The instant the ship's defensive systems deactivated, a palpable shift in the surrounding atmosphere washed over the entire group.
The elents, which had seemingly waged war against them—oppressing their bodies and inducing nausea—suddenly retreated, granting them much-needed respite.
Simultaneously, the dense mana enveloping them maintained its potency, but no longer exuded an aura of nace. In fact, they all sensed an opportunity to finally absorb this precious ethereal energy into their souls without courting unnecessary peril.
Vicente, particularly attuned to this change, seized the mont and imdiately began to cultivate. He ceased his efforts to aid his companions, allowing his own defenses to lower in the process.
With eyes closed, he took stock of his body's current state, realizing with a jolt how precariously close to death he had teetered. His soul, once an impenetrable fortress, now resembled little more than a gossar veil of transparent glass—tattered and fragile.
Though he wasn't crippled or afflicted with life-threatening injuries, his entire spiritual essence had been so severely depleted that he was certain another day under the Fury of the Stars' onslaught would have proven fatal.
His muscles had atrophied to an alarming degree, leaving his bones feeling like desiccated twigs, brittle and susceptible to the slightest pressure.
Yet, against all odds, he clung to life. Free from mortal wounds or lasting damage, Vicente began absorbing the ambient mana. As the ethereal energy suffused his being, he felt his strength regenerating at an exponential rate, a newfound vitality coursing through his veins.
Vicente's crewmates found themselves in similar straits, their conditions varying only in intensity. So, blessed with naturally hardier constitutions, appeared less scrawny than Vicente. Others, possessing spiritual advantages, seed physically more depleted but maintained a stronger spiritual resilience.
Larissa, previously the most vulnerable mber of the group, had borne the brunt of the ordeal. Yet, to Vicente's relief, she still clung to life when he last checked on her monts ago.
Following Vicente's lead, Larissa began cultivating the ambient neutral mana. To her astonishnt, she experienced an unprecedented ease in absorbing the ethereal essence, as if her very being had beco a conduit for the energy.
'What's happening?' she marveled internally. Turning her awareness inward, Larissa witnessed a profound transformation unfolding within her magical core. One of her pentagrams, the mystical constructs that ford the foundation of her power, was undergoing a tamorphosis!
Vicente, however, sensed no such dramatic change within himself. While he noticed additional violet lines materializing on his indigo pentagrams, his current condition evidently fell short of triggering a qualitative leap in power.
Vicente felt his soul expanding, first regaining its previous robust state before swelling to encompass a new, greater volu. His aura, pulsing outward from his being, subtly warped the surrounding space. Non-tallic objects in the vicinity gained tallic properties and levitated!
The crew mbers, each taking advantage of this mont to bolster their strength and recover, beca aware of Vicente's extraordinary situation. Several of them snapped their eyes open, their gazes converging on the command chair where he sat in the ship's control room.
The crew remained steadfast in their positions, securely fastened by their seatbelts—a stark reminder of the catastrophic event they had just endured.
Rex, sensing the imminent change, extricated himself from Larissa's embrace and focused intently on his master. The Flaming Lion could feel the transformation Vicente was about to undergo.
A broad grin spread across Rex's muzzle, replacing the queasy expression that had marred his features re minutes ago.
As Vicente's aura expanded, he felt his body undergoing a remarkable tamorphosis. Atrophied muscles regenerated, brittle bones fortified, and his sensory perception sharpened to unprecedented levels.
'The 8th stage! I've finally reached the 8th stage!' Vicente exulted internally. He could feel his progress towards the Grand Magus stage crystallizing.
Vicente's mood soared, the harrowing ordeal they had just survived forgotten as he reveled in his achievent. Just over six years after his arrival in Anicane, he had attained the legendary 8th stage!
His soul solidified at the 1-Star level of the Grand Magus stage, while his physique transford into a version of himself that was more robust, powerful, agile, and responsive than he had ever dared imagine.
In that mont, Vicente was certain that if he were to face the Fury of the Stars again, he would not only fare better but also be able to offer enhanced protection to his companions.
Yet, this was not the entire extent of his advancent. Even as he sat in his command chair, Vicente sensed he stood on the precipice of another qualitative breakthrough—the addition of his first violet essence!
'Once I absorb my next pentagrams, I'll have the opportunity to acquire the first violet essences of my powers,' Vicente mused, his fists clenching reflexively.
With violet pentagrams, he would ascend to a level attainable only by Anicane's elite, centing his status as a true expert. Perhaps then he could finally encounter beings willing to discuss the enigmatic Nine Paths with him!
The thought buoyed his spirits; perhaps the gulf between him and his won wasn't as vast as it had once seed.
'Now you must seek out violet essences,' a voice resonated in Vicente's mind, drawing his attention to the Throne of Darkness and Light.
'Isn't that a bit much?' Vicente questioned internally.
'Not at all. Absorb an indigo essence in your alternate magical form, and that should suffice to elevate one of your pentagrams to the violet grade. When my ti cos, you'll be prepared,' the Throne's consciousness replied dryly.
'You're a real Grand Magus now. Your prowess as an Eighth Class Realm Sorcerer will be substantially enhanced, making it entirely feasible for you to achieve what I envision.'
Vicente pondered this, agreeing as he found himself unable to quell his excitent about reaching the pinnacle of pentagram quality.
'But proceed at your own pace,' the Throne added, concluding its counsel. 'Amae is not the place to discover my pentagram. Explore other islands—preferably a location highly compatible with my nature.'
As Vicente's power grew, the Throne seed to gain a deeper understanding of the world around them. Vicente had long since recognized this and didn't find its comnt strange. He vowed to do his utmost, acknowledging that it would be a gradual process.
The Throne, however, showed no signs of impatience. Progress in the 8th stage was expected to be even more lengthy than in the 7th, affording them ample ti to journey to Amae, settle their affairs, and move forward.
With this tacit agreent in place, Vicente redirected his gaze to his ship, observing his companions as they continued their post-calamity ascension.
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