Traebus moved with deliberate care as he centered the tiny sliver of Nekrium within the next iron ring he had prepared. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled. He had learned his lesson—this material did not tolerate mistakes.


    This ring had a clear purpose: a mana battery. If he wanted to wield magic at higher levels, he needed a buffer—a way to store excess energy so his own reserves weren’t drained dry every time he reached beyond his limits. The iron ring was designed to hold mana, to act as a reservoir, but the moment he added the Nekrium sliver, something unexpected happened.


    The ring redesigned itself.


    The iron twisted—not chaotically, but with purpose. The structure reinforced, becoming denser yet lighter, the inner runes shifting into perfected formations he hadn’t even considered. It was as if the Nekrium had understood what he wanted and had taken over, optimizing his work far beyond what he could have achieved alone.


    Traebus watched, awestruck, as the simple iron band became something far greater.


    Dusk, observing from the side, flicked a pulse of pure wonder into his mind. Not skepticism, not caution—just wonder.


    Traebus swallowed. "It’s… doing what I wanted. But only what I wanted." He turned the now-finished ring over in his hands. "It’s not adding anything extra. It’s not forcing changes I didn’t ask for. It’s just… helping me make it better."


    Sparky trilled in excitement, completely missing the gravity of the moment.


    Traebus almost laughed. For once, something had actually gone right. He hadn’t been blown across the room, the ring hadn’t fused to his soul, and—most importantly—his lab was still intact.


    He slid the ring onto his hand.


    The ring functioned exactly as intended—a battery, a storage unit for mana. It steadily refilled over time, drawing from the first iron ring he had crafted, the one designed to absorb and purify the primal mana suffusing the world around him. No longer did he have to strain himself pulling raw energy—now, he had a reservoir, one that worked seamlessly in tandem with his purifier ring, making the entire process feel effortless.


    For the first time in hours, Traebus let himself grin. "Well. That’s a nice change of pace."


    Dusk flicked a thought at him. For now.


    Feeling emboldened by his success and the newfound reservoir of mana at his disposal, Traebus decided to push his craft even further. If the iron rings could optimize his energy flow, why stop at just two? He needed versatility—rings that would allow him to manipulate the elements he relied on most. With a deep breath, he began work on five more rings, each dedicated to one of the fundamental forces he wielded most often: Earth, Fire, Water, Force, and Light.


    This time, with the iron’s increased stability, he could carve more intricate runes, refining his designs in ways that weren’t possible with his previous stone rings. Each one would be a focused conduit, enhancing his control over its respective element while minimizing mana strain. He deliberately avoided using Nekrium, recalling the sheer energy demands of the identification ring still fused to his skin. If just one of those had nearly drained him into oblivion, stacking more was a death sentence.


    With meticulous precision, he shaped the Earth Ring, embedding deep reinforcement runes to increase its ability to manipulate terrain. The moment it settled into form, he could already tell—this was far beyond what his old stone rings could manage. The same was true for the Fire Ring, its pathways attuned to heat and combustion, allowing for fine-tuned control instead of raw, inefficient bursts of flame.


    The Water Ring came next, its runes carefully designed to extract moisture from the air and direct it as needed. The Force Ring was a trickier endeavor, requiring complex layering of kinetic runes to prevent backlash, but once finished, it radiated a subtle hum of stored potential. Finally, the Light Ring, designed not just for illumination, but to focus and refine light itself, eliminating the all-too-familiar risk of accidental explosions.


    By the time he finished, the five rings gleamed in the dim light of his lab, practically humming with potential. He exhaled, exhausted but exhilarated. This was progress. This was control.


    Dusk flicked an impressed pulse his way, which, coming from him, was high praise.


    Sparky, however, had other ideas. The tiny lightning lizard hopped onto the table and immediately started batting at the Fire Ring like a toy.


    "Hey—HEY! No licking the magic!" Traebus swatted him away, scooping up the rings before Sparky could set anything on fire. "You set something ablaze again, I’m making you wear a non-conductive sweater."


    Sparky trilled indignantly but wisely backed off, flicking a mental image of himself heroically engulfed in flames, which Traebus promptly ignored.


    Dusk, meanwhile, peered at the rings, flicking a thought at Traebus. At least this time, you made something useful instead of another explosion.


    "Don’t jinx it," Traebus shot back, eyeing the rings warily. "We both know my luck has a personal vendetta against me."


    Dusk didn’t argue. He just exhaled, settling into his usual resigned patience.


    Traebus rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers as he stared at his newest creations. The Nekrium rings were still locked away, too dangerous to mess with just yet—but these? These he could use.


    For the first time in a long while, he felt ready.


    He turned the rings over in his hands, thinking. While having a full set of elemental rings was great, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He had already learned—the hard way—that anything constantly draining mana without control was a recipe for disaster.


    The last thing he needed was an always-active Fire Ring on his dominant hand, setting everything he touched on fire. No, that was not a scenario he was willing to experience.


    "Alright, no dumb decisions today," he muttered to himself, slipping the five new rings onto his other hand. This way, he could activate them intentionally instead of having them siphon his mana at all times.


    Dusk, watching him closely, flicked a pulse of relieved agreement. Finally, some caution.


    Sparky, however, sent a series of mental images, all of which involved fire, explosions, and possibly accidental arson.


    "Absolutely not," Traebus deadpanned. "I am not becoming a walking bonfire."


    Sparky trilled in disappointment, clearly having already envisioned some sort of flaming disaster scenario.


    Traebus sighed, flexing his fingers as he tested the rings'' weight. They felt comfortable, solid, balanced. For the first time, his magic felt organized, each element precisely tuned instead of the chaotic mess it had been before.


    "Now, let’s see if I can actually use these without immediately setting something on fire or getting flung across the room," he muttered.


    Dusk exhaled heavily. Doubtful.


    Traebus suddenly froze, his gaze snapping to Sparky. "Wait. How the hell do you know what a chalkboard is?"


    Sparky cocked his head and flicked an innocent mental image back at him—his previous vision of a tiny professor version of himself, complete with chalkboard, symbols, and dramatic lightning. He trilled smugly, his tail flicking like this was a completely normal thing for a lizard to understand.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Traebus turned to Dusk, demanding answers with a stare. "Explain. Now."


    Dusk let out a slow breath before sending a far more complex thought than usual. Our bond is two-way. We share ideas, instincts… and knowledge. The longer we are linked, the more our minds adapt to one another. I understand your concepts, and in turn, Sparky and I can reflect them back in ways that make sense to you.


    Traebus blinked. "Wait, wait, wait. You''re telling me that not only do you guys read my thoughts, but you actually learn from my knowledge base?"


    Dusk nodded. Yes. And you, in turn, have been influenced by ours. It is… complicated.


    He felt his brain physically shut down for a second. "So, what you’re saying is, I’m walking around with two magical, lizard-shaped study buddies downloading parts of my brain?"


    Sparky trilled in absolute delight and sent another image—this time of himself wearing glasses while pointing to a chalkboard filled with lightning bolts and arcane runes. He looked insufferably proud of himself.


    Traebus groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is, by far, the most complicated thing you’ve ever told me. And I still don’t know whether I should be horrified or impressed."


    Dusk flicked a mild pulse of amusement. Both.


    Traebus ignored him and straightened, rolling his shoulders before taking a deep breath. "Alright, let’s do this properly. Slow, careful, no unnecessary explosions."


    He started with the Earth Ring, curling his fingers and focusing his intent into the metal band. A subtle vibration pulsed through his hand as he reached out toward the stone floor. Carefully, he willed the earth to shift, and with a smooth, controlled motion, a small pillar of stone rose up before him. It responded instantly, moving with fluid precision, far more stable than his old stone-carved runes had ever allowed.


    "Alright, not bad," he mused, testing its flexibility by shaping the stone into a rough sphere before letting it sink back into the ground.


    Dusk watched with a neutral expression, flicking a thought at him. Try not to break the lab.


    Next, he activated the Fire Ring—carefully. A controlled ember flickered into existence above his palm, its edges crisp and steady, no wild bursts or unpredictable flare-ups. "Oh, that is so much better," he muttered, shaping the flame into a thin stream before dispersing it.


    Sparky, watching intently, flicked a mental image of himself engulfed in fire like some kind of elemental warlord.


    "Not happening, buddy," Traebus said flatly. "I don’t need a sentient fire hazard running around."


    Sparky trilled in extreme disappointment.


    Moving on, Traebus activated the Water Ring. Instantly, the humidity in the air coalesced into a shimmering droplet hovering over his palm. Unlike his previous attempts with water magic—where control had been iffy at best—this felt effortless. He shaped the droplet into a thin ribbon, twisting it around his fingers before letting it disperse harmlessly into the air.


    Dusk let out an impressed hum. Finally, no accidental flooding.


    "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Traebus muttered before turning his focus to the Force Ring. This one required a bit more focus—force magic had a habit of getting out of hand quickly. He extended his hand and willed a controlled push of kinetic energy toward a wooden crate across the room. Instead of launching it into the stratosphere like he might have done before, the box simply slid smoothly across the stone floor, stopping exactly where he had intended.


    "Now that is useful," he said with satisfaction.


    Finally, he tested the Light Ring. Instead of an explosion of brightness blinding everyone within a mile radius—as had happened in previous experiments—a soft, controlled glow emanated from the ring. The light followed his intent perfectly, brightening and dimming as needed.


    "No explosions!" Traebus grinned. "Dusk, are you seeing this? No explosions!"


    Dusk flicked a thought at him. Miracles happen.


    Sparky, now thoroughly invested, flicked an image of himself wearing all the rings at once, bathed in god-like power.


    Traebus snorted. "Yeah, that’s definitely not happening."


    He flexed his fingers, feeling in control for the first time in a long while. Each ring had functioned exactly as designed, without instability, without backlash, and without nearly killing him.


    For once, everything had gone according to plan.


    Traebus exhaled, stretching his fingers, feeling the steady hum of energy circulating through the rings on his hands. His reservoir ring was steadily filling, the purified mana flowing in at a controlled rate, restoring his reserves without any noticeable drain.


    A slow grin spread across his face.


    "Alright. That’s enough waiting. Time to test the Nekrium analysis ring."


    Dusk flicked an immediate pulse of disapproval, his frills flaring slightly. Do you really think that’s a good idea?


    Sparky, meanwhile, was already vibrating with anticipation, sending an enthusiastic mental image of Traebus getting blasted through the roof.


    Traebus shot him a glare. "That’s not going to happen."


    Dusk flicked another thought. It has literally happened before.


    "Yeah, well, I’ve got better control now," Traebus insisted, rolling his shoulders. "I just need to be smart about this."


    Silence.


    Dusk stared at him. Sparky trilled in open amusement.


    "Oh, shut up."


    Traebus took a slow breath, steadying himself. He needed to start simple. No ancient artifacts, no legendary metals—just a basic test. His gaze dropped to the stone floor beneath him. Harmless. Safe. Just rock.


    "Alright, let''s see what this thing can really do," he muttered, flexing his fingers. He focused on the stone beneath his feet and activated the Nekrium analysis ring.


    For a brief moment, nothing happened.


    Then, the world fractured into information.


    A tidal wave of data crashed into his mind—too much, too fast. The floor wasn’t just stone anymore. It was granite, a dense, durable composite of quartz, feldspar, and mica, formed over millennia under extreme pressure. But that was just the surface. His awareness plunged deeper, beyond sight, past the reinforced layers of magically compacted stone he had fused together when constructing the lab. He saw the atomic structure, the molecular bonds holding it all together, the residual traces of runic reinforcement he had left behind, the faintest whispers of primal energy seeping through the mineral veins.


    It was too much.


    Traebus staggered back, gasping, clutching at his head. His breath came in short bursts, his vision swimming. He had seen everything about the stone in less than a second, as if his mind had been shoved through a thousand books on geology, alchemy, and magical reinforcement all at once.


    Dusk’s frills flared in alarm as he flicked a sharp thought at him. That was supposed to be simple?


    Sparky, meanwhile, was vibrating with excitement, trilling wildly. He flicked a mental image of Traebus doing that to a living creature.


    "Oh, no," Traebus wheezed, still gripping his knees. "That is definitely not happening. I am not scanning myself with this thing. I’d probably just—" He mimed an explosion with his fingers. "—cease to exist."


    Dusk exhaled sharply. For once, a smart decision.


    "I mean… it worked, though!" Traebus pushed himself upright, wobbling slightly. "I got everything—structure, composition, magical properties—it’s like seeing the very foundation of reality."


    Sparky trilled, clearly unimpressed by his existential revelation, and flicked an image of himself standing atop a mountain of knowledge, surrounded by lightning and glory.


    Traebus gave him a flat look. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Big, powerful, very cool. But I nearly turned my brain into mush just looking at a rock. I need to be careful with this thing."


    Dusk sent a slow pulse of agreement, his frills settling slightly. Finally, something we both agree on.


    Traebus sighed, rubbing his temples. The power was unbelievable—but also terrifying. If this was what the Nekrium ring could do with a harmless floor, what would happen if he tried it on something alive? Or worse, something aware?


    For now, he needed to recover—and think—before testing anything else.


    As his breathing steadied, Traebus ran through the deluge of information still buzzing in his mind. He understood granite well enough—its composition of quartz, feldspar, and mica made sense from a geological standpoint. He had worked with stone for years, molding and shaping it magically, reinforcing it for strength. But the deeper layers of knowledge unsettled him.


    The concept of atomic structure—that was utterly foreign.


    He had never thought of materials as being composed of smaller units. He knew about density, weight, and how magic infused into different types of stone, but molecular bonds? Lattice formations? The very notion that the solid ground beneath him was made up of tiny, invisible particles bound together in intricate formations made his head spin. His mind supplied words like silica, feldspathic bonds, and crystalline matrices, but he had no idea where that knowledge had come from.


    "I shouldn’t know this," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I don’t even know what half of it means."


    Dusk flicked a pulse of agreement, watching him carefully. Your mind is not meant for this kind of knowledge.


    "Yeah, well, it’s in there now," Traebus muttered. "And it’s not leaving." He exhaled, thinking. "Alright. So, I think I just saw the fundamental nature of reality down to its smallest components, and I have zero clue how to even apply that information."


    Sparky, still vibrating with excitement, flicked a mental image of himself wearing a tiny scholar’s hat, standing in front of a chalkboard filled with arcane symbols and equations.


    "Oh, don’t you start," Traebus grumbled. "I am not a scholar. I hit things with magic until they work. This? This is something else entirely."


    Dusk settled beside him, his frills flicking up slightly. Then perhaps you should be cautious before using it again.


    Traebus snorted. "Oh, don’t worry. I am definitely not testing this on anything remotely alive." He hesitated. "...For now."


    Dusk stared at him.


    ""For now!" Traebus repeated defensively, holding up his hands like he wasn’t about to do something incredibly stupid. "I mean, I have to test it eventually! Just… maybe on something that won’t instantly vaporize my consciousness. Like, I dunno, a rock again. A less complicated rock. One without, I don’t know, an entire universe of secrets hiding inside it."


    Dusk’s frills twitched. Doubtful.


    Sparky, clearly ignoring the entire conversation, flicked an image of Traebus pointing the ring at himself like an idiot and spontaneously turning into a cloud of confused particles.


    "Oh, real funny, you little lightning menace," Traebus grumbled. "I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of not erasing myself from existence."


    Dusk exhaled sharply. That remains to be seen."