SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign-Chapter 32: Decent Team (5)

The gauntlets moved again.

One darted forward, claws out.

Senna deflected with the flat of her sword, but it kept going, swinging wide in a boomerang arc that carved a groove into the stone floor.

Lucen watched the pieces float.

Watched how they moved.

There was a rhythm. A pull.

Every time they hit, they drifted a little closer to the same point.

A spot in the center of the room.

A small, almost perfect circle etched into the ground.

’A reformation glyph?’

He stared harder.

It wasn’t glowing. Not active.

Just old.

Ancient lines. Sharp symmetry. The kind of etching that wasn’t done by hand but by intent. Like the glyph had willed itself into the stone over time.

Lucen whispered, "It’s trying to reset."

Mira glanced over. "What?"

"It’s not just attacking. It’s pulling itself back together."

Senna kicked off the far wall and slid low across the floor, her blade dragging a faint spark trail behind her.

"Then stop it."

Lucen growled under his breath.

’Yeah. Easy. Just rewrite a containment field mid-fight against possessed air armor.’

He pulled up his system interface mid-run.

Spell slot two flickered. [Tension Mark] was still cooling.

Slot four—[Hold Point]—barely recharged.

Mana: 24/61

He slid down beside the glyph circle and planted both palms against the stone.

’Okay. Think. Think like the system. What do you need to seal something that doesn’t have a center of mass?’

The helmet zipped past his head and missed by inches.

Lucen didn’t flinch.

He was tracing the circle now, fingers glowing.

He added a split branch. Then a pivot rune.

Then one of his own marks. Not from the library. From instinct.

The spell snapped open.

[Containment Thread – Prototype]

The floor glowed.

Not bright. Not loud.

Just a soft hum. Like something had finally remembered it was supposed to be awake.

The armor twitched.

All of it.

Every floating piece jerked toward the circle.

Senna’s eyes widened. "You actually—"

A pulse slammed through the floor.

The glyph surged.

Then cracked.

Lucen felt it break the same way you feel teeth grind together wrong.

The helmet screamed.

Not a sound. A pressure.

Mira dropped to one knee, clutching her head.

Senna fell to one side.

Lucen staggered back, blood leaking from one nostril.

’Okay. It’s got a voice. Good to know. Bad to feel.’

He fell against the wall.

The glyph was still pulsing.

Weak now. Fading.

But something was working.

The gauntlets had frozen in mid-air. One clinked to the floor.

Lucen coughed once. His throat tasted like iron and failure.

Then he grinned.

"Didn’t like that, did you?"

The helmet snapped toward him.

Lucen’s grin dropped.

"Cool. Time to die again."

The helmet launched.

He didn’t move.

But Senna did.

She caught it mid-air with a falling slash.

It spun once. Hit the wall. Then lay still.

The chestplate followed half a second later.

Mira’s arrow pinned it to the ground with a solid thunk.

Lucen stared.

The pieces twitched.

But didn’t rise.

He waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Then the light in the glyph finally went out.

Silence followed.

Real silence.

No scraping.

No humming.

Just slow, unsteady breathing and the faint tick of Mira’s arrow crystal still glowing faintly.

Lucen slumped to the floor.

His system chimed.

[Drift Entity Neutralized – Partial Core Signature Logged]

[+68 EXP]

[EXP: 286 / 300]

[Mana: 11 / 61]

He didn’t smile, instead he blinked slowly.

’Seriously? Fourteen short? That thing felt like a mini-boss and I get pocket change?’

He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

It didn’t blink.

That was the only thing he was grateful for right now.

Senna stepped over one of the fallen gauntlets. Her sword was still in her hand, low at her side, trailing faint steam where the mana had overcharged. Her breathing was calm now. Controlled.

She looked down at him.

Raised an eyebrow.

Lucen said, "You’ve got the murder stare of someone who’s about to ask if I can walk."

"You can walk," she said. Not a question.

He looked at her hand as she offered it. Then at the wall again. Then back at her hand.

"Not if you yank me like you did that helmet."

She didn’t smile. But she didn’t walk away either.

Lucen took it.

He stumbled a little when she pulled, but he was up.

Mira knelt by Callen in the back, her bow unstrung and resting on her knees. She was pressing something to his side.

A folded cloth or maybe just the cleanest part of her sleeve. He was awake. Breathing. But not talking.

Lucen walked over, slow.

Mira didn’t look up.

"Nothing broken," she said. "He just got tossed like a sack of bricks."

"Felt like one too," Callen muttered. "That wall’s got it out for me."

Lucen crouched beside them, one hand braced on his knee.

’286 EXP. Fourteen more. I could hit level four. Maybe unlock another spell slot. Maybe stop getting winded like a freshman in gym class.’

He looked past them.

The corridor ahead was longer than before. Wider. The dust had settled, and the carved stone floor seemed cleaner somehow. Like something had reset the whole place in the seconds they’d been standing there.

Lucen’s fingers twitched.

"Can you move?" he asked Callen.

"I can limp," Callen grunted. "Long as nobody throws me again."

Mira stood, brushing dust from her leggings. "I’m still stocked on arrows. Three infused left."

Lucen turned to Senna. "You good?"

She nodded. "You?"

He didn’t answer.

Just looked back at the armor pieces. Still there. Still scattered. No twitch.

"Yeah," he said. "I’m just thinking."

Senna tilted her head slightly. "About?"

"Reapers. Phased armor. Glyphs that almost break your teeth. Also," he added, "this corridor’s probably about to serve us a second course of ’everything wants you dead.’ So I’m weighing whether I want to be buried in a spell robe or just go full corpse-chic and haunt the next group."

Callen chuckled, then winced. "Don’t make me laugh. Hurts to breathe."

Lucen stood.

His legs ached.

But his mana was creeping back up. Slow. Steady.

[Mana: 13 / 61]

[Recovery Rate: 1.2/sec]

The wall beside him was cool. Dry now. Not as slimy as the descent.

He ran his hand along it.

The glyph he’d tried—[Containment Thread]—was already faded. No trace left but a slight etching in the dust. Like the dungeon had been humoring him.

Lucen looked ahead.

"Let’s move before it changes its mind."

Senna moved first.

Mira followed, her bow nocked with one normal arrow, just in case.

Lucen hung back half a step.

He glanced one more time at the EXP bar.

[286 / 300]

’Fourteen more. Just one more fight. One decent enemy. That’s it.’

The next hallway opened wide. Torch sconces lined the walls. Each one lit on its own as they passed.

Lucen muttered under his breath, "Yup. Totally normal. Not cursed at all."

And followed them deeper into the dark.