Shocked

In meditation, the sense of time in the outside world blurred. Matthew could feel his depleted Spirit recovering extremely slowly, even more difficult than his usual meditation, clearly because the mana environment here was quite barren.

But on the other hand, after this high-intensity combat that teetered on the edge of life and death, his control over his own Spirit and his subtle perception of mana seemed to have improved by an indescribable sliver. It was an experience born of practice, far deeper than merely cultivating behind closed doors.

“It's no longer just child's play...”

“Once I walk out of here, I will no longer be that rookie who knows nothing about combat in the wizarding world. I have witnessed a higher level of power, participated in a battle against it, and survived.”

He slowly adjusted his breathing, pushing down the tumbling thoughts in his mind bit by bit, focusing more on guiding the thin mana to nourish his dried-up spring of Spirit.

The tomb hall after the battle was filled with a scorched scent left by the interweaving of ice and fire energy, the stone walls and ground covered in cracks and craters from the impact of spells and colossal force.

The five-meter-tall rock giant golem had now turned into a pile of frost-covered and scorched stone ruins. Only the fist-sized energy core in the center of its chest, flickering with a faint earthy-yellow glow, shone quietly in the rubble, testifying to its terrifying strength that had approached that of a Fourth-Grade Apprentice.

A few wisps of faint mana residue still slowly drifted in the air, which was filled with a strange atmosphere of rock dust, rusted metal, and a burnt smell.

About fifteen minutes later, Herbert was the first to awaken from deep meditation.

His cross-legged figure did not budge in the slightest. Only his closed eyes slowly opened, a sharp gleam flitting across the depths of his grey-blue pupils like an undercurrent flowing beneath ice.

The thin mana particles that had been faintly gathering toward him dissipated, returning to silence.

Although the Spirit in his body was not fully replenished, it had recovered by about fifty percent—an extremely fast speed in an environment so barren and fresh from a violent energy impact.

He did not rise immediately. Instead, he calmly scanned his surroundings, first confirming that the giant golem's core was still lying intact in the rubble before looking at Sutton and Matthew, who were still meditating. There was no expression on his face; he was simply habitually assessing the situation and the condition of his companions.

Another four or five minutes passed, and a barely audible groan escaped Sutton's throat as his single eye snapped open, a hint of post-fatigue sharpness in its depths. There were similarly faint ripples of dispersing mana particles around him. His recovery time was slightly longer than Herbert's, and his recovered Spirit was at about forty percent.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slightly as he quickly adapted to the circulation of mana in his body. He immediately looked at Herbert. Seeing that the other man had long since awakened and was in a stable state, a look of “as expected” flashed in his single eye, and he then turned his gaze toward Matthew.

At this moment, Matthew was still in meditation. His body was slightly stiff from fatigue, but his breathing had become steady and long. Although there was no obvious sign of mana gathering around him, he naturally exuded a calm and focused aura. Sutton had originally only cast a casual glance, but in the next instant, a subtle trace of shock and doubt suddenly flashed through his single eye.

As time continued to pass, at around the twenty-five-minute mark, Matthew's eyelashes trembled slightly. He slowly exhaled a long breath of turbid air and opened his eyes.

Upon waking, he did not move immediately. Instead, he quickly sank into inner vision, carefully sensing the condition of his spiritual sea and his body.

After a draining battle and meditation, his Spirit had recovered by about forty to fifty percent. Although far from full, the dizziness and exhaustion of near-depletion had mostly faded.

The mana circulating through his meridians felt sluggish, but it had regained basic activity. This state meant that he now possessed some ability to protect himself, at least enough to cast a few key spells in a moment of crisis, rather than being completely helpless.

Just as he was quietly assessing his condition and his mind had settled slightly, two clear, scrutinizing gazes unexpectedly fell upon him in a subtle manner.

First was Sutton. This single-eyed wizard apprentice, who had regained consciousness shortly after Herbert woke up, was now standing silently not far away, staring heavily at Matthew. The fatigue on his face had not fully dissipated, but his single eye flickered with a shock and doubt that was hard to conceal.

When Matthew opened his eyes, revealing a clear-headed state rather than lethargy, Sutton's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

“So fast?” A clear question exploded in his heart. He knew better than anyone how terrible the mana environment in this tomb hall was—having just experienced a violent energy collision with a near Fourth-Grade golem, the mana particles floating in the air were not only thin but also mixed with chaotic elemental residue, making absorption yield half the result for twice the effort.

As a Third-Grade Apprentice himself, his recovery speed was far slower than usual, and Herbert's ability to wake up first was already proof of his strength. As for Matthew, a Second-Grade Apprentice with a shallow foundation, his ability to capture free energy should theoretically be the weakest among the three. Under such harsh conditions, his required recovery time should have been the longest, perhaps even requiring them to wait for a very long time.

Yet, Matthew had awakened. Although it was about ten minutes later than them, this “late,” compared to the “extremely late” it should have been, seemed extraordinarily “fast.” This was no longer something that could be explained by merely being “acceptable.”

Sutton's single eye narrowed slightly, his gaze seemingly wanting to pierce through Matthew's calm exterior to see the essence of his spiritual core.

He recalled Matthew's performance in the battle—the spiritual shock that precisely interrupted the giant golem's energy charge, the calm eyes that judged the battlefield...

At the time, he only thought this young man was bold and meticulous, or perhaps had some special means. But now, combined with this abnormal recovery speed...

“Could it be... that this Second-Grade Apprentice I casually dragged along is actually a rare genius?” This thought sent a jolt through Sutton's heart.

He had seen so-called geniuses and had heard of those dazzling rising stars during his time at the academy, but those were all distant from him. The seemingly ordinary Matthew in front of him, who even had a somewhat blurry background, displayed a characteristic that defied common sense in the most fundamental “recovery resilience.” The recovery speed of Spirit, especially in harsh environments, was often closely related to an individual's talent potential and the quality of their spiritual origin.

An apprentice who could quickly “recover their breath” in a mana-barren place meant that their spiritual sea might be more active, more efficient, or... possessed some special affinity trait. This kind of talent was sometimes valued more by veteran wizards than mere current spell power, as it foretold better growth and adaptability.

A complex wave of emotion spread through Sutton's heart—there was surprise, a gravity born of re-evaluation, and even a faint, subtle feeling of having stumbled upon a treasure. But more than anything, it was a wariness brought about by an unplanned variable. Matthew's value, it seemed, needed to be adjusted upward once again.

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