SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign-Chapter 25: Panic Spell

Lucen scraped the last noodle from the bowl and slurped it without ceremony.

The egg was long gone. The broth puddled at the bottom like tired soup tears. His mouth burned just enough to remind him he was alive.

He dropped the chopsticks into the empty bowl.

They clacked louder than he meant them to.

Nobody looked.

Good.

He slid out of the booth and stretched his legs. One knee cracked like a bottle cap.

'That's healthy. Definitely normal seventeen-year-old behavior. Can't wait to unlock arthritis at level five.'

The waitress didn't even glance up as he passed. Someone in the kitchen yelled about an oil spill. The door dinged behind him as he stepped outside.

City air hit his face. Cooler now. The wind had picked up.

The smell wasn't terrible. Not clean, but not full garbage either. Just that mix of wet metal, car fumes, and deep fryer grease that meant you were still somewhere people lived.

Lucen stood under the yellow awning for a second.

Didn't move.

Just watched the street across from him.

The pawn shop had its gate down halfway, like it wasn't sure if it was open or not. A guy stood out front, pacing. Thin jacket. Frayed collar. Messy hair. Mana crystal tucked under his arm like a football.

He kept glancing at the side of the shop.

Then back down the road.

Then back again.

Lucen narrowed his eyes.

'Sketchy guy. Mana core. Waiting on someone. Either about to get robbed, or already did and doesn't know it.'

The guy stopped suddenly.

He turned and muttered something toward the alley behind the pawn shop.

No one answered.

Lucen leaned against the post and pulled his system window open for the first time since he left the drift.

Level: 3

Stat Points Available: 3

New Spell Slot: 4/4

Talent: Spellcraft Sovereign

Class Rank: SSS

System Mode: Adaptive Designer

Passive: Spell Efficiency +12%

Behavioral Stealth: Active

Unique Trait Node: Deferred

Spells:

– Unstable Kinetic Point

– Gravitic Snap

– Tension Mark

– [EMPTY SLOT]

The stat screen sat there, clean as ever.

Dexterity was still at ten.

Lucen thought about it.

Then hovered his finger over it.

'Could dump all three points here. Faster glyph control. Tighter arcs. Would help if something jumps me again. Or I could toss one into Endurance and pretend I care about cardio.'

He slid two points into Dexterity.

Held the last one.

Didn't know why.

Felt like spending it would commit him to something.

The screen flashed once.

Dexterity: 12

Lucen closed the panel with a tap.

Across the street, the sketchy guy was gone.

Just... gone.

Lucen blinked.

'No door creak. No footsteps. No van. No fade-out shimmer. Either he teleported or he crouched real fast behind the dumpster like a lizard.'

He stared at the alley.

Nothing moved.

No sound.

No wind.

Just the streetlamp flickering above the pawn shop.

He rubbed his eyes once.

'Nah. Not my problem. I already hit my weekly quota of "almost died in a fog dimension." Let someone else chase shadows for a change.'

Lucen turned left.

Started walking uphill, toward the lights of home, his fourth spell slot still empty.

The stairs to his building made the same sound as always, like someone stepped on a dying accordion.

Lucen didn't rush. He took them slow, two fingers hooked under the strap of his bag to keep it from sliding off.

Third floor. Same cracked hallway. Same flickering light three doors down that blinked in threes like it was trying to communicate with ghosts.

He pulled out his key.

The lock stuck for half a second.

He jiggled it once. It clicked.

The door swung open on quiet hinges.

His apartment smelled like paper, dust, and leftover instant rice. The window was half-open from earlier, letting in just enough breeze to make the system alerts feel like someone else's problem.

Lucen dropped the bag on the floor.

Toed off his boots.

He flicked on the desk lamp.

Warm light spilled across the surface.

Three notebooks. Two sticks of white chalk. A dull mana pen. One backup scroll he bought on impulse a while ago and never used because it smelled like vinegar and regret.

Lucen sat down.

The chair creaked like it wanted to retire.

He pulled the notebook open to a blank page and stared at it for a second.

Then he closed his eyes.

'Back in the drift... there was a glyph drawn on the wall. Unfinished. Looked like someone tried to cast mid-panic and gave up halfway through.'

He pictured it again.

Two interlocking arcs. A small triangle inside. But the angle was wrong. It wasn't pressure-based. It bent inward.

'Right. It looped on itself. Like a delay anchor. Which doesn't make sense unless it's timed. But there was a split line too. Which means it was reactive.'

Lucen reached for the chalk and started sketching.

Line by line.

Slow.

Careful.

The base structure was shaky, but it held.

One curved brace. One flow ring. One delay node at the hinge.

He leaned back.

'That... shouldn't work. It's not connected cleanly. There's no release condition.'

But his system pulsed softly anyway.

Spell Structure Recognized

Stability: 61%

Behavior: Timed-Delay Trigger

Status: Inert until cast

Would you like to bind this spell?

Lucen stared at it.

Then wrote in the corner of the page.

[Hold Point]

He didn't smile.

But the corner of his mouth twitched like it thought about it.

'Somebody left this half-finished in a drift trap and still got out. Must've been good. Or lucky. Either way, they were close. Real close. Probably thought they were about to die and just etched the first thing they could remember.'

He flipped the notebook closed.

Let the chalk drop onto the table.

Then leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.

'If I can finish someone else's panic spell from memory... what happens when I start building the good ones on purpose?'

The room didn't answer.

But the system did.

Spell Archived: [Hold Point]

Mana Cost: 4

Duration Anchor: 3 seconds

Effect: Delay-cast pressure burst on trigger boundary

Status: Experimental

Lucen stood slowly.

His legs felt steady again.

Sort of.

He turned off the lamp.

The window creaked softly in the wind.

Outside, someone was arguing in the alley about mana tax fraud. A cat yowled from a rooftop. A scooter zipped past too fast and clipped a trash bin.

Lucen didn't look outside.

He just walked into the bathroom. freewёbnoνel.com

Washed his hands.

Watched the gray-black fog dust circle the drain.

'Tomorrow's gonna be worse.'

He didn't know why.

But he was probably right.