Checking throughout the vicinity, Lucian noticed a layer of dark mana, surrounding the entire space around him.
Looking closely, he realized that the dark mana flowed differently than the others. Rather than following its natural path, it swirled all around a single passage, enveloping it completely in its shade as it met in front at a single point.
There, it produced a serene, luminous glow in the form of an imaginary door. However, Lucian still could not think of any way outside.
Though his vision had changed, his world had changed; unlike before, Lucian could not see through its core.
In the fireball's case, its core was the spell circle that represented the fireball's true body. But, right now, all that Lucian saw was just the ever-revolving Dark-Mana.
For several moments, He stood completely frozen with his eyes darting from one direction to the other — continuously observing the mana and analyzing its flow.
As time passed, his face changed many times. His brows dipped low in frustration, and deep lines surfaced over his forehead in stress. For several minutes, he did not blink. And when he did, he grew weary.
Before he could know, the deep crimson hue had completely taken over his pupils, emanating a crimson glow that bled from the crevice of his eyes in streaks of lightning.
Seconds turned into minutes, and time slipped through his hands like sand grains from someone's palm.
Suddenly, his eyes widened in astonishment and his lips curled into a cheerful smile.
"It sure took some time, but I guess I found it." He muttered under his breath, heaving a weary sigh.
Looking through the mana flow, he had observed something subtle, yet, out of place. He had noticed a pattern.
A pattern that the dark mana followed unconditionally, creating an endless cycle all around him.
It entered from behind, creating an ever-swirling coating of dark mana, meeting in front and condensing into the door before reaching its way out behind.
Though it seemed complicated in appearance, in reality, it was far from that.
"The key to solving this," he said while raising his arms sideways, "should be this!"
In a heartbeat, he interfered with the scraps of mana lingering in the air around his hands and accumulated it on the surface of his palms. Giving it a rough shape of a small white marble, with a sudden surge, he shot them out.
"Kuhuk!" As he did so, his mana paths that had already been worsened by his previous forced use of mana, fell on the verge of collapse.
Blood surged within his body like a flood, seeping out from all of his facial orifices.
An incredible pain slithered through his spine, but he refused to waver. Standing still, Lucian made sure his attempt went through successfully.
Upon contact, the seemingly white mana simply phased through the dark coating. In common sense, his attempt had already become a loss. And yet, he showed no signs of remorse; instead, his smile only grew more vile.
*Crack!*
A sharp sound reverberated through the passage as countless cracks appeared over the once seemingly infinite space. Connecting with each other, the dark mana slowly began to crumble apart from behind, revealing an old wooden door.
Lowering his hands, he instantly grabbed his stomach and let out wet, guttural coughs of blood.
Gasping for air in rough, irrational groans, Lucian straightened his back and turned around, only to smile towards the wooden door with a freshly bloodied face.
With slow steps, he reached out to the door and pushed it open in a single go.
Walking through, the soft smell of ink and parchments infiltrated his lungs. Up front, he saw a blurred silhouette of someone sitting on a chair.
At the same time, loud heartfelt laughter began to echo within the room.
"I knew my assumption wasn't wrong," laughing out loud, the old man leaned back over his chair.
"So you did really get your bloodline prowess back," he clapped joyfully and continued, "Fabulous! You amaze me yet again."
"It's been a while, Lucian..." The old man's laughter quietened as his eyes met with the dark crimson irises of the man standing in front.
"Sure has been, Old man," Lucian said calmly, enduring the pain within his body.
Moving forward, Lucian stopped on the first step after entering the door. The old man found it strange, but didn't mention it.
"So, what's your answer?" The old man asked in a complacent tone.
"It's still a no, but a different kind." He replied.
Hearing his words, the slight smile on the old man's face ceased to exist. The atmosphere suddenly felt strange to Lucian. Heavier. Denser.
Lucian, already in a battered state, froze in terror. It wasn't psychological, but physical terror. A kind where his body refused to move as it feared "death".
"State your reason, Lucian Arkwright, for it may be your last words." The old man snarled coldly.