A profound sense of unease settled in my gut as the words echoed back from the impenetrable darkness.

  “What the hell is that…”

  There was an unmistakable tremor in Corbin’s voice. Uncertainty. Perhaps even a sliver of genuine fear. Coming from a man who casually obliterated monsters while complaining about the weather, that tone was terrifying.

  I tried to swallow the thick lump forming in my throat. “Wh-what’s… wrong?”

  I received no answer. Instead, I heard the slow, deliberate scrape of boots on stone. Corbin stepped backward into the small circle of light cast by my flaming hands. He raised his right palm, his brow furrowed in concentration. A small flame flickered into existence. Shaking his head, he took a step forward again, moving back into the unknown.

  After just three paces, his flame simply winked out. It didn't sputter or choke; it vanished instantly, as if severed from existence. Corbin’s silhouette disappeared back into the suffocating darkness.

  A moment later, his back reappeared in my light, and his fire flared to life once more.

  This time, he turned to face me. His usual arrogant smirk was entirely gone, replaced by a look of deep, unsettling confusion. He glanced over his shoulder into the black tunnel, then back to me.

  “You try it,” he said, his voice tight.

  A hollow feeling opened in my stomach. If Corbin thought whatever was down there was dangerous, he wouldn't send me in first, right? But the tight lines around his eyes made me doubt that logic.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath, filling my lungs with the damp, coppery air of the mine. I stepped past him, holding my burning right hand high like a torch.

  One meter. The light pushed the shadows back slightly. Two meters. The air felt inexplicably heavier here. Three meters. Four me—

  My flames died.

  Both hands. Instantly.

  I didn't feel a gust of wind or a drop in temperature. The fire was just… gone. Plunged into absolute blackness, I stared down at my hands, unable to see them.

  Panic spiked, sharp and hot. I focused on my hands, willing the fire to return. I visualized the roaring flames, pushing the mana toward my skin.

  Nothing. Not even a spark.

  Cautiously, I tried to force more mana into the spell, pushing harder. The mana simply wouldn't ignite.

  Bewildered, I shifted my focus away from fire. I visualized a simple gust of wind. I felt the mana leave my core, travel up my arm, and… vanish. No breeze ruffled my hair. I tried a water sphere next, waiting for the familiar splash. Silence.

  Gripped by fear and confusion, I fumbled to relight my fire, then rapidly retreated from the overwhelming darkness.

  As soon as I crossed whatever invisible threshold existed there, the flames on my gauntlets roared back to life, bathing me in their warm orange light. I stumbled back to Corbin, my chest heaving.

  “My magic doesn't work in there,” I explained, breathless. “At first, I thought maybe the air was bad. But I couldn't generate air or water magic either. Is there such a thing as anti-magic? Or is there just… no mana beyond that point?”

  My gaze drifted back to the lightless tunnel. It no longer looked like an empty corridor; it looked like the open maw of a beast.

  Corbin stared at me, processing the information. Slowly, he shook his head.

  “You’re really sharp, kid,” he admitted, rubbing his stubbled chin. “I’ll admit, my first thought was bad air too. Testing other elements? I didn't think of that.”

  He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “To answer your question… I’ve never heard of anti-magic. And mana free zones are a myth. Supposedly, in the duels of the greatest mages, sometimes so much mana was consumed that it created a temporary void. But even then, ambient mana from the surrounding area would flow in to fill the vacuum almost immediately.”

  He looked back at me, his expression grim. “So, if there is a permanent void down there… we’ve stumbled onto something either incredibly special, or absolutely catastrophic.”

  “Wh-what do we do now?” I asked, hating the tremor in my voice. “Do we go back? Get torches, lanterns, and come back prepared?”

  The mere thought of stepping back into that zone without magic made me feel like I was back on the streets of my old world. Helpless. A victim waiting to happen. Against a few stray goblins, pure physical strength might suffice. But against the massive creature that had stared at me from the forest edge months ago? Not a chance. Down there, Corbin and I weren't powerful mages. We were just civilians.

  My gaze fell on Corbin, and I felt a sense of helplessness.

  He sighed, a long, tired sound. “I can only tell you that this makes me suspicious. And maybe even a little paranoid. We can keep walking down this dark corridor, completely blind, and risk walking straight into a monster or falling down a shaft. Or maybe our magic works again after ten meters.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He locked eyes with me. “I wouldn't risk it. I wouldn't take another step forward without proper light. But ultimately, it’s your call.”

  Everything in me screamed to turn around. I wasn't stupid enough to ignore my gut. I could train for the tournament anywhere else. If I died down here, blind and powerless, everything I had promised Pip would be for nothing.

  I shook my head firmly. “Come on. We’re leaving. We’ll come back tomorrow, better prepared.”

  Corbin let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. He nodded in agreement and gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. “I think that’s a very sensible decision.”

  He gently turned me by the shoulders, pointing me back toward the exit. Sighing, I put one foot in front of the other, eager to leave this oppressive place behind.

  And then, an icy shiver violently raced down my spine.

  “Coward…”

  The voice echoed down the tunnel behind us. It was grotesque, distorted, sounding like vocal cords grinding together with wet gravel. It wasn't the chittering of a goblin; it was deep, resonant, and undeniably intelligent.

  My head snapped around, my eyes wide with shock, meeting Corbin’s equally horrified gaze.

  We spun around simultaneously. Before I could peer into the darkness to see what was emerging, a massive wall of roaring fire erupted right in front of my nose.

  “SEARING VEIL!”

  Corbin bellowed the incantation. He stood with his legs planted wide, his hands glowing white-hot as he fed torrents of mana into the blazing barrier. The fire screamed as it consumed the damp air, casting erratic shadows against the rock walls.

  He hissed over his shoulder, teeth bared in effort. “Go! Keep moving! I’ll cover our asses!”

  I didn't need to be told twice. Turning, I moved forward, the intense heat and noise of the fire wall close behind me. I pumped mana into my gauntlets, creating the thickest, brightest flames I could manage to light our way, fists raised and ready to strike.

  Every few steps, I glanced over my shoulder. Corbin was retreating slowly, walking backward, his eyes fixed intently on his spell. The wall of fire moved with him, a moving barricade against whatever horror lurked in the dark.

  We fought our way back through the winding mine. The oppressive atmosphere pressed down harder with every step. After several agonizing minutes of constant casting, I felt the familiar, hollow ache building in my chest. My mana reserves were depleting fast.

  “Corbin,” I called out, my voice tight. “I can’t hold my spell much longer! What should I do?!”

  Corbin glanced back for a fraction of a second. “Release your magic!” he commanded. “Grab my collar. Stay close behind me, hold on tight, and guide me backward until your mana regenerates! Understood?!”

  The thought of extinguishing my only source of light was repulsive, but staying blind while Corbin held out was better than burning out completely. I exhaled sharply, cutting off the flow of mana. The flames on my gauntlets died, plunging my vicinity into the chaotic orange glow of Corbin’s wall.

  I stepped up close behind him, grabbing the thick fabric of his coat collar with a firm grip.

  “I got you,” I said. “Step back. Left a bit. Straight now.”

  I became his eyes, guiding him through the uneven tunnel while he focused entirely on holding the fiery barricade. The path seemed endless. Suffocating heat radiated from his spell, sending trails of sweat down my face. Above the roar, the screeching flames masked any sound of pursuit.

  Eventually, the air began to change. The smell of old rock gave way to the draft from outside. I saw a faint, grey smudge in the distance. Daylight.

  The fresh, crisp spring air rushed to meet us as we crossed the threshold of the mine entrance. The hard stone beneath my boots gave way to grass and earth.

  “We… we made it,” I gasped, letting go of his collar and falling backward into the grass.

  Corbin remained on high alert. He backed up into the clearing, sweeping his gaze left and right along the treeline. Only when he was satisfied that the area was clear did he slowly let his wall of fire collapse.

  The sudden absence of the roaring flames left a ringing silence. Corbin swayed on his feet, suddenly looking incredibly frail. He stumbled, falling heavily onto one knee. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his face twisted into a grimace of pure exertion as he squeezed his eyes shut.

  Panic flared in me. I scrambled up to my hands and knees. “Corbin? Are you—”

  Before I could finish, the mage threw his head back and burst into booming laughter.

  “What absolute, sick, twisted shit…” he laughed, shaking his head wildly, his breath pluming in the air. “Nobody is going to believe this. Nobody. Boy, oh boy, kid. It really never gets boring around you, does it?”

  I stared at him, unable to read his expression. It was a chaotic mix of profound relief, sheer disbelief, and a morbid sense of entertainment.

  Corbin’s laughter finally subsided into a heavy sigh. He pushed himself up with a groan. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here before I actually shit myself.”

  With an incredulous shake of his head, he turned and started trudging toward the forest path that led back to the Clayborne farm. I cast one last, deeply uneasy glance at the yawning black hole of the mine entrance, then scrambled up and ran after him.

  Whatever was in there, it was powerful enough to put Corbin on maximum alert. That realization did absolutely nothing to boost my confidence for our return.

  By the time the familiar silhouette of the Clayborne farm came into view, Corbin and I were practically crawling. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. I was so drained I feared my legs would buckle. Even Corbin was dragging his boots through the grass.

  Only a few meters separated us from the edge of the forest and the safety of the farmyard. I reached out to push aside a pine branch.

  Suddenly, a gigantic, dark shape blocked my path, rising from the shadows.

  A yelp of pure terror escaped my throat. I stumbled backward, tangling my legs, and fell hard onto my ass. Panic overrode my fatigue. I threw my hands up, desperately trying to scrape together whatever mana I had left.

  “Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you.”

  The voice was deep, rumbling, and entirely human. A massive, calloused hand hung in the air right in front of my face.

  Otis.

  I let out a shaky breath that was half a sob, letting my arms drop. I flopped backward onto the forest floor, staring up at the grey sky.

  “Gods above, you scared the absolute shit out of me…” I wheezed, lacking the energy to even sound properly angry.

  With the last reserves of my strength, I sat up and weakly grabbed Otis’s offered hand. He hoisted me to my feet with terrifying ease.

  “Just… just make sure Corbin and I get into a bed somehow, yeah? Thanks…” I mumbled, swaying on my feet as I tried to walk past him.

  “Yes, My Lord!” I heard him say from behind me, his tone thick with amusement.

  Before I could complain about the title, his thick arm wrapped around my waist. He hoisted me up effortlessly, tucking me under his arm like a sack of potatoes. Honestly? I was so unbelievably wrecked that I didn't even care. I was profoundly grateful.

  Corbin managed to stagger into the house under his own power. As I bounced gently against Otis’s side, I realized my respect for the usually carefree mage had grown immensely today. He might act like an irresponsible scoundrel most of the time, but when the darkness looked back, I could rely on him.

  That thought was quickly drowned out by the rising tide of exhaustion. The warmth of the farmhouse hit me as Otis carried me inside. My eyelids felt like lead, sliding shut against my will.

  The very last thing I registered before the darkness took me completely was the sensation of being lowered gently onto a soft, warm mattress.