The moment the thought struck him, Lyn was completely immersed.

Guided by those strange specks of light, Lyn felt he could see intricate, wondrous lines—far more complex than the ones forming the seven special runes. They dazzled him, relentlessly draining his focus.

The longer he stared at the Meditation Chart on the dome, the more he sensed chaotic, disorderly shifts in the painting. It was like a starry sky churned by darkness.

But right after that thought, nausea surged through him. He snapped back to reality, yanking his mental energy away. With stiff effort, he tore his gaze from the dome and lowered his head.

That simple motion drained him utterly. Lyn’s eyes widened in disbelief.

A cold chill ran down his spine—he’d broken into a cold sweat without realizing it. Beyond physical exhaustion, the terrifying part was the drain on his mental energy…

The strain from that strange Meditation Chart exceeded the toll of activating runes multiple times in the stone chamber!

His body’s nauseous reaction had saved him. It jolted him awake just as his mental energy neared its limit. Had he kept staring, Lyn suspected he’d be completely drained.

Glancing at the wall clock, his expression shifted. The hands had moved half an hour.

“That brief daze… I sat here for thirty minutes?”

Lyn was stunned—and wary. He’d been utterly defenseless. If someone malicious had been nearby…

But dwelling on it now was pointless.

He shook his head, pulled out a scroll, and set up a trigger ward. Only then did he sit back to rest. His head throbbed painfully, yet his thoughts drifted back to the dome’s secret.

Undoubtedly, that pattern was a unique Meditation Technique.

The guiding lights came from the seven runes he’d touched in the stone chamber—likely keys to unlock this technique.

But unlocking it only granted access to view and learn. It didn’t mean mastery.

After half an hour, Lyn had gained nothing but exhaustion and emptiness.

Anyone would’ve thought he’d met a succubus in there.

Yet this first attempt sparked deep interest in him. Thick, burning curiosity.

No need to overthink it. Lyn knew his choice.

Whether due to its unusual form or sheer mystery, the system hadn’t rated its quality. Still, Lyn had his own judgment.

At worst, this Meditation Technique couldn’t be weaker than Angel’s Embrace.

He trusted his gut.

This was what he wanted.

With that settled, the golden stone slab on the table lost all appeal.

“Once my mana and stamina recover, I’ll try again.”

Rubbing his sore neck, Lyn hesitated briefly before steeling his resolve. His gaze drifted to the table.

Whoever left these items here, most Potions restored mental energy and mana—plus stamina tonics. Why wait?

He’d compensate later.

Lyn uncorked several Potions and gulped them down. He could spot poison easily, so he wasn’t worried. And no one could’ve planned this perfectly against him.

After finishing the Potions, he entered mana cultivation to absorb their power.

Their quality surprised him. In under ten minutes, he was refreshed. He looked up again at the dome’s blurry image.

Taking a deep breath, he channeled his mental energy into the patterns, sinking into meditation.

“Damn it.”

After a dull, flavorless tremor, Lyn forced himself out of the trance, fighting nausea. He checked the clock, gritted his teeth, and drank more Potions.

After two or three repeats, his mental energy and stamina felt ready to burst. His whole body ached like it might split apart.

When he finally stopped, his trembling hand reached for the last few Potions. He downed them, then collapsed onto his back to rest.

This time, he kept his eyes shut tight. One glance at the dome, and his focus would be hijacked again. He was at his limit—utterly spent.

Those last Potions were his reserve to make it back. And with each dose, their effect weakened. His body was maxed out, unable to absorb more.

Pushing further would be pure torture and waste.

As for gains… Lyn still felt his mind was empty.

Frustration flared. *Damn it. Should I bring a ladder next time and touch the murals?*

But even then, he couldn’t memorize them. He dropped the idea.

Minutes later, once he could move steadily, Lyn sat up. He eyed the stone slab and scroll on the table.

After a moment’s thought, he picked up a crystal-feather pen meant for engraving runes. He completed a small section of the Meditation Chart—left half-finished by another genius who’d reached this floor. He muttered about the messy handwriting, guessing some burly guy had copied it.

Those few strokes repaid the Potions. Lyn tossed the pen aside and headed for the stone door, ready to leave.

His thoughts drifted to Xing Luo. How were she and the other getting along? Probably fine.

Lyn didn’t notice the black cat silently watching him from the stone slab shelves.

When Lyn exited the Sage Tower, Instructor Hart saw the boy’s drained state and smirked mockingly.

Clearly, Lyn’s mental energy was overdrawn.

“He must’ve wasted hours in that teleportation chamber.”

Hart had seen fools like this before—stuck in the chamber, stubbornly failing to replicate runes. His scouts inside the Sage Tower confirmed no one had spotted Lyn.

So even after breaking through to Fourth Rank, he was still trash.

Hart’s tense expression relaxed. Now, reporting to his superior would sound much better.