It had been two weeks since Vastarael finally cracked the code.
The entire workshop now looked like a chaotic explosion of sapphire light, rune-dusted papers and scribbled notes strewn about haphazardly.
For the past 20 days, (ten days make a week in Spheraphase) he'd been working non-stop with zero sleep, eating only the occasional potato-laden stew, and staring with insane focus at the massive circle he'd drawn in midair.
He'd spent those days refining his approach, taking all the pieces of the puzzle and smushing them together into something new. But now, after endless trials, failures, and near-insanity, it was finally done.
Vastarael stood over the colossal sapphire mystic circle, the glow of it bathing him in an otherworldly light. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, and his face... well, it looked like a person who had spent 43 days straight staring at runes and scribbling on every inch of space available.
But despite all that, his expression was one of triumph. There was an unmistakable gleam in his eye as he admired the fruits of his madness.
The circle stretched out in front of him like a map to a new world, its central sapphire rune glowing with incredible power. It was gigantic. Surrounding the central rune were eight smaller mystic circles, each swirling in two directions, clockwise and counterclockwise. Each of these secondary circles had eight to nine concentric circles, intricately drawn with runes that seemed to vibrate with energy, radiating out from the center.
Vastarael took a step closer to the center, eyes tracing the energy flow. The entire circle hummed with power, vibrating through the air like a tuning fork struck by the hand of the universe itself.
For the first time in history, in the history of Spheraphase, someone had created a true, working Control Circle of this magnitude.
It worked. It actually worked.
He had done the impossible.
He'd spent the past 43 days of his life, no sleep, no rest, no real food, fighting against his own sanity, battling the urge to just give up, to throw his hands up and say,
"This is too much! I'm done!" But he hadn't.
He hadn't given up and now, he was staring at the first true Control Circle in Spheraphase. And it was his. His circle. His achievement.
If a normal mage saw it, they would see it as a code only he could decipher. He made it for himself and himself only, like a secret only he could unravel.
Vastarael gave a tired, wide grin that could only come from someone who had just barely avoided the edge of complete collapse.
"Well, would you look at that," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I guess I really am a genius."
He chuckled, though the sound was weak and hollow from exhaustion. He could feel the weight of the last few weeks pressing on him, his body craving rest, his mind on the verge of shutting down completely. His limbs were heavy, his eyelids drooping but for a moment, just a moment, he stood tall, taking in the glory of his achievement.
He raised his hands up as if absorbing the glory of his work.
"Gods, I'm going to sleep for a week."
He didn't even get the chance to finish his thought before his knees buckled under him. His body, deprived of sleep for over a month, finally gave up the fight. His legs collapsed and with a heavy thud, he dropped to the ground beside the completed circle, utterly spent.
His vision blurred, but before he drifted off, he managed to let out one last, satisfied sigh.
"Well... I did it... I made... a circle..."
And with that, Vastarael was out.
He collapsed right there, on the cold workshop floor, with nothing but the soft, hum of the sapphire mystic circle to lull him into unconsciousness. The room seemed to echo with a final, triumphant note, as if the circle itself was congratulating him for his perseverance.
°°°°°°°
Ten days.
Ten days of blissful, dreamless sleep. Vastarael had no idea how long he'd been out. When he finally woke up, it felt like he'd been pulled from a different world entirely.
His mind was... clearer than it had been in weeks, maybe even months. No more disembodied voices of stew bowls or talking potatoes. No more hallucinations. No more insane ramblings. Just silence. Sweet, peaceful silence.
The strange information poured in his mind that he has slept for ten days. He had spent 53 days in the workshop.
Groaning, he slowly sat up, his body protesting the movement. His limbs were stiff, his muscles sore from days of motionless sleep, but damn did he feel alive. The world around him looked strangely normal.
First things first, though.
"Ugh... I'm starving," he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he stood up. His stomach growled loudly, a constant reminder that he hadn't had a proper meal in over ten days. It was time to fix that. With a quick motion, he drew a Clean Rune, letting it pulse with energy as it enveloped him. It wasn't a full-on scrub down or anything; it was just a refresh. He didn't need a full bath, not with how much energy he'd just spent sleeping.
The Clean Rune did its job in a second. With that out of the way, he moved over to his trusty, never-ending source of nourishment: the cursed potato and meat curry stew. That bowl... that infuriating, but incredibly convenient, bowl.
He ladled a good amount into his sapphire bowl, savoring the familiar warmth of the stew. It was always perfect, always the right temperature, always the right flavor, no matter how many times he ate it. He sighed happily, spooning the food into his mouth.
And then his eyes went wide.
A hologram was right in front of him, floating in the air like it had always belonged there. It flickered once and then stabilized, showing him a message he could hardly believe.
[Congratulations! You have reached the Third Star Rank in Circlecraft!]
He froze.
His spoon hung in the air mid-bite. For a moment, he just stared at it, too stunned to even blink. The words swam before his eyes, slowly sinking in. He had done it. He had actually done it.
"Third Star…"
He whispered the words as if saying them too loudly would make them disappear. It didn't make sense.
He had been working at this for so long, struggling, pulling himself apart just to figure out one damn circle. The sleepless nights, the trials, the endless failures. And now... now he was staring at something more important than any of it.
It wasn't just about the Control Circle. It wasn't just about the damn stew. It was everything he had ever worked for. He had finally done it.
He was a Third Star Circlecraft Mage.
"Gods... I actually did it," he whispered again, his voice cracking. He put down the spoon, feeling something unexpected rising in his chest. His vision blurred, but it wasn't from exhaustion anymore.
It was tears.
Tears started to spill down his face. He couldn't stop it. He had worked so damn hard for this and here it was. He had finally achieved it. All the suffering, all the failure, all the insanity...it had led to this moment. His mind kept telling him that it was just a rank, just a title, but damn it—this was everything. This was his reward for the suffering. His "Suffering Before Reward," as it had been written in his Destiny.
Vastarael wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming.
The hologram hovered before him, flashing with a soft blue glow and he looked at it through the blur of his tears. He could barely see straight but somehow it didn't matter. The emotion was overwhelming. He had made history.
He had created the first Control Circle. No one had ever done it before. Not even his Eleventh Star Mage of a father has done it.
But he made it.
"Gods, I'm really... I'm really a Third Star..."
His fingers trembled as he picked up the bowl again, scooping another bite of stew into his mouth but this time, he barely noticed the taste. He was too busy trying to control the overwhelming flood of emotions that had completely taken over.
He was a Third Star Circlecraft Mage. And everything, every damn thing he had been through, had led to this. It was his foundation now. His beginning. Everything was going to change.
With a final, shaky breath, Vastarael let himself cry, letting the relief and the weight of his accomplishment wash over him. The stew sat forgotten in his lap as he looked up at the hologram again, tears rolling down his face.
"I did it. I really did it,".
He let out a breathy laugh, wiping at his eyes again. He didn't care anymore. The stew could wait. The circle could wait.
For now, he just needed to feel this and let himself feel the incredible joy of success.
After all, he had finally earned it.