A Decade

The decade leading to this moment had been one of relentless toil and sacrifice. From the start, Lennon had known that conquering the ruins would require more than raw talent. The challenge was far beyond his current abilities, so he committed himself entirely to growth.

In the first few years, Lennon hunted magical beasts to refine his combat skills and harvest their valuable cores. These battles were grueling, often leaving him teetering on the edge of death. Level 4 creatures were formidable—each one a beast of raw power, far surpassing his own strength. Yet, their downfall lay in their lack of intelligence, relying solely on primal instincts.

"If they were as intelligent as Magi," Lennon often told himself, "I wouldn't have made it this far."

Each hard-fought victory brought him closer to his goal. He used the harvested cores to enhance his magical reserves and craft enchanted artifacts. With every passing year, his arsenal grew. Through painstaking effort and countless failures, he managed to create a new third-circle spell: *Eclipse Barrage*, an onslaught of void energy that unleashed a devastating storm upon his enemies.

But progress demanded sacrifice. Developing even a single spell was an arduous process, draining him both physically and mentally. Hours of focus, endless experimentation, and countless revisions took their toll. Without his near-machine-like computational prowess, the process could have spanned centuries.

Even so, Lennon knew his efforts were far from enough. The ruins would test him in ways he couldn't fully prepare for. Determined, he dedicated years to gathering every shred of knowledge on Fourth-Circle Magi and their mysterious inheritance grounds. Ancient grimoires, lost journals, and obscure magical texts filled his quarters. He sought out other Magi, exchanging insights and techniques whenever he could.

"Knowledge is power," Lennon whispered one night, flipping through a worn grimoire. "And power is survival."

By the tenth year, he had amassed a formidable collection of spells, artifacts, and resources. His preparations were nearing completion, but there was no room for complacency. The stakes were too high.

He spent the remaining years honing his skills. Lennon ventured into hostile planes, hunting more powerful magical beasts to push his limits further. Each encounter was a test of his resilience. Time after time, he emerged victorious—though barely, his body scarred, his mana reserves dangerously low.

"If they had the intelligence of a Magus," he would remind himself after each grueling battle, "I'd be dead."

Between these deadly encounters, Lennon poured his energy into refining his magic. The process was slow and unforgiving. Without the analytical power of his enchanted assistant, already pushed to its limits, even the smallest advancements took years.

By the sixth year, Lennon had succeeded in perfecting *Eclipse Barrage*. The spell unleashed a sequence of condensed void energy, capable of obliterating his enemies in seconds. But the cost was evident. His mind burned from the strain, and his body bore the scars of countless failures.

"This is the reality of spellcraft," Lennon muttered, staring at his bloodied hands after yet another breakthrough. "Even with my talents, power comes at a cost."

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