The Glitched Mage-Chapter 103: Losing Control Part 2

Every time he had been angry before, there had always been something lurking at the edges of his mind—a dark whisper clawing at his thoughts, feeding his fury, pushing him further. He had always felt on the verge of something, an unbearable pressure building inside him, just waiting to break free.

Now, he understood.

It wasn't just rage.

It was the Abyss itself, coursing through his veins—pure, raw, and untamed. A power so vast, so overwhelming, that it threatened to consume him whole.

It was intoxicating.

And terrifying.

A sharp voice cut through the heavy silence.

"Riven."

Nyx stood beside him, her expression unreadable, but her stance was tense—too tense. Her obsidian eyes, usually laced with amusement or sharp calculation, held something dangerously close to concern. She had seen him battle, seen him wield abyssal flames with terrifying precision.

But this?

This was something else.

"You lost control," she said, stepping forward, her gaze locked onto him. "I felt it. Even outside the Created Space, the sheer pressure of your mana nearly tore through reality."

Riven flexed his fingers, still feeling the lingering heat of abyssal power thrumming beneath his skin. His body ached—not from exhaustion, but from something deeper, something unfamiliar.

"It was just for a moment," he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Nyx didn't look convinced. "A moment is all it takes."

She crouched before him, studying him with the same piercing intensity she used when evaluating battle strategies. "Velmorian wielded the Abyss, but not like that. Not this… raw. Even when he pushed his limits, it never felt like this." Her voice lowered, edged with something uneasy. "This was different. You weren't wielding it. It was wielding you."

Riven exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the cave wall. "It wasn't that bad."

Nyx's eyes narrowed. "You don't see yourself right now." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Your mana veins are pulsing like they're about to rupture. Your body isn't meant to handle that level of power yet. If you let too much of the Abyss through, you won't just burn out—you'll tear yourself apart."

Riven smirked slightly, but there was no amusement behind it. "Then I'll just have to learn how to control it."

Nyx scoffed, standing up, but there was no satisfaction in her usual sharp remarks. "You always say that. And yet every time, you push yourself closer to something you might not come back from."

He met her gaze, unwavering. "I'm not Velmorian, Nyx. I'm not going to lose."

She exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave off an oncoming headache. "Just… don't do anything reckless," she muttered at last.

Riven smirked. "When am I not careful?"

Nyx scoffed, unimpressed.

But his mind was already elsewhere.

Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath and focused his will once more.

'Activate Created Space Training.'

The world twisted.

The cave melted away, and the battlefield returned.

The sky above stretched endlessly, dark and storm-laced, while the ground beneath his feet burned with abyssal veins, cracking under the pressure of his mana.

And across from him—Cassiel.

Golden light pulsed from the paladin's form, his sword gleaming with holy radiance. His presence alone felt suffocating, the sheer weight of divine energy pressing down on the battlefield like an unyielding force.

Riven took a slow breath.

This time, he wouldn't just endure.

He would conquer.

Cassiel lunged, a flash of gold splitting the air.

Riven moved, his Crimson Mirage activating instantly—his form splitting into flickering afterimages as he evaded, his body twisting in an unnatural, unpredictable motion.

The divine blade missed his chest by a fraction of an inch.

Riven retaliated, shadows twisting at his feet as he unleashed Scorching Chain, the abyssal bindings lashing toward Cassiel in an attempt to restrain him.

The paladin barely flinched.

A pulse of divine energy erupted from him, obliterating the chains before they could even tighten.

Too fast.

Too strong.

Riven's grip on his sword tightened.

He needed more.

He needed to break through Cassiel's defenses.

He clenched his jaw and let his anger build—not enough to lose control, but enough to feel that dark presence begin to stir inside him.

The Abyss.

He reached for it.

Tried to siphon just a fraction of its power.

The result was instant.

A surge of abyssal energy tore through him, not a trickle, not a controlled stream—but a flood.

Riven barely had time to react before it overtook his senses, black flames erupting around his form, consuming everything in their path.

His mind blurred.

His vision twisted.

For a brief second, all he saw was darkness.

Then—

White-hot pain.

Cassiel's sword pierced through his chest, golden flames searing his core.

Riven gasped.

[[ —RESET— ]]

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He hit the ground, coughing violently as he was yanked back to the start of the training space.

His breath came ragged, his hands trembling slightly as he processed what had just happened.

Too much.

He had drawn in too much at once, and the Abyss had overwhelmed him completely. He hadn't wielded it—it had drowned him.

Again.

Try again.

He stood, rolling his shoulders, shaking off the lingering sensation of losing control.

Once more.

He activated Phantom Step, his body flickering between shadows as he dodged Cassiel's initial strike. This time, he controlled his breath, his emotions, focusing as he reached for the Abyss again.

Just a sliver.

The dark energy stirred within him, no longer an uncontrollable flood threatening to consume him but a slow, steady tide rising from the depths. It coiled around his mana heart, waiting, watching, no longer thrashing wildly against his control but pressing at the edges of his restraint, eager to be unleashed.

Cassiel moved first. A flash of gold. His blade came down in a blinding arc, divine energy radiating from its edge, the sheer weight of it threatening to carve through everything in its path.

Riven met the strike head-on, abyssal fire igniting along his sword—not in a chaotic burst, not in a reckless surge, but with deliberate control. The moment their blades clashed, the air crackled with opposing forces, divine light and abyssal darkness colliding in a violent struggle.

But this time, Riven didn't buckle.

The force of the impact no longer sent him skidding back, no longer shattered his footing or threatened to tear the weapon from his grasp. His body held firm, the abyss flowing through his veins like tempered steel rather than raw, unbridled chaos. The golden light of Cassiel's sword sizzled against the abyssal flames, neither overpowering the other completely, the balance of their clash shifting ever so slightly.

And this time—his sword didn't crack under the pressure.

This time, his flames didn't flicker and die out.

Cassiel's expression shifted, his ever-present confidence thinning just a fraction, the faintest glimmer of something else flickering across his face.

Riven saw it.

And he grinned.

He was getting closer.

The battle raged on, a relentless cycle of death and rebirth, each clash pressing Riven closer to the edge of his limits—and beyond them.

This time, he didn't just fight to endure. He fought to learn, to adapt, to carve a path through the overwhelming weight of divine energy suffocating the battlefield.

Cassiel moved like a golden specter, divine light trailing his every motion, his blade a seamless extension of his will. Every strike was precise, every counter flawless, as if he had fought Riven a thousand times before and knew exactly how to dismantle him.

Riven had no choice but to move faster, think sharper.

He activated Crimson Mirage, his form flickering in and out of existence, a series of heat-induced afterimages making it impossible to pin him down. But Cassiel didn't hesitate—his sword split through the illusions with frightening accuracy, divine energy burning through the remnants of Riven's fakes like paper catching fire.

Too fast.

Riven ducked beneath a sweeping slash, twisting his body mid-motion, his Phantom Step activating just in time to shift him into Cassiel's blind spot. His sword lashed out, a surge of abyssal fire roaring to life along the blade as he drove it toward Cassiel's unguarded ribs.

But just before it struck—

Cassiel turned.

A blinding pulse of divine energy exploded outward.

Riven barely had time to brace before the golden light slammed into him, obliterating his abyssal fire, reversing his momentum in an instant. His body hurtled backward, skidding across the cracked battlefield as Cassiel straightened, his expression unreadable.

"You're improving," he admitted, voice calm but sharp. "But it's not enough."

Riven snarled under his breath, dragging himself back up.

Not enough?

Then he would take more.

The Abyss stirred, responding to his call, dark energy curling around his limbs. He forced himself to focus, to control it, to siphon it in only a fraction at a time.

Abyssal fire surged through his veins—powerful, but contained.

He would not lose himself again.

He charged.

Their swords met once more, but this time, the impact didn't send him reeling. Riven held firm, pressing forward, matching Cassiel's divine energy with abyssal fury. His Scorching Chains lashed out, coiling toward Cassiel's wrists, but the paladin flicked his blade, golden light severing the bindings in an instant.

Riven was ready.

He twisted, using the broken chains as a feint, his Ember Cloak flaring to life. The fire-wreathed armor increased his speed, his reaction time sharpening to match Cassiel's movements. His strikes came faster, more precise. Every swing of his sword now carried the weight of both his skill and the controlled abyssal power he was learning to wield.

Cassiel's smirk faltered.

Riven saw it.

And then—

He let go.

Not completely, not enough to drown, but just enough to pull from the Abyss.

A single moment of surrender.

The world slowed.

His veins ignited with something beyond fire, beyond magic. His vision sharpened, the battlefield around him twisting into something more vivid, more real. The threads of divine mana crackling around Cassiel became tangible, visible patterns of light.

And for the first time—

Riven saw a weakness.

Cassiel moved, divine energy arcing toward him like a cleaving sunbeam—

And Riven was already gone.

His body flickered, Phantom Step activating seamlessly, not as an escape, but as an advance. He slipped through the divine pressure as if it welcomed him, his sword humming with abyssal power that no longer fought against him but flowed with him.

He reappeared behind Cassiel.

And struck.

The impact landed.

Cassiel twisted just in time to avoid a fatal blow, but Riven's sword still carved across his shoulder, abyssal fire lashing through the divine aura that once felt untouchable.

For the first time—

Cassiel staggered.

Riven's breath came heavy, his body alight with pain and power, his grip tight around his sword.

But he grinned.

Cassiel exhaled, rolling his shoulder, inspecting the blackened cut with mild interest. Then, slowly, he chuckled.

"Interesting." He turned back toward Riven, golden light crackling at his fingertips.

Riven smirked, flames licking at his skin.

Again.