Lucius lay on his bed, staring at the wooden beams of the ceiling, his mind drowning in frustration.

  One month.

  That was all the time he had left.

  His body had grown stronger—his grip had improved, his endurance had surpassed what he thought possible—but no matter how much he trained, he couldn’t form the third circle.

  Every night, he meditated, trying to push his mana beyond its current limits. He could feel the third circle—just out of reach, taunting him—but his body simply wouldn't accept it.

  Something was missing.

  He clenched his fists, his breath slow and controlled.

  There has to be a way.

  As exhaustion settled over him, a memory stirred—a conversation from his past life.

  A voice—light, teasing, yet undeniably intelligent—echoed in his mind.

  "Do you know how to improve your mana power or form a new circle faster than anyone?"

  Lucien Velkaris—the name he once carried—had scoffed at the question. He had been at the height of his power, feared and revered as the strongest archmage of the empire. What use did he have for shortcuts?

  "Why would I need to know? I am already the strongest archmage of the empire," he had replied, his tone arrogant, dismissive.

  The woman before him had sighed dramatically, folding her arms across her chest.

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  Elara Lysandria.

  A prodigy of magic theory, a researcher with a mind so sharp it left scholars in awe. She worked directly under the Emperor as one of the leading magical theorists in the empire—yet despite her brilliance, she remained untouched by arrogance.

  She was highly intelligent, yet so clean and innocent, someone who genuinely sought to advance magical knowledge for the world’s sake rather than for power or recognition. A rare kind of purity in a world filled with schemers and ambition-driven minds.

  And of course, she was the one person in the empire who had the gall to tease him, Lucien Velkaris.

  Elara smirked, golden eyes twinkling with mischief.

  "Just listen, oh mighty strongest archmage."

  Lucius could still remember the flicker of amusement in her expression, the way she leaned in as if sharing some grand secret.

  "If you meditate with absolute focus… to the point where you can force your soul to separate from your physical body, you can form a mana circle—even if your body isn’t ready."

  Lucien had raised a brow at that. "That’s ridiculous. The soul and the body are connected. Trying to feel mana without the body is impossible."

  Elara had merely chuckled. "Of course, it’s impossible. But… if the ‘strongest archmage’ says it’s impossible without even trying, then who am I to argue?"

  Lucien had frowned at her sarcasm, crossing his arms. "Then why even mention it? If it’s impossible, it’s useless."

  Elara’s playful expression softened, and for a rare moment, her voice turned serious.

  "Because magic isn’t just about what we know, Lucien. It’s about pushing past what we believe to be true. Even if something seems impossible, that doesn't mean it is. It just means no one has succeeded yet."

  Lucien had scoffed at the time, waving her off. "You and your unproven theories."

  But now…

  Now, Lucius sat up, his heart pounding.

  That was it.

  The soul and the body are connected, but if I can force my soul to step beyond my physical form… then maybe I can bypass my body’s limitations.

  It was a risky, unproven theory.

  If he failed, he could be left permanently crippled in his mana growth—or worse.

  But if it worked…

  Lucius clenched his fists.

  Elara had said it was just a theory. Something she had never tested, something she wasn’t even sure was possible.

  But she had believed in possibilities.

  And now, so would he.

  He had no choice.

  Lucius exhaled, steeling himself.

  This was the only path forward.

  He would succeed—or he would break trying.