All Chapters of Transmigration Into A World With Manna: Chapter 341
- Chapter 350
375 chapters
Chapter 341: The Return
Caster arrived without light or sound. One moment, the outskirts of Rebillion City stood quiet beneath a low gray sky. The next, the air folded inward. Dust lifted off cracked pavement. Loose scrap rattled across the road. Then a body dropped into the middle of it.Caster hit the ground on one knee. Stone fractured beneath him in a tight ring. A pulse of mana rolled outward like a pressure wave. Windows along the abandoned warehouse block shuddered. A streetlamp bent, then snapped at its base. The sky above twisted.Clouds spun in place, dragged into a tight spiral. Blue-white threads of mana lashed downward, striking the ground around him. Each impact burned shallow lines into concrete and asphalt.Caster did not move. His coat smoked along the seams. Faint black lines crawled across his exposed skin, like veins filled with ash. When he exhaled, the breath came out cold and sharp, fogging the air.Another pulse rippled outward. People screamed. At the far end of the street, a deliv
Chapter 342
Caster entered Glassview through a service tunnel beneath the eastern scaffolds.The tunnel mouth hid behind layered ward plates and caution sigils. Construction crews passed above it without looking down. Their boots shook dust loose from the ceiling. It fell in thin sheets and settled on his shoulders.Caster walked straight through the inactive ward ring. The illusion sigil bent the light around him just enough to blur his face. His coat shifted to match the muted gray worn by junior academics and courier aides. A thin badge appeared at his collar, etched with a low-tier research crest. No one stopped him.The tunnel opened into a sublevel corridor beneath the old academic district. Glassview’s lower circles were still intact.The halls were narrow and reinforced with layered stone. Mana lines ran along the walls in exposed channels, patched in places where the Rift Event had torn through. Some glowed steady. Others flickered.Caster slowed his steps. Voices carried from ahead. “U
Chapter 343
Caster moved through the chamber like a shadow. The underground auction hall stretched wider than he expected. Rusted transit rails crisscrossed the floor. Lanterns hung low, throwing jagged pools of light and long black shadows. The air smelled of dust, burnt metal, and stale mana.People crowded around raised platforms. Cases of artifacts glimmered behind glass, each secured with multiple wards. The chatter was low, urgent, masked faces whispered numbers, tapped glowing slates, gestured with concealed hands.Caster’s eyes moved over the items. Some were ordinary relics. Others were familiar. He froze for a fraction of a second.A small, fractured sphere pulsed faintly behind a reinforced case. The aura around it was raw Skell energy, resonant, unstable. He recognized the pattern immediately. He had used that very sphere in the last stabilization attempt during the Rift Incident.Nearby, a thin steel rod, wrapped in protective sigils, hummed faintly. He had wielded it to bind rifts
Chapter 344
Caster moved through the crowded market district of Glassview before dawn. The streets smelled of damp stone and frying grain, and low-hanging lanterns flickered in the mist rising from the canals. Most stalls were closed, shutters down or patched with cloth, but some traders were already setting out rare items, mana conduits, broken foci, old research instruments.He walked lightly, coat collar raised, illusion sigil active. His steps were quiet on cobblestone and damp metal grates. He didn’t speak. He didn’t look up. Every few paces, he paused to scan shadows for movement, listening for whispers, the slightest unusual sound.A faint pulse drew his attention, subtle but distinct. Skell energy, muted, deliberately concealed, but alive. The signature matched the fragment he had taken from the auction.He ducked into a narrow side alley and slipped between two half-open shutters. Behind them, the faint glow of mana lanterns illuminated rows of shelves filled with miscellaneous relics,
Chapter 345
The Twin Moons Consortium headquarters rose from the center of the industrial ward like a sealed machine.Steel towers interlocked with reinforced stone. Mana conduits ran exposed along the outer walls, pulsing in steady intervals. Smoke drifted from hidden vents, thin and controlled. No waste. No excess. The building did not invite attention. It commanded it.Inside, the air was cool and dry. Floors were polished dark stone, etched with faint sigils that dampened stray mana. The lighting was soft and indirect, fed by hidden lantern arrays that cast no shadows unless something moved.Movement mattered here. A pair of guards stood at the inner doors of the executive hall. Their armor was matte black, trimmed with silver lines that formed suppression patterns. Neither spoke. Neither shifted as a tall man approached.Director Vorren walked with long, efficient strides. His coat was tailored, dark gray, reinforced at the seams. A thin data-slate rested in his hand. His eyes stayed forwa
Chapter 346
The Lime Division intake hall smelled of dust, ink, and old stone. Caster stood at the end of a short line, shoulders squared, hands folded behind his back. His coat was clean but plain. His hair was tied back. His face carried the careful adjustments of his illusion sigil, older lines at the eyes, a narrower jaw, and a faint scar along the left cheek.Dr. Alven Cray. The name rested lightly on his tongue. A brass placard hung above the counter: LOWER ACADEMIC REINSTATEMENT, SPECTRAL LIME DIVISION (PROVISIONAL)The word provisional had been etched deeper than the rest. A clerk behind the counter flipped through paper forms with slow, deliberate movements. She did not look up. “Next,” she said.Caster stepped forward. She slid a form across the counter without meeting his eyes. “Name.”“Dr. Alven Cray,” he said.She paused, then finally looked at him. Her gaze lingered a fraction too long. “Division?” she asked.“Applied Skell Containment,” Caster replied.Her brow twitched. “That di
Chapter 347
The vault door sealed behind Caster with a sound like stone grinding on bone.The noise faded, swallowed by the dark. For three breaths, nothing moved.Then the mana lamps along the walls flickered awake one by one, casting pale light across rows of metal shelves and sealed stone cabinets. Dust hung in the air, unmoving, as if the space itself resisted disturbance.Caster stood still. The vault felt smaller than he remembered. The ceiling pressed lower. The air carried a dry, metallic taste. Old wards lay embedded in the walls, stripped of polish, some cracked, some crudely reinforced with newer sigils that did not belong.He took one step forward. The floor sigil beneath his boot flared weakly, then dimmed. “Still recognizes me,” he murmured.He moved deeper. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, each marked with faded identifiers. Many had been disturbed. Some seals were broken. Others had been burned shut, edges blackened.Caster stopped at the first shelf. A stack of no
Chapter 348
The door sealed without sound. Stone slid into stone. Dust fell in a thin line across the floor. The last lantern above the stairwell dimmed and went dark.Caster stood still until the echo died. The underground library lay beneath the old academy, forgotten by decree and neglect. Rows of shelves cut through the chamber like ribs. Most were empty. Some held warped books wrapped in chain wire. Sigils burned low along the floor, not for light, but for silence.A figure waited at the long table near the center. Solon did not rise. He sat with his hands flat on the wood, fingers spread, as if feeling for tremors. His hair had thinned. Gray traced the edges. His robe hung looser than it once had. The academy ring still circled his finger, dulled from years without polish.Behind him stood Sikoa. Her mask was gone. Her hair was tied back. She wore a trader’s coat, patched and reinforced. One hand rested near her belt. The other hovered near Solon’s shoulder without touching him.Caster st
Chapter 349
Caster crouched over the low workbench in the sealed laboratory beneath the Lime archives. Lanterns hung from exposed iron beams, their light steady but faint, illuminating rows of glass vials, metal instruments, and carefully stacked notebooks. Each surface bore residue from past experiments, burn marks, faint mana traces, and the occasional smudge of a previous failure.He traced a finger along the edge of a polished vial. Inside, a thin liquid shimmered faintly, almost as if aware of his presence. The Skell essence pulsed in tandem with his heartbeat, restrained beneath multiple containment sigils he had carefully reinforced over hours.He set the vial down and scribbled notes on a thin slate. Symbols layered over older equations. Each line measured, precise, deliberate. He was refining his earlier theory, pushing beyond the flawed applications that had nearly destroyed him.Mana Baptism. The words burned themselves into the edges of his mind. A potion, a ritual, a process capa
Chapter 350
The air in the underground lab was thick with residual mana. Lanterns flickered, suspended from iron beams, their light uneven and wavering. Dust motes moved slowly through the shafts of illumination, but the shadows felt heavier, as if the walls themselves were absorbing sound.Caster crouched over the workbench, hands steady despite the tension threading through his veins. Several vials of Skell Dust sat in front of him, each labeled with careful precision. He had refined the measurements, controlled the doses. Each particle was deadly, but necessary.He inhaled sharply, traced the first line of a containment sigil over the largest vial, and whispered the calibration sequence. The dust pulsed inside the glass. Fine motes lifted, swirled, and shimmered like microstars, responding to his aura.Caster tipped the vial slightly, allowing a tiny fraction of the dust to fall onto the palm of his hand. The particles hovered, suspended by his Skell-tuned aura. A faint shimmer traced the