Sign In To The Body Of Chaos At The Start-Chapter 96: Final Training!

~BANG!~

An implosion of space wrecked the battlefield, as blood and smoke hung in the air. Damon was also hovering in the air above some abyssal creatures, his arms outstretched as he bent space.

"Collapse!"

He muttered, and a miniature black hole spun to life in the palm of his hand, ripping the air, mana and shrieking monstrosities into its crushing orbit.

Limbs and wings snapped like twigs as the creatures were dragged inward, their roars silenced as their mass collapsed into singularity.

Another creature lunged from behind, but Damon didn’t turn. With a whisper of will, he carved the space beside him.

"Spacial Cleave."

A silver arc tore through the air, a gash in space itself, and the monster flew right into it.For a heartbeat, the creature froze, half of its body on one side of the tear, the rest on the other, before space realigned. Its body split apart with clean, surreal silence.

More poured in from the sides.

Damon exhaled.

Dozens of spatial rifts bloomed around him in a flower of death. Then with a gesture, they all collapsed inward, like a closing eye, and all the attacking enemies vanished.

Finally, with all of that done, Damon hovered back onto the ground.

No enemies came charging from the shadows. No rumble of a lurking beast announced itself. Only silence greeted him, the deep, reverent quiet of a chamber older than memory.

With all the enemies dead, he looked around. This floor was just a boundless black dome that stretched above and around, so immense it looked like the night sky itself.

Damon exhaled, finally able to take in the peace and sat down cross legged, pulling out two runes, The Space Law Rune and a Darkness Law Rune that he obtained from a recent sign in.

The runes glowed in his palm, layered in a language older than the world, as if written in the book of reality.

He sat between the runes, resting the palms of his hands on his knees while he closed his eyes, reaching inward.

Mana surged through his veins. Not wildly, not like a spell cast or technique launched, but slowly, deliberately. His consciousness pulled away from his physical senses, plunging into the spiritual realm of the runes themselves.

The first rune to respond was the Rune of Darkness. The rune came to him like a whisper at the edge of his personal perception.

Damon felt his own presence blur, his form becoming less of a man and more of a thought. He saw the concept of darkness laid bare.

Darkness was not the absence of light. It was much more than that, it was a void of infinite possibilities, a force both metaphysical and mental. Darkness could be described as everything but nothing.

’All things come from Darkness, and all things will return to the void of Darkness.’

Darkness had potential as the canvas before creation.

He leaned deeper into it. Threads of memory emerged, every shadow he’d stepped through, every concealment he’d performed, every moment the Abyss had tried to consume him.

He saw it all reflected in the rune. The difference now was understanding.

Damon extended his right hand, and a cloud of darkness bloomed in his palm, not chaotic or feral, but shaped, willing. He folded it inward, compressing it until it was a dagger of black glass.

Then he released it. It dissolved back into shadow without a trace. This was easy, as the one who had the Shadow Monarch powers, he could manipulate that easily, but he wanted to go further.

By combining the Rune of Darkness with the Shadow Monarch’s powers, he could actually improve it, and reach a level of Darkness control unparalleled.

The lesson he learned was simple. Darkness becomes anything it needs to. A shape, a shield, a spear. A cloak. A prison.

He conjured another. This time, he formed a shroud around himself. Not just invisibility. He shaped the shadows to bend perception, warping light and sound around his body, weaving runes of distortion within it.

Even the residual mana signature vanished. It wasn’t stealth, it was erasure. By returning it to darkness, he had erased it for existence, sending it back to the void of creation where all came from.

He smiled, deciding to move onto another Law.

Here came Space.

Unlike darkness, which welcomed, even after practicing it for so long, Space resisted.

It was rigid and layered, Damon reached toward the second rune, and felt his soul strain against a thousand barriers.

Every point in space was guarded by laws: of distance, inertia, gravity, relativity. The amount of knowledge Damon had to comprehend was magnitudes bigger than the Darkness Law.

Every time he practiced, it was like reading a 20,000 page book every second. Calculations, Magic, Theory, anything and everything one could think of related to Space was reflected in its law.

Thankfully, he had the <Eyes Of Oblivion> which massively helped him in comprehending all of this, but he still needed to try extremely hard.

Now, he wanted more than tricks. He wanted ownership. For the final battles, he wanted complete dominion over this Law, to give him the extra trump cards he needed.

He pressed both palms to the rune and shut his eyes. A long breath escaped him, and the air twisted.

Suddenly, he was falling, not physically, but perceptually. Space peeled apart like a scroll.

Layers upon layers unfolded, grids, spirals, lattices.

All of it connected, each point in the world only a few folds away from another. Space was a dialogue, everything spoke to everything else through the language of position, of calculation.

Once he understood that language, he could be anywhere and do anything. Magnify gravity exponentially, travel through dimensions at a whim, it was the language of everything all around him.

If he could speak that language fluently, he could place his will anywhere. He could move not just objects, but rules.

He envisioned a rock across the platform. Without lifting a hand, he compressed the space between them. The stone blurred and snapped to his palm with a sharp rush of wind. Not teleportation. Not force. Simply relocation.

He stood up and tossed it back into the distance.

Then he reached again, this time not to move, but to trap.

With two fingers, he traced a shape in the air: a triangle of curved lines. A rune of suspension. The space around the stone compressed inward, forming an invisible shell. Damon clapped once, and the shell folded tighter, locking the rock in a static stasis, unmoving, inviolable.

He walked away. The stone remained suspended, impossibly frozen, locked outside the passage of time. He had made a prison without walls.

But he knew that was very basic, he could go further and further.

Folding both Space and Darkness together, he conjured a sphere, a miniature battlefield where gravity flowed sideways and light could not penetrate.

He trapped echoes inside it, bits of sound from previous breaths, reflections of shadow from earlier movements.

The sphere replayed them like ghosts, layers of himself moving within it. A Shadow Echo Realm, one he could use to confuse or trap enemies. It would make illusions from his own past actions. Real ones.

Once he trapped enemies in this realm, they’d simply be left to lose their minds, trapped for what seemed like an eternity in perpetual shadow echo.

He pushed it farther still.

He created a spatial loop. A feedback echo: step here, reappear there. But if someone tried to escape the loop, they’d simply teleport back into it.

Damon wrapped it in a ring of darkness that devoured perception, no way to know where the loop began or ended, so there would be no conceivable way to escape it.

A battlefield that trapped minds and bodies both. At this point, Damon wasn’t just controlling elements, he was creating Domains.

In a Domain, he would not just be wielding magic, he would be a Sovereign over the world covered in that Domain. If he wanted no light, light wouldn’t exist. Darkness would be his weapon and shadow the sharpening tool.

This was no longer just control of elements. He was creating domains.

He stood in the center of the platform again, but now it felt different. He whispered a word, and his voice repeated from behind him, above him, beneath him, space folding sound through mirrored tunnels.

He closed his fist, and shadow shot from his fingertips in thin ribbons, looping through the air like a calligrapher’s brush, inscribing his will into reality.

He opened his eyes. Black rings of darkness and warped light pulsed in them.

"Not just mastery," he said softly, "but ownership."

The Codex fluttered open. Not to a specific spell, but a blank page. Waiting. Damon raised a hand and etched with his will, crafting a new technique.

Technique Created: Eclipse Labyrinth

A field of warped space and layered shadows. Entry locks the opponent in a shifting terrain of fake echoes, phantom teleportations, and gravity inversions. No path leads out, unless Damon allows it.

He etched another:

Technique Created: Abyss Step

A form of movement that uses layered space folds and shadow projection to phase between dimensions. Cannot be tracked by normal perception.

He stopped after the third.

Technique Created: Oblivion Halo

A defensive veil that blurs time and space around Damon, causing incoming spells to "miss" their target by bending paths away from the real him.

His breathing was calm, though his body felt strangely light—as if he’d left behind something during his meditation.

He looked to the runes beneath his feet, which now pulsed steadily.

Now, Damon could feel his energy boiling up. He quickly focused up and after 20 minutes, it had happened.

Damon had become an Arch-Mage!