"With the Black-Slayer Combat Set, my reconstructed War Arts, and my protocols, my combat data is officially off the charts." Lance glanced at the time on his terminal. It was 6:00 AM. He had two hours before Silas Stuart arrived to pick him up.

  He frowned slightly, feeling a bit restless.

  "Looks like before I head out, I can only focus on grinding Solar Flare Blast to Expert rank. I’ll have to find an opportunity to run the reconstruction program while we're on the move."

  Even with top-tier talent, mastering a Rank 3 - MAX Psionic technique in such a short window was no small feat. However, Lance was mentally prepared.

  To him, the so-called "top geniuses" of Planet Silvermoon were nothing more than hothouse flowers. With his current stats, he didn't even need War Arts, weapons, or Battle Aura. His raw physical attributes alone were enough to steamroll all of them.

  Lance closed his eyes, and his consciousness sank back into the Holographic Simulation Space. He pulled the logical circuits for Solar Flare Blast from the database and began deep simulation.

  "This Psionic skill has no fixed physical form. It relies entirely on using Psionic power to place extreme constraints on energy. The barrier to entry is high," Lance noted, observing the simulated energy model.

  Despite the difficulty, he pushed forward.

  Taking a deep breath, he began to channel his Solar Stellar Flame. Golden fire coalesced in his palm, drawn by his Psionic intent, rapidly expanding into a massive, high-heat fireball over two hundred meters in diameter.

  Terrifying heatwaves rolled through the simulation space. If a mass of Solar Stellar Flame this size detonated, it would instantly vaporize a small town—fitting, considering a Grandmaster was classified as a "City-Eraser" by the Federation.

  But this was just the beginning. If it were merely about stacking energy, the skill wouldn't be rated at eight stars.

  "Compress!"

  Lance barked a low command, his hands clenching toward the center. His Psionic Telekinesis exploded outward.

  Hum—!

  The massive golden-red fireball felt as if it were being crushed by an invisible, titanic force. Its diameter was forcibly squeezed from a thousand meters down to five hundred.

  As the volume shrank, the energy density within tripled. The once-loose flames began to take on a semi-solid, fluid consistency.

  This was only the start. According to the protocol, he needed to maintain constant collapse-suppression.

  Four hundred meters... three hundred...

  The mass of the fireball was now three times its initial state. At this stage of compression, Lance felt immense resistance.

  When the diameter hit two hundred fifty meters, the very nature of the fire began to change. While its single-target destructive power had theoretically quadrupled, its stability had dropped to absolute zero.

  According to the peak description of Solar Flare Blast, the hallmark of Perfect proficiency was compressing it to one-sixteenth of its original size—roughly sixty meters in diameter. At that point, it would become a true "miniature sun," with explosive power rivaling a Rank 4 War Art.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Squeeze harder!" Lance gritted his teeth, pouring out every drop of his Psionic energy.

  Vroom—!

  Suddenly, disaster struck! As the fireball was forced past the two-hundred-meter boundary, the energy balance at the core shattered. The searing fluid began to pulse violently.

  BOOM—!!

  Lance didn't even have time to react before the destabilized energy erupted. A terrifying solar flare shockwave swept through everything, instantly vaporizing Lance’s simulated body into molecules.

  The consciousness space fell into a dead silence, only to reconstruct itself in a flash of light.

  "Dangerously volatile, as expected." Lance panted, though his eyes sparkled with excitement. "You can't just brute-force this with power. You have to maintain a perfect Psionic balance across every tiny curvature. Otherwise, it's just a nuke waiting to go off in your face."

  However, that failed compression had given him a lead. In the Holographic Simulation Space, he had infinite retries. He could push the limits without fear.

  "The power of that self-detonation was four times stronger than a standard burst... once I master Undying God-Body, this move will be the ultimate 'take them with me' trump card." Lance chuckled at himself and closed his eyes again.

  "Again!"

  8:00 AM. Silvermoon City was bathed in the glow of the rising sun. The steel metropolis groaned to life amidst the roar of giant ventilation fans as the gears of a new day began to turn.

  At the entrance of the Profession Guild, Marcus climbed the steps, looking sharp in a clean Tactical Gi with a shiny Professional Medal pinned to his chest. He looked like a man who had finally caught a break.

  "Holy crap, Marcus? You actually passed the Professional Exam?"

  A few veteran soldiers and adventurers who knew him crowded around in shock.

  "Heh, you bet I did." Marcus puffed out his chest. "Passed yesterday. Personally slaughtered three Rank 1 Void Beasts. You lot know what that means, right?"

  The crowd hissed sharply in unison.

  "I heard the exam was on Hunting Planet X-10. That place is a death trap. You actually made it back alive?"

  "Yeah, I heard even Director Raymond almost got clipped out there. Old man, you really lucked out this time."

  "Marcus, I didn't know you still had it in you!"

  Marcus soaked in the praise, feeling like he was walking on air.

  "By the way, I heard a real monster showed up from Silvermoon yesterday. Some A+ Rank Top-tier Elite! The exam was on X-10 too. Marcus, did you see the big shot?" a friend who had been a certified Professional for years leaned in and asked.

  The crowd immediately went wild.

  "What? Another A+ Rank from Silvermoon? For real?"

  "It was just posted on the Guild’s official site! They hid the name and coordinates, but the certification location was definitely X-10!"

  "God... A+ Rank. That’s a kid destined for the Imperial Royal War Academy."

  Marcus’s lips curled upward into a mysterious smirk. "Hahaha! Speaking of that A+ Rank genius, I didn't just see him—I know exactly where he’s from."

  "Where?"

  "Bullshit, Marcus! A genius like that is probably some high-born brat from the Capital sent here for field experience. You think you could even get a word in?"

  "Exactly. The site didn't release the info. How would you know?"

  Marcus looked at their skeptical faces and slapped his thigh. "Hey! You better believe it! That legendary A+ genius is a Silvermoon local, born and raised! He sat on the same shuttle as me to get to the exam. You tell me if I saw him or not!"

  The onlookers exchanged glances. The atmosphere turned weirdly silent for a few seconds.

  Then, they looked at Marcus with eyes full of pity and compassion.

  Marcus froze. "What's with the faces? Aren't you excited?"

  "Sigh... another one gone. Classic case of Post-War Hallucination Syndrome."

  "Yeah, X-10 is a hellhole. The mental pressure must have been too much. Poor Marcus... he probably got scared half to death and started seeing things."

  A burly man walked over and patted Marcus on the shoulder with a heavy, sympathetic hand. "Marcus, listen to me, buddy. The medical center next to the Guild is great at treating this stuff. Just go, sign in for a consultation, stay a couple of days. You'll be fine. Don't let it linger."

  Marcus was stunned. They thought he was losing his mind?

  "Hey! I'm telling the truth! My mental state is solid! That genius is Lance, from right here in Silvermoon! Why else would a shuttle from a dump like this be allowed to land on X-10 for an exam?"

  Marcus broke into a sweat, shouting his defense.

  "Right, right, you’re absolutely right," the burly man nodded as if he were soothing a child, but his grip was firm as he started dragging Marcus away. "Come on, Marcus. Drinks are on me. The medical wing is right next to the tavern anyway, we’ll just stop by..."

  "Dammit! If we’re getting drinks, why are you dragging me to the hospital? Baron, you don't believe me either?!"