Lucien took a deep breath, his mind working furiously to find an escape. If Alter Lucien and Garrick Fendrel were truly connected, then this was unlikely to be a coincidence—it was either a test that had been deliberately set up or, worse, a game that had been orchestrated from the beginning.
Blub!
Bubbles began forming one by one.
Along the walls of the room, more than ten bubbles expanded rapidly. Inside them, sharp thorns grew larger over time. If those thorns touched the surface of the bubbles, the bubbles would burst, launching the thorns in all directions.
In such a confined space, if all the bubbles exploded at once, avoiding their attack would be nearly impossible.
As the three of them tried to come up with a solution, one bubble suddenly burst.
Plop!
A thorn inside, resembling a jagged gray bone, shot forward at high speed.
Swoosh!
Victor immediately raised his large sword, positioning it right in front of his face.
Clang!
The thorn struck the flat side of his blade, but it didn't stop there.
Crack!
Instead of breaking, the thorn rebounded in another direction, striking another bubble in the room.
Lucien gritted his teeth. Though he was confident he wouldn't be seriously harmed, he couldn't say the same for his two companions.
At that moment, an idea flashed through his mind.
Lucien's eyes widened as he quickly reached into his pocket. His fingers touched the hard surface of a crystal—Spirit Core.
It was the spirit core of the Spectral Wraith they had defeated earlier!
Plop!
The bubble hit by the thorn burst, sending even more thorns flying unpredictably across the room.
Realizing that simply blocking these attacks would only accelerate the destruction of their weapons and cause the thorns to ricochet unpredictably, the three of them finally resorted to dodging one by one.
As one thorn shot toward him, Lucien calmly stepped back, letting it pass without touching him. At the same time, he opened his palm.
With the last bit of mana he had left, he began to condense it. Blue energy swirled above his hand, glowing softly as it took shape.
A hammer.
But it was incomplete. The hammer appeared translucent, like an illusion that had yet to fully materialize. It was an unfinished form of his Ethereal Hammer.
Lucien stared at it with a dissatisfied expression.
"No… This won't work," he muttered under his breath.
There was a clear sense of frustration in his eyes as he looked at his sigil hammer.
His original plan was to forge the Spirit Core right here, but given the dire situation, he realized that was nearly impossible. With his hammer still incomplete, the process would take longer than they could afford. Right now, they didn't have the luxury of time.
Besides, forging a Spirit Core without additional materials carried enormous risks, especially with his own lack of experience with Spirit Cores.
Victor, who had been watching him, glanced at the faintly glowing sigil hammer in Lucien's palm with a puzzled look.
Lucien knew their only option now was to hold on until Garrick finally intervened.
But one question continued to haunt him—how much longer would that take?
This was one of the rare moments that truly made Lucien want to clench his fists in frustration. He still had to figure out the reason behind Alter Lucien's actions, as well as the connection between Garrick Fendrel—a Master Blacksmith serving as an instructor at the academy—and the spirit that now shared his body.
Not knowing the answers to these things made him even more frustrated.
Swhoossh!
Swhoossh!
One, two, three…
Thorns shot across the room, spinning ceaselessly, ricocheting from one surface to another with no signs of stopping.
Drip!
Blood dripped slowly.
Lucien felt a sting on his cheek—a shallow cut from one of the thorns that had narrowly grazed him.
Crack!
Victor's sword finally reached its limit. The blade shattered into pieces, leaving only a small section near the hilt.
Meanwhile, Elara had managed to evade all the attacks so far with her extraordinary reflexes.
But the problem was that the number of thorns was increasing every second. Each time one bubble burst, another would form, bringing more thorns ready to launch.
They couldn't do anything.
This was the absolute difference between a Novice Blacksmith and a Noble Spirit—a power gap too vast to bridge with their current abilities.
"All right. Now I'm ready."
Alter Lucien's voice echoed in his mind.
Lucien instinctively stepped back, his brows furrowing.
"Let me take control."
"What?" Lucien asked, though he already had a good idea of what he meant.
"Give me control over this body."
A vague understanding began to form in his mind. The shift in control between himself and Alter Lucien seemed to have its own system.
As the original owner of this body, Lucien had no restrictions on maintaining control. But it was different for Alter Lucien. As he had experienced before, Alter Lucien could only take over the body for a limited time—and once that limit was reached, he would be forced to return control to Lucien because his soul could no longer withstand the strain.
More importantly, this switch required the consent of both parties.
Alter Lucien could only take control if Lucien granted him permission.
Unlike when they first connected, it seemed a new mechanism had been established now that their two souls resided within a single Mana Core.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
"So… you created a situation where I have no choice but to hand over control?" he muttered internally.
Alter Lucien chuckled.
"Not exactly. This is just a coincidence… that happens to align with my plan."
Two thorns shot straight toward Lucien. With sharp reflexes, he quickly sidestepped one aimed at his chest. However, the second thorn, targeting his arm, was not so easily avoided.
Sssssttt!
Just before the thorn could pierce his skin, its tip suddenly transformed—like boiling lava—before vanishing into thin air.
Lucien frowned.
"What…?"
He immediately stopped moving, his eyes narrowing as his mind started working.
"This… is an Elementalist's attribute… But who could have done it?"
In an instant, a single name surfaced in his mind.
"Garrick Fendrel."
Realization struck him.
He didn't need to wait for Garrick Fendrel to step in—because the man was already involved from the start!
From somewhere, Garrick had been watching them, ensuring that no attack could truly harm his body.
Lucien glanced to the side.
"Argh!"
Elara screamed in pain.
One of the thorns had pierced her leg, causing her to stumble before collapsing onto the floor. She gritted her teeth, unable to stand.
At the same time, Alter Lucien's voice echoed in his mind again.
"Hurry up and give me control… unless you want to watch your teammates die here."
But instead of answering, Lucien moved swiftly.
He jumped toward Elara.
Once again, the thorns that were originally aiming for her melted away as he deliberately positioned himself between the attacks and Elara.
Without hesitation, he reached for Victor and pulled him closer.
Now, the three of them were standing together in a single spot—with Lucien intentionally absorbing every incoming strike.
He could use this.
Use the fact that Alter Lucien wouldn't let this body suffer serious injuries.
Even if Alter Lucien didn't care about Elara and Victor's safety, Lucien knew he could still manipulate the situation to his advantage.
He didn't need to surrender control.
Elara sat on the floor, her injured leg making it impossible to stand. She stared at Lucien, eyes full of questions. But Lucien didn't turn to her, his mind too focused on finding a bigger solution.
"What are you doing? How are you doing this?" she asked.
Without looking back, Lucien simply replied, "Don't ask too many questions. Focus on getting out of here." He continued to hold off the barrage of thorns.
But he knew this wasn't a permanent solution.
Another question arose—how much longer could they last?
If they couldn't find a way to destroy this bubble trap, this would never end. Their only options were to wait until the Guardian Bubble ran out of mana—which could take a long time—or hope that someone from the academy noticed the anomaly and intervened.
Then, an idea struck him.
With the number of thorns slowly decreasing thanks to Garrick's protection, Lucien finally had a moment to think clearly.
Without hesitation, he tossed the Spirit Core he was holding toward Elara and Victor. "Do you know how to forge?"
Victor looked at him in confusion, still struggling to ignore the fact that Lucien had somehow been destroying the thorns in such a mysterious way.
"Forge?" Elara repeated, perplexed.
"Regular attacks won't break through this bubble trap," Lucien explained. "If we can forge the remaining Spirit Core into a mystic weapon, we might have a chance."
Elara scoffed. "Are you insane? You expect us to forge in a situation like this?!"
Instructor Selene Varian had warned them—attempting to forge without an instructor's supervision was a serious violation. And for good reason. Reckless forging was dangerous. A Spirit Core could explode, or worse, spiral out of control.
Beyond that, none of them had any experience in forging Spirit Cores. Their training so far had only involved crafting practical tools—never anything involving Spirit Cores.
"Even if we successfully forge a mystic weapon," Elara continued, "there's no guarantee it will be strong enough to break the bubble trap! This trap was created by a Noble Spirit—the gap in power is too vast for a Lesser Spirit to overcome!"
Lucien was fully aware of the risks. But he also knew this was their only chance.
It was better to try something than to sit and wait for a miracle. If there was one thing he had learned from his past, it was that having the courage to take action could make all the difference.
That was one of his biggest regrets.
The barrage of thorns stopped.
A brief silence filled the room before the bubbles started reforming.
Breathing heavily, Lucien stared at Elara. "Then come up with another solution yourself." His gaze was piercing—so intense that Elara felt a shiver run down her spine. It was the same look he had given her when they argued after the Frost Wolf fight.
Elara bit her lip, hesitation still gripping her.
Without warning, a hammer materialized in her grasp. A silver hammer, gleaming under the purple glow of the surrounding bubbles. Its size was similar to Lucien's hammer, but it looked more solid—more real.
At the center of its head, a blue crystal pulsed with streaks of white lightning flickering inside, like a core of raw energy.
Lucien's eyes darkened slightly as he observed it.
Elara was an Elemental Sigil user.
She couldn't forge using the Spirit Cores from the Spectral Wraith or Phantom Eye that Victor possessed. So instead, she had taken the Spirit Core from the Frost Wolf—an ice-element creature.
She used her own lightweight sword as additional material or a medium.
"Fuck it," she muttered under her breath, lifting the hammer into the air.
Ting!
A small blue ripple spread outward as the hammer struck the surface of the Frost Wolf's Spirit Core.
White lightning crackled from the core, spreading across its surface, acting as a substitute for the fire normally used in practical forging.
Mana waves rippled through the air with every strike.
Lucien watched in silence, still fending off the remaining thorns.
—
Inside Lucien's subconscious.
Alter Lucien had somehow conjured a chair out of nowhere.
Sitting comfortably, a sly grin stretched across his face as he watched the scene unfold through Lucien's eyes.