The Glitched Mage-Chapter 105: Losing Control Final Part

The battlefield reformed.

Riven exhaled, his breath steady, his muscles thrumming with tension as the weight of divine energy pressed down on him once more. The air between him and Cassiel crackled with opposing forces—golden light radiating from the Paladin like a sun, abyssal darkness coiling around Riven like living shadows.

This time, he wasn't here to endure.

This time, he wasn't here to learn.

This time, he was here to win.

Cassiel met his gaze, his stance unshaken. There was no arrogance in his expression, no mockery—only unwavering confidence, the kind that came from absolute certainty in his own strength. "You're persistent," he mused. "But persistence alone won't close the gap between us."

Riven smirked. "I'm not here to close the gap." His abyssal flames flared, devouring the ground beneath him. "I'm here to erase it."

Cassiel's eyes narrowed.

And then they moved.

The battlefield exploded.

Cassiel lunged, his golden blade cutting through the air like a streak of pure light. Riven reacted instantly, his body flickering as Phantom Step activated, his form twisting through the battlefield in erratic bursts. Divine arcs of energy slashed through the space he had occupied moments before, carving molten scars into the obsidian ground.

But Riven was already countering.

He wove through the divine onslaught, his Crimson Mirage igniting—dozens of heat-induced afterimages scattering in every direction. Cassiel's golden gaze flickered, analyzing, discerning the fakes from the real—

Too late.

Riven struck from his blind spot.

Abyssal fire roared down his blade as he drove it toward Cassiel's ribs. At the last second, Cassiel pivoted, his sword flashing to meet the strike.

The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the battlefield.

For the first time, Riven didn't stagger back.

He held firm.

Cassiel's eyes flickered with something almost like surprise.

Then divine light surged from his form, his power increasing again. He pressed forward, his strikes turning relentless, hammering down with the sheer, oppressive force of a being bathed in golden radiance.

But Riven didn't retreat.

He adapted.

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Each time their swords clashed, Riven siphoned a sliver of divine energy. At first, it was small—too little to change the course of battle. But as the fight wore on, as Cassiel poured more of his divine power into his attacks, Riven fed.

The Abyss inside him drank.

The golden light around Cassiel's sword flickered.

He noticed.

His blade swung down, golden energy coiling around the edge, a strike meant to end the fight.

Riven let it come.

He didn't block.

He opened himself fully to the Abyss.

The moment the divine strike made contact, Riven's abyssal flames didn't resist.

They devoured.

Cassiel's power, once untouchable, was swallowed whole. The golden arc of his blade dimmed as it connected with Riven's shoulder—by the time it cut through, the energy had already been corrupted, turned to nothing but fading embers.

Cassiel's stance faltered.

Riven didn't hesitate.

His Scorching Chains lashed out—this time, when they wrapped around Cassiel's arm, the divine light didn't burn through them instantly. The abyss had already begun to take root.

Cassiel's golden aura flickered again.

Riven struck.

His sword cut deep into Cassiel's side, abyssal fire sinking into his flesh—not just burning, but consuming. Divine energy poured from the wound, but instead of healing—

It was pulled into Riven.

Cassiel's breath hitched.

His body weakened.

Riven could feel it now—the divine energy trying to resist, to purify, but the Abyss wouldn't let go. It was hunger itself, twisting, corrupting, claiming what it desired.

For the first time, Cassiel's expression changed.

Shock.

Disbelief.

"You…" His voice was tight, his grip on his sword faltering. "You're… consuming it?"

Riven grinned, baring his teeth. "Looks like it."

Cassiel tried to push back—his blade swung, divine energy surging—but it was slower. Weaker.

Riven dodged with ease, his Phantom Step taking him to Cassiel's flank before the Paladin could even track his movement.

Riven drove his sword into Cassiel's back.

Abyssal fire surged, curling through the divine light, tearing through it like ink devouring gold. Cassiel choked, his body trembling as his very essence was siphoned from him, his divine mana unraveling, being pulled into the abyss.

It was done.

Cassiel fell.

Riven straightened, hands trembling slightly as the last of the golden light dimmed from his opponent's form. His body twitched from the sheer magnitude of what he had just absorbed, his mana heart pounding erratically.

The divine energy inside him raged—wild, untamed, trying to reject its new vessel. His abyssal mana clashed against it, a storm of opposing forces tearing through his veins.

He clenched his jaw.

For a moment, he felt like he was going to burst apart, his body unable to contain both divine and abyssal forces at once.

The Abyss inside him shifted, no longer resisting the divine energy but twisting around it, devouring it, molding it into something else entirely. The golden light that had once burned so fiercely dimmed, its purity unraveling, drawn into the abyss like a dying ember swallowed by the void. Where there had once been rejection, there was now consumption, a seamless, terrifying transformation.

Riven inhaled sharply as the last remnants of divine energy were corrupted, bent to his will, reshaped into something darker. His abyssal mana pulsed in response, no longer fighting the foreign power but claiming it, turning it into dark mana. His body trembled, his veins burning with a sensation that was neither pain nor pleasure, but something far deeper—evolution.

And then, he laughed.

It was low, edged with dark amusement, the sound vibrating through the empty battlefield. The irony was almost poetic. Even the most sacred forces, the light so many clung to, could be twisted. Even the holiest of warriors could be corrupted. In the end, there was no such thing as true purity in this world.

The Abyss took everything.

Riven exhaled slowly as the battlefield began to dissolve around him, the illusion fading with his victory. But this was no ordinary win. This was something far more dangerous than just another conquest.

This was proof.

He could devour divine power.

He could turn light into darkness.

And the Paladins?

They wouldn't stand a chance.

A familiar chime echoed through the fading battlefield, and Riven's vision flickered with a sudden notification.

[[ System Alert: Due to the absorption of an extreme energy source, the Created Training Space will be temporarily disabled for recalibration and power restoration. Estimated time until reactivation: 2 months. ]]

Riven exhaled as the last remnants of the battlefield dissipated into nothing. So even the system had limits. He had pushed it too far, siphoning an unprecedented amount of divine mana. He should have expected it—the sheer scale of the battle, the raw clash of divinity and abyssal energy, had shaken the very foundation of his simulated training space.

Fine. He had gotten what he came for.

Another notification flickered into his vision.

[[ Mana Core Capacity Reached. Advancement to Fourth Circle Available. ]]

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Riven's lips.

Finally.

The battle against Cassiel had not just been a test of his abilities—it had been a threshold. Every ounce of divine mana he had devoured had pushed him to his limits, forcing his mana heart to expand, to evolve. And now, he was ready to break through once more.

He clenched his fist, feeling the sheer weight of mana coursing through his body, stronger than ever. The Fourth Circle wasn't just an incremental boost—it was a leap. Each new ring added layers of mana compression, refining his reserves, sharpening his control.

Turning toward the cave's entrance, Riven strode forward, his boots crunching against scorched stone. The volcanic air outside still hummed with fire mana, thick and oppressive, but compared to the divine pressure he had just endured, it was nothing.

Nyx was waiting near the entrance, her arms crossed, her sharp gaze flicking to him the moment he emerged. She scanned him, her expression unreadable, but he caught the subtle way her eyes narrowed—taking in the faint flickers of golden energy still clashing with the abyss inside him.

"You're still radiating traces of divine mana," she noted, voice even.

Riven smirked. "Can't get rid of it that easily." He flexed his fingers, letting a tendril of abyssal fire coil around his hand, watching as the last traces of golden light faded into the darkness. "But it doesn't matter. It's mine now."

Nyx exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "You really went through with it, huh?"

"I did," he confirmed.

She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "I won't pretend to understand how you're still standing, but I assume this means you're done here?"

Riven tilted his head slightly, feeling the weight of power thrumming in his core, his mana heart pulsing with the promise of ascension. "Yes. It's finally time to climb the ranks—then we can leave this wretched place for good."

"Finally," Nyx drawled, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "Because I'm tired of this damned academy, and I miss Vera's mead more than I care to admit. First stop when we get home."

Riven chuckled, shaking his head as they began making their way toward the Second-Year Marketplace. But beneath the amusement, there was something else—a quiet, lingering relief at Nyx's words.

Home.

A place where he wasn't watched, where he didn't have to constantly play a role. A place where they were waiting for him—his people, his kingdom.

A place where he could finally stop pretending.

His gaze darkened, anticipation flickering in his blue eyes as the towering structure of the Power Chart came into view.

Let's make these fights quick.