The Cage

Within the radiance, a space entrance barely large enough for one person appeared.

The edge of the entrance was not a regular geometric shape, but like torn canvas. Unstable spatial particles flickered along its edges, emanating a deeply unsettling aura.

This was the trace left behind by forcibly distorting spatial laws. For low-level wizards, stepping inside was no different from placing themselves at the edge of being torn apart by spatial turbulence. Without the guidance of a high-level wizard's beacon, they would likely be exiled into the endless void in an instant.

Dago's eyes flickered. He suppressed his instinctive trembling and adjusted the frequency of his spiritual power to accommodate the fluctuating spatial entrance. He stepped toward it, but just as he was about to enter, Undine suddenly called out to him.

"Dago."

Undine's voice came through the spatial ripples, sounding somewhat distorted and ethereal.

Dago turned around. Undine stared steadily at him, and complicated, inscrutable emotions churned in her eyes, which seemed to contain countless water elements.

Her lips moved as though she had a thousand things to say—about the cruelty of factional struggles, the cold-blooded machinations of the upper ranks, and the heaps of bones along this world's path toward truth.

But in the end, all those emotions were once again covered by the mask called "reason." She merely said calmly, "Make good use of this opportunity."

Dago nodded. No longer hesitating, he stepped into the entrance.

As Dago's figure was swallowed, the spatial ripples slowly calmed.

A trace of coldness suddenly appeared on Undine's calm face. It was both the resentment of someone crushed beneath the weight of power and a mockery of so-called "rules."

Facing the empty end of the corridor, she spoke coldly.

"Is this supposed to be compensation? It would be more accurate to