The air grew progressively colder as Sam followed Headmaster Barnaby deeper into the foundations of the Academy. They had bypassed three separate security checkpoints, each requiring a drop of the Headmaster's blood and a complex mana-signature to open.
"The history books say humanity survived the Rifts because we were brave," Barnaby said, his voice echoing off the damp stone walls. "The truth is, we survived because Gaea gave us a shortcut. But shortcuts always have a price, Samuel."
They reached a final, massive circular door made of a dull, grey metal that seemed to swallow the light from the Headmaster's glowing staff. It wasn't decorated with gold or jewels; it was covered in millions of tiny, microscopic etchings—the Language of the First Era.
"Open," Barnaby whispered.
The door didn't creak; it vanished, dissolving into a mist of atoms before reforming once they stepped through.
Sam gasped.
They were standing on a glass walkway suspended over a literal abyss. In the center of the vast, hollowed-out cavern floated a crystalline structure the size of a mountain. It glowed with a rhythmic, golden-green light that felt achingly familiar to Sam.
"This is the First Rift Anchor," Barnaby explained, gesturing to the massive crystal. "It is the drain-plug of our world. It sucks the chaotic mana from the spatial rifts and converts it into the 'Blessings' that fuel the System. Your levels, your skills, your very interface—it all comes from this machine."
Sam stepped closer to the railing. His [Spirit] stat was vibrating so hard he felt nauseous. To everyone else, this was a power source. To him, it looked like a Gallows.
"It's failing," Sam said, his voice barely a whisper.
Barnaby stopped walking. He turned to look at Sam, his eyes sharp and grim. "You can see it? Not even the High Council believes me. They see the glow and think we have centuries left."
"I don't just see it, Headmaster. I hear it."
Sam closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, the crystal wasn't a solid object. It was a dying lung, struggling to breathe. The golden-green light—Gaea's light—was being strangled by a creeping, oily purple rot at the core.
"The seals aren't just breaking," Sam continued, remembering Gaea's nonchalance in the garden. "They're being eaten from the inside. In three years... maybe less... this anchor will shatter. And when it does, every dungeon on the planet will open at once."
Barnaby sighed, a sound of immense weariness. "I brought you here to see if you were just a lucky boy with a high recovery rate, or if you were something more. You are the only student in five hundred years to recognize the decay."
Suddenly, Sam's system window flickered. It wasn't the usual blue or the golden-green of Gaea's blessing. It was pure white.
[HIDDEN QUEST TRIGGERED]
Quest: The Last Architect
Objective: Stabilize the First Anchor.
Current Status: Critical (0.01% Stability).
Warning: A 'Catalyst' is required to bridge the gap between Human and Divine Mana.
"Headmaster," Sam said, his hand glowing with a soft blue light as he reached out toward the abyss. "You asked why I'm so efficient. It's because I'm not just a mage. I'm a reservoir."
Sam didn't wait for permission. He activated [Mana Gift], but he didn't aim it at Eli. He aimed it at the Anchor.
"What are you doing?!" Barnaby shouted, stepping forward to stop him. "You'll be drained in seconds! That crystal consumes gigajoules of—"
Barnaby stopped.
Sam's body was encased in a pillar of blinding light. Because his [MP Recovery] was percentage-based, the more mana he poured out, the more the world rushed in to fill the vacuum. He was acting as a lightning rod, drawing the ambient mana of the room, refining it through his Tier 2 circuits, and injecting it into the dying heart of the world.
MP: 450/450 -> 0 -> 450 -> 0...
Recovery Loop Active.
The purple rot inside the crystal shrieked—a sound only Sam could hear—as the pure, refined blue mana began to cauterize the infection. The cavern groaned. The glass walkway shook.
For ten minutes, Sam stood as a bridge between the mortal realm and the divine anchor. His hair turned white, then back to black, as the sheer volume of energy aged and rejuvenated his cells in cycles.
Finally, with a sound like a thunderclap, the purple rot retreated into the center of the crystal, sealed away by a new, blue-tinted layer of Mana-Glass.
Anchor Stability: 1.50% (Temporary Patch Applied).
Time Remaining: 5 Years.
Sam collapsed. Barnaby caught him before he hit the glass, looking at the boy with a mixture of terror and reverence.
"You just... you just bought the world two more years," the Headmaster whispered.
Sam looked up, his eyes bloodshot but his spirit calm. "Don't get too excited, Headmaster. It's just a patch. I need to get stronger. We need... we need to find the other Anchors."
He thought of Eli, currently Level 10 and fighting for her life. He thought of the Prince, who was likely looking for darker ways to grow.
"Headmaster," Sam gasped, "tell no one. If the Council knows I can feed the Anchor, they'll turn me into a battery in a literal cage. I need to move. I need to go to the front lines."
Barnaby nodded slowly, his mind racing. "You won't go as a student. You'll go as my Special Envoy. But first... you need a weapon that can handle that flow. The library won't have what you need."
Barnaby looked into the depths of the vault. "There is a forge in the Lion God mountains, manned by a Smith who hasn't seen a worthy soul in a century. We leave at dawn."
Sam closed his eyes, his [MP Recovery] already ticking back up.
1... 2... 3... The gears of fate had turned. The Scholar was leaving his books, and the world was about to find out just how dangerous a "Battery" could be when it decided to fight back.