Chapter 260: Mid Amethyst Rank!

The basin did not immediately react to the death of its guardians. It was as if the controllers believed they still had everything under total control, and that thought unsettled Albedo more than anything else.

Ash drifted slowly to the ground, settling among bone fragments and broken stone, but the air pressure did not spike. The shimmer at the far end of the basin continued its faint, unstable oscillation, neither strengthening nor receding.

It was waiting.

Just like the constructs had.

Albedo kept his gaze on it for several seconds longer than necessary before finally turning away. The momentary relief he’d felt at the arrival of the Professors faded, replaced by the familiar, colder awareness that whatever intelligence governed this space had simply recalculated.

“Anyone injured?” Albedo asked, voice steady.

A few students flinched at being addressed so directly, but the Professors responded immediately.

“Minor injuries,” Halen said, “Mostly small cuts or Mana Exhaustion. There was one concussion, but nothing near fatal,”

“Two students nearly burned out their cores,” the ash-blond Professor added, “I stabilized them, but they shouldn’t be fighting again today.”

Albedo nodded. “They won’t.”

He glanced around the basin, assessing lines of sight, elevation, and the way the forest edge warped at irregular intervals. The shimmer remained visible from only this angle. Already, shadows were beginning to creep inward, distorting depth perception.

“This place won’t let us linger,” he said, “But we need to rest anyway.”

Halen raised an eyebrow. “You planning to argue with the space?”

“No, but we need to quickly get out of here,” Albedo said.

He moved toward the center of the basin and crouched, pressing his palm to the ground again. The soil here still felt real.

“This area has higher persistence,” he continued. “It’s a junction. That’s why the guardians were stationed here.”

“And the shimmer?” one student asked cautiously.

“A pressure valve,” Albedo said. “Not the exit itself. More like a staging point.”

The Professors exchanged looks.

“That means there’s more between us and freedom,” Halen said.

“Yes.”

“And you expect it to get worse.”

“Yes.”

A long silence followed.

Then Halen sighed. “All right. We’ll make camp.”

Several students looked alarmed.

“Here?”

Albedo straightened. “Not camp,” he corrected. “Stabilize.”

The Professors nodded, and soon the basin filled with quiet, efficient movement. Students gathered near the most stable stone formations. Bedrolls were laid out without enchantments. Light was provided by simple lanterns rather than mana constructs.

Albedo watched it all with half his attention. The other half was inward.Perfect Adaptation compensated, but the margin was narrowing.

’I can’t keep doing this at Gold.’

He exhaled slowly.

Peak Gold Rank had once felt overwhelming, but things changed so fast that it was now inefficient.

The constructs had nearly pushed him to a breaking point. Not because they were stronger, but because the environment magnified every limitation.

If he wanted to lead these people through what came next, he needed more than precision. He needed depth.

He stood and moved toward the edge of the basin, where the ground sloped gently upward and the pressure was marginally lower.

Halen noticed immediately. “You’re not resting.”

Albedo shook his head. “I can’t.”

The Professor studied him for a long moment. “You planning something dangerous?”

“Yes.”

Halen grimaced. “I thought so.”

Albedo met his gaze evenly. “I won’t risk anyone else.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know.”

Another silence.

Finally, Halen stepped aside. “Then I’ll keep watch.”

Albedo inclined his head once in thanks and moved away from the group, stopping near a cluster of half-buried stone pillars that formed a natural windbreak.

He sat cross-legged, spine straight, hands resting loosely on his knees.

Then he reached inward, and called the System.

A translucent interface flickered briefly before him, muted and subdued by the space, but still responsive. His gaze settled on a single item.

Phoenix Potion.

Rewarded after Axion. He hadn’t touched it since, as he didn’t have a particular need for it, but now he did.

He manifested the vial into his hand. The glass was warm, almost hot, as if a living flame churned within. The liquid inside shimmered between deep crimson and molten gold, threads of light weaving through it like burning veins.

Even sealed, it radiated power.

Halen’s voice drifted from behind him. “What is that?”

“Some much needed help,” Albedo muttered, uncorking the vial and drinking it.

Fire exploded through his veins. Not the destructive inferno of Crimson Apocalypse Flames, but the sharp, clean Phoenix Fire.

It tore through his body without resistance, burning away impurities he hadn’t even known were there. Micro-fractures in his mana channels sealed instantly, reforged stronger. Old scars, physical and spiritual alike, were reduced to ash and rewritten.

Albedo gasped, back arching as heat surged through his core.

His Dragon Heart hammered and his Soul burned.

Memories surfaced, his first death, the cold emptiness after reincarnation, the early years of weakness, the weight of protecting Gwen, the countless battles where he’d cut corners to survive.

All of it was fed to the flame, and the flame judged him worthy.

His Crimson Apocalypse Flames responded instantly, flaring within his mana core, not raging, but harmonizing. The wild edges refined themselves, becoming denser, more obedient. What had once been a weapon of annihilation now felt like an extension of his will.

His control deepened and his power condensed. Albedo’s teeth clenched as the Phoenix fire reached his soul.

For a moment he felt as if he were dying again. Then the fire folded inward. Albedo slumped forward, hands braced against the stone, breath coming in ragged pulls.

He felt an outrageous surge of mana running through his body as he pushed the limits.

Mana flowed into him more readily now, drawn by a core that had expanded, thickened, transformed. Where Gold Rank had been a wide reservoir, Amethyst was a forge, denser, more resistant, capable of sustaining far greater pressure.

His core cracked, expanded and reformed multiple times, one after another.

Mana surged as the forest reacted, branches trembling and shadows stretching, but Albedo kept his output tightly controlled, drawing just enough to advance without triggering a full response.

Seconds stretched to minutes. Sweat rolled down his brow as he pushed, compressed, refined.

And then,

~CLICK!~

The invisible barrier shattered.

Amethyst Rank.

Power flooded him. His senses sharpened without distortion. His body felt lighter, stronger, more resilient.

He kept going.

The Phoenix fire had cleared the path. His core stabilized faster than expected. Mana obeyed more readily, flowing into precise channels without turbulence.

He advanced again, and by the time he finally opened his eyes, Albedo’s aura had changed massively.

Mid Amethyst Rank.

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