The Wizard of Dawn.
The Sovereign of the Battlefield.
The Forerunner.
The Greatest Wizard in History.
The Blessed of Mana.
Gaon, the 8th Circle Archwizard, bore countless titles, each a testament to his unparalleled mastery.
Yet now, he stood on the precipice of a challenge that would define his life: the ascension to the 9th Circle.
A long, heavy breath escaped Gaon’s lips as he surveyed his surroundings.
‘Everything is ready…’
The path to the 9th Circle was not complex in theory.
Within Gaon’s heart pulsed eight radiant circles of mana, each a monument to his power.
All he needed was to forge one more—a single, elusive circle to crown his ascent.
For two years, he had prepared meticulously, leaving nothing to chance.
‘Can I do this?’
His preparations were flawless.
Yet perfection in preparation did not guarantee success.
The odds of failure loomed far greater than those of triumph.
Still, retreat was not an option.
For the sake of the 9th Circle, Gaon had relinquished everything—his claim to the emperor’s throne, passed to his younger brother; his position as master of the mage tower, yielded to a friend; even love itself, forsaken in pursuit of magic.
Every sacrifice had led him to this moment.
To abandon the 9th Circle now would be to deny his very existence.
At that moment, a voice broke the silence.
“Are you ready to begin?”
Beside him stood a golden-haired man, Ferbeng, Gaon’s mentor and the revered leader of the Gold Dragon Clan.
“Yes, I’m ready to start,” Gaon replied, his voice steady with resolve.
“Then I wish you success,” Ferbeng said with a warm smile before stepping back, giving Gaon the space to work his magic.
Gaon placed a supreme-grade mana stone at the center of the intricate magic circle he had crafted.
Swish!
The moment the stone touched the circle, mana poured forth, seeping into the arcane patterns.
The circle hummed to life, its lines glowing with ethereal light.
It began to draw in the mana stone’s energy, amplifying it before releasing it back into the air in a radiant surge.
Satisfied that the circle was functioning perfectly, Gaon closed his eyes.
He turned his focus inward, where the eight circles within his heart pulsed with power.
Slowly, deliberately, he set them spinning, each one activating in a cascade of energy.
His throat tightened as he swallowed hard.
Now, it was time to forge the ninth circle.
Gaon drew in the mana radiating from the circle, channeling it toward the creation of his final ring.
The process began smoothly—10% complete.
Then, without warning, the output of his first circle surged dramatically.
A broad smile spread across Gaon’s face.
But the triumph was fleeting.
As the ninth circle reached 20% completion, his smile vanished.
The second circle’s output spiked, and not alone—the first circle, already amplified, surged even higher, its power now exceeding its initial boost.
‘No… could it be?’
Gaon swallowed again, a chilling realization dawning.
If the third circle’s output increased, and the first and second followed suit, growing even stronger… and if that pattern continued unchecked…
‘Can I withstand it?’
For now, he could endure.
But if the output kept escalating, it would overwhelm him.
As the ninth circle reached 35% completion, his fears were confirmed.
The third circle flared, and as expected, the first and second circles surged in tandem, their combined power growing exponentially.
Gaon’s mind raced.
Should he stop now, while he still could?
‘No. There won’t be another chance.’
The materials were not the issue—he could gather them again.
The true problem was time.
Halting the process now would overload his body, and recovering from such strain would take years.
Gaon had already lived a long life.
By the time he recovered, his lifespan would be nearly spent.
His body, already struggling, would only weaken further with age.
Could it endure another attempt?
No.
It could not.
This was his final opportunity.
When the ninth circle reached 50% completion, the fourth circle surged.
Predictably, the first, second, and third followed, their outputs swelling to staggering heights.
‘Haa…’
Gaon exhaled softly, the weight of the moment pressing against his chest.
The power coursing through him was immense—almost too much, even for him.
And yet, half the circle remained unfinished.
Still, he could not give up.
Gritting his teeth, Gaon pressed on.
At 60% completion, the fifth circle roared to life, and the lower circles amplified in turn, their combined force now far greater than before.
In that moment, Gaon understood.
‘It’s impossible.’
Not because he lacked the knowledge to complete the ninth circle, but because his body could not withstand its power.
Even if he succeeded, the circle would collapse, unable to be contained.
A 9th Circle explosion was no trifling matter—it would not merely destroy his body; it would obliterate him entirely.
‘Haa…’
With a heavy sigh, Gaon halted the process.
Slowly, he stilled the spinning of his circles.
The nascent ninth circle, unable to maintain its form, began to dissolve into nothingness.
When Gaon opened his eyes, his face was etched with bitter resignation.
‘At least I’ve learned something.’
Though he had failed, the attempt was not without gain.
He had uncovered a crucial truth: no ordinary human body could withstand the 9th Circle.
It wasn’t a matter of magical talent.
No matter how gifted, without a physique capable of enduring the circle’s output, ascension was impossible.
‘It would take a body at least as strong as a Swordmaster’s.’
Having felt the overwhelming output firsthand, Gaon was certain.
Only a body tempered to the level of a Swordmaster could hope to contain such power.
But time was his enemy.
Train his body now?
It was far too late.
Age had already taken its toll.
‘If only I’d trained earlier…’
Throughout his life, Gaon had crossed paths with countless Swordmasters.
Through battles fought for survival or bonds of deep friendship, he had learned their sword techniques and even their methods of mana manipulation.
But he had never trained in them.
Every moment had been devoted to magic, the pursuit he deemed most worthy.
At that moment, Ferbeng approached from where he had been observing.
His expression was tinged with regret as he spoke.
“You failed.”
“Yes,” Gaon replied, his voice heavy with bitterness.
“What went wrong?” Ferbeng asked.
He had been certain Gaon would succeed.
Gaon’s magical talent surpassed even that of dragons, a feat almost unimaginable.
What could have stopped him from forging the ninth circle?
“My body,” Gaon said simply.
“Your body?”
“Yes. It couldn’t withstand the output of the circles.”
“Oh…” Ferbeng let out a soft sigh, the pieces falling into place.
It all made sense now—why dragons, with their inferior talent, could forge the ninth circle with ease, and why no human had ever achieved it in all of history.
“I have one request,” Gaon said, his voice firm despite his defeat.
“A request?” Ferbeng tilted his head, then frowned as a thought struck him.
“You mean the Time Reversal Magic Circle?”
The Time Reversal Magic Circle—a creation of Gaon’s that had shocked even Ferbeng with its audacity.
He knew what Gaon was asking: to assist in activating the circle, to send him back in time to start anew.
“Yes,” Gaon confirmed.
“I intend to return to the past and begin again.”
“It’s only a theory,” Ferbeng warned.
“The chances of failure are high.”
The Time Reversal Magic Circle had never been tested. Its materials were rare, but the true hurdle was the immense output required to activate it—an output equivalent to an 11th Circle.
For Ferbeng, leader of the Gold Dragon Clan and an 11th Circle mage for over 500 years, this was not an issue.
“And if it fails…” Ferbeng continued, his voice heavy with concern.
Failure would not harm him.
The consequences would fall solely on Gaon, the circle’s anchor.
“I thought failure would only bring overload,” Gaon said, his tone grim.
“But it’s worse than that.”
Ferbeng’s expression shifted to one of confusion.
“I have five years left,” Gaon revealed.
Five years.
The words struck Ferbeng speechless.
“The Time Reversal Magic Circle is my only option now,” Gaon continued.
“Please, Master. I beg you.”
‘Haa…’
Ferbeng let out a quiet sigh.
After a long moment of contemplation, he spoke.
“Very well. I’ll help you. How could I refuse my only disciple?”
“Thank you,” Gaon said, a radiant smile breaking across his face.
Ferbeng returned a faint smile.
“How long will it take to prepare?”
“The materials are ready. The circle itself will take about six months.”
“Even with my help?”
“Even then. I must draw the circle myself to ensure its connection to me.”
Unlike other magic circles, the Time Reversal Circle dealt with the fabric of time itself.
Only Gaon, as its anchor, could inscribe it to forge the necessary bond.
“Understood,” Ferbeng said.
“You’ll set it up here?”
“If that’s alright.”
“I’ve already agreed to help. There’s no reason it wouldn’t be.”
With a wave of Ferbeng’s hand, every tree, rock, and obstacle within a 200-meter radius disintegrated into dust, leaving a vast, empty clearing.
“Is this enough space?”
“Yes. I’ll see you in six months.”
***
Six Months Later
Viard Forest
From high above, Ferbeng gazed down at the clearing below, where Gaon was putting the final touches on the Time Reversal Magic Circle.
The work was soon complete, and Gaon ascended to meet him in the air.
“Are you ready?” Ferbeng asked.
“Yes. Thank you, truly, Master.”
“No need for thanks. It’s what a master does. Still… it’s a pity this is the last we’ll see of each other.”
“I’ll find you again,” Gaon promised.
Ferbeng smiled softly. “I’ll hold you to that.”
After a brief exchange, they descended to the ground. Gaon took his place at the circle’s center, while Ferbeng positioned himself at its auxiliary point.
‘Haa…’
Gaon exhaled deeply and lay down on the ground, calming his mind.
“I’m ready,” he said.
“Then let’s begin,” Ferbeng replied.
He poured mana into the circle, and a soft hum filled the air.
Swish!
A white light bloomed within the circle, shifting rapidly to red, then yellow, then purple, cycling through colors in a mesmerizing dance.
Finally, it settled into a deep, all-consuming black, as if it could swallow the world itself.
At that moment, Gaon’s body began to change. His wrinkled skin grew taut and smooth.
His body was not merely rejuvenating—it was regressing, returning to a younger state.
‘It’s working.’
The eight circles in his heart, the culmination of decades of effort, began to vanish one by one.
First, the 8th Circle dissolved, then the 7th, followed by the 6th and 5th.
With each loss, Gaon recalled the years of toil they represented.
When the 3rd Circle faded, he steeled himself.
Only two remained—the 2nd and 1st.
Once they were gone, he would be thrust back into the past.
But then—
Crack!
Gaon’s eyes snapped open in alarm.
Above the circle, the fabric of space split open, and a thick, malevolent magi—demonic energy—poured forth.
The magi spread outward, creeping toward the circle.
‘No!’
The circle had been crafted with meticulous precision.
If the magi interfered, everything could unravel.
‘Damn those demons! Why now, of all times?’
He was already at the 2nd Circle stage of regression.
Stopping now wouldn’t restore his 8th Circle power.
“Gaon! Focus!” Ferbeng’s voice cut through his panic.
Snapping back to attention, Gaon steadied his mind.
“This is a blessing in disguise,” Ferbeng continued.
“You’ve learned of the demon invasion. When you return to the past, prepare for it.”
As Ferbeng spoke, the 2nd Circle vanished.
Only the 1st remained.
One more, and Gaon would be sent back.
Swish!
But then, the magi reached the circle.
The array flared white, its structure compromised.
A blinding radiance erupted, enveloping Gaon.
‘What’s happening?’
This was uncharted territory, beyond any calculation.
One thing was certain: he would not return to the time he intended.
Worse, he might not survive at all.
Gaon watched the unfolding chaos with a heart full of dread.
The radiance faded.
Cautiously, Gaon scanned his surroundings.
‘Viard Forest?’
It was indeed the same forest where he had activated the circle.
But something was wrong.
‘Why is there magi here?’
Magi and mana coexisted in the air—an impossibility in the past he knew.
This was not the past.
His mind raced, and the answer struck him like a bolt.
‘The future?’
Dang cooked, I wonder if his master is still around
I don’t know how that signifies the future