Leon stood before the massive tower, staring up at its impossible height that seemed to pierce the very sky of his dimensional realm.

This is just the beginning. The tower alone is useless without power and proper regulation.

However, before connecting the power supply as described in the item’s telepathic instructions, Leon decided to investigate the structure more thoroughly.

He walked slowly around the base, taking in every detail with careful observation. The tower’s surface was perfectly smooth—almost unnaturally so—with geometric patterns pulsing faintly across the white stone like living circuitry waiting to be activated. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, unlike anything he’d seen in the real world.

He could perceive countless floors stacked vertically inside through his spatial awareness—one hundred distinct layers, each one a separate trial space waiting to be configured and populated with challenges.

At the ground level, Leon found what appeared to be the main entrance—a symbolic gate of some sort with no visible handle, lock, or obvious opening mechanism. Just a rectangular outline carved into the tower’s surface, slightly recessed, with faint runes tracing its perimeter.

Interesting. How does someone enter if there’s no door?

He approached cautiously and tried to push through, extending his hand toward the gate’s surface.

PRESS...

Nothing happened. His palm met solid resistance—the barrier was absolutely impenetrable to his attempt at casual entry. It felt like pushing against condensed space itself, immovable and absolute.

Leon didn’t try to force his way through. Breaking this treasure before even activating it properly would be monumentally stupid.

I don’t want to damage it. Not when I just spent everything I had.

Still, curiosity got the better of him. He gave the gate a light experimental push—just to test its durability and get a sense of its structural integrity.

THUD!

The surface absorbed the impact like nothing. Not even the faintest vibration or stress indicator appeared. It might as well have been pushing against a mountain, or reality itself.

I might not even be able to break in if I tried at full strength. But I definitely don’t want to test that theory. What if it actually broke?

The thought of accidentally destroying a one-hundred-million-causality artifact through careless testing made him wince internally.

Satisfied with his exterior inspection, Leon turned his attention to the two spatial rings he’d received alongside the tower.

He extended his consciousness into the first ring, examining its contents carefully.

A giant circular object... that must be the Worldbreath Mana Condenser.

The second ring contained different contents—a scroll and multiple strange ingredients he couldn’t identify just by observing them through the spatial interface. He’d never seen materials like these before in either of his lives.

Those must be components for creating the Covenant of Stabilized Strife array. I’ll need to build that later, according to specific instructions.

Leon decided to start with the power supply. He focused on the first spatial ring and withdrew the Worldbreath Mana Condenser.

SHIMMER! MATERIALIZE!

The relic appeared in the air before him—a massive spherical construct maybe three meters in diameter, covered in intricate engravings that glowed faintly with internal light. The surface looked like burnished bronze mixed with silver, with channels carved into it that pulsed with dormant energy.

The moment it fully materialized in the dimensional space—

WHOOOOOOOSH!

Like an intense whirlpool suddenly opening in the fabric of reality, the relic began violently sucking surrounding mana into itself with terrifying force.

What the—?!

Leon hadn’t expected such an immediate and aggressive activation. The pull was enormous—a gravitational force specifically targeting ambient mana rather than physical matter, but the intensity was shocking.

He teleported backward instinctively, putting distance between himself and the ravenous artifact.

FWOOSH!

From fifty meters away, he watched with genuine surprise as the giant spherical core slowly descended to rest on the ground, settling into the grass with a soft impression. It glowed brighter with each passing second as it continued its relentless absorption.

The air around it shimmered visibly—mana being stripped from the atmosphere and compressed into the relic’s internal structure. Leon could actually see the distortion with his mystical eyes, watching currents of energy flowing toward the sphere like rivers converging.

It’s devouring everything. The entire area’s mana density is dropping rapidly.

Leon decided to wait and observe rather than interfere. This might be a normal initialization process, and interrupting could cause problems.

The giant core sat on the grassland, pulsing rhythmically as it fed. The glow intensified gradually—starting as a faint blue luminescence, then growing brighter and more vibrant with each passing minute. The light had an almost hypnotic quality.

After about ten minutes, Leon noticed something concerning. The area where mana had become noticeably thinner was expanding outward like a growing bubble of depleted space.

Twenty meters. Fifty meters. One hundred meters.

It’s not stopping. The affected zone keeps growing.

Twenty minutes passed. The mana-depleted area now stretched several hundred meters in radius, and it continued expanding steadily with no signs of slowing.

Leon felt a genuine twinge of worry. What if this process never stabilized? What if the relic consumed all the mana in his entire dimensional realm, leaving it a dead wasteland?

That would be catastrophic. Everything here depends on ambient mana concentration. Plants, animals, the people—all of it.

It was fear in his mind, but he believed that this relic couldn’t do such an absurd thing, and that’s what he hoped.

He prepared to forcibly contain the relic if necessary, though he wasn’t sure how he’d accomplish that without damaging it.

Forty minutes elapsed before things finally changed.

The expansion stopped.

The relic’s glow stabilized at a consistent brightness—no longer intensifying, just maintaining a steady radiance like a blue sun resting on the ground. Mana continued flowing into it from the surrounding atmosphere, but the affected radius had reached its equilibrium point.

Leon conducted a thorough investigation, using his spatial awareness to map the exact boundaries and measure mana density at various distances.

For almost two kilometers around the relic, mana density is significantly affected.

The gradient was dramatic and precisely measurable. Immediately adjacent to the relic—within maybe fifty meters—ambient mana was almost completely absent, stripped away faster than natural generation could replace it.

At one kilometer, mana density was noticeably reduced but not critically low.

At two kilometers’ distance, mana density returned to normal levels like before the relic’s activation, as if an invisible boundary marked the limit of its influence.

The further from the relic, the less impact. It’s creating a permanent low-mana zone with a two-kilometer radius.

Of course, even beyond that two-kilometer boundary, the relic was still constantly drawing mana from the atmosphere across the entire dimensional space. The effect was just distributed widely enough that natural mana generation could keep pace, maintaining equilibrium.

Acceptable. Two kilometers of affected space won’t impact the settlement. I placed the tower far enough away.

Now Leon approached the relic directly—walking into the mana-depleted zone and feeling the immediate difference in ambient energy.

It was like entering a vacuum. His body’s natural mana regeneration slowed to a crawl without external sources to draw from. The sensation was unsettling but not dangerous.

The giant glowing orb floated just above ground level, pulsing with concentrated power in a steady rhythm.

Leon could feel the absolutely massive amount of mana contained within it—compressed and stored with incredible efficiency. And it was still increasing steadily as the relic continued its perpetual absorption from the atmosphere.

It’s basically one gigantic mana core. One that refills itself constantly by drawing from the world.

Then he noticed something else—something unexpected that made him pause.

HUMMM...

A faint vibration in his consciousness. The tower was... responding? Reacting to the relic’s presence with what felt almost like eagerness?

I can feel it. The tower wants this relic.

The moment he’d released the Pillar of Structured Ascension from its miniature casing, some kind of connection had formed. He was its owner, bound to it through whatever cosmic shop mechanics governed such things.

And now the tower was expressing desire—almost like hunger or anticipation—directed specifically toward the Worldbreath Mana Condenser.

It recognizes its power source. It knows this relic will activate its dormant functions.

But Leon didn’t immediately connect them. An idea had formed in his mind—something potentially revolutionary, possibly stupid, but undeniably tempting.

He stared at the glowing blue orb filled with massive amounts of compressed mana. It looked just like an enormous mana core—albeit one with infinite regeneration capability powered by atmospheric absorption.

What if I absorbed this mana directly?

His mind raced through the implications. He obviously couldn’t—and wouldn’t want to—absorb the relic itself. That would destroy the artifact and ruin his entire plan for the dimensional realm.

But the mana contained inside? That’s different. That’s just energy.

And here was the beautiful part: even if he drained all the stored mana, the relic would simply refill itself from the atmosphere. It might take time, but it will recover completely without any permanent damage.

This could be like a leveling glitch. An exploit in the system.

Even if absorbing the relic’s mana didn’t grant him level-ups—which seemed possible since the energy wasn’t technically from a defeated monster core—just increasing his mana capacity would be absurdly valuable.

More mana means more techniques, longer fights, and bigger attacks. Even without levels, the benefit is enormous.

Leon couldn’t help but rub his hands together eagerly, staring at the giant, bluish, glowing sphere with barely contained excitement.

This thing can basically recover mana from the atmosphere indefinitely. I’m not worried about depleting it permanently.

The temptation was overwhelming. Here was potentially unlimited mana—a renewable resource he could tap into whenever needed without guilt or consequence.

Just one absorption session. See what happens. Test the theory.

Leon stepped closer to the relic, his smile widening as anticipation built in his chest like pressure before an explosion.

If this works the way I think it does...

He reached out with both hands, palms hovering inches from the glowing surface. The heat radiating from compressed energy made his skin tingle pleasantly—warm but not burning.

Ready for the glitch I just discovered.

Leon pressed his palms firmly against the relic’s surface and immediately began activating his mana absorption technique—the same method he used for monster cores, but adapted for this unique situation.

WHUMMM!