaze snapped to Zane.
"Where did you take us?!"
Zane stood a short distance away, coat fluttering gently despite the still air. His expression was calm, almost apologetic.
"I apologize," Zane said evenly.
"I brought you here to fight."
Dren’s eyes narrowed.
"As you can see," Zane continued, glancing briefly at the sky,
"this isn’t the planet you’re used to."
He looked back at Dren.
"You’re from a world with two red suns... and an orange sky."
Dren’s body convulsed.
"AAAAHHHHHHHH—!!!"
A scream tore from his throat as the transformation intensified. Blinding white light erupted from his chest, swallowing his figure completely. The air trembled, mana roaring outward in violent waves.
The light surged.
Then slowly—faded.
Dren stood there.
The Heart of the Deep Forge was embedded directly in the center of his chest, fully fused, pulsing like a living core. Each beat sent ripples of mana through the air. His eyes were no longer muddy pink—only glowing white sclera remained, shining unnaturally.
His hair, once dull pink, now stood straight, sharpened, shifting into a pale whitish-pink hue. His upper clothes had been torn apart, revealing a body far more muscular than before—dense, unnatural, forged rather than grown.
Mana poured from him endlessly.
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
The air itself bent under the pressure.
Zane watched him calmly.
No surprise.
No tension.
He took a step forward.
"...Co," Zane said quietly.
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