《Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats》


 Info & Stats

    Chapter -1: Info & StatsStats as of Chapter 18


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent), One who gazes (+10 Intelligence)]


    [Talent: Mind''s Eye - Semi Awakened, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100 (Tip: Can at least take a punch, from a five year old that is)]


    [Mental Strength: 270/270] S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Intelligence: 125+ (+10)]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: You actually managed to advance your talent! I''m impressed. But this doesn''t change anything! Trash is still trash]


    Skills:


    [Observer''s Intuition - Transcended](Intrinsic) - Through deep understanding and countless observations, this natural talent has evolved beyond its enlightened state, reaching a transcendent level that fundamentally alters how the user perceives and processes reality. This evolution grants supernatural insight into both the physical and metaphysical realms, allowing for observation and analysis that transcends normal human limitations. (Subskills: [Mind''s Eye](S), [Heightened Perception](A), [Pattern Recognition](A), [Thought Transmission](A), [Detail Retention](B), [Focus State](B))


    [Mind''s Eye](S) - The pinnacle of observational ability, granting the power to perceive the true nature of all things. This supernatural sense allows the user to instantly analyze and understand the complete information of any person or object they focus on, including stats, skills, abilities, history, and hidden properties. For living beings, it can reveal their true nature, current state, emotional condition, and potential futures. For objects, it unveils their composition, purpose, magical properties, and even their past. The depth of information scales with the user''s mental strength, and prolonged use on powerful subjects can cause mental fatigue. At its peak, this ability can even perceive conceptual information like fate, destiny, and metaphysical properties.


    [Heightened Perception](A) - An advanced enhancement of the user''s sensory capabilities that approaches supernatural levels. Visual acuity is increased by 300%, allowing for crystal clear vision up to 500 meters and the ability to track hypersonic movements. Hearing sensitivity is improved by 250%, enabling the user to detect whispers from up to 150 meters away and perfectly distinguish hundreds of overlapping sounds. The sense of smell has evolved to track specific individuals across vast distances and detect subtle emotional changes through pheromones. This heightened state can be maintained indefinitely without strain.


    [Pattern Recognition](A) - Accelerates the brain''s ability to process and connect information to supernatural levels. The user processes visual patterns and sequences 400% faster than normal, instantly spotting irregularities in behavior and environment that others would miss entirely. This skill grants an almost prescient ability to link seemingly unrelated pieces of information, making it invaluable for complex problem-solving and prediction. The user can analyze multiple pattern streams simultaneously without mental strain.


    [Thought Transmission](A) - An evolved form of mental communication that approaches true telepathy. The user can transmit their gathered information telepathically to multiple willing recipients within a 500-meter radius, complete with full sensory details from their observations. They gain near-perfect sensitivity to mental transmissions in their vicinity, able to detect, intercept, and even redirect telepathic communications within 300 meters. This sensitivity extends to reading surface thoughts and emotional states of those around them.


    [Detail Retention](B) - Dramatically enhances the user''s ability to retain and process observed information. The user can perfectly recall visual and sensory information from the last 24 hours, maintaining clarity of up to 500 specific details simultaneously. This ability excels at remembering exact positions, expressions, movements, and environmental changes, while also granting enhanced analysis of inconsistencies in remembered information. The retained information can be mentally categorized and cross-referenced instantaneously.


    [Focus State](B) - Enables the user to maintain supernatural levels of concentrated observation indefinitely. The user can maintain unwavering attention for up to 24 hours with no degradation in performance, with a 90% reduction in the impact of external distractions. This state eliminates mental fatigue during observation tasks entirely, allowing for continuous detailed investigation. The user can maintain awareness of multiple focal points simultaneously while in this state.


    ___


    [Mathematician](Unique) - A rare talent that fundamentally alters the mind''s processing capabilities, granting exceptional mental powers and analytical abilities that transcend normal human limitations. This supernatural mathematical insight allows for complex calculations and analysis far beyond ordinary comprehension, enabling the user to perceive and manipulate abstract concepts through pure mathematical understanding. (Subskills: [Rational Mind](S), [Mental Fortress](S), [Perfect Recall](S), [Thought Acceleration](S), [Parallel Processing](S), [Time Perception](A))


    [Rational Mind](S) - The pinnacle of logical processing, this ability maintains perfect clarity of thought regardless of circumstances. The user remains completely immune to emotional manipulation and can think clearly even under extreme stress or fear. The ability to separate emotions from decision-making becomes second nature, while also preventing mental breakdown in even the most traumatic situations, ensuring consistent rational thought processes.


    [Mental Fortress](S) - Creates an impenetrable defense system against all forms of mental interference. The user gains complete immunity to hypnosis and mind control attempts, 95% resistance to illusion-based abilities, and 90% resistance to mental-type damage. The skill also eliminates mental fatigue entirely, allowing for indefinite peak mental performance while providing rapid recovery from any mental strain that does occur.


    [Perfect Recall](S) - Transcends normal memory limitations, granting supernatural retention and processing capabilities. The user gains eternal perfect retention of all experienced events, with instant access to any memory at will. Information can be analyzed, categorized, and cross-referenced instantly across infinite data points, enabling complex pattern recognition across all stored memories simultaneously.


    [Thought Acceleration](S) - Elevates mental processing speed to supernatural levels, accelerating thought by a factor of 1000. This extreme acceleration enables instant analysis of complex situations, perfect tactical assessment, and instantaneous problem-solving capabilities. The user experiences time in extreme slow-motion during accelerated thinking, allowing for exhaustive analysis in split-second situations.


    [Parallel Processing](S) - A supernatural ability that allows the mind to operate multiple independent thought streams simultaneously. The user can completely isolate and compartmentalize different mental processes, enabling them to pursue multiple complex analyses or tasks at once with no loss of efficiency. Each thought process operates with full access to the user''s mental capabilities, allowing for true multitasking rather than rapid task switching. The number of parallel processes scales with mental strength, though each active process consumes a portion of the user''s mental strength pool.


    [Time Perception](A) - Enhances the brain''s ability to process information in real-time to an advanced degree. Users gain enhanced ability to track dozens of events simultaneously, along with exceptional situational awareness and greatly superior reaction time to observed events. This skill also grants improved prediction of immediate outcomes through enhanced temporal processing.

 Chapter 1: Can’t be cured even in two lifetimes

    Chapter 1: Can¡¯t be cured even in two lifetimesFrom the hundredth floor of the towering hospital building, Li Mingzhe stood at the open window of his small room, his unusually sharp eyes taking in every detail of the scene below. Despite the dizzying height, he could distinguish individual children playing in the field with perfect clarity - one of his peculiar abilities that seemed to compensate for his physical limitations. His extraordinary eyesight and brilliant mind stood in stark contrast to his frail body, weakened by a rare disease that had confined him to this sterile space for as long as his memory stretched.


    The hospital room, though equipped with the latest medical technology money could buy, felt more like a gilded cage. Its small dimensions had become all too familiar over the years - every crack in the ceiling, every subtle mark on the walls etched into his memory. The world beyond his window seemed to taunt him with its vastness and vibrancy, so close yet perpetually out of reach.


    His knowledge of his family was limited to fragments: they were exceptionally wealthy, evidenced by the premium private room and constant medical care, but personal connections were sparse. His mother''s visits had dwindled since his younger sister''s birth, and when she did come, her attention seemed divided, her thoughts clearly preoccupied with the new addition to their family. His father remained an enigma - a perpetually busy figure he had never met, existing only in passing mentions and excuses for absence.


    Lost in his contemplation of the playing children below, Li Mingzhe was startled by a sharp voice behind him. "I told you to stop opening the window, it''s dangerous!" The new nurse appeared at his side, her face etched with disapproval as she gestured for him to step back. Obediently, he moved away, watching as she firmly shut the windows.


    "Why don''t you just admire the scene through the glass instead of opening the entire window? It''s not like you can see anything down there anyway," she admonished, turning to place a meal tray on the recently cleaned table. Little did she know about his exceptional vision - another detail that set him apart from others.


    Li Mingzhe observed her with quiet resignation. Unlike his previous nurse, whose gentle demeanor had made his confinement more bearable, this new one ruled with strict guidelines that stripped away what few pleasures he had. He briefly wondered about his former nurse but dismissed the thought - years had passed, and change was inevitable in hospitals.


    The nurse efficiently wiped down the table and set out his meal, rattling off instructions that Li Mingzhe deliberately tuned out. After she left, he examined his lunch without enthusiasm - milk tea and a sandwich, a poor substitute for the coffee he once enjoyed before the new nurse deemed it inappropriate for his condition. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Turning away from the unappetizing meal, his attention was caught by something new on his bedside table - a book that hadn''t been there before. The cover resembled those popular magic academy novels, its surface gleaming with an unusual sheen. "Did she leave this here?" he wondered, stepping closer to examine it.


    As his hand reached for the mysterious volume, something extraordinary happened. Before he could even read the title, the book erupted in a brilliant display of light. The radiance swirled and expanded, growing increasingly intense until it engulfed the entire room. When the light finally dimmed seconds later, both Li Mingzhe and the book had vanished without a trace.


    The silence that followed was shattered by the nurse bursting through the door. "What happened?" she called out, her voice tinged with alarm. Taking in the empty room and the open space where her patient should have been, she immediately assumed the worst. Her hand slammed against the large red emergency button on the wall, her mind jumping to the conclusion that he must have somehow jumped from the window - completely unaware of what had just transpired.


    ...


    Sunlight streamed through tall windows into a chamber vast enough to rival a classroom, illuminating luxurious furnishings that surrounded a magnificent bed. Among the silk sheets and plush pillows lay a teenage boy, his youthful features suggesting he was no older than twenty. Li Mingzhe''s peaceful slumber gradually transformed into visible distress - his brow furrowing, fingers twitching against the sheets, face contorting in an unseen struggle. After what seemed like an eternity compressed into seconds, his expression finally softened, and his eyes fluttered open.


    "What happened?" he muttered, one hand rising to clutch his throbbing head. Suddenly, memory flooded back like a tidal wave. "That''s right! The book!" He jerked upright, eyes darting to his bedside table, only to find an unfamiliar, ornately carved surface where his hospital furniture should have been. The realization hit him like a physical force - this wasn''t his sterile hospital room.


    "A dream?" he wondered aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious chamber. With deliberate movements, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet finding impossibly soft sandals. "Nice stuff," he mused, momentarily distracted by the luxurious fur that caressed his ankles, before forcing his mind back to the pressing matter at hand.


    The sensation was too vivid, too detailed to be a mere dream. His heart began to race as a possibility he''d only encountered in novels surfaced in his mind. Could it be? Had he actually achieved what countless protagonists in his beloved stories had experienced? Transmigration - the act of crossing into another world - had been his secret wish, a desperate hope during lonely hospital nights. Had some deity finally heard his prayers?


    Making his way to an ornate full-length mirror beside a massive wardrobe, Mingzhe studied his reflection intently. His enhanced vision picked up subtle differences that ordinary eyes would miss - a barely perceptible glow to his skin, a slight alteration in his features that suggested this body, while similar, wasn''t quite his own. Yet disappointment settled heavy in his stomach as he lifted his arms, feeling the same weakness that had plagued him in his previous life. Even in this new world, this new body, he remained shackled by illness. The irony of being trapped in another weak vessel wasn''t lost on him, "It seems I can''t be cured even in two lifetimes..."


    His self-examination was interrupted by voices drifting from the hallway, remarkably clear despite the distance. "Master, why do you keep looking after this kid? You and I both know there''s no cure for the Weak Body physique," a younger voice complained.


    "Hmph! What do you know?" came the sharp retort of an elderly man. "The Rothschild family has always had one heir in each generation since ancient times. Do you think they''d let their history worth a few thousand years end just like that?"


    "But why do they always have one heir?" the younger voice persisted.


    "Don''t ask what you shouldn''t," the elder snapped with unmistakable authority.


    Mingzhe''s mind raced as he processed this information. "One heir?" he pondered, but an even more startling realization struck him - he could hear their conversation with perfect clarity from what must have been a considerable distance. Had his transmigration enhanced not just his already exceptional vision, but his hearing as well?


    Before he could explore this new development, the chamber door swung open with a commanding presence. An elderly man stood in the entrance, his bearing dignified and controlled, with a younger assistant hovering anxiously behind him. The old man''s eyes locked with Mingzhe''s, and for a brief moment, surprise flickered across his professional facade before being swiftly masked.


    "The young master has woken up!" he announced, his voice carrying the weight of significance. "Quickly, go tell the lord!" The assistant, still visibly stunned and lacking his master''s composure, took a moment to process the command before turning and rushing away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

 Chapter 2: The House of Rothschilds [PART 1]

    Chapter 2: The House of Rothschilds [PART 1]With practiced care, the elderly man approached Li Mingzhe''s bedside, his movements deliberate and gentle as he helped the young man into a sitting position. The morning light cast long shadows across the luxurious chamber as the physician reached for his belt pouch. "How are you feeling?" he inquired, his voice carrying the professional warmth of someone who had spent decades tending to patients. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mingzhe''s enhanced senses caught something peculiar - as the man withdrew a notebook and pen from his pouch, the fabric remained perfectly still, as if the items had simply materialized rather than being physically removed. The oddity sent his mind racing with possibilities. Could this be confirmation that magic existed in this world? But even more intriguing was the inexplicable pull he felt toward the pouch itself.


    Drawing from countless novels he''d read during his hospital confinement, Mingzhe wondered if the sensation indicated the presence of some legendary medicine - the kind of mystical panacea that naturally attracted those in need of healing. His analytical mind was already forming theories when he realized the physician awaited his response.


    "Same as usual," he answered cautiously, acutely aware that he lacked any memories from this body''s previous occupant. The words had barely left his lips when a mechanical voice resonated through his consciousness: [Initializing merge!]


    The pain struck without warning - sharp, overwhelming, like lightning coursing through his skull. His scream echoed off the chamber walls as he doubled over, fingers clutching desperately at his head. The physician moved quickly to steady him, but Mingzhe was beyond comfort, his body twisting and turning on the floor as waves of agony crashed through him.


    Recognizing the severity of the situation, the old man acted decisively. He extended his arm, placing weathered fingers gently against Mingzhe''s temple. "Sleep," he intoned, the word carrying power beyond its simple meaning. A soft green aura materialized around Mingzhe''s head, and consciousness fled instantly, his features relaxing as the pain released its hold.


    With surprising strength for his age, the physician carefully lifted Mingzhe''s limp form and placed him back on the bed, adjusting the pillows with the expertise of one who had performed such tasks countless times before. His expression betrayed a hint of concern as he studied his young patient''s now-peaceful face, not understanding what had just occurred.


    ...


    The physician had just finished settling Mingzhe onto the plush bedding when the chamber door burst open, the heavy wood swinging wide to reveal three figures silhouetted in the doorway. The sudden interruption sent ripples of tension through the previously quiet room.


    Leading the group was the physician''s assistant, his nervous energy palpable as he ushered in two of the most powerful figures in the kingdom. Friedrich Rothschild entered with the easy confidence of one born to power, his middle-aged features carrying both the weight of authority and natural charisma that marked him as the current head of the illustrious Rothschild family. Beside him stood his wife, Victoria Rothschild - formerly of the Lancaster nobility, a family whose prestige, while not quite matching the Rothschilds, still commanded significant respect in aristocratic circles.


    The contrast between husband and wife was striking. While Friedrich maintained his aristocratic composure, Victoria was a portrait of maternal panic. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing labored as she practically materialized at her son''s bedside, her noble bearing forgotten in her rush to reach him. Her hand clasped her son''s limp fingers as words tumbled out in desperate succession: "Ambrose, are you awake? Mom is here! How are you feeling?"


    The silence that answered her questions transformed her worry into rage. She turned on the physician, her elegant features twisting into something dangerous. Before she could speak, the old man raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Relax, he was having a headache so I put him to sleep using magic. He should be waking up soon."


    His words, meant to calm, only stoked the flames of her anger. "You used magic on him?" Her voice rose sharply, power beginning to radiate from her form. "You know he has the Weak Body physique, but you still dare to use magic on him?" Her eyes blazed with ethereal blue light, her feet lifting from the ground as ancient power stirred within her. "It seems people have forgotten my name since I left the front lines," she declared, the air around her crackling with barely contained energy.


    A firm hand on her shoulder halted her ascent. Without turning, knowing her husband''s touch, she pleaded, "Dear, are you really going to let him harm our son?"


    Friedrich''s response was cold and precise: "You''re the one harming our son by using magic here." The truth in his words hit her like a physical blow. Horror replaced rage as she dropped back to the ground, her power dissipating instantly as she frantically checked her son for signs of damage from her magical display.


    "Besides," Friedrich continued, his expression shifting to something predatory as he regarded the physician, "sleep magic only lasts one hour. Even accounting for Ambrose''s Weak Body physique, it''ll take no more than two hours." His smile turned cruel, carrying the weight of generations of noble authority. "If he doesn''t wake up by then, it won''t be too late to slaughter his entire family as tribute to my son."


    Victoria''s own expression mirrored her husband''s wickedness as they both fixed their gaze on the physician. The assistant trembled visibly at the threat, but the old doctor maintained his composed exterior through years of professional discipline. Inside, however, his thoughts raced with mounting horror. What had begun as a simple opportunity to earn additional funding for his research had somehow spiraled into a life-or-death situation for his entire family. ''How could I forget that these two are...'' The thought trailed off as he contemplated the notorious reputation of the couple before him.


    ...


    In an absolute void devoid of light or sensation, Mingzhe''s consciousness drifted like a leaf in an invisible wind. The boundaries between existence and non-existence blurred as he floated, stripped of all physical feeling. A fleeting thought crossed his mind - had his Weak Body Physique finally claimed him? The thought gave him pause. Weak Body Physique? What was that? And who was Ambrose? He was Li Mingzhe... wasn''t he?


    Foreign memories began cascading through his mind like a digital download, each one carrying fragments of another life. As the torrent of information finally settled, a mechanical voice echoed in his consciousness: [Merge complete! Restarting...]


    But Mingzhe barely registered the notification, too absorbed in processing his newfound identity. He was now Ambrose Rothschild, sole heir to one of the most powerful families in the Avaloria Kingdom. His parents, Friedrich and Victoria Rothschild, weren''t merely nobles - they were the nobility that other nobles aspired to be. The common saying rang in his borrowed memories: "There are noble families, and then there are the Roths." Their dukedom wielded military might that rivaled even the royal family''s power.


    While his original family had been wealthy by Earth''s standards, they were mere commoners compared to the Rothschilds'' influence. He had indeed reached the heavens in a single leap - if only his body wasn''t still as frail as paper.


    [Restart Complete!] The mechanical voice interrupted his musings, and suddenly, a diminutive figure materialized before him. She was fairy-like, roughly the size of a smartphone, with luminescent blue wings and matching attire. Despite her radiant glow, the surrounding darkness remained impenetrable, as if rejecting light itself.


    The fairy circled him with analytical precision, her expression growing increasingly troubled. [Hm, what if I... No, that wouldn''t work,] she muttered in her static-tinged feminine voice, seemingly oblivious to his presence. [What do I do now?]


    Mingzhe waved his hand before her face, finally catching her attention. [What do you want, human? I''m trying to think here,] she snapped with fairy-sized arrogance. Suddenly, her expression brightened with inspiration. [Hm, that could work!]


    Without warning, she darted forward, placing her tiny hands on his forehead. [Human, today is your lucky day. I don''t usually give gifts like this, but consider it your good fortune.] A brilliant blue light emanated from his head, and upon seeing her "gift" take effect, the fairy spoke hastily, [Seeing as you have accepted the gift, in accordance with the contract, I''m free!] Before he could respond, she vanished into the darkness.


    "What was that?" he wondered, struggling to process the whirlwind encounter. As if in response, a translucent blue interface materialized before him, displaying his status in precise detail:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent)]


    [Talent: Observation, Space-time]


    [Health: 1/1 (Tip: 90% chance to trip and fall to your death)]


    [Mana: 0/0]


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Intelligence: 15+ (Average 5)]


    [Stat Points: 100]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: These are the worst stats this system has ever seen, apart from the divine Space-time Talent, everything else is useless. But even with the talent, without any mana, it is almost impossible to ever use this divine talent so let''s not even talk about it. Even with the given free stat points, you can only reach the level of a 1 in 10 genius, and that''s only if you distribute it equally but looking at your weak body, it''ll be IMPOSSIBLE to increase any other stat apart from intelligence.]

 Chapter 3: The House of Rothschilds [PART 2]

    Chapter 3: The House of Rothschilds [PART 2]Victoria paced around her son''s bed with the restless energy of a caged lioness, her path creating an invisible groove in the expensive carpet. Every few circuits, she would pause to glare at the ornate wall clock, then direct a murderous gaze at the physician before resuming her anxious patrol. Friedrich, in stark contrast, remained perfectly still, his unwavering attention fixed on his son''s unconscious form as if trying to will him awake through sheer paternal determination.


    Suddenly, Friedrich''s eyes blazed with golden light. "He''s woken up," he announced, his voice carrying absolute certainty. The room''s occupants barely had time to register their surprise before Ambrose began stirring, his body slowly rising to a sitting position as he clutched his head.


    When he opened his eyes, the sight was extraordinary. His left eye radiated an ethereal blue glow, containing what appeared to be an actual star suspended in its depths - perfectly formed but eerily static. His right eye shone with golden brilliance, housing the image of a motionless clock. The dichotomy of his eyes created an almost hypnotic effect, as if one was gazing into two different aspects of the universe itself.


    Friedrich''s response was immediate and overwhelming. His own golden eyes intensified, revealing spinning clock faces within their depths. A wave of golden energy pulsed outward from him, expanding to fill the entire chamber before settling into an invisible barrier. As it took hold, time itself seemed to freeze, creating a pocket of absolute stillness.


    Not to be outdone, Victoria''s eyes erupted with celestial blue light, revealing rotating stars that seemed more vibrant and real than those in her son''s gaze. Unlike her husband''s all-encompassing temporal field, she created a more focused barrier that enveloped only the area around the bed, encompassing their small family while leaving the others frozen in Friedrich''s time-lock.


    Ambrose, still adjusting to consciousness, watched this display of power with carefully concealed awe. His inherited memories had hinted at his parents'' strength, but witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different matter. Their presence felt like that of ancient dragons to his ant-like existence - beings so far beyond his comprehension that the mere concept of measurement seemed laughable.


    Fear crept into his thoughts as he wondered if they had somehow detected his true nature. Had they discovered that their son''s body now housed a different soul? Before his anxiety could spiral further, Victoria shattered the tension in the most unexpected way - by launching herself at him with a mother''s unbridled joy, her words dissolving into happy, unintelligible sounds of relief.


    Friedrich, displaying a surprising degree of familiarity with his wife''s behavior, smoothly detached her from their son and set her aside with the practiced ease of someone handling an overexcited kitten. He knew from experience that she would never calm down otherwise.


    When Friedrich turned back to face his son, Ambrose noticed something that sent relief flooding through his system - a faint blush coloring his father''s usually composed features. "It seems I haven''t been exposed," he thought, carefully maintaining his exterior calm while internally sighing with relief.


    ...


    Friedrich cleared his throat deliberately, drawing his son''s attention. "Do you understand what just happened?" he asked, his tone carrying the weight of generations of noble authority. Ambrose could only stare back, his mind racing to find an appropriate response from his borrowed memories.


    Seeing his son''s confusion, Friedrich abandoned subtlety. "You just awakened your second talent," he stated plainly. "Although awakening a second talent isn''t impossible, it doesn''t commonly happen." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.


    Victoria, having regained her composure, interjected with motherly enthusiasm. "It seems this talent awakening has relieved some of the restrictions of the Weak Body Physique," she observed, her trained eyes assessing her son''s condition. "You should be able to at least move around freely now." Her words carried both hope and carefully measured excitement. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Friedrich''s booming laugh suddenly filled the chamber. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Who says my son has ordinary talent?" His voice swelled with paternal pride. "And from the looks of it, you''ve inherited both my time and your mother''s space talent..." His voice trailed off as the full implications of his words sank in. He exchanged a loaded glance with Victoria, their expressions shifting to something more complex and uneasy.


    Before Ambrose could question their sudden change in demeanor, Victoria materialized at his side. With gentle fingers, she touched his face, and the supernatural glow in his eyes faded, returning to their natural brown. "Son, we have something to discuss so we won''t be spending any more time with you," she said, her voice carefully controlled. "Also, don''t tell anyone about your second talent awakening." The warning in her tone was unmistakable.


    As the spatial and temporal barriers dissolved, the frozen world resumed its natural flow. The physician''s eyes widened with realization, but one look at the noble couple''s expressions convinced him to hold his tongue.


    Friedrich turned to the physician, his voice now cold and formal. "My son has recovered. Thanks for your help. I won''t be escorting you back." The dismissal was crystal clear.


    The physician, well-versed in noble politics, caught the underlying message. "Then I''ll be taking my leave. Thanks for having me," he responded smoothly, while internally noting the irony of being treated like an intruder after being summoned for help.


    "Wait!" Friedrich''s command froze the physician mid-step. "I would appreciate it if you forgot everything that happened here and anything you think you saw."


    Without turning, the physician replied with practiced casualness, "What are you talking about? I just came to borrow some money for my research but it seemed you were busy so I didn''t dare disturb you."


    "Good," Friedrich''s approval carried both satisfaction and warning.


    Victoria placed a tender kiss on her son''s forehead before embracing Friedrich from behind. A flash of blue light enveloped them, and they vanished as if they''d never existed, leaving only disturbed air in their wake.


    Ambrose sat alone in the suddenly empty room, his mind whirling with questions. "What just happened? Who am I? Where am I?"

 Chapter 4: The House of Rothschilds [PART 3]

    Chapter 4: The House of Rothschilds [PART 3]In a vast hall adorned with centuries of Rothschild grandeur, Friedrich and Victoria stood alone, their presence filling the enormous space. Ancient tapestries and gleaming armor lined the walls, silent witnesses to countless secret conversations between the realm''s most powerful couple.


    "How''s the situation on the front lines?" Victoria asked, her voice carrying the weight of someone who once commanded armies herself.


    Friedrich''s expression darkened. "It''s not getting any better," he replied, fatigue evident in his usually commanding voice. "We also have to keep an eye on the empire. They''re expanding their influence in the kingdom." His fingers traced absent patterns on the ornate armrest of his chair.


    "Did the king say anything?" Victoria''s eyes narrowed, already anticipating the answer.


    "Yes, but not really. Just the usual political statements." Friedrich''s dismissive tone spoke volumes. "I''m guessing he wants to use this situation to weaken the strength of those noble houses." The implication hung heavy in the air - their king was playing a dangerous game of noble politics while external threats loomed.


    Victoria nodded in understanding before her expression shifted to something more personal, more concerned. "About Ambrose..." she began, as their respective barriers expanded - her spatial shield and his temporal wall creating an impenetrable pocket of privacy.


    ...


    Meanwhile, in a marble-lined bathhouse that could have easily housed a small party, Ambrose sat in steaming water while a maid attended to him. Despite his discomfort at the intimate situation, it wasn''t his first time being cared for by others and thus had somewhat desensitized him to such assistance.


    He carefully studied the maid who was helping him bathe. His enhanced senses picked up details that would have escaped ordinary notice.


    The maid was far from ordinary. Her short black hair framed features that were more handsome than traditionally beautiful, and beneath her seemingly delicate appearance lay carefully concealed strength. Well-defined muscles rippled subtly beneath her skin with each movement, betraying years of training. But what truly caught Ambrose''s attention was the shocking revelation - he had seen her face before, on the cover of the mysterious book that had brought him to this world.


    His mind raced with possibilities. In his extensive reading of novels, cover characters were typically either protagonists or their closest allies, occasionally featuring the main antagonist. The fact that this maid appeared on the cover while Ambrose - the heir to one of the most powerful families - did not, sent warning bells ringing through his mind.


    Drawing from countless similar stories, he constructed a likely scenario: in the original plot, Ambrose was probably an arrogant young master who mistreated this talented but hidden maid until she eventually discovered her power, escaped to a magic academy, and returned for revenge - a classic tale of the oppressed rising against their oppressor.


    "Young master?" The maid''s nervous voice broke through his analysis, her discomfort at his prolonged stare evident.


    "Oh! It''s nothing, I was just spacing out," he replied smoothly, while his mind continued plotting. If she was indeed destined for greatness, cultivating her favor now, before she discovered her true potential, could prove invaluable. "What''s your name?" he asked, carefully crafting a gentle smile that would have fooled anyone who couldn''t read the calculating thoughts behind it.


    In his mind, pieces were already falling into place. The original Ambrose''s constant unconsciousness had inadvertently prevented the typical young master tragedy from unfolding. Now, with his modern knowledge and careful manipulation, he could turn this potential enemy into a powerful ally - assuming his deductions were correct. The game of politics and survival had begun, and he intended to play it perfectly.


    ...


    Sun Hualing stood nervously before her young master, fighting back an involuntary shiver. What he probably thought was a kind smile reminded her more of a predator eyeing its prey - a butcher''s smile directed at a helpless rabbit. She quickly shook away such unsettling thoughts. After all, she maintained a rigorous training regimen despite not having awakened any talents yet. The young master was known for his weakness, so her fears were surely unfounded... right?


    Gathering her composure, she introduced herself with practiced grace, "My name is Sun Hualing, written with the Sun (Ëï) for my surname, and my given name uses the characters Hua (»ª) for ''splendid'' and Ling (Áá) for ''bell.''" Her bow was precise, betraying years of formal training that seemed at odds with her current position.


    Ambrose''s analytical mind immediately latched onto the peculiarities of her name. The Eastern naming convention echoed his original world''s Chinese customs - a stark contrast to the Avaloria Kingdom''s Western-style nomenclature. For a moment, he entertained the possibility that she might be a fellow transmigrator, but quickly dismissed it as too coincidental. While such names were rare in the kingdom, they weren''t unheard of, particularly among those from the Empire.


    Yet something about her bearing didn''t align with Imperial origins either. It wasn''t like he''d seen any people from the empire anyway, he just assumed that they''d look asian because of the names.


    Her introduction carried the polish of nobility, despite her current station. His mind crafted various scenarios: a noble from a fallen house? No, the Empire''s social structure didn''t mirror the kingdom''s noble system. A runaway princess escaping an arranged marriage? He studied her features - her handsome countenance might seem princely now, but he could envision her in royal regalia and longer hair, cutting quite the striking figure.


    "Young master?" Her voice pulled him from his reverie once again. It was the second time she had caught him staring. He hoped she didnt think he was weird.


    "Ah, it''s my first time hearing a name like that. Where are you from?" he probed gently. His enhanced perception caught the minute tensing of her shoulders, the barely perceptible shift in her stance - clear signs of discomfort with the question.


    Her obvious reluctance to reveal her origins only fueled his curiosity. While his observations suggested she wasn''t a spy, her presence in the Rothschild household raised questions. How had someone so obviously out of place been accepted into such a security-conscious family?


    How could his father let such a suspicious person near his son? Or did his father know something about her true identity and just didn''t care? If that was the case, then it would mean that at least she wasn''t an immediate threat.


    Recognizing that pushing too hard might backfire, Ambrose softened his approach. "You don''t have to say if you don''t want to," he offered graciously.


    "Young master..." she began, fingers clutching at her dress for courage. "Actually... I..."


    Before she could continue, Ambrose pressed a finger gently to her lips, offering a disarming smile. "It''s okay, you can tell me when you''re ready." The intimate gesture and gentle words sent blood rushing to her cheeks, earning a vigorous nod from the flustered maid.


    Seizing the moment, Ambrose pressed his advantage. "From now on, you''ll be my personal maid, okay?" He watched as she nodded automatically, too overwhelmed to fully process what she''d agreed to.


    Ambrose suppressed a satisfied smirk. He''d secured a potentially powerful piece for his game board. With proper guidance, her eventual awakening could prove invaluable to his survival. Even though he had his family guards to protect him, they were just loyal to his father.


    It was also good to have his own people and he planned to start with her. "Speaking of awakening..." the thought of awakening triggered another memory, and as he stepped from the bath, he called out: "Status." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 5: Stat Points

    Chapter 5: Stat PointsFresh from his bath, Ambrose sat cross-legged on his bed, a plush towel wrapped securely around his slender frame. Droplets of water still clung to his hair, occasionally falling onto the silk sheets beneath him. The afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows cast a warm glow across the room, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere as he concentrated on examining his status window:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent)]


    [Talent: Observation, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100 (Tip: Can at least take a punch, from a five year old that is)]


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)] S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Intelligence: 15+ (Average 5)]


    [Stat Points: 100]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: Your stats seem to have improved a little since last time but you''re still trash. Seeing as you''ll probably never awaken mana, I did you the favor of removing it from your stats panel. No need to thank me :)]


    A slight frown creased his brow as he studied the translucent blue interface hovering before him. He had noticed some changes earlier in the bathhouse, but the presence of Sun Hualing had prevented him from conducting a thorough examination. Now, in the privacy of his chambers, he could finally analyze everything properly.


    The first thing that caught his attention was the conspicuous absence of his mana stat. The system''s sarcastic overview made it clear this wasn''t an oversight ¨C it had been deliberately removed due to his apparent inability to awaken magical power. Ambrose''s lips twitched in mild annoyance at the system''s mocking tone. The more he interacted with it, the more he suspected it possessed some form of consciousness, given its penchant for playful ridicule through its overview messages.


    However, his irritation was balanced by a surge of relief as he noticed his health. The dramatic increase from a pitiful 1/1 to a respectable 100/100 indicated significant improvement in his physical condition. Yet, as he focused on the sensation of his body, an inexplicable intuition told him he''d reached a plateau. It was as if he could sense an invisible barrier, a ceiling that would prevent further improvement without some dramatic intervention. Unless something unexpected occurred, this would likely be his new baseline for the foreseeable future.


    His other physical stats remained disappointingly unchanged ¨C strength, stamina, and agility all hovering at a mere 0.1, far below the average of 5. But what truly captured his interest was the newly discovered skills section. There, he found something intriguing:


    [Observer''s Intuition](Intrinsic) - A natural talent that enhances the user''s cognitive and sensory processing abilities, allowing for superior information gathering and analysis. This talent manifests differently in each individual, growing stronger with active use and training. (Subskills: [Heightened Perception](C), [Detail Retention](D), [Pattern Recognition](C), [Focus State](D))


    The skill''s description perfectly explained his enhanced sensory capabilities. As he pondered this, memories of his previous life surfaced ¨C he had possessed exceptional perception then too, but nothing approaching his current supernatural awareness. The systematic nature of the skill, with its clearly defined subskills and rankings, marked it as something fundamentally different from his former abilities. It could be said that his former abilities were the teaser and this was the real deal.


    Finally, Ambrose turned his attention to what he''d been unconsciously avoiding: the hundred stat points waiting to be allocated. While the number seemed substantial, the system''s earlier overview had suggested that even distributing them equally would only elevate him to the level of a "one in ten genius" ¨C merely slightly above average.


    His fingers hovered over the interface as he contemplated his options, though in truth, there was no real choice to make. With his Weak Body Physique restricting physical improvement, intelligence was his only viable path forward.


    Although he could probably increase the other stats after curing his Weak Body Physic, he didn''t think it was worth it. If even someone like his father couldn''t find the cure, he''d have to be invincible to find the cure which at that time, the few stats would be worthless


    With a resigned sigh, Ambrose closed his eyes and channeled all hundred points into intelligence. Despite knowing it was his only option, watching such a substantial resource disappear into a single stat left him with a profound sense of waste. Who knew when he would next have the opportunity to gain stat points? Still, he consoled himself with the knowledge that in his current situation, intelligence might prove to be his most valuable asset.


    ...


    No sooner had the last stat point been allocated than a cascade of system notifications began flooding Ambrose''s consciousness. Each notification rang with crystal clarity, like bells chiming directly inside his mind:


    [Ding! Your Intelligence has surpassed 20. You can now use mana]


    [Ding! Due to lack of sufficient stamina you can''t use mana (Tip: You need at least 1 stamina to use mana)]


    [Ding! Your intelligence has surpassed 50. You can now use mental strength]


    [Ding! Your intelligence has surpassed 100. Your mental strength has increased significantly]


    [Ding! Your mental strength resonates greatly with your Observation and Space-time talent]


    [Ding! Attempting to awaken the [ULTIMATE SKILL: MIND LORD]]


    The notifications continued relentlessly, each one seeming to reverberate through his entire being. His eyes widened as he watched the system struggle with an awakening attempt:


    [ERROR: Awakening failed]


    [RETRYING...]


    [FAILED x 10000]


    [ERROR: Not enough stamina to awaken MIND LORD (Tip: You need at least 200 stamina to awaken [ULTIMATE SKILL: MIND LORD])]


    Ambrose barely had time to process his disappointment before new notifications appeared:


    [Ding: Your intelligence has surpassed 110. Awakening Space-time related skill]


    [ERROR: Awakening failed due to lack of stamina]


    [WARNING: Space-time talent attempts to use mental strength to awaken the skill forcefully (Tip: Using mental strength as a substitute for stamina is DANGEROUS and could cause irreversible damage)]


    [The host should confirm the use of mental strength to forcefully awaken a Space-time related skill]


    The stream of notifications suddenly halted as a massive interface materialized before him, hovering in the air like a translucent screen. Two buttons appeared: "Yes" glowing with an alluring blue light on one side, and "No" pulsing with a cautionary red on the other. The towel around his waist had loosened during his earlier convulsions, but Ambrose barely noticed, transfixed by the momentous choice before him.


    Before he could even lift a finger to make his selection, new notifications began appearing with alarming urgency:


    [Observation votes YES]


    [Space-time votes YES]


    [Due to majority vote. The awakening will begin...]


    "Wait what?" Ambrose''s cry of protest echoed through his chamber, but it was already too late. Pain exploded in his head like a supernova, exponentially more intense than the earlier memory merger. It felt as if someone had taken a white-hot needle and was systematically piercing every nerve in his brain. His vision blurred, then darkened at the edges as consciousness began slipping away.


    Yet even as his body crumpled onto the silk sheets, the system continued its relentless process:


    [ERROR: Not enough mental strength to fully awaken a Space-time related skill]


    [Awakening an Observation related skill with time essence...]


    [Ding! Awakened [UNIQUE SKILL: MATHEMATICIAN]]


    In the final moments before darkness claimed him completely, Ambrose caught a glimpse of his newest acquisition:


    [Mathematician](Unique) - A rare talent that fundamentally alters the mind''s processing capabilities, granting exceptional mental powers and analytical abilities that transcend normal human limitations. (Subskills: [Rational Mind](S), [Mental Fortress](A), [Perfect Recall](A), [Thought Acceleration](A), [Time Perception](B))


    His consciousness faded just as he began to grasp the implications of this extraordinary skill. The last thing he felt was a curious sensation, as if his mind was being completely restructured, rewired into something far beyond ordinary human comprehension. Then, mercifully, everything went black.

 Chapter 6: Sun Hualing

    Chapter 6: Sun HualingIn an absolute void devoid of light or sensation, Ambrose''s consciousness drifted like a leaf in an invisible wind. The boundaries between existence and non-existence blurred as he floated, stripped of all physical feeling. Neither warmth nor cold touched him; even the concept of direction seemed meaningless in this formless space. His very thoughts felt distant, as if they belonged to someone else, yet paradoxically remained crystal clear.


    The murky darkness surrounding him seemed alive, actively pulling him deeper into its endless depths. Each moment brought him further from the surface of consciousness, dragging him toward what he instinctively knew was a point of no return. Yet despite the dire situation, an unnatural calm pervaded his being. The serenity felt almost artificial in its perfection, and a small part of him marveled at his own composure in the face of such otherworldly peril.


    Through the fog of disconnection, one thought burned with clarity: if he surrendered to this descent, he might never wake again. Was this the price of forcing an awakening through mental strength alone? The system''s warning about "irreversible damage" echoed in his mind with new significance. A bitter laugh would have escaped his lips if he still had any ¨C he hadn''t even consented to this awakening in the first place.


    The memory of those fateful system notifications floated through his mind:


    [Observation votes YES]


    [Space-time votes YES]


    The implications suddenly struck him with full force. How could talents possess the ability to vote? The very concept suggested a level of sentience that challenged everything he thought he knew about this world''s magic system. Yet, wasn''t there a certain logic to it? Talents weren''t mere tools or abilities ¨C they were integral parts of a person''s identity, fundamental elements that shaped one''s destiny. Even those who resented their talents couldn''t deny their defining influence on their lives.


    His analytical mind began spinning theories, temporarily forgetting the void''s pull in his intellectual excitement. Were talents perhaps the echoes of ancient heroes, their accumulated wisdom and power passed down through generations? Or could they be gifts from higher beings ¨C cosmic entities who granted mortals abilities for their own inscrutable purposes? He recalled stories from his previous world about constellations bestowing powers on mortals for entertainment. Could something similar be at work here?


    Mid-thought, Ambrose noticed something had changed. The oppressive darkness had transformed into a still, peaceful white expanse. A knowing smile would have graced his features if he''d had any in this formless state. "Just as I thought," he mused into the void. The principle was universal ¨C whether in water, quicksand, or apparently even metaphysical space, struggling against sinking only hastened one''s descent. By deliberately losing himself in intellectual speculation, he''d unknowingly achieved what direct resistance could not.


    Satisfied with his successful gambit, Ambrose let his consciousness drift peacefully in the white void. With the immediate danger passed, he allowed himself to relax, knowing his body awaited his return. As he closed off his awareness of this strange space, reality rushed back with startling suddenness ¨C and he found himself springing upright in his bed, very much alive and whole.


    ...


    Sun Hualing sat in a comfortable chair beside her young master''s bed, her posture perfect despite the hour. The soft glow of afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, casting gentle shadows across Ambrose''s sleeping form. She caught herself staring and quickly rationalized it ¨C she was here because it was her duty as his newly appointed personal maid, nothing more. Still, she couldn''t help but smile at how this position had saved her from the daily trials of the maids'' quarters.


    Her thoughts drifted to the countless cold shoulders and whispered insults she''d endured in those quarters, all because of her name''s origin. The Kingdom''s hatred for the Empire ran deep, though she knew the animosity flowed even stronger in the opposite direction. The memory of her earlier interaction with Ambrose surfaced ¨C that moment when he''d asked for her name. Her heart had clenched with familiar dread, and she''d briefly considered giving a false one.


    But that would have meant denying the name her mother gave her, rejecting a fundamental part of her identity. So she''d steeled herself and spoken it clearly, bracing for the inevitable reactions she''d seen countless times before: the curled lips of disgust, the deliberate turning of backs, or worst of all, the flash of murderous intent in previously friendly eyes. She''d grown used to living in what felt like a glass bubble, constantly observed and judged by those around her.


    Yet Ambrose had defied every expectation. His expression hadn''t changed, his gaze hadn''t hardened. He hadn''t pressed her about her origins or regarded her with suspicion. Instead, he''d offered her this position ¨C his first personal servant. In that moment, she''d felt the metaphorical glass bubble shatter, offering her first taste of true freedom in the Rothschild household.


    A soft smile played across her lips as she watched his peaceful sleeping face. Her previous identity might have balked at serving anyone, but Ambrose wasn''t just anyone. Her gaze lingered on his features, and a slight blush crept across her cheeks as she found herself admitting, "Now that I think about it, the young master is quite cute."


    Something shifted in her expression then, her gentle smile twisting into something more predatory. Her breathing grew heavy, taking on a distinctly unsettling rhythm. "When he sleeps quietly like that," she murmured, leaning forward slightly, her hands stretching toward his face. "As if nothing else in the world matters..." Her breath quickened further as she drew closer. "So... defenseless..." she practically purred, "Who can resist..."


    Just as her fingers were about to make contact, Ambrose''s eyes flew open and he shot upright in bed. The sudden movement sent Hualing stumbling backward several feet, her predatory demeanor vanishing instantly. Her face flushed crimson as the reality of what she''d been about to do crashed over her. "What was I doing?" she thought in mortified panic, hands flying up to cover her burning cheeks.


    Scrambling to her feet, she bowed deeply, desperate to escape the awkward situation. "I''ll go inform the lady that you''re awake," she blurted out before practically fleeing the room.


    Once outside, she pressed her back against the closed door, releasing a shaky sigh of relief. But her reprieve was short-lived. Standing before her was Victoria Rothschild, and the lady''s expression made it clear this was no casual encounter. "Lady Victoria, I..." Hualing began, but the words died in her throat as a shimmering barrier expanded from Victoria''s form, enveloping them both in an impenetrable dome of power.


    The young maid felt her heart sink as she realized there would be no easy escape from this conversation. Victoria''s presence seemed to fill the entire space, her power pressing down like a physical weight as she regarded her son''s new personal maid with unreadable eyes.


    ...


    All Stats:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent)]


    [Talent: Observation, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100 (Tip: Can at least take a punch, from a five year old that is)]


    [Mental Strength: 230/230]


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Intelligence: 115+ (Average 5)]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: ]


    Skills:


    [Observer''s Intuition](Intrinsic) - A natural talent that enhances the user''s cognitive and sensory processing abilities, allowing for superior information gathering and analysis. This talent manifests differently in each individual, growing stronger with active use and training. (Subskills: [Heightened Perception](C), [Detail Retention](D), [Pattern Recognition](C), [Focus State](D)) Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Heightened Perception](C) - A fundamental enhancement to the user''s basic sensory capabilities. Visual acuity is increased by 30%, allowing for clearer vision up to 50 meters and the ability to track faster movements. Hearing sensitivity is improved by 25%, making it possible to detect whispers from up to 15 meters away and better distinguish overlapping sounds. The sense of smell is slightly enhanced, allowing the user to distinguish between subtle scent variations and detect unusual odors in their environment.


    [Detail Retention](D) - Enhances the user''s ability to retain observed information with high accuracy. The user can perfectly recall visual information from the last 30 minutes, maintaining clarity of up to 50 specific details without confusion or mixing information. This ability particularly shines when remembering exact positions, expressions, or subtle changes in their surroundings, while also granting an enhanced ability to notice inconsistencies in remembered information.


    [Pattern Recognition](C) - Accelerates the brain''s ability to process and connect information in meaningful ways. The user processes visual patterns and sequences 40% faster than normal, easily spotting irregularities in behavior and environment that others might miss. This skill grants an improved capacity to link seemingly unrelated pieces of information, making it invaluable for investigative work and problem-solving scenarios.


    [Focus State](D) - Enables the user to maintain concentrated observation without succumbing to normal human limitations. The user can maintain unwavering attention for up to 15 minutes, with a 30% reduction in the impact of external distractions. This state also comes with a slight reduction in mental fatigue during observation tasks, allowing for longer periods of detailed investigation.


    [Mathematician](Unique) - A rare talent that fundamentally alters the mind''s processing capabilities, granting exceptional mental powers and analytical abilities that transcend normal human limitations. (Subskills: [Rational Mind](S), [Mental Fortress](A), [Perfect Recall](A), [Thought Acceleration](A), [Time Perception](B))


    [Rational Mind](S) - The pinnacle of logical processing, this ability maintains perfect clarity of thought regardless of circumstances. The user remains completely immune to emotional manipulation and can think clearly even under extreme stress or fear. The ability to separate emotions from decision-making becomes second nature, while also preventing mental breakdown in even the most traumatic situations, ensuring consistent rational thought processes.


    [Mental Fortress](A) - Creates an exceptionally strong defense system against mental interference. The user gains 85% resistance to hypnosis and mind control attempts, 70% resistance to illusion-based abilities, and 60% resistance to mental-type damage. The skill also grants enhanced recovery from mental fatigue, allowing the user to maintain peak mental performance for extended periods.


    [Perfect Recall](A) - Grants exceptional memory capabilities that go beyond simple photographic memory. The user gains perfect retention of all experienced events, with the ability to mentally organize and categorize memories efficiently. Most impressively, they can process and recall multiple streams of information simultaneously, making it invaluable for complex analysis and decision-making.


    [Thought Acceleration](A) - Dramatically enhances mental processing speed by a factor of 100. This massive acceleration allows for near-instantaneous analysis of situations, enhanced decision-making capabilities, and superior problem-solving abilities. Time seems to slow from the user''s perspective as their mind processes information at heightened speeds.


    [Time Perception](B) - Enhances the brain''s ability to process information in real-time. Users gain enhanced ability to track multiple events simultaneously, along with improved situational awareness and superior reaction time to observed events. This skill also grants better prediction of immediate outcomes, allowing the user to stay several steps ahead in any situation.

 Chapter 7: Crono Magic Academy [PART 1]

    Chapter 7: Crono Magic Academy [PART 1]Ambrose sat upright in his bed, struggling to catch his breath as waves of disorientation washed over him. His body felt foreign, as if he were piloting it from a great distance rather than inhabiting it naturally. Worse still was the overwhelming heat - his skin felt like it was on fire from within. With jerky movements that felt oddly disconnected, he thrashed against the heavy blanket covering him, desperately trying to throw it off.


    What happened next made his breath catch in his throat. The blanket moved, but in a way that defied normal perception. It drifted through the air with an impossible slowness, each fold and ripple clearly visible as it descended toward the floor. The sight was so jarring that Ambrose immediately called up his status panel, searching for answers:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent)]


    [Talent: Observation, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100 (Tip: Can at least take a punch, from a five year old that is)]


    [Mental Strength: 230/230] S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Intelligence: 115+ (Average 5)]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: You''ve made progress and awakened the rare mental strength stat. Don''t get me wrong, you''re still trash but now you can at least protect yourself. Well, somewhat since you''d be done for if it was a physical attack. But i still commend your hard work, as long as you work hard, you might actually become a Mind Lord. But knowing you, this will probably never happen :P]


    His eyes scanned his newly acquired skills with growing comprehension. The Mathematician skill was more than just good - it was extraordinary. Yet he noticed that many of its abilities seemed to be enhanced versions of his previous capabilities, lending credence to the system''s description of "awakening an observation type with time essence."


    With particular attention, he studied the time-related skills:


    [Thought Acceleration](A) - Dramatically enhances mental processing speed by a factor of 100. This massive acceleration allows for near-instantaneous analysis of situations, enhanced decision-making capabilities, and superior problem-solving abilities. Time seems to slow from the user''s perspective as their mind processes information at heightened speeds.


    [Time Perception](B) - Enhances the brain''s ability to process information in real-time. Users gain enhanced ability to track multiple events simultaneously, along with improved situational awareness and superior reaction time to observed events. This skill also grants better prediction of immediate outcomes, allowing the user to stay several steps ahead in any situation.


    The descriptions painted a clear picture of his current predicament. His brain was operating at such accelerated speeds that it had lost synchronization with his body''s natural rhythms. Combined with his abysmally low physical stats, this created a nightmarish disconnect between mind and body.


    With a heavy sigh, Ambrose closed his eyes and assumed a meditative position. He needed to recalibrate, to find a way for his enhanced consciousness to work in harmony with his physical form rather than against it. For two full hours, he remained perfectly still, focusing on aligning his accelerated thoughts with his body''s natural pace.


    Gradually, the feeling of displacement began to diminish. While the sensation of being slightly out of sync with his own body didn''t completely vanish, it became manageable enough that he no longer felt like he was piloting a malfunctioning puppet. He made a mental note that regular meditation would be necessary to maintain this delicate balance, especially if his intelligence continued to increase while his physical capabilities remained stagnant.


    As he slowly opened his eyes, they met an unexpected sight. His mother stood before him, her presence commanding as always, and behind her stood Hualing. The moment his gaze fell upon his new personal maid, she suddenly found the ceiling fascinatingly interesting, her eyes darting upward with almost comical speed - though to his enhanced perception, the movement seemed to unfold in luxurious slow motion.


    ...


    Victoria stood motionless as she watched her son meditate, torn between maternal concern and the necessity of letting him work through this crucial adjustment. Her fingers twitched occasionally, betraying her instinct to intervene, but she forced herself to remain still. Only after what felt like an eternity did she detect a subtle shift in his energy, followed by his eyes slowly opening.


    Her initial relief at seeing him awake quickly transformed into concern. A golden glow emanated from his right eye, signaling the advancement of his time-related abilities. While such progress would normally be cause for celebration, Victoria''s heart clenched with worry. Her son''s physical constitution was far too weak to properly contain such power - the talent might consume him entirely. The other thing was... Before she could fully process the implications, her train of thought was interrupted by his voice.


    "Mom..." Although it had felt strange to call them that way earlier, after inheriting the original owner''s memories, Ambrose himself marveled at how natural the word felt now. The inherited memories had bridged a gap he hadn''t even known existed, giving him, for the first time in either life, the experience of truly having parents.


    "It seems you''ve made some progress," Victoria said as she approached his bedside. "No wonder you were in a coma for a week."


    "Wait what? A week?" Ambrose''s eyes widened in surprise.


    "Yes, you''ve been unconscious for seven days," Hualing interjected, stepping forward with a hand mirror. "But that wasn''t the only change..."


    Before she could complete the gesture, Victoria smoothly interceded, pushing the maid aside as she materialized a full-length mirror with a casual wave of her hand. Ambrose caught the subtle interplay between the two women, noting the undercurrent of tension. He quickly dismissed the thought - surely Victoria Rothschild, former lady of the Lancaster family, wouldn''t engage in petty power plays with a mere maid. Right? Yet something in their interaction nagged at him but maybe he was just imagining it.


    His attention was suddenly captured by his reflection. With trembling fingers, he reached up to touch his hair, now a striking pure white. His mind raced through implications - in most stories he knew, white hair symbolized a depleted lifespan. Was this the "irreversible damage" the system had warned about? Yet he felt no physical deterioration. Before he could pursue that line of thought further, Victoria''s cool fingers pressed against his cheeks, just as they had before. Under her touch, the golden glow in his eye began to fade, though she couldn''t completely suppress it - a faint luminescence remained, defying her power.


    With another gesture, she vanished the mirror and conjured a chair, settling into it with noble grace. Her expression turned serious as she spoke. "Actually, this time I came to see you, but I also came to talk to you about something." Ambrose recognized the tone and he thought "Here it comes". She didn''t notice his change in expression and continued "Your father and I are planning something, and it might get a little dangerous, so we are thinking of having you enroll in the Crono Magic Academy for a while."


    The pieces began falling into place in Ambrose''s mind. His earlier theory about Hualing escaping to the academy after being bullied clearly needed revision. Before he could fully process this, Victoria continued, "But don''t worry, you won''t be alone. Hualing will also be enrolling with you, both as your maid and as your bodyguard."


    Ambrose glanced at Hualing, noting her lack of surprise at this announcement. She''d clearly been briefed beforehand. However, something still didn''t add up - if they were meant to attend the academy together, why had only she appeared on the book''s cover? While the butterfly effect and his earlier coma could explain it, Ambrose''s mind couldn''t resist crafting an alternative narrative: perhaps the original Ambrose had harbored feelings for Hualing, only to watch her fall for the story''s protagonist at the academy. This could have led to conflict, with Ambrose antagonizing the main character until eventual defeat drove Hualing firmly to the hero''s side.


    He almost chuckled at his own imagination - the scenario felt so plausible he''d nearly convinced himself. "I might have a future in writing," he mused, before his mother''s voice pulled him back to reality. The fact that he could engage in such detailed theorizing while maintaining a conversation testified to the extraordinary power of his new skills.


    Victoria reached into what appeared to be a tear in space itself, rummaging around as if searching through an invisible drawer. After several attempts, she withdrew a length of black cloth, her expression softening with satisfaction. "Since it will be hard to hide your Space-time talent, you can wear this treasure. Although it doesn''t have much use, it can be used to hide your aura." Her smile widened slightly as she added, "With this, even an S-ranked hero will have trouble finding you."


    Ambrose''s mind automatically catalogued the information - in this world, both people and monsters were ranked from F to S, with some mysterious ranks even beyond that. Heroes were those who protected humanity from monsters, while villains... Well, every story needed its antagonists.


    Victoria leaned forward, carefully wrapping the cloth around his eyes like a blindfold. Ambrose''s momentary confusion dissolved as he realized he could see through it perfectly - truly a remarkable treasure. As his mother once again materialized the mirror before him, he caught his reflection: pure white hair framing the elegant black blindfold. A sudden realization struck him with the force of lightning: "Wait... white hair... black blindfold... am I... The Honoured One?"

 Chapter 8: Crono Magic Academy [PART 2]

    Chapter 8: Crono Magic Academy [PART 2]Pressed against the closed door, Hualing released a shaky breath of relief - only to have it catch in her throat as she registered the figure standing before her. Victoria Rothschild''s presence filled the hallway with an almost physical weight, her expression making it clear this was no casual encounter.


    "Lady Victoria, I..." The words had barely left Hualing''s lips when a shimmering barrier expanded from Victoria''s form, enveloping them both in an impenetrable dome of power. The young maid watched nervously as Victoria glided toward her with predatory grace.


    "I wasn''t..." Hualing began defensively, but fell silent as Victoria''s fingers threaded through her hair with deceptive gentleness.


    "Little Hualing," Victoria cooed, her voice honey-sweet.


    "Yes!" Hualing responded, anxiety evident in her too-quick reply.


    "Do you like Ambrose?" The question hung in the air between them, seemingly innocent yet laden with hidden meaning.


    Hualing''s face flushed crimson as she stammered, "What? No way! I was just..." But Victoria cut off her protests with a gentle "It''s okay" before pulling the younger woman into an embrace.


    "Actually," Victoria confided, her voice warm and intimate, "your mother and I had already agreed to having the two of you engaged." She felt Hualing stiffen in surprise but continued smoothly, "But we are always being watched by the royal family, so it would be bad if a random person suddenly got engaged to Ambrose." Her fingers stroked soothing patterns on Hualing''s back as she explained, "That''s why I wanted you to be his maid. If you fell in love with each other, it wouldn''t be weird."


    Hualing''s face brightened with hope as she asked, "Really?"


    "Of course," Victoria assured her, before adding with calculated hesitation, "But there''s one problem."


    "What is it?" Hualing asked, concern immediately replacing her joy.


    Victoria sighed dramatically. "Actually, I want to send Ambrose to Crono Magic Academy. But I''m afraid he might be in danger."


    "Can''t you just send bodyguards?" Hualing suggested, her protective instincts already emerging.


    "We can, but the Academy has its own rules. It''ll be difficult to act inside the academy," Victoria explained. Another carefully timed sigh preceded her next words. "To be honest, I''m not afraid someone will attack Ambrose. It''s just that Ambrose is a naive child and may be tricked by some vixen in the academy." She paused, letting the implication sink in before continuing, "I was just hoping you could enroll in the academy together and keep him safe for me. Think of it as protecting your fianc¨¦."


    The word ''fianc¨¦'' had its intended effect - Hualing''s face bloomed scarlet as Victoria pressed her advantage: "You''ll do it, right?"


    "But... I''m from the empire. It''ll be hard for me to enroll," Hualing protested weakly.


    Victoria''s voice took on an edge of authority. "Don''t worry, have you forgotten who I am?" The confidence in her tone crushed any remaining resistance. "So, will you do it?"


    "Y-yes! I''ll do it," Hualing agreed, her voice trembling with emotion.


    Victoria maintained the embrace, and it was fortunate that Hualing couldn''t see her face. The older woman''s expression had transformed into something predatory, a smile that would have chilled the young maid to her core. "Oh! And one more thing..." she added casually.


    "Yes?"


    "Don''t tell Ambrose about anything we talked about, okay?"


    "Okay," Hualing agreed readily, still smiling in the embrace, completely unaware of the calculating expression above her head.


    Later, in the carriage bound for the academy, Hualing sat opposite Ambrose, unable to contain her joy. She kept stealing glances at him, smiling to herself as she recalled Victoria''s words. Each time Ambrose caught her staring, she would turn away with a giggle, only to resume her admiring gaze moments later. Her heart fluttered with each glance, her mind filled with dreams of their future together, completely oblivious to the web of manipulation in which she''d become entangled.


    ...


    Ambrose sat in the luxurious Rothschild carriage, a leather-bound book open in his lap more for show than actual reading. Though his mother had offered to teleport them directly to the academy, he had declined under the pretense of wanting to "look around." Now, as he lifted his eyes from the page for the hundredth time only to catch Hualing staring at him yet again, he was beginning to severely regret that decision.


    The moment their eyes met, Hualing quickly looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she pretended to find the passing scenery fascinatingly interesting. This had been happening with clockwork regularity throughout their journey, creating an atmosphere so thick with awkwardness it was almost suffocating. Ambrose found himself wondering what could have possibly happened to cause such a dramatic change in his usually composed personal maid''s behavior.


    Just as he was contemplating how to address the increasingly uncomfortable situation, fate intervened. The carriage lurched to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing him from his seat. Thanks to his enhanced perception, he managed to stabilize himself with a grace that belied his physical weakness. "Nice chance," he thought, immediately seizing the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere.


    As he stepped down from the carriage, he was promptly surrounded by nearly a dozen knights bearing the Rothschild crest on their polished armor. "Young master, please stay back!" one of them called out with evident concern.


    "What happened?" Ambrose inquired, his curiosity piqued. The knights parted their formation slightly, allowing him to see the source of the commotion - a broken-down carriage blocking the road ahead.


    Ignoring the worried protests of his guards, Ambrose approached the scene with measured steps. He couldn''t help but smile inwardly at the irony - he had chosen to travel by carriage precisely hoping to trigger some sort of event, as was common in the novels he''d read. Perhaps this was exactly what he''d been waiting for.


    As he drew closer, he observed two groups locked in a tense standoff. On one side stood the Rothschild knights, their armor gleaming with well-maintained perfection. Opposite them was a smaller group of what appeared to be private guards rather than proper knights, their equipment serviceable but lacking the same polish and grandeur.


    "Do you Rothschilds really consider yourselves untouchable?" The leader of the private guards called out, his white-knuckled grip on his sword betraying his anxiety despite his bold words.


    The Rothschild knights'' captain bristled at the perceived insult. "Do you dare to insult the Rothschild family?" he demanded, his hand moving to his weapon with deadly intent. The air crackled with tension as both sides teetered on the brink of violence.


    "What''s going on here?" Ambrose''s voice cut through the tension, his tone carrying an authority that belied his age. The effect was immediate - every Rothschild knight turned and bowed deeply, intoning in unison, "We pay respects to the young master." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The knights'' captain straightened first, gesturing dismissively at the broken carriage. "These trash from the Golden Compass Trading Company are blocking the young master''s path. Please allow me to get rid of them." The casual cruelty in his tone sent a chill through the air.


    The opposing captain''s face twisted in frustration as he processed his impossible situation. A simple clash between guards would have been one thing - both sides might suffer injuries, but nothing irreparable would come of it. However, with the confirmed presence of the Rothschild heir, any resistance would be interpreted as a direct challenge to one of the kingdom''s most powerful families. They were trapped, and he knew it.


    "Wait! Please let me explain myself to the young master!" A clear voice rang out from the broken carriage. All eyes turned to see a young woman emerge, her presence immediately commanding attention. While perhaps not qualifying as a legendary beauty, she possessed a striking allure. Her crimson hair caught the sunlight like liquid fire, and even from a distance, Ambrose could see eyes of matching intensity. His enhanced vision picked up every detail of her appearance with perfect clarity, from the quality of her traveling clothes to the subtle way she carried herself - clearly someone of significant status within the merchant company.

 Chapter 9: Crono Magic Academy [PART 3]

    Chapter 9: Crono Magic Academy [PART 3]Ambrose watched with calculated interest as the young woman made her approach, her steps graceful and measured despite being helped down from the carriage. A bright smile adorned her features as she drew near, only to be halted by the wall of Rothschild knights. With a casual gesture from Ambrose, the guards parted, allowing her to close the distance.


    She executed a perfect courtly bow, her voice melodious as she spoke, "It''s a pleasure to finally meet the renowned heir of the house of Rothschild. I''ve heard so much about you." Ambrose observed her carefully, his enhanced perception catching every minute detail of her performance. Her control was impressive - to tell such an obvious lie without the slightest change in expression spoke volumes about her merchant background. After all, what could she have possibly heard about him? To the outside world, he was merely the sickly Rothschild heir, barely worth mentioning except as an object of pity.


    But something else troubled him more deeply. Despite her well-acted surprise at his presence, his heightened senses detected an underlying preparedness in her manner. It was as if she''d been expecting him, though he wondered if perhaps he was reading too much into the situation.


    "You are..." he prompted, deliberately leaving the question hanging.


    A flicker of genuine surprise crossed her features before she quickly recovered. "Oh! Where are my manners? I am Adelaide Brightwell, my father is Maximilian Brightwell." She delivered the introduction with perfect poise, though Ambrose could detect the growing nervousness beneath her confident exterior as his blank stare made it clear the names meant nothing to him.


    The knight captain stepped forward, leaning close to whisper information in Ambrose''s ear. Armed with this new knowledge, Ambrose allowed a practiced smile to spread across his face. "Oh! So it''s Lady Adelaide. I''ve heard so much about you as well."


    He caught the slight tightening around her eyes - she clearly recognized his statement for the polite fiction it was. Outwardly, however, she maintained her pleasant demeanor. "The young master is exaggerating, you can speak casually with me," she offered.


    Ambrose kept his diplomatic smile firmly in place. "I don''t dare, Lady Adelaide." A slight frown marred her features at his continued formality. "Tch! It''s really hard to ride the coattails of someone powerful" she thought.


    "Then please call me Ada," she pressed, her smile warming. "Many people call me that way."


    "Alright. Lady Ada." He watched with hidden amusement as her lips twitched in barely concealed frustration.


    Changing tactics, she inquired, "Can I ask where the young master is headed?"


    The reaction was instant - the knight captain''s sword appeared at her throat, prompting her own guards to draw their weapons. "Don''t ask what you shouldn''t," the captain growled. But Ambrose waved him off, and the tension dissolved as quickly as it had emerged, both sides reluctantly sheathing their weapons.


    "We''re headed to the Crono Magic Academy," Ambrose stated openly, watching carefully as Adelaide feigned surprise. Her act might fool others, but his enhanced perception caught the millisecond delay in her reaction. This confirmed his suspicions - she was definitely targeting him. The real question was how the information about his enrollment had leaked. Could there be spies within the Rothschild mansion itself?


    "Oh! What a coincidence, I''m going there too," she exclaimed with manufactured delight. "Is it okay if I hitch a ride with you?" Her eyes met his directly, but Ambrose noticed the subtle tension in her posture, the barely perceptible anxiety she was trying to hide.


    Glancing at her guards, understanding dawned. A slight smile played across his lips as he responded, "Of course, but you''ll have to leave your guards." The subtle widening of her eyes told him his deduction had been correct - she was... (not telling ya lol)


    ...


    Adelaide''s composure faltered for just a moment at Ambrose''s condition, but she quickly recovered her poise. While she wondered if he''d noticed something suspicious, she dismissed the concern as irrelevant to her plans. Her guards, however, didn''t share her calm assessment of the situation, immediately shifting into combat stances with barely contained aggression.


    "I''ve been keeping up with you for a while now," the Rothschild knight captain''s voice cut through the tension before Adelaide could calm her men. His words carried the weight of accumulated grievances as he continued, "You blocked the young master''s path, and you keep drawing your weapons in front of the young master. Are you afraid I won''t get rid of you?" As he drew his sword, golden light erupted around the blade, its radiance a physical manifestation of his power.


    The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Adelaide''s guards collapsed to their knees, pressed to the ground by an invisible force so intense they could barely lift their heads. Their captain managed to raise his face just enough to glimpse their opponent, and what he saw made his blood run cold. The Rothschild knight captain''s figure seemed to tower before him like an insurmountable mountain, the gap in their strength so vast it defied comprehension.


    "Is this the strength of the Rothschilds?" he thought through gritted teeth as he transmitted a desperate message to his companions through their mental link: "The mission has failed! We''re pulling out for now!"


    Despite his enhanced mental capabilities, Ambrose only sensed vague disturbances in the ambient energy. Unable to detect anything concrete from the guards themselves, he filed the observation away for later consideration.


    Adelaide stepped forward, her voice carefully modulated as she pleaded, "Young master, the guards were worried about my safety and disrespected the young master. I hope the young master can show them mercy." She accompanied her words with a graceful bow, but Ambrose''s keen perception caught the complete lack of sincerity in her performance. Her true motives remained opaque, but her acting was becoming increasingly transparent to his enhanced senses.


    Intrigued by this ongoing deception, Ambrose gestured for the knight captain to release the guards. To his surprise, the captain remained unmoved. "I''m sorry young master! But I''m afraid I can''t do that!" The resolution in the knight''s voice was absolute.


    "And why is that?" Ambrose inquired, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.


    The captain''s response was immediate and passionate: "They have repeatedly shown disrespect to the young master. If we let them go just like that, what will people think of the house of Rothschild? And what will happen to me and my team who failed to protect the young master?" Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The other knights shifted nervously, and Ambrose could read the calculations running through their minds. If word of this incident reached his father, their positions would be forfeit. But if it reached his mother... they''d be fortunate to keep their lives. In their position, eliminating all witnesses was indeed the safest course of action. Better to risk the young master''s temporary displeasure than face Lady Victoria''s permanent wrath.


    As one, the knights drew their weapons, killing intent radiating from their forms as they advanced on the helpless guards. They didn''t wait for further orders ¨C their path was already set. What followed was a brutal display of efficiency as they systematically eliminated their defenseless opponents, still pinned beneath their captain''s overwhelming aura.


    Adelaide observed the massacre with an impassive expression, internally noting, "So these are the knights of Rothschild." Her complete lack of reaction to her guards'' slaughter was telling.


    Ambrose watched the scene unfold with similar detachment, his emotional state maintained by his extraordinary skills:


    [Mental Fortress](A) - Creates an exceptionally strong defense system against mental interference. The user gains 85% resistance to hypnosis and mind control attempts, 70% resistance to illusion-based abilities, and 60% resistance to mental-type damage. The skill also grants enhanced recovery from mental fatigue, allowing the user to maintain peak mental performance for extended periods.


    [Rational Mind](S) - The pinnacle of logical processing, this ability maintains perfect clarity of thought regardless of circumstances. The user remains completely immune to emotional manipulation and can think clearly even under extreme stress or fear. The ability to separate emotions from decision-making becomes second nature, while also preventing mental breakdown in even the most traumatic situations, ensuring consistent rational thought processes.


    These abilities allowed him to process the violence before him with clinical detachment, analyzing rather than reacting. Once their grim task was complete, the knights efficiently disposed of all evidence, their movements suggesting considerable experience with such cleanup operations.


    They then approached Ambrose as one, kneeling in supplication. "We ask the young master to punish us for defying orders," they intoned in perfect unison.


    Ambrose regarded them thoughtfully before sighing. "Forget it, let''s keep going," he said, turning toward his carriage with Adelaide following closely.


    "Thank you, young master!" the knights called out in unified gratitude.


    As they approached the carriage, Ambrose spoke casually, "Do you know what I hate most?"


    Adelaide, climbing in after him, was caught off guard by the sudden question. She couldn''t fathom why he''d initiate such a conversation now, but decided to play along. "No, I don''t! Please enlighten me, young master," she replied smoothly.


    The moment she fully entered the carriage, her world turned upside down. The maid she''d noticed earlier materialized behind her with supernatural speed, pressing a knife against her throat with deadly precision. From his seat opposite her, Ambrose''s voice carried a new edge of steel as he completed his thought: "I hate people who try to take advantage of me."

 Chapter 10: Crono Magic Academy [PART 4]

    Chapter 10: Crono Magic Academy [PART 4]While the knights methodically eliminated Adelaide''s guards, Ambrose''s mind operated on an entirely different plane. His newly acquired skills, [Thought Acceleration](A) and [Time Perception](B), allowed his thoughts to race at supernatural speeds while maintaining perfect awareness of multiple events simultaneously. However, even these extraordinary abilities proved insufficient for unraveling the mystery that nagged at his consciousness. Without hesitation, he activated another skill from his arsenal:


    [Focus State](D) - Enables the user to maintain concentrated observation without succumbing to normal human limitations. The user can maintain unwavering attention for up to 15 minutes, with a 30% reduction in the impact of external distractions. This state also comes with a slight reduction in mental fatigue during observation tasks, allowing for longer periods of detailed investigation.


    The addition of this focused state brought immediate relief as he felt his perception sharpen further. Earlier, he had detected something unusual in the guards'' behavior ¨C a subtle undercurrent of communication that his enhanced senses couldn''t quite grasp. He had filed the observation away for later consideration, but now, as their lives were being systematically ended, that same sensation returned with overwhelming intensity.


    As he concentrated, pushing his abilities to their limits, fragments of information began breaking through. Like a radio picking up a distant station, a jumbled voice emerged through layers of static: "#$%@@^Hel*#%^Mission@!#$". Before he could isolate more of the message, the last guard fell silent, taking any chance of further clarity with him to the grave.


    Just then, system notifications appeared before him:


    [Ding! The host has comprehended a new method of information by his own]


    [Ding! Your observation talent has advanced a little]


    The notifications caught Ambrose by surprise. Everything he had learned about talents suggested their advancement was impossible. In this world, talents were strictly classified: Trash, Ordinary, High level, Top level, Legendary, Mythical, Transcendent, with anything beyond considered divine. His father''s Time talent was Transcendent, while his own Observation talent was merely Ordinary. The possibility of talent advancement contradicted everything he thought he knew ¨C or perhaps his knowledge had been incomplete.


    This revelation carried profound implications. While he possessed the divine Space-time talent, the system''s harsh assessment had been accurate ¨C he had no practical way to utilize it. A mere attempt to tap into its essence had rendered him comatose for a week. But his Observation talent, compatible with his intelligence-focused build, had just demonstrated the potential for growth. Simply by applying his mind to comprehend a new phenomenon, the talent had advanced. His path, which had seemed frustratingly limited, suddenly opened with new possibilities. Even an Ordinary talent, properly nurtured, might evolve into something extraordinary.


    With rising excitement, he called up his status panel. While most stats remained unchanged, his intrinsic skill had undergone a remarkable transformation:


    [Observer''s Intuition - Enlightened](Intrinsic) - Through deep understanding and countless observations, this natural talent has evolved to new heights, greatly enhancing the user''s cognitive and sensory processing abilities while unlocking new potential in information gathering and analysis. This enlightened state allows for deeper insight into both the physical and mental realms. (Subskills: [Heightened Perception](B), [Detail Retention](C), [Pattern Recognition](B), [Focus State](C), [Thought Transmission](B))


    Beyond the obvious rank improvements of existing subskills, an entirely new ability had manifested:


    [Thought Transmission](B) - A newly awakened ability born from heightened mental sensitivity. The user can transmit their gathered information telepathically to willing recipients within a 50-meter radius, complete with sensory details from their observations. Additionally, they gain enhanced sensitivity to mental transmissions in their vicinity, able to detect and sometimes intercept telepathic communications happening within 30 meters. This sensitivity extends to detecting strong emotional broadcasts and mental disturbances in their area.


    A satisfied smile played across Ambrose''s lips as he studied the new skill''s description. The mystery of the guards'' final moments was solved ¨C they had been attempting telepathic communication. Though that particular secret died with them, the experience had unlocked new capabilities he could immediately put to use.


    Glancing at Adelaide beside him, a plan began forming in his mind. It seemed appropriate to test his new ability in the field. Activating [Thought Transmission], he reached out to Hualing, still lost in her fantasies within the carriage.


    "The young master''s voice?" Her head snapped up in surprise as his thoughts touched her mind. Understanding dawned in her eyes as she received his instructions, her dreamy expression transforming into one of focused determination. "~Leave it to me," she responded, her hand sliding to retrieve a knife concealed against her thigh.


    ...


    In the confines of the luxurious carriage, Adelaide fought to maintain her composure as the knife pressed ever more insistently against her throat. Her merchant''s training took over as she attempted to salvage the situation with her usual diplomatic smile. "Young master, what do you mean?" she asked, her voice carefully modulated despite her growing anxiety.


    Her attempt at de-escalation backfired spectacularly as Hualing''s reaction proved wildly unexpected. "How dare you seduce the young master!" the maid snarled, the knife edge trembling with barely restrained violence. Only Ambrose''s swift hand signal prevented the situation from turning lethal. He cast a worried glance at his overzealous maid ¨C hadn''t his telepathic message explained the situation clearly? Her excessive killing intent suggested either a miscommunication or... something else entirely.


    Returning his attention to Adelaide, he cut straight to the heart of the matter: "Who''s the spy?"


    Confusion flickered across Adelaide''s features before understanding dawned. "There''s a misunderstanding," she began carefully, conscious of the blade at her throat. "Even though the Golden Compass Trading Company is extremely wealthy and influential, we wouldn''t dare place spies in the house of Rothschild." Ambrose''s enhanced perception confirmed her sincerity, and he gestured for her to continue.


    "Although, there are no spies in the house. Outside, it''s fair game," she added with pointed emphasis. The distinction struck Ambrose like a physical blow ¨C of course, his departure from the estate would have been witnessed by countless eyes. A merchant of Adelaide''s caliber wouldn''t need internal spies to track such public movements.


    "It seems I''ve become paranoid," he reflected inwardly. The integration of the original Ambrose''s memories had left him feeling genuinely protective of the Rothschild name, perhaps too much so. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he asked, "Then why did you use me?"


    Adelaide, ever observant, noted his softening demeanor with relief, though the knife''s presence demanded continued caution. "Actually..."


    She proceeded to paint a vivid picture of the power dynamics within the Golden Compass Trading Company. Maximilian Brightwell, the aging patriarch, commanded wealth that surpassed many noble houses, making the question of succession a matter of intense speculation. His eldest son, Sebastian Brightwell, enjoyed broad support among the company''s power players, while the second son, Theodore Brightwell, maintained his own sphere of influence.


    Then there was Adelaide, the daughter who had carved her own path. From childhood, she had recognized her father''s results-oriented mindset and chosen a strategy distinct from her brothers'' traditional networking approach. While they curried favor with nobles, she built her own business empire. Though smaller than her father''s, her independent success had earned his approval ¨C and others'' resentment.


    Her gender and refusal to engage in typical political maneuvering had made her deeply unpopular among the company''s old guard. The academy had seemed like a perfect refuge; surely her brothers wouldn''t dare move against her there. But she had miscalculated, walking right into their trap. Her own guards, bought and paid for, stood ready to betray her.


    Death had seemed certain until news reached her of the Rothschild heir''s awakening and planned academy attendance. A desperate plan had formed in her mind.


    "And that''s how I made a plan to have you help me. It was a test!" Adelaide concluded, meeting Ambrose''s gaze directly.


    "Oh? You actually dare to test me?" Ambrose''s smile carried an edge of danger, but Adelaide was already moving, closing the distance between them despite the knife at her throat.


    "The young master misunderstood me," she declared, her voice taking on a formal tone. "I meant this as a test for myself and also to show my worth." With fluid grace, she dropped to one knee before him, assuming the traditional pose of a vassal before their lord. "I wonder if I''m worthy enough for the young master to take me in."


    The gesture transformed the atmosphere in the carriage. This was no longer a merchant''s daughter seeking protection, but a potential sworn follower offering fealty to their chosen master. The political implications of such an alliance ¨C between the Rothschild heir and the likely successor to the Golden Compass Trading Company ¨C hung heavy in the air between them.


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 Chapter 11: Crono Magic Academy [PART 5]

    Chapter 11: Crono Magic Academy [PART 5]Ambrose sat back in his carriage seat, observing Adelaide''s kneeling form with calculated interest. However, the majority of his attention was focused on Hualing, whose barely contained aggression radiated through her rigid posture. Despite his continued attempts at telepathic communication, she seemed to be teetering on the edge of violence. Her behavior puzzled him deeply - something wasn''t adding up.


    His first thought was simple jealousy, but that made little sense given their current relationship, or rather, lack thereof. Wasn''t she supposed to be destined as the protagonist''s ally? This level of instability seemed out of character for someone meant to play such a role. A disturbing thought crossed his mind - had he somehow mistaken the villainess for the heroine? He quickly dismissed the idea, though a seed of doubt remained.


    After expending considerable mental effort to keep Hualing somewhat pacified, he turned his attention back to Adelaide. "I see. But why should I take you in?" he questioned, his tone deliberately stern. "Aren''t you basically seeking protection from me? Although it''s not difficult to protect you, what''s in it for me?"


    While his words were harsh, his thoughts ran along more practical lines. If Adelaide''s offer was sincere, she could prove invaluable. Her connections and information networks would be particularly useful at the academy, where he couldn''t readily leverage his family''s influence. She appeared genuinely competent - a stark contrast to Hualing who, despite being his first subordinate, was proving increasingly unstable. The prospect of having a truly capable ally was appealing.


    Adelaide met his challenge head-on. "I want to dedicate myself and the company I created to the young master. And even though it''s not as big as my father''s, I still have a fairly large information network that would surely interest you."


    "Information network, you say? Do you think I lack such things?" he responded dismissively.


    A knowing smile crossed Adelaide''s features - she could sense she''d passed the first test of utility. Now she just needed to demonstrate her intellectual worth. "Although the Rothschild''s information network is indeed huge, it''s still your parents''," she observed carefully.


    "And so what?" Ambrose''s arrogant tone caused Adelaide to falter momentarily, but he continued, "My parents really love me so they wouldn''t think twice if I wanted something similar for myself." His gaze, though hidden behind the blindfold, bore into her with palpable intensity. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Adelaide recovered smoothly. "That may be true, but I''m sure that you''re not that kind of person to rely on your parents." Her smile carried a hint of triumph.


    Ambrose couldn''t help but admire her craftiness. Her words appeared as simple praise, but they were actually a clever trap - to deny them would damage his dignity. With an appreciative smile, he conceded, "You''re right, it would indeed be weird if I relied on my parents for everything," while stroking his chin as if in contemplation.


    "So, does that mean..." Adelaide began hopefully.


    "Yes, I''ll take you in," Ambrose confirmed. Adelaide immediately rose and bowed repeatedly, "I greet the master."


    Then, in a masterful display of political acumen, she turned to Hualing, bowing even more deeply than before. "I greet the lady," she said, her survival instincts guiding her actions perfectly. She recognized that without Hualing''s acceptance, even the master''s protection might not be enough. After all, what good would it be if she was suddenly stabbed? How could the weak master protect her then.


    The effect was immediate. Hualing dropped her knife, hands flying up in flustered denial. "Wha-what lady? I''m the young master''s mai... Personal maid," she stammered, her face flushing crimson as she covered it with her hands.


    "The lady is so modest," Adelaide pressed her advantage, causing Hualing to turn away in complete embarrassment.


    Adelaide caught Ambrose''s eye, shooting him a look that clearly said, "I''ll take care of her for you." He could only smile in response - the merchant''s daughter was proving herself far from ordinary. To so effortlessly disarm someone he''d considered potentially dangerous was no small feat.


    As he reached down to retrieve the dropped knife, Ambrose reflected that the only sensible course of action now was to confiscate this dangerous implement. It seemed he had gained not just an ally, but someone who might help maintain stability within his growing circle of followers.


    ...


    As the carriage continued its journey, Ambrose sat with a book in hand, finally able to enjoy the ride in peace without maintaining constant vigilance around his maid. Glancing up from his reading, he observed with quiet amusement how Hualing and Adelaide chatted away like lifelong friends. The merchant''s daughter had indeed proven herself skilled at manipulation- no, human relations. Watching her now, Ambrose dismissed his earlier concerns about her being a potential villainess. She appeared to be nothing more than a lonely soul in need of companionship.


    A/N: Whatever you say bud


    Closing his book with a soft thud, he addressed Adelaide directly. "Now that I''ve taken you in, you can''t be idle. You just have potential, but I want you to be useful. Do you get what I mean?" His tone carried clear expectations.


    For the first time since their meeting, Adelaide''s response came with a genuine smile, devoid of her usual calculated polish. "I''ve already contacted my people. We''ll use the young master''s name to quickly expand our reach," she reported confidently. Ambrose nodded in approval, impressed that she''d managed to send messages without his notice. It seemed she still had some tricks. Finally, he had someone operating on his wavelength.


    "Speaking of which, didn''t you say you hated this sort of thing?" he probed, recalling her earlier statements about avoiding political maneuvering.


    Her smile took on a more complex quality as she explained, "I didn''t hate it per se. It''s just that my father didn''t like this sort of thing, so I did my best to be on his good side." A shadow passed across her features as she spoke of her father.


    "Then what changed?" Ambrose pressed, genuinely curious.


    "Well, I was just too ambitious," she admitted. "I wanted to have a business even bigger than my father''s. I wanted to have a network that spans across the continent." Her expression hardened slightly. "But with how women are viewed, I''d be lucky to keep my life as you saw." Then her smile returned, bright and calculating. "But now that I''m the young master''s property, my dream isn''t that far off. The young master is wealthy, so he won''t care even if a woman took care of this small business, right?"


    Ambrose studied her thoughtfully. The challenges faced by women in this world, especially commoners, were indeed substantial. And her ambitions were no small thing - this world''s continent dwarfed Earth in size, making her goals even more audacious. "Of course, it''s just the continent," he replied aloud, while thinking wryly, "Good luck spreading your network into the empire." The tension between kingdom and empire seemed to be approaching a breaking point.


    Speaking of tension...


    Along the road to the magic academy, black-clad figures crouched in concealment, observing the passing Rothschild carriage with predatory focus. Their leader spoke quietly into a crystal ball, "She seems to be in a carriage with the heir of Rothschild, what do we do?"


    Before any response could come through, shadows detached themselves from the surrounding forest. The Rothschild knights emerged like wraiths, encircling the would-be ambushers with practiced precision. Their captain''s voice carried both anticipation and deadly purpose: "We disappointed the young master earlier. These mercenaries'' lives can be used to appease the young master."


    The words acted like a signal, galvanizing the knights into action. They fell upon the mercenaries with terrifying efficiency, their movements suggesting this was far from their first such cleanup operation. The term "battle" would have been too generous - it was simply a methodical extermination, carried out with the cold precision that had made the Rothschild knights infamous throughout the kingdom.

 Chapter 12: Arrival

    Chapter 12: ArrivalThe luxurious Rothschild carriage came to a halt before the academy entrance, and Ambrose emerged with his two companions. He stood for a moment, taking in his first glimpse of a school in either lifetime. His expression held a peculiar mix of wonder and bewilderment that didn''t escape Adelaide''s notice. She understood his reaction - after all, the Rothschild heir had reportedly never left his family estate due to his chronic illness. This must all seem otherworldly to him.


    With a casual gesture, Ambrose lifted his hand, and a walking cane materialized in his grasp. Adelaide''s eyes widened at the sight. While spatial storage devices weren''t uncommon among the nobility, their size directly corresponded to their value. A ring-sized storage device was astronomical in price - even her family''s trading company possessed only one, a royal gift to her father that had become a treasured heirloom. Then again, she reflected, this shouldn''t be surprising given that Ambrose''s mother was Victoria Lancaster, a spatial mage whose achievements were literally recorded in history books.


    Leaning on his cane, Ambrose proceeded at a measured pace, flanked by his companions. The Rothschild knights, barred from entering the academy grounds, withdrew after receiving their dismissal. As they crossed the threshold, the true scale of the academy revealed itself. The grounds teemed with more people than Ambrose had encountered in both his lives combined, creating a vibrant tapestry of motion and sound that left him momentarily overwhelmed.


    Noting his wide-eyed fascination, Adelaide spoke up. "Since we arrived three days before admissions officially begin, why don''t we take this time to explore the academy?"


    "Can we do that?" Ambrose asked, his voice betraying childlike excitement.


    "Well, not really," Adelaide began, watching his expression fall before adding with a knowing smile, "But if the heir of Rothschild wants to tour the academy, I''m sure the principal will allow it."


    "Let''s go then!" Ambrose''s enthusiasm proved infectious.


    Their impromptu tour proceeded with Adelaide smoothly handling any guards who tried to stop them. She''d speak briefly with them, and their expressions would transform from stern authority to shock and horror as they realized who stood before them. Their hasty bows and apologies became a recurring source of amusement.


    However, Adelaide soon found herself feeling less like a guide and more like a nursemaid. Both Ambrose and Hualing displayed an unrestrained curiosity that kept her constantly on her toes. Every time she turned around, they''d vanish into some new area of interest, leaving her to track them down. Just now, she''d lost sight of them again.


    As she turned to search for her wayward charges, she collided with someone. The woman before her wore white robes and a distinctive blindfold marked with a cross - the attire of a religious devotee, though something about her presence suggested deeper significance. Had Ambrose been present, he would have recognized her as the second woman from the book''s cover.


    "Oh my! Forgive me! Ah! What a sin!" the woman exclaimed, bowing repeatedly with exaggerated distress.


    Adelaide offered a perfunctory bow in return. "No, it''s okay. It''s my fault for not paying attention," she replied hastily before practically fleeing the scene. Once she''d put some distance between them, she spat out a venomous "Tch! Holy Church bastards!" before spotting her companions in the distance and hurrying to catch up.


    The robed woman watched Adelaide''s retreat with calculating eyes. "That scent... is it from her or someone she''s close to?" she mused aloud. Turning away, a cold smile played across her lips as she added, "Either way, I''ll have to pay attention to her." Her final words carried an ominous weight: "It seems this year''s recruitment will be worth watching."


    ...


    In the principal''s office, a striking woman with flame-red hair sat behind an ornate desk, reviewing documents with focused intensity. The freshman admissions were mere days away, and the mounting paperwork demanded her full attention. Her concentration might have held if not for the irritating presence across from her - a woman who seemed determined to test the limits of what an office chair could endure, swinging back and forth while making an array of increasingly annoying noises.


    "What do you want?" the principal finally broke, abandoning her strategy of pointed ignorance. "Victoria Lancaster... no! It''s Victoria Rothschild now," she corrected herself, unable to keep a note of exasperation from her voice.


    "Oh! Finally decided to acknowledge my presence?" Victoria practically purred, rising from her chair with predatory grace. Her eyes blazed with supernatural blue light, and the very air around them began to tremble with barely contained power.


    The principal''s own eyes flared crimson as she watched Victoria''s approach. Her mind raced through memories of the woman before her - Victoria had never fit the mold of a proper noble lady, acting more like a rogue element that no one could control. Even when her family had essentially sold her to the Rothschilds in a political marriage, they''d failed to tame her wild spirit. If anything, she''d grown more unpredictable, more dangerous. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Victoria drew closer, the principal debated striking first to improve her odds of survival. With a heavy sigh, she let her eyes return to normal. After all, she thought grimly, who would seek justice on her behalf if this madwoman decided to retaliate?


    "Oh! Your control over your emotions has grown over the years," Victoria observed, her own eyes dimming as she perched casually on the principal''s desk, scattering carefully organized documents. "Actually, this time I came to ask you for a favor," she added, her voice deceptively soft.


    The principal felt her stomach sink at those words - nothing good ever followed when Victoria asked for "favors." Still, she forced herself to ask, "What favor?"


    Victoria''s smile widened. "My son will be enrolling in the magic academy," she began, turning to gaze out the window. Her eyes seemed to pierce through space itself, focusing on something - or someone - far beyond the office walls. "He''s probably within the academy by now."


    Returning her attention to the principal, she continued, "Since my son is weak, I hope you take care of him."


    The principal sat in stunned silence, her mind racing through implications. Having the Rothschild heir at the academy was like hosting royalty - no, potentially even more complicated. The number of people who might target him could turn the academy into a battlefield. A bead of sweat traced down her cheek as she contemplated refusing, but one look at Victoria''s serene smile conjured vivid images of being bisected by a spatial blade.


    Drawing a steadying breath, she ventured, "Since this is a favor, what do I get out of it?"


    Victoria''s response came with the casual air of someone discussing the weather: "As long as you do this, the academy will continue existing."


    The principal stared at her in disbelief. "Isn''t that more of a threat than a favor?" she managed to ask.


    "It''s a favor because I''m giving you a chance to save the academy," Victoria clarified, her logic as twisted as ever.


    "Yeah, save it from you!" the principal screamed internally, though she dared not voice the thought. With a resigned sigh, she reflected that Victoria hadn''t changed at all - she was still the same unreasonable force of nature who twisted reality to suit her whims.


    ...


    A/N


    What titles should I give the Rothschild couple?

 Chapter 13: Entrance Exam [PART 1]

    Chapter 13: Entrance Exam [PART 1]Afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the luxurious estate, casting long shadows across polished wooden floors and illuminating motes of dust that danced in the air. Ambrose sat in a high-backed leather chair, a leather-bound tome balanced carefully in his lap. The quiet was broken only by the gentle clink of porcelain as Hualing entered, bearing a silver tray with an ornate teapot and cup.


    She poured the tea with practiced grace, the aromatic steam rising in delicate spirals. Without a word, she placed the cup within easy reach and retreated, her footsteps nearly silent on the thick carpet. Ambrose watched her departing figure with thoughtful eyes, remembering how she''d practically bounced with excitement these past two days, exploring every corner of the academy and the surrounding city with childlike wonder.


    Despite her role as his personal bodyguard, he''d allowed these excursions without hesitation. After all, what harm could befall him within the academy''s heavily warded grounds? His gaze drifted to the window, taking in the sprawling grounds of what was now his personal estate ¨C a "gift" from the academy principal, though her reluctance had been painfully obvious. The memory of that meeting brought a knowing smile to his lips as he recalled sensing his mother''s presence earlier that same day. He wondered if his mother had pulled some strings.


    What troubled him more was his own behavior. That initial burst of curiosity upon arriving at the academy had evaporated with surprising speed, even catching Adelaide off guard. He could still feel the excitement somewhere within him, but it felt muted, as if being actively suppressed. The realization prompted him to call up one of his skill descriptions:


    [Rational Mind](S) - The pinnacle of logical processing, this ability maintains perfect clarity of thought regardless of circumstances. The user remains completely immune to emotional manipulation and can think clearly even under extreme stress or fear. The ability to separate emotions from decision-making becomes second nature, while also preventing mental breakdown in even the most traumatic situations, ensuring consistent rational thought processes.


    Understanding dawned as he studied the description. This wasn''t just an active skill ¨C it was running constantly in the background, automatically filtering out anything it deemed emotionally driven or illogical. His desire to explore the academy purely out of excitement? Suppressed. But when he reframed the exploration as a tactical assessment of his new environment, he felt no resistance from the skill.


    "Wait! Does that mean..." The thought propelled him from his chair toward the opposite wall''s bookshelf. His fingers traced along the spines until they found what he sought ¨C a colorful volume bearing a prominent warning against readers under eighteen. With clinical detachment, he opened the book and studied its contents. After a minute of observation, his expression turned somber as he confirmed his suspicion. Not even a flutter of arousal.


    As he returned the book to its shelf, he found himself surprisingly unbothered by this discovery. Given his Weak Body physique, arousal had previously led to dangerous strain on his system. The real concern was his apparent inability to control or even fully understand this skill''s parameters. What did it consider "illogical"? How might this automatic suppression affect his decision-making in crucial moments?


    Yet even as these worries formed, he found himself dismissing them, returning to his chair and picking up one of the history books Adelaide had procured for him. Mid-paragraph, a troubling thought surfaced: why had he so readily abandoned his concerns about the skill''s influence? Was the skill itself making him ignore potential threats to its control? He pushed the thought aside with surprising ease. No, that was paranoid thinking ¨C he simply recognized the futility of pursuing answers he couldn''t obtain.


    But somewhere in the depths of his enhanced mind, a quiet voice wondered if that rationalization too was just another product of the skill''s influence.


    ...


    The morning sun cast long shadows across the academy grounds as Ambrose and Hualing emerged from their estate. Adelaide stood waiting for them at the agreed meeting point, her trademark merchant''s smile firmly in place.


    "Did you take care of it?" Ambrose inquired, referring to the business she''d mentioned two days prior. Her response came in the form of a confident nod, her smile never wavering. Without missing a beat, she glided over to Hualing''s side, and the two women fell into animated conversation, their voices carrying easily through the crisp morning air.


    The trio made their way toward the academy proper, where a growing crowd was converging on what appeared to be a stadium-like structure. As they merged with the throng of prospective students, Hualing''s demeanor shifted instantly. Her cheerful disposition vanished, replaced by the cold efficiency of a trained guard. In one fluid motion, she pressed closer to Ambrose, her hand sliding to her thigh and producing a wickedly sharp knife. The killing intent radiating from her was so palpable that nearby students instinctively stepped back, creating a conspicuous circle of empty space around their group.


    Whispers rippled through the crowd like wind through tall grass.


    "Who''s that? He looks important," one student ventured.


    Another responded with barely concealed disdain, "Have you been living under a rock? That''s Ambrose Rothschild."


    "That means..." a third voice chimed in, trailing off meaningfully.


    "Yeah, he''s the sole heir of the Rothschild family," someone confirmed, their tone heavy with implications.


    A particularly brave (or foolish) student dared to ask, "But wasn''t he sick? How is he here now?" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The response was immediate and harsh. "Shut up! Don''t ask what you shouldn''t! If you want to die, don''t involve us!" The crowd shifted away from the questioner like a living organism avoiding poison, leaving him isolated.


    The unfortunate student''s eyes met Hualing''s, and what he saw made his blood run cold. She began slowly licking her blade, her eyes never leaving his, until the poor boy''s bladder gave out in terror.


    Ambrose heaved a weary sigh and delivered a light tap to Hualing''s head. "What are you doing? You''re scaring away the others," he chided, smoothly confiscating the knife from her hands. The tension in the air was broken by the arrival of the academy principal, who had sensed the disturbance.


    Taking in the scene with a practiced eye, the principal could only sigh. "What are you standing around for? The entrance exam is about to begin," she announced, her authoritative voice brooking no argument.


    The crowd immediately began streaming toward the venue, their earlier trepidation temporarily forgotten in the rush to secure good positions. Ambrose''s group followed at a more leisurely pace, unbothered by the commotion around them.


    As they walked, Ambrose studied the confiscated knife with interest. His enhanced vision picked up subtle differences from the previous one he''d taken from her. "Probably a backup," he mused, admiring her preparedness even as he questioned the wisdom of letting her keep such weapons. With a subtle gesture, he stored the blade in his space ring, making a mental note to have a serious discussion about appropriate bodyguard behavior in public spaces.


    The principal watched their retreating figures with a mixture of resignation and concern. Between Victoria Rothschild''s "requests" and her son''s apparently unstable bodyguard, this year''s entrance ceremony was shaping up to be more eventful than usual.


    High above in one of the academy buildings, a young woman in religious attire observed the scene through a window. Her distinctive outfit ¨C white robes and a blindfold marked with a cross ¨C marked her as a member of the church. As she watched the commotion below, her expression grew troubled, words escaping in a whisper: "That girl... How could a single person have such evil..."


    Before she could complete her thought, Hualing''s head snapped up, her gaze piercing directly through the distance to meet the observer''s eyes. A wicked smile spread across the maid''s face, so jarring and unexpected that the religious woman staggered backward. When she gathered her courage to look again, everything appeared normal ¨C Hualing was walking away with her group as if nothing had happened.


    "Did I just imagine it?" the woman wondered, one hand pressed against her racing heart.

 Chapter 14: Main Characters [PART 1]

    Chapter 14: Main Characters [PART 1]In the bustling streets of Seoul, Park Jin-woo navigated through the morning crowd, a stack of documents clutched in one hand while the other pressed his phone tightly against his ear. The cacophony of city life made it difficult to hear the client''s conditions, forcing him to strain just to catch every other word.


    This was, by all accounts, just another ordinary morning commute for Jin-woo. In fact, it felt almost too ordinary. Since birth, he had been the living embodiment of average ¨C average looks that neither attracted nor repelled, average grades that never disappointed but never impressed, and an average job that paid the bills but sparked no passion. Sometimes he would joke to himself that he must be the protagonist of some story, one of those self-insert characters that readers could easily project themselves onto. But even by his standards of normalcy, today felt unusually... normal.


    As he attempted to close the deal over the phone, approaching a crosswalk, movement caught his eye. A truck was barreling toward the intersection, showing no signs of slowing despite the glaring red light. Other pedestrians noticed too, collectively stepping back from the curb with murmurs of concern and annoyance. Jin-woo joined them in retreat, sighing at the driver''s recklessness. At least no one was hurt.


    That thought had barely formed when his eyes landed on a small figure stepping into the crosswalk. A little girl, face set in childish determination, gripped a bright balloon as she marched forward, completely oblivious to the danger bearing down on her. Horror bloomed across Jin-woo''s features as the truck''s horn blared ¨C a desperate, futile warning.


    At that moment, time seemed to crystalize. The world slowed to a crawl as Jin-woo''s eyes darted between the rapidly approaching truck and the oblivious child. His mind raced: Why isn''t anyone moving? Why isn''t anyone helping? The crowd around him stood frozen, faces masks of shock and fear, but not a single person stepped forward.


    Then understanding struck him like a physical blow. Of course no one was moving ¨C they were all asking the same questions he was. The real question wasn''t why others weren''t acting; it was why he wasn''t acting. In that crystallized moment, Jin-woo finally discovered something extraordinary about himself.


    Without further hesitation, he launched himself forward. His legs, powered by desperate adrenaline, carried him faster than he''d ever moved before. His arms stretched out, connecting with the child''s small form, and he pushed with every ounce of strength he possessed. The force of his shove sent her flying ¨C perhaps too hard, a distant part of his mind worried, but better bruised than dead. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The last thing he registered was the sharp pop of a balloon, a sound that seemed absurdly loud in that final instant. Then darkness claimed him, and Park Jin-woo, the most average man in Seoul, did something decidedly not average at all.


    ...


    When Park Jin-woo opened his eyes in his new world, he found himself inhabiting the body of Marcus Turner, a commoner orphan in a realm where magic wasn''t just stories but reality. The discovery of his new identity came with an extraordinary gift - a top-level talent known as Sword Intent. For Jin-woo, who had lived his entire previous life in crushing mediocrity, this seemed like fate''s apology, a chance to be extraordinary.


    Despite his common birth, Turner''s talent opened doors that should have remained forever closed to someone of his status. He secured a coveted scholarship to Crono Magic Academy, an institution so prestigious that even nobles schemed and competed for admission. The achievement felt like validation of his potential, proof that his new life would be different from his last.


    Initially, everything seemed perfect. His talent drew attention, earned him friends, and promised a future bright with possibility. But as the months passed, cracks began appearing in his perfect narrative. Each new challenge revealed limitations in his supposedly superior talent. While his peers continued to grow stronger, mastering increasingly powerful abilities, Turner found himself struggling to keep pace.


    The gap widened until it became impossible to ignore. His former friends began to distance themselves, their expressions shifting from admiration to pity, and finally to disdain. The day they officially expelled him from their party, their contemptuous looks hurt more than any physical wound could have.


    It was during this lowest point that he met Hualing. Like him, she was an outcast, someone whose talent had been deemed insufficient by their peers. They bonded over their shared experiences, their mutual understanding of what it meant to be labeled as "trash" by a society obsessed with innate potential. Together, they formed a new party, determined to prove that hard work could overcome the limitations of talent.


    Their partnership blossomed into something beautiful. They trained together, supported each other, and slowly began to see progress. When Turner''s talent finally evolved to legendary grade, it felt like vindication of everything they''d believed in. The discovery that talents could be improved through dedication rather than just innate potential seemed like it would revolutionize their world.


    Eager to share his breakthrough with his closest companion, Turner sought out Hualing. But the person he found was a stranger wearing his friend''s face. Her talent evolution had changed more than just her abilities - it had transformed her very personality. Before he could process this change, he felt the cold bite of steel in his back.


    As he collapsed, her maniacal laughter filled his ears: "I''ll make good use of your talent. HAHAHA!" Even as consciousness faded, his mind burned with questions. Why? How could she do this? Their shared struggles, their promises, their friendship - had it all meant nothing to her?


    Death approached, but fate had other plans. Through sheer will, Turner found himself clinging to life, crawling across the ground with his talent forcibly extracted - an impossibility that should have meant instant death. In this state of living death, he encountered the King of Spirits, a being who seemed equally fascinated and impressed by Turner''s tenacity.


    The King offered him a chance - at a terrible price - to return and rewrite his story. Turner accepted without hesitation, willing to pay any cost for the opportunity to understand, to prevent, to change what had happened.


    Now, standing among the crowd of prospective students at Crono''s entrance exam, Turner breathed in the familiar air. A bright smile crossed his face as nostalgia washed over him. "I must say, it feels good to be back." His expression hardened with determination. "It won''t be the same this time."


    But unbeknownst to him, a figure watched from afar. A girl with low twin braids, bangs, and oversized glasses observed him with calculating interest. "Well, well, well," she murmured, a cunning smile playing across her lips, "isn''t that our lovely regressor."

 Chapter 15: Main Characters [PART 2]

    Chapter 15: Main Characters [PART 2]Sunlight filtered through dusty blinds into a cramped one-bedroom apartment, illuminating a chaotic landscape of scattered manga volumes, empty energy drink cans, and discarded takeout containers. The small desk squeezed against the wall groaned under the weight of reference materials and a struggling laptop, its cooling fan whirring in protest against the constant use.


    In the midst of this creative chaos sat a girl wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and shorts, a half-eaten piece of bread dangling precariously from her mouth as her fingers flew across the keyboard with practiced precision. The blue light from her screen cast an ethereal glow across her features, reflecting off her glasses as she hunched closer to scrutinize the novel cover displayed before her.


    The artwork commanded attention - a striking composition featuring five distinct figures. In the foreground, a beautiful girl with blood-spattered cheeks smiled sweetly while clutching a crimson-stained knife, her expression a jarring contrast of innocence and menace. Beside her stood another young woman in religious garb, her eyes concealed behind a cross-marked blindfold, hands clasped in perpetual prayer.


    The middle ground was dominated by two male figures - a radiant youth whose hand rested on a sword that pierced the ground, golden light emanating from the blade in waves that seemed to pulse with life. Next to him, turned slightly away, stood a handsome man in dark mage''s robes, a mysterious grimoire clutched in his hands. Looming behind them all was a shadowy figure, their dark-robed back turned to the viewer in a pose that suggested both mystery and threat.


    Her fingers never stopped moving as she typed furiously in the review section below: "...generic work i''ve ever seen. Also, why is there a BL tag? This is clear..." The harsh critique flowed uninterrupted until a voice called from downstairs, cutting through her concentration.


    "Hua Hua! Could you come down here for a bit?"


    She glanced toward the door with a resigned sigh, quickly hitting enter to post her review before pushing back from the desk. But as she turned to stand, something impossible happened - the screen''s usual blue glow intensified to blinding levels, reaching out with tendrils of light that wrapped around her form. Before she could even process what was happening, the light yanked her forward, drawing her into the screen itself.


    In the suddenly empty room, the computer''s display returned to normal, showing no sign of the extraordinary event that had just occurred. The voice from downstairs continued calling, oblivious to the fact that "Hua Hua" was no longer in this world at all. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ...


    Liu Meihua stood amidst the bustling crowd of cadets rushing toward the entrance exam area. Unlike the others, she moved with deliberate slowness, her eyes carefully scanning her surroundings. It had been a week since she''d found herself reincarnated into the book she''d been reading, inhabiting the body of what should have been a mere background character. At least, she mused, this particular mob character had managed to secure a chance at the Crono Magic Academy entrance exam.


    Her gaze swept across the grounds as she contemplated her situation. The first exam would test for talent - though its results weren''t truly critical. It merely distinguished between those who had already awakened their abilities and those who hadn''t. Even without an awakened talent, candidates could still gain admission through exceptional performance in the written and practical exams. They simply needed to awaken their talent within their first year to avoid expulsion.


    Meihua felt confident about the written portion - her knowledge of the book''s content would serve her well there. As for the practical exam, she planned to rely on more capable individuals for support. This strategic thinking had her actively searching the crowd for potential allies.


    Her attention was caught by a figure moving against the flow of nervous cadets - a young man walking with measured confidence, a sword secured at his waist. The moment she spotted him, her eyes lit up with recognition. A mischievous smile played across her lips as she murmured, "Well, well, well, isn''t that our lovely regressor."


    She quickened her pace to intercept him, but movement in her peripheral vision stopped her short. Another group walked leisurely through the crowd, and the sight of them froze her in place. There, in the flesh, stood Ambrose Rothschild - heir to a family whose power rivaled or perhaps even exceeded the royal family''s. But his presence made no sense - according to the story she knew, he shouldn''t have awakened yet.


    Beside him stood Adelaide, a character who had rated barely a mention in the original narrative, and who should have been dead by now. The discrepancies made Meihua''s head spin. If such significant changes were already in play, how many other alterations might exist? Her carefully laid plans, based on her knowledge of the story, suddenly seemed far less reliable.


    Her eyes darted between Marcus, the regressor, and Ambrose as she weighed her options. Marcus, despite his future knowledge, currently lacked real power. Ambrose, while physically weak, commanded wealth and connections that could prove invaluable. "Better to sail the already moving slow boat than to wait for the fast boat that was yet to be made," she reasoned to herself.


    But as she prepared to approach Ambrose''s group, she noticed someone that nearly brought her to her knees. Hualing chatted animatedly with Adelaide, the sight sending chills down Meihua''s spine. Of course - at this point in the timeline, Hualing served as Ambrose''s maid. Meihua quickly averted her gaze, terrified she''d already looked too long. Without daring another glance in their direction, she altered course toward Marcus instead.


    Meanwhile, Hualing''s eyes followed Meihua''s retreating form, a knowing smile playing across her features. Her gaze shifted to Marcus, her smile widening ominously as she whispered, "We meet again..."


    "Hualing?" Adelaide''s voice broke through her reverie. "Is everything okay?"


    "Oh! It''s nothing," Hualing replied with a bright smile, "just overwhelmed is all." But as she pressed a hand to her chest, her thoughts turned inward. "It''s happening again," she mused, though whether with anticipation or dread, even she couldn''t say.

 Chapter 16: Entrance Exam [PART 2]

    Chapter 16: Entrance Exam [PART 2]Sunlight streamed through the high windows of the examination hall as hundreds of prospective students gathered in anticipation. Ambrose stood with his companions, observing the proceedings with calculating interest. The first test ¨C the talent evaluation ¨C was about to begin.


    He recalled from his research that this wasn''t truly a test in the conventional sense. The academy used it primarily to catalog which students had already awakened their talents and which hadn''t. After all, it would be counterintuitive for a magic academy to reject students simply because they hadn''t yet awakened abilities they were meant to learn here. Still, humans being humans, this preliminary evaluation had evolved into an unofficial ranking system among the students, a way to identify potential allies and rivals before classes even began.


    One by one, candidates approached the testing area. A crystalline orb would glow with varying colors and intensity as each student placed their hand upon it, allowing the instructors to assess their talents. Some returned to their seats beaming with pride, others shuffled back with downcast expressions, while a few maintained carefully neutral faces that revealed nothing.


    "Lysander Blackvale," the instructor called out, his voice carrying across the hall.


    A tall young man strode forward, his bearing aristocratic and self-assured. As his hand touched the orb, it erupted in brilliant purple light.


    "[Arcane Dominion] (Legendary)," the instructor announced.


    The hall erupted in excited whispers. Even Ambrose found his interest piqued, though not primarily by the impressive talent ranking. He recognized Lysander from the book''s cover ¨C another piece falling into place on his mental chessboard. The youth''s haughty expression and the way he seemed to bask in the attention painted a clear picture. There was no way he could be the main character so he was probably the "main character''s rival," Ambrose concluded silently, filing the observation away.


    His enhanced perception caught every detail as more students were evaluated. Then came another familiar face.


    "Marcus Turner."


    The young man who approached the orb had what Ambrose could only describe as a "protagonist''s face" ¨C the kind of features that somehow managed to be both ordinary and memorable simultaneously. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "[Sword Intent] (Top Level)," the instructor declared.


    While others might have dismissed a merely Top Level talent, something about Marcus set off warning bells in Ambrose''s mind. He felt a familiar pull ¨C the same sensation he''d experienced with the doctor''s spatial pouch and in his parents'' presence. His Space-time talent resonated with something about Marcus, detecting traces of temporal essence. Yet his enhanced perception revealed no magical items or treasures that could account for this.


    The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. "A regressor," he thought, the pieces clicking into place. It made perfect sense ¨C who better to serve as a story''s protagonist than someone who had already lived through it once?


    The evaluation continued. When Hualing''s turn came, the orb remained dark, confirming her lack of an awakened talent. Adelaide''s test revealed a Top Level Accounting talent ¨C an intelligence-type ability similar to his own Observation talent. Ambrose noted with interest that such talents were actually quite rare. While most believed combat talents to be uncommon, the reality was that direct combat abilities were far more prevalent than support talents, with intelligence-type talents being the rarest of all.


    His analytical reverie was interrupted by a stir in the crowd. A girl with twin braids and glasses had approached the orb.


    "Liu Meihua: [Calculation] (Mythical)," the instructor announced, his voice betraying a hint of surprise.


    The hall fell silent. Mythical-grade talents were exceedingly rare, and for one to manifest as an intelligence-type was practically unheard of. Ambrose''s eyes narrowed as he added another piece to his increasingly complex puzzle.


    ...


    A wave of shocked murmurs rippled through the examination hall as the announcement of Meihua''s Mythical-grade talent echoed off the stone walls. Even the most composed nobles among the candidates couldn''t hide their surprise. The academy''s principal herself descended from her viewing platform, her crimson robes sweeping behind her as she approached to verify this extraordinary development personally.


    Meihua stood rigid as the principal''s power washed over her like a warm tide, probing the nature of her talent. Such verification was a simple matter for high-level heroes, and for someone of the principal''s caliber, it was as natural as breathing. Still, Meihua couldn''t help but fidget under the intense scrutiny of hundreds of eyes.


    Her mind raced even faster than her heartbeat. She had never encountered any mention of a [Calculation] talent in the original story. Although she didn''t know all of the talents in the book, she was familiar with all high level talents.She wondered if this was another change. From its name alone, she could deduce it was likely an intelligence-type talent, which actually suited her perfectly. Physical exertion had never been her strong suit ¨C the walk to this venue had left her more winded than she cared to admit.


    Experimentally, she tried to access her newfound talent, only to hit a familiar wall. Without mana or mental strength, she couldn''t tap into its capabilities. Unlike combat and support talents that naturally enhanced the body, intelligence-type talents required either mana or mental strength as fuel. She currently had neither.


    Released from the principal''s examination, Meihua made her way back to her position, her mind churning with possibilities. Understanding one''s talent was crucial for advancement ¨C like a mage spending years in physical training, pursuing the wrong path would yield minimal results and potentially block future progress entirely. But how could she develop a talent that seemed to have no precedent?


    She began methodically analyzing possibilities, drawing on her knowledge from the book. Perhaps it was an advanced evolution of the Accounting talent? Or maybe it branched from the Observation talent path, though she knew little about that particular line of development since the only character she knew who possessed it hadn''t featured prominently in the story.


    "Speaking of..." A prickling sensation on the back of her neck interrupted her thoughts. From her peripheral vision, she could see Ambrose Rothschild watching her with unsettling intensity. Her imagination began spinning wildly: "Is he that impressed by my talent? Wait... does he want me as a concubine? No, absolutely not! Although... he is the heir to a dukedom... if he becomes the duke of the north..." Her thoughts spiraled into increasingly elaborate scenarios, each more dramatic than the last.


    Meanwhile, Ambrose''s focused gaze held a completely different significance. While Meihua''s Mythical talent was certainly noteworthy, what truly captured his attention was the familiar resonance he detected ¨C the unmistakable trace of spatial essence emanating from her being. Initially, he had simply been surprised by the appearance of such a powerful candidate, but that spatial signature confirmed something far more intriguing: she was like him, another transmigrator.


    His suspicion was further confirmed by Marcus Turner''s reaction. The supposed regressor''s carefully controlled expression had cracked for just a moment, revealing a flash of genuine surprise that his enhanced perception hadn''t missed. That brief lapse told Ambrose everything he needed to know ¨C this development hadn''t been part of Turner''s previous timeline.

 Chapter 17: Entrance Exam [PART 3]

    Chapter 17: Entrance Exam [PART 3]Marcus stood frozen among the crowd, his practiced composure cracking for the first time since arriving at the academy. While he had already noticed several divergences from his previous timeline - Ambrose''s premature awakening, Adelaide''s unexpected survival, and her possession of a Top Level intelligence-type talent - these had been relatively minor variations. Things he could rationalize as butterfly effects from his interference or details he might have overlooked in his first life.


    But this? A Mythical-grade talent, completely unheard of in his previous timeline, manifesting in someone he had never encountered before? The implications sent a chill down his spine. Unique talents were already exceptionally rare, but for one to appear at Mythical grade was almost unprecedented. His eyes narrowed as he studied Liu Meihua''s unremarkable appearance, searching for any hint of familiarity. Nothing. He was certain he had never seen her before.


    "It seems the Spirit King''s power isn''t as perfect as promised," he thought bitterly, retreating deeper into the crowd. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him like a physical burden. If such significant changes were already occurring, how many of his future predictions could he truly rely on?


    Meanwhile, Ambrose observed the interplay of reactions with calculated interest until the instructor''s voice cut through his thoughts: "Ambrose Rothschild."


    He strode forward with measured confidence, ignoring the whispers that followed his every step. The crowd''s speculation about his talents was meaningless - he could see his abilities clearly displayed in his status panel. As he approached the testing orb, however, something unexpected occurred. A familiar sensation washed over him, but unlike previous instances where his Space-time talent had resonated, this time it was his Observation talent that stirred to life.


    The feeling intensified as he placed his hand on the crystalline surface. His analytical mind immediately recognized the significance - this was the first time his Observation talent had shown such a reaction. Could the testing orb hold some secret related to talent enhancement? Without hesitation, he activated his focused state:


    [Focus State](C) - Mastery over concentration has deepened significantly. The user can maintain unwavering attention for up to 45 minutes, with a 60% reduction in external distractions. Mental fatigue during observation tasks is reduced by 70%, and the user can now maintain awareness of their surroundings even while deeply focused on a specific target.


    Channeling his mental strength, he pressed his awareness deeper into the orb''s mysterious depths. The attraction grew stronger with each passing second until suddenly...


    [If you gaze long into the abyss...]


    The system''s warning came too late. Before the message could complete, Ambrose''s consciousness plunged into familiar darkness. The void embraced him like an old friend, pulling him deeper into its murky depths. Time lost all meaning as he drifted downward, his enhanced mind already calculating possibilities. His last experience with this void had cost him a week of consciousness - a duration that would certainly mean failing the entrance exam if repeated.


    But before he could pursue that line of thought further, system notifications began materializing before him:


    [Ding! The host has comprehended an advanced form of observation]


    [Your Observation talent has evolved into [God''s Eye] (Legendary)]


    [WARNING: Not enough stamina/mental strength to advance]


    [Using mental strength to forcefully advance Observation to [Mind''s Eye] (Top Rank)]


    [Yes/No]


    Learning from his previous experience with forced advancement, Ambrose immediately selected ''No''. He had already deduced the pattern in these notifications - the system was attempting to skip multiple ranks at once, a process that had nearly destroyed him last time.


    [Forceful advance canceled]


    [Observation has advanced into [Mind''s Eye - Semi Awakening] (High Level)]


    The unexpected notification caught him off guard. He hadn''t anticipated that rejecting the forced advancement would still allow for natural progression to an appropriate level. The logic became clear - by refusing to skip ranks, he had allowed his talent to evolve along its natural path.


    As this realization struck him, Ambrose suddenly noticed his surroundings had changed. Lost in his analysis, he had failed to notice his ascent through the void. Above him, a familiar light beckoned, promising return to consciousness - and hopefully, not another week-long coma.


    ...


    Consciousness returned to Ambrose with startling suddenness. He expected to find himself collapsed on a bed somewhere, perhaps facing another week-long recovery. Instead, he stood exactly where he had been, hand still pressed against the testing orb, as if no time had passed at all. Before he could fully process this peculiarity, the orb began displaying his talent reading: [Observation].


    Just as the rank was about to manifest, the crystalline surface flickered erratically. Hairline cracks appeared across its surface, spreading like lightning through glass, before the entire orb exploded into countless glittering shards. The crowd gasped collectively, but Ambrose maintained his composure, watching with clinical detachment as the fragments rained down around him.


    The instructor, clearly rattled but maintaining professional dignity, cleared his throat before announcing, "Ambrose Rothschild: [Observation] (Ordinary)." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ambrose descended from the stage with measured steps, his expression revealing nothing. Behind him, the instructor knelt to examine the shattered remains of the testing orb, his brow furrowed in confusion. The mystery deepened as the academy principal suddenly appeared beside him, proffering a replacement orb with one hand while studying the scattered fragments with intense focus.


    "Just what are you playing at, Victoria?" she murmured, her words barely audible even to enhanced hearing.


    Once safely back among the crowd, Ambrose immediately called up his status panel, eager to examine the changes he could already feel coursing through his being:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Human]


    [Physic: Weak Body (Can''t increase physical stats in any way)]


    [Title: Rothschild''s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through through Space & Time (Space-time Talent), One who gazes (+10 Intelligence)]


    [Talent: Mind''s Eye - Semi Awakened, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100 (Tip: Can at least take a punch, from a five year old that is)]


    [Mental Strength: 250/250]


    [Strength: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Stamina: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Agility: 0.1 (Average 5)]


    [Intelligence: 115+ (+10)]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Overview: You actually managed to advance your talent! I''m impressed. But this doesn''t change anything! Trash is still trash]


    His analytical mind quickly identified the key changes. The new title, "One who gazes," had granted him an additional ten intelligence points - a significant boost considering how heavily his abilities relied on that stat. Mental strength had also increased, climbing from 230 to 250, expanding his capacity for using his enhanced abilities.


    But the most dramatic change lay in his talent classification. The ordinary-ranked [Observation] had evolved into [Mind''s Eye - Semi Awakened], achieving High rank even in its incomplete state. Ambrose could already feel the difference - his perception had sharpened beyond what he''d thought possible, as if a veil had been lifted from his senses.


    Eager to understand the full scope of these changes, he pulled up his skills panel:


    [Observer''s Intuition - Transcended](Intrinsic) - Through deep understanding and countless observations, this natural talent has evolved beyond its enlightened state, reaching a transcendent level that fundamentally alters how the user perceives and processes reality. This evolution grants supernatural insight into both the physical and metaphysical realms, allowing for observation and analysis that transcends normal human limitations. (Subskills: [Mind''s Eye](S), [Heightened Perception](A), [Pattern Recognition](A), [Thought Transmission](A), [Detail Retention](B), [Focus State](B))


    The universal rank improvement across his subskills explained the dramatic enhancement in his perceptual abilities. Yet something about the change seemed disproportionate - the improvement felt more substantial than a simple rank increase should warrant. After careful consideration, Ambrose theorized that talent rank acted as a multiplier on ability effectiveness. Even identical abilities would perform differently depending on the underlying talent''s grade, explaining why Higher-ranked talents held such significant advantages over their lower-ranked counterparts.


    Finally, he turned his attention to his newest ability:


    [Mind''s Eye](S) - The pinnacle of observational ability, granting the power to perceive the true nature of all things. This supernatural sense allows the user to instantly analyze and understand the complete information of any person or object they focus on, including stats, skills, abilities, history, and hidden properties. For living beings, it can reveal their true nature, current state, emotional condition, and potential futures. For objects, it unveils their composition, purpose, magical properties, and even their past. The depth of information scales with the user''s mental strength, and prolonged use on powerful subjects can cause mental fatigue. At its peak, this ability can even perceive conceptual information like fate, destiny, and metaphysical properties.

 Chapter 18: Entrance Exam [PART 4]

    Chapter 18: Entrance Exam [PART 4]The examination hall stretched vast and silent, sunlight streaming through tall windows to illuminate rows of students hunched over their papers. The only sounds were the gentle scratching of pens and occasional nervous shuffling of feet. Ambrose sat in the furthest corner of the room, physically isolated from his peers in what he recognized as a calculated precaution against his Observation talent. A faint smile played across his lips beneath the black blindfold ¨C their preventive measures were hopelessly outdated, his skills were already far ahead of normal observation and just a while back, they had advanced even further.


    He gazed down at his examination paper, activating [Mind''s Eye]. Instantly, information flooded his consciousness ¨C not just the questions and answers, but the entire history of the document. He could see the instructor who had prepared it three days ago, working late into the night by candlelight, even the slight hesitation in their brush strokes when deciding between different question variants. The answers flowed from his pen with effortless precision. While his extensive study since arriving at the academy had already equipped him with this knowledge, why expend unnecessary effort when a more efficient path presented itself?


    Within five minutes, Ambrose completed his exam. Rather than immediately submitting it, however, a spark of curiosity ignited in his mind. Could he accomplish what the instructors so feared? Not for any practical benefit ¨C his paper was already complete ¨C but as an exercise in pushing his abilities to their limits.


    He tried using his enhanced sight but realized that he couldnt see much, after all, he couldnt see through people and many papers were flatly on the desk so he didnt have the best angle.


    He closed his eyes behind the blindfold, tuning his enhanced hearing to the symphony of scratching pens. After ten seconds of careful calibration, he had isolated each distinct sound, filtering out all ambient noise, rustling clothes, nervous breathing, the occasional cough - until only the whisper of pen strokes remained. With methodical precision, he activated his abilities:


    [Focus State](B) - Enables the user to maintain supernatural levels of concentrated observation indefinitely. The user can maintain unwavering attention for up to 24 hours with no degradation in performance, with a 90% reduction in the impact of external distractions. This state eliminates mental fatigue during observation tasks entirely, allowing for continuous detailed investigation. The user can maintain awareness of multiple focal points simultaneously while in this state.


    [Pattern Recognition](A) - Accelerates the brain''s ability to process and connect information to supernatural levels. The user processes visual patterns and sequences 400% faster than normal, instantly spotting irregularities in behavior and environment that others would miss entirely. This skill grants an almost prescient ability to link seemingly unrelated pieces of information, making it invaluable for complex problem-solving and prediction. The user can analyze multiple pattern streams simultaneously without mental strain.


    In his mind''s eye, a pristine white canvas materialized. Each pen stroke became a distinct line of data, categorized and sorted by its origin. His supernatural processing abilities separated and tracked dozens of simultaneous writing patterns, assigning each to its own mental whiteboard. The task would have overwhelmed any normal mind, but Ambrose''s enhanced capabilities made it manageable:


    [Thought Acceleration](A) - Dramatically enhances mental processing speed by a factor of 100. This massive acceleration allows for near-instantaneous analysis of situations, enhanced decision-making capabilities, and superior problem-solving abilities. Time seems to slow from the user''s perspective as their mind processes information at heightened speeds.


    [Time Perception](B) - Enhances the brain''s ability to process information in real-time. Users gain enhanced ability to track multiple events simultaneously, along with improved situational awareness and superior reaction time to observed events. This skill also grants better prediction of immediate outcomes, allowing the user to stay several steps ahead in any situation.


    As the examination progressed, Ambrose maintained his intense focus, transforming each captured pen stroke into coherent text in his mind. Context and pattern recognition allowed him to match answers to their corresponding questions, building a complete mental map of every exam paper in the room. The strain began to show ¨C a thin trickle of blood leaked from his nose, staining the corner of his paper crimson ¨C but he persisted, pushing his abilities to their absolute limit.


    Finally, as the examination neared its end, Ambrose opened his eyes beneath the blindfold. "Success," he whispered, satisfaction evident in his voice. He had done more than just complete the test... Rising smoothly from his seat, he handed his blood-spotted paper to the passing instructor and strode from the room, leaving behind a sea of still-writing students.


    ...


    Afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the academy courtyard as Ambrose sat alone on a weathered stone bench, dabbing at his nose with a silk handkerchief. Each touch came away crimson, the bleeding showing no signs of stopping. The physical manifestation of his mental strain seemed almost trivial compared to the pounding in his head ¨C as if someone had taken a hammer to the inside of his skull.


    Through the haze of discomfort, he finally focused on the system notifications that had been patiently hovering in his field of vision:


    [Ding! You have comprehended a large amount of information]


    [Your observation talent has greatly improved] S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Ding! You have pushed yourself to the limit]


    [You have reached [Mind Limit] using mind related abilities in this state is not recommended]


    [Ding! You have pushed your mind beyond the limit]


    [Intelligence +10]


    [Skill [Mathematician] has been upgraded]


    Despite the mounting pressure in his head, which felt ready to burst at any moment, curiosity drove him to check his skills panel. The moment it materialized before him, his eyes widened in shock:


    [Mathematician](Unique) - A rare talent that fundamentally alters the mind''s processing capabilities, granting exceptional mental powers and analytical abilities that transcend normal human limitations. This supernatural mathematical insight allows for complex calculations and analysis far beyond ordinary comprehension, enabling the user to perceive and manipulate abstract concepts through pure mathematical understanding. (Subskills: [Rational Mind](S), [Mental Fortress](S), [Perfect Recall](S), [Thought Acceleration](S), [Parallel Processing](S), [Time Perception](A))


    "S-so many S ranks," he managed to think, the revelation too overwhelming for his overtaxed mind. The handkerchief slipped from his nerveless fingers as consciousness fled, his body slumping sideways on the bench. The last thing he registered was the cool stone against his cheek, and then darkness claimed him completely.

 Chapter 19: Entrance Exam [PART 5]

    Chapter 19: Entrance Exam [PART 5]Meihua walked through the academy grounds, releasing a weary sigh. Despite her confidence in the written exam given her unique knowledge from reading the novel, the questions had proven unexpectedly challenging. She''d even needed to draw upon information from the wiki she''d browsed in her previous life. Still, a small smile played across her lips ¨C while difficult, she was reasonably certain she''d secured a good grade.


    Her contemplative stroll came to an abrupt halt when she spotted a figure sprawled across a stone bench ahead. Curiosity piqued her interest ¨C this area was restricted to examination candidates, so whoever this was must have finished early like her. The casual display of sleeping in such a place struck her as remarkably brazen.


    As she drew closer, details began emerging that made her pulse quicken. The figure''s clothing was unmistakably noble attire, and not just any noble garments ¨C these were crafted from materials so fine they practically screamed wealth. She found herself wondering which aristocratic house would soon face embarrassment from their heir being caught in such an undignified position.


    Her steps slowed as more distinctive features came into view: pale skin that seemed almost translucent, a frame so delicate it appeared almost fragile, and most strikingly, hair as pure white as fresh snow. Her heart began pounding against her ribs as realization dawned. The delicate features, peaceful in repose despite their helpless expression, and that distinctive black blindfold ¨C there was no mistaking it. She stood before Ambrose Rothschild himself.


    Meihua''s head whipped around frantically, scanning for any sign of observers. Finding none, she released a shaky breath of relief. The absence of his infamous maid was particularly fortunate ¨C she had no desire to discover what that crazy girl might do upon finding someone near her master. It was precisely this potential for violence that had convinced Meihua to avoid association with Ambrose, that and his sparse presence in the novel beyond his untimely demise at the hands of... She quickly redirected her thoughts away from that grim future.


    Just as she prepared to retreat, a treacherous thought wormed its way into her mind. Was she really going to abandon such a perfect opportunity? Awakening him now could trigger an event flag, potentially opening the path to becoming a wealthy mistress. She squeezed her eyes shut, embarrassed by her own wild imagination.


    But when her eyes reopened, something had fundamentally changed. Her gaze fixed on Ambrose''s sleeping form, twisting into something predatory. Her arm stretched out of its own accord as an unsettling giggle escaped her lips. "So pretty..." she whispered, the words carrying an obsessive edge. "I want it..." Her hand crept closer and closer to his face.


    Just before contact, her eyes flashed with brilliant blue light, and she jerked to a stop. Her hands flew to her head as understanding crashed over her ¨C she''d been caught in a [Charm] effect. Fortunately, she''d managed to break free, but the implications troubled her. Had the [Weak Body] physique already fully awakened? No, that seemed impossible this early in the timeline. More likely, his sleeping state had somehow amplified the effect.


    Her mind raced even as her heart continued its frantic rhythm. Events were accelerating beyond her ability to track them, diverging wildly from her remembered plot points. She desperately wished she had awakened her mana already ¨C at least then she''d have some means of self-defense.


    The thought had barely formed when she felt cold steel press against her neck. She didn''t need to look to understand her situation. Without even turning, she knew she was thoroughly, absolutely screwed.


    ...


    "What''s going on?"


    "I don''t know, I heard someone is fighting."


    "What happened?"


    "I think she attacked her young master in his sleep."


    "Really?" S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The fragments of conversation filtered through Ambrose''s returning consciousness, growing clearer with each passing moment. His eyelids fluttered open, mind still foggy from his earlier collapse. For several seconds, he simply lay there, reorienting himself to his surroundings. "Did I pass out?" he wondered, gradually becoming aware that he was still on the same bench where he''d lost consciousness.


    As his vision cleared, he noticed the crowd gathered before him ¨C or more precisely, gathered around Hualing, who stood at its center like an avenging angel. She held a knife to Meihua''s throat with unwavering precision, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced by cold professionalism.


    "I''m telling the truth, I found him lying there. I didn''t attack him!" Meihua pleaded, her hands raised in surrender. The tremor in her voice suggested this wasn''t her first attempt at explanation.


    Adelaide stood at a careful distance, trying to defuse the situation while clearly mindful of becoming collateral damage herself. "Let''s calm down! Fighting on academy grounds is prohibited," she urged, making placating gestures with her hands.


    Hualing''s response was immediate and sharp: "I saw you trying to touch the young master, do you think I''m blind?"


    "I did try but..." Meihua began, only to be cut off.


    "No excuses!" Hualing shouted, the knife flashing as she moved to strike.


    Time seemed to slow as Meihua watched the blade approach. Her thoughts raced with bitter irony ¨C her second life ending before it had truly begun, and over such a misunderstanding. ''What an unreasonable brat, I didn''t even touch him,'' she thought, awaiting the inevitable pain.


    "Stop!"


    The command cut through the tension like a blade. Though soft and low, Ambrose''s voice carried unmistakable authority. Hualing froze mid-strike, the knife halting inches from its target.


    "Young master!" she cried, spinning toward Ambrose with outstretched arms. Her protective fury instantly transformed into joyful relief as she moved to embrace him.


    Ambrose''s hand shot up in desperate self-defense. "Don''t touch me! I''ll die," he protested weakly. It wasn''t hyperbole ¨C given his Weak Body physique, her enthusiastic embrace might well have ended the Rothschild line then and there.


    Understanding dawned on Hualing''s face as she caught herself, quickly dropping into a formal bow. "I apologize for disturbing the young master''s sleep," she offered contritely.


    Meihua, still processing her near-death experience, found her voice. "So you admit you knew he was just sleeping yet you want to kill me?" she demanded, indignation overcoming fear. "Do you think you can do whatever you want? Do you believe people will ignore how you bully others?" She turned to the crowd for support, only to find it rapidly dissolving.


    "It''s actually a matter involving the Rothschild heir?"


    "I just remembered that I haven''t yet fed my chickens and it''s already noon so I''ll get going now."


    "Same."


    "Just remembered that my wife''s sister''s girlfriend''s uncle just gave birth so I''ll be leaving."


    "You have a wife?"


    "Shut up!"


    Within seconds, the crowd had evaporated like morning dew under a summer sun. Adelaide approached Meihua with diplomatic grace, giving her a sympathetic pat before gently suggesting she leave before matters escalated further. Meihua needed no convincing, departing with a silent vow to never again cross paths with the crazy maid.


    Ambrose observed the scene with quiet resignation as Adelaide bowed and greeted him with a respectful "Master." He acknowledged her with a slight nod before accepting her assistance in standing ¨C the practical exams would begin soon. But first, he confiscated Hualing''s latest knife, adding it to his growing collection. "A backup backup maybe?" he mused, trying to convince himself that surely, this must be the last of her hidden weapons.


    The look of innocent disappointment on Hualing''s face did nothing to reassure him.

 Chapter 20: Survival [PART 1]

    Chapter 20: Survival [PART 1]The instructor''s voice had grown hoarse from repetition, yet he maintained his stance before the swirling azure portal, methodically distributing bracelets to the steady stream of cadets passing through. The ethereal light from the portal cast dancing shadows across his stern features as he delivered his briefing once again.


    "I''ll repeat again," he called out, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. "The test is survival based, lasting for one month. Your score directly correlates with your survival time." His eyes narrowed as he emphasized the next point. "Hurting fellow students is strictly prohibited!" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The portal''s gentle hum provided a constant backdrop to his words. "The moment you enter, you''ll be teleported to a random location." He paused, catching sight of a couple approaching with intertwined fingers. "And no, holding hands doesn''t mean you get transported together," he added with a touch of exasperation.


    "If you encounter any problems and are unable to continue, press the button in your bracelet for instant extraction..." his voice continued to echo as the procession of students moved forward.


    Marcus approached with measured steps, collecting his bracelet with practiced ease. As he drew closer to the portal, a slight smirk played across his features. The academy''s presentation of this as a simple test seemed almost comical to him. His gaze swept across his fellow students, noting their casual demeanor with a mixture of pity and disdain. In his assessment, most wouldn''t last more than a few days, let alone the full month. With one final breath, his hand instinctively brushed against the familiar weight of his sword at his waist. Then, without hesitation, he stepped through, vanishing into the dimensional void.


    At the back of the line, Ambrose observed the proceedings with growing unease. He had already convinced Hualing and Adelaide to go ahead, though Hualing had been particularly resistant to the idea. He had to explain to her that it wouldn''t matter either way since they''d be teleported randomly upon entry to finally persuade her to proceed without him.


    As the line dwindled and his turn approached, Ambrose''s apprehension only grew. He collected his bracelet, studying the swirling portal with a critical eye. Years of reading similar scenarios in stories had taught him better ¨C when a main character was involved in such scenes, unexpected things often happened. Dungeon breaks, high level monsters, sabotage... and when multiple protagonists were involved, the likelihood of unexpected developments increased exponentially. With himself, Marcus, and Meihua all potentially qualifying as main characters, he couldn''t shake the feeling that something extraordinary was bound to occur.


    What troubled him even more was the portal''s peculiar effect on him. It seemed to call to him, almost demanding his entry. His space-time talent was resonating more powerfully than ever before. If it was what he thought, there was a high possibility of awakening a space-related skill. However, such an awakening would likely render him unconscious and vulnerable in an unknown location. Although he could cancel the forcefull awakening, he wouldn''t bet on it actually working. He looked at the description of one of his abilities:


    [Thought Transmission](A) - An evolved form of mental communication that approaches true telepathy. The user can transmit their gathered information telepathically to multiple willing recipients within a 500-meter radius, complete with sensory details from their observations. They gain near-perfect sensitivity to mental transmissions in their vicinity, able to detect, intercept, and even redirect telepathic communications within 300 meters. This sensitivity extends to reading surface thoughts and emotional states of those around them.


    With a resigned sigh, he formulated a hasty contingency plan. He would attempt to establish thought transmission with both Hualing and Adelaide immediately upon entry, hoping at least one of them would be within range to locate him before anything else did.


    The moment he crossed the threshold, he activated his ability, but before he could complete the transmission, system notifications began flooding his consciousness:


    [Ding! The host has come into contact with a large amount of spatial force]


    [Ding! Requirements met! Forcefully awakening an observation related skill with space essence]


    "Dammit! You didn''t even ask me this time," Ambrose managed to grumble before consciousness slipped away, his body crumpling onto the grass below.


    ...


    Marcus materialized in a vast expanse of grassland, his trained instincts immediately prompting him to scan his surroundings with careful precision. Only after completing a thorough assessment did he allow his guard to lower slightly. His mind quickly prioritized the essentials - shelter and sustenance would be his first objectives. Though he knew the instructors had kept certain details to themselves, the fundamental nature of this trial remained true to their words - survival was paramount.


    As he traversed the terrain in search of a suitable location for shelter, a twinge of regret nagged at him. His past life''s memories of these trial grounds were frustratingly vague - he had been too preoccupied with running from... The thought dissolved as his ears caught the distinct sound of flowing water. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the source.


    The sight of the river sparked an unexpected reaction in him. In a moment of pure, unbridled joy, he leaped into the water, splashing about like a child before abruptly freezing mid-motion. "How embarrassing," he chided himself, somewhat mortified by his display. He tried to rationalize his behavior - surely the relentless sun justified such excitement over finding water? The excuse felt weak even to his own ears.


    With water secured, his next priority crystallized - establishing shelter nearby would guarantee access to both hydration and potential food sources through fishing. After careful consideration, he selected a spot roughly thirty meters from the riverbank - close enough for convenience but far enough to avoid potential flooding and other water related risks.


    The construction process began with him cutting down logs and using his sword to dig holes for the support posts. He found himself apologizing to his trusted blade for this mundane abuse of its craftsmanship.


    Sword: (¨s¡ã¡õ¡ã)¨s¦à ©ß©¥©ß


    Using common reeds gathered from the riverside, he bound the logs together, then covered the structure with a layer of leaves. The result was... modest, to put it kindly. Calling it a house would be generous to the point of delusion, but functionality mattered more than aesthetics in this situation.


    After completing the shelter, he returned to the river to carefully clean his sword with a cloth before returning it to its sheath. His attention turned to his next challenge - food procurement. Looking at the rushing river, he reassessed his initial optimism about fishing. The task suddenly seemed more daunting than he''d anticipated as he lacked both tools and skills. With daylight waning, he decided to focus his immediate efforts on hunting small animals in the surrounding area. He needed to secure some form of sustenance before darkness fell.


    The entire time, a part of him remained acutely aware that this was just the beginning. The real challenges of this month-long trial still lay ahead, but at least he had established a basic foothold for survival.

 Chapter 21: Survival [PART 2]

    Chapter 21: Survival [PART 2]Hualing crashed through the forest undergrowth, her urgent steps carrying her deeper into the wilderness. Branches snagged at her dress as she moved, until one particularly stubborn one caught the fabric. She yanked at it violently, the expensive material tearing with a sharp rip that seemed to echo through the trees.


    "Dammit! Nothing is going right for me," she thought, fingers fumbling uselessly with the ruined cloth. The tear was beyond simple repair, and the realization only fueled her mounting frustration.


    Suddenly, her body stiffened. When her mouth opened, the voice that emerged wasn''t quite her own ¨C it carried an edge of possession. "That dress was given to me by the young master when I became his personal maid," the foreign voice declared through her lips.


    Hualing clutched her head, pain lancing through her skull as she fought for control. "Would you just shut up! I''m trying to save us here!" she snarled, struggling against the original owner''s attempts. That''s right, she was actually the one doing the possession, and it looked like it was working too. Until it wasn''t...


    The internal battle raged until her muscles locked completely, leaving her frozen in place. The world around the two fighting for dominance faded as they found themselves pulled into the mental realm.


    The original Hualing found herself in a dark chamber where she hung suspended by ethereal chains. Before her sat a figure on an obsidian throne, a mirror image of herself but slightly older, regarding her with unconcealed disdain. She had been the one controlling her body ever since she entered the dungeon.


    She thought to herself that this split personality of her''s was delusional, believing she was from the future. That''s why she always locked her inside the mental realm. But she had somehow managed to escape, even managing to turn the situation around. Hualing guessed that she probably took advantage of when she was disoriented after the spatial transfer.


    "Just give up the body and I can save both of us," the older looking Hualing spoke, her tone dripping with condescension. Her thoughts churned with frustration. She''d explained the situation to her younger self countless times, yet this unreasonable version of herself refused to listen to reason.


    "Tch! I should''ve just taken the Spirit King''s offer," she thought bitterly. Her attempt to regress with only her own power had backfired spectacularly, resulting in two versions of herself trapped in the same body. And she wasn''t even the dominant one.


    "How about you let me go first and I''ll think about it?" the original Hualing suggested with false sweetness.


    "Do you think I''m stupid!" The older one slammed her fist against the throne''s armrest, her composure cracking.


    "Do you also think I''m stupid?" came the swift retort.


    The older version drew a deep breath, visibly struggling to control her rage. When she spoke again, her voice had softened to something approaching pleading. "Could you please give me the body for just one day? I really don''t have any bad intentions."


    "Hmph! Says the one who''s got me tied up," the younger one scoffed.


    "Well... that''s..." Before she could fabricate an excuse, a familiar voice cut through their shared consciousness like a blade:


    [...Hualing...I]


    The telepathic message cut off abruptly, leaving both versions in stunned silence. The original Hualing''s expression darkened ominously.


    "Wait! Don''t do anything stupid..." The older version rose in alarm, but it was already too late. The chains binding the original Hualing began to crack, supernatural fractures spreading across their links until they shattered completely.


    Released from her bonds, the original Hualing didn''t even spare her counterpart a glance as she strode past. Massive chains, even larger than those that had bound her, materialized from the darkness and began coiling around the older version.


    "Wait! Don''t do this!" the older one screamed, desperation evident in her voice. "I know how¡ª" The chains tightened, cutting off her words until she managed to gasp out, "¡ªI know how to save him!"


    The original Hualing froze, and with her, the encroaching chains.


    "He used a telepathy skill," the older one pressed her advantage quickly. "Do you know how to track it? How are you going to save him?" Noting her counterpart''s downcast expression, she pushed harder. "He''s probably being attacked right now. With how weak he is, how long do you think he''ll last?"


    Hualing remained silent, her face a mask of internal conflict.


    "Just give me the body and I''ll save him. You like him, don''t you? I''ll save him ¨C all you have to do is give up the body. Small price, right?"


    "No!" The response was immediate and firm.


    "What? You don''t care about him anymore? Hmph, I guess that''s all your love is worth," the older one sneered.


    "No," Hualing''s voice was steel. "I won''t give you the body. You''ll just tell me where he is."


    "And why would I tell you? What''s in it for me?" the older one scoffed. But her expression soon shifted to horror as she realized what was happening in the physical world. "No! What are you doing?"


    In the physical realm, Hualing''s body stood perfectly still, a knife pressed against her own throat. A maniacal smile spread across her face as she spoke, "Just like the young master, I hate people who try to take advantage of me."


    The blade began to move in a slitting gesture...


    ...


    Marcus trudged through the forest, a satisfied smile playing across his features as he carried two freshly caught hares. The successful hunt had lifted his spirits ¨C these would provide sustenance for tonight and tomorrow morning before he needed to venture out again. The weight of the game felt reassuring in his hands, a tangible reminder that this time would be different than the last...


    His contented musings were interrupted by an unusual sound ¨C barely audible, like the gentle buzz of a solitary bee. Despite its faintness, the sound caught his attention with surprising clarity. He turned in place, scanning his surroundings, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just as he was about to dismiss it as imagination, a sharp sting pierced his ear.


    Whirling around, he found himself face-to-face with a diminutive creature hovering at eye level. It was humanoid in form, with transparent wings that caught the filtered sunlight, its entire body no larger than a common housefly.


    "A spirit?" he breathed, amazement coloring his voice. Spirits were rare beings, naturally born from the world''s source itself. While most were benign creatures that served as nature''s guardians, some possessed immense power ¨C like the Spirit King who had granted Marcus his chance at regression. The memory stirred questions in his mind. Had this spirit somehow sensed his connection to their king?


    Looking more closely at the tiny being, he noted its seemingly limited intelligence as it merely buzzed and made high-pitched sounds rather than speaking. The observation earned him another sharp sting to his ear, this one more painful than the first. Before he could protest, the spirit darted away, then paused mid-flight, turning back as if waiting.


    "You want me to follow you?" Marcus asked, understanding dawning. The spirit''s only response was to continue its flight, clearly expecting him to follow.


    As they traveled deeper into the forest, Marcus''s mind raced with possibilities. The presence of a spirit in this testing ground was highly unusual ¨C spirits typically avoided dungeons, viewing them as violations of natural order. Perhaps it sought help for an injured companion who had entered by mistake? Or maybe it wanted to show him some hidden treasure? Each theory seemed more fantastical than the last.


    His speculations halted abruptly as they reached their destination. The tiny spirit flew toward what appeared to be another spirit, this one significantly larger ¨C about the size of Marcus''s palm. While still small by human standards, for a spirit, this size was practically a giant. Though size didn''t directly translate to strength.


    To his surprise, the smaller spirit merged seamlessly with the larger one. Marcus assumed this must be the main body, but before he could approach, the newly merged spirit darted behind a tree. He took a step forward, thinking it merely shy, but the spirit vanished completely, leaving him bewildered. Why lead him here only to disappear?


    It was then that he noticed he wasn''t alone. Lying on the ground was a figure he recognized ¨C Ambrose Rothschild, apparently sound asleep. Marcus approached slowly, his expression shifting into something predatory as he drew closer. The sleeping figure''s delicate features and pure white hair created an almost ethereal image in the dappled forest light.


    "S-so pretty, and defenseless," he whispered, his voice taking on an unsettling quality. His hand reached out toward the unconscious form, trembling slightly with anticipation. "I want it!"


    A/N - Alr dude wtf


    sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 22: Survival [PART 3]

    Chapter 22: Survival [PART 3]Marcus continued his advance toward Ambrose, moving as if in a trance. When his fingers were mere inches from their target, he suddenly stopped ¨C his hand gripping the sharp edge of his own sword with such force that blood welled between his fingers. As clarity returned to his eyes, he released a shaky breath of relief.


    "That was close..." he murmured, stepping back on unsteady legs. He''d recognized the [Charm] effect the moment it took hold, but breaking free had proven nearly impossible without resorting to pain. Retreating several meters from Ambrose''s sleeping form, he wrapped a strip of cloth around his bleeding hand, mind racing with implications.


    In his previous life, he''d never directly interacted with Ambrose Rothschild. His knowledge was limited to common gossip ¨C the sickly heir who later died. The presence of a [Charm] ability came as a complete surprise. Yet something felt off about the situation. The effect seemed passive rather than actively deployed, suggesting Ambrose might be unaware of it entirely. It made sense ¨C if word got out that the Rothschild heir practiced [Charm] techniques, the scandal would shake the kingdom''s foundations.


    "Perhaps some sort of special physique?" Marcus mused aloud. He shook his head, deciding it didn''t matter. Better to avoid any association with the Rothschilds entirely. He turned to leave but hesitated mid-step, something compelling him to look back at the defenseless figure.


    After a moment''s contemplation, he returned to Ambrose''s side. This time, prepared for the [Charm] effect, he maintained his composure as he carefully lifted the unconscious heir in a princess carry and strode away from the clearing.


    The tiny spirit materialized once more after their departure, hovering near the spot where blood had dripped onto the forest floor. It studied the crimson drops with apparent fascination before vanishing again at the sound of approaching footsteps.


    Hualing emerged into the clearing, immediately dropping into a crouch beside the bloodstains. Her expression bordered on maniacal as she dipped a finger into the cooling blood and brought it to her lips. Her tongue darted out for a taste before she spoke internally, "Minghua, is this really the place?"


    The older personality''s voice carried a note of pride as it responded in her mind. "Of course! Now do you believe my skills are real?" A pause, then confusion. "Also, why are you calling me Minghua?" S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, you also call yourself Hualing, so it''s harder for the readers to distinguish between us," Hualing replied matter-of-factly.


    "What? Yet you call me delusional..." Minghua muttered.


    Hualing spread her arms wide, gesturing at the empty clearing. "Anyway, this isn''t the place."


    "What do you mean? Are you doubting my skills?" Minghua''s indignation was palpable.


    "You tell me," Hualing responded dryly, emphasizing the obvious absence of their target.


    "Well, I said I''d tell you where the transmission came from, not where the transmitter is," Minghua defended. "Who knows? Maybe he got eaten already. Isn''t that blood over there?"


    Hualing''s response was immediate and certain. "No, he wasn''t! This isn''t the young master''s blood. And it''s also not monster blood."


    "Well, maybe the owner of the blood took him." Minghua paused, then added with suspicious curiosity, "Also, why do you know the taste of his blood?"


    Before Hualing could respond, Minghua pressed her advantage. "Anyway, give me the body and I''ll track the owner of that blood for you. And don''t tell me to just tell you ¨C I can''t use this skill without a body."


    But Hualing had already moved on, her nose twitching in an almost canine manner as she sampled the air. "No need! I can smell the young master''s scent nearby."


    Minghua could only respond with mental exasperation: (;Ò»_Ò»)


    ...


    Ambrose found himself once again floating in the murky void. By now, after multiple visits, the experience had become almost familiar. He released a weary sigh as he contemplated the system''s seemingly antagonistic nature ¨C its sarcastic overviews, its tendency to forcefully awaken skills without consent. His thoughts turned to his physical body, wondering how long he''d been unconscious this time. If there were monsters nearby...


    At least he hoped this awakening would be instant like during the talent test. Otherwise, he might not have a body to return to. As he drifted, he pondered the nature of this strange space. Was it his mental realm? If so, why was it always so chaotic?


    Before he could pursue these thoughts further, a notification materialized before him, demanding his attention:


    [Spatial Dominion - Semi-Awakened](Intrinsic) - A rare inborn talent that grants the user a growing understanding and limited control over space itself. Currently in a semi-awakened state, the abilities show great potential but place significant strain on the user''s mental strength. (Subskills: [Spatial Awareness](S), [Blink](A), [Spatial Affinity](B))


    His eyes widened as he studied the skill''s description. Something felt different about this one ¨C it seemed more like a space-related skill with observation essence rather than the reverse. As he delved deeper into the subskills'' descriptions, understanding dawned. His Space-time talent was fundamentally a combat or support-type ability, which explained why awakening related skills had proven nearly impossible without mana. The system had ingeniously circumvented this limitation by using his Observation talent as a foundation, allowing the skills to manifest as intelligence-type abilities fueled by mental strength instead.


    "It seems the system is really a genius," he admitted, feeling somewhat sheepish about his earlier doubts. "I''m sorry for doubting you before."


    System: [?(????)?]


    Meanwhile, in the physical world, Marcus stretched his arms with a prolonged yawn, his muscles stiff from a night of outdoor vigilance. He glanced at his hastily constructed shelter ¨C a humble structure he hadn''t even gotten to use. His gaze shifted to Ambrose''s sleeping form, carefully covered with Marcus''s jacket to prevent another incident with that strange charm effect.


    "Still hasn''t woken up," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He''d already examined the unconscious noble for signs of foul play or injury but found nothing amiss. The young heir appeared to be simply sleeping, though the duration was concerning.


    A heavy sigh escaped Marcus as he contemplated his situation. The last thing he''d wanted was to get involved with this privileged heir, but circumstances had left him little choice. He knew the academy''s observation systems would be monitoring the trial ¨C if he had left Ambrose out there and something happened to him, Victoria would probably blame him for it and his ending wouldn''t be good. Even if it would have nothing to do with him, that unreasonable woman would really kill him.


    In fact, given her character, she might even wipe out the entire academy for failing to protect her son. He''d already seen it happen once... Well, it didn''t matter now, he''d just treat it as him saving the academy. "Sigh, being a hero is really hard," he mused aloud, resigning himself to his role as reluctant protector.


    A sudden prickling sensation at the back of his neck cut his reflection short. He spun around, instincts screaming danger, and found himself staring into a pair of ferocious eyes. His first thought was "beast," but the glint of steel quickly corrected that assumption. A knife caught the filtered sunlight, its wielder unmistakably human.


    Marcus''s hand moved automatically to his hip, grasping at empty air where his sword should have been. The realization hit him like a physical blow ¨C he''d removed the weapon before sleeping. His last conscious thought as Hualing launched herself at him, knife poised to strike, was a simple: "I''m cooked."

 Chapter 23: Survival [PART 4]

    Chapter 23: Survival [PART 4]The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy as Meihua and Adelaide walked among a larger group of students they''d joined for safety. Both women, acutely aware of their physical limitations, had gravitated toward each other earlier, recognizing the wisdom in mutual protection. Now they moved with the crowd, each lost in their own calculations.


    Adelaide couldn''t help stealing glances at her companion, her merchant''s mind whirring with possibilities. Everything about Meihua seemed determinedly ordinary - from her unremarkable features to her common bearing. Nothing in her appearance or demeanor suggested someone worthy of special attention, let alone the bearer of a Mythical-grade talent. The contradiction gnawed at Adelaide''s thoughts.


    As a merchant''s daughter, Adelaide understood the value of early investment. While raw talent didn''t necessarily guarantee success, it provided an undeniable advantage in the long term. Her keen eyes hadn''t missed Ambrose''s interest in Meihua during the talent evaluation. If she could secure Meihua''s loyalty first, it would demonstrate her value to the young master beyond mere capability. The thought spurred her determination - she couldn''t afford to remain just another "somewhat capable" subordinate in Ambrose''s growing circle of influence.


    While Adelaide plotted recruitment strategies, Meihua''s mind traveled different paths entirely. Her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, matching landmarks against her knowledge from the novel. The familiar territory presented her with a dilemma: should she seek out Marcus''s future campsite? Her remembered plot points suggested his location, but with how rapidly events were diverging from the original story, such knowledge felt increasingly unreliable.


    Her thoughts turned to her second option - the hidden cave containing a precious mana crystal. In this world, while gold served as common currency, awakened heroes preferred trading in items that contained mana. The most commonly used items were mana stones. Mana crystals, being concentrated forms of these stones, held immense value. Finding one could provide the means for her own awakening. Yet doubt crept in as she considered her non-combat talent. Even if she managed to awaken her abilities, how much would it really improve her situation?


    A bitter smile crossed her lips as she acknowledged an even greater obstacle - the cave''s guardian. Her story knowledge warned her that even Marcus, with his regression advantages, had barely survived that encounter even with Lysander Blackvale''s assistance. For someone like her, attempting such a feat alone would be suicide. And she didn''t even know if the boss might have changed too...


    Her introspection ended abruptly as she collided with the person ahead of her, the sudden stop rippling through the group. Both she and Adelaide tensed, recognizing a shift in the atmosphere. At the front of the gathering, Lysander Blackvale had taken center stage, his noble bearing commanding attention.


    "I have some information about the test that others don''t know," he announced, his voice carrying the natural authority of his bloodline. "Actually, surviving isn''t the most important aspect of the trial."


    Murmurs spread through the crowd. Coming from a scion of the Blackvale family - one of the kingdom''s ten great houses that stood just below the royal family - such information carried significant weight.


    "Actually, there''s another way to earn points," Lysander continued, satisfaction evident in his tone as he held his audience captive. "And that''s hunting monsters. It''s quicker, and you don''t have to camp out in this dungeon just to receive the minimal grade. Just hunting a few monsters is enough to gain more points than you would for surviving the entire month."


    The revelation sent excited whispers through the group. The strategy seemed perfect - quick, effective, and relatively low-risk given the emergency extraction option. As long as they pressed the button on their bracelets, they would be instantly teleported out but they would still keep all their accumulated points. Students began discussing potential hunting parties, their earlier survival concerns forgotten in the face of this apparently easier path to success.


    ...


    Adelaide maintained a carefully neutral expression as she listened to Lysander''s announcement. The advantages of noble birth were on full display - privileged information flowing freely to those born into the right families. However, this particular revelation held no surprise for her; both she and Hualing had already received this intelligence from Ambrose himself.


    Her merchant''s instincts drove her to gauge reactions, and she noticed with interest that Meihua showed no sign of surprise either. The observation suggested her potential recruit had access to her own sources of information - another point in favor of securing her loyalty.


    Meihua, meanwhile, kept her attention fixed on Lysander as he spoke. While his information was accurate regarding the true nature of the test, she knew better than to trust his motives. A man like him wouldn''t share such secrets simply out of the goodness of his heart.


    "That''s why I want to form a party," Lysander declared, spreading his arms in an inviting gesture. "Anyone who''s interested in hunting monsters with me, please step forward."


    "I knew it!" Meihua thought, suppressing a bitter smile. Classic bait - he was gathering cannon fodder to draw out monsters while minimizing his own risk. Yet his audience, ignorant of his true nature, practically stumbled over themselves in their rush to join. They charged headlong into the tiger''s den, while Lysander watched with barely concealed satisfaction.


    After several minutes, a substantial group had gathered around him. Lysander surveyed his new followers with calculating eyes. "It''s a little less than what I had in mind," he mused internally, "but it doesn''t matter. This much is enough." His gaze swept across those who hadn''t joined, dismissing most until it landed on Meihua. Recognition flickered in his eyes - the commoner who had dared to overshadow him by awakening a Mythical-ranked talent. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hmph! But a talent is still just a talent. I don''t believe you won''t give in to power," he thought, approaching Meihua and Adelaide. With deliberate discourtesy, he ignored Adelaide completely, focusing solely on Meihua. "Why don''t you join us too?" he offered with a practiced smile.


    "I''m not interested," Meihua responded flatly.


    Lysander''s composure cracked momentarily, unused to such direct rejection from someone of lower status. But he wasn''t one to easily back down, "Oh, and why not?" he pressed, his tone carrying an edge of warning.


    "I-" Meihua began, but Adelaide smoothly interjected, raising a hand to halt her response. Her diplomatic smile carried years of merchant training as she addressed Lysander.


    "The young master of the Blackvale family really lives up to his reputation," she began, masking her irritation at his earlier slight. "But I''ll have to disappoint him today, as my lord is interested in meeting our Meihua here."


    "Oh? And who''s your lord?" Lysander''s sarcasm dripped like poison.


    Adelaide''s smile never wavered. "Let''s see if you dare to keep that smirk when you hear it," she thought before responding aloud. "My lord has been sick since birth, so you might not have heard his name. He is Ambrose Rothschild." She paused deliberately before adding, "I hope you don''t make things difficult for him, as my lord is really impatient sometimes."


    The name hit Lysander like a physical blow. He visibly struggled to maintain his composure before forcing a smile. "Ah- since your lord is really interested in her, I''ll back away," he managed, offering a slight bow before beating a hasty retreat.


    "Tch, to make your cowardly escape sound so noble. As expected of Lysander," Meihua thought, watching his departing figure. She turned to Adelaide, her feelings complicated by gratitude for the intervention mixed with apprehension about her new situation. The memory of her earlier encounter with Hualing, where she''d nearly lost her life, was still fresh in her mind.


    With a resigned sigh, she addressed Adelaide, "Let''s go this way, sister." Together, they separated from the group, leaving behind Lysander''s gathering of unwitting sacrifices. As they walked away, Meihua couldn''t shake the feeling that she''d escaped one danger only to walk straight into another, potentially more lethal one.

 Chapter 24: Let’s Make a Party

    Chapter 24: Let''s Make a PartyConsciousness returned gradually to Ambrose as his eyes fluttered open. He carefully slid away the jacket that had been covering him, taking in his surroundings with growing curiosity. The structure around him seemed to straddle the line between shelter and ruin - he could see the rising sun clearly through gaps in its construction.


    A commotion drew his attention, and he turned to witness what felt like an oddly familiar scene playing out before him. Marcus lay pinned beneath Hualing, desperately trying to keep her knife from his throat while pleading his case.


    "I''m telling the truth! I found him lying there. I didn''t attack him!" Marcus''s voice carried genuine desperation.


    "Hmm, why does this dialogue sound so familiar?" Ambrose mused as he pushed himself into a sitting position, recalling his own recent encounter with Meihua.


    His maid wasn''t having any of Marcus''s explanations. "Still not admitting it?" she pressed, her voice taking on an almost gleeful edge. "I saw your blood there. You tried to attack the young master but he bit you, causing you to bleed. You then knocked him out and carried him." She delivered this entirely fictional account with absolute conviction.


    "What''s with that crazy story? Are you an author or something?" Marcus questioned, bewilderment momentarily overriding his fear.


    Marcus tried again, attempting reason: "I found him sleeping and I carried him here. As for the blood, it was self-inflicted."


    "So you found the young master sleeping and decided to stab yourself?" Hualing''s tone dripped with sarcasm. "Do you really think I''m an idiot?"


    "Well, when you put it that way..." Marcus began.


    "Stop making excuses and just die already!" Hualing cut him off cheerfully. "It only hurts the first time!"


    "Yeah, because the first time will also be the last," Marcus retorted, though it did nothing to improve his situation.


    As his strength began to fade, Marcus''s thoughts turned introspective. Had Hualing always been so unreasonable? She wasn''t giving him a chance at all. In his past life, their first meeting had revealed a shy, almost docile girl. What could have happened to transform her so dramatically? His eyes darted to his sword, tantalizingly close yet impossibly far given his current predicament. Although he had been formidable in his past life, he had yet to awaken in this one. Meanwhile, Hualing''s trained strength was evident in every movement - he could feel it in the inexorable pressure forcing the knife closer to his throat.


    "Dammit! Will you really kill me in both lifetimes?" he thought desperately. "Just what did I ever do to you?"


    As the blade pressed closer, Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable. Instead, a soft yet commanding voice cut through the tension: "Stop!"


    At Ambrose''s command, Hualing''s entire demeanor transformed instantly. The bloodthirsty assailant vanished, replaced by a concerned servant who rushed to her master''s side. "Young master?" she cooed, already lifting his clothes to check for injuries. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Her hands moved toward his pants, apparently intent on a full inspection.


    "Stop it!" Ambrose pushed her away before she could proceed further. "You''re the one hurting me," he added with an exasperated sigh.


    "I''m sorry, young master," Hualing bowed deeply, the picture of contrition.


    Ambrose regarded her with growing concern. This wasn''t the same girl he''d first met - she was an entirely new species and seemed to be becoming more unstable by the day. If he couldn''t find a way to keep her in check, even he might not be safe. With another weary sigh, he extended his palm toward her bowing form. She stared at it in confusion before understanding dawned, and she reluctantly surrendered her knife.


    As he added this latest weapon to his growing collection, Ambrose couldn''t help but wonder if she owned some sort of knife factory. The thought of how many more weapons she might be concealing sent a chill down his spine. Yet he didn''t know where she was getting them from, he had already inspected her body multiple times and still couldn''t find anything.


    ...


    Meihua and Adelaide walked together through the open terrain, their footsteps marking time as they conversed casually. After nearly an hour of following Meihua''s seemingly aimless direction, Adelaide''s patience finally wore thin.


    "Where are we going?" she asked directly, studying her companion''s face.


    Meihua paused, carefully considering her response. It''s not like she could tell her that she had read the novel and was using this knowledge to find the main character to seek protection from him.


    "I don''t know, but my talent tells me to go this way," she offered instead. It was a convenient excuse - she had a unique intelligent type talent so it wouldn''t matter if he blames everything on it. It''s not like someone can confirm. Besides, asking people about their abilities was considered disrespectful. As expected, Adelaide accepted the explanation without further inquiry. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Minutes later, voices drifted through the air, drawing them forward with quickened steps. They emerged into a clearing to find a crudely constructed shelter that looked more like an ambitious pile of sticks than actual housing. Near the entrance, Hualing crouched by a small fire, coughing as smoke billowed in her face from her overzealous attempts to fan the flames.


    But it was the scene beyond that stopped both newcomers in their tracks. Marcus sat on the ground, his face flushed crimson as Ambrose knelt beside him, meticulously bandaging his arm. From their angle, the tableau appeared startlingly intimate.


    Meihua unconsciously adjusted her glasses, her inner fujoshi awakening at the sight. "Holy yaoi! What is gracing my eyes right now?" she whispered, perhaps a bit too loudly.


    A/N - What am I doing with my life


    The group finally noticed their arrival, all heads turning toward them. Ambrose finished his medical ministrations and rose gracefully, approaching the newcomers with his usual measured steps. Adelaide''s face colored as she watched her master''s approach.


    "Master, Marcus is a man," she ventured hesitantly.


    Ambrose''s blank look of incomprehension only made matters worse as he responded with a simple, "And?"


    "What?" Adelaide''s eyes dropped to the ground, her mind spinning with implications she dared not voice.


    "Anyway, I''m glad that you came," Ambrose continued, seemingly oblivious to the misunderstanding. "I actually have something I want to say." He turned and gestured for her to follow, then paused to add, "You too, Meihua."


    They gathered around as Hualing quickly arranged the roasted hare meat she''d been preparing. Though food sat before them, all eyes remained fixed on Ambrose, awaiting his words. He surveyed the gathered faces - Adelaide''s still flushed with embarrassment, Meihua''s bright with curiosity, Marcus''s carefully neutral, and Hualing''s practically vibrating with anticipation.


    "Actually," he began, his voice carrying quiet authority, "I want the five of us to form a party."

 Chapter 25: The Mad Star

    Chapter 25: The Mad StarThe massive fireball screamed through the air, its heat distorting the very atmosphere as it plummeted toward Lysander''s group. The attack''s sheer magnitude painted the forest clearing in hellish orange light, transforming afternoon into apocalyptic twilight.


    "Get into battle formation!" Lysander''s command cut through the chaos, but discipline crumbled in the face of primal terror. Most of his followers scattered like leaves in a storm, their screams of panic drowning out his subsequent orders. Only a handful maintained enough composure to follow his lead as he raised his staff, channeling mana into a desperate defense.


    [Arcane Barrier](D) - Creates a protective dome of magical energy. Duration and strength scale with user''s mana reserves...


    The barrier materialized just in time, its translucent surface rippling as it barely contained the fireball''s impact. Those who had fled weren''t so fortunate. Their bodies hit the ground as they desperately hammered at their extraction bracelets, the same devices that had failed them an hour ago when they''d watched their fellow students die. The horrible realization that had struck then repeated now ¨C they were trapped, truly and completely.


    A student outside the barrier''s protection stared upward with tear-filled eyes as another fireball descended. His final thoughts weren''t of home or family, but of bitter betrayal. "Why didn''t the academy protect us?" The question died with him as flames reduced flesh and bone to ash. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside the barrier, Lysander''s situation grew increasingly dire. Sweat poured down his face, not just from the strain of maintaining the shield, but from the rapidly rising temperature within. The monster had adopted a terrifyingly intelligent strategy ¨C instead of trying to break through the barrier directly, it was superheating the air inside. They were effectively trapped in an oversized oven.


    "Dammit!" Lysander''s mind raced as he assessed their situation.


    The reality of their situation was devastating. He''d awakened ahead of time and still only achieved D-rank power. The creature attacking them was clearly C-rank minimum, and worse, it showed signs of possessing a talent ¨C a rare and terrifying occurrence among monsters. While most monsters could naturally manipulate mana without talents, those few that did develop them gained frightening intelligence along with their power.


    With his mana reserves dropping and options dwindling, Lysander made a calculated decision. His eyes swept across the huddled survivors, quickly identifying the three strongest-looking students. "You, you, and you," he pointed them out decisively. "When I release the barrier, fall back with me. The rest of you..." he paused, masking his true intentions, "...buy me time to cast my ultimate spell."


    Hope flickered in their eyes ¨C even those designated as sacrifices clung to the belief that they just needed to hold out long enough for their noble leader''s trump card. On his count of three, the barrier dropped. The chosen three retreated with Lysander while the others formed up with their shields, prepared to defend with their lives.


    One of the shield-bearers chanced a glance backward, expecting to see Lysander gathering power for their salvation. Instead, he witnessed their supposed savior sprinting away at full speed, already a hundred meters distant and showing no signs of slowing. The student turned back to face the approaching monster, bitter understanding replacing his final hopes.


    "I''m dead fr," he thought, raising his shield to meet the inevitable.


    ...


    Chaos reigned in the Crono Academy''s dungeon watch center. Dozens of crystal screens filled the air, each displaying different areas within the testing grounds where their students fought desperately for survival. Instructors and dungeon experts rushed between monitoring stations, their faces drawn with mounting horror as they watched the situation deteriorate.


    One instructor had worn a path in the floor with his pacing, his fingers raking through his hair until his scalp was raw. His eyes remained fixed on a screen showing another student falling, their body dissolving into motes of light that should have signaled a successful extraction. Instead, the lights simply faded into nothingness. Those who died in a dungeon would be absorbed into the dungeon, not even having a burial place.


    "Haven''t you sent the ace team in yet?" he demanded, whirling to face his assistant. The woman''s professional composure cracked slightly as she gestured at one of the screens, switching its view to the dungeon''s exterior. Ten figures stood ready in full combat gear, their equipment marking them as elite dungeon divers. Yet they could only wait, powerless, before the shimming barrier that denied them entry.


    "We already have, but they can''t get in," she reported, her voice tight with frustration. "At this point, we''ll have to wait until the dungeon breaks naturally in a month."


    The instructor''s face contorted with rage. "Do you think they can afford to wait a month?" he shouted, jabbing his finger at a screen where students huddled behind a failing barrier, terror evident in their faces. His assistant''s silence spoke volumes.


    The chamber''s heavy doors burst open as the principal stormed in, her usual dignified bearing replaced by naked anxiety. "No, no, no," she muttered, her eyes darting between screens. "What''s the situation?"


    "It''s not looking good," the instructor reported grimly.


    Principal Cassandra Blackvale drew a steadying breath before her expression hardened. "Don''t let anyone know about this!" she commanded, then added with particular emphasis, "Especially ''you know who.''"


    The room''s atmosphere grew heavier as understanding dawned on every face. They all knew exactly who she meant, and the consequences if that person discovered what was happening to their precious son.


    ...


    Hundreds of miles away, at the kingdom''s eastern border, Friedrich Rothschild stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield. The afternoon air carried the acrid scent of spilled blood and expended mana as kingdom forces clashed with imperial troops. These skirmishes had grown increasingly frequent as tensions mounted between the two powers.


    A subordinate approached, bowing deeply before delivering his report. Friedrich''s expression remained unchanged as he processed the news. While they hadn''t suffered a decisive defeat, victory had also eluded them. He released a weary sigh, only to freeze as the entire battlefield began to tremble.


    Both he and his subordinate turned toward Victoria''s command post. A furious cry split the air: "Cassandra Blackvale!" The raw fury in Victoria''s voice made hardened soldiers flinch. "I grant you the honor of looking after my son and this is how you betray me? If I don''t kill you today, then I''m not Victoria Rothschild!"


    Friedrich''s eyes widened in alarm as spatial magic began gathering around Victoria''s quarters. "Oh no!" He launched himself forward, crossing miles in the blink of an eye, but even his fast speed proved insufficient. By the time he reached her position, only the fading remnants of a long-distance teleportation portal remained.


    "Dammit!" Friedrich''s curse carried genuine fear. "Everyone retreat! I''m leaving the front lines for a while!" His voice carried across the battlefield as he issued rapid commands. "Contact the royal family and request backup!"


    As he departed in pursuit of his wife, those left behind exchanged knowing looks. They understood why their commander sought reinforcements not for the border conflict, but for wherever he was headed. It was common knowledge throughout the kingdom that the most feared individual wasn''t Friedrich "The Golden-Eyed Tyrant" Rothschild, but rather his wife ¨C Victoria "The Mad Star" Lancaster.


    The soldiers whispered quiet prayers, not for their own safety against the empire''s forces, but for the poor souls who would soon face Victoria''s wrath. The last time someone like this had happened, the kingdom''s fifteen great families had turned into the kingdom''s ten great families. This time, would it be any different?


    A/N - This character is too OP, the fact that she can see what''s happening in the dungeon over such a distance means that she can always observe Ambrose at any time and know when he is in danger. This will mean that there is no real risk to him so I''m thinking of sealing her or something. (I cant nerf her since her strength is needed for the later parts of the story) Also, sorry I couldn''t come up with cooler sounding tittles.

 Chapter 26: Forming a Party

    Chapter 26: Forming a Party"Actually, I want the five of us to form a party."


    Ambrose''s words hung in the air like a spell, transforming the dining table''s atmosphere. The crackling of the yet to be put out fire provided the only sound as each person processed this unexpected proposal in their own way.


    Adelaide and Hualing remained seemingly unaffected ¨C as Ambrose''s subordinates, their allegiance was already secured. Whether he called it a party or a private army made little difference to their dedication. Still, Adelaide couldn''t help but steal glances at the others, her mind already calculating the implications of this expanded circle.


    Meihua adjusted her glasses, her mind racing. She''d come seeking Marcus for protection, following the plot points she remembered from the novel. Instead, she found herself being invited into a party by the Rothschild heir himself. She had wanted to avoid Ambrose earlier due to Hualing''s volatile nature, yet here she was, contemplating joining his inner circle. Though she had to acknowledge that it was indeed a good deal, even the kingdom''s most prestigious guilds couldn''t match the resources the Rothschild family could provide.


    Her eyes darted to Marcus, curious about his reaction. She knew that Marcus had trouble trusting people after being kicked out of the party and even more after Hualing''s betrayal. And now he was being asked to join a party with the person who had killed him in his previous life. She wondered what choice he would make.


    Marcus sat in rigid silence, his expression carefully neutral as he processed the offer. He couldn''t deny the advantages ¨C the Rothschild family''s resources could accelerate his growth far beyond what he''d achieved in his previous life. Such backing could help him prevent past tragedies and right former wrongs. Yet hesitation gripped him.


    His eyes flickered to Hualing, memories of her betrayal in his previous timeline sending a chill down his spine. The knife-wielding maid who had nearly ended his life mere minutes ago bore little resemblance to the shy girl he''d first met in that other time. Now she just sat by Ambrose''s side, humming cheerfully as if she hadn''t just threatened to kill him.


    Another concern gnawed at him ¨C Meihua''s Mythical-grade talent far outshone his mere Top-grade ability so he wondered why he was invited as well. He''d learned the hard way how quickly "friends" could turn once they deemed you inferior. The memory of Lysander''s party surfaced unbidden ¨C the camaraderie that had soured into contempt, the backs that had turned once his talent proved insufficient.


    Marcus studied Ambrose''s face, searching for signs of similar disdain. The heir''s expression remained open, almost innocent ¨C much like Lysander''s had been at first. The thought made Marcus pause. Was he projecting past trauma onto this situation? Or was his instinct warning him of genuine danger?


    "So, what do you think?" Ambrose''s gentle inquiry broke through Marcus''s spiraling thoughts.


    "I¡ª" Marcus began, then paused. A cold calculation settled over him. Well, it didnt matter now, refusing might offend Ambrose. Making an enemy off the Rothschild heir ¨C potentially much more dangerous than Lysander had ever been.


    Besides, he''d evolved his talent once; he didn''t believe he couldn''t do it a second time. If he could match or surpass Meihua''s Mythical grade, his position would be secure. As for Hualing... proximity might provide answers to questions that had haunted him across two lifetimes.


    Rising smoothly, Marcus offered a formal bow. "I''m willing to join the young master''s party."


    Meihua followed suit almost immediately, not wanting to be left behind. "I''m also willing," she declared, bowing deeply.


    Ambrose''s smile carried genuine satisfaction. He''d wondered how to draw these two main characters to his side, yet they''d willingly delivered themselves to his doorstep. "It seems my luck is quite good," he thought. Now he could mooch off the protagonist''s aura while maintaining a safe distance from the most dangerous events. His internal monologue took on an almost playful tone: "I guess you could say that I''ll be: Surviving the magic academy with just intelligence stats."


    A/N - Okay I''ll stop


    ...


    Meihua shifted uncomfortably on the ground as she studied Ambrose''s serene expression. Despite the pleasant meal they''d just shared, a nagging sense of unease persisted in her mind. "Why do I feel like I''ve fallen into a trap?" she wondered, watching their newly appointed party leader with careful attention.


    The choice of Ambrose as leader wasn''t weird as many might think - while he might lack physical prowess, it was common practice in the kingdom for intelligence-types to take command positions. Their strategic insight often proved more valuable than raw strength.


    The atmosphere shifted as Ambrose reached into his spatial ring with deliberate grace. Three objects materialized in his hand, their crystalline surfaces catching the afternoon light. With careful precision, he placed them on the makeshift table before them. Meihua, Marcus, and Adelaide''s eyes widened in unison as recognition dawned - these weren''t ordinary crystals, but high-grade mana crystals, each worth a small fortune.


    Ambrose distributed them with a knowing smile, watching their reactions. His Mind''s Eye ability had already revealed the crystals'' true value when he''d examined his spatial ring''s contents after his talent evolution, but even he was somewhat surprised by the intensity of their responses.


    Meihua accepted hers with trembling fingers, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. Despite knowing Ambrose''s wealthy background, such casual generosity exceeded her expectations. Her earlier suspicions began to feel foolish - how could this be a trap when it was clearly a windfall? The mana crystal in her hands represented exactly what she''d been hoping to obtain through far more dangerous means.


    Adelaide''s reception was more complex. Through their telepathic link, Ambrose had already made it clear the crystal wasn''t meant for selling. Her frustration was evident in the slight downturn of her lips - as someone familiar with the [Accounting] talent''s progression path, she saw little value in awakening abilities she could already approximate through normal means. To her merchant''s mind, the crystal''s monetary value far exceeded its practical worth.


    Marcus perhaps showed the most genuine joy, though his enthusiasm was tempered by frequent nervous glances toward Hualing. The mana crystal represented an unexpected blessing - he''d been preparing himself for a deadly confrontation with the boss monster at the hidden cave to obtain one of lesser quality. Only Hualing''s constant killing intent marred his elation.


    "Hualing, are you jealous?" Ambrose asked, noting his bodyguard''s intense stare.


    "Young master... I-" she began, but Ambrose cut her off with a smile.


    "Actually, I didn''t give you one because you have yet to awaken your talent," he explained smoothly. "How about this - if you manage to awaken your talent before the test ends, I''ll give you three."


    The offer was calculated. Ambrose had no desire to further empower his already formidable and unstable bodyguard. The crystals given to the others served as a precautionary measure, ensuring he''d have some protection if Hualing ever turned against him. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He didn''t believe that she''d do that but it was always better to be prepared just in case. As for the promise - he considered it safely impossible. He knew that Hualing had the potential to awaken a talent, but awakening in such a small time period was simply impossible. If people could awaken talents just simply because they wanted to, wouldn''t everyone have a talent?


    Yet despite his logical assessment, a tendril of anxiety curled in his stomach. Something about Hualing''s responding smile made him wonder if he''d just made a grave miscalculation.

 Chapter 27: Party Stats

    Chapter 27: Party StatsAmbrose stood beneath a sprawling oak tree, its dense canopy providing welcome relief from the afternoon sun. In his hands, he held detailed sketches for their new shelter - carefully planned designs that would replace Marcus''s well-intentioned but haphazard construction. He couldn''t help but notice Marcus''s embarrassed glances toward his original creation when Ambrose had announced their plans to build something more substantial.


    The sound of axes striking wood echoed through the clearing as his newly formed party worked diligently. Using his [Thought Transmission] ability, Ambrose provided precise instructions to each member, coordinating their efforts with supernatural efficiency. Yet he couldn''t help but sigh as he glanced at Hualing, who remained stubbornly planted by his side despite his suggestions that she help the others. With her strength, they could work twice as fast.


    "I cannot leave the young master''s side," she had insisted with unwavering determination. "What if someone tries to take advantage of you while I''m away?" The memory of her words drew another weary sigh from his lips. "What does that even mean?"


    Taking advantage of this idle moment, Ambrose activated his [Mind''s Eye] ability to assess his new companions'' capabilities since they had now awakened with the help of the mana crystals. He started with Marcus, curious about the regressor''s true strength:


    [Name: Marcus Turner]


    [Level: D]


    [Talent: Sword Intent (Top Level)]


    [Health: 2500/2500]


    [Mana: 200/200]


    [Strength: 23]


    [Stamina: 25]


    [Agility: 30]


    [Sword Intent](Intrinsic) - A profound talent that grants the user deep spiritual connection with the way of the sword. This talent allows for natural understanding of sword techniques and grants the ability to project sword-like cutting power even without a blade. (Subskills: [Blade Resonance](S), [Sword Force](A), [Edge Perception](B), [Bladeless Cut](B), [Sword Heart](C))


    Ambrose''s mind immediately began processing the information. Marcus''s base stats exceeded those of a one-in-ten genius, if only marginally. What particularly caught his attention was Marcus''s specialization - an agility-type fighter rather than the strength-type he''d expected. Though considering the technical precision required for swordsmanship, it made perfect sense.


    The most striking disparity lay in their health values - Marcus''s 2500 dwarfed Ambrose''s mere 100. Yet given Marcus''s stamina was over two hundred times greater, such a difference seemed logical. The D-rank designation intrigued him, though the specific requirements for rank advancement remained unclear.


    Turning his attention to Meihua, he observed:


    [Name: Liu Meihua]


    [Level: D]


    [Talent: Calculation (Mythical)]


    [Health: 400/400]


    [Mana: 200/200]


    [Strength: 3]


    [Stamina: 4]


    [Agility: 4]


    [Gambler''s Dominion](Intrinsic) - A natural talent that provides extraordinary analytical capabilities with a unique ability to bind participants to probability-based wagers. This talent excels in both calculation and creating binding conditions in games of chance. (Subskills: [Fate Wager](S), [Statistical Analysis](A), [Combat Calculator](B), [Risk Assessment](B), [Variable Processing](C))


    Her physical stats proved surprisingly low, all falling below average. Yet she still maintained a D-rank. But it was understandable, if physical stats were the only determining factor, then wouldn''t all intelligence types remain F ranks their whole life. "Her intelligence stats must be exceptional," he reasoned, though he hadn''t invested enough mental strength into [Mind''s Eye] to view those deeper attributes.


    Adelaide''s assessment followed:


    [Name: Adelaide Brightwell]


    [Level: D] sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Talent: Accounting (Top Level)]


    [Health: 1000/1000]


    [Mana: 200/200]


    [Strength: 5]


    [Stamina: 10]


    [Agility: 6]


    [Battle Accountant](Intrinsic) - A support-focused talent that provides exceptional organizational and management capabilities during combat situations. This talent enables precise tracking and efficient resource management for both individuals and groups. (Subskills: [Resource Manager](A), [Status Monitor](A), [Combat Logistics](B), [Efficiency Analysis](B), [Supply Line](C))


    Her slightly above-average physical stats and D-rank designation further confirmed his suspicions about other determining factors for rank assignment. He guessed she also had quite high intelligence stats. "It seems that 200 mana is the base for D ranks" he observed, noticing how the three of them had 200 mana.


    Finally, he turned to Hualing, who met his gaze with an innocent smile:


    [Name: Sun Hualing]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Blood - Unawakened (???)]


    [Health: 4000/4000]


    [Mana: 0/0]


    [Strength: 42]


    [Stamina: 40]


    [Agility: 40]


    [Blood Forge](F) - Create weapons using blood.


    The information nearly caused him to stumble. Not only was she a C-rank, but she possessed a talent! But he was able to calm himself down as he realized that it was an unawakened talent. But he also wondered why the grade couldn''t be seen, could it be of a higher grade than Mythical? Nah, there''s no way...


    Seeing as she lacked mana, it seemed that she really had no talent. If she had a talent, with such high stats, it would be hard not to awaken. But what surprised him even more was that she actually had a skill before she had even awakened a talent. But seeing the skill''s description finally explained where she was getting all those knives from earlier.


    Ambrose suppressed another sigh as he realized the futility of his weapon confiscation efforts. With her ability to forge new ones from blood, his growing collection of confiscated knives was purely symbolic.


    ...


    The evening sun cast long shadows across the river as Ambrose and Hualing perched on a smooth rock by the water''s edge. With Marcus having provided lunch through his hunting prowess, and Adelaide and Meihua busy improving their shelter, Ambrose had suggested fishing for dinner. It seemed only fair that they contribute something to the party''s sustenance.


    Ambrose cast his line again, his enhanced perception allowing him to spot the subtle movements of fish beneath the surface. Another quick pull, and another fish joined the growing collection in the basket beside them. Both the fishing rods and basket had come from his space ring, which he was discovering contained an impressive array of items he had yet to discover. He couldn''t help but smile at his mother''s apparent foresight in preparing the ring''s contents - or perhaps her paranoia, though he certainly wasn''t complaining about the convenience.


    Stealing a glance at Hualing, he noticed her mounting frustration. Despite matching his technique perfectly, she hadn''t managed to catch a single fish. The water near her line seemed eerily empty, as if the fish were actively avoiding her presence. The observation triggered an uncomfortable thought in Ambrose''s mind, reminding him of her blood-related abilities. There was something inherently dark about that talent, though he quickly pushed the unsettling thought aside.


    "Well, you don''t have to feel so down," he offered, trying to sound encouraging. "It''s not that your skills are bad, but fishing is largely based on luck." Even as he spoke, he knew something felt off about the situation. The statistical improbability of her complete failure suggested something more than mere misfortune.


    Noting how Hualing''s eyes had taken on that dangerous gleam that usually preceded violence, Ambrose decided to end their fishing expedition before she decided to dive in and catch the fish with her bare hands.


    "I think we''ve caught enough," he announced, standing carefully. "It wouldn''t be good for the ecosystem if we caught any more." When he attempted to lift the basket, his arms trembled uselessly against its weight. Hualing''s laughter rang out as she effortlessly hoisted the heavy load, her earlier frustration apparently forgotten.


    Ambrose smiled, relieved to see her return to her usual cheerful self. As they made their way back to camp, he found himself grateful for these moments of normalcy, brief though they might be...

 Chapter 28: Night Attack [PART 1]

    Chapter 28: Night Attack [PART 1]The night air hung still and heavy around their shelter, broken only by the gentle crackling of dying embers from their evening fire. Ambrose sat outside, his back against the rough wooden wall, with Hualing maintaining her vigilant position beside him. When she saw that he wasn''t sleeping, she had decided to volunteer to be the first one on night watch, that way, she could both protect her master and complete her party obligations.


    As for Ambrose, he''d been asleep (unconscious) for almost a day so he didn''t feel sleepy at all. This was also because of his many mind enhancing skills. The recent upgrades to skills like [Thought Acceleration] and his new [Parallel Processing] had fundamentally altered his need for sleep, leaving his mind in a constant state of crystal clarity.


    [Parallel Processing](S) - A supernatural ability that allows the mind to operate multiple independent thought streams simultaneously. The user can completely isolate and compartmentalize different mental processes, enabling them to pursue multiple complex analyses or tasks at once with no loss of efficiency. Each thought process operates with full access to the user''s mental capabilities, allowing for true multitasking rather than rapid task switching. The number of parallel processes scales with mental strength, though each active process consumes a portion of the user''s mental strength pool.


    As he was appreciating his new abilities, a whisper of movement caught his attention, barely perceptible even in the quiet night. He glanced at Hualing, noting her unchanged expression ¨C whatever had triggered his senses remained beyond her detection. It wasn''t surprising, given his supernatural perceptual abilities:


    [Heightened Perception](A) - An advanced enhancement of the user''s sensory capabilities that approaches supernatural levels. Visual acuity is increased by 300%, allowing for crystal clear vision up to 500 meters and the ability to track hypersonic movements. Hearing sensitivity is improved by 250%, enabling the user to detect whispers from up to 150 meters away and perfectly distinguish hundreds of overlapping sounds. The sense of smell has evolved to track specific individuals across vast distances and detect subtle emotional changes through pheromones. This heightened state can be maintained indefinitely without strain.


    The darkness posed no barrier to his enhanced vision, the night world appearing almost as clear as day. Yet the dense forest surrounding their shelter created natural blindspots, walls of vegetation that even his extraordinary sight couldn''t penetrate. But his hearing compensated beautifully, picking up the subtle sounds of approach ¨C not a single entity, but multiple ones, drawing steadily closer.


    Without hesitation, Ambrose activated [Thought Transmission], his mental warning reaching his companions still settling down for sleep inside the shelter. Their response was immediate and coordinated, emerging into the night air with impressive speed. But even their swift reaction proved barely adequate ¨C by the time they gathered outside, the creatures had already encircled them.


    With the trees no longer obscuring his view, Ambrose could finally see their adversaries clearly. He activated [Mind''s Eye], analyzing the threat:


    [Name: Dire Wolf]


    [Level: F]


    [Type: Warrior]


    [Weakness: Area attacks, Fire]


    [Description: A larger, more aggressive variant of normal wolves, hunting in coordinated packs.]


    Although the situation looked dire, especially for a non-combat such as himself, his [Rational Mind] skill allowed him to remain calm and collected as he analyzed the situation.


    He counted roughly twenty wolves, with their alpha standing apart ¨C an E-rank threat leading its F-rank pack. Despite their party technically outranking these creatures, Ambrose immediately identified several concerning factors. Three of their members ¨C himself included ¨C were intelligence-types, essentially leaving only Marcus and Hualing as combat-capable defenders. The darkness, while no hindrance to his perception, would hamper his companions'' fighting ability while giving these naturally nocturnal hunters a significant advantage. Their keen sense of smell would make any attempt at stealth or misdirection futile.


    Moreover, Ambrose harbored concerns about his party''s combat experience. While Marcus''s previous life likely equipped him well for such encounters, the others remained unknown quantities. In combat situations, panic could prove contagious, potentially compromising their entire group''s effectiveness. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Yet as his companions smoothly assumed defensive positions, awaiting his command, Ambrose realized he might have underestimated their capabilities. Their formation was textbook-perfect, displaying a level of preparation that suggested his fears of inexperience might have been unfounded.


    ...


    The wolves advanced with predatory grace, their growls and snarls filling the night air. Marcus stood protectively before Meihua and Adelaide, his stance indicating battle readiness despite the challenging visibility. Similarly, Hualing maintained her position as Ambrose''s shield, her body coiled with lethal tension.


    Studying his companions'' subtle movements, Ambrose noticed their slight hesitation when tracking the wolves'' positions ¨C a natural consequence of human vision limitations in darkness. While victory seemed likely given their individual capabilities, the risk of injury from unexpected attacks loomed large. On only their second day in the dungeon, any significant wounds could severely compromise their long-term survival chances.


    As he contemplated their options, Ambrose recalled one of his most versatile abilities:


    [Thought Transmission](A) - An evolved form of mental communication that approaches true telepathy. The user can transmit their gathered information telepathically to multiple willing recipients within a 500-meter radius, complete with full sensory details from their observations. They gain near-perfect sensitivity to mental transmissions in their vicinity, able to detect, intercept, and even redirect telepathic communications within 300 meters. This sensitivity extends to reading surface thoughts and emotional states of those around them.


    He had barely scratched the surface of this skill''s potential, using it primarily for simple communication. But now, a more sophisticated application presented itself. He activated the ability, preparing to share his enhanced vision with his companions.


    A/N - Not necessarily share the ability but rather the sensory information.


    However, he quickly realized that simply broadcasting his perspective wouldn''t suffice ¨C the difference in viewing angles could disorient them rather than help.


    To solve this problem, he called upon his newest skill:


    [Spatial Awareness](S) - Grants acute awareness of all matter and energy within the user''s sphere of influence, with range determined by mental strength (typically extending from 30 to 50 meters). Within this space, the user can sense movement, position, and spatial disturbances. The ability provides heightened sensitivity to spatial anomalies like teleportation or dimensional distortions, though prolonged use can cause mental fatigue.


    A/N - Its some sort of omniscience within a certain range.


    Knowing the full power of this ability would rapidly deplete his mental energy, Ambrose activated it selectively, focusing solely on gathering visual information within their immediate area. Then, employing his extraordinary mental capabilities, he began the complex task of mapping and translating this information into individualized perspectives for each party member.


    The computational demands were staggering. For each companion, he had to constantly track their position, eye movement, and orientation, adjusting the visual feed in real-time to match their natural perspective. The processing requirements for maintaining zero-latency transmission while accounting for four different viewpoints simultaneously would have overwhelmed most minds. Yet for Ambrose, with his evolved mental abilities, it felt challenging but manageable ¨C like solving multiple complex equations simultaneously.


    A/N - Umm, English please: its just using his omnicience and turning it into diferent POVs and giving this info to the party members.


    He had effectively transformed himself into the group''s neural hub, processing and distributing vital visual information tailored to each individual''s perspective. While the mental strain was considerable, his enhanced capabilities could handle it. As his companions'' movements became more assured, responding to their suddenly improved night vision, Ambrose allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.


    ...


    [Thought Acceleration](S) - Elevates mental processing speed to supernatural levels, accelerating thought by a factor of 1000. This extreme acceleration enables instant analysis of complex situations, perfect tactical assessment, and instantaneous problem-solving capabilities. The user experiences time in extreme slow-motion during accelerated thinking, allowing for exhaustive analysis in split-second situations.


    [Time Perception](A) - Enhances the brain''s ability to process information in real-time to an advanced degree. Users gain enhanced ability to track dozens of events simultaneously, along with exceptional situational awareness and greatly superior reaction time to observed events. This skill also grants improved prediction of immediate outcomes through enhanced temporal processing.


    ...


    A/N - For anyone who''s wondering about the skill descriptions, checkout the auxiliary Chapter. I can''t always give the full descriptions of skills as soon as they appear since it''ll take up much word count, but I''ll always give a description of a skill when its used for the first time. But sometimes I might forget to give the description or assume i''ve given it earlier when i in fact havent so its better to check the auxiliary when you feel like you''re missing something. I''ll also include the descriptions of the side character''s skills at a later time. For those interested in the stats of the main character at a certain period, I might create a wiki where I''ll list all that.


    Anyway, I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read my work, even though its not the best, I''m still improving and I''ll try to make it more and more entertaining.


    Thanks

 Chapter 29: Night Attack [PART 2]

    Chapter 29: Night Attack [PART 2]A/N - Bonus Chapter on the house.


    The party members tensed as unexpected streams of visual information flooded their minds. The initial shock quickly gave way to understanding as they realized that it was Ambrose''s doing, sharing his enhanced perception with them. While impressive, the sheer volume and clarity of information proved overwhelming. Unlike Ambrose, whose numerous mind-enhancing skills allowed him to process multiple information streams effortlessly, they possessed only marginally above-average mental capabilities.


    The visual feed was almost too much to handle ¨C Ambrose''s supernatural perception captured everything in crystal clarity, from individual dewdrops on grass blades to the minute twitches of distant wolf ears. The party members quickly adapted by closing their physical eyes, allowing themselves to focus solely on the shared visual information without conflicting sensory input.


    "This is incredible," Marcus thought, marveling at his newfound night vision. The world appeared in stunning clarity, every detail of the approaching wolves visible as if illuminated by daylight. Without hesitation, he launched himself forward, sword singing from its sheath.


    His blade danced through the night air with deadly grace, each movement precise and purposeful. The wolves, despite their coordinated attacks, couldn''t match his technical superiority. Marcus found himself reflecting on how differently this encounter might have played out without his recent awakening. Even with his combat experience from his previous life, an unawakened warrior facing these numbers in darkness would have risked serious injury.


    As he effortlessly bisected another wolf, Marcus''s attention briefly shifted to Ambrose. The noble heir defied his initial expectations. When ambrose first invited him to join the party, he thought it was just a bratty noble child playing house.


    But contrary to what he thought, Ambrose demonstrated practical knowledge of architecture, helping them build a new shelter, he also actively participated in party duties despite his physical limitations, and even insisted on contributing through fishing. And now he was expending considerable mental energy to share his enhanced perception, giving them a crucial tactical advantage.


    "Someone worthy of protection indeed," Marcus thought, a small smile playing across his lips as his blade claimed another wolf.


    On the other side of the clearing, Hualing''s combat style presented a stark contrast to Marcus''s elegant swordplay. When a wolf targeted Ambrose, likely sensing his physical weakness, Hualing intercepted it with animalistic ferocity. Her hands plunged into the creature''s flesh, literally tearing its head from its body. Blood sprayed across her face, and to everyone''s horror, she licked it off with evident pleasure.


    Her savage display gave even the wolves pause, their predatory instincts warning them away from this greater monster. Only their alpha''s commanding howl drove them forward ¨C straight to their doom. Hualing tore through them with her bare hands, leaving mangled corpses in her wake.


    When only the alpha remained, Hualing''s blood-soaked grin widened. The wolf''s blood she''d spilled didn''t fall but rose, flowing upward to coalesce around her fingers, forming a crimson blade. Both she and Marcus charged the alpha simultaneously, as if competing for the kill. Their blades flashed in perfect synchronization.


    Marcus smoothly sheathed his sword without looking back, while Hualing''s blood-blade dissolved, raining red droplets onto the forest floor. A moment later, the alpha wolf''s body fell apart, split by two perfect cuts.


    Throughout the carnage, Ambrose maintained his concentration, carefully managing the mental strain of providing enhanced vision to his companions. His expression remained carefully neutral as he observed both Marcus''s disciplined efficiency and Hualing''s disturbing brutality, filing away these insights about his newfound allies.


    ...


    Day three of Dungeon Survival,


    Through the dense forest, Lysander and his three remaining allies stumbled forward, their exhausted bodies barely responding to their desperate commands to move. Lysander''s condition appeared particularly dire ¨C his mana completely depleted from countless defensive spells cast during their flight. The bitter taste of sacrifice lingered in his thoughts; he''d abandoned the majority of his group to buy time, yet here they were, still running for their lives. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The monster pursuing them had demonstrated a cruel intelligence that exceeded anything Lysander had encountered before. For nearly twenty-four hours, it had maintained this psychological torture ¨C drawing close enough to inspire terror, allowing them to waste energy and resources defending themselves, then retreating just far enough to give false hope. This calculated strategy served not just to exhaust them physically, but to break them mentally as well.


    With trembling fingers, Lysander retrieved a healing pill from his pouch. The medicine''s effects spread through his system immediately, restoring a portion of his depleted mana and stamina. He noticed the desperate looks from his companions ¨C their eyes fixed on his pouch, silently pleading. Though these pills represented a significant portion of his personal wealth, the tactical reality was undeniable. Without these "meat shields," as he thought of them, he''d be defenseless when the monster finally tired of its game.


    "Here," he growled, distributing three more pills with obvious reluctance. The brief surge of recovery gave them enough strength to press forward.


    Just as despair threatened to overwhelm them, sounds of human activity reached their ears. Hope drove them to sprint the final distance, bursting through the treeline into a surreal scene that stopped them in their tracks.


    A proper structure stood in the clearing ¨C not some hastily assembled shelter, but an actual house. Before it, five people lounged as if enjoying a peaceful vacation rather than surviving a deadly trial. A noble youth sat reading in a comfortable chair while his maid tended to his shoulders. Two young women engaged in casual conversation, their laughter carrying across the clearing. A swordsman stood apart, practicing forms with focused serenity.


    "What the hell?" Lysander''s bewildered exclamation captured their collective disbelief. The contrast between their desperate flight and this group''s casual relaxation felt like a slap in the face. While they''d spent the past day running for their lives, these people had apparently decided to build a house and take it easy.


    Before Lysander could fully process this bizarre situation, a chilling voice cut through the air behind them. "Kekeke, I knew I could find something good just by chasing you! Kekeke!" The monster''s gleeful cackling sent icy terror down their spines as they realized its true purpose ¨C they''d been herded here like sheep to slaughter, leading their tormentor straight to fresh prey.

 Chapter 30: I Want to Fight Solo

    Chapter 30: I Want to Fight SoloThe scene unfolded within the confines of what appeared to be a sealed stone cave, its walls rough and jagged, illuminated by the flickering glow of flames that danced wildly across the space. Marcus''s body hurtled through the air, not by his own will, but as a result of a brutal force that sent him crashing into the opposite wall.


    The impact was bone-jarring, his back slamming against the unyielding stone with a sickening thud. The sword he had been clutching was ripped from his grasp, skidding across the ground and coming to rest several feet away. Pain shot through his body as he crumpled to the floor, his vision blurring for a moment before he forced himself to focus. With a grimace, he spat out a mouthful of blood, the metallic taste lingering on his tongue as he struggled to push himself up, his arms trembling under the strain.


    Around him, the cave was a scene of devastation. The bodies of his fellow students lay scattered across the ground, some unconscious, others unmoving¡ªperhaps worse. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and burning, the flames that licked at the walls and floor casting an oppressive heat that made it hard to breathe.


    Sweat dripped down Marcus''s face, mingling with the blood that trickled from a cut on his forehead. His eyes darted upward, and there it was¡ªthe source of their torment. A monstrous figure loomed in the dim light, its form a grotesque fusion of serpent and human. Its lower body coiled like a snake, scales glinting in the firelight, while its upper torso was disturbingly humanoid, muscular and menacing. It was the C rank monster [Flame Serpent]


    But this was no ordinary C-rank [Flame Serpent], if it was, even with some casualties, with how huge their group was, it wouldn''t be difficult for them to defeat it. But this particular Flame Serpent was different. It was an awakened monster, its intelligence far beyond that of its kind, and its strength teetering on the edge of B-rank. Its eyes glowed with a malevolent light, fixed on Marcus as if savoring his struggle.


    "Am I really going to die here?" The thought flashed through Marcus''s mind, unbidden but persistent. Just a month ago, he had been Park Jin-woo, an ordinary man living an unremarkable life in Seoul. His death had been as mundane as his existence¡ªuntil he was reborn in this world as Marcus Turner. Here, he was no longer ordinary. Some would say that he was at least a level above ordinary. Literally! His Top Level talent was actually one level above ordinary talent.


    He possessed a top-level sword intent talent, a gift that set him leagues above the average. His potential had earned him an invitation to the kingdom''s most prestigious magic academy, a place where the elite honed their skills. But none of that mattered now. The monster before him didn''t care about his talent or his potential. In the face of its overwhelming power, he was just another student, another victim. The disparity between them was stark, and Marcus felt the weight of it pressing down on him.


    His gaze fell to the bracelet on his wrist, a device provided by the academy for emergencies. He didn''t bother pressing it; he already knew it was useless. Others had tried, and their attempts had ended in failure, their bodies now lying broken around him. Despair threatened to take hold, but then a voice cut through the chaos. "Marcus! Marcus! Gosh will you snap out of it already! Do you want all of us to die here?" It was Lysander, his tone urgent but laced with a calculated concern.


    Marcus turned his head, spotting Lysander standing a short distance away, staff in hand, poised as if ready to cast a spell. Actually, he had already begun casting the spell but had to stop when Marcus was flung away as there was now an opening for the monster to attack him through.


    Three others stood protectively around him, their expressions tense. Lysander''s eyes flicked toward Marcus, his concern seeming genuine, but Marcus couldn''t see the thoughts racing behind them. "Dammit! If you don''t become my meat shield so I can cast my ultimate spell, how are we supposed to survive?" Lysander''s mind was a whirlwind of strategy and self-preservation, but Marcus remained oblivious to his true intentions.


    Gritting his teeth, Marcus pushed himself to his feet, using the wall for support as he staggered toward his sword. Each step was agony, his body protesting every movement, but he refused to give up. When he finally reached the blade, he gripped it with such force that his knuckles turned white, the edges of the hilt digging into his palm.


    With a sudden, decisive motion, he swung the sword toward his wrist, severing the academy-issued bracelet. It clattered to the ground, a symbol of reliance he no longer wanted. "I don''t want to rely on anyone anymore! I want to have my own power! I want to decide my own fate from now on!" His voice rang out, fierce and resolute, echoing through the cave.


    As if in response to his declaration, the wall behind him crumbled, revealing a sight that made his breath catch. A mana crystal, radiant and pulsing with energy, emerged from the debris, its brilliance casting an ethereal glow over the scene. In that moment, Marcus¡ªno, Park Jin-woo, the most ordinary man from Seoul¡ªfelt something shift within him. This was the turning point, the moment he began to shed his past and embrace the destiny of Marcus Turner, the hero.


    A/N - end of flashback


    Now, as Marcus stood watching Lysander and his group being pursued by the [Flame Serpent], the memories of that day flooded back. He wasn''t surprised to see Lysander here; it was common for students to cross paths in these trials. But the presence of the [Flame Serpent] outside the cave was unexpected. Did they aggro it out of the cave? Or was there something more at play?


    Marcus pushed the questions aside, his focus narrowing to the task at hand. A cold determination settled over him as he tightened his grip on his sword. A light blue aura began to emanate from the blade, swirling and coalescing around it like a living force. He turned to Ambrose, who had already positioned the group in a battle formation, ready for whatever came next. Marcus''s voice was steady, filled with conviction as he spoke. "I want to fight solo."


    ...


    Ambrose''s sharp eyes swept over the newcomers who had stumbled onto their territory, even managing to bring a not so friendly guest with them. His mind worked quickly to assess the situation. The group of four was led by a young man who exuded an air of authority, though his disheveled appearance and the panic in his eyes betrayed the gravity of their predicament.


    Behind him trailed three others, Ambrose quickly scanned through them with his [Mind''s Eye]¡ªSarah Winters, Thomas Fletcher, and Edwin Mills. By their names alone, he could tell that they were commoners, and a quick scan with his Mind''s Eye confirmed that none of them had awakened their talents. They were out of their depth, and their presence here, especially with the monstrous [Flame Serpent] hot on their heels, was nothing short of a disaster.


    Ambrose''s gaze lingered on the leader, Lysander Blackvale. Ambrose remembered him from the talent test before. He knew almost everyone with a decent talent, not that there were many of them anyways. His Mind''s Eye immediately pulled up the young man''s stats, and Ambrose''s brows furrowed slightly as he processed the information:


    [Name: Lysander Blackvale]


    [Level: D]


    [Talent: Arcane Dominion (Legendary)]


    [Health: 1000/1000]


    [Mana: 200/200]


    [Strength: 5]


    [Stamina: 10]


    [Agility: 6]


    [Arcane Dominion (Intrinsic) - A rare talent that grants the user extraordinary control over raw magical energy, allowing for efficient manipulation of mana and heightened understanding of magical principles. The user possesses an innate connection to arcane forces that grows stronger with use. (Subskills: [Mana Dominance](S), [Arcane Weaving](A), [Spell Intuition](B), [Magical Resonance](B), [Energy Sense](C), [Arcane Barrier](D))]


    Lysander''s stats were comparable to Adelaide''s, slightly higher than Meihua''s. But from his talent and skill, Ambrose could tell that he wasn''t an intelligence type. He looked to be more of a support type specialising in magic.


    Ambrose''s thoughts briefly wandered to whether support types like Lysander also scaled off intelligence stats, much like intelligence types, but he quickly dismissed the question. It wasn''t relevant to the immediate crisis. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. Using Thought Transmission, he alerted his team to prepare for battle. "Everyone, battle formation. Now," he commanded, his voice calm but firm. The members of his group moved swiftly, falling into their assigned positions with practiced ease¡ªall except one.


    Marcus stood apart, his expression dark and stormy. His jaw was clenched, his fists trembling at his sides, and his eyes burned with a mixture of rage and something deeper¡ªsomething Ambrose couldn''t quite place. It was as if the sight of the [Flame Serpent] had triggered a flood of memories, none of them pleasant. Ambrose''s gaze lingered on Marcus for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing his features. If the regressor has some not so good memories with this monster, it could compromise our entire strategy, he thought. Marcus''s emotional state was a wildcard, and in a battle like this, even the smallest misstep could be fatal. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Shifting his attention to the monster, Ambrose activated Mind''s Eye once more, scanning the [Flame Serpent] for weaknesses:


    [Name: Flame Serpent]


    [Level: C]


    [Type: Mage]


    [Weakness: Water, Close combat]


    [Description: A serpentine monster wreathed in flames that can cast powerful fire magic. Shows unusual intelligence in combat, preferring to attack from range with concentrated fireballs and area-of-effect spells.]


    The creature was a C-rank, the same as Hualing. While Hualing''s close-combat prowess might give her an edge, Ambrose knew that taking on the [Flame Serpent] alone would be risky, especially considering it had intelligence while Hualing had yet to awaken mana. The monster''s intelligence and ranged capabilities made it a formidable opponent, and its mastery of fire magic meant it had the advantage in the forest they were currently in.


    Before Ambrose could formulate a plan, Marcus''s voice cut through the tension. "Solo!" he declared, his tone fierce and unyielding. "I want to fight it solo!"


    A/N - I''m trying out a different writing style, tell me if you like it or dislike it (or if you don''t notice the difference). I wanted to explore Adelaide''s character in this volume because she looked like the most interesting character. But I feel like we should first give the OG mc a chance. The next Chapter will be about Marcus, and after that will be Victoria, I''ll then end the volume with a MASSIVE cliffhanger before activating premium lol. Does anyone have suggestions for the name of this volume?


    Also, today will probably be just one Chapter just like yesterday since I''m readjusting the pacing and preparing for the next volume.

 Chapter 31: Solo Fight

    Chapter 31: Solo FightMeihua watched intently as Marcus strode purposefully toward the monstrous Flame Serpent, his sword emanating pulses of blue mana that cast ethereal shadows across the forest floor. As he passed Lysander''s group, he moved past them as if they were invisible, his focus entirely on the creature before him.


    Although Lysander was displeased by this commoner''s display, he was too tired to say anything so he just made way for him, and so did his group. Well, except for one person. The girl beside Lysander ¨C Sarah ¨C reached out desperately, her fingers catching the fabric of his shirt.


    "Marcus!" Her voice carried a mix of concern and familiarity that made Ambrose''s eyebrows rise. He wondered if she was a love interest. From the way she looked at him, she seemed to be a childhood friend type. But Marcus merely pulled away without a glance, leaving Sarah''s hand suspended in empty air, her expression frozen in shock. Ambrose was also shocked by this, he wondered if he was actually wrong this time.


    But Meihua''s thoughts were different from Ambrose, Meihua felt her understanding of events continuing to unravel. Her knowledge from the original story painted a different picture ¨C one where Marcus, haunted by his encounter with this monster but aware of his limitations, had joined forces with Lysander''s group to overcome it. But now he wanted to challenge it solo?


    "Then again," she mused, "he''s already awakened far earlier than in the story. Maybe that''s where his confidence comes from?" But she still didn''t understand why he did this. Marcus wasn''t one to show off so why was he trying to fight it solo?. Besides, in the first timeline he had already fought the monster after awakening but still couldn''t defeat it without help from Lysander. So then why was he doing something so useless?


    And Meihua was also worried about another thing. With each deviation from the plot she knew, her carefully accumulated knowledge felt increasingly unreliable, like trying to navigate with a map that kept redrawing itself.


    The battle began without a preamble. The Flame Serpent''s humanoid torso twisted as it gathered magical energy, launching a barrage of fireballs that turned the air itself into a corridor of heat. Marcus activated his skill:


    [Blade Resonance](S) - The pinnacle expression of sword intent that creates a spiritual resonance between user and blade. When wielding any sword, the weapon becomes a perfect extension of the user''s will, dramatically enhancing cutting power and precision. The resonance allows the user to instinctively understand the blade''s condition, optimal striking angles, and even grants the ability to project their intent through the sword, creating invisible extensions of the blade''s reach. Extended use causes significant mental fatigue as maintaining the resonance requires constant focus.


    His sword moved with impossible precision, each swing perfectly bisecting the incoming fireballs. The monster''s attacks intensified, creating a wall of flame to keep Marcus at bay. But he activated another skill:


    [Sword Force](A) - Enables the manifestation of sword intent as pure force. The user can project cutting power in the form of invisible blade-like energy, allowing them to strike at range or enhance their blade''s cutting potential. The strength and range of these projections scale with the user''s mental power and sword skill. While not as powerful as physical blade strikes, these force projections can catch opponents off guard and provide tactical advantages.


    Invisible blades of force shot forth from his swings, slicing through the flame barrier. The Flame Serpent''s eyes narrowed with something approaching concern as Marcus advanced steadily, his movements guided by yet another skill:


    [Edge Perception](B) - A passive ability that heightens the user''s awareness of all blade-like edges within their vicinity. The user can sense the position, sharpness, and movement of any bladed weapon within 30 meters. This awareness extends to potential cutting surfaces in the environment and grants intuitive understanding of optimal cutting angles. This ability becomes particularly potent when combined with Blade Resonance.


    As Marcus closed the distance, the monster''s strategy shifted. Its massive tail whipped forward with devastating speed, catching Marcus''s sword at the perfect angle to send it spinning away into the underbrush. But rather than retreat, Marcus pressed forward, empty-handed. Activating another skill:


    [Bladeless Cut](B) - Allows the user to transform their empty hands into blade-like weapons by concentrating their sword intent. While not creating a physical blade, this technique enables cutting attacks with bare hands that can match the sharpness of common swords. The effectiveness scales with the user''s mental strength and understanding of sword techniques, though prolonged use causes strain on the user''s arms. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His bare hands flickered with concentrated sword intent as he engaged the monster in close combat. But despite his skill, the raw physical difference became apparent. The Flame Serpent''s superior strength sent him flying repeatedly, but each time he rose again, pressing forward with grim determination.


    Finally, a particularly vicious blow sent Marcus crashing to the ground. He managed to rise to one knee, watching as the monster gathered its power for a massive attack. The fireball that formed above its head dwarfed all previous ones, its heat so intense it began scorching the ground before even being launched.


    As Marcus stared up at the approaching inferno, a bitter thought crossed his mind: "Still not enough?"


    ...


    Adelaide and Hualing maintained their protective positions beside Ambrose, watching the intense battle unfold. Adelaide''s mind whirred with calculations as she observed Marcus''s extraordinary display of skill. "Is this why the young master is interested in him?" she wondered, stealing a glance at her master''s composed features. The raw power Marcus demonstrated seemed to justify Ambrose''s decision to recruit him even though his talent was only Top Level.


    Meanwhile, Lysander stood frozen, his aristocratic features twisted with disbelief. Everything he thought he knew about the natural order ¨C nobles above commoners, the strong above the weak ¨C crumbled as he watched Marcus fight. A commoner, displaying such power? It defied his worldview entirely.


    Beside him, Sarah''s eyes never left Marcus''s form, though confusion clouded her expression. "Marcus?" she whispered, barely audible. The fierce warrior before her bore little resemblance to the person she had known. His movements, his determination, even the way he carried himself ¨C everything had changed.


    When Marcus finally fell to one knee, Meihua''s anxiety peaked. This wasn''t the Marcus she knew from the story ¨C the one who never gave up, who always found a way forward. His sword lay tantalizingly close, yet he made no move to retrieve it. The Flame Serpent''s massive fireball continued growing overhead, its heat distorting the very air around it. She wondered if he had given up.


    Even Ambrose''s usual composure showed cracks of concern. His enhanced mind raced through possibilities ¨C was this the moment for the protagonist''s power-up? Had something gone wrong with the story''s progression? One glance at Meihua''s worried expression confirmed his fears ¨C this deviation wasn''t part of the original plot.


    "Dammit! I''ll just wait a little, if he doesn''t get it together, I''ll have to intervene," he thought, turning to Hualing. "Get ready," he commanded quietly. His bodyguard nodded, her body tensing in preparation.


    With mounting desperation, Meihua activated her ability:


    [Statistical Analysis](A) - Enhances the user''s ability to process and analyze large sets of data in real-time. The user can instantly calculate probabilities, identify patterns, and predict likely outcomes based on available information. This ability proves particularly useful in combat situations by analyzing enemy attack patterns or in gambling scenarios by tracking card distributions. The processing speed and accuracy scale with mental strength.


    As the monster''s spell reached completion, she pushed herself further, activating another skill:


    [Risk Assessment](B) - Provides the ability to instantly calculate risk factors in any given situation. The user can process multiple variables simultaneously to determine the probability of success or failure for potential actions. This includes analyzing environmental factors, participant capabilities, and various possible outcomes. The analysis becomes more accurate with more available information.


    The calculations painted a grim picture ¨C the fireball''s trajectory and power would prove definitively lethal. "Dodge to the right!" she shouted, her voice cracking with urgency. She didnt care if he wanted to fight solo, but he couldn''t die here. After all, all the information she had was useful only if the Main Character was alive. But Marcus remained motionless, as if deaf to her warnings.


    "What are you doing? Don''t you want to live anymore?" she screamed, panic overwhelming her usual composure. But Marcus knelt there, unmoved, as if waiting for something. The massive fireball descended, its light turning the clearing into a hellish inferno.


    The impact, when it came, shook the very ground beneath their feet.


    A/N - rip lol

 Chapter 32: The Spirit King

    Chapter 32: The Spirit KingIn the ethereal expanse of the spirit realm, the Spirit King lounged upon his crystalline throne, his massive frame dwarfing the ornate seat. Standing nearly seven feet tall, his muscular form pulsed with barely contained energy, each ripple sending waves of power through the mystic air. His sapphire hair and eyes matched the otherworldly atmosphere, while his exceptionally pointed ears marked him as nobility even among spirit-kind.


    Before him floated a crystal sphere, its surface capturing the unfolding drama in the mortal world. Within its depths, Marcus knelt motionless as a massive fireball descended toward him. The Spirit King released a weary sigh, his ancient eyes reflecting centuries of similar scenes. "You still haven''t changed," he murmured, his voice carrying both fondness and disappointment.


    A smaller spirit materialized beside the sphere, her form no larger than a human palm, although she was considered MASSIVE among her kind, in front of the spirit king who was as big as a human, she looked quite small. If Marcus was there, he would recognize her as the same shy spirit who had led him to Ambrose''s unconscious form.


    Though her demeanor now carried more gravity than shyness. She studied the scene with visible skepticism, her delicate features pinched with concern.


    "Is this the person you chose?" she questioned, unable to mask her doubt.


    The Spirit King''s laughter rolled through the chamber like distant thunder. "You misunderstood something," he responded, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I didn''t choose him."


    Before the smaller spirit could voice her confusion, the entire spirit realm began to tremble. The violent shaking reached even the Spirit King''s throne, causing the massive structure to quiver despite its otherworldly construction. The smaller spirit''s wings fluttered anxiously as she tried to maintain her position.


    "What''s happening?" she demanded, her voice barely audible above the supernatural quaking. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Spirit King rose from his throne, his expression shifting from amusement to concern as he focused his attention on a specific direction. His next words carried a weight that silenced even the realm''s tremors: "It''s from the human world."


    Recognition dawned on his features, followed immediately by alarm. "Oh no! Victoria..." The name had barely left his lips before his form vanished, leaving only dissipating energy in his wake.


    The smaller spirit hovered in the suddenly empty chamber, stunned by the unprecedented display. Never in her existence had she witnessed the Spirit King so disturbed, let alone rushing personally to the human world. Though spirits could traverse between realms, for the king himself to depart so hastily...


    She began to contemplate the implications for their realm''s security ¨C perhaps the Demon King might exploit this absence ¨C but caught herself mid-thought. Such concerns were beyond her station now. Instead, she returned her attention to the crystal sphere, where time had barely advanced. The scene remained frozen in that crucial moment, Marcus still kneeling before the descending inferno, his fate hanging in the balance.


    ...


    As the massive fireball descended toward Marcus with lethal intent, Ambrose observed the scene through his supernaturally enhanced perception. Thanks to his [Thought Acceleration] and [Time Perception] abilities, the deadly projectile appeared to move in slow motion, giving him ample time to analyze the situation. His earlier hope for a protagonist''s power-up moment crumbled as Marcus remained stubbornly motionless.


    "What power-up? He''s clearly lost it," Ambrose muttered through gritted teeth. Without further hesitation, he activated one of his newly acquired abilities:


    [Blink](A) - Enables short-range teleportation through spatial manipulation. Each use requires significant mental strength, limiting frequent usage. The user can teleport themselves or small objects they''re touching up to 20 meters, with accuracy and distance scaling with mental power. Multiple teleports in succession cause exponentially increasing mental strain, making this ability better suited for tactical rather than continuous use.


    Though the skill''s stated range was twenty meters, Ambrose calculated that with sufficient mental strength, he could push beyond that limitation. The hundred-meter gap between himself and Marcus presented a significant challenge, but one he was prepared to overcome. His gambit proved successful as he materialized directly above Marcus, his calculated "fall" bringing them into immediate physical contact.


    This precise positioning was no accident ¨C while Ambrose''s enhanced mind could process events at incredible speeds, his weak body couldn''t match that perception. Simply appearing near Marcus wouldn''t have allowed him to make contact before the fireball struck. By materializing above him, gravity ensured instant contact, allowing Ambrose to immediately trigger another teleport, whisking them both to safety just as the fireball obliterated their previous position.


    The moment they materialized at a safe distance, Ambrose sent a mental signal to Hualing. She responded instantly, launching herself at the Flame Serpent with predatory grace. The monster stood admiring its handiwork, actually scratching its head in confusion as it wondered if it had completely vaporized its target. Its self-congratulatory moment was cut brutally short as Hualing seized its tail, slamming it into the ground with bone-crushing force. Blood erupted from the creature''s mouth upon impact, but Hualing showed no mercy. She immediately yanked it up again, using its own body as a weapon to demolish several trees in succession.


    Despite the monster''s near B-rank status, it found itself helpless against Hualing''s raw physical supremacy. She leaped atop its humanoid torso, unleashing a savage barrage of strikes. When the creature attempted to retaliate, transforming its mouth into a serpentine maw to breathe fire, Hualing simply clamped its jaws shut with brutal efficiency. Even as the monster''s powerful limbs landed heavy blows against her sides, she maintained her grip, seemingly reveling in the exchange of violence.


    A/N - Although it''s almost a B rank, that''s in terms of magic. Since it''s a mage type, its physical stats aren''t that high. It''s still high enough to beat someone like Marcus who''s an agility type. But not enough to beat hualing who is the same rank and also a berserker type...


    Blood trickled from her mouth, yet her expression grew only more feral. "More! More! More!" she screamed, her voice carrying an unsettling edge of ecstasy as she absorbed punishment that would have felled lesser beings. The Flame Serpent''s confusion at this incomprehensible opponent proved to be its final thought ¨C the magical energy it had been building up, trapped within its throat by Hualing''s iron grip, detonated spectacularly. The resulting explosion painted Hualing in a gruesome coat of monster blood, yet her maniacal smile never wavered.


    When her blood-soaked visage turned toward the observers, Lysander''s group didn''t wait for introductions. They fled immediately, requiring no encouragement beyond that terrifying gaze. They had been running from that monster for almost a day now yet it was killed that easily? Who''s the real monster here?


    However, rather than pursuing them, Hualing suddenly collapsed to the ground. Adelaide rushed to attend to her fallen form, while Meihua split her attention between checking on Marcus and Ambrose.


    A/N - Changed up some stuff. The next one or two Chapters will be the end of this Academy Entrance volume. Then we can actually Survive the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats

 Chapter 33: Who is Victoria Rothschild?

    Chapter 33: Who is Victoria Rothschild?The Crono Magic Academy lay in ruins, its once-proud structures reduced to rubble and debris. The air hung thick with the acrid scent of expended mana, so dense it made breathing difficult. Students and staff scrambled for safety in a chaotic exodus, their panicked voices carrying across the devastated grounds. The cause of this apocalyptic scene floated high above the academy ¨C Victoria Lancaster, the Mad Star, lived up to her infamous title.


    In the sky, eleven figures hovered in a tense standoff. Victoria''s appearance was frightening ¨C blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, her hair whipped around her head as if defying gravity, and her eyes blazed with supernatural blue light. Within those glowing orbs, anyone who dared look closely could see actual stars rotating in their depths, a mesmerizing and terrifying sight.


    Surrounding her in a loose circle were the heads of the kingdom''s ten great families, each bearing evidence of the fierce battle. Their usually immaculate appearances were disheveled, their clothing torn and dirty. Only Friedrich Rothschild maintained some semblance of composure, though his attention constantly shifted between his wife and the blue portal below. He was also worried about his son but unlike his rage-consumed spouse, who seemed ready to bury the entire kingdom with her son who wasn''t even dead yet, Friedrich remained somewhat rational.


    Thaddeus Blackvale, his noble bearing marred by obvious battle damage, broke the tense silence. "Dammit Friedrich! Are you going easy on her just because she''s your wife?" His accusation went unanswered, adding frustration to his already battered dignity. The other family heads glanced briefly at this exchange but kept their primary focus on Victoria, recognizing her as the true threat.


    Suddenly, Victoria closed her eyes, her body becoming unnaturally still. This abrupt shift from her previous fury to absolute calm sent waves of anxiety through the assembled nobles. Victoria Lancaster, known for her constant stream of curses and explosive temper, had never gone without flaring up for such a long time, especially when suffering such "injustice"¨C this stillness felt ominous, like the deceptive calm before a devastating storm.


    When her eyes finally reopened, they had transformed. Gone was the supernatural glow, replaced by a natural but impossibly deep blue.


    A/N - It means that her eyes aren''t glowing because of her space abilities anymore but have changed color naturally.


    More shocking was her hair, which changed color before their eyes, shifting to match her eyes in a matter of seconds. Her ears elongated to delicate points, completing a transformation that left her barely recognizable. The expression she now wore chilled even the battle-hardened nobles to their cores ¨C gone was any trace of human emotion, replaced by something ancient and otherworldly.


    Friedrich stared at his wife in growing horror. This wasn''t the Victoria he knew; it was as if some primordial being had taken possession of her form. Her gaze, completely devoid of emotion, swept over the assembled nobles as if they were already corpses.


    Sensing an overwhelming increase in her power, the family heads launched a desperate, coordinated attack. But before they could reach her, Victoria spoke a simple command: "Get out." Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but the power that pulsed from her eyes sent all ten nobles crashing to the ground below. Even Friedrich, spared in previous exchanges, found himself treated no differently than the others.


    Without sparing her defeated opponents another glance, Victoria floated toward the portal. Near its swirling surface, the academy''s ace team huddled behind Principal Cassandra, who attempted to shield them from the conflict. Victoria materialized before them instantaneously, her inhuman gaze meeting the principal''s terrified eyes.


    Cassandra, who had weathered Victoria''s legendary temper countless times before, found this new version infinitely more terrifying. She preferred the cursing and unreasonable Victoria a million times more than whatever this was. The woman before her seemed to operate on a completely different plane of existence, one where human life held no more significance than specks of dust.


    Victoria walked past them as if they were invisible, causing Cassandra to collapse, her body trembling uncontrollably. The ace team fared no better, their elite training meaningless in the face of such otherworldly presence. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Approaching the portal, Victoria raised one delicate hand to its surface. "Should I just break it?" she mused aloud, her soft voice carrying clearly to all present. The suggestion sent shockwaves of horror through the witnesses. Portals were fundamental forces of nature, mysterious phenomena that had challenged human understanding since the beginning of recorded history. Yet here was Victoria, contemplating their destruction as casually as one might discuss breaking a window. The terrifying part was that no one doubted she could do exactly that.


    ...


    "Should I just break it?" Victoria''s contemplative words hung in the air like a deadly promise. After a moment''s reflection, she answered her own question: "No! I can''t control my powers well so it might collapse in on itself." She paced around the portal''s perimeter, her movements precise and deliberate.


    "If I were to tear space from here," she demonstrated with a cutting motion of her hand, "as long as I''m careful enough, I should be able to send people into the portal." Her gaze drifted to the paralyzed ace team nearby. "But the chances of failure are high. Theoretically speaking, it should be possible. But I don''t want to risk my son''s life over just a theory."


    As she continued her measured pacing, her thoughts seemed to crystallize. "If only there was someone who could..." Suddenly, her eyes widened with realization. "Father!" The word burst from her lips, followed quickly by concern. "But what should I do to make him come here, my son doesn''t have much time left."


    Her casual mention of "Father" sent tremors of fear through the assembled nobles. They all knew the story ¨C how the legendary war goddess Celestia Lancaster had fought the demon general (strongest being beneath the demon king) for seven continuous days. Despite emerging victorious and earning the title of True Hero, her injuries had been too severe. Her desperate journey to the spirit world in search of healing had led to an encounter with the Spirit King himself, resulting in Victoria''s birth.


    Though Celestia had been cured, the price had been steep. The birth had stripped her of all powers, and her health had deteriorated rapidly afterward. She''d chosen to spend her final days in the House of Lancaster, where she ultimately passed away. Common knowledge held that Victoria blamed the Spirit King for her mother''s death, making her current willingness to seek his aid all the more shocking.


    Friedrich watched his wife with mounting concern. Few knew the true depth of Victoria''s hatred for the Spirit King ¨C to see her willing to request his help spoke volumes about her desperation to save their son. The weight of his failure to protect both of them pressed heavily on his conscience. But the question was still there, how would she make the Spirit King leave his position where he maintains world balance, just to come here to save his grandchild.


    The question of how Victoria planned to summon the Spirit King was answered with terrifying clarity. The world itself began to tremble, not metaphorically but literally. Looking skyward, people witnessed an impossible sight ¨C a massive celestial body materializing in the heavens, its bulk gradually eclipsing the sun.


    The atmospheric pressure began to fluctuate wildly as the foreign planet''s gravitational field interacted with Earth''s own. Clouds swirled in unnatural patterns, creating vast cyclones visible from the ground. The oceans responded to the new gravitational force, tides rising to unprecedented heights. The very air seemed to grow thicker as the atmospheric compression increased.


    The approaching planet''s massive shadow plunged the world into an artificial twilight. Its surface features became visible to the naked eye ¨C vast continents and oceanic expanses many times larger than Earth''s own. The sight was both magnificent and terrifying, like watching the end of the world unfold in real-time.


    Victoria observed her handiwork with eerie calm. "The Spirit King mediates between the human world and the demon world. I don''t believe he''ll wait until I destroy this entire planet for him to show up." Her words revealed the full scope of her actions ¨C she was literally pulling another planet toward Earth, willing to risk the extinction of humanity to force her father''s hand.


    "What a crazy woman!" The thought echoed through countless minds, but none dared voice it aloud. All they could do was pray that the Spirit King would indeed appear, for if he didn''t, Victoria Lancaster would become not just the Mad Star, but the harbinger of humanity''s extinction.


    A/N - I keep alternating between Victoria''s last name in some scenes but I dont think its confusing. Anyway, I feel like I rushed the story of the War Goddess in this Chapter so I might edit it later. Or maybe I can release a Chapter solely dedicated to her since she''s the only True Hero we currently know of.


    All awakened are referred to as either heroes or villains depending on how they use their powers. But a true hero is someone who lived up to the name of hero and contributed greatly to the human race.

 Chapter 34: We are Hiring Female Leads

    Chapter 34: We are Hiring Female LeadsIn the heart of the Avaloria Kingdom, King Alexander stood at his palace balcony, his royal robes billowing in the increasingly chaotic winds. His weathered face turned skyward, watching the impossible sight of another world descending upon them. Despite his years of ruling through countless crises, nothing had prepared him for this moment. Behind him, his advisors huddled in terrified silence, their usual political machinations forgotten in the face of potential apocalypse.


    Throughout the kingdom''s streets, common folk emerged from their homes, work forgotten as they gazed upward. Mothers clutched their children, merchants abandoned their stalls, and even the ever-present city guards stood transfixed. The massive celestial body filled most of the visible sky, its alien continents and oceans clearly visible through the atmospheric distortion.


    Across the continent in the Xia Empire, Emperor Chen Ming''s hands gripped his dragon throne with white-knuckled intensity. The massive planet''s shadow had already plunged his lands into premature darkness, and reports flooded in of coastal cities evacuating as unprecedented tidal waves threatened their shores. His people, traditionally stoic in the face of adversity, found their composure cracking as nature itself seemed to turn against them.


    Within the Holy Theocracy''s grand cathedral, Cardinal Helena led her congregation in desperate prayer. Hundreds knelt before the towering statue of Aurora, the goddess of light, their unified voices rising in supplication. The stained glass windows cast eerie shadows as the foreign world''s presence distorted the natural light.


    The Beast Kingdom''s various tribes set aside their eternal rivalries, their enhanced senses overwhelming them with signals of impending disaster. Even the proudest warrior-chiefs stood humbled before this display of power that transcended mortal understanding.


    Deep in the demon realm, upon his throne of twisted obsidian, the Demon King threw back his head in thunderous laughter. "These foolish humans," he roared, his voice echoing through his dark domain. "To think they would destroy themselves before I had the chance. If not for that meddlesome Spirit King''s interference..." His amusement carried an edge of genuine regret at missing his opportunity to personally oversee humanity''s downfall.


    A/N - Just thought I''d use this chance to expand what we know about the world. I''m thinking of drawing a map, I''ll post it on discord or the fandom when its finally created.


    Victoria maintained her position, her transformed features betraying no emotion as she guided the massive planet ever closer. Suddenly, her serene expression shifted slightly. "He''s here!" she announced, surprising everyone with the speed of response ¨C barely a minute had passed since she began her cosmic display. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously cut through reality itself: "What do you want?" Though the Spirit King remained unseen, his authority resonated through every syllable.


    A/N - Are you aura farming rn bro?


    "Open it!" Victoria commanded simply, her tone carrying neither plea nor desperation.


    "I can open it, but you''ll have to pay a price," the Spirit King responded, his voice shifting to something more personal as he continued, "you''ll return with me to fulfil your duties as the spirit princess."


    Friedrich''s face contorted with horror. "No!" he shouted, lunging forward only to find himself completely immobilized. He quickly assessed the situation ¨C he was trapped in a spatial barrier. "Wife?" he called out questioningly, but Victoria''s subtle head shake crushed his last hopes. He had failed twice now ¨C unable to protect either his son or his wife.


    "Get on with it," Victoria stated flatly.


    "Alright!" The Spirit King''s acknowledgment manifested as golden light surrounding the blue portal. "It''s open now! Remember your promise," he declared, finally materializing and extending his hand toward Victoria.


    In a flash of movement, Victoria appeared beside Principal Cassandra, whispering something in her ear before reappearing at the Spirit King''s side. Both figures vanished instantly, leaving only disturbed air in their wake.


    The spatial barrier constraining Friedrich dissolved, and he immediately appeared where Victoria had stood moments before. His fists clenched in helpless rage as he turned to the still-prone ace team. "What are you still waiting for? Go and save my son!" he commanded. The elite squad scrambled to their feet and rushed through the portal, carrying the last hopes of the Rothschild heir''s survival with them.


    Friedrich watched them disappear, acutely aware that his own tremendous power now served as a limitation. The dungeon''s natural restrictions prevented individuals of his caliber from entering ¨C any attempt would cause the entire structure to collapse. All he could do now was wait and trust in his wife''s sacrifice.


    A/N - Just realized that these previous Chapters made the top powers of the world seem weak, I should do some Chapters to show their powers in action without the monsters. Also, a moment of silence for mommy Victoria. It had to be done.


    ...


    Hualing staggered forward, leaning heavily on Adelaide''s shoulder. Her physical condition was concerning enough, but the mental battle raging inside her head proved even more exhausting. Minghua''s voice thundered through their shared consciousness: "What were you thinking? What''s the point of killing the enemy if you die in the process? Can''t you at least dodge? If you want to die so badly just go to sleep and give the body to me!"


    "Yeah yeah, I get it. Will you shut up now?" Hualing muttered wearily, but Minghua was far from finished. "No, I won''t! Do you think..." The internal tirade continued unabated.


    Meanwhile, Meihua supported Ambrose as they watched Adelaide and Hualing approach. Her attention shifted to Marcus, who had descended into what appeared to be a complete psychological breakdown. He sat mumbling to himself, seemingly oblivious to their presence: "Why is it like this? Why has nothing changed? Why am I still like this?"


    Ambrose analyzed the situation with growing concern. As someone well-versed in story progression, he recognized this as a critical moment ¨C typically, this would be where the love interest steps in to provide emotional support. His eyes scanned his companions: Meihua appeared completely lost, Adelaide found sudden fascination with the local flora, and Hualing... he quickly abandoned that line of thought.


    "Brother, it seems we have to find you a love interest soon," he thought wryly as he approached Marcus. For now, he would have to make this sacrifice himself, hoping Marcus would remember this favor. Kneeling beside the distressed warrior, Ambrose embraced him awkwardly. "It''s okay, calm down."


    A/N - I swear its not BL ( ?¡ã ?? ?¡ã)


    But Marcus continued his spiral: "No, it''s not okay! Even when I said I didn''t want to rely on anyone anymore, I still relied on him. And when I was betrayed, I still trusted again even after vowing never to trust again. And I even relied on her. And in the end, nothing changed. And I''m still doing the same thing now! I''m still the same, I can''t change. I didn''t deserve this chance."


    "Why..." Marcus''s voice cracked with emotion. "Even now, nothing''s changed. I still need others to save me. I swore I wouldn''t trust again, wouldn''t rely on anyone, and yet..."


    Ambrose studied him thoughtfully before speaking. "You know, for someone who claims they don''t want to trust people, you''re remarkably bad at it." His tone carried no mockery, just quiet observation. "Even now, when you say you don''t want to rely on others, your first instinct was to protect everyone by fighting alone."


    Marcus looked up, surprise momentarily breaking through his despair. Ambrose continued, "I don''t know what happened to make you fear trusting others, but maybe that''s not really who you are. The person I see is someone who keeps seeing the good in others, even when they''ve been hurt before. That''s not weakness ¨C it''s probably the bravest thing I''ve seen." He paused meaningfully. "There''s nothing wrong with relying on others. If anything, it proves you''re human. The fact that you can still open your heart to others after being betrayed... that''s not something to be ashamed of. It''s what makes you stronger than those who hurt you."


    "But how can you be sure?" Marcus whispered, vulnerability evident in his voice. "How do I know it won''t happen again?"


    "You don''t," Ambrose replied simply. "But I can promise you this ¨C I''m not the type to betray those who trust me. My word might not mean much to you now, but I hope you''ll give me the chance to prove it."


    A/N - okay, maybe just a little


    "Really?" Marcus looked up with tear-filled eyes, and Ambrose nodded while internally cringing. He could see Meihua and Adelaide''s knowing smiles and swore this would be his last venture into emotional support. "I''ve sacrificed my dignity for you so make sure to repay me by protecting me," he thought, particularly aware of Hualing''s trembling form, clearly ready to forcibly separate them at any moment.


    Suddenly, Ambrose felt cold steel against his neck as Marcus coughed violently, blood spraying from his mouth. Marcus collapsed forward, revealing a grotesque wound in his back. Ambrose''s enhanced perception traced the retracting weapon to its source, his Mind''s Eye immediately providing information about their attacker:


    [Name: Giant Spider Queen]


    [Level: B]


    [Type: Berserker]


    [Weakness: Fire, Ice]


    [Description: An enormous spider three times larger than normal giant spiders. Known for its incredibly tough webbing and highly toxic venom. Enters a berserk state when its eggs are threatened.]


    The massive arachnid loomed over them, its numerous eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence as it surveyed its prey.


    A/N - Next two Chapters should be the end of this volume. Although I keep saying this then switching up, I''m fr fr this time. Also, should we go the BL route or not? Asking for a friend.

 Chapter 35: New Male Lead Needed

    Through the dungeon¡¯s winding passages, Astera Frostweaver strode with purposeful haste, her footsteps echoing off stone walls. As the student council president and captain of the school¡¯s ace team, every movement carried the weight of authority. Beside her walked Celeste Whitehaven, her religious attire and cross-marked blindfold marking her as distinctly different from her companions. Though born a commoner, her awakening of a Mythical-ranked talent had elevated her to the position of saintess within the Holy Church.


    Their path was littered with grim reminders of the dungeon¡¯s dangers - the bodies of fallen students lay scattered like broken dolls. Each time they passed one, Celeste would pause, her hands clasped in prayer as she murmured blessings for the departed souls. The contrast between her solemn reverence and the ace team¡¯s urgent pace created a palpable tension.


    Their advance halted at the sight of living students - Lysander¡¯s group, running as if death itself pursued them. Their faces were masks of terror, clothes torn and dirty from their desperate flight.


    "Stop!" Astera¡¯s command cut through their panic like a blade. Recognition flickered across their faces as they stumbled to a halt, gasping for breath. Though their disheveled state and obvious fear begged questions, Astera remained focused on her mission. Without preamble, she produced a photograph of Ambrose, holding it before them. "Have you seen this person?"


    Lysander¡¯s eyes widened slightly as he studied the image. "They¡¯re the group with that crazy girl..." he began, only to have his words cut short as one of the ace team members seized him by the collar.


    "Where is he?" the man demanded, his grip tightening on Lysander¡¯s expensive clothing. The noble¡¯s face twisted with indignation - he was accustomed to deference, to having others curry his favor. This rough treatment left him baffled.


    "Calm down," Astera intervened smoothly, separating them before repeating the question with quiet intensity. "Where is he?"


    Lysander¡¯s mind raced through calculations. He recognized these people through his information network - the student council president and the academy¡¯s elite force. With a resigned sigh, he pointed down the path they were running from. "If you go straight that way, you¡¯ll find them there. They¡¯ve built a huge shelter that¡¯s visible from afar." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thanks!" Astera turned to leave, but Celeste¡¯s voice halted their departure.


    "They are also students," the saintess protested. "Aren¡¯t we going to escort them out?"


    "We¡¯ve already cleared all the monsters on the way," Astera dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand. "They should be able to get there on their own. Besides, they aren¡¯t our main priorities right now."


    Celeste¡¯s posture stiffened with righteous indignation. "What do you mean priorities? This is clear discrimination - everyone is equal in the eyes of the goddess. Why do you put one above the other?"


    The others regarded her as if she¡¯d just questioned the most obvious thing ever. Astera¡¯s response carried a sharp edge of sarcasm: "Do you want to try telling that to Victoria?"


    The name alone was enough to silence Celeste¡¯s protests. She resumed walking without another word, though her disapproval remained evident in every step. Astera watched her retreat, a thought crossing her mind that she didn¡¯t bother to suppress: "Fucking cultist."


    ¡­


    In the forest clearing, Ambrose stared at Marcus¡¯s unconscious form and the monstrous arachnid that towered before them, his mind racing with calculations. "Dammit! I let my guard down," he berated himself, realizing his enhanced senses had failed to detect the initial attack. He wondered what to do now, earlier when he teleported towards Marcus, he used a huge amount of his mental strength to account for the extra distance, and then he used an even larger amount to teleport with Marcus with him. Now, he had less than half of his mental strength left.


    The spider queen launched another assault, its steel-like webbing forming deadly spears that cut through the air. Meihua who was a few meters away from him shouted, "Dodge to the left!" Though Meihua¡¯s warning to dodge left matched his own calculations perfectly, Ambrose remained rooted in place, he didn¡¯t want to leave the unconscious Marcus but he didn¡¯t know if he could still teleport with another person given how low his mental strength was.


    "Dammit!" With gritted teeth, he grabbed Marcus and activated Blink once more, knowing full well his depleted mental strength might not carry them far enough. They materialized mere meters away just as the spider¡¯s web obliterated their previous position, turning several trees into splinters.


    Struggling to his feet, Ambrose attempted to drag Marcus to cover, but his body refused to respond. A system notification appeared before him:


    [You have reached [Body Limit] using physical abilities in this state is not recommended]


    "What the heck?" he muttered in frustration, he hadn¡¯t even managed to move him an inch before he was completely exhausted. The spider queen¡¯s numerous eyes locked onto their new position, and seeing its ranged attacks had failed, it charged forward with frightening speed.


    Just before it could reach them, Hualing intercepted the monster with explosive force, her small frame colliding with the massive arachnid. Through their mental link, Ambrose began feeding her tactical information, calculating attack trajectories and weak points.


    "Web coming from your right!" he transmitted, allowing Hualing to dodge a deadly strand.


    Despite Ambrose¡¯s guidance, the gap in raw power became increasingly apparent. The spider queen¡¯s attacks carried devastating force, each blow sending Hualing skidding backward. Though she managed to land occasional hits, they seemed to barely faze the creature.


    Blood streamed from multiple wounds across Hualing¡¯s body as she continued her relentless assault. Her uniform hung in tatters, yet she pressed forward with unwavering determination. The spider queen¡¯s movements became increasingly erratic, frustrated by this prey that refused to die.


    Suddenly, the monster¡¯s entire body pulsed with crimson energy. Its already massive form began expanding, nearly doubling in size as it entered a berserk state. The transformation complete, it swatted Hualing aside like an annoying insect, her body crashing through a thick tree trunk before coming to rest in a broken heap.


    The enraged creature turned its attention to Ambrose, its numerous eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence. It launched a concentrated web attack, the crystalline strands promising certain death. Ambrose attempted to activate Blink one more time, only to receive another system notification:


    [Ding! You have pushed yourself to the limit]


    [You have reached [Mind Limit] using mind related abilities in this state is not recommended]


    The deadly web closed the distance in microseconds. Even facing imminent death, Ambrose¡¯s Rational Mind skill kept him analyzing possibilities, searching for any avenue of survival. In that crucial moment, Hualing appeared before him, her body moving with desperate speed to shield him from the attack.


    But she had miscalculated - the web¡¯s momentum proved too great. The crystalline strands pierced through her body as if it were paper, continuing their deadly path to impale Ambrose as well. The force of the impact lifted them both off their feet, carrying them backward until they slammed into a tree trunk, pinned together like butterflies in a collection.


    A/N - rip


    This chapter was kinda rushed, i¡¯ll try to edit it late

 Chapter 36: Scratch That We Need a Whole New Cast

    The world seemed to crystallize before Meihua¡¯s eyes, a creeping frost spreading across her vision like delicate fractal patterns on a winter window. In just ninety devastating seconds, she had watched her entire party fall. Her gaze drifted to Marcus¡¯s crumpled form on the ground, his condition deteriorating with each passing moment. "What is happening?" The thought echoed through her mind as she turned to the grotesque sight of Hualing and Ambrose, pinned together against a tree by crystalline webbing. While Hualing¡¯s superhuman constitution might let her survive such wounds, Meihua couldn¡¯t bring herself to contemplate Ambrose¡¯s fate.


    "When did everything spiral so far from the script?" Her thoughts raced as the air around her grew increasingly thick with frost and fog. She had read the original story countless times, memorized every possible outcome. The early changes - Ambrose¡¯s premature awakening, Adelaide¡¯s continued existence, Marcus¡¯s psychological breakdown, their team¡¯s early power-ups - all these had seemed manageable deviations. But now, facing a monster that had never existed in the original narrative, the full weight of her miscalculation crashed down upon her.


    She had grown complacent, she realized, she got so used to the minor changes to the story she tottally forgot that major changes could happen too. Her field of vision continued to narrow as frost crept inward from the edges, the world before her slowly crystallizing into abstract patterns. "What¡¯s the point of all this knowledge?" she wondered bitterly. "What good is knowing the story when reality refuses to follow the script?"


    Even with every ability at her disposal, she couldn¡¯t calculate a path to victory. It felt as if her very existence terminated at this precise moment, all the paths she could calculate with her skills could never get past this situation. It was what some might call¡­A DEAD END.


    As acceptance of her fate settled in, the world in her vision fully crystallized into brilliant, frozen geometries.


    GAME OVER


    A/N - Am I cooking them too much guys? S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡­


    A distant voice penetrated Meihua¡¯s consciousness. "Hmm? Who¡¯s shouting?" The thought drifted lazily through her mind. "Must be Mom. But why is she shouting so loudly? I don¡¯t remember having school today." The comforting illusion of normalcy wrapped around her like a warm blanket. "Just one more minute," she thought drowsily. "I promise I¡¯ll get up soon..."


    A sharp crack of pain across her face shattered the peaceful delusion. "Will you snap out of it already?" Adelaide¡¯s voice cut through the fog as another slap connected. Reality rushed back with shocking clarity. Meihua desperately gasped for air. She coughed violently, struggling to regulate her breathing as her vision cleared, the frost and fog melting away to reveal the brutal reality of their situation.


    "Mana deviation?" The realization struck her. She had read about it in the story, It was a condition that caused heroes to lose control of their mana and was almost always fatal. To think that she had slipped into it without even realizing. If it wasn¡¯t for Adelaide pulling her back¡­


    Before she could process this brush with death, the spider queen loomed over them, its massive form blocking out the canopy above.


    "Get down!" she screamed to Adelaide, her mind automatically calculating the monster¡¯s attack trajectory. Both women threw themselves to the ground as the creature¡¯s limb whistled through the air where they had stood. But the monster¡¯s follow-up came too quickly - a casual sweep of its leg sent them flying like discarded toys.


    Adelaide¡¯s flight ended against a tree trunk with a sickening crack, her form crumpling unconsciously to the ground. Meihua, despite her inferior physical stats, managed to apply her calculations mid-flight. Her [Statistical Analysis] worked overtime, factoring in air resistance, momentum, and optimal landing positions. Even so, the impact sent shockwaves of pain through her body. Multiple fractures, her mind supplied clinically as she struggled to her feet.


    The spider queen advanced methodically, its numerous eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence. Meihua forced herself upright, her body protesting every movement, to face what might be her final confrontation. But this time, he mind was perfectly clear, and best all, she could see it¡­


    A/N - See what? Wrong answers only


    ¡­


    High above the ruined academy grounds, Friedrich Rothschild hovered with supernatural grace, his golden eyes glowing as he manipulated time itself to restore the devastated buildings. Fragments of stone and wood reversed their trajectories, flowing back into place like water running uphill. Shattered windows reformed, their broken pieces dancing through the air to reconstruct themselves perfectly.


    The other heads of the great houses had already retreated, nursing both their wounds and wounded pride. Friedrich understood their hasty departure - few could stomach the shame of being so thoroughly defeated, even by someone of Victoria¡¯s caliber. But he remained, his heart too heavy with concern for his son to consider leaving.


    The surveillance crystals that normally monitored the dungeon¡¯s interior had gone dark the moment the ace team entered, and all attempts at communication had failed. This enforced ignorance of his son¡¯s fate gnawed at him, driving him to throw himself into the reconstruction work rather than dwelling on his helplessness. At least this way, he could feel like he was doing something. He didn¡¯t want his son to miss school after staying home for so long just because his mother and father destroyed it while fighting.


    Below, students and staff gathered in small clusters, their whispered conversations punctuated by furtive glances upward. The sight of Friedrich Rothschild, the head of the kingdom¡¯s most powerful family, engaging in manual labor - even if through magic - was unprecedented. Some even dared to capture the moment with memory crystals, though they tried to be discreet about it.


    A momentary lapse in concentration caused Friedrich to waver in the air, his usually perfect control slipping. Though he recovered instantly, the brief falter revealed more than he¡¯d intended. While Victoria had largely spared him during their earlier confrontation, her final attack in that otherworldly spirit form had struck indiscriminately. Even he, with all his power, hadn¡¯t emerged unscathed.


    His hands trembled slightly as he continued his work, though not from physical strain. The weight of his failure pressed down on him - as a husband who couldn¡¯t protect his wife from making such a sacrifice, as a father who couldn¡¯t enter the dungeon to save his son. His heart yearned to chase after Victoria, to challenge even the Spirit King himself, but he knew that would only waste her sacrifice. The cruel irony of his position wasn¡¯t lost on him - too powerful to enter the dungeon, too weak to defy the Spirit King.


    Meanwhile, deep within the dungeon¡¯s labyrinthine passages, Astera demonstrated why she led the academy¡¯s ace team. Her movements flowed like liquid grace as she dispatched a dire wolf with her ice blade, the frozen weapon cleaving through the beast with surgical precision. Without missing a beat, she spun to face another wolf attempting to flank her, pressing a single finger to its muzzle. Ice crystals bloomed from the point of contact, rapidly encasing the creature in a pristine frozen shell before it shattered into countless glittering shards.


    Nearby, Celeste focused on healing their injured teammates. Since they were low on time, they had abandoned all defenses and adopted a purely offensive strategy, prioritizing speed over safety - a risky approach, but necessary given the stakes. After completing her healing duties, she knelt beside the fallen monsters, hands clasped in prayer.


    Astera watched this display with genuine puzzlement. "I thought monsters were considered beings of darkness," she ventured. "Shouldn¡¯t the goddess of light hate darkness?"


    The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Celeste¡¯s eyes lit up with religious fervor as she launched into an impassioned sermon:


    "This is a common misconception," Celeste began, her voice taking on the rhythmic cadence of a practiced preacher. "The Goddess Aurora doesn¡¯t hate darkness - she understands that darkness is merely the absence of light. Her divine mission isn¡¯t to destroy darkness, but to illuminate all corners of creation. Just as the sun rises each day to share its warmth with all beings indiscriminately, the Goddess¡¯s love extends to all creatures, be they human or monster. It¡¯s our sacred duty to-"


    "We should get moving," Astera interrupted, already striding away. Under her breath, she muttered, "Why did I even bother?"

 Chapter 37: Let’s Make A Bet

    Meihua stood her ground as the monstrous spider queen loomed before her. With calm determination, she activated her suite of analytical abilities in rapid succession:


    [Statistical Analysis](A) - Enhances the user¡¯s ability to process and analyze large sets of data in real-time. The user can instantly calculate probabilities, identify patterns, and predict likely outcomes based on available information. This ability proves particularly useful in combat situations by analyzing enemy attack patterns or in gambling scenarios by tracking card distributions. The processing speed and accuracy scale with mental strength.


    [Combat Calculator](B) - Enables rapid calculation of trajectories, angles, and forces during combat situations. The user can instantly determine optimal positioning, predict bullet paths, and calculate the most efficient movement patterns. While this ability doesn¡¯t enhance physical capabilities, it provides perfect theoretical solutions that the user can attempt to execute within their physical limitations.


    [Risk Assessment](B) - Provides the ability to instantly calculate risk factors in any given situation. The user can process multiple variables simultaneously to determine the probability of success or failure for potential actions. This includes analyzing environmental factors, participant capabilities, and various possible outcomes. The analysis becomes more accurate with more available information.


    [Variable Processing](C) - A foundational ability that enhances the user¡¯s capability to track and process multiple changing variables simultaneously. The user can maintain awareness of up to 20 different changing factors at once, updating calculations in real-time as situations evolve. While not as flashy as other abilities, it provides crucial support for the user¡¯s other analytical skills.


    As her skills synchronized, the battlefield transformed before her eyes. What had been chaos moments before now appeared as clearly defined paths of possibility, each action branching into countless potential outcomes. More importantly, she finally began to grasp the true nature of her Calculation talent. Previously, her attempts at path calculation had only revealed dead ends, showing her inevitable doom. But now, for the first time, she could see it - a golden thread of possibility leading to survival.


    Without hesitation, as the spider queen¡¯s massive limb rocketed toward her, Meihua closed her eyes. In the fraction of a second before impact, her eyes snapped open, revealing an otherworldly sight. Numbers cascaded through her irises like falling stars, accompanied by an intricate dance of mathematical symbols that seemed to defy the laws of reality themselves.


    "Let¡¯s make a bet," she declared, her voice carrying an unnatural calm. The world seemed to freeze at her words, the monster¡¯s attack halting mid-strike. Holographic chains erupted from the ground like ghostly serpents, their ethereal forms gradually solidifying into gleaming golden bindings that wrapped around both Meihua and the spider queen, rooting them in place.


    As the chains settled into position, a massive beam balance materialized beside them, its ancient bronze arms suspended in perfect equilibrium. The air beside it darkened and twisted, coalescing into a hooded figure that seemed to absorb the very light around it. The being¡¯s skeletal hands gripped an obsidian scythe, its blade catching what little light remained and reflecting it back as absolute darkness. Though its face remained hidden in the shadows of its hood, Meihua could feel its hollow gaze fixed upon them, as if weighing more than just their physical forms.


    She then pulled her hands apart, preparing to invoke her ultimate skill:


    [Fate Wager](S) - A powerful ability that creates binding conditions in probability-based challenges. Upon activation, the user can select one participant and declare a single condition tied to a simple probability event (coin flip, dice roll, etc.). The severity of the condition must be proportional to the user¡¯s current mana, with more severe effects requiring exponentially more mana. For example, binding a 10% HP loss might cost 100 mana, while a 50% HP loss would cost 1000 mana. The mana cost is deducted immediately upon activation, regardless of the outcome. Conditions cannot exceed what the user¡¯s current mana can support, making instant-death conditions nearly impossible due to astronomical mana requirements. Once activated, the condition becomes absolute and will execute automatically based on the outcome.


    Between her separated palms, a single coin materialized, hanging suspended in the air. Unlike the Flame Serpent they¡¯d faced earlier, this spider queen possessed only basic animal intelligence, operating purely on instinct. Yet Meihua knew that understanding wasn¡¯t required - the moment she¡¯d activated her skill, the monster had already become bound as a participant.


    "I¡¯ll be heads," she announced to her uncomprehending opponent, gently plucking the floating coin from the air, "and you¡¯ll be tails." Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she continued, "If it lands on heads, you¡¯ll lose 50% HP."


    The ancient beam balance creaked ominously, its bronze arms tilting sharply toward the spider queen¡¯s side. The hooded figure¡¯s shoulders slumped visibly, its grip on the obsidian scythe loosening in apparent disappointment. The monster¡¯s condition alone clearly failed to satisfy whatever cosmic scales governed these supernatural wagers.


    But Meihua wasn¡¯t the least bit surprised about this. She knew well that her current mana reserves couldn¡¯t possibly support such a powerful condition. But that limitation didn¡¯t matter - she¡¯d discovered a hidden aspect of her skill, a loophole in the cosmic contract, or maybe it wasn¡¯t a loophole at all but a feature. But that didn¡¯t matter at the moment. While she lacked the mana to enforce the monster¡¯s condition, she could balance the equation by offering something of equal value for her side of the wager. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "But if it lands on tails," she declared, her voice steady despite the weight of her next words, "I¡¯ll die."


    The effect was immediate and dramatic. The beam balance swung back into perfect equilibrium with a resonant ring that seemed to vibrate through reality itself. The hooded figure straightened, its excitement palpable even through its concealing robes. Its skeletal hands tightened eagerly around the scythe¡¯s handle as if already anticipating a potential harvest.


    A maniacal laugh bubbled up from her throat as she observed the balance. Of course she¡¯d awaken a skill like this, after all, talents are an extension of one¡¯s true nature. The coin in her hand began to glow with an otherworldly light, confirming that the bet had been accepted. She smiled, it was to be expected. There was no way that the life of the bearer of a Mythical ranked talent wasn¡¯t worth at least 50% of a B ranked monster¡¯s HP.


    "Let¡¯s see who¡¯s in luck today," she proclaimed, her eyes glinting with dangerous amusement as she launched the coin skyward, its glowing form spinning through the air like a miniature star.


    A/N - And here I thought she was normal. Time to find another love interest ig

 Chapter 38: I Want Some Blood

    In the depths of Hualing¡¯s mental realm, two aspects of her consciousness faced off in heated debate. The space around them seemed to pulse with the urgency of their situation, reflecting the dire circumstances of their physical body pinned against a tree alongside their young master.


    "Why would you do that? Now we¡¯re both going to die!" Minghua¡¯s frustration erupted, her form radiating exasperation. "What sins did I commit in my previous life to meet such a dumb person?"


    Hualing regarded her counterpart with skeptical eyes. "Didn¡¯t you say you were me just a few days ago?" Her tone carried a hint of irony before shifting to urgent desperation. "Now what? Since you said you were from the future, do you have a way to get out of this situation? I need to save the young master."


    "Now you believe me?" Minghua snapped, but Hualing merely stared at her as if she were the irrational one in this situation.


    Minghua threw up her hands in defeat. "Argh! Never mind, arguing with you is pointless." Her expression shifted to something more calculating. "Well, there is a way."


    Hope lit up Hualing¡¯s features instantly. "Tell me! Tell me!"


    "I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s not as easy as you think," Minghua cautioned. "We have to try to stimulate your blood in order to activate your blood talent."


    "How do I do that?" Hualing leaned forward eagerly.


    Minghua¡¯s response crushed that momentary hope. "Well, that¡¯s the problem. You¡¯ve lost too much blood so it¡¯s impossible to do that now. I warned you not to fight in such a barbaric manner" She watched Hualing¡¯s expression crumple into disappointment before quickly adding, "I didn¡¯t say that was the only way."


    The spark of hope returned to Hualing¡¯s eyes. "What other way is there? Tell me!"


    "Well, the good thing is that you have another source of blood," Minghua¡¯s words came slowly, deliberately.


    "You mean..." Hualing¡¯s voice trailed off as the implications of her counterpart¡¯s suggestion sank in. Through their shared physical form, she could feel Ambrose¡¯s blood trickling down where they were pinned together. Though she didn¡¯t know how, she could still sense that he was still alive through his blood - it was the only thing keeping her from despair. But to use his blood, to take even more from his already weakened body...


    Minghua, sensing her hesitation, quickly elaborated: "There¡¯s no need to worry. The human body has about six to seven liters of blood. Even considering his weak body physique and active blood loss, he should still have about four liters left. All we need is one liter. After you¡¯ve awakened your blood talent, you should be able to close up his wounds and prevent further blood loss - you can even regenerate more blood for him."


    Seeing Hualing still wavering, she pressed on. "If you don¡¯t act now, he¡¯ll continue losing more and more blood and it won¡¯t be long before he¡¯s dead..."


    "I¡¯ll do it!" Hualing¡¯s resolve finally crystallized.


    Minghua¡¯s lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Good. Just follow my instructions."


    "Not asking for the body anymore, huh?" Hualing attempted to lighten the moment with weak humor.


    "No!" Minghua¡¯s response was emphatic. "Talent awakening relies on one¡¯s mental state. Although I could still awaken the talent if I control the body, it has a higher chance of awakening when you¡¯re doing it since your desperation is so strong. Besides, with how much you want it, you might even be able to awaken an even stronger talent. Although the original blood talent is a mythical ranked talent that has almost reached its limit, there¡¯s no harm in trying, right?"


    Her calm confidence seemed to steady them both as she concluded, "Now, let¡¯s do this."


    ¡­


    In the eerie stillness following their impalement, Hualing¡¯s eyes flickered open to focus on Ambrose¡¯s motionless form before her. To any observer, he might have appeared lifeless - no visible breathing, no movement, just terrible stillness. But Hualing knew better. Where their bodies were pinned together by the crystalline webbing, she could feel the steady trickle of his blood, each drop carrying the unmistakable warmth of continued life. His silent struggle resonated with her own determination - if the young master fought so hard to survive, how could she do any less?1


    Her gaze drifted to his peaceful features, and something shifted in her perception. "It¡¯s so pretty..." The words escaped her lips unbidden as she found herself drawing closer. "I really want it..." she murmured, continuing her slow advance until a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her head.


    "What was that?" she gasped, shaking off the trance.


    "Have you snapped out of it?" Minghua¡¯s voice rang out, laced with concern and urgency.


    "It¡¯s a charm skill. Don¡¯t look at him directly, or you¡¯ll be ensnared by it," Minghua explained, her tone firm but caring.


    Minghua hadn¡¯t anticipated this complication. Fortunately, the charm had only affected one of their consciousnesses, allowing her to intervene. She didn¡¯t want to imagine what would have happened if they were both affected. "This skill is really similar to THAT person," she mused silently, before dismissing the thought. After all, THAT person had possessed a divine-ranked talent, while Ambrose merely had an ordinary Observation talent. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Despite the party witnessing Ambrose¡¯s teleportation abilities, none of them believed that he had a spatial talent; they instead assumed he possessed a space-type treasure, this was reasonable given his mother was the legendary spatial mage.


    With her eyes now firmly closed to avoid the charm¡¯s influence, Hualing placed her hands on Ambrose¡¯s face, seeking connection through touch alone. Her fingers traced down to his neck, detecting the faint but steady pulse beneath his skin. With practiced precision, she located what she sought - the carotid artery, pulsing with surprising strength. The blood flow there proved remarkably robust, several times what she¡¯d expect in a normal person.


    She briefly considered drawing from the carotid but quickly reconsidered. That artery supplied oxygen-rich blood to the brain, and for an intelligence-type like Ambrose, disrupting that flow could prove catastrophic. Instead, her fingers shifted to locate the jugular vein.1


    Finding her target, she activated her ability:


    [Blood Forge](F) - Create weapons using blood.


    Sharp fangs materialized in her mouth, formed from her own blood. With unwavering determination, she sank them into his neck, beginning the desperate gambit to save them both.


    A/N - Just to clarify, she isn¡¯t saying that he¡¯s alive because he¡¯s bleeding. It¡¯s because she has an affinity for blood so she can tell through his blood that he¡¯s alive.


    A/N - Don¡¯t ask

 Chapter 39: Awakening

    Time crystallized into a single, infinite moment as the coin spun through the air, catching and reflecting fragments of light with each rotation. Meihua¡¯s eyes tracked its every movement with laser-like focus, her mind running countless calculations. Every detail of the flip was etched in her mind, for she had performed all the necessary calculations to ensure her victory. Yet, once the coin left her fingers, the outcome was left entirely to the whims of fate. Rather than feeling nervous, Meihua was exhilarated. The stakes were high¡ªher very life hung in the balance¡ªand that excitement was almost intoxicating. Would it be tails, or heads? Would death claim her today, or would fortune smile upon her?


    The coin spun gracefully in the air, turning and turning as if deliberating over its own fate. Every second stretched out, filled with a heavy expectancy, as though time itself were reluctant to decide the outcome. Beside her, the Grim Reaper maintained a tense grip on its scythe, its gaze fixed unwaveringly on the shimmering coin. Even the Spider Queen, although not fully comprehending every nuance of the ritual, had its many eyes glued to the mysterious, airborne object. The moment stretched like warm honey, each rotation of the coin feeling like an eternity compressed into heartbeats.


    For what felt like an eternity, the coin danced in the space between chance and destiny before it finally began its descent. In the very next instant, Meihua deftly caught the falling coin in her hand. The Grim Reaper¡¯s grip tightened on the scythe, its dark eyes flickering with anticipation as it awaited the result. The Spider Queen, too, seemed to shudder in nervousness, its attention fixed on the outcome.


    A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she observed their reactions. With deliberate slowness, she opened her hand to reveal the result. "Looks like I won¡¯t be dying this time," she declared, satisfaction evident in her voice as the coin displayed heads clearly for all to see.


    The beam balance swung sharply to her side as the Grim Reaper¡¯s shoulders slumped in obvious disappointment. Raising its obsidian scythe, as if acting on a prearranged cue, it swung its scythe toward the Spider Queen. The monstrous creature recoiled in fear, shivering as the chilling swing passed through it. Although not inflicting any visible physical wounds, the attack left an unmistakable, nerve-wracking sensation behind. The Spider Queen could feel its vitality waning¡ªhalf of its health seemed to drain away in that singular, decisive moment. Earlier, when it had dueled with that crazy girl, it had only suffered a meager loss of 0.5% of its HP; now, it was directly robbed of fifty percent.


    With a respectful, almost courteous bow, the Grim Reaper acknowledged them before vanishing¡ªtaking both the balance and its watchful presence with it. The chains that had bound Meihua and the monstrous Spider Queen slowly retracted, leaving the two to face each other once again.


    In its berserk state, the Spider Queen shed the remnants of fear as quickly as they had come. With a roar of anger, it charged directly at Meihua. As the monstrous form closed the distance, Meihua studied it with a measured gaze and a hint of ironic amusement. "Is it not ready yet?" she mused softly, her mind racing as she attempted to evoke her skill once more.


    "I just need one more minute," she murmured, clasping her hands tightly together. She invoked, "Fate Wager!" But this time, nothing happened. Her concentration faltered as she realized she didn¡¯t have nearly enough mana to trigger the skill¡¯s activation. Before she could fully comprehend the gravity of her situation, the monster was upon her. Its massive limb swung wildly, heading straight for Meihua.


    ¡­


    "Stop! Stop! Stop!" Minghua¡¯s urgent voice cut through Hualing¡¯s thoughts. "He¡¯ll really die if you continue!"


    In that jarring moment, Hualing snapped back to reality. Her eyes flew open as she noticed Ambrose¡¯s feeble hands weakly pushing against her¡ªas if pleading for reprieve. A flash of memory surged: the first time she bit into Ambrose, there had been a sweet, almost intoxicating scent that had ensnared her senses, and the taste of his blood was so divine she had lost herself in it. Even now, amid the chaos, that haunting sweetness tempted her to repeat the act¡ªbut there was no time for indulgence.


    Following Minghua¡¯s guidance, she began stimulating her blood. The sensation started as a spark in her abdomen, a burning seed that quickly spread through her entire body like wildfire through dry brush. But this was merely the prelude to true agony. Her skin began to rupture, splitting apart only to knit itself back together, then tear again in an endless cycle of destruction and renewal. Every nerve ending screamed as it was shredded and reformed, each cycle more excruciating than the last.


    In their shared mental realm, Minghua watched with mounting concern. This violent transformation bore little resemblance to her own awakening. She had never seen such a violent talent awakening ¨C had something fundamental changed? She glanced at Hualing¡¯s consciousness form, which writhed in obvious torment. "Just bear with it for a moment, it¡¯ll be over soon," she offered weakly.


    "That¡¯s the third time you¡¯ve said that!" Hualing snapped, but her determination never wavered. Her young master¡¯s life hung by a thread ¨C a thread she¡¯d made even more tenuous by taking more blood than necessary. She had to endure, had to succeed, had to save him.


    When Hualing finally opened her eyes after what felt like an eternity of torment, she emerged transformed. Her once-short black hair now cascaded to her waist, streaked with silver strands that mimicked her master¡¯s pure white locks. Power thrummed through her veins, a strength unlike anything she¡¯d known before.


    She reached out to grasp the crystalline webbing that still pinned them to the tree. The moment her fingers made contact, blood seemed to seep into the material¡¯s very essence. The web dissolved instantly, leaving behind only a fine red powder that the wind quickly carried away.


    Rather than collapse, Hualing gathered Ambrose¡¯s unconscious form into her arms in a princess carry. Blood-red petals materialized in the air before her, forming an elegant staircase that she descended with supernatural grace. After gently laying Ambrose on the ground, she activated one of her newly acquired abilities:


    [Lord¡¯s Shield](S) - The ultimate expression of a ??? devotion. Once per day, the user can redirect all damage intended for their lord to themselves, regardless of the attack¡¯s nature or power. This ability activates instantly and can even intercept fatal blows. While the damage cannot kill the user due to their ???, they still experience the full pain of the redirected damage and require time to recover based on the severity of the injuries.


    A/N - It doesn¡¯t actually have question marks like that, I¡¯m just gatekeeping the name of the talent. Who can guess the talent and rank?


    S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 40: What Does She See in Him

    In the depths of unconsciousness, Ambrose found himself once again suspended in the familiar murky void. The darkness here felt thicker than before, almost viscous, as if it were trying to pull him deeper into its endless depths. As he drifted aimlessly through the oppressive gloom, his thoughts wandered to his last conscious moments ¨C the searing pain of being impaled alongside Hualing, then... nothing.


    Time held no meaning in this place. He could have been here for minutes or days; there was no way to tell. Each time he visited this void, he noticed a disturbing pattern ¨C he started deeper than before, the journey to the surface growing progressively longer. A troubling thought crossed his mind: would there come a time when he¡¯d sink so deep that the return journey would become impossible? The idea sent a chill through his incorporeal form.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of floating, the familiar white light appeared above him. Usually, this marked the moment he¡¯d regain consciousness, his mind returning to his physical form. But something was different this time. Instead of awakening, he found himself stepping into an endless expanse of white ¨C not so much a light as an infinite space that stretched beyond the limits of perception. When he turned to look back, the dark void had vanished completely, as if it had never existed.


    His mind immediately began working through possibilities. Was he unable to return because his body was no longer viable? No, that didn¡¯t make sense. This space existed within his mind ¨C if he could still think, he wasn¡¯t dead. The more likely explanation was that his physical form was in no condition to house consciousness yet.


    Since he wasn¡¯t trapped in the murky depths anymore, Ambrose decided to explore this limitless white expanse. After all, this was where he¡¯d first encountered the fairy who¡¯d granted him the system. As if summoned by his thoughts, a sharp, static-laden feminine voice cut through the silence:


    "Dammit! You tricked me! This wasn¡¯t part of the contract!"


    Although the voice sounded from afar, thanks to his enhanced perception, Ambrose immediately recognized it as the same voice from the fairy who gave him the system back in chapter 2. Despite the voice¡¯s clarity, he could see nothing in the white void before him. He moved toward the sound, suspecting some kind of cloaking mechanism was at work.


    As he drew closer, the voice grew louder until it seemed mere feet away, yet still invisible. One more step forward, and suddenly he felt himself being pulled through what felt like an invisible barrier, the sensation similar to passing through a membrane.


    On the other side, he finally saw her ¨C the spirit, no larger than a smartphone, pacing anxiously in mid-air. Her transparent wings caught the omnipresent light, creating prismatic patterns as she moved.


    "What do I do? What do I do? What do I¡ª" she muttered frantically.


    "Umm..." Ambrose attempted to interject.


    "Wait! I¡¯m trying to think..." she snapped, before doing a double-take. "Ah! You finally decided to speak. Let me tell you, even though I¡¯ve yet to reach the level of a True species, don¡¯t think that you can..." She paused, finally really looking at him. "Oh, it¡¯s you."


    The spirit zipped around him at dizzying speeds, her wings humming like an angry bee. "Hmm, did you also die? Ha! Serves you right!" she mocked.


    "What do you mean ¡¯also¡¯?" Ambrose asked, before adding, "Never mind that ¨C are you the one always leaving those snarky remarks in the system overview?"


    "Hm! System? Oh! You mean the authority?" She gave a dismissive wave. "It¡¯s better to ask that guy over there, but I wouldn¡¯t bet on him responding."


    She pointed to a corner of the space where a figure sat in contemplation. He appeared to be about six feet tall, with pale skin and a slender build that made their gender ambiguous. Ambrose froze in recognition ¨C he had actually seen this person before. The figure looked just like him, an older, more mature version of himself.


    As Ambrose stared, the figure opened their eyes, since the figure wasn¡¯t wearing a blindfold like Ambrose was, he could see it. The right eye was golden, containing an actual working clock mechanism that ticked with each passing second, just like Ambrose¡¯s father. The left eye was a deep blue, filled with spinning stars like a miniature galaxy in motion, exactly like his mother.


    [Nice to meet you] the figure communicated, their voice resonating directly in Ambrose¡¯s mind. [Or should I say, it was nice meeting you]


    Before Ambrose could respond, reality shattered around him. The white void, the spirit, and his mysterious doppelganger all vanished as consciousness slammed back into him. He gasped desperately, his lungs burning as they filled with air. His eyes flew open to find Hualing kneeling beside him, her appearance somehow different than before.


    His Mind¡¯s Eye ability activated automatically:


    [Name: Sun Hualing???]


    [Level: C] S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Talent: Blood Knight (Transcendent)]


    [Health: 6000/6000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 62]


    [Stamina: 79]


    [Agility: 60]


    [Blood Knight¡¯s Oath](Intrinsic) - A profound talent born from absolute loyalty and sacrifice, manifesting in those who have offered their life and blood to their lord. This covenant grants powerful abilities fueled by blood, while binding the knight¡¯s existence to their lord¡¯s life force. (Subskills: [Lord¡¯s Shield](S), [Blood Communion](S), [Crimson Blade](A), [Blood Armor](B), [Vitality Drain](B), [Blood Forge](B))


    ¡­


    Minghua, now in control of Hualing¡¯s body, studied Ambrose¡¯s frail form with curious intensity. The original Hualing had lost consciousness immediately after healing him, the excruciating pain of awakening their shared talent proving too much to bear. As Minghua observed him, she found herself puzzling over Hualing¡¯s deep devotion, what did she see in him?. He looked almost ethereally delicate, as if a gentle breeze might shatter him like fine porcelain.


    "How could she be so devoted to someone so fragile?" Minghua wondered, before catching herself blushing slightly at his delicate features. "Though I admit he is kind of cute," she admitted reluctantly to herself.


    The situation stirred memories of her previous life. Although she worked in the Rothschild household, she had never actually encountered a conscious Ambrose. In her timeline, he had remained in an unresponsive state, and she had never witnessed his awakening. Perhaps it had occurred later, but at this point in the original timeline, he had definitely still been unconscious.


    A small, satisfied smile played across her lips as she considered how Hualing¡¯s obsession had inadvertently served her purposes. She had actually lied about being able to heal Ambrose through the blood talent ¨C that would have been impossible. But Hualing¡¯s desperate desire to save him had achieved something unprecedented: elevating their nearly-maxed blood talent to the transcendent level. With this newfound power, completing the task THAT person had assigned to her seemed far more feasible.


    Her smile faltered slightly as she glanced back at Ambrose. Although she was glad, the talent¡¯s transformation into an oath-type ability complicated matters. Such talents were exceedingly rare and came with binding conditions ¨C harsh restrictions balanced by extraordinary power. Their Blood Knight Talent, for instance, granted them practical immortality as long as Ambrose lived. The catch? His death would mean their death as well.


    Observing his weak constitution, Minghua could only sigh in resignation. "I suppose I¡¯ll have to keep him alive at all costs now," she thought, already feeling the weight of her new responsibility. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on her ¨C she was now bound by the same devotion she had questioned in Hualing, though for entirely different reasons.

 Chapter 41: Overpowered Ancestor

    As consciousness returned to Ambrose, his Mind¡¯s Eye ability activated automatically, presenting him with Hualing¡¯s transformed status:


    [Name: Sun Hualing???]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Blood Knight (Transcendent)]


    [Health: 6000/6000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 62]


    [Stamina: 79]


    [Agility: 60]


    [Blood Knight¡¯s Oath](Intrinsic) - A profound talent born from absolute loyalty and sacrifice, manifesting in those who have offered their life and blood to their lord. This covenant grants powerful abilities fueled by blood, while binding the knight¡¯s existence to their lord¡¯s life force. (Subskills: [Lord¡¯s Shield](S), [Blood Communion](S), [Crimson Blade](A), [Blood Armor](B), [Vitality Drain](B), [Blood Forge](B))


    Ambrose¡¯s eyes widened as he processed the information before him. A Transcendent-level talent? Such a rare talent, the only people that he knew had such a talent were¡ªonly his parents, Friedrich and Victoria Rothschild. The fact that Hualing had awakened such a powerful talent was shocking enough, but the nature of the talent itself sent a chill down his spine. "Blood Knight¡¯s Oath" seemed perfectly aligned with Hualing¡¯s devoted personality, yet something about it felt deeply unsettling.


    Studying her stats more closely, Ambrose noticed significant improvements across the board. Each parameter had increased by roughly half their original values, with her stamina showing the most dramatic change, nearly doubling. This revelation challenged his previous assessment of Hualing as a berserker-type fighter¡ªher stat distribution now suggested she was more suited for a defensive, tank-like role.


    However, what truly caught his attention was the peculiar question mark in her name display. With his mental strength now fully recovered, he channeled more power into his Mind¡¯s Eye ability, causing the display to shift:


    [Name: Sun Hualing/Sun Minghua]


    "Minghua?" The name echoed in his thoughts, though he kept silent. The shared surname and similar given names suggested a possible family connection. Could this be a case of possession by a sibling? But as he studied her current demeanor¡ªcalm and collected rather than displaying Hualing¡¯s characteristic enthusiasm¡ªhe began to form another theory.


    Drawing upon his extensive knowledge of novels (his primary source of worldly information during his bedridden years), Ambrose recalled countless stories where protagonists received inheritances from powerful ancestral spirits. Following this line of thought, he began scrutinizing Hualing¡¯s form more intently, searching for the telltale ring or artifact that typically housed such ancient souls.


    "Young Master?" Minghua¡¯s voice interrupted his examination, having noticed his intense scrutiny. Internally, she fought down a wave of panic. "Have I been found out?" she wondered, quickly reassuring herself, "It can¡¯t be! I¡¯m also Hualing¡ªhow could I fail to imitate myself perfectly?"


    Realizing he¡¯d been caught staring, Ambrose cleared his throat awkwardly. "It¡¯s nothing," he muttered, somewhat embarrassed at finding no mysterious ring. Perhaps he¡¯d let his novel-influenced imagination run wild again. The thought reminded him that once this crisis ended, he should probably expand his reading material beyond fiction.


    His self-reflection was cut short as his enhanced perception caught movement in his peripheral vision¡ªthe Spider Queen was bearing down on Meihua. Without hesitation, he instructed Hualing to assist, but noticed her obvious reluctance.


    Minghua¡¯s internal struggle played across her features. After their talent¡¯s transformation, she couldn¡¯t risk letting Ambrose out of her sight¡ªtheir lives were now literally bound together. "B-but what will happen to the young master if I leave?" she protested, channeling Hualing¡¯s characteristic concern.


    "This ancestor is remarkably good at imitating her descendant," Ambrose mused, amused by what he assumed was method acting. "The tree really doesn¡¯t fall far from the apple¡ªor is it the other way around?" Aloud, he assured her, "Just go, there¡¯s no one else here. What could possibly happen?"


    Though Minghua complied, she kept glancing back as she moved toward the battle, maintaining visual contact with Ambrose. He responded with encouraging waves and smiled, confident in what he believed to be an ancient expert¡¯s abilities. "Surely an ancestral spirit can handle a mere level gap," he reasoned, turning his attention to Marcus¡¯s prone form. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With Minghua engaged in combat, Ambrose began making his way toward his injured companion. His mother¡¯s paranoid preparation had left his spatial ring well-stocked with medical supplies¡ªnearly half its capacity dedicated to various healing items. As he approached Marcus, a wry smile crossed his face. "After all the embarrassment I went through for you," he muttered, "how could I possibly let you die so easily?"


    ¡­


    Liu Meihua watched with bated breath as the Spider Queen¡¯s massive limb descended toward her. "Any day now," she thought grimly, feeling her active skills flickering and dying one by one as her depleted mana pool finally ran dry. The monster¡¯s appendage was mere inches from her face when a blur of motion intercepted the attack.


    Minghua had arrived just in time, deflecting the deadly strike with seemingly casual ease. Before the Spider Queen could recover its balance, she followed through with a devastating kick that sent the massive creature flying several meters backward, its chitinous body crashing through the underbrush.


    Relief flooded through Meihua¡¯s body, her legs finally giving out as she slumped to the ground. Despite having anticipated this rescue, the close call had left her heart racing¡ªdeath had been a little too close for comfort. She let herself fall backward, lying flat on the forest floor as she struggled to catch her breath, her chest heaving with each desperate gulp of air.


    Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of Ambrose administering treatment to Marcus in the distance. The knowledge that both of them were safe finally allowed the tension to leave her body. With her final reserves of strength depleted and her task complete, she surrendered to the exhaustion pulling at her consciousness, her eyes drifting closed as she passed out.


    The Spider Queen, meanwhile, struggled to right itself after the unexpected attack. As it regained its footing, its internal assessment registered a surprising two percent drop in its HP from that single strike¡ªa shocking amount of damage from someone it had previously deemed insignificant. Its many eyes focused on Minghua with newfound wariness.


    Minghua responded by extending her arm, summoning her power. Blood materialized above her palm, defying gravity as it stretched and shaped itself. The crimson liquid condensed and hardened, forming a perfectly crafted katana that caught the filtered sunlight with an ominous gleam.


    "Time for round two," she declared, her voice carrying a quiet confidence as she raised her blood-forged blade and charged at the monster, closing the distance with frightening speed.

 Chapter 42: Back to Square One

    Minghua charged forward, her graceful movement belying the deadly intent behind her strike. The Spider Queen, though still dazed, managed to deflect her initial downward slash with one of its chitinous limbs. The blade scraped against the monster¡¯s natural armor with a sharp screech that echoed through the forest.


    As the creature retaliated with a powerful swing, Minghua demonstrated a stark contrast to Hualing¡¯s earlier berserker style. Where Hualing had been all fury and forward momentum, Minghua moved like water, flowing away from the attack with calculated precision. Her blade work transformed the brutal business of combat into an elegant dance, each movement purposeful and refined.


    From his position tending to Marcus¡¯s wounds, Ambrose couldn¡¯t help but observe the familiar patterns in Minghua¡¯s swordplay. His perception and Mind¡¯s Eye ability caught every nuance of her technique, and the similarities to Marcus¡¯s style were undeniable. The same foundational forms, the identical rhythm in the footwork ¨C it was too precise to be coincidental.


    "Of course," Ambrose thought as he applied a healing salve to Marcus¡¯s injuries. "This must be why Marcus¡¯s swordsmanship seemed so refined ¨C he learned it from Hualing¡¯s ancestor in his previous life." This revelation seemed to explain so many of his earlier suspicions about Hualing. He had wondered how someone so unstable could possibly be related to the main character ¨C it all made sense if she was actually hosting an ancestral spirit. That would mean that the one shown in the cover wasn¡¯t actually Hualing but rather her ancestor.1


    The battle continued as Minghua executed a precise thrust toward the Spider Queen. The monster, proving craftier than expected, instantly deployed a spray of webbing that ensnared her blood-forged blade. A brief contest of strength ensued, but Minghua, recognizing her disadvantage, made a tactical decision. She released her grip on the sword, causing the Spider Queen to stumble backward from its own pulling force.


    With elegant poise, Minghua extended her hand toward the monster and snapped her fingers. The trapped sword instantly reverted to its liquid state, seeping through the sticky webbing like crimson rain. With a fluid gesture of her hand, the blood reformed into a deadly constellation of crystalline daggers, which she launched at the creature¡¯s cluster of eyes.


    Though the Spider Queen managed to shield itself with its foremost limbs, three of its eight eyes were still pierced by the deadly projectiles. The monster reeled backward, its movements becoming erratic as the berserk state that had empowered it began to fade. Its massive form shrank rapidly, condensing to half its original size.


    But the horror wasn¡¯t over. The Spider Queen¡¯s abdomen began to twist and contort unnaturally, bulging in impossible ways before finally rupturing in a grotesque display. Hundreds of smaller spiders poured forth from the breach, scattering in all directions like a living flood of nightmare fuel.


    Minghua responded instantly, morphing her blood into a long whip. With precise strikes, she began decimating the smaller spiders, each swing turning clusters of them into crimson mist. She moved methodically, ensuring none could escape ¨C particularly toward Ambrose¡¯s position, which she guarded with special vigilance.


    However, the continuous use of her blood-based abilities was taking its toll. Having already expended significant blood earlier, she could feel her stamina waning. A knowing smile crossed her face as she activated one of her new abilities:


    [Blood Communion](S) - Enables rapid recovery and enhancement through blood absorption. The user can absorb blood through touch to restore health and enhance their physical capabilities. The blood of their lord is exceptionally potent, providing 10 times the normal recovery rate and temporarily boosting all stats by 50%. Common blood provides minimal benefits, while blood from powerful beings offers moderate enhancement. Excessive use of this ability on normal blood can lead to temporary blood frenzy.


    ¡­


    The scattered blood from the battlefield began to defy gravity, rising from the ground in crimson streams. It all flowed toward Minghua, who absorbed it with visible delight. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as the power coursed through her veins.


    "Yes, this feeling..." she whispered, before her voice rose in exultation. "This is it!" She leaped skyward, and the blood followed her ascent like a loyal servant. Standing on a platform of suspended blood, she commanded it to spiral around her hands, condensing and crystallizing into an ever-expanding disk until it formed a perfect chakram, its edges gleaming with deadly promise.


    With practiced precision, she began to swing the weapon in wide, devastating arcs. Each sweep carved through the air with terrible efficiency, eliminating roughly a hundred of the smaller spiders with every pass. As she descended back to the ground, she continued absorbing the blood from her vanquished enemies, maintaining a constant cycle of destruction and replenishment.


    However, her expression grew serious as she observed the Spider Queen, which showed no signs of slowing its grotesque production of offspring. While Minghua was confident in her ability to maintain this war of attrition, she was wary of consuming too much "dirty blood" ¨C the risk of entering a frenzied state was too high.


    "I¡¯m not sure if this body can really handle it, but here we go," she muttered to herself. "Isn¡¯t it supposed to be immortal? Let¡¯s put that to the test, shall we?" She brought her hands together in a prayer-like gesture, closing her eyes to focus her power. The sounds of scurrying spiders surrounded her, but she remained perfectly still, achieving complete calm.


    When her eyes reopened, they had transformed into pools of pure red. A halo of crystallized blood materialized above her head, completing her otherworldly appearance. Her voice, when it came, was unnaturally soft and devoid of emotion.


    "Blood Domain:..." she began, but never finished.


    "We can¡¯t have that now, can we?" A masculine voice whispered beside her ear. Every instinct screamed at Minghua to dodge, but her tactical mind made a split-second assessment ¨C if this individual had managed to approach so closely while she was in her enhanced state, evasion would be pointless. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Instead, she activated another skill, confident that her combination of Blood Domain and newly awakened talent¡¯s defensive abilities would protect her, even against an A-rank opponent:


    [Blood Armor](B) - Creates a protective layer of hardened blood around the user. This living armor can automatically respond to attacks, strengthening weak points or extending to block incoming strikes. The armor gradually consumes the user¡¯s blood to maintain itself and repair damage. When severely damaged, it can be instantly restored by consuming a large amount of blood at once.


    As the protective blood began to form around her, Minghua turned her head to face her attacker. Their eyes met for a brief, terrible moment ¨C just long enough for her to register his menacing smile ¨C before his hand made contact with her body. The blood armor hadn¡¯t even finished materializing when his strike connected, instantly reducing her to a fine crimson mist that scattered on the wind.


    A/N - rip


    A/N - alr bud. On a serious note, I just realized that Ambrose¡¯s "narrative identity formation" (idk) is to the extreme, almost to the point of being straight up delusional. I should probably explore his character more.

 Chapter 43: It’s Over, Finally Done, Final (fr fr this time)

    The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy as Ambrose finished securing the last bandage around Marcus¡¯s torso. Despite the seemingly simple task, his pathetically low strength stat had turned it into quite an ordeal. Just shifting Marcus onto his side had left Ambrose¡¯s arms trembling from exertion ¨C a stark reminder of his physical limitations. Still, he managed a small smile of satisfaction as he surveyed his handiwork. Though Marcus had lost a concerning amount of blood, his vitals remained stable. With proper rest, he should make a full recovery.


    A sudden hush fell over the battlefield, drawing Ambrose¡¯s attention. The sight that greeted him stole his breath away. Hualing hovered in the air, transformed into something otherworldly. A crystalline halo of blood floated above her head, its crimson light casting an ethereal glow across her features. She looked like an angel of war, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.


    But the moment of awe shattered as a figure materialized beside her with impossible speed. Even with Ambrose¡¯s enhanced perception, he could barely track the movement ¨C just a blur of motion that resolved into a humanoid shape. As his mind processed the newcomer¡¯s features, his heart nearly stopped. Grey skin that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Obsidian horns that curved up from an aristocratic brow. This was no human, but a demon, and a pretty high ranking one at that.


    Time seemed to slow as the demon¡¯s hand reached for Hualing¡¯s head. The motion appeared almost gentle, almost caring ¨C right until her entire form dissolved into a fine crimson mist that scattered on the wind like flower petals in a storm.


    Yet even as he witnessed what should have been a horrifying death, Ambrose¡¯s pulse remained steady, his mind clear. Partly this was thanks to his Rational Mind skill, but more importantly, he had noticed a new addition to his abilities just moments before:


    [Lord¡¯s Covenant](Unique) - The sacred other half of the blood oath, marking the lord¡¯s acceptance of their knight¡¯s eternal loyalty. This talent creates an unbreakable bond between lord and knight, enabling support and communion across any distance. (Subskills: [Blood Revival](SSS), [Soul Link](A), [Lord¡¯s Voice](B), [Blood Sense](B), [Knight¡¯s Beacon](C))


    Unexpectedly, Hualing had actually awakened a contract-type talent, creating an unbreakable link between them. As long as his heart continued beating, death could not truly claim her. Even now, he could sense her through their connection:


    [Blood Sense](B) - Allows the lord to sense their knight¡¯s general condition and location at all times. The lord maintains constant awareness of their knight¡¯s physical state, including severity of injuries and blood loss. They can also sense the general direction and approximate distance to their knight, making separation nearly impossible. The accuracy of this sense increases with proximity.


    Though Hualing¡¯s presence felt distant and faint, like a candle flame glimpsed through frosted glass, it persisted. Ambrose suspected that the longer he waited to resurrect her, the more difficult the task would become. But that consideration fled his mind as the demon¡¯s gaze locked onto him. Those ancient eyes began to glow with eldritch power, and before Ambrose could even think to resist, darkness claimed his consciousness.


    ¡­ S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ambrose closely watched the demon¡¯s movement. That¡¯s right, he was still conscious. Despite the demon¡¯s mental assault, Ambrose remained fully conscious, his mind sharp and clear. The combination of his Rational Mind skill and Mental Fortress had proved remarkably effective against the sudden mental attack:


    [Mental Fortress](S) - Creates an impenetrable defense system against all forms of mental interference. The user gains complete immunity to hypnosis and mind control attempts, 95% resistance to illusion-based abilities, and 90% resistance to mental-type damage. The skill also eliminates mental fatigue entirely, allowing for indefinite peak mental performance while providing rapid recovery from any mental strain that does occur.


    Though the skill¡¯s description made rather grandiose claims, Ambrose had discovered its limitations ¨C while it prevented mental fatigue and provided excellent defensive capabilities, it didn¡¯t actually reduce the mental strength cost of his abilities. Still, in situations like this, its protective aspects proved invaluable.


    Keeping his eyes closed and body still, Ambrose relied on his Spatial Awareness to track the demon¡¯s movements. The creature moved with casual grace, retrieving what appeared to be a spatial storage bag from thin air. With a negligent gesture, it absorbed both the Spider Queen and its scattered offspring into the container. The demon gave the bag a contemplative shake, muttering, "Still not perfect..." as if evaluating some unseen quality.


    Its attention then shifted to Liu Meihua¡¯s unconscious form. The demon reached toward her face with an almost curious expression, only to halt mere inches from contact. "Hm? You actually managed to awaken this soon?" Surprise colored its voice before shifting to resignation. "Well, no matter! We¡¯ll just have to move our plans forward a little."


    Abandoning its interest in Meihua, the demon returned to where Hualing had made her last stand. It crouched, pressing one finger against the blood-stained earth before bringing the crimson droplet to its lips with an analytical expression. "Hmm, I wasn¡¯t paying attention before but wasn¡¯t that a domain type authority?" The demon¡¯s face contorted in frustration as its palm met forehead. "I should have taken her alive for questioning, she seemed to be related to the Spirit King." Rising to its feet, it sighed, "Well, it doesn¡¯t matter now, I¡¯ll just have to endure the professor¡¯s nagging."


    Seizing the opportunity, Ambrose activated his Mind¡¯s Eye skill, hoping to gather intelligence on this powerful being:


    [Name: Sin of ???]


    The attempt yielded nothing but that cryptic fragment, the rest dissolving into incomprehensible symbols despite Ambrose expending over half his mental strength reserves. By his calculations, he¡¯d need at least quintuple his current mental strength to pierce whatever veiled the demon¡¯s true nature. The vast gulf in their power levels was sobering, but it raised an interesting question ¨C how had such a powerful entity penetrated the dungeon¡¯s defenses?


    Before he could pursue that line of thought, the demon¡¯s head snapped toward him, its gaze penetrating despite Ambrose¡¯s pretense of unconsciousness. "And what do we have here..." it purred, stalking closer with predatory grace.


    Salvation came in the form of distant voices cutting through the forest: "I think they are over there, let¡¯s hurry!" The approaching chorus of concerned murmurs gave the demon pause. It scratched the back of its head with exaggerated annoyance, "I should probably get moving if I don¡¯t want to get lectured even more by that shitty professor." Shadows gathered around its form like a cloak, and between one heartbeat and the next, the demon vanished as if it had never existed, leaving behind only questions and the lingering scent of brimstone.


    A/N - This arc is finally over (fr fr this time)

 Chapter 44: It’s Just A Theory

    In the aftermath of the demon¡¯s departure, Ambrose remained perfectly still for several long moments, his Spatial Awareness extending outward like an invisible net. The ability granted him crystal-clear perception of everything within a fifty-meter radius, allowing him to confirm that the demonic presence had truly vanished. His eyes lingered on the spots where the demon had stood, then shifted to where Meihua lay unconscious, his mind already racing through possibilities.


    The demon¡¯s words about Meihua gnawed at him. As a fellow transmigrator, something didn¡¯t add up ¨C how could she have pre-existing connections in this world? He wondered if he had been wrong in his earlier judgement. His brow furrowed as he recalled the spatial energy that clung to her when he first met her, for it to be artificially applied, one would need to be as strong as Victoria, and do it continuously for about a month straight for it to be that much. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And having spent days observing both her and Marcus in the dungeon, he¡¯d noticed how the spatial essence around Meihua and the temporal energy surrounding Marcus had gradually faded. This meant that the energy they had earlier was probably not even the full amount, making it even harder to replicate. For someone to artificially replicate that¡­Ambrose didn¡¯t even want to imagine how strong such a person would be so he quickly dismissed the thought. It was just too far-fetched. Yet this raised another question ¨C why had the demon acted with such familiarity? It seemed as if the demon knew about her beforehand. Unless¡­the demon knew about her but she didn¡¯t know about the demon.


    Ambrose¡¯s mind raced through possibilities, each thought building upon the last. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t the demon itself but rather this mysterious "professor" it had mentioned. Could this professor possess knowledge of the future? Or more intriguingly, might they be responsible for Meihua¡¯s transmigration?


    He shook his head, discarding that theory almost immediately. It didn¡¯t align with the available evidence. Ambrose had always been someone who didn¡¯t like having gaps in his information. This was one of the reasons why he had agreed to take in Adelaide as he was interested in having his own information network. Drawing upon every scrap of information at his disposal, Ambrose began constructing a more comprehensive hypothesis.


    The demon¡¯s casual reference to enduring the professor¡¯s "nagging" or "lecture" rather than any physical punishment was particularly interesting. While this could suggest the professor wasn¡¯t violent by nature, Ambrose found that unlikely given their apparent authority over demonic entities. The more probable explanation was that the professor commanded respect through means other than raw power.


    The Spider Queen¡¯s appearance in the testing grounds felt like a piece of a larger puzzle. The spider they fought seemed to be a creation of that professor and they were probably testing it by sending it into this dungeon, but according to how the demon said that it was not perfect, it seemed that their test had failed, probably because it was defeated. If Ambrose had to guess, the spider was sent here to destroy the cadets since they would be the future heroes, what better way to test a demonic creation than against humanity¡¯s rising defenders?


    The demon¡¯s intervention when Hualing was about to destroy the Spider Queen was particularly telling. Why would the professor care about such a weak creature when he could already command such a strong demon? He didn¡¯t believe that the professor was worried about his creations, and even if that was the case, why would he send such a strong person just to retrieve it, couldn¡¯t he have just sent an errand boy. The only possible explanation was that the creature housed something valuable ¨C perhaps a kind of precious demonic core. That could also explain its endless reproduction. This led to an even more intriguing conclusion about the professor¡¯s role.


    Given the complexity of these experiments and the professor¡¯s apparent authority over powerful demons without being controlled by them, they likely answered to an even higher power. Ambrose¡¯s smile widened as the final piece clicked into place ¨C the professor was almost certainly a cultist.


    He constructed a likely scenario: A brilliant but controversial academic, expelled for experimenting with forbidden tools, likely fled with a powerful relic. The demons, recognizing the artifact¡¯s true nature as the core of a demon god, struck a bargain ¨C they would fund the research while the professor worked to restore their master, the demon god.


    And seeing as the demon¡¯s name was "Sin of..." even without the rest, he could guess that there were seven of these demons following the professor, and each of them were named after a cardinal sin. Ambrose dubbed them the "Seven Sins," they were probably ancient demons whose agenda differed from the current demon king¡¯s. Their goal: reviving their true master, the demon god.


    His gaze returned to Meihua¡¯s unconscious form as another revelation struck him. They must¡¯ve received some sort of prophecy or something similar, Meihua is probably compatible with the core and thus they are preparing her to be the demon god¡¯s host. The demon¡¯s words about accelerating their plans due to her "awakening" implied they stood to benefit from her growing power. Each step in her development likely brought them closer to reviving their demon god. The Spider Queen attack suddenly made perfect sense ¨C crisis often triggered awakening, the demons must¡¯ve planned to use the spider as a means to stimulate Meihua into awakening. As for any casualties among the other students it would have been mere collateral damage.


    One question remained: How had such a powerful demon circumvented the dungeon¡¯s defensive mechanisms? These dungeons typically restricted entry to beings no more than two ranks above their rating. A D-rank dungeon, for instance, would only admit up to B-rank entities. The only logical conclusion was that the demon had somehow utilized the demon god¡¯s power to bypass these restrictions.


    Ambrose let out a weary sigh as he realized they had likely encountered Meihua¡¯s primary antagonist. With Marcus being a regressor, he presumably knew his own nemesis, leaving only Ambrose¡¯s ultimate opponent unknown. Yet this uncertainty didn¡¯t trouble him unduly. After all, he had navigated this crisis successfully ¨C whatever came next, he would find a way to cope, just as he had done here.


    A/N - I apologize if this feels all over the place, it¡¯s my first time writing a thousand words of just a single character¡¯s thought process. I just thought that I¡¯d dedicate a chapter to the MC since he isn¡¯t getting any screen time. (Disclaimer: Ambrose¡¯s thoughts are not a reflection of the authors thoughts, he¡¯s just making an hypothesis which may or may not be true)

 Chapter 45: Revival

    Ambrose ceased his vigilant scanning of the surroundings, instead turning his focus inward to sense Hualing¡¯s presence through their newfound connection. The sounds of approaching rescuers filtered through the forest, their worried conversations carrying on the wind. From their scattered discussions, he quickly pieced together the situation ¨C the test had devolved into complete chaos, with a fight breaking out even outside the academy. And now the academy had finally dispatched a rescue team in response.


    Time was of the essence. Although no one would dare openly question the Rothschild family¡¯s authority, Ambrose knew better than to underestimate human greed. The ability to resurrect the dead would draw dangerous attention, regardless of his family name. From the rescuer¡¯s conversations, he realized that the connection with the outside world had been cut off as soon as they went in. This moment ¨C isolated from the outside world, his companions unconscious ¨C presented the perfect opportunity to bring Hualing back. While he could technically perform the resurrection later at his estate, explaining her sudden reappearance after being reported dead in the dungeon would raise too many questions.


    Without further hesitation, he activated the ability:


    [Blood Revival](SSS) - The ultimate expression of the lord¡¯s commitment to their knight. Should the Blood Knight fall in battle, the lord can revive them by offering their own blood as sacrifice. The revival requires a significant amount of the lord¡¯s blood (approximately 30% of their total blood volume) and leaves the lord severely weakened for several days. However, the revival is guaranteed as long as the lord lives and has sufficient blood to offer. This ability can only be used once per month due to its severe toll on the lord¡¯s body. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Reading through the skill¡¯s description, Ambrose realized his earlier assumptions had been na?ve. Despite its SSS rank, the ability came with severe limitations. Sacrificing 30% of his blood volume was far from sustainable, and the monthly cooldown period made it far from the endless revival system he¡¯d initially imagined. Perhaps the ability would evolve as Hualing grew more proficient with her skills? He briefly wondered whether improvement would come from her understanding or if he needed to develop his "lord¡¯s half" of the covenant, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. The approaching rescue team left no time for theoretical musings.


    As he activated the ability, nothing happened at first. Should he cut himself to initiate the blood offering? The thought made him uneasy ¨C with his weak constitution, any self-inflicted wound could prove dangerous. Although he didn¡¯t know how the system calculated HP, if he really¡­ Before he could pursue that line of thinking, his world suddenly tilted. His perspective shifted dramatically, and he found himself staring up at Marcus¡¯s unconscious face. "Eh?!"


    Confusion flooded his mind as he realized he was now lying flat on the ground. His attempts to rise proved futile, and worse, his consciousness began to slip away like water through cupped hands. This seemed far more severe than the expected 30% blood loss. Then clarity struck him with its last cruel insight ¨C he¡¯d already lost a significant amount of blood from the earlier impalement. Hualing¡¯s ability couldn¡¯t restore blood that was already gone; but that made sense, if she could just restore his blood and take it to boost her own power, that would have been too perfect, like a perpetual motion machine.


    "I¡¯m really cooked this time," was Ambrose¡¯s final thought as darkness claimed him, the price of resurrection proving steeper than he¡¯d anticipated.


    ¡­


    Deep within the forest, Astera led the academy¡¯s elite response team through the dense undergrowth. The sounds of distant combat had drawn them here, each step quickened by urgency. Her heart felt heavy with concern for Ambrose Rothschild - despite his family¡¯s prominence, his physical frailty was well-known. The memory of Victoria Rothschild¡¯s earlier expression sent a chill down her spine. If anything had happened to her son...


    As a member of House Frostweaver, one of the kingdom¡¯s ten great families, Astera understood the delicate power structure that underpinned the kingdom. While all ten great families held significant influence, there existed a clear hierarchy - the bottom five were merely "great families," while the top five were known as the "king families," each wielding power that rivaled the monarchy itself. And at the apex stood House Rothschild, although it looked as though they were close in power, the gap was so large it was practically impossible to bridge.


    Beside her, Celeste Whitehaven walked with hands clasped in prayer, though her thoughts were far from purely altruistic. She envisioned finding Ambrose slightly injured or shaken - just enough to make him receptive to spiritual guidance. That way, she would be able to introduce him to the way of the goddess and "save" him.


    If they had someone as influential as the Rothschild¡¯s heir as a believer, then the church would be able to expand into the kingdom even more. At that time, the Holy Theocracy would take its first steps towards uniting the world. Her lips moved in silent supplication, though whether to her goddess or her own ambitions remained unclear.1


    Meanwhile, in a small clearing ahead, Minghua knelt beside Ambrose¡¯s unconscious form, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. "So that¡¯s how death felt like" she thought as she remembered her earlier state ¨C the experience of death had been strange, a formless void where felt nothing, only her connection to Ambrose had anchored her to existence. She suspected most would have broken under that profound isolation.


    She then turned her attention back to Ambrose, though she (Hualing) had managed to heal his wounds, his blood loss remained a troubling issue. Her attempts to restore it had failed mysteriously - despite her ability to manipulate blood and convert it between types, something about Ambrose¡¯s physiology rejected her efforts. Was it the Will of the World intervening? Or perhaps some hidden aspect of his unique physique? The same physique that granted him that peculiar charm ability¡­1


    Speaking of which, Minghua realized she¡¯d been gazing at him for several minutes without experiencing its usual effects. Had their new blood covenant somehow granted her immunity? Before she could pursue that line of thought, her mind turned to the demon who had killed her. She recognized them from her previous life, though she hadn¡¯t expected them to appear so soo. No! Actually, she had somewhat expected it, after all, they had¡ª


    Her thoughts scattered as voices approached through the trees. Astera emerged into the clearing, her commanding presence drawing all eyes. "This is the place," she declared, scanning the area with sharp eyes. "Look for Ambrose Rothschild." The search team immediately spread out, their movements precise and practiced.


    A/N - Should we explore the holy theocracy first or the empire?


    A/N - Will of the World: I don¡¯t know how to introduce this naturally yet, just think of it as something that prevents cheats (like her giving Ambrose blood then Ambrose giving it to her making her stronger infinitely) is this considered a spoiler?

 Chapter 46: What Do I Say

    When Astera and her team finally broke through the dense forest into the clearing, they came to an abrupt halt. Before them stood an unexpected sight - a surprisingly well-constructed shelter that seemed entirely out of place in what was supposed to be a grueling entrance examination. The structure, while modest, displayed careful planning and solid execution.


    "There¡¯s actually such a building here?" Astera muttered, her eyebrows rising in surprise. Around her, the other team members exchanged confused glances. The infamous entrance exam of Crono Academy had always been known for its brutal nature - students fighting for survival against monsters and each other. Yet here was evidence of students apparently having enough leisure time to construct proper accommodations. Had the standards truly fallen so far over the years? S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    However, these thoughts quickly gave way to more pressing concerns as her eyes swept across the clearing. The scene before her was almost comically tragic - unconscious bodies scattered about like pieces on a poorly played chess board. One student slumped against a tree trunk, another sprawled several meters away, and two more collapsed on the opposite side of the clearing. The strange spacing between them raised questions, but there was no time to ponder the peculiar arrangement.


    "This is the place," Astera declared, her voice carrying the authority of her position. "Look for Ambrose Rothschild."


    Her elite team moved with practiced efficiency, spreading out across the clearing in a coordinated search pattern. Within seconds, one of her subordinates called out, "President! That one there seems to be Ambrose!" He pointed toward one of the unconscious forms.


    Astera pulled a photograph from her pocket, comparing the image to the unconscious youth. The match was undeniable, but something about the situation felt off. How had they all survived yet ended up unconscious? If a monster had attacked them, why leave them relatively unharmed? The scenario defied logical explanation. Had the monster eaten to its fill and thus left them here? But that didn¡¯t make sense.


    With a slight sigh, she gestured to Celeste. "See to their injuries."


    Celeste Whitehaven approached Ambrose with an almost reverent air, her hands clasped as if in prayer. As she reached out toward the unconscious heir, a hand shot out of nowhere, grasping her wrist in an iron grip.


    "Keep your hands to yourself, you damn cultist!" The voice was sharp, hostile. It was Minghua, she had hidden herself when she detected people approaching, preparing for a sneak attack. But it turned out it was just the kids from the academy.


    The sudden appearance of Minghua sent Astera¡¯s team into instant battle formation, their movements synchronized with practiced precision. Astera herself felt a chill run down her spine - she hadn¡¯t detected any presence, despite her B-rank capabilities. Even A-rank individuals couldn¡¯t typically evade her detection. Either this person possessed an extraordinary stealth talent, or...


    Celeste looked up at her captor, trying unsuccessfully to free her hand. "Who are you?" she demanded, maintaining her dignity despite the awkward position.


    "Don¡¯t put your dirty hands on the young master," Minghua growled, mimicking hualing, but it wasn¡¯t really mimicking, after all, they were the same person.


    Recognition dawned on Astera¡¯s face, and she quickly signaled her team to stand down. This must be one of the Rothschild family¡¯s personal knights - it wasn¡¯t uncommon for great houses to train young warriors and later assign them as academy escorts for their heirs. Although personal knights or guards were not generally allowed into the academy, it was a different thing if they came in as students. The monster¡¯s absence suddenly made sense - a Rothschild knight, even a young one, would have little trouble with a mere B-rank creature.


    "Don¡¯t misunderstand," Astera said, adopting a diplomatic smile. "We¡¯re here to help."


    But Minghua just looked at her, wondering if she had seen her somewhere before. She then released Celeste¡¯s wrist while maintaining an unwavering stare that clearly communicated there would be no negotiation regarding access to Ambrose. "You can help the others," she stated flatly, scooping up Ambrose in a princess carry before walking away. The rescue team parted before her like water around a stone.


    Astera watched them go, noting Celeste¡¯s obvious frustration with wry amusement. The church representative¡¯s attempt to curry favor had been painfully transparent - but then, the Rothschild family didn¡¯t survive and thrive by being easily manipulated.


    As Minghua carried Ambrose away, her thoughts turned darker. The cultist¡¯s healing abilities would have been useless anyway - Ambrose¡¯s condition stemmed not from injury but from blood loss, and not just any blood loss, but blood consumed by a skill, meaning there was no wound to heal. She needed to wait for her own healing ability¡¯s cooldown to end, though she wasn¡¯t certain it would even work in this situation. The thought of him dying upon her next revival, dragging her along into death due to their blood oath, spurred her to focus. With her extensive knowledge of blood manipulation, she didn¡¯t believe that she couldn¡¯t find a way to restore blood. There was definitely a solution - she just had to find it.


    ¡­


    High above the Crono Academy grounds, Friedrich Rothschild hovered motionless in the air, his golden eyes fixed on the scene unfolding below. Through the shimmering portal, he watched as Hualing emerged carrying his unconscious son, followed by the other students. Even from this distance, his enhanced vision could make out every detail of Ambrose¡¯s pale face.


    Relief washed over him as he confirmed his son¡¯s survival, but it quickly gave way to a deeper ache. His hand twitched with the urge to descend, to check on Ambrose personally. The instinct to protect, to be there for his child, warred with a gnawing sense of shame. After several tense moments, his fingers curled into tight fists, knuckles white with restraint. He forced himself to turn away, preparing to depart.


    "Leaving already?" The familiar voice of the Academy Principal cut through his thoughts. It wasn¡¯t weird for her to talk to the Rothschild¡¯s head in such a manner, after all, both of them were once classmates, together with Victoria. "Won¡¯t you go to say hi?"


    Friedrich kept his back to her, his voice tight with barely contained emotion. "And say what?"


    "Huh?" The confusion in her tone was evident.


    "And say what when he asks about his mother?" The words came out harsh, bitter. "Should I just say that I couldn¡¯t protect him and now I can¡¯t protect my wife too?" Without waiting for a response, he shot upward at incredible speed, vanishing into the distant sky with a thunderous crack of displaced air.


    The Principal remained floating in place, a sad smile playing across her features. "You still haven¡¯t changed," she murmured, before descending toward the dungeon entrance.


    As her feet touched the ground, her demeanor shifted to one of absolute authority. She addressed the gathered instructors with clear, commanding tones: "I want everyone to get to work! Use all means possible - I want to know exactly what we¡¯re dealing with here!" Something like this had just happened in the academy¡¯s entrance exam. As the principal, she had to find an explanation for the affected noble houses.

 Chapter 47: How Much?

    A/N - Lets give Adelaide some screen time.


    The afternoon sun filtered through the study¡¯s tall windows, casting long shadows across the ornate furniture within. Three days had passed since the infamous dungeon test at Crono Academy, and now Maximilian Brightwell found himself facing an unexpected confrontation in his own sanctuary.


    "What did you just say?" Maximilian¡¯s palm struck his mahogany desk with enough force to rattle the expensive tea service, his face contorted with a mixture of shock and anger as he stared up at his daughter.


    Adelaide sat across from him, the picture of composure as she delicately raised her teacup. "I said I¡¯ll be renaming my company to ¡¯RAT Co.¡¯ and separating from the Golden Compass Trading Company, effective immediately." She took a measured sip, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to her father¡¯s agitation.


    Studying her father¡¯s angry expression, Adelaide understood his reaction perfectly. Maximilian had always despised noble sycophants, having built his commercial empire from nothing but street smarts and determination. Rumors even suggested he¡¯d rejected a noble title, wanting nothing to do with their world of privilege and pretense. Now here sat his daughter ¨C the one child he¡¯d thought shared his values ¨C announcing her allegiance to the very class he despised.


    "How much?" Maximilian¡¯s voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.


    "Huh?" Adelaide¡¯s brow furrowed in genuine confusion.


    "I mean how much ¨C how much did they offer you?" The words came through gritted teeth.


    "Oh, that..." A small smile played across her lips. "Nothing. It was my choice."


    Maximilian recoiled as if struck. He knew his daughter ¨C or at least, he¡¯d thought he did. Adelaide was supposed to be like him: calculating, practical, driven by results and profit margins. When he¡¯d first heard whispers of her pledging herself to some noble, he¡¯d assumed there must have been substantial compensation involved. But nothing? By choice?


    A horrifying thought struck him. Could his practical, business-minded daughter have fallen victim to some nobleman¡¯s empty promises? Had she bought into those ridiculous fairy tales about love crossing class boundaries? S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Who is it?" The question came out strained, dreading the answer.


    "Ambrose Rothschild."


    The name hit Maximilian like a physical blow. His mind scrambled desperately, searching for any other Rothschild family in the kingdom, any possibility that this wasn¡¯t what he feared. His hands trembled as he tried to speak, but Adelaide cut him off.


    "Yes, it¡¯s that same Rothschild."


    Maximilian collapsed back into his chair, wondering what sins from a past life had earned him this karma. Through his extensive network of connections, he knew about the recent battle at the academy ¨C how the infamous Mad Star had single-handedly defeated the heads of the ten great noble houses, ready to end the world itself over her missing son. And now his daughter had somehow entangled herself with this very same child? Years of careful business building would crumble to dust if the Rothschilds took it as his daughter seducing their heir.


    Seeing the panic in her father¡¯s eyes, Adelaide quickly waved her hand. "It¡¯s not what you think," she said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I¡¯m just a subordinate. I simply swore loyalty to Ambrose." She turned her head slightly, her voice dropping to barely a whisper, "In exchange for protection."


    "Protection from what?" Maximilian¡¯s question hung heavy in the air.


    Instead of answering, Adelaide rose from her seat. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. You can tell your sons that I¡¯m not interested in the inheritance anymore. They can kill each other for it for all I care. I¡¯ll get going now." She strode from the room before he could respond, leaving only the echo of her footsteps and the weight of her words behind.


    Maximilian remained motionless in his chair, the implications of her words sinking in like poison. His mind drifted back to his own youth, back then, he had no siblings to compete with for inheritance ¨C not that there had been anything to inherit. He¡¯d sworn then that his own children would never know such poverty, that they would enjoy the wealth he¡¯d create.


    But somewhere along the way, he¡¯d lost sight of what truly mattered. While he¡¯d provided money in abundance, he¡¯d never truly been there for his children. His pursuit of ever-greater wealth had consumed him, leaving his family to fend for themselves. He¡¯d dismissed the tensions between his children as normal sibling rivalry, refusing to see the darker currents beneath the surface.


    Now, hearing Adelaide speak of needing protection ¨C from her own brothers, no less ¨C Maximilian felt the full weight of his failures crash down upon him. When had it all gone so wrong? When had his dream of providing for his family twisted into this nightmare of greed and betrayal?


    He reached for the crystal decanter on his desk, pouring himself a generous measure of amber liquid as the afternoon sun continued its relentless march across the sky, casting longer and darker shadows with each passing moment.


    ¡­


    In a vast, opulent hall adorned with gilded decorations and expensive artwork, Sebastian Brightwell lounged on what could only be described as a makeshift throne - an ornate chair that spoke more of pretension than true nobility. The eldest son of Maximilian Brightwell sat there, bare chested with only shorts on, a crystal wine glass dangling carelessly from his fingers as attendants catered to his every whim.


    Women surrounded him, some massaging his shoulders while others offered carefully peeled fruits. Scattered across the marble floor lay more women, their vacant expressions and unnatural movements suggesting they¡¯d been drugged or enchanted. The scene resembled a twisted parody of noble luxury, revealing Sebastian¡¯s desperate attempts to mimic the lifestyle he coveted.


    A satisfied smirk played across his features as he accepted a grape, his thoughts turning to his perceived status. What nobles? Who needs a title when they¡¯re practically begging to give their daughters to me? Once I become the heir...


    His expression suddenly soured, pleasure giving way to rage as his mind turned to recent events. That sister of his, Adelaide, had somehow slipped through his carefully laid trap. Reports indicated she¡¯d been seen disembarking from a Rothschild carriage, of all things. Somehow, she¡¯d discovered his ambush and managed to secure protection from the kingdom¡¯s most powerful family.


    Fury overtook him, and the wine glass shattered in his grip. Red liquid dripped down his hand like blood, matching the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Not only had his sister escaped making him lose the money he¡¯d used to pay the assassins, but now the assassins¡¯ guild was demanding additional compensation for their failed operation. The whole scheme had backfired spectacularly, costing him both money and face.


    Sebastian¡¯s rage quickly transformed into something more sinister as he gazed at one of the incapacitated women on the floor. He pressed his foot against her shoulder, commanding her to clean the spilled wine. The woman moved with unnatural sluggishness, her actions mechanical and void of will.


    As he watched her degradation with cruel amusement, his thoughts turned back to Adelaide. Always acting so superior, father¡¯s precious daughter. Just you wait, when I capture you, you¡¯ll be the one kneeling here. His laughter echoed through the hall, a sound devoid of any real mirth, reflecting only the darkness in his soul.

 Chapter 48: Lets Catch Up

    Theodore Brightwell stood motionless at his bedroom window, his posture rigid with anticipation. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured estate grounds, but his eyes weren¡¯t focused on the pristine gardens or elegant fountains. Instead, they tracked the approach of a tiny speck in the distance ¨C a carrier pigeon winging its way directly toward him.


    With practiced grace, he extended his arm. The bird alighted on his sleeve with barely a rustle of feathers, its small claws gripping the expensive fabric. Theodore¡¯s movements were deliberate as he retrieved the message from its carrier, his expression betraying nothing. Only after the pigeon had taken flight did he turn from the window, unfolding the paper with careful precision.


    A cold smile spread across his features as he absorbed the letter¡¯s contents. Without hesitation, he channeled his power, allowing flames to spark from his fingertips. The paper blackened and curled, reduced to nothing but gray ash that filtered through his fingers like dark snow. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It seems I should pay my brother a visit," he mused aloud, his pleasant tone at odds with the calculating gleam in his eyes. "After all, a good younger brother should always take care of his elder brother." The words dripped with hidden meaning, though his face maintained its mask of innocence.


    The walk through the family estate took mere minutes, each step measured and unhurried. Though guards were posted at regular intervals along Sebastian¡¯s portion of the property, they parted before Theodore without question. Their automatic deference spoke volumes about the frequency of his visits.


    The moment Theodore slid open the door to Sebastian¡¯s quarters, a wave of sickly-sweet air assaulted his senses. He smoothly produced a handkerchief, pressing it to his nose to filter out the drug-laden atmosphere that hung thick as fog throughout the room. The scene before him was decadent in the worst way ¨C his elder brother sprawled across an ornate chair while attendants fawned over him, their movements unnaturally slow and vacant.


    "Oh! Look who has finally remembered his elder brother!" Sebastian¡¯s voice carried a note of artificial cheer.


    Theodore dipped into a slight bow, his smile never wavering. "You must be joking. How could I forget my elder brother? I was just looking for a good gift to bring."


    Sebastian¡¯s face lit up with perverse excitement. He practically leaped from his chair, throwing an arm around Theodore¡¯s shoulders with exaggerated affection. "I was just joking, no need to be so serious!" His laughter held an edge of mania. "What did my younger brother bring me this time? One from the empire? A beast girl? Or maybe a nun from the holy church?"


    "No, it¡¯s not that this time around," Theodore replied, watching his brother¡¯s expression fall before adding, "But what I brought is even more valuable." His pointed gaze caught Sebastian¡¯s attention, cutting through the older man¡¯s drug-induced haze.


    Sebastian¡¯s demeanor shifted instantly, previous joviality replaced by sharp focus. "Follow me," he commanded, leading the way to his private chamber. Once inside, he rounded on Theodore. "Stop beating around the bush! What is it?"


    "It¡¯s information. Information on Adelaide," Theodore revealed. "She was seen leaving father¡¯s office this afternoon. If you go now, you should be able to catch up before she reaches the academy."


    Sebastian¡¯s laughter boomed through the room. "This is indeed a good gift!" He clapped Theodore¡¯s back with enough force to make a lesser man stumble. "When I become the head, I¡¯ll definitely not let you lose out."


    Theodore maintained his pleasant smile even as disgust roiled in his gut. What family head? he thought. Why don¡¯t we see if you can survive first? Outwardly, he remained the perfect picture of a grateful younger brother. "Thanks, brother."


    But Sebastian wasn¡¯t finished. He caught Theodore before he could complete another bow. "We are all brothers, no need for that," he declared. "Instead, I want you to come with me when we capture her. It¡¯d be a waste to miss such a scene. When all her arrogance collapses and she begs for mercy... hehehe!"


    Theodore¡¯s surprise wasn¡¯t entirely feigned. This development suggested his brother wasn¡¯t quite as addled as he appeared ¨C insisting on Theodore¡¯s company revealed a level of suspicion he hadn¡¯t anticipated. Refusing now would only raise more red flags.


    "I¡¯ll listen to what you say," Theodore acquiesced smoothly. As Sebastian¡¯s satisfied laughter filled the room, Theodore¡¯s mind was already racing ahead. Let¡¯s just go along with it. I expected such a development anyway. His thoughts remained carefully hidden behind his mask of brotherly devotion, even as he began calculating his next move in this deadly game of family politics.


    ¡­


    Adelaide sat in her elegantly appointed carriage, surrounded by stacks of meticulously organized documents. Her pen moved across the papers with practiced efficiency as she reviewed contracts, reports, and correspondence from her rapidly expanding network of informants. The gentle swaying of the carriage barely registered as she immersed herself in her work.


    Three days had passed since the catastrophic events of the academy entrance exam. The incident had forced Crono Academy to temporarily suspend all activities, citing the need for both investigation and reconstruction. During this time, Ambrose had remained unconscious, with Hualing maintaining an almost fanatical vigil over him. Adelaide¡¯s brow furrowed as she recalled how the maid had even turned away medical professionals, refusing their assistance with an intensity that bordered on madness.


    Something about Hualing had changed since that day. Though she still exhibited her usual personality, there was a subtle difference that Adelaide couldn¡¯t quite pin down. It was as if someone had taken a familiar painting and altered just a few brushstrokes ¨C the overall image remained the same, but something felt off. Perhaps the trauma of the incident has made her paranoid, Adelaide mused, before dismissing the thought. It wasn¡¯t her primary concern.


    Instead, she focused on her own role and contributions. The memory of her helplessness during the crisis still stung ¨C watching as others demonstrated their exceptional abilities while she stood powerless on the sidelines. Marcus with his genius swordsmanship, Meihua wielding her mythical-ranked talent, and Hualing... Adelaide shook her head slightly. Hualing was already a monster before, and now she had awakened a talent of undisclosed rank, rocketing to nearly B-rank power.


    But Adelaide refused to let this disparity in combat ability discourage her. Let them have their battles, she thought determinedly. This is my domain. She was building something far more subtle but equally valuable ¨C a network of information and influence that would prove indispensable to Ambrose¡¯s future plans. By the time he regained consciousness, she would have something worthy to present to him, something that would prove her value beyond any doubt.


    The carriage lurched to an abrupt halt, violently interrupting her thoughts. Before she could call out to her driver, a panicked voice rang out from outside.


    "We are under attack! Ru¡ª" The guard¡¯s warning cut off in a wet gurgle.


    Adelaide¡¯s eyes widened in horror as crimson spray painted her carriage window. Through the bloody mist, she watched helplessly as a sword blade retracted from her guard¡¯s chest, his body crumpling like a discarded puppet. A familiar figure stepped into view, casually tossing the guard¡¯s corpse aside.


    "Hello there, sister." Sebastian¡¯s voice carried a twisted warmth that made her blood run cold. "Your elder brother has really missed you. Why don¡¯t you get off and we can catch up?"

 Chapter 49: Demonoid

    The tension inside the carriage was palpable as Sebastian¡¯s chilling voice cut through the air. "Hello there, sister. Your elder brother has really missed you. Why don¡¯t you get off and we can catch up?" The casual way he tossed aside the guard¡¯s lifeless body belied the menace in his words.


    But Adelaide¡¯s response wasn¡¯t quite what he had expected. Instead of panic or fear, a calm smile graced her features. "We should catch up indeed! Why don¡¯t you get in so we can talk?" she offered, her composure unwavering. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sebastian hesitated, studying her with suspicious eyes. This wasn¡¯t how he¡¯d imagined this confrontation would play out. Was she hiding something? Planning some sort of trap? Or was she just bluffing? He wondered. After a moment¡¯s consideration, he dismissed his concerns. No matter, she¡¯s already surrounded so what could she possibly do? he reasoned, climbing into the carriage and settling himself opposite Adelaide.


    What happened next gave even Adelaide pause ¨C Theodore, their younger brother, followed Sebastian into the carriage, taking a seat beside him. Adelaide couldn¡¯t quite hide her surprise at this development. While she¡¯d anticipated the possibility of an attack on her journey back, She hadn¡¯t expected Theodore to be involved as well. Unlike Sebastian, whose character she could read like an open book, Theodore had always been an enigma to her.


    The outside world saw him as merely an intelligent youth currying favor with his elder brother in hopes of securing his position when the heir was chosen, but Adelaide had always sensed something more beneath that facade. There was a complexity to Theodore that made him far more dangerous than Sebastian in her estimation.


    For now, though, Theodore maintained his timid appearance, sitting close to Sebastian and avoiding direct eye contact with Adelaide. She let out a quiet sigh and redirected her attention to Sebastian.


    "I¡¯m sorry for not coming to visit you, elder brother," Adelaide said, her tone deliberately lacking any trace of genuine respect. "It¡¯s just that my master asked me to hurry, you see. My master is very sensitive to time, so I won¡¯t be able to entertain you as much as I¡¯d like to." She emphasized the word ¡¯sensitive¡¯ with careful deliberation. "How about we part ways here since we have already seen each other? I¡¯ll make sure to make another trip after I¡¯ve delivered the goods to my master."


    Sebastian¡¯s eyes narrowed as he processed her words, while Theodore remained seemingly oblivious to the exchange. Sebastian wasn¡¯t fooled by her ploy ¨C she was making it too obvious, by mentioning her master¡¯s sensitivity to time, she was clearly threatening him, implying consequences should she fail to return on schedule. As if I would fall for such a transparent attempt at manipulation, he thought dismissively.


    "After just spending a few days, you already call him ¡¯master¡¯ so intimately. I¡¯m moved," Sebastian¡¯s sarcasm dripped like poison. "Cut the bullshit, you slut. Do you think that just because he let you ride in his carriage once, he now considers you his? Do you really think that the heir of Rothschild cares about the daughter of a commoner?" His expression twisted into something perverse as he added, "Or maybe you¡¯ve given yourself to him already?"1


    Adelaide¡¯s response was simply to regard him with pity. "What do you know? Anyway, I¡¯m in a hurry ¨C can you guys leave now?"


    "Leave?" Sebastian scoffed. "You and I both know that¡¯s not going to happen, so why don¡¯t we cut the small talk and talk like adults?"


    "I¡¯ve already told father that I will be withdrawing from the inheritance," Adelaide stated matter-of-factly. "You can leave now."


    "What?" Sebastian¡¯s surprise was genuine, and even Theodore broke his affected indifference to stare at Adelaide in shock. Theodore had known that she had some sort of connection with the Rothschild heir, but this level of commitment ¨C abandoning her inheritance entirely ¨C suggested a far deeper relationship than he¡¯d anticipated. Knowing Adelaide, she wouldn¡¯t simply abandon her position that she¡¯d worked so hard for just for a pipe dream of being the Rothschild heir¡¯s mistress. This meant that whatever she was getting was definitely of higher value than the inheritance. His mental calculations began adjusting ¨C he would need to accelerate his plans, if he didn¡¯t do it soon, he¡¯d be the one getting the shorter end of the stick.1


    "Wh¨Cwhat are you talking about¡­" Before Sebastian could form a coherent response, Adelaide thrust a stack of papers at his face. As he caught and began reading them, his expression cycled through increasing levels of shock. The documents were legitimate ¨C she had not only separated her company from the Golden Compass Trading Company but had even renamed it. Theodore¡¯s carefully maintained facade cracked further as he too examined the documents with evident surprise.


    Sebastian felt his throat constrict as he processed the implications. These documents were real ¨C he had effectively won, becoming the heir he¡¯d always wanted to be. He could have all that wealth he¡¯d dreamed about now, but, he couldn¡¯t just back down now could he? No! not after investing so much in thin, even if the documents were real, he didn¡¯t want to let go. Even though he won, he still felt the same, he looked at Adelaide and could instantly tell from her look that she was looking down on him. Her gaze only fueled his rage ¨C she wasn¡¯t making a sacrifice, she was discarding something she no longer needed for something far greater. Dammit! Then didn¡¯t that mean that he was actually picking up what she dropped, just like before, nothing had changed.


    In Sebastian¡¯s mind, a vivid metaphor took shape: He saw himself crawling through a scorching desert, desperately drinking from a small stream to survive. But when he looked up, he saw Adelaide perched on a throne at the river¡¯s source, casually dipping her feet in the abundant water. The disparity felt unbearable. They were both commoners, both children of the same father ¨C so why did such an insurmountable gap exist between them? He was the firstborn, damn it! Why was she always so far ahead?


    The pressure of these thoughts built up inside Sebastian until something just snapped, something inside of him. He didn¡¯t care anymore. He didn¡¯t care about being better than Adelaide, he didn¡¯t care about being the heir. He didn¡¯t care if he lived. He didn¡¯t care about anything! And then.. It happened.. His eyes blazed a deep crimson as grey began spreading across his skin like a plague, until his entire body had taken on an ashen hue.1


    A/N - even villains doing spins on that rothschild name frfr


    A/N - I kinda like this character


    A/N - Okay, I agree that my earlier jokes were kinda forced but THIS!!! Are you kidding me? It was practically meant to be!

 Chapter 50: Your Life Has Ended

    Adelaide stared at her brother, horror and disgust warring on her face as she took in his transformed appearance. The grey skin spreading across his body like a disease, those crimson eyes blazing with inhuman malice ¨C it was the unmistakable mark of a demonoid. She had known Sebastian was capable of deplorable things, but this? This went beyond mere moral bankruptcy into the realm of absolute taboo.


    In their world, those desperate for power had many paths available to them. Some devoted themselves to rigorous training, others sought ancient artifacts or rare enlightenment. But borrowing power from demons? That was universally acknowledged as the lowest, most despicable route. Not only was it a shortcut that corrupted both body and soul, but it was also seen as the ultimate betrayal of humanity. Demons were mankind¡¯s greatest enemy ¨C to willingly take their power was to turn one¡¯s back on their entire species.


    "You actually made a contract with a demon?" Adelaide¡¯s voice carried equal parts disbelief and revulsion.


    "And what if I did?" Sebastian snarled, his new demonic features twisting his expression into something monstrous. "You always think of yourself as above everyone else! Always getting in my way! Where is that arrogance now?" S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Adelaide could only shake her head in disappointment. When had she ever looked down on others? The irony was that Sebastian¡¯s own inferiority complex had created this narrative in his mind. No matter what one did, people would always interpret actions through the lens of their own insecurities.1


    She turned to Theodore, who had maintained an unnaturally still posture throughout this revelation. "Is this the person you put your trust in? He can even make a contract with a demon ¨C do you believe he can give you what he promised you?"


    Sebastian¡¯s laughter cut through the tension like a rusty blade. He gripped Theodore¡¯s shoulder with possessive force, his grey fingers digging in just shy of drawing blood. "Are you trying to drive a wedge between us? You still trust me, right Theodore?"


    The question came out more like a threat than an inquiry. Theodore responded with a quick nod, causing Sebastian to laugh with theatrical enthusiasm. "Good. Good. Good," he repeated, before fixing Adelaide with a triumphant glare. "You were saying? We have such great brotherly love ¨C do you think he¡¯ll betray me just because of your words? Unlike you, Theodore knows how to value family."


    Says the person about to murder his own sister, Adelaide thought wryly. And what brotherly love? You¡¯re practically threatening him. But she kept these observations to herself, instead shaking her head with exaggerated pity. "You¡¯re really stupid. I even gave up on the inheritance, yet you¡¯re still hung up on me. This was why father didn¡¯t choose you as the heir."


    "What did you just say?" The words acted like a match to gunpowder. Sebastian¡¯s body tensed, ready to launch into violence.


    "Wait! Wait! Wait!" Adelaide raised her hands in a placating gesture, and surprisingly, Sebastian actually hesitated. "What are you going to do after you kill me?"


    "What do you mean?" His impatience was palpable.


    "You¡¯ve already exposed yourself as a demon," she explained with clinical precision. "Do you think you can just go back to your normal life? In short, your life has basically ended. You will no longer even have your mansion, you will have no money, and everyone who sees you will be out to kill you. Even those women whom you love so much wont want anything to do with you" She delivered this devastating assessment with a smile.


    His menacing glare only prompted her to raise her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don¡¯t look at me like that. I wasn¡¯t the one who told you to sign a contract with a demon. I was just a good sister who gave up the inheritance for her stupid elder brother. No need to thank me for that, by the way," she added with biting sarcasm.


    Sebastian¡¯s rage continued to build visibly, like a pressure cooker about to explode. But Adelaide, perhaps unwisely, pressed on. "It¡¯s okay though. Even though you are ready to kill me, as a good little sister, I can¡¯t help but pity you. I just received a new estate from my master, and we happen to need a guard dog." She made a show of looking him up and down. "From your current look, I¡¯m confident you¡¯d easily pass for a dog."


    Steam practically rose from Sebastian¡¯s grey skin, but Adelaide maintained her "kind" smile. "Hey, no need to be so angry. I¡¯m doing you a favor here. In the Rothschild household, a dog probably lives even better than you do. So why don¡¯t you..."


    "Damn you! You¡¯re still looking down on me!" Sebastian¡¯s demonic aura exploded outward, his body expanding until it burst through the carriage walls, leaving them exposed to the evening air. With a bestial roar, he launched himself at Adelaide, his fist cocked back for a killing blow.


    Adelaide watched the approaching fist with surprising calm. I¡¯ve really tried all that I could. I hope you don¡¯t let me down, she thought. Just before impact, a blur of motion intercepted Sebastian¡¯s attack. A powerful kick caught him in the side, sending his massive form crashing through several nearby carriages in an explosion of splintered wood and dust.


    Marcus materialized beside Adelaide, his signature sword at his waist. "You¡¯ve done enough. Leave the rest to me," he stated simply.


    "Thanks." Adelaide didn¡¯t hesitate to back away from the impending battle. She might have put on a brave face, but she was ultimately just a merchant¡¯s daughter with no combat ability. Simply keeping Sebastian distracted long enough for Marcus to deal with his subordinates had left her mentally exhausted. Now all she could do was hope that the warrior who had caught her master¡¯s interest was at least strong enough to handle a super enraged C-rank demonoid.


    A/N - People keep telling me that the MC is always sleeping somewhere, idk why y¡¯all want to see him so much, there isn¡¯t much he can do at the moment so it¡¯d just be boring. Anyway, I¡¯ll do a chapter on Marcus tomorrow and another one on Theodore since he seems interesting. Then we¡¯ll go back to the MC and continue surviving the magic academy with just intelligence stats.


    A/N - True

 Chapter 51: Seen A Ghost

    The setting sun painted the practice grounds in hues of amber and gold, its dying light casting long shadows across the worn earth. Marcus stood alone in this fading day, his sword moving through the air with methodical precision. There was nothing flashy about his movements ¨C no elaborate footwork, no dramatic flourishes. Just a single, forward swing repeated with unwavering dedication.


    His form was beyond mere perfection; it spoke of something deeper. Each swing carried the weight of countless repetitions, like a monk who had spent decades perfecting a single prayer. The blade cut through the air with such natural grace that it seemed an extension of his very being, the movement so pure it appeared almost meditative.


    After what felt like hours, Marcus finally lowered his sword, his breathing steady despite the extended practice. "It¡¯s still not enough," he muttered, frustration etching lines across his face. His mind wandered back to his encounters with the Flame Serpent, both defeats burning in his memory with crystal clarity.


    The first loss, he could rationalize. He had been young, poor, untrained ¨C a different person in a different life. But the second? Even armed with a mythical-ranked sword technique and years of experience, the outcome remained unchanged. The parallel failures gnawed at him, raising uncomfortable questions about his fundamental understanding of swordsmanship.


    If advanced techniques made no appreciable difference in his performance, what did that say about his supposed genius with the sword? The thought prompted a bitter laugh. "I spoke about not relying on others," he mused aloud, "yet here I was, still clinging to techniques created by other people."


    A new resolve crystallized in his mind ¨C he would strip away all the elaborate movements, all the borrowed wisdom. His path forward would be his own, focused on the fundamental truth of swordsmanship: If the techniques made no difference when he was or wasn¡¯t using them, then they were simply a distraction, he would focus solely on swinging his sword, perfecting his form. Although His form was already perfect, he didn¡¯t want it to be just perfect, he wanted it to be even better than perfect. No flashy movements, no complicated techniques, just a man with a sword, and when he swung his sword, he didn¡¯t want to focus on anything else, just the contact between his blade and his opponent. 1


    As this revelation settled over him, a familiar warmth bloomed in his core. His talent, responding to this shift in perspective, stirred with the promise of growth. The sensation brought a smile to his face ¨C his instincts were right. This was the path forward, and as long as he stayed true to it, it wouldn¡¯t be long before his top level sword intent talent transformed into¡ª


    The thought cut off abruptly as his eyes widened in horror. Marcus collapsed to his knees, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he grappled with a terrifying realization. "I can¡¯t remember! I don¡¯t remember! What is it? What did my talent transform into?" The name of his transformed talent ¨C the pinnacle he had once reached ¨C was gone, vanished like morning mist from his memory.


    Questions and implications cascaded through his mind. Could a stolen talent truly echo across time itself? Had he lost not just his power but even the possibility of reclaiming it? The Spirit King¡¯s second chance suddenly felt hollow ¨C what good was returning to the past if he couldn¡¯t recapture what made him special?


    His carefully accumulated techniques didn¡¯t seem all that useful, the world was deviating from his accumulated knowledge faster than he could keep up. And now, he had no chance to upgrade his talent.


    Just as despair threatened to overwhelm him, a gentle pressure on his back anchored him to the present.


    "Are you okay?" Adelaide¡¯s concerned voice cut through his spiral of dark thoughts. She stood beside him, her hand resting supportively on his back. "You looked as though you¡¯d seen a ghost."


    ¡­


    Adelaide made her way toward the training grounds, her footsteps purposeful. She knew exactly where to find Marcus ¨C he¡¯d barely left the place in the past two days since their return from the examination dungeon. The arrangement at the estate had been straightforward enough; Ambrose had already established it as one of the benefits of party membership. Yet Adelaide couldn¡¯t help but find herself intrigued by their newest residents.


    Both Marcus and Meihua had defied her expectations of how commoners typically behaved when suddenly thrust into luxury. When she¡¯d offered to show them around the sprawling grounds, their responses had been almost dismissive ¨C Meihua claiming she needed to study, while Marcus had simply headed straight for the training area. Their singular focus was both impressive and slightly unnerving.


    The master certainly has an eye for... unique individuals, Adelaide mused as she walked. Their dedication to self-improvement was infectious; watching them work so diligently had only strengthened her own resolve to push harder. However, her path forward required venturing beyond the academy¡¯s protective walls ¨C a prospect that carried its own risks.


    She knew her brothers would be watching, waiting for any opportunity to strike. The moment she left the academy¡¯s grounds, they would surely make their move. This reality had led her to seek out Marcus. Despite his loss in the dungeon, she¡¯d witnessed enough of his fighting prowess to know he¡¯d be more reliable than any mercenary she could hire at present.


    Her choice had been largely practical. Meihua, despite her talents, was physically weaker than Adelaide herself. Hualing had been acting strange ever since the examination, her behavior becoming increasingly unsettling. That left Marcus as her only viable option for protection.


    Her immediate goal was clear ¨C she needed to visit her father to formally separate her company from the Golden Compass Trading Company and withdraw from the inheritance race. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on her; as one of the first subordinates of the Rothschild heir, maintaining connections to her family¡¯s trading company had become more liability than asset.


    How strange, she reflected, that everything I¡¯ve worked for my entire life could become obsolete in less than two weeks. Yet Adelaide wasn¡¯t one for emotional attachment to sunk costs. She approached everything like a ledger ¨C losses were simply expenses to be balanced against future gains. And in this case, the potential returns far outweighed any sacrifices.


    When she finally reached the training ground, she found Marcus mid-practice and decided to observe rather than interrupt. However, she¡¯d miscalculated ¨C his training showed no signs of stopping. She stood there, weighing her options as she watched him repeat the same swing over and over with mechanical precision. Just as she was considering whether she might need to wait another full day, he suddenly stopped.


    Adelaide noticed a smile spread across his face and took it as her cue to approach. But before she could take two steps, she witnessed something unsettling ¨C his expression transformed from joy to absolute despair in the span of heartbeats. The dramatic shift gave her pause.


    This man¡¯s emotional stability is concerning, she thought, recalling his behavior in the dungeon. The way he¡¯d swung from declaring I want to fight solo to admitting I can¡¯t do anything by myself reminded her of those poorly written protagonists in romantic novels. The kind where the hero¡¯s personality seemed to change with every chapter.


    Pushing aside her reservations, she approached and gently tapped his back. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuine concern coloring her voice despite her earlier skepticism. "You looked as though you¡¯d seen a ghost." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A/N - Idk if it came out well but essentially, he just wants to focus on landing real blows rather than having fancy moves. (Since this is the OG mc, he will be like the clich¨¦ transmigration/regression mc - I might nerf his intelligence somewhat since all I know are braindead)

 Chapter 52: Dark Fragment

    Adelaide¡¯s concerned voice cut through Marcus¡¯s dark spiral. "Are you okay?" she asked, her hand resting gently on his back. "You looked as though you¡¯d seen a ghost."


    Marcus started at her touch, his warrior¡¯s instincts screaming at how completely he¡¯d dropped his guard. He hadn¡¯t even sensed her approach ¨C a sobering reminder of how deeply he¡¯d been lost in his own thoughts. "It¡¯s okay. It¡¯s nothing," he responded, quickly reconstructing his composed facade.


    Adelaide studied his sudden shift in demeanor with fascination. The speed at which he could switch between emotional extremes was really like of those dramatic protagonists in fantasy novels. It was almost unsettling how quickly he could bury such obvious distress beneath a mask of calm.


    A thought struck her then ¨C she¡¯d observed how Ambrose handled Marcus earlier, how he seemed to respond best to direct encouragement. Perhaps she could employ a similar approach. "Marcus!" she declared, placing her hand firmly on his shoulder. "I know that you want to improve. I know that you have more endurance and dedication than anyone I know¡ª"


    "I-I..." Marcus attempted to interject, but Adelaide pressed on.


    "But!" she emphasized, cutting him off. "This just isn¡¯t the way to go about it. You won¡¯t improve if you just keep swinging your sword all day."


    "But¡ª" Marcus tried again, only to be steamrolled by Adelaide¡¯s determined guidance.


    "I didn¡¯t say that you can¡¯t improve," she clarified, "it¡¯s just that you¡¯re going about it the wrong way. You want to be a strong fighter, right?" When he nodded, she continued with conviction, "Then you need to fight!"


    Marcus absorbed her words in silence. The logic wasn¡¯t new to him ¨C he¡¯d considered this himself. But without a hero¡¯s license, he couldn¡¯t legally raid dungeons. While his previous life had given him knowledge of several unregistered dungeons, they were either too distant or far too dangerous for his current capabilities.


    Sensing his hesitation, Adelaide quickly shifted tactics. "Actually, I was thinking of hiring some mercenaries to escort me outside the academy. How about you come with me? You can treat it as a form of training." Noting his thoughtful expression, she added her final hook: "Actually, it might be an even more valuable experience than you think."


    "What do you mean?" Marcus asked, interest piqued.


    Adelaide sighed dramatically. "Actually, my brother is a C-ranked awakened, and he¡¯ll probably attack me when I leave the academy." She paused for effect before continuing, "Didn¡¯t you lose to that C-rank monster in the dungeon? You can use this to see how much you¡¯ve improved."


    Internally, Adelaide was screaming in frustration. Why was this so difficult? Ambrose had made it look effortless, when he did it, he didnt use half as much word count, yet here she was practically giving a speech.


    Marcus considered her offer carefully. Combat experience would indeed be the fastest way to stimulate growth. Though he couldn¡¯t recall his talent¡¯s name, its earlier reaction suggested it could still be upgraded, it meant that it wasn¡¯t completely lost. Perhaps this explained how he¡¯d survived until meeting the Spirit King even after his talent was taken.


    Just as he was about to agree, something nagged at his memory. "What¡¯s your brother¡¯s name?" he asked suddenly.


    Adelaide blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. "His name is Sebastian Maximilian," she replied, wondering about the significance.


    The change in Marcus was immediate and striking. "When are we leaving?" he asked, his voice carrying a new edge of purpose.


    "Right now," Adelaide answered with a satisfied smile. She didn¡¯t understand why Sebastian¡¯s name had triggered such a decisive response, but she wasn¡¯t about to question her good fortune. If Marcus harbored some grudge against her brother, well, that would only make him a more motivated protector.


    ¡­ S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Back to the present,


    Adelaide watched the massive grey fist approaching with an almost surreal calm. "I¡¯ve really tried all that I could. I hope you don¡¯t let me down," she thought, her heart racing despite her outward composure. Just as Sebastian¡¯s demonic appendage was about to connect, a blur of motion intercepted the attack.


    A powerful kick caught Sebastian in his transformed side, the impact resonating with a thunderous crack. His massive form went sailing through the air, crashing through several nearby carriages in an explosion of splintered wood and billowing dust.


    Marcus materialized beside Adelaide, his signature sword hanging ready at his waist, its familiar weight a comfort in the face of what was to come.


    "You¡¯ve done enough. Leave the rest to me," he stated simply, his voice carrying quiet authority.


    "Thanks." Adelaide didn¡¯t hesitate to back away from the impending battle. She might have put on a brave face, but she was ultimately just a merchant¡¯s daughter with no combat ability. Simply keeping Sebastian distracted long enough for Marcus to deal with his subordinates had left her mentally exhausted. Now all she could do was hope that the warrior who had caught her master¡¯s interest was at least strong enough to handle a super enraged C-rank demonoid.


    But Marcus¡¯s thoughts ran far deeper than Adelaide could know. His ready agreement to accompany her hadn¡¯t been mere coincidence or chivalry ¨C Sebastian¡¯s name had triggered memories of a dark future. In that timeline, Sebastian would become one of humanity¡¯s greatest enemies, a human who sided with the demon realm, turning into a demonoid. His future atrocities were too numerous to count ¨C murder, plunder, and unspeakable crimes against women. He represented the lowest depths of human depravity.


    But this wasn¡¯t the only reason why he was after him, although sebastian was the lowest of the low, there were thousands of others like him or even worse. The reason he targeted him was that Sebastian was unique. He belonged to a category known as the "dark fragments" ¨C corrupted counterparts to the light fragments that bestowed divine powers upon the worthy. These dark fragments were given only to the most depraved, the absolutely unworthy, and they had played a crucial role in the third demon war. Eliminating this dark fragment now could deal a significant blow to the demons¡¯ future plans while providing humanity with a crucial advantage.


    But as Marcus squared off against his transformed opponent, doubt crept in. Sebastian possessed one of the most dangerous dark fragments ¨C the Sin of Lust from the notorious Sin series. As dust settled around them and Sebastian¡¯s monstrous form became visible through the haze, Marcus couldn¡¯t help but wonder: even with his knowledge of the future, would he be strong enough to prevail?


    A/N - Sorry for the rushed chapters, I was feeling a little sick. I¡¯ll try to edit them later.


    Thanks

 Chapter 53: I’m The Person Who Will Kill You

    The debris exploded outward as Sebastian rose from the wreckage, throwing splintered wood and carriage fragments aside like they weighed nothing. His transformed grey body seemed to absorb the fading sunlight as he turned to face his new opponent, red eyes narrowing with curiosity.


    "Who are you?" Sebastian¡¯s voice carried a mix of annoyance and genuine interest.


    Marcus didn¡¯t bother with a response. Instead, he activated [Blade Resonance](S), causing his sword to emit a soft blue glow as he closed the distance between them with practiced efficiency. Only when he was within striking range did he finally speak, his voice carrying deadly intent: "I¡¯m the person who¡¯s going to take your life."


    His blade whistled through the air in a perfect arc, but Sebastian merely lifted his hand with casual disdain. The sword connected with his grey skin and bounced off as if striking reinforced steel, the impact sending Marcus skidding backward several feet.


    "Take my life?" Sebastian¡¯s laughter held genuine amusement. "With just this much skill?" The demonoid had expected a Rothschild knight, someone worthy of real concern. Instead, he found himself facing what appeared to be an amateur swordsman with more courage than technique.


    From her position of relative safety, Adelaide watched with growing concern. Gone were the elaborate sword techniques she¡¯d witnessed before, replaced by basic swings that seemed almost primitive. Where was the sophisticated swordplay she¡¯d seen him display earlier? Was he playing the sheep to eat the tiger? Even Theodore, observing from nearby, seemed to share her assessment, nodding thoughtfully as if confirming his own theories about Marcus holding back. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sebastian¡¯s massive fist descended like a grey meteor, the air itself seeming to compress and flee from its path. Marcus could feel the raw power behind the blow ¨C this opponent was definitely stronger than the Flame Serpent, but that was expected from someone who would become a major player in the future demon war. Still, this was the perfect opportunity to test his new methodology, to see if stripping away complexity in favor of pure fundamentals could work against a superior foe.


    Marcus raised his sword, bracing the back of the blade with his free hand. When Sebastian¡¯s blow connected, the impact sent tremors through his entire body. An average C-rank fighter would have been launched across the battlefield, but Marcus¡¯s boots only slid back a few inches, leaving shallow trenches in the earth.


    The look of surprise on Sebastian¡¯s face was exactly what Marcus had been waiting for. In one fluid motion, he released his grip on his sword and activated [Bladeless Cut](B). His hands took on an ethereal blue glow as he thrust them forward, piercing straight through Sebastian¡¯s massive arm. The demonoid¡¯s scream of pain and surprise echoed across the battlefield as he yanked his injured limb back.


    Without missing a beat, Marcus caught his falling sword and chained together [Blade Resonance](S), [Sword Force](A), and [Edge Perception](B). While releasing one¡¯s weapon mid-battle was typically suicide for a swordsman, the gambit had created the opening he needed. He launched himself upward, sword aimed for Sebastian¡¯s throat with lethal precision.


    Sebastian barely managed to raise both hands in time to block, the blade cutting deep grooves into his grey flesh before pushing him back several feet. As he examined the slowly healing wounds on his hands, realization dawned ¨C this opponent wasn¡¯t using flashy techniques because he didn¡¯t need them. Every move was calculated, targeting weak points with the efficiency of a veteran killer.


    But even as Sebastian came to this understanding, Marcus had already closed the distance again, his blade seeking the demonoid¡¯s heart. Sebastian leaped backward, but Marcus pressed forward, determined not to give his opponent any breathing room. In his single-minded pursuit, however, he failed to notice Sebastian¡¯s subtle sidestep until it was too late. His momentum carried him past the demonoid, and as he turned his head, he caught sight of Sebastian¡¯s triumphant grin.


    The massive grey fist was already in motion, carrying enough force to shatter stone. Marcus could only watch its approach, time seeming to slow as he realized his error. "I¡¯m cooked!" The thought flashed through his mind as the devastating blow drew ever closer.


    ¡­


    Maximilian walked slowly through the ornate grounds toward his eldest son¡¯s mansion, his footsteps heavy with purpose. He¡¯d already visited Theodore¡¯s residence, only to learn his youngest had gone to see Sebastian. Perhaps this is for the best, he thought. I can speak with them both at once.


    Though he knew he was late ¨C years late, if he was being honest with himself ¨C Maximilian felt compelled to finally have a real conversation with his children. The image of Adelaide¡¯s words haunted him: seeking protection from her own brothers, and worse, believing her father too useless to help. The fact that his daughter, always so calculating and precise in her decisions, had determined that pledging herself to the Rothschild heir was a better option than coming to her own father... it cut deeper than any business loss he¡¯d ever suffered.


    Adelaide had always been like him ¨C practical, strategic, never making moves without careful consideration. For her to completely bypass him, to not even attempt a discussion about her fears... it spoke volumes about how she viewed his reliability as a father. And the worst part was, she was probably right. He likely would have just dismissed her concerns if she told him that she was afraid of her own brothers.


    As he walked through the mansion¡¯s corridors, memories of his children as young ones flooded back ¨C their innocent smiles, their eagerness to please. Before their mother¡¯s passing, before he¡¯d buried himself in work to escape his grief, leaving them to raise themselves. They were such obedient children, he thought. Surely if I just talk to them now, help them understand... we can work this out as a family.


    His pace quickened as he approached Sebastian¡¯s quarters, hope building in his chest. All he needed was this one conversation. If he could just reach them, make them see reason...


    The thought died unfinished as he pushed open the door. The sight that greeted him sent his world tilting on its axis. The stench hit him first ¨C a sickly-sweet miasma of drugs that made his stomach turn. Then his eyes took in the scene: women sprawled across the floor like discarded dolls, their vacant expressions telling a story of intoxication or worse.


    "What the fuck?" The words escaped him in a horrified whisper, his hopes of a simple family reconciliation crumbling to ash before his eyes. This wasn¡¯t the son he remembered. This wasn¡¯t something that could be fixed with just a father-son talk.

 Chapter 54: Light Fragment

    Through the crystallized moment of imminent impact, Marcus could only watch as Sebastian¡¯s massive grey fist approached with devastating force. Though his perception had slowed to a crawl, making each millisecond feel like an eternity, his body remained frustratingly bound by normal time. The paradox was maddening ¨C able to see his doom approaching in excruciating detail, yet powerless to avoid it.


    The impact, when it finally came, was like being struck by a meteor. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed across the battlefield with a sickening thud, and Marcus¡¯s world became a blur of motion and pain. His body cartwheeled through the air before striking the ground hard, bouncing and rolling several more feet as clouds of dust billowed in his wake.


    The taste of copper filled his mouth as he coughed up blood, his hands trembling as he pushed himself up from the dirt. The harsh reality of their power gap struck him harder than any physical blow ¨C all his calculated strikes, his precise techniques, every bit of damage he¡¯d managed to inflict through careful strategy... none of it compared to the raw devastation of a single casual punch from his opponent.


    I need to avoid getting hit at all costs, he thought, but the realization came too late. Sebastian¡¯s massive form materialized before him with frightening speed, grey fingers wrapping around Marcus¡¯s head before driving it into the ground with bone-crushing force.


    "Kid, you just landed a few hits and thought you could defeat me?" Sebastian¡¯s laughter held no trace of humanity now, just the raw malice of a fully manifested demonoid. "Let me show you what real defeat feels like."


    Before Marcus could fully regain his feet, those terrible fingers seized his skull again, threatening to crush it like an overripe fruit. He grabbed desperately at the massive grey hand, but it was like trying to stop a hydraulic press with bare hands. The pressure built inexorably, and coherent thought began to slip away under the overwhelming force. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, in that moment of desperation, inspiration struck. Marcus activated his [Bladeless Cut](B) skill, but with a crucial modification. Instead of attempting to manifest the full cutting force ¨C which he knew would be insufficient against Sebastian¡¯s overwhelming strength ¨C he concentrated all the energy into a single point: the tip of one fingernail.


    The effect was instantaneous. Sebastian¡¯s agonized scream split the air as he hurled Marcus away, sending him crashing into a nearby tree. Though the impact rattled his bones, Marcus recovered quickly, springing to his feet and putting some much-needed distance between them.


    His gambit had worked ¨C like focusing the sun through a magnifying glass, concentrating all the force into a microscopic point had created something akin to a superpowered bee sting. While the actual damage was minimal, the pain had been intense enough to break Sebastian¡¯s grip and buy precious seconds as the demonoid clutched his injured hand, howling in rage.


    But as Marcus watched his opponent¡¯s fury build, he knew he¡¯d only bought himself a brief reprieve. His bag of tricks was running empty, and even his most underhanded tactics had failed to turn the tide. Yet surrender wasn¡¯t an option ¨C allowing Sebastian to live meant condemning countless future victims to suffering, not to mention the devastating role that the dark fragments would play in the coming demon war.


    The question of victory, however, remained frustratingly elusive as Sebastian advanced with murderous intent, all pretense of toying with his prey abandoned. The humiliation of that precise, painful strike had pushed the demonoid past the point of sadistic play ¨C now he simply wanted Marcus dead, and dead quickly.


    How? Marcus wondered desperately. How do I bridge this gap? The answer continued to elude him as his opponent¡¯s massive form drew ever closer, promising only pain and death.


    ¡­


    Marcus faced his opponent with newfound clarity, closing his eyes not in resignation but in focused preparation. When they reopened, they held an unshakeable calm. He raised his hand deliberately, channeling his power as [Bladeless Cut](B) manifested, wreathing his uplifted palm in ethereal energy. But this was merely the foundation.


    Layer by layer, he built his technique. [Sword Force](A) came next, causing the aura to expand dramatically until it rivaled the size of his usual blade. Then [Blade Resonance](S) amplified it further still, the energy stretching skyward until it towered like the tree behind him. Any leaves that drifted too close to this massive construct simply ceased to exist, disintegrating on contact with the powerful aura.


    Yet Marcus pushed further, adding [Edge Perception](B) to the mix. Though it didn¡¯t visibly increase the energy¡¯s size, it honed his focus to a razor¡¯s edge, ensuring perfect control over the immense power he was gathering. The blue aura suddenly shifted, transforming into brilliant gold. For a moment, it writhed like captured lightning, striking out in chaotic patterns before abruptly stabilizing into a colossal blade of pure energy.


    The manifested sword stood nearly ten meters tall and a full meter wide, its presence so overwhelming that even Sebastian halted his charge, eyeing the construct with clear apprehension. The very air seemed to vibrate with its power, creating an almost physical pressure that pushed against everyone present.


    "I can finally see it," Marcus declared, his voice carrying absolute conviction, "my path of the sword. I¡¯ll call this technique, ¡¯Downward Slash.¡¯" As the words left his lips, a divine voice resonated within his mind:


    [The angel Gabriel has acknowledged your devotion towards mankind! You have received the Virtue Series light fragment, Kindness]1


    But Marcus had no time to contemplate this development ¨C his focus remained locked on the technique he was about to unleash. With a thought, he sent the massive blade plummeting downward toward his opponent.


    Sebastian could only watch in growing terror as the giant sword descended. To Adelaide and Theodore, observing from a safe distance, it appeared like divine judgment itself ¨C an angel¡¯s sword coming down to smite evil from the world. As the blade drew within inches of him, Sebastian¡¯s fear finally overcame his arrogance. Raw survival instinct took over, causing his body to explode with crimson energy in a desperate bid for survival.


    The clash between golden light and demonic energy was brief but spectacular. Though Sebastian¡¯s power managed to resist for a few precious seconds, it was like trying to hold back an avalanche with bare hands. The golden sword pushed inexorably downward, its divine radiance overwhelming and consuming Sebastian¡¯s corrupted form entirely.


    ¡­


    [Name: Marcus Turner]


    [Level: D => C]


    [Talent: Sword Intent (Top Level)]


    [Authority: Light Fragment (Virtue: Kindness)]


    [Health: 4000/4000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 40]


    [Stamina: 40]


    [Agility: 45]


    Skills:


    Upgrade: [Sword Heart](C => B)


    New: [Downward Slash](SS)


    A/N - It¡¯s a voice, not a system screen, don¡¯t get it confused. (Think of the square brackets as some form of authority)

 Chapter 55: What Do You Know?

    The golden radiance of Marcus¡¯s attack clashed with Sebastian¡¯s desperate surge of crimson energy. For a brief moment, the demonic aura seemed to hold back the divine light, creating a spectacular collision of powers. But the resistance proved futile - the golden sword¡¯s edge found a crack in Sebastian¡¯s defense, and that small weakness was all it needed. The blade¡¯s light burst through, consuming the demonoid in a brilliant explosion that turned the battlefield into a miniature sun. For several heartbeats, a fifty-meter radius blazed with light so intense it rivaled daylight.


    As the radiance faded, Marcus found himself on one knee, his body trembling from overexertion. Through blurred vision, he could make out Sebastian¡¯s form still lying in the impact crater - somehow alive, though grievously wounded. Drawing upon his remaining strength, Marcus pushed himself upright, wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand. The move had depleted almost all his energy. Although he didn¡¯t have enough energy to use his skills, he still had enough energy to finish what he had started. He slowly walked up and picked up his fallen sword.


    The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him. Even in this weakened state, Sebastian couldn¡¯t be allowed to escape. A wounded demonoid would only grow stronger by preying on innocent lives to heal itself. Yet as Marcus raised his blade for the finishing blow, something unprecedented occurred.


    The grey corrupted skin covering Sebastian began to crack and peel away, revealing patches of human flesh beneath. Most striking was his face - the demonic features receding to expose an expression of raw desperation. Sebastian clutched at Marcus¡¯s pants with trembling hands, tears streaming down his partially transformed face.


    "Save me," he pleaded, his voice carrying none of its previous malice.


    Marcus froze, sword still raised. In all his knowledge of the future, he¡¯d never encountered anything like this. Demonification was supposed to be irreversible - a one-way transformation that consumed both body and soul. Could this be some kind of deception? A disguise ability to lower his guard?


    "Please," Sebastian begged again, his grip tightening on Marcus¡¯s clothes.


    From her position of relative safety, Adelaide watched the scene unfold with mounting concern and disappointment. Her original plan had been modest - she¡¯d hoped Marcus would simply create enough trouble that Sebastian would consider pursuit too bothersome. When her brother had transformed into a demonoid, genuine worry had crept in. She¡¯d noticed how Ambrose seemed to particularly value both Meihua and Marcus, with Marcus holding an especially high place in their master¡¯s regard. The thought of having to explain any serious harm to him had filled her with dread.


    Yet against all expectations, Marcus had achieved victory. But now, watching him hesitate before Sebastian¡¯s pleading form, Adelaide could only sigh in resigned disappointment. She¡¯d always sensed this softness in Marcus¡¯s character - this reluctance to strike down anything that appeared human. His current paralysis came as no surprise.


    As she observed the tableau before her, Adelaide found herself wishing for Ambrose¡¯s presence. Despite his physical frailty, he possessed an uncanny ability to maintain control over any situation, radiating a sense of security that made others feel safe and confident in their actions. Even without combat power, he always seemed to know exactly what needed to be done.


    Marcus shared similar thoughts as Sebastian continued clinging to his clothes. "What should i do?" The question plagued him as internal conflict raged. His mind raced in circles - if only Ambrose was here, he would know exactly how to handle this impossible situation. The young master always seemed to find the perfect solution, even in the most challenging circumstances. But Ambrose wasn¡¯t here, and Marcus felt paralyzed by indecision, desperately wishing for guidance that wouldn¡¯t come. What course of action would Ambrose recommend? Before he could wrestle his way to an answer, a shadow fell across them.


    Theodore appeared behind his brother with silent efficiency. Without ceremony or hesitation, he drove his hand through Sebastian¡¯s back. The wounded demonoid, too weak to resist, could only shudder as the strike pierced straight through his body.


    ¡­


    Darkness poured from Sebastian¡¯s chest as Theodore ripped out his corrupted heart. The demonoid¡¯s body collapsed like a puppet with severed strings, crumpling to the ground in an undignified heap. Without ceremony or hesitation, Theodore ignited the dark organ in his palm, reducing it to ash that scattered on the evening breeze.


    Marcus and Adelaide could only stare in stunned silence as the scene unfolded before them. Marcus was the first to find his voice, shock and outrage warring in his tone. "You¡ª" he began, struggling to process this new development. Not only had Theodore concealed his awakened status, but the casual brutality of his actions defied belief. "H-how could you do that? He had already given up! How could you sneak attack a defenseless..."


    Theodore¡¯s sharp click of tongue cut through Marcus¡¯s building tirade. "Don¡¯t give me that righteousness bullshit!" he snapped, his cultured facade cracking as he meticulously cleaned his bloodied hand with a handkerchief before incinerating the cloth. Adjusting his glasses with practiced precision, he continued, "If you¡¯re so righteous, why not join the holy church and preach there instead?"


    Gone was any trace of the meek younger brother who had cowered in Sebastian¡¯s shadow. In his place stood someone altogether different, even radiating a slight imposing aura that commanded attention.


    "What? But he was your brother!" Marcus protested, unable to comprehend such cold-blooded fratricide.


    "What would you know?" Theodore¡¯s dismissive response carried centuries of ice.


    Adelaide, now standing beside Marcus, observed the exchange with calculating eyes. Sebastian¡¯s death neither surprised nor saddened her - she had always sensed something lurking beneath Theodore¡¯s carefully constructed mask of submission. His revealed power level, which she estimated at least D-rank mage-type, only confirmed her long-held suspicions.1


    More pressing concerns occupied her thoughts, however. With Sebastian dead and Marcus clearly exhausted, what would Theodore do next? Would the inheritance drive him to eliminate potential rivals while they were vulnerable?


    As if reading her thoughts, Theodore spoke. "No need to speculate! I¡¯m not interested in fighting you," he declared smoothly. "Unlike my brother, I can distinguish friend from foe." He extended his hand in a gesture of peace. "Now that the real villain is dead, let¡¯s get along from now on."


    Adelaide studied the offered hand, her merchant¡¯s mind dissecting Theodore¡¯s motivations. His logic was clear enough - she had already forfeited her inheritance claims, removing any reason for conflict. Moreover, her connection to Ambrose Rothschild made her a dangerous target. Now, likely concerned about future repercussions, he sought to shift all blame onto their conveniently deceased brother. After all, the dead couldn¡¯t defend their reputations.


    But Adelaide hadn¡¯t risen to her position by letting moral considerations interfere with profitable arrangements. She had, after all, already traded her loyalty for advantage once before. With a practiced smile, she took his hand. "You¡¯re right! Let¡¯s get along well from now on."


    Theodore¡¯s answering smile held genuine appreciation for her quick grasp of the situation. This was why he had always considered her his most capable sibling.


    "Now if you¡¯ll excuse us," Adelaide said, grasping Marcus¡¯s reluctant arm. "We¡¯ll be going now. Master has been waiting long enough. We wouldn¡¯t want him getting impatient, right?"


    "No, we wouldn¡¯t want that," Theodore agreed, watching as Adelaide practically dragged a still-conflicted Marcus toward the remaining carriage. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Long after they had departed, Theodore remained standing over his brother¡¯s corpse. Finally, without a backward glance, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the cooling body of what had once been his elder brother.


    A/N - The talent types are 3 (Combat, Support, Intelligence) but each time also has some subtypes, Combat [Warrior, Berserker, Agility, etc], Support [Mage, Healer, etc], Intelligence, [Enchanter, Alchemist, etc]

 Chapter 56: The Price For Success

    Adelaide sat in her carriage, methodically sorting through stacks of documents with practiced efficiency. The evening sun filtered through the windows, casting shifting patterns across the papers in her lap. If anyone had witnessed her calm demeanor, they would never have guessed she had just watched her brother¡¯s execution mere minutes ago. But for Adelaide, family had always been more concept than reality ¨C their deaths carried no more emotional weight than the closing of a disappointing business venture.


    Her eyes lifted from her work to study Marcus, who sat across from her in uncharacteristic silence. Despite achieving a breakthrough that had elevated him to C-rank, he showed none of the enthusiasm one might expect. His shoulders remained tense, his gaze distant and troubled. She suspected Sebastian¡¯s final moments ¨C that desperate plea for salvation ¨C still haunted him.


    For a moment, Adelaide considered attempting to console him, but quickly dismissed the notion. Her skills lay in contracts and calculations, not comfort. A wry smile touched her lips as an unbidden thought crossed her mind: Master, please wake up and look after your boyfriend. She immediately shook her head, banishing the dangerous thought. Given how Ambrose seemed capable of achieving the impossible, she wouldn¡¯t put it past him to somehow read minds. Better to focus on her documents than risk such thoughts lingering.


    Across the carriage, Marcus¡¯s mind wandered down darker paths. Sebastian¡¯s final moments played on repeat in his memory ¨C that look of desperate humanity breaking through the demonic corruption. Had there truly been no hope of salvation? After all, Sebastian had been born human, not demon. Somewhere along the way, he had simply lost his path. The only known "cure" for demonoids lay with the Holy Church, but Marcus knew all too well that their methods couldn¡¯t truly be called salvation.


    His thoughts drifted to Ambrose, as they often did lately. Despite his physical frailty, Ambrose never complained, maintaining an air of serene confidence that made others believe anything was possible. That reassuring presence that made one want to rely on him completely. Perhaps Ambrose might know of another way, some solution that others had overlooked. Marcus made a mental note to ask him ¨C once he regained consciousness. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The thought of Ambrose reminded Marcus of his debt of gratitude. Without Ambrose¡¯s intervention in the dungeon, who knows what might have happened? He still needed to properly thank him for that. But what gift could possibly be meaningful to someone like Ambrose Rothschild? The heir to one of the kingdom¡¯s most powerful families would have access to virtually anything money could buy. Marcus needed something unique, something that couldn¡¯t simply be purchased or acquired through the Rothschild family¡¯s vast network of connections.


    Suddenly, his eyes widened as inspiration struck like lightning. Now that he had advanced to C-rank, there was something he could obtain ¨C something that even the Rothschild family¡¯s resources couldn¡¯t easily secure. The realization energized him, dispelling his earlier melancholy.


    Without warning, Marcus rose from his seat, the sudden movement surprising Adelaide slightly. "I just remembered something," he announced, already reaching for the carriage door. "I¡¯m getting off here."


    Adelaide watched his abrupt departure with a mixture of curiosity and mild concern. "What was that about?" she wondered aloud, though she felt a small measure of relief seeing him shake off his earlier depression. Something had clearly motivated him, though she could only hope his sudden inspiration wouldn¡¯t lead him into more trouble. After all, given recent events, they had more than enough complications to deal with already.


    As Marcus¡¯s figure grew smaller in the distance, Adelaide returned her attention to her documents, though part of her mind continued to puzzle over his mysterious departure. Whatever he was planning, she just hoped it wouldn¡¯t create more problems for their already complex situation. At least he should wait until Ambrose had woken up.


    A/N - Looks like I¡¯ll have to write a few more Marcus chapters before Ambrose wakes up.


    ¡­


    Theodore gazed through the carriage window, his expression carefully neutral as the landscape rolled past. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a beautiful sight that seemed almost mocking given the day¡¯s bloody events. His mind wandered back to his earlier interaction with Adelaide and Marcus, analyzing each moment with clinical precision.


    From his earliest memories, Theodore had lived in the shadows of his elder siblings. Sebastian, their eldest, commanded support from numerous noble houses, while Adelaide carved her own path through sheer force of will and intelligence. Theodore alone had been forced to rely on their father¡¯s influence, though he had a few supporters, he knew the nobles who supported him merely coveted the family fortune.


    A bitter smile played across his features as he recalled his carefully constructed facade ¨C the image of a helpless youngest child who could only survive through his father¡¯s protection and his brother¡¯s goodwill. But beneath this carefully crafted mask lay a ruthlessly calculating mind. He had recognized early on that Adelaide was their father¡¯s favorite, her network of connections already firmly established before he could even begin to compete. His late birth had sealed his fate before he could even attempt to change it.


    Yet Theodore had refused to accept defeat. His first strategy had been to pursue power through conventional means ¨C grueling training sessions and endless practice. But reality proved harsh; his ordinary talent imposed severe limitations. Despite pushing himself to absolute limits, he had only managed to reach the peak of D-rank. The dream of overwhelming others through pure strength crumbled like a castle built on sand.


    Adapting to this reality, Theodore had shifted his focus to mental warfare. Adelaide proved too shrewd to manipulate directly, but Sebastian ¨C for all his physical might ¨C presented an ideal target. His elder brother¡¯s combination of strength and stupidity made him the perfect puppet. Theodore¡¯s strategy had been methodical: regular visits bearing gifts of women and drugs, slowly eroding Sebastian¡¯s discipline until the once-diligent heir devolved into a depraved addict.


    But even the best-laid plans could go awry. As time passed, Theodore noticed disturbing changes in his brother. Sebastian¡¯s behavior grew increasingly erratic, his strength expanding at an unnatural rate. The puppet was developing unfortunate aspirations to become the puppet master. Yet one constant remained ¨C Sebastian¡¯s deep-seated inferiority complex toward Adelaide.


    When news of Adelaide¡¯s return reached Theodore through his network of informants, he recognized a perfect opportunity to orchestrate his masterpiece. Though aware of her connection to the Rothschild heir, Theodore had carefully manipulated the information he shared with Sebastian. He deliberately downplayed Adelaide¡¯s new status, presenting her association with Ambrose as mere coincidence rather than the formal subordinate relationship it truly was. After all, even Sebastian might hesitate to move against someone under Rothschild protection.


    His plan was elegantly simple in its conception: by pitting Sebastian against Adelaide¡¯s faction, Theodore would emerge victorious regardless of the outcome. If Sebastian somehow prevailed, Theodore would remain the trusted advisor to the new heir. If Adelaide¡¯s side won, he could present himself as an unwitting bystander to his brother¡¯s madness. Either way, his position would be secured.


    The gambit had played out exactly as planned. Adelaide¡¯s protector had proven more than capable of handling Sebastian even after the surprising transformation, and Theodore had seized the perfect moment to eliminate his brother. With Sebastian¡¯s death, any direct evidence of Theodore¡¯s manipulation died as well. Though Adelaide might suspect his role as instigator, she was too practical to pursue vendetta without proof, especially when cooperation promised mutual benefit.


    Now, as his carriage carried him homeward, Theodore finally allowed himself to relax slightly. He had gambled everything on his sister¡¯s pragmatic nature ¨C her willingness to abandon the inheritance and overlook past grievances had proven crucial to his success. Had Adelaide been even slightly more vindictive, his machinations might have cost him not just the inheritance but his life as well.


    Theodore closed his eyes, suddenly feeling the weight of the day¡¯s events. His immediate priority was to return home and wash away the evidence of fratricide, giving himself time to process his new reality as heir to the Golden Compass Trading Company. Everything had worked out perfectly ¨C perhaps too perfectly. In his experience, such flawless victories often preceded the greatest disasters. But those were concerns for tomorrow; for now, he had achieved his immediate goal, though the cost had been paid in family blood.

 Chapter 57: Fox Girl (it’s not what you think)

    Marcus moved through the dense foliage of Silvermist Valley, his blade cutting through low-hanging branches that blocked his path. Each swing brought a twinge of guilt - this wasn¡¯t what his faithful weapon was meant for. "I¡¯m sorry," he silently communicated to his sword, watching as another branch fell away. "When I reach B-rank, I¡¯ll find you an upgrade stone. You deserve better than being used as a glorified gardening tool."


    Sword: (;Ò»_Ò») S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His thoughts drifted to yesterday¡¯s confrontation with Sebastian, specifically to that moment of breakthrough. The memory was still fresh - that divine voice echoing in his consciousness, one he recognized instantly as the Will of the World, or as some called it, the Way of Heaven. This cosmic force served as the world¡¯s natural balancing system, typically manifesting only to acknowledge truly significant achievements, much like when he¡¯d advanced his talent in his previous life.1


    He recalled the exact words that had resonated through his being:


    [The angel Gabriel has acknowledged your devotion towards mankind! You have received the Virtue Series light fragment, Kindness]


    This new power - the Virtue Series light fragment - represented a perfect counter to Sebastian¡¯s Sin Series. More importantly, it granted him access to divine power, a natural bane to demonic entities. He¡¯d witnessed its effectiveness firsthand when his attack had torn through Sebastian¡¯s corrupted form.


    Finally breaking through the last barrier of vegetation, Marcus emerged into a sunlit clearing. There it stood - an undiscovered dungeon portal, its ethereal surface shimming with untapped potential. A slight smile crossed his face; this was one of the advantages of being a regressor. He knew exactly where to find these hidden treasures, and better yet, he could access them without a hero¡¯s license since they weren¡¯t officially registered yet.


    In his previous life, this dungeon had yielded relatively little of note when finally discovered - except for one particular item: the Echo Collar. Most had dismissed it as worthless, scoffing at its ability to convert mental strength into physical power. After all, what fool would sacrifice their precious mental energy for mere physical enhancement? But Marcus knew better now. For someone like Ambrose, perpetually trapped by his physical limitations, such an artifact could be revolutionary. Even the Rothschild family¡¯s vast resources couldn¡¯t secure this item elsewhere - it was truly unique to this location.


    Without further hesitation, Marcus stepped through the portal. The scene that greeted him on the other side left him momentarily stunned. Endless fields of emerald grass stretched toward the horizon, dotted with clusters of wildflowers in every imaginable hue. Crystal-clear streams wove through the landscape like silver ribbons, their gentle burbling creating a soothing melody. The air itself seemed alive, carrying the sweet fragrance of blooming jasmine and fresh morning dew. Butterflies danced between nodding flower heads while golden motes of light drifted lazily through the air.


    "This... is inside a dungeon?" Marcus whispered, momentarily captivated by the paradisiacal setting. But he quickly shook off his wonder - he had a mission to complete. This peaceful garden could be hiding all manner of dangers, and he couldn¡¯t afford to let his guard down, no matter how enchanting the scenery appeared.


    ¡­


    Marcus leaned against a tree trunk, his breaths coming in measured pants. Hours had passed since he¡¯d entered the dungeon, yet something felt fundamentally wrong. The pristine landscape stretched endlessly in every direction, an unchanging tapestry of verdant grass and vibrant blooms. Not a single creature stirred - no insects buzzed, no birds called, not even a wayward breeze disturbed the perfect stillness. Most concerning was how the uniform scenery had completely disoriented him; the entrance point had vanished among identical vistas.


    As he contemplated his next move, a voice whispered directly into his mind, smooth as silk but carrying an unsettling undertone: "~Lad, do you want power?"


    "Ambrose?" Marcus started, momentarily thrown by the familiar method of communication. But he quickly dismissed the thought - though similar to Ambrose¡¯s mental communication, this voice carried none of his young master¡¯s characteristic presence.


    "No! Who are you?" he demanded, tension creeping into his stance.


    "~Hehehe! That¡¯s not important right now," the voice giggled, "just answer the question."


    Something clicked in Marcus¡¯s mind, pieces falling into place. "I see, so that¡¯s how it is," he murmured, a knowing smile playing across his lips.


    "~What are you talking about?" The voice¡¯s confusion seemed genuine, but Marcus had already closed his eyes, focusing entirely on his other senses - the subtle vibrations in the air, the faintest whisper of movement.


    He activated his skill:


    [Edge Perception](B) - A passive ability that heightens the user¡¯s awareness of all blade-like edges within their vicinity. The user can sense the position, sharpness, and movement of any bladed weapon within 30 meters. This awareness extends to potential cutting surfaces in the environment and grants intuitive understanding of optimal cutting angles. This ability becomes particularly potent when combined with Blade Resonance.


    The reaction was instantaneous. Without opening his eyes, Marcus¡¯s sword flashed through the air in a precise arc, deflecting three deadly daggers that had been aimed at his vital points. As the weapons clattered to the ground, he slowly opened his eyes - and the world transformed.


    The idyllic garden vanished like morning mist, revealing the truth: a dimly lit underground cavern, its rough walls glistening with moisture. "I knew it!" he thought triumphantly. The revelation had come when he¡¯d analyzed the voice¡¯s transmission method. Mental communication over long distances required at least A-rank power, how could there be such a powerful person in a C rank dungeon - that meant that the transmitter had to have been close to him, yet despite exploring extensively for so long, he¡¯d never encountered the speaker. The only logical conclusion? He hadn¡¯t actually been moving at all, trapped instead in an elaborate illusion while the voice¡¯s owner remained consistently nearby.


    His gaze fell upon the source of the deception, and surprise flickered across his features. A small fox girl sat chained to the cavern wall, her furry ears pressed flat against her head in obvious frustration.


    "Why are you pretending to be a man?" he asked, genuinely curious.


    "H-how were you able to escape?" she stammered, clearly more shocked by his breakthrough than he was by her identity.


    "Oh that?" Marcus shrugged, moving closer. "I figured it out when you spoke to me. But why try to kill me? Aren¡¯t beastmen and humans allies?"


    The fox girl clutched her head in dismay. "So I was the one who freed him?" Recovering quickly, she bristled at his second question. "What allies? The beastmen have been fighting the human race for as long as we know. As the fox clan princess, do you think I don¡¯t know the status of the war? Don¡¯t think you can trick me just because I¡¯m not smart, okay!"


    Marcus couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. "You actually admit that you¡¯re not smart?" His amusement faded as her words sank in. "Wait, the fox clan princess?" A disturbing thought struck him. "What year do you think it is?"


    The fox girl turned away haughtily. "Of course I know the year, do you think I¡¯m stupid?"


    "You just said so like two sentences ago," Marcus pointed out dryly.


    "Well, it¡¯s..." she huffed, "using the human calendar, it should be year 1000 of the Hero Rothschild Era."


    Marcus regarded her with newfound understanding, his voice gentle as he delivered the shocking truth: "That was one thousand years ago."


    A/N - "World" here doesn¡¯t mean the human world but the entire verse.

 Chapter 58: Empire Spies

    The dense forest canopy filtered the afternoon sunlight, casting dappled shadows across three figures making their way through the underbrush. Their movements were careful and deliberate, each step calculated to minimize noise despite their casual conversation.


    Wei Ruohan¡¯s flowing white robes with their intricate silver embroidery of clouds and wind patterns caught what little light penetrated the forest ceiling, making her appear almost ethereal. The traditional mage¡¯s attire had been subtly modified to blend with Avaloria Kingdom¡¯s fashion, its wide sleeves perfect for concealing both spell components and weapons. Her high-collared, multi-layered design offered surprising protection without sacrificing elegance, while her hair was partially secured with a jade hairpin that served as more than mere decoration ¨C it was a focus for her magical abilities.


    "Are you sure that you saw it right?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of tension that belied her composed exterior.


    Beside her, Shin Akira adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles ¨C a habitual gesture that cleverly drew attention away from his sharp, analytical gaze. His deliberately unremarkable attire ¨C a well-made but plain dark blue tunic over black pants, complemented by a leather vest riddled with hidden pockets ¨C was chosen specifically to be forgettable. "Of course I saw it right, I¡¯m an observer! Are you doubting my eyesight?" he retorted, clearly offended by the implication.


    Park Min-jae¡¯s massive frame moved between them with surprising grace, his mercenary¡¯s gear barely making a sound despite its robust construction. The thick leather armor, reinforced with metal plates, bore the subtle hallmarks of Xia craftsmanship, while his heavy fur-lined cloak made his already impressive stature seem even more imposing. Unknown to casual observers, the cloak¡¯s lining concealed several defensive talismans, their power waiting to be awakened.


    "Now now, let¡¯s calm down. I¡¯m sure Akira wouldn¡¯t mistake a dungeon," Min-jae intervened, his diplomatic tone at odds with his warrior¡¯s appearance.


    Ruohan turned away with a dismissive "Hmph! If we get late because of you, just know that I won¡¯t be taking the blame for it." Akira mirrored her action, creating a moment of childish tension that made Min-jae smile nervously as he wondered, "Are we really going to be fine?"


    The levity of their interaction masked a far more serious reality. As spies from the Xia Empire, their mission seemed simple enough ¨C reconnaissance to assess the kingdom¡¯s vulnerability following the battle involving the Mad Star. Yet each of them carried the heavy knowledge that this assignment was essentially a death sentence. Whether they succeeded in gathering intelligence or not, their chances of leaving the kingdom alive were virtually nonexistent.


    Despite the disappearance of the Mad Star, they couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate Avaloria¡¯s ten great families. The possibility that this whole situation was an elaborate trap ¨C drawing in attackers only to crush them when they least expected it ¨C couldn¡¯t be ignored. Their task was to observe and report any suspicious activities immediately.


    However, Akira¡¯s discovery of an unexplored C-rank dungeon had introduced an unexpected variable into their mission. If they could successfully explore it and secure its resources for the empire, such a contribution might be enough to change their fate.


    The dense foliage finally gave way to a clearing, and all three gasped in unison. There, shimmering with ethereal energy, stood the unmistakable form of a dungeon portal.


    "Do you believe me now?" Akira¡¯s smug satisfaction was evident in his voice.


    Min-jae laughed warmly, ruffling both his companions¡¯ hair with casual affection. "Of course we believed you. Ruohan was just nervous because it¡¯s her first mission outside the empire."


    Ruohan remained silent, her eyes fixed on the portal as she contemplated what lay beyond. Without further discussion, the three approached the entrance, each step carrying them closer to what they hoped might be their salvation rather than their doom. The portal¡¯s surface rippled invitingly as they stepped through, leaving the peaceful forest clearing behind.


    ¡­


    In the dimly lit cavern, Xiao Yue, the fox princess, sat with her head clutched between her hands, her entire frame trembling with shock. The weight of Marcus¡¯s revelations crashed over her like a tidal wave ¨C not just the passage of a millennium, but the devastating truth about her clan¡¯s fate. Her fox ears lay flat against her head, quivering with each ragged breath she took.


    "This can¡¯t be..." she whispered, her voice breaking. The fox clan she had proudly led into battle, the warriors who had followed her without question ¨C all of them, gone. Their deaths weren¡¯t just casualties of war; they were the direct result of her impetuous leadership. If she had only shown more patience, waited just a little longer, her people might have lived to see the peace treaty signed.


    "Hey! Are you okay?" Marcus¡¯s concerned voice barely penetrated her spiral of self-recrimination. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, Xiao Yue sprang to her feet. Her small hands shot out, grabbing Marcus¡¯s collar with surprising strength, her claws digging into the fabric. "Please help me!" she pleaded, shaking him with desperate energy. "Please..." Tears streamed down her face, catching the dim light of the cavern.


    "Hey, it¡¯s alright. I didn¡¯t say I won¡¯t help," Marcus tried to gentle disengage her grip, but her claws remained firmly embedded in his clothing.


    With trembling hands, Xiao Yue reached into her dress and withdrew an ancient scroll, its surface weathered by time. "T-there are still members of the fox clan left," she announced, her voice steadying slightly.


    Marcus stared at her in confusion. In all his knowledge of the future, he had never encountered even a whisper of surviving fox clan members. Their extinction was considered absolute historical fact.


    "Yes, they exist!" she insisted, noting his skeptical expression. "Although people said that I was never the smart type, I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to also take the elderly and children to battle." Her words carried a hint of pride beneath the desperation.


    Understanding dawned on Marcus¡¯s face as she continued, "Although they are still alive, they¡¯re still in hiding. We hid them and told them that if we don¡¯t come back, they should assume that we have lost the war and never come out." Her voice cracked as she added, "Now that we¡¯ve been gone for so long, I can¡¯t imagine how they feel."


    Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she made her final plea, "Please! Will you let my people also enjoy the peace?"


    Marcus regarded her thoughtfully before asking, "Why are you telling me this? What if I am a bad person?" The ease with which she revealed such a monumental secret surprised him.


    But Xiao Yue¡¯s response was immediate and filled with absolute conviction: "How could the bearer of light be a bad person?" Her eyes fixed on him with complete trust, reflecting the faith she placed in the divine power she sensed within him.

 Chapter 59: I Knew All Along

    Xiao Yue fixed Marcus with a look of complete bewilderment, as if he¡¯d just asked why water was wet. "How could the bearer of light be a bad person?" she asked, genuine confusion evident in her voice.


    Marcus¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "Bearer of light? You mean the light fragment?"


    The fox princess nodded sagely, her ears twitching slightly. "Don¡¯t ask how I know," she said with quiet confidence. "The fox clan has always been close to the Moon Goddess, and as the princess of the clan, there¡¯s no way I couldn¡¯t feel the divinity radiating all over you." Her tone carried the weight of ancient knowledge, matter-of-fact and unwavering.


    "If you already knew that," Marcus asked, his brow furrowing in confusion, "then why did you try to kill me earlier?"


    "I was just testing you," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Her expression turned serious as she continued, "If you¡¯d have said that you wanted power, I would have killed you! If you refused, I¡¯d let you go." Her eyes drifted to the fallen daggers scattered across the cavern floor. "But it wasn¡¯t necessary for you."


    Marcus studied her with a mix of fascination and bewilderment. I don¡¯t know if she¡¯s really smart or just a self-aware idiot, he thought to himself.


    As if reading his mind, Xiao Yue¡¯s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You thought something bad of me, didn¡¯t you?"


    "How did you know... I mean... what are you talking about?" Marcus waved his hands frantically, trying to project innocence.


    "Hmph! I know that look," she pouted, her fox ears laying flat against her head in annoyance.


    After a moment of silence, her expression sobered. "Actually," she began, her voice growing quiet, "I already had a feeling that we had lost." Her gaze turned distant as she continued, "And when I was brought here... whoever brought me here went and never came back. I thought I had been left here to die, but as the days went by, I still couldn¡¯t die."


    She drew her knees up to her chest, making herself seem even smaller. "It was then that I realized I wasn¡¯t in the real world anymore, but a dungeon. I seemed to have merged with the core of the dungeon and became one with it. That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t die of hunger all this time."


    "As time went by, I just thought that the dungeon had a faster flow of time," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because- because I didn¡¯t want to admit that time was running out for my people." Her voice cracked slightly. "I wanted to believe that time was still as I left it outside, that this was just some cruel torture to break me. I wanted to believe that I could still go out and help my people win the war! But now I can¡¯t do that anymore." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her eyes fell to the ancient scroll in her hands. Straightening her arm toward Marcus, she asked with quiet determination, "Will you let my people enjoy the peace I couldn¡¯t get for them?"


    Marcus looked at the offered scroll, then drew his sword in one fluid motion. Xiao Yue didn¡¯t flinch or react, remaining perfectly still even as the blade swung toward her. With a sharp clank, the chains binding her neck fell away.


    "Why don¡¯t you tell them that yourself?" Marcus suggested.


    The moment the chains hit the ground, an extraordinary transformation began. Xiao Yue¡¯s small form started growing at an alarming rate until she stood nearly eye-to-eye with Marcus. She stared at her hands in wonder, clearly surprised by her own restoration. The chain had been more than just a restraint ¨C it had sealed her powers, leaving her only able to access her clan¡¯s treasure to convert mental strength into physical power. The collar, a symbol of clan leadership she¡¯d once considered mere decoration, had become her only means of maintaining any strength while bound.


    As she flexed her fingers, testing her restored form, a frown crossed her features. "As expected," she thought, noting that while her body had returned to its original size, her former strength remained elusive. Yet this revelation didn¡¯t seem to discourage her ¨C she¡¯d grown accustomed to working with limited power.


    Before she could fully process these changes, her expression suddenly sharpened. Through her connection to the dungeon, she sensed an unmistakable disturbance. "There are intruders!" she announced, her newly restored ears twitching with alertness.


    ¡­


    Marcus tensed at Xiao Yue¡¯s warning, his grip tightening on his sword. "What?" The news caught him completely off guard ¨C this dungeon wasn¡¯t supposed to be discovered for at least a few more years. His mind raced through possibilities as he positioned himself defensively near the cave entrance.


    Could it be that someone found the dungeon earlier but kept it secret? The thought crystallized, making more sense the longer he considered it. After all, discovering someone claiming to be the princess of the extinct fox clan would be an extraordinary find ¨C one that an unscrupulous discoverer might want to keep private. It would certainly explain why he¡¯d never heard of the fox princess¡¯s discovery in his previous life. Such a monumental finding should have sent shockwaves through the world, yet history recorded nothing of it.


    His jaw clenched as the pieces fell into place. Someone must have found her first and taken her before the dungeon was officially registered. The implications were troubling, suggesting that the timeline he knew might be less reliable than he¡¯d assumed.


    Footsteps echoed through the cavern, accompanied by voices speaking in the empire¡¯s tongue. Three figures emerged from the shadows: two men and a woman, even though they were trying their best to hide it, anyone who saw them would definitely recognize them clearly as imperial citizens.


    ¡ºWhat do you think is in there?¡» Akira¡¯s excited voice bounced off the cave walls, his wire-rimmed glasses catching what little light filtered through.


    Ruohan¡¯s response dripped with skepticism, ¡ºProbably nothing good.¡» Her elaborate white robes seemed oddly pristine despite their journey through the cave system.


    Akira turned to argue, but Min-jae stepped between them, his massive frame dwarfing his companions. ¡ºNow now, let¡¯s not fight against ourselves...¡» His diplomatic tone trailed off as he registered the scene before him.


    His eyes swept past Marcus¡¯s combat-ready stance, fixating instead on Xiao Yue¡¯s distinctive features. A broad grin split his face as he shouted in gleeful recognition, ¡ºIt¡¯s a fox girl! Hahaha! We¡¯re rich!¡»

 Chapter 60 - 1 v 3

    Marcus studied the three figures before him, his eyes narrowing as he recognized their distinctive accents. "Xian Language?" he questioned, deliberately positioning himself between them and Xiao Yue. His voice carried a sharp edge as he continued, "What are the dogs from the empire doing here?"


    Min-jae¡¯s face darkened at the insult, switching smoothly to common tongue. "Who are you calling dogs, white boy?"


    "Oh? You can actually speak common?" Marcus¡¯s tone dripped with mock surprise. "Are you spies?"


    Akira raised his hands in a placating gesture, words tumbling out hastily. "Spies? What? We¡¯re merchants, what are you talking about?" His nervous energy betrayed his attempt at casualness.


    Ruohan¡¯s voice cut through the tension as she addressed her companions in Xian, ¡ºWhat¡¯s the point in explaining? No one knows what happens inside a dungeon, so we can just kill him and take the fox.¡»


    ¡ºAh! You¡¯re right!¡» Akira quickly backed away from his companions, his intelligence-type nature making him instinctively seek safer ground.


    Marcus observed their exchange, unable to understand their words but reading their hostile intent clearly. Drawing from his memories of the future war, he recalled phrases commonly shouted by Xian soldiers. With deliberate pronunciation, he declared, ¡ºYou have eyes but can¡¯t see Mount Tai.¡»


    "Are you making fun of me?" Ruohan¡¯s eyes flashed dangerously.


    Marcus shook his head, a hint of amusement crossing his features. "Not that? How about this?" He launched into another remembered phrase, ¡ºYou dare not give this senior face? Destroy your cultivation and kowtow three times, and maybe I¡¯ll leave your corpse intact.¡»


    ¡ºCourting death!¡» Ruohan¡¯s scream echoed through the cavern as she yanked the ornate pin from her hair. The accessory transformed mid-motion into a gleaming wand, releasing a massive fireball that illuminated the dim cave with deadly light.


    Marcus had anticipated this reaction. His blade moved with practiced precision, cleaving through the magical flames as he charged forward. Ruohan¡¯s eyes widened in shock as she realized her vulnerability ¨C her support-type abilities left her ill-equipped for close combat. Marcus closed the distance with frightening speed, his sword aimed for a killing blow.


    Dammit! Ruohan¡¯s mind raced as she recognized his strategy. He had deliberately provoked them, waiting for her to make the first move before launching his counterattack. "What a scheming bastard," she thought as death approached in the form of his sword tip.


    At the last possible moment, Min-jae¡¯s massive form blurred into motion. He yanked Ruohan aside like she weighed nothing, saving her from certain death. But Marcus didn¡¯t break stride ¨C she had never been his true target.


    Years of battle experience had taught Marcus one crucial lesson: in group combat, always aim for the healer, but if there is an intelligence-type around, eliminate the intelligence-type first. Though physically weakest, they controlled the flow of battle through strategy and coordination. Their vulnerability meant they required constant protection from their tank, but what would happen if that tank was busy protecting their mage? This was a common flaw in the basic party of three.


    Min-jae and Ruohan¡¯s eyes widened in horrified realization. ¡ºAkira!¡» Their synchronized shout came too late as Marcus¡¯s blade found its mark, piercing through Akira and pinning him to the cave wall with lethal precision.


    Blood trickled down the steel as Akira stared at the sword piercing his abdomen, disbelief written across his features. ¡º¤¨,¤¨,¤¨©`¡» The sound escaped his lips in a final, shocked whisper.


    ¡­


    Marcus¡¯s first successful strike instantly transformed the cavern into a scene of chaos. ¡ºAkira! Noooo!¡» The synchronized shouts of Ruohan and Min-jae echoed off the stone walls as they launched their desperate counterattack.


    Having embedded his blade deep enough to pin Akira securely to the cave wall, Marcus found himself momentarily vulnerable as he struggled to withdraw his weapon. His combat instincts screamed warnings of incoming danger ¨C Min-jae¡¯s massive form charging from behind like an enraged bull, while magical attacks converged from both sides: a compressed fire sphere from one direction and a swirling water ball from the other.


    With his sword temporarily unavailable and attacks coming from three directions, Marcus¡¯s options seemed limited. But years of combat experience had taught him to turn disadvantages into opportunities. In a fluid motion, he used his trapped sword as a launching point, stepping onto its hilt with precise timing.


    Min-jae, seeing Marcus use the sword still impaling his companion as a platform, instinctively slowed his charge. His hesitation to risk further injury to Akira created the opening Marcus needed. Launching himself directly at the larger warrior, Marcus wrapped him in a tactical grapple, using their combined momentum and gravity to drive Min-jae into the ground.


    The impact resonated through the cavern with a sickening thud. Even through his reinforced armor, Min-jae couldn¡¯t completely suppress a cry of pain. Marcus immediately rolled away as another fireball scorched the space he¡¯d occupied moments before.


    Their coordination is impressive, Marcus noted as he analyzed their movements. Even with one member down, their teamwork showed the kind of synchronization that only came from extensive shared experience. They must be classmates or long-term party members.


    Still, he could see the gaps in their abilities. Both Ruohan and Akira were D-rank, while Min-jae, though recently advanced to C-rank like Marcus himself, lacked the combat wisdom that came from living two lives.


    Observing Ruohan attempting to replenish her depleted mana and Min-jae struggling to regain his feet, Marcus couldn¡¯t help but think wryly, "I seem to be losing my sword often lately." Without hesitation, he launched into action.


    Moving with practiced efficiency, he reached Min-jae first. Before the warrior could fully stand, Marcus grabbed his head and drove it into the ground with calculated force, rendering him unconscious. In the same fluid movement, he evaded another incoming fireball and closed the distance to Ruohan.


    The mage¡¯s eyes widened in shock as she found herself face-to-face with her opponent, her half-formed spell dying on her lips. Marcus seized her head and slammed it against the cave wall with precise force ¨C enough to knock her out without causing lasting damage. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From her position of safety, Xiao Yue watched the brutal efficiency of Marcus¡¯s takedowns with growing concern. "So brutal! Is he really the bearer of light?" she muttered, questioning her earlier judgment of his character.


    Marcus methodically gathered his unconscious opponents, positioning them together before retrieving his sword and carefully extracting the still-living Akira. His earlier strike had deliberately avoided vital points ¨C a calculated decision. Despite the tensions between the Kingdom and Empire, outright killing them could spark unnecessary diplomatic complications, especially given the presence of Empire exchange students at Crono Magic Academy.


    Better to take them alive, he reasoned, already calculating the contribution points he could earn by delivering them to the academy.


    A/N - We¡¯ll likely see Ambrose in tomorrow¡¯s chapter. Also, should Adelaide¡¯s father get a role? He looks somewhat capable.

 Chapter 61: I Promise

    Marcus approached Xiao Yue, dragging his three unconscious captives across the cavern floor. "Are you leaving or not?" he asked, expecting her to follow.


    Xiao Yue¡¯s expression filled with gentle resignation as she met his gaze. "Sorry to waste your efforts, but I can¡¯t leave this place," she said softly.


    "And why is that?" Marcus¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion.


    Instead of answering immediately, Xiao Yue turned her head aside, her fox ears drooping slightly. "I was only alive because I had merged with the dungeon," she explained, her voice heavy with acceptance. "Since you¡¯ve cut the chains, I can feel my connection to the dungeon fading. I¡¯m guessing I won¡¯t have much time left when it fades completely." She lifted her hand, revealing fingers that had already begun turning translucent, like delicate glass catching the dim light.


    "What?" Marcus¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation. "What if we..." He scrambled to retrieve the fallen chains, attempting to reattach them to her neck, but she gently pushed his hands away.


    "No need! I¡¯ve already lived long enough," she insisted, pressing the ancient scroll firmly into his hands. "I have no regrets as long as you promise to save my people."


    Marcus stood frozen, watching helplessly as her form became increasingly transparent. Guilt weighed heavily on his chest ¨C if he hadn¡¯t cut those chains... But Xiao Yue merely smiled at his troubled expression.


    "No need to feel so guilty," she assured him. "Actually, the dungeons aren¡¯t our friends. It would have swallowed me sooner or later, so thank you for freeing me from such a fate." Her body was now nearly half-transparent, like morning mist dissipating in sunlight.


    Her expression grew earnest as she asked, "You promise, right?"


    "I promise!" Marcus declared without hesitation.


    Tears rolled down her cheeks as she smiled, but her expression quickly turned serious. She removed the collar from around her neck, holding it out to him. "Take this. Although it isn¡¯t really a powerful treasure, it¡¯s the only reward I can give you."


    Her voice took on new urgency. "You should go now. Although I¡¯ve lost connection, I¡¯m also half of the dungeon, so if I die..." She left the implications unspoken, but Marcus understood immediately. The dungeon would collapse, potentially trapping him across time and space.


    With a respectful bow to the fox princess, Marcus gathered his captives and sprinted toward the exit as the cavern walls began to crack, debris raining down around him.


    Alone in the crumbling cave, Xiao Yue stood with her nearly transparent body slowly cracking like fine china. She gazed down at herself, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. "I wonder if you are still alive, Hero Rothschild," she whispered. Her smile widened slightly as another thought struck her. "If you aren¡¯t, doesn¡¯t that mean I lived longer than you?"


    Tears streamed down her face as she collapsed to her knees. "Fucking liar!" she screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "Can¡¯t you just keep a single promise?"


    Her last words came out as barely a whisper, "If only... if only..." But time had finally caught up with her. Her form shattered like crystal, leaving nothing but dust that vanished beneath the avalanche of falling debris, burying a millennium of solitude and broken promises beneath the collapsing dungeon.


    ¡­


    Marcus emerged from the dungeon portal, the three unconscious empire spies bundled together in his grip. He turned to watch as the portal began to destabilize, its ethereal surface twisting and distorting like a reflection in troubled water. The magical gateway convulsed violently, its edges wavering and contracting with increasing speed until, in a matter of seconds, it collapsed in on itself and vanished ¨C as if it had never existed at all.


    Standing in the now-ordinary forest clearing, Marcus¡¯s fingers tightened around Xiao Yue¡¯s collar and the ancient scroll. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he contemplated the unexpected turns his simple mission had taken. Though meeting the fox princess hadn¡¯t been part of his plan, he had still accomplished his primary objective of securing a gift for Ambrose. The additional intelligence about the fox clan¡¯s survivors was an unexpected bonus.


    His gaze shifted to his captives, their unconscious forms bound together in what looked like a somewhat undignified human sphere. Despite their status as empire spies, Marcus couldn¡¯t bring himself to simply drag them through the forest. The thought of waking them crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it ¨C conscious prisoners were always more troublesome than unconscious ones.


    With another resigned sigh, he hoisted the bound trio onto his back. The arrangement wasn¡¯t elegant, but it would keep them alive, and that was what mattered. Without a backward glance, Marcus started his journey back through the forest, eager to return before Ambrose regained consciousness.


    As his footsteps faded into the distance, a new figure materialized in the clearing. Small in stature and dressed entirely in black, they wore a rat mask that concealed all identifying features. Despite their unimposing size, the figure radiated an aura that would make even hardened warriors think twice about approaching.


    "It¡¯s exactly as Sir Dragon predicted," the figure spoke, their voice surprisingly youthful though impossible to gender. "They really were captured!"


    Their masked face turned toward the spot where the dungeon portal had been, head tilting slightly in curiosity. "But why did the dungeon disappear? Could it be..." They began to speculate but quickly caught themselves. "Never mind, what has it got to do with me?"


    With that dismissive self-admonishment, the mysterious figure vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, leaving the clearing empty save for the whisper of wind through the trees and the lingering questions their presence had raised. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡­


    In the aftermath of battle, the once-pristine clearing bore deep scars of violence. Broken carriages lay scattered like discarded toys, their splintered remains telling silent tales of the day before¡¯s conflict. Through this scene of destruction walked Maximilian, his thoughts heavy with the weight of recent revelations.


    Just yesterday, the shocking discovery in Sebastian¡¯s quarters had left him reeling. He¡¯d waited at the estate, expecting both sons to return, prepared to deliver the stern lecture they desperately needed. But as hours stretched into evening, only Theodore had come back. Rather than confront his youngest immediately, Maximilian had continued his vigil, hoping that Sebastian would eventually appear.


    Word had reached him of his sons pursuing Adelaide, yet morning brought news that his daughter had safely reached the academy. The pieces didn¡¯t align - if both Adelaide and Theodore were accounted for, what had become of Sebastian? This uncertainty had driven him to slip away from the estate, following the trail his children had left behind.


    The clearing told a stark story of combat. Deep gouges scarred the earth, while scattered debris spoke of magical combat and physical violence. Maximilian¡¯s eyes caught something in the distance - a dark form lying motionless in the distance. His feet carried him forward with growing dread, each step feeling heavier than the last.


    Nothing could have prepared him for what he found. The face was unmistakably Sebastian¡¯s, but the rest... Grey, corrupted flesh marked him as something inhuman - a demonoid. His firstborn son lay dead, transformed into the very thing humanity feared most.


    Maximilian¡¯s mind pieced together a grim narrative: His sons had pursued Adelaide, but she¡¯d had protection. Sebastian, perhaps desperate or corrupted, had transformed into a demonoid. The battle had ended in his defeat, and Theodore, seeing the tide turn, had switched allegiances to save himself.


    Despite the horror of Sebastian¡¯s transformation, paternal instinct won out. Maximilian couldn¡¯t bear to leave his son¡¯s body to rot in the open, yet he couldn¡¯t risk burying a demonoid near home - such a discovery would bring catastrophe upon their house. With heavy steps, he carried Sebastian¡¯s body deeper into the forest.


    He gathered wood methodically, building a pyre with careful precision. When the stack reached proper height, he placed Sebastian¡¯s body atop it and set it ablaze. Drawing a cigar from his pocket, he lit it from the same flames that would consume his son. As he sat watching the fire climb higher, smoke from both sources mingled in the darkening sky.


    When the flames finally died down, Maximilian moved to collect what remained. But as he sifted through the ashes, movement caught his eye. Something impossible - a creature, surviving the intense heat. His surprise turned to shock as it spoke, its voice carrying an otherworldly resonance:


    "Do you want revenge? Do you want power?" The creature¡¯s words seemed to echo in his mind. "Take me- take me and I¡¯ll give you power."


    A/N - What path do you think we should take for the rich guy: A - Villain, B - Vigilante

 Chapter 62: Finally Awake

    Once again, Ambrose found himself suspended in the familiar murky void. The darkness here felt thicker than his previous visits, confirming his theory that each journey began deeper than the last. Despite the oppressive gloom, he remained calm ¨C he knew the white expanse awaited above, and soon enough, the darkness gave way to that infinite white space.


    As his surroundings stabilized, Ambrose noticed something unusual. Unlike previous occasions, he wasn¡¯t immediately drawn back to consciousness. This presented an intriguing opportunity ¨C a chance to explore this mysterious realm that existed either within his mind or as something entirely separate. The prospect of uncovering its secrets filled him with scholarly excitement.


    With no distinguishing features to guide him, Ambrose chose a random direction and began walking. He maintained razor-sharp focus, his Observer¡¯s Intuition working overtime to catch any subtle changes or anomalies in the seemingly endless white expanse. His patience was eventually rewarded when the soft sound of footsteps reached his ears.


    Following the sound with determined precision, Ambrose pressed forward until the footsteps became crystal clear. Suddenly, like a painting being revealed beneath layers of white paint, the white expanse transformed. The sterile whiteness gave way to a breathtaking landscape of lush greenery and vibrant flowers, centered around a magnificent mansion.


    In front of the grand structure, a young boy practiced swordplay with meticulous dedication. The boy¡¯s appearance gave Ambrose pause ¨C it was like looking at a younger version of himself. He watched as the boy practiced, each swing of the sword flowed into the next with perfect rhythm, the movements precise and unwavering. Ambrose watched, transfixed by the display of discipline that seemed at odds with the boy¡¯s youthful appearance


    As he watched the boy¡¯s disciplined practice, Ambrose wondered if this boy was connected to the mysterious person he¡¯d encountered before in this place. A voice answered his unspoken question as if reading his thoughts.


    "That¡¯s right, I don¡¯t know which one you saw, but they¡¯re probably the same person," the voice remarked. Ambrose spun around, startled not by the fact that the speaker was able to approach him without him realizing it, but by the familiar timbre of their voice. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the figure before him.


    "Mom?" he blurted out, though uncertainty colored his voice. The woman before him bore a striking resemblance to Victoria Rothschild, yet her demeanor was completely different. Where his mother was known for her passionate outbursts, this woman radiated serene refinement.


    A melodious laugh answered his confusion. "You¡¯ve mixed up the seniority," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Call me grandma instead."


    Ambrose¡¯s mind raced at the implication. "The war goddess?" He wondered, he had read some books about the war goddess Celestia Lancaster; she could even be considered the greatest hero of the current era.


    She laughed again, affectionately ruffling his hair. "Just grandma is fine. That title is rather embarrassing." Ambrose looked at her suspiciously, it was the second time she had done that now. Just how was she doing that? Did she have some sort of mind reading ability? But before his thoughts could spiral even further, she interjected, "No, I¡¯m not reading your thoughts. I just know what you¡¯re going to say."


    "Isn¡¯t that the same thing?" Ambrose questioned, drawing a contemplative response from her: "Is it?"


    Deciding to pursue more pressing matters, Ambrose gestured toward the practicing boy. "You said they were the same person. Am I connected to them somehow? Is that figure I met before a future version of me? Is this one a younger version? Or perhaps from a different timeline? It could also be..." His theoretical speculations were cut short by Celestia¡¯s amused laughter.


    "Such a vivid imagination," she remarked, "but no, you two are different. That¡¯s your ancestor ¨C the Hero Rothschild himself. Now that I think about it, you two do indeed look quite similar"


    Just as this revelation landed, Ambrose felt the familiar pull of consciousness tugging at him. Realizing his time was short, he hurriedly asked, "But isn¡¯t he supposed to be dead? And you too! How are you here? What is this place?" Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Celestia¡¯s response came with an enigmatic smile. "I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying right now. My information ends at the previous question you asked." She raised her index finger to tap her temple meaningfully. "But all the answers are up here. You don¡¯t need to be smart to know ¨C you just need to think faster."


    Before Ambrose could probe further, consciousness yanked him away from the mysterious space, pulling him back to his physical form.


    ¡­


    Inside the sprawling estate granted by the academy principal, a peculiar sight dominated one of the larger chambers. At its center stood a transparent crystal structure that resembled an ornate coffin, within which lay the unconscious form of Ambrose Rothschild. Minghua had positioned herself atop the crystalline surface, peering down at her young master through the transparent barrier.


    The crystal enclosure had been her solution to prevent accidental exposure to Ambrose¡¯s charm effect, though its effectiveness proved questionable. Curiously, while Hualing remained susceptible to the charm whenever she controlled their shared body, Minghua seemed immune. This disparity led her to wonder if willpower played a role in resistance, though such theoretical musings took a backseat to more pressing concerns.


    Her primary worry remained Ambrose¡¯s blood loss. His already pale complexion had grown even more alarming, taking on an almost translucent quality. Yet paradoxically, his vital signs remained stable ¨C unchanged from his baseline readings before the incident. This contradiction puzzled her; if his condition was stable, why wouldn¡¯t he wake?


    A knock at the door interrupted her contemplation, drawing an exasperated sigh. "These people again," she muttered, rising to address what she assumed would be another unwelcome visitor. Reaching the door, she launched into her now-practiced speech:


    "How many times must I tell you that the young master doesn¡¯t need treatment from the academy¡¯s doctors? Do you realize you¡¯re trespassing on private property? Now that the Rothschild heir resides here, this estate holds the same status as Rothschild territory. As a knight of House Rothschild, I have full authority to enforce our laws here. According to Rothschild household law, I¡¯m permitted to cut down anyone who trespasses in the young master¡¯s private quarters without permission. So... how would you prefer to die?"


    Her threatening monologue cut short when she recognized Marcus standing nervously before her, rather than the persistent academy physicians. "Umm, can I see the young master?" he asked hesitantly, clearly caught off guard by her aggressive welcome. He hadn¡¯t anticipated such hostility when deciding to visit Ambrose, it had been two days since he¡¯d captured the spies from the empire, making it exactly one week since the dungeon incident.


    "Oh, it¡¯s you," Minghua¡¯s tone softened slightly. "The young master hasn¡¯t yet awa¡ª" A sudden sound from within the chamber interrupted her response. As she whirled toward the noise, her eyes widened in surprise. "The young master has awoken!" she exclaimed, joy and relief flooding her voice.

 Chapter 63: Dev Log

    Consciousness returned to Ambrose gradually, his mind emerging from the depths of that mysterious white space. As his awareness sharpened, a familiar translucent interface materialized before his eyes:


    [System Upgrading 99% Complete]


    The sight brought an unexpected realization ¨C he had almost forgotten about the system¡¯s existence during his time in that murky void. Now he understood why: it had been undergoing an upgrade this entire time.


    [Upgrade Complete!]


    [v0.1.1 Changelog]


    "Just skip!" Ambrose commanded, already anticipating the system¡¯s tendency toward unnecessary verbosity. But true to its contrary nature, the system continued its detailed exposition:


    [Changelog:


    - Fixed critical species classification bug (oops, this was actually important)


    - Fixed "physic" to "physique" because apparently someone can¡¯t spell


    - Updated translations (nobody reads these anyway)


    - Removed useless physical stats because watching you stare at those zeros was getting depressing


    - Optimized irrelevant background processes (like your dreams of becoming physically stronger)


    - Added new features that you¡¯ll probably never discover


    - Fixed some bugs (they weren¡¯t actually bugs, I just didn¡¯t like how they looked)


    - Improved system efficiency by 0.0001% (you¡¯re welcome)


    - Removed Herobrine


    Contributors:


    [REDACTED]


    [STILL REDACTED]


    [WHY ARE YOU LOOKING HERE?]


    [SERIOUSLY, STOP]


    Note: This update is mandatory and cant be undone. You are advised to backup your data before upgrading, previous version data has been deleted because keeping it around was just sad.]


    The notification flickered briefly before displaying his updated status:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Half-Spirit]


    [Physique: Weak Body (Level 0) (Still can¡¯t increase physical stats, stop asking)] S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Title: Rothschild¡¯s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through Space & Time (Space-time Talent), One who gazes (+10 Intelligence)]


    [Talent: Mind¡¯s Eye - Semi Awakened, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100]


    [Mental Strength: 250/250]


    [Intelligence: 125]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Tip: You don¡¯t need to be smarter - you just need to think faster]


    [Overview: Look at how much cleaner this is without those pathetic physical stats! Now you can focus on what you¡¯re actually good at... if anything. Wait a minute... if your mom is half-spirit and your dad is human, shouldn¡¯t you be quarter-spirit? ...You know what, never mind. Why do I even bother trying to make sense of your existence?]


    Ambrose studied the messages with analytical precision, noting the system¡¯s peculiar logic in suggesting data backup for an automatic process that happened without his consent. However, one revelation caught his attention ¨C his newly confirmed status as a Half-Spirit. The classification raised intriguing questions that mirrored the system¡¯s own confusion: How could a half-spirit parent produce another half-spirit offspring? Had his father been deceived? He quickly dismissed these troubling thoughts, choosing instead to focus on the practical implications of his updated status.


    The removal of his physical stats seemed inconsequential ¨C they had been little more than a reminder of his limitations anyway. More interesting was the new "Level 0" designation attached to his Weak Body physique. Did this suggest potential for advancement? The mechanics of such progression remained tantalizingly unclear.


    The system¡¯s final "tip" drew a wry smile from Ambrose. "Isn¡¯t this what grandma just told me?" he mused, wondering if the system could freely appropriate wisdom from others without concern for intellectual property rights. Did concepts like copyright even exist in this realm?


    System: (?_? )


    Before he could pursue that line of thought further, a new notification demanded his attention:


    [Detected change in the user¡¯s physique]


    ¡­


    A new notification materialized before Ambrose¡¯s eyes:


    [Ding! You have grown even weaker]


    [Weak Body Physique has upgraded to Level 1]


    Ambrose stared at the messages in disbelief. How could he have grown weaker? Before he could fully process this, more notifications appeared:


    [Ding! You have unlocked the Natural Skill: Fragile Beauty]


    [Due to lack of stamina, the skill will be forcefully awakened!]


    "Wait what? Who is maintaining this shit? What bug fixes? It still does this..." Ambrose¡¯s protest was cut short by the system¡¯s unexpected response:


    [I¡¯m just joking, no need to be so serious]


    Ambrose fell silent, studying the notification with increased interest. While the system had always displayed signs of sentience, this direct interaction was unexpected. It could even make unfunny jokes. Was this enhanced personality a result of the recent upgrade? He wondered if future updates would continue this trend toward greater consciousness.


    A thought struck him, prompting a calculated query: "Do I get compensation for when the system was down?"


    Silence.


    "Don¡¯t want to talk now?" he pressed, met with continued quiet.


    "Hmph! What a rip off!" he thought, mentally comparing the system¡¯s stinginess to other familiar systems. Even G*nshin provided compensation for their updates.


    System: ...


    Turning his attention to more practical matters, Ambrose contemplated the newly acquired "Natural" skill classification. His understanding of skill types had been fairly comprehensive until now ¨C Intrinsic skills typically stemmed from talents, while Unique skills developed through personal growth or talent synergy, like his Mathematician skill emerging from increased intelligence while complementing his observation and time talents. Ultimate skills, as their name suggested, represented the pinnacle of power, this was what he thought since the system never told him anything. But "Natural" skills? This was new territory.


    With characteristic thoroughness, he pulled up his status window for a closer examination:


    [Name: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Level: 1]


    [Species: Half-Spirit]


    [Physique: Weak Body (Level 1) (Still can¡¯t increase physical stats, stop asking)]


    [Title: Rothschild¡¯s Heir (+10 Charm), One who leapt through Space & Time (Space-time Talent), One who gazes (+10 Intelligence)]


    [Talent: Mind¡¯s Eye - Semi Awakened, Space-time]


    [Health: 100/100]


    [Mental Strength: 250/250]


    [Intelligence: 125]


    [Stat Points: 0]


    [Experience: 0/10]


    [Tip: "You don¡¯t need to be smarter - you just need to think faster." - War Goddess Celestia]


    [Overview: You actually managed to make yourself even weaker? Then again, that¡¯s to be expected of you...]


    Skills:


    [Observer¡¯s Intuition - Transcended](Intrinsic)


    [Mathematician](Unique)


    [Spatial Dominion - Semi-Awakened](Intrinsic)


    [Lord¡¯s Covenant](Unique)


    [Fragile Beauty - Level 1](Natural) - A deceptive natural trait born from extreme physical weakness. This innate characteristic turns the user¡¯s apparent frailty into a powerful defensive mechanism, unconsciously affecting those around them. (Subskills: [Vulnerable Charm](SSS))


    [Vulnerable Charm](SSS) - A potent psychological effect that unconsciously triggers in those who witness the user¡¯s apparent weakness or vulnerability. Similar to how predators become inexplicably captivated by an injured prey¡¯s struggles, observers become entranced by the user¡¯s fragility. This charm effect is particularly powerful when the user is in genuinely vulnerable situations (injured, ill, or physically exhausted). Those affected experience an overwhelming urge to protect rather than harm the user, often acting against their original intentions. The effect is strongest against those who initially perceived the user as an easy target, making it an incredibly effective defense against opportunistic attackers. Even those who resist the charm effect often find their aggressive intentions dulled or hesitant to cause serious harm. However, the effect weakens significantly against those who already know about this ability or those with exceptionally strong wills. The ability also has reduced effectiveness when the user attempts to deliberately appear vulnerable, working best in genuine moments of weakness.


    "I ain¡¯t reading allat"


    A/N - TLDR: This is the explanation for the "I want it" bs

 Chapter 64: It Looks Cute

    Ambrose couldn¡¯t help but smile at the system¡¯s unexpected display of academic integrity, properly citing his grandmother¡¯s words. Now he could consider himself a filial grandson for protecting his grandmother¡¯s intellectual property.1


    His amusement quickly faded as he studied his newly acquired skill with growing concern. The name "Fragile Beauty" and its description gave him pause ¨C while using charm as a defensive mechanism seemed clever in theory, he couldn¡¯t help but consider the darker implications. Yes, the charmed wouldn¡¯t attack him directly, but their "protection" might prove far worse when he was vulnerable.


    "I¡¯ll need to be more careful about how I appear," he mused, realizing that seeming too vulnerable could invite unwanted attention of an entirely different nature. What would he do if someone "attacked" him?


    Having finished processing the system notifications, Ambrose finally took stock of his surroundings. He had been feeling quite comfortable fo a while now but he hadn¡¯t noticed where he was. He found himself enclosed in what appeared to be a glass structure, his reflection revealing an almost ghostly pallor ¨C somehow even more pronounced than his usual fair complexion. Through the glass walls, he could hear what sounded like Hualing¡¯s voice, but he couldn¡¯t locate any obvious exit.


    The comfortable environment suddenly felt oppressive as a disturbing thought struck him. "Did they think I was dead?" he wondered, taking in the coffin-like structure. "Have I been asleep so long they decided to bury me?"


    With his limited strength, he managed a gentle knock against the glass, not expecting much response ¨C after all, with his frail constitution, he risked injuring himself if he knocked any harder. To his surprise, the sound of hurried footsteps immediately followed, and the structure¡¯s top swung open, revealing not a grave but a familiar room in his estate.


    "Young Master, you¡¯re awake!" Hualing exclaimed, rushing forward. Ambrose instinctively backed away, raising his hands defensively.


    "Don¡¯t touch me!" he warned, maintaining his distance. "Why did you put me in this?"


    "Um- Well-" Hualing stammered, her eyes darting about as if searching for the right words. "It¡¯s to prevent the effect! Yeah, that¡¯s it!"


    "What effect?" Ambrose wondered aloud, examining the glass enclosure more carefully. Understanding dawned as he realized its intended purpose. "Oh! The charm effect." He found himself wondering if Hualing¡¯s ancestor had devised this solution.


    "It¡¯s a good idea," he admitted, "but you built it wrong. It¡¯s a one-way mirror with the non-transparent side facing inward," he explained, noting how clearly visible the interior was from outside. "What¡¯s the point if people can still see the person inside?"


    Inside Hualing¡¯s consciousness, Minghua facepalmed at her obvious oversight. "So thats why it wasn¡¯t working"


    Turning his attention to Marcus, who stood nearby, Ambrose activated his Mind¡¯s Eye skill, revealing his companion¡¯s updated status window: sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Name: Marcus Turner]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Sword Intent (Top Level)]


    [Authority: Light Fragment (Virtue: Kindness)]


    [Health: 4000/4000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 40]


    [Stamina: 40]


    [Agility: 45]


    ¡­


    Ambrose studied Marcus¡¯s status display with a mixture of pride and melancholy. "As expected of the main character," he mused silently. "I was merely unconscious for a short while, yet he¡¯s already advanced so significantly." Though their acquaintance was relatively brief, Ambrose felt like a parent watching their child grow ¨C along with the bittersweet knowledge that it wouldn¡¯t be long before Marcus spread his wings and flew from the nest. The sentiment caught him off guard with its unexpected intensity.


    "What brings you here?" Ambrose asked, noticing Marcus¡¯s nervous demeanor under his contemplative gaze.


    Marcus cleared his throat awkwardly, extending his hand toward Ambrose. "I came to see if the young master¡¯s condition had improved," he explained, presenting the collar he¡¯d been holding. Thankfully, the item was light enough for Ambrose¡¯s frail constitution to manage. Ambrose examined it carefully, waiting for further explanation.


    A slight blush colored Marcus¡¯s cheeks as he elaborated, "Thi-this is a treasure I found. T-To thank you for saving me in the dungeon." He added in what he thought was an undertone, though Ambrose¡¯s keen hearing caught it clearly, "both times."


    Ambrose¡¯s lips curved into a warm smile. "You actually brought me a treasure," he thought. "It seems all those embarrassing things I said weren¡¯t in vain." Coming from a regressor, he was certain this must be something truly valuable ¨C likely something even his family¡¯s vast influence couldn¡¯t easily acquire, at least not at present. He suspected Marcus had raided an unregistered dungeon to obtain it, and the thought touched him deeply. "To go to such lengths for me... I raised you well," he thought with pride.


    Lifting the collar, Ambrose found himself puzzling over its mechanism. He glanced at Hualing, who seemed to be experiencing a complete neural shutdown at the moment, then turned back to Marcus with an expectant look.


    Marcus fidgeted nervously, interpreting Ambrose¡¯s silence as disappointment. His anxiety mounted until Ambrose extended the collar back to him with a simple request: "Help me put it on."


    Relief flooded through Marcus. The young master wasn¡¯t disappointed ¨C he simply didn¡¯t know how to wear it. The realization made him smile internally; for someone who typically appeared as if he knows everything, to the point of making Marcus himself nervous, Ambrose could be surprisingly endearing in moments like this.


    Moving closer, Marcus carefully opened the collar and brought it toward Ambrose¡¯s neck. Just as it was about to make contact, the item suddenly animated, practically leaping from his hands to wrap itself around Ambrose¡¯s neck. Before he could react, Hualing had him pinned to the ground with frightening speed.


    "What did you do?" she demanded, but Ambrose¡¯s calm voice interrupted any further action.


    "It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m fine," he assured them. The bulky collar had transformed into an elegant dark choker that seemed to meld with his skin. Although it looked quite tight, it was far from being uncomfortable, it felt natural, as if it had always been a part of him.


    Approaching the large mirror in the closet, Ambrose examined his reflection with interest, Hualing and Marcus following close behind. "It looks quite cute," he declared, admiring the accessory.


    Marcus watched him with fond exasperation. "As expected of the young master," he thought, "he just cares about how it looks."


    As Ambrose tilted his head to examine the choker from various angles, a thought struck him ¨C this was a gift from a regressor, which meant it must possess hidden properties. Without hesitation, he activated his Mind¡¯s Eye skill to uncover its true nature...


    A/N - If you haven¡¯t gotten it yet, this is about those who are pirating the novel lol (ig its good that my work is gaining recognition, am I even allowed to say that?) anyway¡­

 Chapter 65: Weakest Set

    Ambrose studied the system display that materialized before him, revealing the collar¡¯s true nature: S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Name: Echo Collar???]


    [Level: B???]


    [Set: Weakest(1/6)]


    [Description: Originally created for beast tribe warriors lacking physical might, this artifact harnesses mental strength to temporarily overcome bodily limitations. Converts mental energy into physical enhancement at a 10:1 ratio, allowing even the weakest body to briefly manifest considerable strength. Though recordings of its early uses have been lost to time, legends suggest it was instrumental in allowing scholarly beast tribe leaders to prove their worth through ritual combat. The artifact¡¯s ability to empower those with high mental capabilities but low physical strength made it highly sought after, though its whereabouts became unknown during the last war. Warning: Extended use can rapidly deplete mental reserves, potentially leaving the user vulnerable to both physical and mental exhaustion.]


    His eyes widened with fascination. The ability to convert mental strength into physical power was unprecedented in his experience. Though the 10:1 conversion ratio seemed steep ¨C almost prohibitively so for most practitioners ¨C it held unique promise for someone in his position. Without hesitation, he attempted to channel his mental strength into the choker, eager to test its capabilities.


    The system¡¯s response was immediate and pointed:


    [Physique: Weak Body (CAN¡¯T increase physical stats in ANY way)]


    A quiet laugh escaped his lips as he observed the system¡¯s deliberately emphasized warning. He had anticipated this outcome, yet felt no disappointment. His analytical mind had already moved beyond the surface functionality, focusing instead on more intriguing details ¨C specifically, the question marks in the item¡¯s name and rank. Such cryptic elements typically indicated hidden potential, suggesting this wasn¡¯t the artifact¡¯s final form.


    Even more compelling was the set designation: "Weakest (1/6)." The implications sent his thoughts racing. A set of six pieces, all sharing this peculiar designation, "weakest" ¨C it seemed almost too perfectly aligned with his circumstances. He had the weak body physique, thus he was the "weakest". It was practically begging him to take it. Could this be more than mere coincidence? Perhaps these artifacts were left behind by a predecessor who shared his physical limitations, someone who had discovered a way to overcome the Weak Body physique.


    His mind constructed theoretical models of the remaining pieces. The Echo Collar around his neck would likely be complemented by matching accessories: Echo Bracelets for the wrists, Echo Greaves for the legs. The final piece ¨C possibly some form of core component to complete the circuit ¨C remained more mysterious in his mental blueprint, but he tentatively labeled it the Echo Core.


    Studying his reflection in the mirror, Ambrose¡¯s lips curved into a satisfied smile. Though Marcus had likely known only of the collar¡¯s basic strength-conversion properties, he had inadvertently provided something far more valuable: the first piece of what might be a solution to Ambrose¡¯s fundamental limitation. With this framework established, he could begin a focused search for the remaining components, he didn¡¯t believe that with all his abilities, he couldn¡¯t find just a few treasures.


    Behind him, Marcus and Hualing exchanged puzzled glances, clearly mystified by their young master¡¯s evident satisfaction. Neither could guess at the complex theories and plans already taking shape behind his enigmatic smile.


    ¡­


    In the softly lit room, Ambrose turned to Marcus with genuine appreciation in his eyes. "Thanks, I really like it," he said warmly, his slender fingers tracing the elegant dark choker that now adorned his neck. The words carried no hint of disappointment despite the item¡¯s inability to immediately solve his physical limitations. After all, having spent his entire life constrained by weakness, the concept of physical freedom felt almost abstract ¨C like describing colors to someone who had never seen them, to him, it didn¡¯t matter if it was today or tomorrow.


    Yet the Echo Collar represented something more: the first piece of a greater puzzle, one that promised eventual liberation if he could collect all six components. There was a certain charm to this gradual approach; after all, he wouldn¡¯t be surviving the magic academy with just intelligence stats if he was so easily cured.1


    Marcus studied Ambrose¡¯s expression with growing confusion. He knew the young master possessed some sort of appraisal ability or treasure, which meant he must understand the collar¡¯s true nature. Yet Ambrose showed no inclination to test its power, despite his perpetual physical weakness. This could only mean one thing: the artifact simply didn¡¯t work. Guilt gnawed at Marcus¡¯s conscience ¨C had he offered false hope only to snatch it away? "It doesn¡¯t work?" he asked hesitantly, his voice carrying a hint of self-reproach.


    Ambrose¡¯s response came with a gentle smile. "It¡¯s okay, I still like it," he assured Marcus. Privately, he couldn¡¯t reveal that the collar¡¯s true value far exceeded Marcus¡¯s expectations. After all, if the regressor felt a touch of guilt, he might be more inclined to present another set piece as compensation should he stumble upon one. The thought brought a slight curve to Ambrose¡¯s lips as he considered the elegant simplicity of his scheme.


    However, watching Marcus¡¯s shoulders slump and his gaze drop to the floor, Ambrose realized his strategy might have overshot its mark. While a slightly guilty Marcus might prove more generous with future discoveries, a thoroughly demoralized one might abandon the search entirely. With careful deliberation, Ambrose placed a reassuring hand on Marcus¡¯s shoulder.


    "I said it¡¯s okay," he reiterated, his voice carrying a playful note. "I find it quite cute." His eyes sparkled with genuine amusement as he posed a question designed to lift the somber mood: "Don¡¯t you think it looks nice on me?"


    "I do! I think it suits you," Marcus responded with almost endearing eagerness, his earlier melancholy beginning to lift.


    "I also think it looks good on you, master!" Hualing chimed in from the sidelines, but Ambrose maintained his focus on Marcus.


    "Then it¡¯s all good," he declared with finality. When Marcus began to protest with another "but," Ambrose gently pressed his index finger against his own lips in a silencing gesture. "No buts..."


    [TO BE CONTINUED]


    A/N - ik yall thought i was scamming you

 Chapter 66: What It Means To Think Faster

    Ambrose noticed Marcus¡¯s crestfallen expression and the guilt weighing on his shoulders. With a gentle smile that masked his internal exasperation, he spoke:


    "Actually, I did feel a little change." The words had their intended effect, as Marcus¡¯s eyes lifted with renewed interest, hope beginning to replace his earlier dejection.


    The manipulation was subtle but effective, Ambrose noted with satisfaction. Sometimes the truth needed a gentle adjustment to serve a greater purpose, and seeing Marcus¡¯s spirits lift a little confirmed he¡¯d struck the right balance. He wondered if he could get some benefits if he pressed further but he quickly abandoned the idea. It was better to assure the protagonist first, as long as the regressor was motivated, he could leech off some benefits:


    "You know, I¡¯ve lived my entire life like this. Every breath, every moment defined by this weakness. And truthfully? The thought of that changing... it terrified me." Like hell it did. I¡¯ve been desperately searching for ways to overcome this since day one.


    He paused, his voice growing softer but more certain. "But when you brought me this gift, something changed. Not in my body, but in my mind. For the first time, I actually imagined what it would be like to be different. You gave me something more valuable than physical strength ¨C you gave me the courage to face that possibility." God, this is embarrassing. The things I do for this protagonist¡¯s emotional state...


    Ambrose¡¯s fingers traced the collar thoughtfully, while internally cringing at his own performance. "Even though it didn¡¯t work, I¡¯m grateful. Because now I understand ¨C I can¡¯t keep using this weakness as an excuse to do nothing, to just wait and hope. If... when the day comes that these chains break, I don¡¯t want to still be trapped by the habits of a cripple. I need to start changing now, to find my own path forward." Please let this be enough. I can¡¯t keep spouting these inspirational speeches.


    "The young master is not a cripple!" Hualing interjected. I know that already so will you just shut up! Can¡¯t you see what I¡¯m doing here? He thought but didn¡¯t dare voice it.


    He looked directly at Marcus, his eyes showing a quiet determination while his mind screamed in protest. "Will you help me with that? Not just to become stronger, but to become someone worthy of strength when it finally comes?" So corny. Someone please find this man a heroine ¨C I can¡¯t keep playing this role.


    A/N: ¡­


    To his relief, he could see the light returning to Marcus¡¯s eyes. Finally, Now please go find yourself a love interest and leave the emotional support to them. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡­


    As Ambrose delivered his heartfelt speech, Marcus found himself deeply moved, his earlier guilt transforming into something more profound. I had no idea the young master was carrying such thoughts, he reflected, studying Ambrose¡¯s delicate features with new understanding.


    Every word seemed to reshape Marcus¡¯s perception of nobility. Despite his previous revelations about Ambrose being different from other nobles, he realized he¡¯d still been viewing the young master through a simplified lens. He¡¯d seen the perfect heir, the brilliant strategist who always seemed to know exactly what to do. But now, watching Ambrose speak of his fears and determination, Marcus recognized the complexity he¡¯d overlooked.


    He always looks so perfect, so composed, Marcus thought, recalling how effortlessly Ambrose seemed to handle every situation. Yet here he is, struggling with his own battles, carrying his own burdens. The realization made the young master seem both more human and more admirable ¨C not just born to his position, but actively working to be worthy of it despite his limitations.


    A deep sense of determination welled up within Marcus. If the young master can face his weaknesses with such resolve, then I too must work harder. His earlier guilt about the collar¡¯s failure transformed into renewed purpose. The young master wasn¡¯t just someone to serve or protect ¨C he was someone to learn from.


    As he met Ambrose¡¯s steady gaze, Marcus felt his resolve crystallize. He would help the young master find this new path, not just out of pity or gratitude, but because watching Ambrose strive to overcome his limitations inspired Marcus to face his own challenges with equal courage.


    A/N - I¡¯m tired of this, let¡¯s move on


    ¡­


    Finally alone in his chamber, Ambrose sank into his reading chair with a weary sigh. The afternoon sun filtered through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. While Marcus and Hualing¡¯s devotion touched him, their intense concern had become almost suffocating. It had taken considerable effort ¨C and no small amount of verbal maneuvering ¨C to convince them he needed rest rather than constant supervision.


    His thoughts drifted to his fellow intelligence-types: Adelaide and Meihua. Marcus had updated him on Adelaide¡¯s activities, but Meihua remained something of a mystery. A thoughtful frown creased his brow as he considered his fellow transmigrator. She clearly possessed knowledge of the story unlike him. He guessed she had also been pulled into the story by the book, the only difference between them was that she had probably read the book unlike him. Her composed demeanor during the crisis suggested she might understand even more than Marcus, their resident regressor.


    He wondered if he should pay her a visit and see if he could gain some benefits, just like with Marcus. The prospect of gaining valuable information from another transmigrator was tempting, but Ambrose quickly tempered his enthusiasm with caution. Although he somewhat understood Marcus, he knew nothing of Meihua¡¯s true character or the extent of her knowledge. Although he didn¡¯t believe that the story she had read included the current version of him, he didn¡¯t want to take chances. At least not without some preparation. It was precisely this uncertainty that had stayed his hand from revealing their secrets, both Marcus and Meihua.


    His lips curved into a wry smile as he considered the psychology at play. Both regressors and transmigrators drew strength from feeling special ¨C from believing they could change fate through their unique knowledge. Breaking that illusion by revealing their secret would only breed paranoia and uncertainty. Better to let them maintain that sense of agency, that belief in their ability to shape destiny. Marcus would continue to believe in his own regression while Meihua believed in her own knowledge of the story. As for him, he¡¯d just leech off any benefits that fell off their pockets.


    A darker thought crept in: what if someone else watched him with the same calculating restraint? What if his own sense of control was merely another¡¯s careful construction? Ambrose quickly dismissed this line of thinking ¨C such metaphysical spirals would lead nowhere productive.


    Instead, he turned his attention to something that had been nagging at his mind, something he¡¯d been subconsciously avoiding until now. The system¡¯s latest tip floated before his eyes:


    [Tip: "You don¡¯t need to be smarter - you just need to think faster." - War Goddess Celestia]


    His mind circled back to his grandmother¡¯s cryptic words from their encounter. She had claimed to know what he would say without reading his mind, yet later stated she didn¡¯t know what he was saying. He wondered if she had some time manipulation powers that helped her predict the future, but that theory didn¡¯t align with her known space-type abilities, it also didn¡¯t explain why she couldn¡¯t predict his last question.


    The answer, Ambrose realized, must lie with his ancestor Rothschild, the apparent architect of the system. He is also a known time user. He theorized that Rothschild could predict what he was going to ask and gave his grandma the script, as for the last question, it was probably a secret so he didn¡¯t include it in the script. But how was Rothschild still alive, or even his grandma? Was he simply manipulating time to make them appear?


    But as he pondered Rothschild¡¯s role, a new possibility emerged ¨C one that would explain why they were still there even though they were already dead. What if the white space was a simulation? 1


    Not in the conventional sense of computers and programming, but something far more sophisticated: a simulation running on the ultimate processor ¨C Rothschild¡¯s own consciousness.


    This theory elegantly explained several mysteries. Rothschild was known as the First Hero, with his attainments in time abilities, it wouldn¡¯t be hard for him to simulate the white expanse and putting some NPCs in it, it also wouldn¡¯t be hard for him to know exactly what questions Ambrose would ask.


    The murky void where Ambrose always began could represent his own mental space, while the pristine white expanse belonged to Rothschild¡¯s more evolved consciousness. But this raised another question: how could a dead ancestor maintain such a complex simulation? Unless... perhaps Rothschild wasn¡¯t truly dead in the conventional sense.


    Ambrose¡¯s thoughts raced as he developed the theory further. Perhaps he had inherited not just the system, but a fragment of Rothschild¡¯s will itself. His grandmother¡¯s advice to "think faster" suddenly took on new meaning ¨C she wasn¡¯t talking about mere mental speed, but about elevating his own mental simulation to match Rothschild¡¯s white expanse.


    If he could raise his murky void to the same level as the white space, perhaps the two simulations would achieve some sort of resonance or balance. Such a convergence might unlock something profound ¨C immortality, transcendence, revival of the first hero, or something beyond his current comprehension. The exact nature of this potential revelation remained unclear, but the path forward crystallized in his mind: he needed to enhance his own mental processing power. In simpler terms, as his grandmother had said, he needed to think faster.


    A/N - Do you guys like it when Ambrose does these sessions where he just theorizes everything, I personally really like them. It feels like he¡¯s really alive


    A/N - Let him cook

 Chapter 67: Letter

    My dearest Ambrose,


    I hope this letter finds you well (Are you taking your medicine? The blue ones in the morning and the red ones before bed. Or was it the other way around? Just make sure to take them!). Mama has to go away for a little while, but don¡¯t worry! I¡¯ve prepared everything you might need. There are three months¡¯ worth of medicines in your spatial ring (I labeled them by day, and there are backups of the backups, just in case).


    Remember to wear your jacket when it gets cold - actually, wear it even if it¡¯s not cold. Better safe than sorry! And ALWAYS keep your blindfold on in public. I know you think you can control it now, but we can¡¯t risk anything. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    DON¡¯T trust anyone who suddenly acts nice to you! Especially girls! They¡¯re probably after our family¡¯s secrets (or worse, trying to seduce you!). If anyone suspicious approaches you, use the emergency teleportation stone I left in your second spatial ring. No, wait - the third one. I think. Just check all of them to be sure.


    If you feel even slightly unwell, go to your father IMMEDIATELY. I know he looks scary with that permanent frown, but he loves you very much. He just doesn¡¯t know how to show it (probably because his own father was a stone-faced tyrant too). Oh, and don¡¯t let him teach you any time magic yet - you¡¯re still too young, and it might conflict with your spatial abilities. If you really have to learn any magic, learn my space magic first. I have left some scrolls that I made when I was a kid, they should still be useful.


    I¡¯ve also prepared seventeen different antidotes in case someone tries to poison you. They¡¯re in the small purple pouch - or was it the blue one? The colors might have faded by now... Just drink them all if you suspect anything! Better safe than sorry!


    Stay away from Astera¡¯s daughter - that girl has her mother¡¯s cunning. And don¡¯t let Adelaide talk you into any business ventures. I know she seems mature for her age, but she¡¯s still a merchant¡¯s daughter. And absolutely NO DUNGEON EXPLORING! I don¡¯t care if everyone else is doing it. If you want to see monsters, I left you detailed drawings in the seventh spatial ring.


    Make sure to eat properly! I¡¯ve arranged for the kitchen to prepare your meals according to the 103-page dietary guide I left them. If anything tastes even slightly off, use the poison detection papers I put in your fourth spatial ring. Or was it the fifth? Check both just to be sure.


    And please, PLEASE don¡¯t try to be brave. I know you want to prove yourself, but your health comes first. If you feel tired, rest. If you feel scared, run. If you feel overwhelmed, hide. There¡¯s no shame in any of it. Your mother once flattened three noble houses because someone said my baby looked pale - so clearly, running isn¡¯t always the answer either... Maybe just use your best judgment?


    I have to go now. Remember that Mama loves you more than anything in this world or any other. Stay safe, stay healthy, and FOR HEAVEN¡¯S SAKE, KEEP YOUR BLINDFOLD ON!


    With endless love and worry,


    Your Mother


    P.S. I left emergency backup blindfolds in every spatial ring. USE THEM!


    P.P.S. Did I mention to take your medicine?


    P.P.P.S. Don¡¯t talk to strangers!


    P.P.P.P.S. Actually, just don¡¯t talk to anyone. It¡¯s safer that way.


    ¡­


    Ambrose sat at his desk, staring in disbelief at the items before him: his mother¡¯s heartfelt letter and ten identical spatial rings, all discovered within his original spatial ring. He had already heard from Adelaide about what had happened between his mother and the ten great houses. He was quite surprised, he had always felt that his parents were strong but he hadn¡¯t expected his mother to be THAT strong, to even be able to fight against the ten heads, including his dad. But what was the deal with this letter and space rings?


    His fingers traced the edge of the letter as his analytical mind wrestled with an apparent impossibility. In all the cultivation novels he¡¯d devoured during his bedridden years, one rule remained consistent: spatial treasures couldn¡¯t be stored within other spatial treasures. Yet here were ten spatial rings that had been hidden inside another. And there was another peculiarity ¨C how had his mother managed to leave these items when she¡¯d already departed for the spirit world when he was still in the dungeon? Unless...


    Without completing the thought, he activated his Mind¡¯s Eye ability, first examining the ten new rings. The status screen materialized before him, identical for each ring:


    [Name: My Precious Son¡¯s Spatial Ring (#3)]


    [Rank: S]


    [Type: Storage Artifact]


    [Space: 1000 cubic meters]


    [Owner: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Description: A spatial ring lovingly crafted by Victoria Rothschild for her beloved son. Every aspect of its construction reflects a mother¡¯s meticulous care, from the multiple backup compartments to the tripled security measures. The interior space has been carefully sectioned and labeled for different types of medicine, emergency supplies, and daily necessities. Multiple fail-safes ensure items remain perfectly preserved, while inscription work around the band reads "Stay safe, my little star" in ancient script. Despite its powerful capabilities, the ring¡¯s primary purpose is clearly to protect and provide for its young owner.]


    [Properties:


    - Instant access to stored items through mental command


    - Perfect item preservation in stasis


    - Triple-layered security against unauthorized access


    - 17 organized compartments with maternal labeling


    - Automatic item sorting by urgency


    - No weight limit within volume constraints


    - Cannot store living beings


    - Emergency alert system linked to creator]


    [Condition: Pristine]


    [Restrictions: Bloodline-locked to Ambrose Rothschild]


    After carefully analyzing each parameter, Ambrose turned his attention to his original ring ¨C the one he¡¯d received before starting at the academy. The status screen that appeared made the others seem almost mundane by comparison:


    [Name: Mother¡¯s All-Seeing Eye (#1)]


    [Rank: SSS]


    [Type: Monitoring Artifact]


    [Owner: Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Bound to: Victoria Rothschild]


    [Description: A masterwork monitoring ring created by Victoria Rothschild through combining space, time, and observation magics. Every molecule of its construction radiates maternal anxiety refined into pure magical energy. The ring maintains constant surveillance of its wearer¡¯s complete biological status with accuracy that borders on violating the laws of physics. Updates are transmitted across any distance through spatial tunneling at intervals so rapid they approach true simultaneity. The amount of mana required for its operation would bankrupt a small nation, yet Victoria considers this "basic parenting equipment."]


    [Monitoring Parameters:


    - Real-time spatial coordinates (accurate to quantum level)


    - Complete biological status (14,322 distinct metrics)


    - Blood flow patterns and composition


    - Neural activity and thought patterns


    - Emotional state analysis


    - Environmental hazard detection


    - Threat assessment of all beings within 100 meters


    - Historical tracking of all monitored parameters


    - Predictive modeling of potential future states]


    [Features:


    - Instant alert system for 7,849 predefined emergency scenarios


    - Automatic mana injection in case of energy depletion


    - Emergency teleportation trigger


    - Cannot be removed by anyone except Victoria


    - Self-repairs using ambient mana


    - Activates defensive measures if tampered with


    - Tracks and records all social interactions


    - Monitors food and medicine intake]


    [Condition: Pristine]


    [Restrictions: Permanently bound to Ambrose Rothschild]


    [Note: Creator considers current monitoring parameters "barely adequate" and plans to add more]


    Ambrose: wtf

 Chapter 68: Redoing The Exam

    Ambrose stared at the status screens in silence, he was completely at a loss for words. The so-called spatial ring he¡¯d been using wasn¡¯t a storage device at all, but rather an elaborate monitoring tool that transmitted all his information directly to his mother every instant. The sheer scope of surveillance was staggering ¨C even information he didn¡¯t know about himself was being tracked. Was there really no privacy in this world?


    "No privacy indeed," he muttered, a mix of exasperation and grudging admiration coloring his tone. Yet something still nagged at his mind. If this ring was purely for monitoring, how had he been accessing his possessions all this time? Even the letter and new rings he¡¯d just discovered had to come from somewhere.


    With methodical precision, he attempted to remove the ring from his finger. He wanted to try and see if he could still access the items even without the spatial ring but the band remained stubbornly in place, fused to his skin as if it had become part of his very being. He guessed his mother was probably the only person who could remove it.


    "Let¡¯s try something else," he mused, his mind already formulating another experiment. He remembered the feeling he always had when taking things from the spatial ring, he focused on that feeling. But rather than focusing on the ring as he usually did when retrieving items, he concentrated on a book lying on his desk. To his satisfaction, a small portal materialized exactly where he¡¯d envisioned it. With practiced ease, he retrieved his walking stick through this improvised gateway.


    As the portal sealed itself, a smile of understanding crossed his features. There had never been a spatial ring ¨C he¡¯d been accessing his items through some other means entirely. He theorized that his mother possessed a powerful inventory or spatial storage ability, one she¡¯d granted him access to while cleverly disguising her monitoring tool as the means of that access. This explained why spatial treasures like the rings could be stored inside.


    But this revelation sparked another question: why provide him with ten genuine spatial rings if he could already access this inventory system? The answer crystallized as he considered his mother¡¯s departure to the spirit world. She must have feared the possibility of their connection being severed, potentially cutting off his access to the shared storage space.


    Ambrose smiled, his mom was really caring, even though she was a bit excessive sometimes. Still, her foresight demanded action on his part. Since his mother, a spatial mage, was worried that the connection might break, he had to be careful as well:


    With efficient movements, he began redistributing his possessions. The bulk of his mother¡¯s medical supplies and what he deemed unnecessary items went into nine of the spatial rings. The tenth he reserved for items he considered genuinely useful, though he did maintain a reasonable supply of medicine ¨C he wasn¡¯t foolish enough to completely disregard his mother¡¯s concerns.


    After securing the chosen ring on the index finger of his left hand, he contemplated what to do with the others. The safest option seemed to be keeping them in his room rather than risking them in the possibly unstable inventory space. Though this meant sacrificing easy access, it ensured their contents wouldn¡¯t vanish if the connection to his mother¡¯s storage was interrupted.


    His organizational task complete, Ambrose decided to pen a response to his mother¡¯s letter. This would serve a dual purpose ¨C expressing his gratitude while testing his theory about the inventory system. However, when he attempted to access the familiar storage space to deposit his letter, he encountered an unexpected obstacle ¨C the inventory space remained stubbornly closed to his probing. He couldn¡¯t access the inventory space...


    ¡­


    Ambrose made several more attempts to access the inventory space, each ending in failure. Though he¡¯d anticipated losing the connection eventually, its sudden severance caught him off guard. With a resigned sigh, he tucked his response letter into his new spatial ring instead. It could wait.


    Moving on to more important matters: Ambrose felt that he¡¯d been in his room for too long, it was the second day since he¡¯d woken up and he felt that he should walk around to stretch a bit. He walked up to the door and slowly opened it.


    As he pulled open his chamber door, he found Hualing standing directly outside, as if she¡¯d been rooted to that spot for hours. "Master, I was just about to come find you!" she exclaimed with suspicious timing. Ambrose¡¯s keen perception had not heard the sound of approaching footsteps or any recent movement in the hallway. She¡¯d clearly been maintaining this vigil for quite some time, though he chose not to comment on this peculiar behavior.


    "What did you want to talk about?" he asked instead, beginning a leisurely walk with Hualing falling into step beside him.


    "Actually, the principal said that the entrance exam will be redone," she reported. The news caught Ambrose¡¯s attention immediately.


    "Redone? Did they find another dungeon?" he questioned, his mind already calculating possibilities.


    "No, they said that everyone who survived has already passed the test. But since there wasn¡¯t any surveillance in the last minutes of the test, they couldn¡¯t determine the ranks and which classes to assign."


    Ambrose nodded thoughtfully. The logic seemed sound ¨C they needed some way to properly evaluate and sort the students. "Then how are they going to assign the ranks?"


    "Well, they said that people will fight for it," Hualing explained.


    The directness of this solution surprised Ambrose, though he had to admit its effectiveness. Still, one crucial concern remained. "What about the support and intelligence types?" He couldn¡¯t imagine the academy overlooking such a significant portion of their student body.


    "They said that people will compete in parties of five, so I¡¯m guessing they¡¯ll be graded from their contribution to the party," she clarified.


    Feeling genuinely appreciative of her information gathering, Ambrose reached out to pat Hualing¡¯s head. "Thanks for telling me."


    "Of course, master!" she beamed, practically glowing from the simple gesture.


    Her shift in address suddenly registered in his mind. "By the way, you¡¯re not calling me ¡¯young master¡¯ anymore," he observed, noting her consistent use of just ¡¯master.¡¯ S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hualing¡¯s demeanor turned slightly nervous. "Ah! That¡¯s - that¡¯s because I¡¯m the master¡¯s knight now," she explained, fidgeting slightly.


    Ambrose looked at her in bewilderment, until the blood knight talent flashed through Ambrose¡¯s mind. "Ah, so that¡¯s it," he thought, wondering if she¡¯d been reading some questionable materials about master-knight relationships that prompted her door vigil.


    His musings were interrupted by a familiar voice echoing down the hallway: "I told you, I¡¯m not interested in joining your party." Marcus¡¯s tone carried clear frustration.


    "Stop being difficult! The young master saw your fight earlier and is impressed by your skills, you should appreciate this chance!" a female voice insisted.


    Ambrose¡¯s expression darkened as he observed the scene. "Who¡¯s this bitch trying to take my regressor from me?"

 Chapter 69: Face Slapping

    The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the academy grounds as Marcus made his way toward the estate with purposeful strides. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the academy¡¯s new entrance exam arrangements ¨C since Ambrose had only regained consciousness just the day before and had yet to leave his room, he felt compelled to share this information with him. As the party¡¯s leader, Marcus wanted to hear his thoughts and arrangements.


    His determined pace faltered as a familiar figure stepped into his path. Sarah Winters ¨C the sight of her stirred memories of a shared childhood, though those days felt like they belonged to another lifetime entirely. Now, he guessed she had probably become one of Lysander¡¯s subordinates. In his previous life, he had watched her dedication to Lysander¡¯s party transform into bitter disappointment when she was discarded even before his own expulsion. A twinge of sympathy flickered through him, remembering their former friendship, but he quickly suppressed it. The present held more pressing concerns.


    Without breaking stride, Marcus attempted to move past her, deliberately avoiding any acknowledgment. Sarah¡¯s hand shot out, catching his sleeve. "Wait!" she called, her voice carrying a note of desperation that made him pause.


    Sarah studied his profile with growing confusion. The Marcus before her seemed fundamentally different from the childhood friend she remembered ¨C the one she had been certain harbored feelings for her. His complete indifference to her presence felt jarring, almost unnatural. For a moment, she wondered if this was some elaborate act, was he playing hard to get?


    Before she could fully process these thoughts, Marcus yanked his arm free with casual dismissal, resuming his walk without a backward glance. The gesture left her momentarily stunned, but she quickly recovered, hurrying to match his pace. Whatever had caused this change in him was irrelevant ¨C she had a mission from Lysander to complete.


    Marcus¡¯s display of power in the dungeon had impressed even her. Though she had always known about his obsession with swordsmanship and his top-level talent, the skill he¡¯d demonstrated exceeded anything she could have imagined. The transformation seemed impossible for such a short time frame.


    "What do you want?" Marcus¡¯s dismissive tone cut through her musings.


    "Wha?" Caught off guard by his directness, Sarah quickly composed herself. "Never mind. Do you want to join our party? We are only one person short."


    Marcus¡¯s knowing look made her shift uncomfortably. "Lysander?" he asked, though it sounded more like a statement.


    "Yes, yes! He¡¯s the party leader," she confirmed eagerly. "He¡¯s also someone from the ten gr¡ª"


    "Not interested!" Marcus cut her off, brushing past her once again. He paused briefly, adding over his shoulder, "And I suggest you leave too." The warning carried genuine concern, though he knew better than to expect her to heed it. Her fate, like before, would be her own choice.


    Sarah watched his retreating back with mounting frustration. His newfound arrogance baffled her ¨C what had happened during their time apart to cause such a dramatic change? Had he developed some strange affectations? She pursued him once more, undeterred by his obvious dismissal.


    "I told you, I¡¯m not interested in joining your party," Marcus repeated firmly.


    Her patience finally snapped. Was this all some ploy to make her beg? Did he really think himself too good for Lysander¡¯s party? "Stop being difficult!" she snapped, her voice echoing down the road. "The young master saw your fight earlier and is impressed by your skills, you should appreciate this chance!"


    Their heated exchange carried through the road, unknowingly drawing the attention of two figures who had just emerged from the nearby gate.


    ¡­


    The scene unfolding before Ambrose and Hualing drew an immediate frown from the young noble. "Who¡¯s this bitch trying to take my regressor from me?" he wondered, his mind already categorizing this as a serious threat to his carefully assembled party dynamics. They approached the pair with measured steps, Hualing¡¯s presence radiating silent menace beside him.


    Marcus¡¯s attention immediately shifted upon noticing them, completely dismissing Sarah as he hurried toward Ambrose. "Young master, I was just about to come find you!" S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Hm, why do I feel like I¡¯ve heard this exact dialogue before?" Ambrose mused silently, before focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. He hadn¡¯t anticipated such a brazen attempt to poach his valuable resources ¨C he mentally corrected himself ¨C valuable people. His keen eyes assessed both Marcus and Sarah, quickly deducing their shared history. The childhood friend route, he noted with an internal sigh. Not the worst possible scenario, but certainly problematic.


    His first priority was determining any lingering attachment on Marcus¡¯s part. If such feelings existed, he¡¯d need to brainw¨C he caught himself ¨C carefully explain why such relationships were doomed to failure. "That can wait," he said aloud, then turned his attention to Sarah. "A friend of yours?"


    Sarah shifted nervously under his scrutiny. Though Ambrose¡¯s slight frame and blindfolded appearance might have seemed unthreatening, his presence carried an undeniable weight. More immediately concerning was Hualing¡¯s predatory gaze ¨C Sarah hadn¡¯t forgotten watching her tear apart that monster in the dungeon. The maid¡¯s hostile aura suggested she¡¯d gladly replicate that performance given the slightest provocation.


    Unknown to Sarah, her mere proximity to Ambrose had automatically categorized her as a threat in Hualing¡¯s mind, regardless of her actual intentions.


    "We¡¯re just acquaintances," Marcus stated flatly, surprising even Ambrose with the genuine dismissal in his tone. Sarah¡¯s visible shock at this declaration told its own story, one that Ambrose quickly pieced together: likely friends in Marcus¡¯s previous life until she abandoned him for more prestigious connections. The theory satisfied his analytical mind.


    A subtle smile played across Ambrose¡¯s lips as he recognized an opportunity to help his regressor deliver some well-deserved face slapping. He stepped forward, Hualing following like a deadly shadow, her hand already resting on her sword¡¯s hilt. Marcus watched with nervous anticipation, uncertain of his young master¡¯s intentions.


    Standing before Sarah, Ambrose allowed his aura to fill the space between them. Though she couldn¡¯t see his eyes behind the blindfold, Sarah felt the weight of his attention like a physical pressure. His smile, when it came, carried an edge sharp enough to cut.


    "My friend here doesn¡¯t seem to want to join your party," he began, his tone deceptively pleasant. "But since your young master insists, why don¡¯t you have him come discuss this personally? I¡¯m quite interested in who values my friend so... highly." The pause before that final word carried volumes of implied meaning, transforming a simple statement into an elegant threat.

 Chapter 70: Restraining Order

    Sarah stood frozen, her eyes darting nervously between Ambrose and Hualing. The maid¡¯s murderous glare left little doubt - if Sarah didn¡¯t follow through with summoning Lysander, she might not live to regret it. Taking a steadying breath, she reached for the communication talisman Lysander had given her. She decided to call for Lysander, after all, Lysander was from the ten great families, even if the opponent was also from the ten great families, they wouldnt give him a hard time¡­Right? She reassured herself. Surely they can work this out between nobles.


    After sending her message, an awkward silence descended over the group. Sarah shifted uncomfortably, painfully aware of Ambrose¡¯s unwavering smile. Every time she glanced at Hualing, those predatory eyes promised swift violence, forcing her to quickly look away. Marcus proved no help, seemingly finding the passing clouds endlessly fascinating.


    This is so awkward, she thought, silently willing Lysander to arrive faster. As if summoned by her desperation, a familiar figure appeared in the distance. Relief flooded through her at the sight of her young master approaching - until she noticed how his confident stride faltered upon recognizing the group, particularly when Ambrose offered a friendly wave.


    Lysander approached with measured steps, his mind racing. When he¡¯d first received Sarah¡¯s message about someone wanting to discuss recruitment, he¡¯d dismissed it as some minor noble¡¯s attempt to curry favor. Never had he imagined confronting the Rothschild heir himself. The pieces clicked into place - he¡¯d seen Marcus with this group earlier but assumed the warrior was simply showing off to the young master by how he had decide to fight the flame serpent solo. The reality that the Rothschild heir had personally recruited Marcus changed everything.


    Cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized the gravity of his mistake. Although he came from one of the ten great families, he wasn¡¯t even the heir. Yet here he was, having attempted to poach someone from the heir of the strongest king family. He felt as though his life had come to an end. He wondered how he should appologize, hopping that Ambrose wasn¡¯t petty.


    When he reached the group, he cupped his fists and bowed slightly. "I greet the young master!" He then rose as he spoke, "I hope my subordinate hasn¡¯t offended you."


    Ambrose looked at him thoughtfully. So this was the guy, he thought, he remembered him since he had a descent talent, he also recognized him from the dungeon exam where he¡¯d seen him running from the flame serpent. He smiled at Lysander¡¯s words - the other noble was trying to push all the blame onto his subordinate, but Ambrose wasn¡¯t going to let him off that easily.


    "Oh, far from it. In fact, I was quite intrigued when she mentioned your... personal interest in my friend. Since you went through such effort to approach Marcus, I thought we should discuss this directly. After all, we¡¯re both from the great families - it would be terribly awkward if there were any... misunderstandings."


    Lysander¡¯s smile turned nervous as he realized he was being backed into a corner. It seemed that the other party wasn¡¯t willing to let the matter go that easily. But he had another trick up his sleeve. Without warning, he spun and delivered a sharp slap to Sarah, sending her crashing to the ground. "How dare you use my name to trick others!" he thundered.


    Sarah lay there stunned, her mind spinning. What happened? Who am I? Where am I? She had thought that since they were both from the ten great families, the situation could be resolved easily. But why did everything look so different from what she¡¯d imagined? Her young master seemed to be trying to appease him instead. She looked up at Ambrose, truly wondering for the first time who he was.


    Ambrose observed the scene with quiet satisfaction. Lysander was quite quick-witted, shifting all blame to Sarah. If Ambrose pursued the matter now, he¡¯d look like the bad guy. He sighed softly before fixing Sarah with a cold stare.


    "My friend here was stalked and harassed by her all day and couldn¡¯t concentrate. I hope you keep your dogs on a leash," he said, his polite tone doing nothing to mask the threat in his words. This should be enough, he thought. Marcus didn¡¯t seem particularly shrewd and might eventually be tricked by this childhood friend, so it was best to get a restraining order and establish clear boundaries now.


    Lysander bowed slightly. "Of course. It won¡¯t happen again." S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Good," Ambrose said simply, turning to leave with his group.


    Lysander watched them depart, his voice carrying just loud enough to be heard. "So that¡¯s the Rothschild heir."


    Sarah, still on the ground, felt her face drain of color. "Rothschild heir?" she whispered. Even though commoners didn¡¯t know much about noble powers and politics, everyone knew one simple rule - never mess with the Rothschilds.


    Lysander looked down at her with a mix of pity and warning. "It¡¯s better to entirely forget about your childhood friend. If something were to happen, even I couldn¡¯t save myself, let alone you."


    ¡­


    In the elegant confines of her villa room, Liu Meihua sat at her ornate desk, her fingers absently tracing the edges of a leather-bound notebook. The luxurious surroundings still felt surreal ¨C crystal chandeliers, silk curtains, and hand-carved furniture that exceeded anything she¡¯d experienced in either of her lives. A wry smile crossed her features as she appreciated the scene, her knowledge of the story might be crumbling, but at least she was living in comfort while it happened.


    Her amusement faded as she returned her attention to the book before her, its pages filled with her careful documentation of every plot point she could remember. The familiar weight of anxiety settled in her chest as she contemplated how dramatically events had already deviated from the original narrative. Ambrose¡¯s protection, while valuable, seemed increasingly insufficient against the looming threats she knew were approaching.


    "The upcoming arcs..." she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of trepidation. Though grateful for finding refuge in Ambrose¡¯s party, she harbored no illusions about the challenges ahead. The story¡¯s major events might bend, but they wouldn¡¯t break entirely ¨C and that meant preparing for the worst while hoping her knowledge remained relevant enough to provide an edge.


    Her eyes drifted to the ornate clock mounted in the corner, its steady ticking a reminder of how easily she¡¯d fallen back into her reclusive habits. Even in this new world, she¡¯d maintained her tendency toward isolation. But circumstances demanded change ¨C extended seclusion would only invite unwanted scrutiny, especially with the next story arc rapidly approaching.


    Rising from her chair with newfound determination, Meihua smoothed her robes and moved toward the door. Her fingers closed around the handle as she took a steadying breath. "Time to face whatever comes next," she murmured, drawing comfort from the weight of knowledge recorded in her notebook. She might not be able to prevent every catastrophe, but she could at least try to stay one step ahead of them.

 Chapter 71: The Four Generals

    In the vast expanse of the Xia Empire, military power flowed differently than in the Kingdom of Avaloria. While the kingdom dispersed its might among the ten great families, each guarding their appointed borders, the empire concentrated its strength in just four extraordinary individuals - the legendary generals who commanded entire armies by themselves.


    These four pillars of imperial might were more than mere military leaders; they were forces of nature given human form, each as mighty as an entire noble house. Their names and titles spoke of their dominion over the seasons themselves: General Summer, the "Blazing Sun General," whose fierce presence protected the southern reaches; General Winter, the "Frost Empress," whose cold calculation secured the northern frontier; General Spring, the "Verdant Dawn," whose vigilance watched over the eastern lands; and General Autumn, the "Harvest Lord," who stood guard over the treacherous western border.1


    Of all their posts, none was more precarious than General Autumn¡¯s position. His territory faced directly against the domain of Friedrich Rothschild, the "Golden-Eyed Tyrant," and more crucially, his wife Victoria, the infamous "Mad Star." She was like a natural disaster given human form - unpredictable, uncontrollable, and utterly devastating. The mere possibility of her deciding to launch an invasion had kept General Autumn in a state of constant vigilance for years.


    But now, everything had changed. The Mad Star had vanished, sacrificing herself to the Spirit King. Even more remarkably, she¡¯d left a parting gift - grievously wounding the other family heads during her departure. It was as if fate itself had delivered this opportunity into General Autumn¡¯s eager hands.


    Standing in his command center, General Autumn couldn¡¯t suppress his growing excitement. His fellow generals had warned him about Friedrich, cautioning that the Golden-Eyed Tyrant wasn¡¯t as simple as he appeared. But Autumn had dismissed their concerns with contempt. In his mind, Friedrich was nothing but a man who had hidden behind his wife¡¯s overwhelming presence. How formidable could he truly be without her?


    Looking down from his elevated position, he surveyed his assembled forces with savage satisfaction. A million troops stood ready for his command, their armor gleaming in the fading light, their weapons hungry for blood. The sight filled him with absolute confidence. This was his moment - he would capture the western border, claim Friedrich¡¯s head, and elevate his standing among the other generals to unprecedented heights.1


    The thought of Victoria returning to find her husband¡¯s corpse sent him into paroxysms of dark glee. Rising from his chair, he approached the balcony overlooking his massive army. Their attention fixed upon him instantly, drawn by his sudden burst of laughter.


    "We attack at dawn!" he proclaimed, his voice carrying across the assembled host. The response was immediate - a thunderous roar of approval that shook the very earth. As their cheers echoed into the darkening sky, General Autumn¡¯s laughter grew even more maniacal. All those sleepless nights he¡¯d spent worrying about Victoria¡¯s next move - now it would be his turn to give others nightmares.


    "Hahaha!" his laughter continued to ring out, harmonizing with the growing chants of his army below. In his mind¡¯s eye, he already saw Friedrich kneeling before him, begging for mercy. The image only fueled his mirth as darkness settled over the empire¡¯s western frontier, promising a dawn of blood and conquest.


    ¡­


    In a chamber where perpetual winter held dominion, General Winter reclined upon her throne of pristine ice. Her ethereal beauty seemed carved from the very frost she commanded - skin pale as fresh-fallen snow, hair a cascade of silver-white that shimmered like icicles in moonlight. Her eyes, a piercing arctic blue, held the depth and mystery of frozen lakes. Every gesture carried an otherworldly grace, as if she were winter itself given human form.


    A servant stood attentively beside her, carefully pouring steaming tea into her delicate cup. The moment General Winter¡¯s fingers brushed the porcelain, frost began its inexorable spread across the surface. She lifted the cup to her lips with elegant haste, managing only a brief sip before the liquid crystallized completely. The frozen cup slipped from her grasp, shattering against the floor in a shower of glittering shards. The servant flinched at the sound, but General Winter¡¯s attention had already drifted elsewhere.


    Her gaze turned westward, her supernatural senses detecting what others could not - the rhythmic chanting of General Autumn¡¯s vast army as they prepared their march against the kingdom. A soft sigh escaped her frost-touched lips as she shook her head. She had tried to warn him, to make him understand the folly of challenging Friedrich, especially now when grief and rage burned hot in the Golden-Eyed Tyrant¡¯s heart. But Autumn¡¯s ambition had rendered him deaf to reason. Now, all she could do was wait and witness the consequences of his hubris.


    Leaning back into her frozen throne, she slowly removed the glove from one hand. Ice immediately began to form around her exposed skin, creating intricate crystalline patterns that danced and grew before her eyes. "Friedrich," she whispered, her voice carrying an unexpected warmth despite her frigid nature. "I wonder how much you¡¯ve changed since then." Her fingers closed into a fist, crushing the delicate ice formations. "I wonder, if you could have made a different choice back then..." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡­


    In the Spirit World, Victoria paced relentlessly across her chamber, her physical form a stark contrast to the ethereal beings that typically inhabited this realm. She had abandoned her spirit form in favor of her human appearance, though right now that appearance was far from its usual composed state. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she moved back and forth with such intensity one might think the world itself was ending.


    A spirit drifted into the room, carrying a plate laden with food and fruits. She couldn¡¯t help but smile at Victoria¡¯s obvious distress, misinterpreting the source of her anxiety.


    "Are you worried that someone will attack your husband while you¡¯re gone?" the spirit teased, her voice light and playful. "Don¡¯t worry, the descendants of Rothschild aren¡¯t that weak."


    Victoria dismissed the suggestion with a sharp "Hmph!" Her response carried none of its usual fondness when discussing her husband. "Who would worry about him?"


    "Huh!" The spirit¡¯s surprise was evident, her earlier playfulness giving way to genuine curiosity. "Then why do you look so worried?"


    The question opened the floodgates of Victoria¡¯s maternal anxiety, setting off an avalanche of increasingly specific concerns¡­ The spirit found herself regretting her well-intentioned inquiry about Victoria Rothschild¡¯s apparent distress. What started as a simple question unleashed an avalanche of maternal anxiety.


    "Oh, where do I even begin?" Victoria paced frantically, her elegant robes swishing with each turn. "It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve seen my precious Ambrose! Do you know how dangerous the human world is? What if he trips on a rock? His constitution is so delicate ¨C a simple stumble could leave him bedridden for weeks!"


    The spirit raised her hands placatingly. "Surely the heir to House Rothschild has adequate protection¡ª"


    "Protection?" Victoria¡¯s eyes widened with fresh horror. "That¡¯s even worse! What if some scheming vixen tries to seduce him? He¡¯s so innocent, so pure! And these noble girls are like wolves in silk dresses!"


    "I¡¯m certain your son has better judgment than¡ª"


    "But that¡¯s not even the worst part!" Victoria clutched her head in despair. "The distance between realms is interfering with my Mother¡¯s All-Seeing Eye 1.0!"


    The spirit blinked in confusion. "Your... what now?"


    Victoria barreled on as if she hadn¡¯t heard, her voice rising with each word. "Out of the 14,322 vital parameters I usually monitor, I can only track 14,299! That¡¯s twenty-three blind spots! Twenty-three ways something could go wrong without me knowing!" She grabbed the spirit¡¯s shoulders, eyes wild. "Do you understand? I can¡¯t even monitor his exact body temperature in real-time anymore! What if he catches a cold and I don¡¯t know about it within 0.3 seconds?"


    The spirit carefully extracted herself from Victoria¡¯s grip, backing away toward the door with slow, deliberate steps. "I just remembered I have some... very important spirit duties to attend to..."


    "And his mana fluctuations! I can only track them to the third decimal place now! The third decimal place! It¡¯s like I¡¯m practically blind!"


    The spirit reached the door, quickly slipping through and pulling it shut behind her. She leaned against it, releasing a heavy sigh. "Note to self: never ask a mother about her children... especially not this one."


    Through the door, Victoria¡¯s voice could still be heard spiraling into increasingly specific concerns about proper sock alignment and the precise angle of morning sunlight reaching her son¡¯s bedroom.


    A/N - Okay so their names are originally (General Summer (Yang Huo), General Winter (Lin Xue), General Spring (Zhao Chun), General Autumn (Qiu Wei)) but I decided to just use the english version. Which one do you like? Or we can use both, one as a title and one as a name.


    A/N - "western" border relative to the empire. In the kingdom, that¡¯s the easter border. (the empire borders the kingdom in the north and east - I¡¯ll try drawing a map)

 Chapter 72: Worst Dialogue Options

    In the dimly lit confines of his private chamber, Friedrich Rothschild sat in brooding silence. His posture and expression radiated an aura so forbidding that even the most hardened warriors dared not approach. The "do not disturb" message written across his features wasn¡¯t merely a suggestion ¨C it was a survival imperative that every servant and soldier in the estate instinctively understood.


    The staff could comprehend his state of mind, to a degree. The sacrifice of his beloved Victoria to the Spirit King had left a wound deeper than any physical injury. Yet none dared speak of it, maintaining a careful distance from their grieving lord. All routine matters were being directed to the second-in-command, maintaining a semblance of normal operations despite their leader¡¯s withdrawal.


    But now, that careful arrangement was about to shatter.


    Standing in his office, the second-in-command stared at the intelligence report in his trembling hands, his pupils dilating as he processed its implications. Their border scouts had detected an empire force of unprecedented scale ¨C a million-strong army led by one of the empire¡¯s dreaded generals. The timing couldn¡¯t have been worse.


    The situation presented two immediate problems. First, their stationed force of one hundred thousand men stood no chance against such overwhelming numbers. Second, while Friedrich possessed the power to potentially match a general in combat, his current mental state raised serious concerns. Physical wounds were one thing, but a distracted mind in battle of that magnitude could spell disaster for the entire region.


    After several moments of internal debate, the second-in-command rose from his desk with grim determination. Some messages simply couldn¡¯t be delegated. He made his way through the estate¡¯s corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last.


    Reaching Friedrich¡¯s door, he paused to steady his nerves. Just as he raised his hand to knock, a voice cut through the wood: "What do you want?"


    "Well, something happened so I¡¯m here to report," he managed, fighting to keep his voice steady.


    "I told you to handle it if anything happened!" Friedrich¡¯s irritation was palpable.


    "I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t handle it this time," the second-in-command replied, bracing himself for the response.


    Silence descended. He waited, wondering if his next sensation would be Friedrich¡¯s legendary strength ending his life. Even if they requested reinforcements from the capital, the nearest response would take at least an hour ¨C time they didn¡¯t have. Worse, with the other great house heads still recovering from Victoria¡¯s parting "gift," none would likely volunteer to face an empire general.


    The door suddenly swung open, revealing Friedrich¡¯s disheveled form. "What happened?" he demanded.


    The second-in-command barely suppressed his shock. Friedrich stood bare-chested, his usually immaculate appearance in complete disarray. He looked nothing like the imposing Golden-Eyed Tyrant they knew. "Was it really that bad?" the thought flashed through his mind, but he quickly composed himself, extending the report.


    Before Friedrich could even unfold the document, a thunderous voice shook the very foundations of the estate: "Friedrich! Where are you? Do you dare to come out and face me now that your wife isn¡¯t here?"


    The challenge echoed through the halls, leaving no doubt that General Autumn had arrived to personally announce his invasion.


    ¡­


    High above the battlefield, General Autumn hovered with an air of smug satisfaction, watching his million-strong army systematically overwhelm Friedrich¡¯s vastly outnumbered forces. The disparity in numbers had been intentional ¨C he hadn¡¯t needed such overwhelming force, but he wanted his victory to be absolute, leaving no room for even the slightest chance of resistance. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His satisfaction, however, was tinged with growing irritation at Friedrich¡¯s continued absence. Glancing at the three warriors who had risen to meet him in the air, his lips curled into a contemptuous sneer. "Oh! They sent you to stop me?" he mocked. "Is Friedrich that afraid now that his wife isn¡¯t here? Did he run away?" His laughter echoed across the battlefield.


    The three warriors began slowly backing away, not out of fear, but from their growing recognition that Autumn was choosing possibly the worst dialogue options given Friedrich¡¯s current state. Yet Autumn, oblivious to their warning gestures, pressed on with his taunts: "Friedrich! Where are you? Do you dare to come out and face me now that your wife isn¡¯t here?"


    The three warriors immediately scattered, their instincts proving correct as a massive column of golden light suddenly descended from the heavens, engulfing Autumn and a hundred-meter radius around him. The radiance was so intense it rivaled the sun itself, forcing observers to shield their eyes. From their safe distance, the three warriors offered silent prayers for the general¡¯s soul ¨C his boldness in provoking Friedrich at such a time had crossed well beyond courage into suicidal foolishness.


    As the light faded, it revealed the devastating aftermath. The entire affected area had seemingly aged a millennium in mere seconds. Vegetation had crumbled to dust, and even the soil itself had been pulverized, leaving a massive crater in the earth. Friedrich materialized above the destruction, casually running a hand through his hair. "Mh, that felt refreshing," he mused, his quiet words somehow carrying across the battlefield. "Maybe I should fight more."


    The observers stared in shock, thinking collectively, "If you really did that, we wouldn¡¯t have a border left to guard!" One attack had rendered a hundred-meter radius completely uninhabitable.


    Friedrich¡¯s attention turned to the empire¡¯s troops still slaughtering his forces. His eyes began to glow with an otherworldly golden light, intricate clock mechanisms visible within his irises. As the clockwork patterns spun faster, an enormous golden clock manifested beneath the entire battlefield, its brilliant radiance washing over all combatants. Golden chains erupted from the clock¡¯s surface, wrapping around every empire soldier. Those fully ensnared became perfectly still, frozen in time itself.


    The kingdom¡¯s soldiers recognized their commander¡¯s signature ability, their morale soaring as they seized the opportunity to strike down their immobilized opponents. "It¡¯s the commander¡¯s power!" they shouted, pressing their advantage against the helpless empire forces.


    Suddenly, a furious roar shattered the battlefield¡¯s rhythm. "Friedrich!!!" Autumn erupted from the crater, his appearance dramatically altered. Most of his clothing had been vaporized, leaving him in only shorts, his body marked with bleeding wounds and his hair streaked with premature white. "How dare you sneak attack me!" he bellowed, charging directly at Friedrich with unbridled rage.

 Chapter 73: Golden-Eyed Tyrant [PART 1]

    General Autumn found himself sprawled at the bottom of the massive crater, his mind struggling to piece together what had happened. One moment, he¡¯d been surrounded by golden light and time magic, and the next he was lying here, disoriented and humiliated. Looking down at himself, he realized his ornate military uniform ¨C proudly adorned with medals bestowed by the Emperor himself ¨C had been almost completely disintegrated, leaving him with nothing but shorts. The indignity of it fueled his rage.


    "That dishonorable dog," he muttered, clenching his fists so tightly that blood seeped between his fingers. "He attacked while I was speaking ¨C no martial ethics whatsoever." His face hardened as he began levitating upward. "What else should I expect from Kingdom filth? Though I do admit that I had underestimated him slightly, but I won¡¯t underestimate him again."


    As he ascended, Autumn prepared himself mentally for a proper battle. Despite the sneak attack, he was confident in his abilities as one of the Empire¡¯s legendary Four Generals. Each was considered a force of nature, worth an entire army alone ¨C but what greeted him at the crater¡¯s edge defied comprehension.


    In the brief moments he¡¯d been incapacitated, the tide of battle had shifted dramatically. Across the entire battlefield, Friedrich had deployed his Transcendent Time talent on a scale Autumn had never witnessed. His million-strong army stood frozen in time, golden chains binding them in place as Kingdom soldiers methodically cut them down. The sight was surreal ¨C like watching insects trapped in amber being systematically exterminated.


    "How is this even possible?" Autumn whispered, genuine shock breaking through his battle-hardened composure. No single individual should be able to affect so vast an area with such precise control. Friedrich wasn¡¯t merely a powerful noble ¨C he was wielding power that approached the divine tier.


    Rage overwhelmed the general¡¯s tactical mind. "FRIEDRICH!!!" he roared, the veins in his temples bulging. Friedrich turned slightly to look at him, quickly taking in the general¡¯s changed appearance, his uniform had been reduced to tatters, his exposed skin marked with seeping wounds, and scattered patches of his hair had turned stark white from the temporal assault on his body.


    "How dare you sneak attack me!" Autumn bellowed, channeling his fury into raw power as he charged directly at the floating figure of Friedrich. The Golden-Eyed Tyrant merely observed his approach with detached interest, making no apparent move to defend himself.


    Yet when Autumn reached Friedrich¡¯s position, his fist passed through empty air. Looking up, he spotted Friedrich several meters away, casually waving as if greeting an old friend. Below, the slaughter of his frozen forces continued unabated.


    "The bastard is stalling me," Autumn realized. Friedrich wasn¡¯t avoiding combat out of fear ¨C he was strategically eliminating the Empire¡¯s numerical advantage before focusing on the real threat. It was coldly efficient and utterly infuriating.


    Autumn surged forward again, pushing his body to move at speeds approaching light itself. Each time, the result was identical ¨C Friedrich would simply not be where he appeared to be, materializing nearby with that same mocking wave. Time and space themselves seemed to bend around the Rothschild patriarch.


    After the fifth futile attempt, something inside General Autumn snapped. Energy crackled visibly around his bulging muscles as he roared, "I¡¯m done playing these games!" His voice carried the raw power of a thousand thunderstorms. "Let¡¯s fight like real men!"


    He launched himself forward once more, but this time, he felt a shift in the energy around him. The very air grew thick, and everything ¨C birds in mid-flight, dust motes, even light itself ¨C came to a complete standstill. Time had frozen completely, except for Friedrich who calmly began floating away from the immobilized general.


    Yet something unprecedented occurred. Around Autumn¡¯s frozen form, hairline fractures began appearing in the fabric of reality itself, as if time were a glass panel cracking under immense pressure. Friedrich turned back, golden eyes widening in genuine surprise.


    "Huh?" was all Friedrich managed before Autumn¡¯s fist connected solidly with his face, shattering the temporal lock completely.


    "I said I¡¯m done playing these games," Autumn growled as time resumed its normal flow. The force of his blow sent Friedrich hurtling toward the ground below, leaving a golden trail in his wake.


    The watching soldiers on both sides fell silent, witnessing the seemingly impossible scene.


    ¡­


    Friedrich¡¯s body hurtled toward the ground with alarming velocity, trailing golden sparks in his wake. General Autumn watched with savage satisfaction, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.


    "Not so arrogant now, huh?" he called out, his voice dripping with contempt. The moment of victory was intoxicating ¨C he had accomplished what many thought impossible: landing a direct hit on the Golden-Eyed Tyrant.


    But his celebration proved premature. As Autumn observed Friedrich¡¯s plummeting form, something unnatural began to happen. The falling figure started to convulse in midair, its outline blurring and shifting. Within seconds, Friedrich¡¯s body transformed completely, morphing into an enormous golden clock that rotated with impossible speed. The clock¡¯s brilliant golden hue began to fade, transitioning first to stark black and white, then becoming increasingly transparent until it vanished entirely.


    "What?" Autumn gasped, his triumphant expression replaced by confusion and growing unease. The battlefield below him continued its one-sided slaughter, Friedrich¡¯s time magic still holding his army immobile.


    Then, he felt it ¨C the light touch of fingertips on his shoulder. A sensation that sent ice through his veins. In all his centuries as a general, no one had ever approached him undetected. Such a feat shouldn¡¯t be possible given his heightened senses and combat instincts. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Pure survival instinct took over. Without even turning to look, Autumn exploded with power, propelling himself forward at breakneck speed. He didn¡¯t slow until he was miles away, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Cautiously, he glanced back, scanning the horizon for pursuit. The sky behind him appeared empty.


    A sigh of relief began to form in his chest ¨C cut short by another touch on his shoulder.


    "I¡¯m cooked!" The thought flashed through his mind in the microsecond before a devastating blow crashed into his back. Unlike before, there was no opportunity to escape. The impact sent him hurtling back toward his original position, his body bent backward at an unnatural angle from the force of the strike.


    Within an instant, he found himself precisely where he¡¯d started, the transition so abrupt it felt as though reality itself had been rewritten. Before he could regain his bearings, Friedrich materialized before him, delivering a punishing blow toward his stomach. This time, Autumn managed to raise his arms in a partial block, deflecting some of the force.


    But victory was short-lived. Another crushing impact slammed into his back, catching him completely off-guard.


    "Just how many of you are there?" he snarled, desperation edging into his voice. For a fleeting moment, the attacks ceased, giving him precious seconds to assess his situation.


    Slowly raising his gaze upward, Autumn¡¯s eyes widened in horror at the impossible sight before him. The sky was filled with thousands of identical Friedrichs, each one regarding him with the same detached golden stare. Some appeared slightly transparent, others more solid, but all wore the same expression ¨C the calm, calculated look of a predator toying with its prey.

 Chapter 74: Golden-Eyed Tyrant [PART 2]

    Even the soldiers engaged in battle below momentarily paused, their weapons suspended mid-swing as they gazed upward at the breathtaking spectacle unfolding in the sky. General Autumn stood encircled by thousands of identical Friedrichs, each one bearing the same golden-eyed stare, the same imperious posture, creating a panorama both magnificent and terrifying.


    Autumn¡¯s eyes darted frantically from one Friedrich to another, struggling to discern which, if any, was the genuine article. After several moments of assessment, his expression hardened with resolve. "They¡¯re just clones," he muttered, reaching a decision. With a bellowing war cry, he charged blindly toward the nearest cluster of Friedrichs.


    The moment he committed to his attack, he felt devastating blows rain upon his back. Spinning to confront his attackers, he immediately received strikes from another direction. Within seconds, he found himself at the center of a brutal onslaught, surrounded by Friedrichs who appeared and disappeared too quickly to track, each landing punishing blows before retreating into the temporal chaos.


    The sound of mocking laughter echoed around him as the clones taunted his futile efforts to counter. Rage built within Autumn¡¯s chest, threatening to overwhelm his battle-honed instincts. But the veteran general refused to succumb to emotion. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he forced himself to analyze the situation dispassionately.


    "They¡¯re trying to provoke me," he realized. "But the damage is minimal ¨C irritating at best." As a tank-type, his defensive capabilities were unparalleled. These attacks, while numerous, weren¡¯t penetrating his natural defenses enough to pose a serious threat.


    A calculated smirk formed on his battered face. "Let them waste their mana," he thought, deliberately relaxing his stance and allowing the blows to land. "Friedrich isn¡¯t foolish enough to think these clones can finish me. He¡¯ll eventually attack personally ¨C I just need to wait."


    Autumn adopted a defensive posture, conserving his strength while the temporal duplicates continued their assault. "In a battle of attrition, the tank always wins," he reminded himself, finding cold comfort in battlefield fundamentals. The clones could spend mana indefinitely, but even the mighty Friedrich Rothschild had limits.


    Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes as Autumn maintained his stance, beginning to wonder if his strategy had been miscalculated. Was it possible Friedrich truly believed these attacks would be sufficient? Did he possess some unknown trump card?


    Just as doubt began to creep into his mind, Autumn felt it ¨C a blow to his groin several magnitudes stronger than the previous attacks. The pain was nearly unbearable, causing his vision to momentarily blur, but beneath the agony, triumph blazed. This was no clone ¨C this was the real Friedrich, finally revealing himself.


    With lightning reflexes honed through centuries of combat, Autumn¡¯s hand shot out, seizing the wrist connected to the offending fist. His grip tightened like an iron vise, allowing no possibility of escape. With a violent flex of his entire body, he scattered the surrounding clones, sending them flying several meters outward. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A wicked smile spread across his face as he stared into the eyes of his captured opponent. "I finally caught you!" he crowed victoriously.


    The trapped Friedrich looked at him with apparent nervousness. "H-how did you know?" he stammered.


    Autumn¡¯s laughter boomed across the battlefield. "Hahaha! Of course I knew ¨C the original hurts more than the clones," he declared, swelling with pride at his own cleverness.


    Friedrich¡¯s face fell in apparent defeat, his free hand rising to his forehead in a gesture of dismay, further feeding Autumn¡¯s growing ego. "Didn¡¯t think I was this smart, huh?" the general gloated, savoring his moment of triumph.


    But the victory was short-lived. His expression froze as the captured Friedrich lifted his foot and delivered another devastating kick directly to his groin. The pain was so intense that Autumn felt death itself might be preferable to this agony.


    Through his haze of suffering, he heard Friedrich¡¯s calm voice: "Of course being hit in the groin hurts more."


    Before Autumn could process this statement, the Friedrich he¡¯d been so certain was real exploded into golden light, transforming into yet another temporal clock that quickly dissolved into particles of light. The revelation hit harder than any physical blow ¨C he¡¯d been deceived again.


    The real Friedrich watched from multiple perspectives at once, his time-split consciousness analyzing Autumn¡¯s every move. The empire general had fallen for the oldest trick in combat ¨C mistaking pain for authenticity.


    ¡­


    General Autumn hovered in midair, one hand clutching his groin as waves of excruciating pain radiated through his entire body. The agony was almost unbearable, but far more acute was the humiliation burning through his veins. His pride, cultivated over centuries of conquest, lay shattered around him like the golden particles of Friedrich¡¯s disappearing clones.


    The revelation struck him with devastating clarity ¨C from the very beginning, apart from that initial blow, Friedrich had merely been toying with him. The Golden-Eyed Tyrant wasn¡¯t engaged in serious combat at all. What high-level combatant would target an opponent¡¯s groin in a battle between transcendent beings? It was the clearest statement of contempt possible.1


    Looking down, he could see even his own remaining soldiers laughing at the spectacle he had become. The mighty General Autumn, one of the Empire¡¯s four legendary generals, reduced to a laughingstock before both armies. Friedrich hadn¡¯t just attacked his body ¨C he¡¯d systematically dismantled his reputation.


    Something primal snapped within Autumn¡¯s psyche. His face contorted in rage as he threw his head back and bellowed, "FRIEDRICH!!!" The name erupted from his throat with such force that the battlefield below trembled, soldiers staggering as the sound waves rippled outward. Dust rose from the earth, and birds fled from distant trees.


    "I wanted to slap you a few times," he snarled, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl, "But it seems that I have to kill you now." The words were mere formality ¨C he had intended Friedrich¡¯s death from the outset, but now it had become deeply personal. This was no longer about conquest ¨C it was about vengeance, about restoring his shattered honor.


    A crimson aura began to surround Autumn¡¯s form, crackling with electricity-like discharges every few seconds. His oversized, bulging muscles ¨C the hallmark of his tank-type fighting style ¨C began to shift and realign. His body underwent a startling transformation, his bulky frame becoming leaner, more refined, optimized for speed and precision rather than absorption and endurance.


    The watching soldiers below fell silent as they witnessed the legendary general¡¯s transformation. Only the most seasoned veterans had ever seen this form ¨C Autumn¡¯s true combat state, reserved for opponents worthy of his full power.


    With movement so swift it defied perception, Autumn tore through the surrounding Friedrichs. Hundreds of temporal clones exploded into golden particles as he carved through their ranks, each dissipating with a flash of light. His hands moved with surgical precision, crushing the neck of one clone after another.


    "Show yourself, you coward!" he roared, continuing his rampage through the sea of duplicates. Each clone he destroyed only seemed to multiply his rage, for none proved to be the real Friedrich.


    Below, the battlefield had become eerily still. Both sides had ceased fighting, transfixed by the spectacle above. The empire soldiers who remained unfrozen by Friedrich¡¯s time magic watched their general¡¯s transformation with a mixture of awe and dread. They had never seen Autumn pushed this far, driven to such extremes.


    The kingdom soldiers, for their part, exchanged worried glances. They had witnessed Friedrich¡¯s power countless times, but even they had never seen him employ such elaborate tactical deception. Something had changed in their commander ¨C Victoria¡¯s departure had transformed his usual calculated precision into something more creative and cruel.


    As Autumn continued his destructive path through the clones, the second-in-command who had brought Friedrich the initial report watched with growing concern. This was escalating beyond a border skirmish ¨C this was becoming the kind of confrontation that reshaped maps and rewrote histories.


    Friedrich, for his part, observed from multiple temporal vantage points simultaneously, his consciousness split across different versions of himself. He hadn¡¯t intended to take things this far, but Autumn¡¯s taunts about Victoria had awakened something within him ¨C a darkness he¡¯d kept carefully controlled until now. "Maybe I should stretch a bit¡­"


    A/N - F => E => D => C => B => A => S(Special Rank 1) => SS(Special Rank 2) => SSS(Special Rank 3) => Transcendent


    A/N - lets use this for now

 Chapter 75: Golden-Eyed Tyrant [PART 3]

    In the heart of the imperial palace, Emperor Chen Ming sat alone upon his massive dragon throne, or so it appeared to any who might glimpse into the grand hall. His face was twisted with barely contained fury, fingers gripping the ornate armrests until his knuckles whitened. The news of General Autumn¡¯s reckless charge into the kingdom had shattered years of careful planning, schemes that had been layered as delicately as silk sheets, now torn asunder by one impulsive action.


    The vast chamber, with its towering columns and gilded decorations, seemed to amplify the emperor¡¯s agitated breathing. Not only were his plans in ruins, but he was also about to lose a general ¨C something that had taken years of careful cultivation and immense resources to create. The thought alone made his temples throb with frustration.


    Taking a deep breath to center himself, Emperor Chen Ming¡¯s voice echoed through the empty hall. "What are his chances of surviving?"


    Though the question seemed to float unanswered in the air, a response emerged from the shadows behind the throne. The voice was distinctly male, yet eerily devoid of any emotion ¨C each word delivered with mechanical precision, as if reciting from some unseen script.


    "He has a ten percent chance of surviving."


    The emperor¡¯s eyes widened, genuine surprise breaking through his carefully maintained composure. Against the legendary Golden-eyed Tyrant, even a ten percent chance of survival seemed impossibly high. He shifted in his seat, curiosity overtaking his anger.


    "Why do you think so?" The question carried both skepticism and hope ¨C the General Autumn he knew shouldn¡¯t possess such odds against such a formidable opponent.


    The monotone voice continued its explanation, "General Autumn¡¯s talent focuses on body optimization, allowing him to transform his body into forms that are optimized for different types of combat." The emperor nodded slowly, processing this information. "If he transformed his body into a form that¡¯s optimized for speed, he might have a chance if he ran away without looking back."


    A knowing silence fell between them before the voice added, "But knowing him, he¡¯ll probably choose to fight!" The emperor¡¯s grim nod confirmed their shared understanding of the general¡¯s prideful nature. Running, no matter how tactical, would never be an option for someone of his temperament.


    "But there¡¯s no need to throw in the towel yet," the voice continued, introducing a new perspective. "This is just what we know on the surface. Everyone has their own secrets."


    "You mean..." the emperor began, but the voice pressed on.


    "That¡¯s right. Although we know the general abilities of the generals, we don¡¯t know if they have their own secret methods."


    This revelation sent a chill down the emperor¡¯s spine. The implications were clear ¨C their oversight of the generals had grown too lax, potentially allowing them to develop hidden powers away from imperial scrutiny. The very thought that his position might be at risk caused him to exhale heavily.


    Seeking to change the subject, the emperor turned to another matter of concern. "About the spies that you sent to the kingdom," he began, his tone measured. "Why did you not pick a professional team? Why pick those newbies? I heard they were captured even before they could get far."


    The atmosphere shifted as movement stirred behind the throne. From the encompassing darkness, a figure began to emerge with deliberate slowness. As it stepped into the light, the form of a man became visible ¨C his well-toned muscles apparent even in the dim illumination. Yet his face remained concealed behind an intricately crafted dragon mask.


    "That was actually part of the plan," the masked figure declared.


    ¡­


    Deep within the forests of Avaloria Kingdom, amidst the many ancient trees, a peculiar scene unfolded around a roaring pyre. Maximilian Brightwell sat beside the flames, a shadow of his former self. His once-pristine appearance had deteriorated dramatically ¨C days of neglect had transformed him into something almost feral. His unkempt hair hung in matted tangles, while an untamed beard obscured his features, lending him the appearance of a man who had long abandoned civilization.


    The massive fire before him cast dancing shadows through the forest, but it wasn¡¯t the flames that drew attention. Rather, it was the bizarre creature lounging within the inferno itself. The being defied natural description ¨C its body was a study in contradictions. Tiny limbs, no larger than an infant¡¯s, supported a grotesquely oversized head that matched an adult human¡¯s in scale. Where a face should have been, a single massive red eyeball dominated, unblinking and alien. No mouth, no nose, no other features marred its smooth surface. A diminutive tail completed its otherworldly appearance.


    Most striking was how the creature seemed to luxuriate in the flames that should have consumed it. Its tail swayed lazily back and forth as it rotated like meat on a spit, but with obvious pleasure rather than distress. The being turned its singular eye toward Maximilian.


    "What¡¯s your choice, human?" The question hung in the smoke-filled air.


    Maximilian regarded the creature with weary eyes, reaching into his right pocket to withdraw a crumpled pack of cigarettes. With deliberate movements, he pulled one out and leaned forward, using the same flames that cradled the demon to light his smoke. The bitter scent of tobacco mixed with the woodsmoke as he took a deep drag.


    "What are you?" he finally asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The creature¡¯s response came with an almost childlike candor. "I don¡¯t know either. My mom calls me a fragment."


    "You have a mother? Where is she?" Maximilian¡¯s questions came between puffs of his cigarette.


    "I don¡¯t know. We only meet mother when we wake up and don¡¯t see her again," the creature responded matter-of-factly.


    "¡¯We¡¯?" Maximilian¡¯s interest seemed to sharpen.


    "Yes."


    "How many of you are there?"


    The creature stood upright in the flames, its single eye gleaming. "I don¡¯t know. When I woke up, there were many of us, and there are still others who have yet to wake up."


    Maximilian crushed out his finished cigarette, his voice hardening. "Thanks for answering my questions, but I can¡¯t take your offer." His next words carried the weight of grief and rage. "After all, you killed my son."


    "I didn¡¯t kill him. We¡¯ve already talked about this," the creature protested.


    "You or the one who did it, it¡¯s all the same to me. If it weren¡¯t for you, he wouldn¡¯t have made the choices he made." Maximilian¡¯s casual tone belied the pain beneath his words as he reached for another cigarette, only to find the pack empty. With a frustrated gesture, he tossed it into the fire.


    "Since I can¡¯t kill you, I¡¯ll be taking my leave now," he announced, rising to his feet and starting to walk away through the darkening forest.


    The creature, however, had other plans. It materialized on his shoulder, its voice insistent. "I told you that I didn¡¯t make him do those things. Your son was already far gone to begin with. I only lent him my power."


    Maximilian attempted to swat the being away, only for it to disappear and reappear on his other shoulder. After several failed attempts to dislodge his unwanted companion, he finally surrendered to its persistence.


    "I told you I didn¡¯t want your power. Why are you still following me?" he demanded.


    The creature¡¯s response came with an almost comical air of injury. "Are you going to leave me by myself in this place?"


    A deep sigh escaped Maximilian. "I¡¯ll take you to the church to be exorcized."


    "What¡¯s the church? Is it edible?" the creature asked with genuine curiosity.


    Maximilian¡¯s only response was to cover his face with his palm, wondering how he had found himself in such an absurd situation with this seemingly innocent yet dangerous being.

 Chapter 76: Golden-Eyed Tyrant [PART 4]

    In the eastern border of the Avaloria Kingdom, the landscape had transformed into a nightmarish tableau, reminiscent of a scene from an apocalyptic film. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood, mingling with the cries of the wounded and the clash of steel. Soldiers from both the empire and the kingdom fought with a ferocity born of desperation, their faces twisted in grim determination as they fell, one after another, like autumn leaves caught in a tempest. The ground was littered with the remnants of battle: discarded weapons, shattered armor, and the lifeless bodies of those who had once stood proud, now reduced to mere statistics in a war that had spiraled out of control.


    Friedrich¡¯s earlier tactical use of his power had frozen the imperial forces, allowing for a devastating culling of their numbers. But now, with the odds somewhat evened, he had lifted the temporal barrier. The decision wasn¡¯t made lightly ¨C maintaining such large-scale magic drained precious resources he needed for the confrontation with General Autumn.


    High above the chaos below, Friedrich and General Autumn faced each other in the sky. While Friedrich maintained a composed demeanor, rage radiated from every fiber of the general¡¯s being. His frustration was palpable ¨C he had exhausted every strategy trying to force Friedrich to release the freezing spell that had decimated his forces. Only after nine hundred thousand of his soldiers had fallen did the time magic finally lift.


    The bitter taste of failure filled Autumn¡¯s mouth. His million-strong army, meant to easily overwhelm Friedrich¡¯s modest force of one hundred thousand, had been reduced to a mere shadow of its former might. His planned swift victory had transformed into a nightmare where he couldn¡¯t even claim numerical superiority.


    Combat with Friedrich proved maddeningly difficult. Every attempt to engage resulted in either the target slipping away or revealing itself as nothing more than a temporal clone. When Autumn tried to compensate by targeting Friedrich¡¯s army, the time mage would strike and retreat before any counterattack could land. Despite being in his optimized speed form, Autumn found himself consistently outmaneuvered ¨C not by raw speed, he realized, but by Friedrich¡¯s manipulation of time itself.


    As he stared at his opponent, General Autumn wrestled with the humiliating possibility of defeat at the hands of a support-type warrior. The thought proved intolerable. "No! I refuse to accept this!" General Autumn growled, determination igniting within him. In a flash, he disappeared from his position, reappearing behind Friedrich with a speed that defied comprehension. He launched a fist, a devastating blow aimed at the mage, but as his strike connected, he found nothing but empty air. Friedrich had evaded him once more, a ghost slipping through the cracks of reality.


    But General Autumn was not to be outdone. He spun around, instinctively capturing a fist that came hurtling toward him from behind. "²¶¤Þ¤¨¤¿!" he exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. With a surge of power, he pushed off the air, gripping Friedrich tightly as he propelled them both into the sky. They soared at speeds that transcended the limits of light, the world below shrinking into a blur of colors and shapes.


    T/N - Got you!


    Before long, they broke through the atmosphere, the vastness of space enveloping them. General Autumn reveled in the sensation of speed, the thrill of the chase igniting his senses. He turned around, his grip on Friedrich unyielding, and pushed off once more, this time hurtling toward the Earth. The descent was breathtaking, their forms igniting in a blaze of energy as they plummeted toward the ground.


    Their descent created a spectacle of fire and fury, their forms becoming like meteors as they tore through the atmosphere. The impact was catastrophic ¨C while Autumn had deliberately chosen a crash site far from his troops, the resulting explosion rivaled several nuclear detonations combined. Even at a distance, powerful shockwaves rolled across the battlefield, a testament to the overwhelming force of their collision.


    ¡­


    In the aftermath of the catastrophic impact, General Autumn stood at the edge of an enormous crater, his body battered and bleeding profusely. Despite his injuries, a triumphant smile spread across his face as he gazed at what appeared to be Friedrich¡¯s broken form lying motionless at the crater¡¯s center. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I finally won!" His laughter echoed across the devastated landscape, a sound of relief and victory. However, his celebration proved premature. Before his eyes, Friedrich¡¯s "corpse" began to convulse unnaturally, the sight draining all joy from Autumn¡¯s face.


    "Wait! No! No! No!" Panic crept into his voice as he watched the body transform into a clock before dissolving into nothingness. "This can¡¯t be!" His triumph turned to desperation. "How come it¡¯s a clone? I made sure to confirm..."


    "Confirm what?" Friedrich¡¯s voice materialized beside him, along with his form. Autumn abandoned words in favor of action, seizing Friedrich¡¯s hand and slamming him into the ground with such force that the earth fractured beneath them. Yet again, the figure dissolved into a clock before fading away, leaving Autumn staring in growing horror at the empty space where his enemy should have been.


    His mind began to spiral ¨C were there no real bodies at all? Was everything just an illusion?


    "Hey, I was talking..." Friedrich¡¯s voice came again, this time from a safe distance. But before he could finish his sentence, Autumn crossed the gap between them with frightening speed, grabbing Friedrich¡¯s head. He made a slight jump, keeping Friedrich pinned as he leveraged the air itself to drive his opponent deeper into the ground. But once more, only a clock remained before withering away.


    "Why are you still playing these games?" Autumn¡¯s frustration boiled over. "Are you afraid to face me without your wife by your side?" The taunt had barely left his lips when he sensed an attack from behind. A smile crossed his face as he spun, catching Friedrich¡¯s fist. His body transformed, muscles expanding dramatically as he delivered a devastating blow that disintegrated his opponent instantly. His enhanced form receded as he fought to catch his breath.


    "This is getting boring." The emotionless voice behind him sent chills down his spine.


    "What?" Autumn whirled around, launching another attack, but something was wrong. His fist stopped! No! It was still moving, but it moved with agonizing slowness, as if swimming through honey. He realized with horror that he was caught in time magic. His attempt to escape proved futile ¨C his legs moved so slowly that he guessed a single inch would take a year to traverse.


    Looking at Friedrich, he managed to speak. "You finally decided to show yourself."


    "What do you mean? I¡¯ve always been here," Friedrich replied calmly.


    "What are you talking about? Haven¡¯t you been hiding behind your clones all this time?"


    Friedrich¡¯s smile held a hint of amusement. "Oh, so that¡¯s what you meant." His explanation followed, revealing the true nature of his power. "With my mastery of time, the concept of a ¡¯real¡¯ body becomes... fluid. Every moment is a new iteration, a new possibility. The ¡¯me¡¯ you strike down? That is simply a moment in time, a fleeting echo. The instant it ceases to be, it is no longer the ¡¯real¡¯ me, but a vestige, a clone of what was."


    Autumn struggled to form words, but before he could respond, Friedrich¡¯s expression hardened. "Anyway, this game isn¡¯t fun anymore." The clocks in his eyes began to spin rapidly as he placed his hand on the general.


    "Chronal Nullification," Friedrich intoned. Autumn¡¯s form became rigid, unnaturally still as the temporal magic took hold. The clocks in Friedrich¡¯s eyes spun faster and faster while Autumn¡¯s body began to crumble into dust. Only when the proud general had completely disintegrated did the clockwork in Friedrich¡¯s eyes finally cease their rotation.


    A/N - I¡¯ll get into Friedrich¡¯s power later, I just wanted to show that he wasnt that weak after getting destroyed by Victoria. Anyway, I¡¯ll stop focusing on these high level characters at the moment and just focus on the main cast.

 Chapter 77: The Aftermath

    In a dimly lit chamber that seemed to absorb shadows rather than dispel them, a figure lounged upon an ornate seat. Though calling it a chair would be an understatement ¨C its elaborate craftsmanship and imposing presence marked it clearly as a throne. The seated figure wore a dragon mask of exquisite detail, each scale meticulously carved to catch what little light filtered through the gloom. Despite the mask¡¯s concealment, his masculine physique was unmistakable ¨C broad shoulders tapering to a warrior¡¯s build, strength evident even in repose.


    Beside him stood a second figure, her presence a stark contrast to his imposing form. The rabbit mask she wore was deceptively simple, its pure white surface unmarred except for delicate whisker marks and alert ears that seemed to twitch in the shadows. Her frame was decidedly feminine ¨C lithe and graceful, yet carrying an underlying tension that suggested coiled strength.


    "Autumn is dead," the dragon-masked figure stated, his voice carrying neither surprise nor regret.


    The rabbit tilted her head, mask catching the light at a new angle. "You don¡¯t seem surprised," she observed, her voice carrying a melodic quality that somehow made the mask seem more alive.


    "I don¡¯t?" Dragon¡¯s laughter boomed through the chamber, rich and theatrical. "Looks like I can¡¯t hide it from you." He shifted in his throne, the movement deliberately casual. "I did indeed foresee this." A pause, then with obvious amusement, "Then again, so did anyone with at least a single braincell." His renewed laughter echoed off the walls.


    "But didn¡¯t you tell the emperor that he might have a chance?" Rabbit¡¯s question carried genuine curiosity. "Remember all that talk about everyone having their secret methods?"


    "Oh, that?" Dragon waved dismissively. "Those oldies have already reached their limits. How could they have any secret methods? I was just planting a seed."


    "A seed?"


    Dragon leaned forward, his mask catching the light ominously. "Don¡¯t you understand? Now that the emperor believes they¡¯re hiding something, he won¡¯t easily trust them. It gives us a chance to act stealthily while they¡¯re suspicious of each other." His satisfaction was evident in his voice. "It¡¯ll be like taking candy from a baby."


    Rabbit clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm almost childlike. "As expected of Sir Dragon!"


    "Alright, you can stop," Dragon cut her off, noting her excessive praise. "Anyway, how¡¯s the plan going?"


    "I haven¡¯t received any updates after the capture of the newbie team," she reported. "The one in charge is Rat, and, you know..." She trailed off meaningfully.


    Dragon sighed. "Well, that¡¯s a rat for you." Despite his words, he seemed unconcerned. He turned to face Rabbit directly. "Do you think it¡¯s going to work?"


    "Of course it will! It¡¯s Sir Dragon¡¯s plan after all," she chirped.


    "Stop that!" His voice hardened. "I want to know what you really think." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Rabbit¡¯s playful demeanor fell away at his serious tone. She sighed dramatically. "I thought I could stop thinking completely and mooch off your thinking," she pouted. Then, with sudden gravity, "To be honest, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to work!"


    Dragon¡¯s posture stiffened. "Why not?"


    Rabbit¡¯s gaze drifted to the side. "Even though Victoria has left, making the operation significantly easier, there¡¯s still a problem."


    "You don¡¯t believe I can defeat Friedrich?" he challenged.


    "Hey, I didn¡¯t say that," she protested quickly.


    "Even if I went all out?"


    Instead of answering directly, Rabbit¡¯s attention shifted to the wall where a photograph of Ambrose hung, a knife thrust through it. She moved with deliberate grace toward the image, Dragon watching her every movement. Carefully removing the photo, she brushed away the accumulated dust, studying the young noble¡¯s features.


    "Well," she said finally, her voice carrying a weight that filled the chamber, "who knows?"


    ¡­


    In the empire¡¯s northern territory, an eternal winter held dominion. The landscape was a masterpiece of frost and ice, where even the air itself seemed crystallized. Rising from this frozen realm stood a castle that defied conventional architecture ¨C a sprawling fortress constructed entirely of living ice. Its spires reached toward the steel-gray sky like frozen fingers, their surfaces catching and refracting what little sunlight penetrated the perpetual winter haze. The structure appeared almost organic, as if it had grown from the frozen ground rather than being built, its walls rippling with subtle patterns that shifted in the changing light.


    General Spring stood before this magnificent edifice, his breath creating clouds in the frigid air. Despite the bone-chilling cold, he maintained an air of casual confidence. "What a luxurious place," he remarked, his voice carrying across the silent snowscape.


    "It¡¯s just a modest hatch," a feminine voice responded from somewhere above. "We would appreciate it if the general didn¡¯t make things hard for us." As the words faded, female warriors materialized around him, their white uniforms blending perfectly with the snowy backdrop. Each carried weapons of crystalline ice that seemed to pulse with inner light.


    "Hey hey, I just came for a visit," Spring raised his hands in mock surrender, his playful tone at odds with the tension in the air. "No need to be so serious."


    The warriors maintained their positions, weapons unwavering. Their spokesperson, the one who had addressed him earlier, spoke again: "I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t house someone as important as the general."


    "No need to be so polite, I just need to see General Winter," Spring insisted, his casual demeanor persisting.


    "The matriarch isn¡¯t feeling well at the moment," the woman replied with a diplomatic smile. "How about you tell me what you want to say and I¡¯ll tell her?"


    Spring shook his head slowly. "I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that." His hand moved toward his pocket, causing the surrounding warriors to tense visibly.


    Before the situation could escalate, a voice rang out from the castle ¨C gentle yet carrying undeniable authority: "Let him in!"


    Spring¡¯s face split into a satisfied smile as the warriors lowered their weapons and began retreating. He walked past them with evident smugness, but when he reached the spokesperson, his triumph was short-lived. As he withdrew his cigarettes from his shirt pocket, she smoothly plucked them from his grasp.


    "This is a no smoking zone," she announced with matching smugness, clearly enjoying this small victory. "I¡¯ll hold onto them for you."


    Spring¡¯s expression darkened dangerously, but the woman remained unmoved by his barely contained rage. Swallowing his anger at the disrespect, he proceeded into the castle.


    The massive ice doors swung open silently, revealing General Winter seated upon a throne of pure ice. She regarded him with cool detachment from her elevated position. "What do you want?" she asked without preamble.


    "I¡¯m here to discuss something," he began.


    "I¡¯m not interested," she cut him off immediately.


    Looking wounded but determined, Spring reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a photograph, which he tossed toward Winter. She caught it effortlessly, but as her eyes fell upon the image, they widened with unmistakable shock. The photo showed¡­(not telling ya lol)


    A/N - I won¡¯t be coming back to this in a while, who can guess what¡¯s in the photo?

 Chapter 78: I Want Your Blood

    In the academy¡¯s pristine medical wing, Ambrose found himself seated on an examination bed, observing the school nurse with analytical interest. She embodied the stereotypical description he¡¯d encountered in novels - a professional woman in her late twenties wearing wire-rimmed glasses, her white coat crisp and perfectly pressed. Her curves suggested an hourglass figure, and her presence carried an air of mature confidence that seemed at odds with her subsequent behavior.


    "Thanks for doing this," she said, approaching with a clipboard. "Your maid hasn¡¯t been letting anyone examine you. Even though you¡¯ve recovered, we still need to do a proper checkup." She paused meaningfully. "Our lives rather depend on it, after all."


    Ambrose nodded, understanding the unspoken concern. Victoria wasn¡¯t known for being the reasonable kind, if anything was to happen to her son in the academy, they would definitely pay for it, no questions asked. With this in mind the academy had to demonstrate due diligence in caring for her son. He offered a reassuring smile as the nurse placed her clipboard on the nearby table.


    What happened next caught him slightly off guard. The nurse perched herself halfway onto the examination bed, her expression brightening with barely contained excitement. "Can I have your blood?" she blurted out, then immediately flushed as she registered her own words.


    "It¡¯s not what you think!" she backpedaled, waving her hands frantically. "I¡¯ve just never seen a condition quite like yours. No offense, but..." she trailed off, looking mortified.


    "It¡¯s okay," Ambrose encouraged, finding her flustered state somewhat amusing.


    "You¡¯re physically weak, yet your body shows no signs of illness or disease," she explained, professional interest briefly overcoming her embarrassment. "I¡¯d like to study... I mean, not in a laboratory setting!" Her composure cracked again. "I just want to see if there¡¯s something unique about your physiology. Not that you¡¯re not already special, I mean..."


    She finally stopped talking, her face burning bright red. Ambrose observed her with growing interest - her appearance had suggested mature sophistication, making this awkward, enthusiastic personality all the more intriguing. He reached out and patted her head gently, causing her to look up with wide eyes.


    "It¡¯s okay, I understand," Ambrose reassured her with gentle patience. The nurse¡¯s eyes lit up with renewed enthusiasm.


    "Really? Can I?" At his confirming nod, she practically bounded off the examination bed, her earlier professional demeanor completely forgotten in her excitement. She rushed to retrieve a fresh needle pack, her movements carrying an almost aggressive eagerness as she tore open the sterile packaging.


    In her haste to return to Ambrose, she failed to notice her lab coat tangling around her feet. Her momentum carried her forward as she stumbled, sending her flying toward him with a startled cry. She expected to land on him but instead of colliding with him directly, she landed face-first on the bed sheets beside him.


    "Are you okay?" Ambrose asked softly, patting her back with gentle concern. His mind couldn¡¯t help but question the convenient timing of her fall. Was this genuine clumsiness, or was it¡­


    Before he could pursue that line of thought, she sprang up from the bed, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I¡¯m so sorry! I was just excited and I... I..." Her stammering seemed genuinely mortified, making him question his own suspicions.


    Ambrose studied her flustered attempts at explanation, a small smile forming on his lips. Perhaps he was overthinking things after all. "It¡¯s okay, no one was hurt," he assured her. Seeing that her embarrassment might keep them there indefinitely, he extended his arm in a clear invitation to proceed with the blood draw.


    After she finally collected her sample, Ambrose examined the small puncture wound as he left the infirmary. The system¡¯s earlier notification about his increased weakness suddenly connected with disturbing clarity in his mind. His unusually pale complexion, combined with the blood he¡¯d sacrificed to revive Hualing - it all pointed to one concerning conclusion.


    "It doesn¡¯t regenerate," he murmured to himself, understanding another fundamental limitation of his condition.


    ¡­


    The moment Ambrose¡¯s footsteps faded from the corridor, an extraordinary transformation overtook Nurse Elena. Her bubbly, flustered demeanor vanished like morning mist, replaced by a cold, calculating expression that seemed far more natural on her features. With precise, practiced movements, she secured the infirmary - doors locked, curtains drawn, creating a bubble of perfect privacy.


    She approached one of the medical cabinets with purposeful strides, no trace of her earlier clumsiness. Hidden behind mundane medical supplies lay her true objective: a massive crystalline sphere, its surface swimming with otherworldly depths. She placed it carefully on the examination table, her hands moving through a series of complex gestures as she channeled her magic into the artifact.


    The crystal¡¯s clouded interior shifted, eventually resolving into a figure wearing an elaborately crafted snake mask. Even through the magical connection, his impatience was palpable.


    "What is it?" the masked figure demanded, his masculine voice carrying a sharp edge. "Didn¡¯t I tell you not to contact me without something important?"


    Elena¡¯s response was to hold up a clear glass vial, its contents a rich crimson. "I got it," she announced, her voice steady despite her obvious nervousness.


    The snake-masked figure¡¯s posture shifted, betraying genuine surprise. "How did you get it?" Disbelief colored his tone - and genuinely so, acquiring blood from the Rothschild heir shouldn¡¯t have been this simple.


    "He came for a checkup," Elena explained, her words carefully measured. "I told him I wanted it for research purposes, and he... just gave it to me."


    A laugh erupted from behind the snake mask, equal parts amused and incredulous. "So it was that simple?" He paused briefly. "Good work."


    Elena¡¯s professional facade cracked slightly, hope creeping into her voice. "Then... about my..."


    "No need to get impatient," he cut her off smoothly. "I will keep my promise." His words seemed to ease some of her tension, though anxiety still lined her features. "You just have to do one more task for me."


    Her eyes widened at this additional requirement, but he quickly added, "It won¡¯t be so difficult this time," punctuating the statement with a knowing chuckle.


    Changing topics abruptly, he pressed for more information. "When you examined him, did you notice anything?"


    Elena¡¯s brow furrowed in concentration. "When I deliberately stumbled toward him, he used teleportation magic."


    "Teleportation magic?" The snake mask tilted thoughtfully. "Probably just a spatial treasure." He paused. "Anything else?"


    "I detected some form of charm technique," she reported, touching her chin pensively. "Though it seemed... passive. As if he wasn¡¯t actively using it."


    "Charm technique, huh?" The figure seemed to ponder this new information before offering a curt, "Okay, nice work."


    Hope surged in Elena¡¯s expression once more. "So, about..." But the crystal clouded over, the connection severed without ceremony.


    She stared at the now-dormant sphere for a long moment before lashing out, her foot connecting with the table leg. The crystal bounced precariously but held steady. Elena¡¯s composed facade finally shattered completely as she collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [VOLUME 2 END]


    A/N - Thanks everyone for taking the time to read my work. What should we call this volume?

 Chapter 79: He Knows

    [VOLUME 3 START]


    My dearest children, Theodore and Adelaide,


    By the time you read this letter, I will have already departed on a journey of indeterminate length. There are matters that require my personal attention, matters that cannot be entrusted to messengers or handled through correspondence.


    Theodore, as my eldest surviving son, I hereby entrust you with the full management of our family¡¯s holdings and interests. The necessary documentation has been prepared and left with our family solicitor. I trust you will handle this responsibility with the wisdom and prudence I have tried to instill in you over the years.


    Adelaide, my bright star, continue to forge your own path. Your determination has always been your greatest strength, even when others failed to see it. Know that wherever I am, I carry pride in your accomplishments.


    Theodore, while I know you and your sister have chosen different paths, I ask that you keep watch over her from time to time. Not to guide her choices¡ªshe has proven more than capable in that regard¡ªbut simply to ensure she knows she has family to turn to should she ever require it.


    To both of you: The world is changing rapidly around us, and the old ways of doing things may not serve us much longer. Learn to adapt, but more importantly, learn to rely on each other. Whatever differences have divided you in the past, remember that you are family. That bond should mean something, especially in times of hardship.


    I have faith that you will both continue to grow stronger in my absence.


    Until we meet again,


    Your father,


    Maximilian Brightwell


    ¡­


    Theodore¡¯s Study


    Theodore Brightwell sat alone in his dimly lit study, the heavy oak desk before him cluttered with ledgers and correspondence from the family business. Amber lamplight cast long shadows across the room as he held the letter from his father, the parchment crinkling softly between his fingers. His eyes moved methodically over each line, absorbing Maximilian¡¯s carefully chosen words.


    As he finished reading, Theodore set the letter down and released a deep, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken familial history. The corners of his mouth turned downward as he leaned back in his leather chair, which creaked under his shifting weight.


    "So he knew," Theodore whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "Of course he knew."


    From the letter¡¯s measured tone, it was clear that their father had already pieced together what had happened with Sebastian. Yet Maximilian had chosen not to confront him directly, instead bestowing upon Theodore full control of the Brightwell fortune and business interests¡ªeverything he had schemed for years to acquire.


    Theodore¡¯s fingers drummed against the polished wood of his desk, a hollow victory settling over him. The wealth and power he¡¯d coveted for so long were finally his, all neatly transferred through proper documentation waiting at the family solicitor¡¯s office. No resistance, no final test of worthiness. Just... given.


    Strange emptiness gnawed at him where satisfaction should have bloomed. He couldn¡¯t quite identify the feeling¡ªwas it guilt? Disappointment? The absence of the challenge he¡¯d prepared himself to overcome? Theodore stared at the family portrait hanging on the wall, his father¡¯s stern face looking back at him, and for the first time in years, he felt something akin to regret stirring within his chest.


    Crono Academy - Ambrose¡¯s Estate


    Meanwhile, within the meticulously maintained gardens of Ambrose¡¯s estate on the academy grounds, Adelaide sat on an ornate stone bench beneath a flowering cherry tree. Pink blossoms occasionally drifted down around her, speckling her honey-blonde hair as she held her father¡¯s letter, reading it through for the third time.


    Her expression remained carefully composed, her training as a merchant¡¯s daughter evident in the way she controlled her reactions. Objectively speaking, the letter offered her nothing tangible¡ªno inheritance, no business shares, no material advantage she could leverage. Yet something in her father¡¯s carefully chosen words stirred an unfamiliar protective instinct within her.


    Adelaide¡¯s fingers traced over the line about being his "bright star" as she recognized the subtle undercurrent of pain woven between her father¡¯s formal farewell. Though Maximilian Brightwell had always been stoic and reserved, she could sense his genuine concern¡ªperhaps even fear¡ªhidden beneath his measured prose.


    With practiced efficiency, she folded the letter along its creases and slipped it into the inner pocket of her academy jacket, close to her heart. As she did so, the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path alerted her to another¡¯s presence.


    "It¡¯s almost time for the ranking exams," Liu Meihua called out as she approached, her academy uniform immaculately pressed, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Wanna walk together?"


    Adelaide rose from the bench with fluid grace, brushing a few stray blossoms from her skirt. "Sure," she replied, falling into step beside her friend.


    As they walked along the path leading back toward the academy¡¯s main buildings, Adelaide¡¯s thoughts remained with her father. The letter had mentioned "matters that cannot be entrusted to messengers"¡ªwords that spoke of danger and secrecy. Though she maintained her composed exterior, inwardly she hoped that whatever mission had called Maximilian Brightwell away wouldn¡¯t lead him into peril beyond his ability to escape.


    ¡­


    The Holy Sanctuary - Silverbrook Branch


    The cathedral of Aurora, goddess of light, towered over Silverbrook city¡ªa magnificent testament to faith constructed from pristine white marble and adorned with intricate stained glass windows that cast kaleidoscopic patterns across the polished stone floor. Vaulted ceilings soared heavenward, supported by columns engraved with scenes of divine triumph over darkness. The air hung heavy with incense, golden candelabras illuminating pews where the faithful knelt in prayer, their whispered supplications creating a gentle murmur that echoed throughout the vast chamber.


    It was amid this scene of serene devotion that Maximilian Brightwell¡ªonce-proud head of the Golden Compass Trading Company¡ªnow stood disheveled before a young priest. His once-immaculate attire had grown wrinkled and travel-worn, his normally well-groomed beard now unkempt.


    "Can you help me exorcise this creature?" Maximilian asked with unexpected directness, pointing emphatically at something perched on his right shoulder. His voice, though lowered in deference to the sacred space, carried the unmistakable authority of a man accustomed to command.


    "Is this what a church looks like? It¡¯s so boring," the entity on his shoulder remarked, its voice childlike. It twisted its head to examine the sacred imagery with obvious disinterest.


    Maximilian ignored the creature¡¯s commentary, focusing intently on the young priest before him. The cleric, dressed in pristine white robes embroidered with golden thread, studied the merchant with barely concealed skepticism. He looked at Maximilian from top to bottom, he wondered what this homeless man was doing here, and creature? What creature? He couldn¡¯t see it, the man was just pointing at his shoulder, did he have some sort of mental illness? But the priest didn¡¯t show his suspicion externally and just smiled at him.


    "What creature?" the priest inquired politely, his gaze flickered briefly to Maximilian¡¯s empty shoulder, then back to the man¡¯s face.


    "The creature on my shoulder," Maximilian replied impatiently, jabbing his finger toward the entity once more. Frustration edged his voice as he added, "Right here."


    "I¡¯m not a creature," the entity protested with a tone that resembled a pouting child. "My name is Fragment."


    Maximilian¡¯s brow furrowed deeper. "Can¡¯t you see it?" he demanded, reaching up to pluck the Fragment from his shoulder. He held it before the priest¡¯s face, his expression expectant.


    The priest¡¯s professionally composed smile faltered momentarily. Several parishioners nearby had begun to notice the exchange, their prayers interrupted by the unusual spectacle. The cleric¡¯s mouth twitched slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. What creature? It¡¯s clearly your hand!


    "That¡¯s just your hand, sir," the priest explained gently, the careful tone one might use with someone in delicate mental condition.


    Shock registered across Maximilian¡¯s weathered features, his eyes widening as he stared at the Fragment in his palm, then back to the uncomprehending priest.


    "Oh! I just remembered," the Fragment chirped, its form bubbling with what appeared to be amusement. "Only you can see me."


    "What?" Maximilian hissed, lowering his voice as he noticed the growing audience of curious onlookers. "How does that even work?"


    The Fragment seemed to consider this, putting its hand on its chin thoughtfully "Usually, only the contractor can see the fragment, and even that is rare," it explained, as if reciting from some internal manual of demonic protocols. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then how come I can see you?" Maximilian pressed.


    "I don¡¯t know either. It just happened."


    "Sir? Sir? Sir?" The priest¡¯s increasingly concerned voice finally penetrated Maximilian¡¯s absorption in this private conversation. The young cleric had stepped closer, his expression now openly troubled as he watched the merchant apparently conversing with his empty palm.


    A small crowd had gathered at a respectful distance, their whispers adding to the cathedral¡¯s ambient sounds. Some made subtle warding gestures, while others looked on with pity or curiosity.


    The priest leaned forward, examining Maximilian¡¯s hand with genuine concern. Despite years of spiritual training, he could sense nothing unusual¡ªno dark energy, no divine presence, simply nothing beyond ordinary flesh and bone.


    "Sir? Are you okay? Do you need any help?" the priest asked, his voice gentle but firm. He reached into his robes and produced a small crystal vial filled with clear liquid. "If you want, I can..."


    Before he could complete his offer, Maximilian¡¯s hand shot out with surprising speed, snatching the vial from the priest¡¯s grasp.


    "Gimme that," he muttered, pocketing the holy water. With his other hand, he tossed a leather pouch that landed with a heavy clink at the priest¡¯s feet. The unmistakable sound of gold pieces shifting against one another echoed in the sudden silence.


    Without another word, Maximilian turned and strode toward the cathedral¡¯s massive doors, his once-regal bearing reasserting itself despite his haggard appearance. The crowd parted before him, a mixture of fear and fascination in their eyes.


    The young priest stood momentarily stunned, then bent to retrieve the pouch. Loosening its drawstring, he peered inside and gasped at the gleam of pure gold coins¡ªmore than enough to fund the cathedral¡¯s charitable works for months. His head snapped up, scanning the retreating figure.


    "Sir!" he called, hurrying after Maximilian. However, the merchant had already vanished into the bustling throng outside the cathedral doors, leaving the priest holding the unexpected bounty, confusion etched across his youthful features.


    ¡­


    Miles outside the city walls, Maximilian sat heavily on a moss-covered boulder at the edge of the forest road. The afternoon sun filtered through ancient trees, casting dappled shadows across his exhausted face. Beside him, the Fragment hovered, its form more defined in the natural setting away from prying eyes.


    Maximilian studied the crystal vial of holy water in his hand, turning it to catch the sunlight. The liquid within sparkled with an inner luminescence that seemed more than natural.


    "What¡¯s that? A snack?" the Fragment inquired, drifting closer to examine the vial.


    A wry smile tugged at Maximilian¡¯s lips¡ªthe first genuine expression of amusement he¡¯d shown in days. "Do you want it?" he asked half-jokingly, holding the vial toward the entity.


    He expected the creature to recoil, assuming that holy water would naturally repel something of demonic origin. Instead, to his astonishment, the Fragment¡¯s form liquefied entirely, transforming into a glistening puddle that slithered onto his palm.


    In one swift motion, the entity engulfed both the vial and its contents, absorbing them completely. The Fragment¡¯s body pulsated with brief flashes of golden light before reconstituting into its previous form.


    "That was delicious!" it proclaimed, its upper limb forming a distinct thumbs-up gesture. "Do you have more?"


    Maximilian¡¯s mouth hung open in disbelief. Every tale, every scripture, every merchant¡¯s story of the supernatural he¡¯d ever encountered insisted that demons should cower before divine power¡ªnot consume it like a delicacy.


    [TO BE CONTINUED¡­]


    A/N - Let¡¯s leave these two¡¯s story here for now. To be honest, I don¡¯t exactly know what to do with their characters, I¡¯ll let it marinate for a while as I think of something. If you have any ideas, you can also comment them. Going back to Ambrose¡­

 Chapter 80: Mid-Level Boss

    The Academy Arena


    The grand Crono Academy arena sprawled like a colosseum of old, its white marble columns and enchanted reinforced walls rising majestically against the afternoon sky. Students flooded through the numerous arched entrances, their excited chatter creating a symphony of anticipation that echoed across the massive stone structure. The tiered seating areas filled rapidly as spectators jostled for the best views, colorful academy uniforms dotting the stands like wildflowers in a meadow.


    Even seniors from the upper years had abandoned their usual aloofness to witness today¡¯s proceedings, their presence lending an air of unusual significance to the event. The arena floor, typically pristine white sand enchanted to absorb impacts and blood alike, gleamed under the afternoon sun as if freshly raked for the occasion.


    In a small clearing near the eastern entrance, Hualing, Marcus, and Ambrose stood apart from the crowd, isolated not by physical distance but by the invisible barrier of reputation and fear. Students cast furtive glances in their direction, conversations hushing momentarily whenever the trio moved, only to resume with increased fervor once they passed.


    Marcus surveyed the scene with measured calm, his sharp eyes cataloging each whispered exchange, each pointed finger. The weight of countless stares pressed against his consciousness like a physical force.


    I wanted to maintain a low profile until I¡¯d accumulated enough power, he thought, absently adjusting the training sword at his hip. But it seems that option is no longer available to me.


    He glanced sideways at Ambrose, who stood with the quiet dignity that seemed inherent to those born into the Rothschild lineage, regardless of their actual combat capabilities.


    It¡¯s not all bad, though, Marcus continued his internal assessment. At this point in my previous life, I was still struggling with basic sword forms. Now... S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A small smile curved his lips as he noted a cluster of senior students hovering at the arena¡¯s edge, their predatory gazes scanning the crowd for easy targets. In his first life, those same seniors would have descended upon new students like vultures, establishing dominance through intimidation and occasionally force. He could see similar scenes playing out across the arena¡ªfreshmen cornered, shoulders hunched in defensive postures.


    Yet here they stood, untouched. The seniors¡¯ gazes slid past their group like water around stones, seeking easier prey. The unspoken acknowledgment of their status¡ªor perhaps their danger¡ªprovided a shield more effective than any magical barrier.


    As Marcus watched the familiar pattern of senior intimidation with a mixture of pity and detachment, a flash of red hair caught his peripheral vision. Turning slightly, he spotted Adelaide and Meihua on the far side of the arena floor, their path blocked by a group of male students whose aggressive stances spoke volumes about their intentions.


    ¡­


    The afternoon sun cast long shadows through Crono Academy¡¯s arena walls, the golden light catching dust motes that danced through the air. Adelaide and Meihua were walking together to reunite with the rest of the group when they encountered some unwanted company.


    "Well, if it isn¡¯t Maximilian¡¯s daughter and her little friend. How about joining us for some... private tutoring?" A tall senior blocked their path, his Crono Academy badge gleaming with the three stripes that marked third-year students. Three more seniors flanked him, effectively cutting off any escape route.


    Meihua¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, her Calculation talent already running probabilities, her mind processing countless scenarios with mechanical precision. Adelaide maintained her merchant¡¯s smile, though her hand tightened on her bookstrap, knuckles whitening slightly with controlled tension.


    "We appreciate the offer, senior, but we have prior commitments," Adelaide replied with practiced politeness, her voice steady despite the situation, carrying the polished tone she¡¯d perfected through countless business negotiations at her father¡¯s side.


    "Oh? Playing hard to get? Your family¡¯s not exactly in a position to be picky anymore, Brightwell." Another senior stepped closer, mock concern dripping from his voice as he invaded her personal space with deliberate slowness. "Haven¡¯t you heard? Your father¡¯s gone missing. The Golden Compass Trading Company is practically celebrating."


    Adelaide¡¯s smile didn¡¯t waver, but something cold flickered in her eyes¡ªa momentary glimpse of the steel beneath her courteous exterior. "My family¡¯s circumstances are none of your concern."


    "Think of it as networking," the first senior smirked, fidgeting with a mana crystal between his fingers, the blue light pulsing slightly with his agitation. "Isn¡¯t that what merchant families do best? Though I suppose you¡¯re not much of a merchant anymore, are you?"


    "You need to learn how to listen," a quiet voice cut through the tension like a blade through silk, "they said they¡¯re not interested."


    Marcus stood between the girls and the seniors, having crossed the arena floor with deceptive casualness. His sword rested against his shoulder. His eyes, cold and assessing, studied the seniors with the detached interest of a predator evaluating potential threats.


    "Who are you?" one of the seniors spat, momentarily caught off-guard by the interruption. "This doesn¡¯t concern you."


    "That¡¯s where you are wrong." Marcus¡¯s voice remained level, unhurried. "This does indeed concern me." A small, cold smile played at his lips, never reaching his eyes. "After all, we are from the same party."


    "Hahaha, ¡¯we are from the same party.¡¯" The lead senior imitated Marcus¡¯s tone mockingly, confidence returning as he squared his shoulders. "Do you even know what a party is? Just because you formed a group with your fellow trash, don¡¯t think that you¡ª"


    The senior never finished his sentence. Between one heartbeat and the next, Marcus had closed the distance, his movement a blur of precise efficiency. His sword now hovered a hair¡¯s breadth from the senior¡¯s throat, the blunted edge nonetheless carrying an unmistakable threat. The movement was so fast that only Meihua¡¯s Calculation talent had tracked it properly, her eyes widening slightly at the display of speed. Has he gotten stronger again?


    "Think that I¡¯m what?" Marcus asked quietly, his breath barely disturbing the air between them. "Please, continue. I¡¯m curious."


    The scene fell silent, the ambient noise of the arena seeming to recede as the confrontation crystallized into a moment of suspended tension. The other seniors took involuntary steps backward, their earlier bravado evaporating like morning dew under the weight of Marcus¡¯s cold stare.


    "Is there a problem here?" A new voice joined in, measured and authoritative.


    Professor Jonathan Brightfield, who taught Etiquette and Noble Customs, approached with measured steps, his immaculate attire and perfect posture embodying the very principles he instructed. His sharp eyes, missing nothing despite his advanced age, took in the scene with a single comprehensive glance¡ªthe positioned sword, the seniors¡¯ defensive postures, the composed expressions of Adelaide and Meihua.


    ¡­


    Professor Jonathan Brightfield carefully took in the situation before him, his experienced eyes methodically assessing each individual involved. His gaze lingered first on the four senior students¡ªnoting their polished boots, the quality of their uniforms, and the subtle family crests embroidered on their collars¡ªunmistakable markers of noble lineage. Then his attention shifted to Marcus, Adelaide, and Meihua, taking in their simpler attire and the absence of noble bearing that was so ingrained it couldn¡¯t be mimicked.


    A nearly imperceptible tightening around his mouth betrayed his inner thoughts before his features arranged themselves into an expression of moral indignation. The disgust in his eyes was fleeting but unmistakable, like a shadow passing over still water.


    "How dare you point a sword at a nobleman¡ª" he began, his voice carrying the weight of entrenched prejudice before he caught himself, eyes darting to the growing crowd around them. "I mean, do you know drawing your sword on academy grounds is illegal?" he corrected, straightening his already impeccable jacket.


    Marcus slowly lowered his training sword but maintained his position between the girls and the seniors, his eyes never leaving Professor Jonathan¡¯s face. You aren¡¯t fooling anybody.


    Meihua observed the professor, her mind automatically cataloging the scene against the knowledge stored in her memory. Jonathan Brightfield¡ªminor antagonist, chapter twelve through seventeen. Harbors pathological hatred for commoners. Always causing trouble for Marcus until he¡¯s eventually defeated. Defects to the demon faction during the Great War, only to be off-screened. She felt an unexpected twinge of pity for the man. In the grand narrative, he was barely a footnote¡ªnot even a real character, just an NPC whose sole purpose was to create temporary obstacles.


    The commotion had drawn more spectators, students forming a loose circle around the confrontation. Whispers rippled through the crowd, most expressing sympathy for the "poor commoners" who had unwittingly drawn Professor Jonathan¡¯s notorious attention. Few nobles survived his classes without connections, and commoners? They rarely survived them at all.


    On the periphery of the gathering throng, Ambrose observed the unfolding drama with analytical interest. He had noticed the situation developing earlier and had been monitoring it with the same meticulous attention he applied to all strategic matters.


    "As expected of the main character," he thought, watching Marcus¡¯s confident stance. "I just looked away for a second, and you¡¯re already rescuing the damsel in distress." The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement at the predictability of heroic archetypes¡ªeven when the heroes themselves were unaware of their roles.


    His gaze shifted to Professor Jonathan, noting the man¡¯s thinly veiled prejudice and the calculated way he was positioning himself to maximize Marcus¡¯s disadvantage.


    "But still," Ambrose sighed internally, "you leave my side for just one second, and you¡¯ve already aggroed a minor boss."


    But seeing as his party was being bullied, he couldn¡¯t just stand by and watch. With deliberate casualness, he began drifting with the moving crowd toward the center of the action, his mind already cycling through potential solutions.


    Hualing followed at his side like a shadow, her movements fluid and precise. Yet her attention wasn¡¯t on the confrontation at all¡ªher eyes remained fixed on Ambrose, studying the subtle shifts in his expression with devoted intensity.


    "As expected of the master," she thought admiringly. "Even in such a huge crowd, he¡¯s so calm and collected. As expected, he only cares about me." Her heart swelled with pride and possessiveness.


    "Wait, wait, wait," Minghua¡¯s voice echoed within their shared consciousness, exasperation evident in her tone. "How did you even come to that conclusion?"


    "Isn¡¯t it obvious?" Hualing responded mentally, her inner voice carrying absolute conviction.


    Minghua¡¯s presence within their shared mindscape seemed to slump in defeat. "You¡¯re too far gone. You can¡¯t be saved."

 Chapter 81: Someone Is In Trouble

    Marcus¡¯s face contorted with bitter recognition as Professor Jonathan approached. This wasn¡¯t their first encounter¡ªin his previous life, Jonathan had been a persistent thorn in his side, working tirelessly behind the scenes to make his academy experience miserable, all because he committed the unforgivable sin of being born a commoner.


    Things are getting complicated, Marcus thought, the weight of history pressing down on him. Although the seniors were clearly the aggressors, harassing Adelaide and Meihua, he knew he¡¯d made a tactical error by drawing his weapon. Even in self-defense, such actions on academy grounds were forbidden. And who would listen to his side of the story? The word of a commoner against nobles? In this world of rigid hierarchies, he already knew the verdict.


    With reluctance, Marcus lowered his sword, feeling the situation slipping further from his control. Yet despite knowing he¡¯d likely made things worse, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to back down. Some principles transcended consequences.


    "They were the ones harassing us first so..." Marcus began, his voice steady despite the rising tension.


    Jonathan cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Harassing?" The professor¡¯s voice dripped with mockery, his eyes gleaming with self-righteous indignation. "And you felt that it was appropriate to draw your weapon?"


    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathering crowd. The professor¡¯s words had struck a chord, particularly among the upperclassmen and nobles who formed the arena¡¯s majority.


    "Indeed, even though they were being harassed, it¡¯s just some jokes. Why did he have to pull out his sword?" The whispers grew louder, more confident, as noble after noble voiced their support for Jonathan¡¯s position.


    The professor¡¯s thin lips curved into a satisfied smile as he sensed the tide turning in his favor. The crowd was coalescing behind him, reinforcing the natural order of things¡ªcommoners being put in their place.


    Marcus stared at Jonathan, bitterness crystallizing in his chest. How had he forgotten this fundamental truth? This world operated on a simple principle: those with status could trample those beneath them without consequence. The nobility¡¯s superiority wasn¡¯t just a social construct; it was treated as natural law.


    As Marcus felt himself spiraling into familiar despair, a clear voice sliced through the jeers of the crowd like a blade through silk.


    "I asked him to do it!"


    The voice wasn¡¯t loud, but it carried an unmistakable weight of confidence and authority. Marcus¡¯s head snapped up, searching for the source. His eyes locked with Ambrose¡¯s, who offered him a reassuring smile from the edge of the clearing.


    That¡¯s right, Marcus thought, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. I¡¯m not alone this time. There are still people who care.


    In Ambrose¡¯s mind, he sighed at the scene unfolding before him. Marcus¡¯s intentions were noble, but his impulsive nature would continue getting him into trouble. His friend needed to learn to think before acting, or he¡¯d easily fall victim to others¡¯ machinations. This tendency toward reckless heroism needed tempering if Marcus was to survive the academy¡¯s political landscape.


    Ambrose approached with measured steps, the crowd parting before him like water around a stone. They left a wide berth around him¡ªpartly out of recognition of his status, but mostly because of Hualing, who shadowed him with predatory grace. Unlike Marcus, who had sheathed his weapon, Hualing openly brandished her sword as if the previous conversation about weapon regulations held no relevance to her whatsoever.


    Professor Jonathan noticed the sudden shift in atmosphere, the enthusiasm of his supporters waning. He turned to identify who commanded such respect from the assembled nobles, only to find himself face-to-face with Ambrose Rothschild, who greeted him with a casual wave and disarming smile.


    Jonathan¡¯s eyes widened in shock. As the instructor of Etiquette and Noble Customs, he prided himself on his encyclopedic knowledge of the kingdom¡¯s aristocracy. He instantly recognized the heir to the Rothschild family¡ªperhaps the most powerful noble house in the entire kingdom.


    His mind raced. How could the Rothschild heir have ordered this? Then a memory surfaced¡ªwhen reviewing the enrollment records, he¡¯d noted that Ambrose had associated himself with a party of commoners. He hadn¡¯t paid much attention at the time; commoners were beneath his notice. But now, looking at Marcus, Adelaide, Meihua, and then back to Ambrose and Hualing, the five-person party stood complete before him.


    Jonathan gritted his teeth, trapped by his own actions. He had already staked his reputation on this confrontation. Backing down now, even before the Rothschild heir, would destroy his standing among his peers. Worse still, it would mean conceding victory to these commoners.


    The lines had been drawn. For Jonathan, retreat was no longer an option.


    ¡­


    Professor Jonathan¡¯s gaze shifted between the assembled group and Ambrose, his teeth grinding together as his mind raced through possible scenarios. A cold calculation formed behind his eyes. Surely Ambrose Rothschild was cut from the same cloth as himself¡ªa noble playing the game of influence and manipulation. The Rothschild heir couldn¡¯t possibly care about these commoners; he must be orchestrating this intervention merely to curry favor and secure their loyalty.


    His attention settled on Liu Meihua. Though lacking noble heritage, her reputation preceded her¡ªthe highest-ranked talent in the entire freshman class. The pieces clicked together in Jonathan¡¯s mind. Of course. Ambrose was clearly staging this heroic intervention to win over the prodigy. Such a valuable asset would be worth the momentary inconvenience of defending commoners.


    A smug satisfaction bloomed within Jonathan as he formulated his strategy. He would punish Marcus for his transgression while releasing the girls, citing Ambrose¡¯s interference as justification. This approach would allow him to maintain his reputation while simultaneously positioning himself as doing a favor for the Rothschild heir. The girls would be grateful to him, and he¡¯d forge a potentially valuable connection with the kingdom¡¯s most powerful family. A perfect resolution¡ªelegant, practical, and beneficial to all parties that mattered. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Young master," Jonathan began, his voice adopting the deferential tone reserved for those of superior rank, "although your family is influential, in the academy, everyone is equal, so I can¡¯t make exceptions just for you."


    Ambrose stared back at him with an expression of profound disbelief, as if Jonathan had just declared the sky to be green. The professor¡¯s invocation of equality was perhaps the most transparently false statement uttered within the academy walls that day. Everyone present knew the truth: Crono Academy was a battleground of politics and schemes. Even without formal social hierarchy, new power structures inevitably formed¡ªsenior classes, talent rankings, combat tiers, family connections. The supposed equality was nothing more than a convenient fiction maintained to give the appearance of meritocracy.


    "But," Jonathan continued, his smile widening with the self-satisfaction of a salesman about to close a favorable deal, "since the young master has requested, I can let off the two girls since they weren¡¯t the ones who drew the weapon."


    Ambrose¡¯s face went completely blank, as if his mind were struggling to process the sheer absurdity of what he was hearing.


    Beside him, Meihua couldn¡¯t contain herself any longer. A small chuckle escaped her lips as she observed the spectacular misjudgment unfolding before her. She could clearly tell what Jonathan was thinking, but in the brief time she had spent with Ambrose, she had come to understand his character well enough to recognize that Jonathan¡¯s assessment couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. Adelaide joined her, both girls¡¯ laughter building until they were openly amused at the professor¡¯s profound misreading of the situation.


    Jonathan stared at them in confusion. Why were they laughing? He was offering them clemency. Their reaction made no sense within his narrowly conceived worldview.


    "Let off?" Ambrose¡¯s voice cut through the laughter like a blade through paper. The playful demeanor he had maintained earlier had vanished entirely, replaced by something harder and colder. "Is this what Crono Academy¡¯s professors are like?"


    His words fell like stones in still water, sending ripples of silence through the crowd. By now, several hundred students had gathered to witness the confrontation, their collective breath held as Ambrose continued.


    "How can you use the word ¡¯let off¡¯ when you¡¯re talking about the victims?" he demanded, his tone causing Jonathan¡¯s plastered smile to falter and then collapse entirely. "I¡¯m an observer," Ambrose stated with quiet authority, "so I heard and saw everything that happened between my party members and the seniors who were harassing them."


    He gestured toward Marcus. "And I sent Marcus to help them," he continued, the deliberate fabrication serving to protect his friend.


    Marcus¡¯s eyes widened at Ambrose¡¯s words, a sparkle of admiration illuminating them. Though he had chosen to intervene on his own initiative, the young master was covering for him, shouldering the responsibility that might otherwise fall upon him alone.


    "But now he¡¯s being treated as the one in the wrong?" Ambrose asked, his voice carrying just the right note of incredulity to make everyone question their assumptions.


    The murmurs began immediately, sweeping through the crowd like wildfire. Public opinion, that most fickle of forces, shifted with dizzying rapidity away from Jonathan.


    "Yeah, I also saw it," one student called out from the anonymity of the crowd.


    "This professor has always oppressed others," another added, emboldened by the collective turn of sentiment.


    "I knew he wasn¡¯t a nice person from the start," a third voice chimed in.


    Like dominoes falling in sequence, the crowd¡¯s allegiance collapsed and reformed around Ambrose. The very same people who had supported Jonathan minutes before now regarded him with expressions of disgust and moral superiority, as if they had always stood against him. The irony was palpable¡ªjust as they had turned against those weaker than themselves to curry Jonathan¡¯s favor, they now turned against Jonathan himself in service to someone of even greater status.


    Jonathan stared around him in mounting horror. Where once he had seen allies and supporters, he now faced a sea of hostile faces, each looking at him as if he were the embodiment of everything wrong with the academy system. The speed with which they had abandoned him was breathtaking, a stark reminder of the fragility of reputation in this world of power and privilege.


    In the midst of this public unraveling, a voice resonated through the arena, carried by some subtle magic that ensured it reached every ear with perfect clarity.


    "Jonathan Brightfield, please come to my office."


    The collected students recognized the voice immediately¡ªPrincipal Cassandra Blackvale. The command carried an unmistakable gravity that silenced even the whispers of the crowd. All eyes turned toward Jonathan, watching for his reaction to this final, damning development.


    For Jonathan, in that moment, the arena might as well have been a scaffold, and those hundreds of eyes the witnesses to his professional execution.


    A/N - Marcus is the embodiment of the clich¨¦ main character. I¡¯m trying to write some scenes of him doing some face slapping but sometimes, like this scene, it doesn¡¯t work. Unless it¡¯s a matter of pure combat ability, the world doesn¡¯t seem to favor him lol.

 Chapter 82: The Mad Generation

    The marble corridors of Crono Academy¡¯s administrative wing echoed with Jonathan Brightfield¡¯s hesitant footsteps. Each click of his heels against the polished floor seemed to punctuate his mounting anxiety as he approached the ornate double doors of Principal Cassandra Blackvale¡¯s office. His mind raced with possibilities¡ªhad she somehow witnessed the commotion in the arena? Had someone reported him?


    No matter, he reassured himself, straightening his already impeccable jacket with trembling fingers. I¡¯ve done nothing wrong. Following proper protocol. Upholding academy standards.


    The carved wooden doors loomed before him, intricate magical sigils etched into their frame¡ªprotection against eavesdropping, he knew. With a deep breath that did little to steady his nerves, Jonathan raised his hand and knocked softly.


    No response came.


    After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he pushed the door open, wincing at the slight creak of ancient hinges. The spacious office beyond was bathed in afternoon sunlight streaming through tall windows that overlooked the academy grounds. Dust motes danced in the golden beams, giving the room an almost ethereal quality.


    Principal Cassandra Blackvale sat behind a massive mahogany desk, her elegant fingers sorting through various documents with practiced efficiency. She didn¡¯t look up at his entrance. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jonathan¡¯s gaze lingered briefly on her features¡ªthe perfect symmetry of her face, the subtle glow of power that seemed to emanate from her very being, the flame-red hair that cascaded in gentle waves past her shoulders. Age had barely touched her, a testament to her formidable magical ability. She was, as always, breathtakingly beautiful, though he would never dare voice such thoughts aloud.


    He approached the desk with measured steps, his posture rigid with formality. There were two chairs positioned before her desk, yet he remained standing, hands clasped behind his back in the traditional posture of a subordinate awaiting judgment.


    Cassandra continued her work, not acknowledging his presence. The only sounds in the room were the occasional rustling of papers and the soft ticking of an ornate clockwork device on a nearby shelf. What stretched to perhaps a minute felt to Jonathan like an endless purgatory, sweat beading at his temples despite the pleasant temperature of the room.


    Finally, without looking up, the principal broke the oppressive silence.


    "Do you know why I called you here?" Her voice was melodic yet carried an undercurrent of steel, her attention never wavering from the documents before her.


    Jonathan stared at her, puzzled by the question¡¯s simplicity yet terrified of its implications. What kind of game was she playing? Was this a trap? His mind frantically sought the safest response.


    He composed his features into a mask of deference and spoke softly, "Is it because of the commotion outside?"


    "You tell me," she replied, the brevity of her response more unsettling than any lengthy admonishment could have been.


    Fucking bitch! The thought flashed through Jonathan¡¯s mind with startling vehemence, but externally, his lips curved into a nervous smile as he replied, "I will go handle it." The words tumbled out with artificial confidence, a transparent attempt to escape whatever punishment might await him.


    At that moment, Cassandra set down her papers with deliberate slowness. She raised her head, her piercing gaze locking directly with his. The full weight of her attention hit Jonathan like a physical force, and he felt a cold sweat break out across his back.


    Her eyes¡ªancient, knowing, calculating¡ªseemed to cut through his carefully constructed facade, laying bare every thought, every secret, every hidden prejudice he¡¯d ever harbored. He stood frozen, transfixed like prey before a predator.


    The legends of the "Mad Generation" flooded his mind¡ªthat extraordinary cohort of prodigies to which Victoria "The Mad Star" Rothschild belonged. A generation that had produced such fearsome figures as Friedrich "The Golden-Eyed Tyrant" Rothschild and Victoria herself. To have survived in such company, to have risen to prominence among such monsters disguised as humans¡ªwhat kind of terrifying power did Cassandra Blackvale possess?


    "Do you even know what you did wrong?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft yet laced with unmistakable menace.


    Jonathan felt as though he might collapse under her scrutiny. His throat constricted, words struggling to form. "I¡ªI acted without hearing out both sides," he stammered, not because he truly believed it, but because he desperately hoped it was what she wanted to hear.


    The principal released a weary sigh, her shoulders dropping almost imperceptibly. "This is your last warning," she stated flatly. Then, with finality: "Dismissed!"


    Jonathan didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and practically fled from the office, dignity forgotten in his desperate need to escape her presence. The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded like the sealing of a tomb.


    Alone once more, Cassandra leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in a rare display of fatigue. She was well aware of Jonathan¡¯s prejudices¡ªindeed, he wasn¡¯t unique among the faculty. Many professors harbored similar twisted views regarding class and status. She had allowed such attitudes to persist, not out of agreement but from a calculated indifference to matters that didn¡¯t directly threaten the academy¡¯s stability.


    Her intervention today had nothing to do with any sudden moral awakening. No, her motivation was far more pragmatic: self-preservation. If Jonathan continued harassing Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s party members and the boy complained to his mother¡ªto Victoria¡ªthe consequences would be catastrophic. Cassandra had no desire to die just yet, not over something so trivial as a professor¡¯s wounded pride.


    The principal¡¯s gaze drifted to the window, past the manicured academy grounds to the distant mountains beyond. Her mind traveled back through her memories of the previous week, to that fateful day when Victoria had summoned the Spirit King himself. He remembered the scene before Victoria officially left with the Spirit King. The memory of Victoria floating above them all, her emotionless face, wreathed in otherworldly power, and before she left, she appeared before, whispering something to her ear, her final words before departure echoing in Cassandra¡¯s mind like a half-forgotten nightmare...she sai¡­(you know the drill)


    A/N - lol, it¡¯s not that I¡¯m not telling you this time, it¡¯s just that I genuinely have no idea. I never thought about it, I just put it there in case I have a plot hole later. Do you guys have any suggestions?

 Chapter 83: Lets Have Some Fun

    Professor Jonathan Brightfield slammed the door of his office with such force that the framed certificates on the wall trembled, threatening to crash to the floor. The meticulously organized space¡ªnormally a testament to his obsession with order and hierarchy¡ªwas about to witness the unraveling of its master¡¯s composure.


    With a feral growl that would have shocked his students, Jonathan swept his arm across his mahogany desk. Inkwells crashed to the floor, splattering their contents across the expensive Xianhua carpet. Stacks of graded assignments scattered like autumn leaves, and his prized crystal paperweight¡ªa gift from a grateful noble family¡ªshattered against the far wall.


    "How dare they?" he seethed, his refined accent slipping as rage consumed him. "How dare they?"


    His perfectly manicured nails dug into his palms as he paced the length of his office, the humiliation of the day¡¯s events replaying in his mind with excruciating clarity. The students¡¯ faces swam before him¡ªtheir expressions morphing from deference to disgust in the span of a heartbeat, all because of that damned Rothschild heir¡¯s intervention.


    And then Cassandra¡¯s summoning, the public nature of it ensuring that every whisper in the academy for weeks would include his name. The knowing glances, the suppressed laughter, the inevitable decline in his standing among the faculty¡ªit was unbearable.


    "I did nothing wrong," he muttered, his voice trembling with indignation. "Nothing! Those filthy commoners should know their place. They should be grateful for the opportunity to breathe the same air as their betters!"


    "I was doing the world a favor goddammit!"


    In his frenzied state, Jonathan lurched toward an ornate cabinet in the corner of his office. His hands shook as he yanked open the drawer, rifling through meticulously organized files until he extracted a particular sheaf of papers¡ªthe comprehensive student records he had taken such pains to compile.


    He spread the documents across his desk, flipping through pages with growing intensity, past portraits and profiles of students he had marked for special attention¡ªthose who needed to be "taught their place" in the natural order of things.


    His finger stopped on a particular page, jabbing down with such force that the paper tore slightly. The portrait stared back at him¡ªa young man with serious eyes that seemed to hold a wisdom beyond his years. The calm confidence in that gaze only fueled Jonathan¡¯s hatred.


    "Marcus Turner," he hissed, the name passing through his lips like poison. His finger traced the information beneath the portrait¡ªcommoner background, top-level talent, exceptional swordsmanship scores. Each achievement listed was like salt in his wounds.


    "This is all your fault," Jonathan whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous register as he addressed the portrait as if the student stood before him. "You started this. You and your kind think you can rise above your station?" A twisted smile distorted his aristocratic features. "We¡¯ll see about that."


    His eyes gleamed with malevolent purpose as he began formulating his revenge. The Rothschild heir might be untouchable, but Marcus Turner was just a commoner¡ªno matter how talented. There were ways to break such students, subtle methods honed through years of practice.


    As the sounds of the ranking test beginning were heard from the arena, Professor Jonathan hunched over his desk, plotting the downfall of the student who had dared to challenge the natural order of his world.


    ¡­


    The descent into the academy¡¯s underbelly began with a door¡ªunmarked and unremarkable¡ªtucked behind a false wall in the infirmary storage closet. Elena slipped through this portal as she had countless times before, her movements practiced and efficient. The nurse¡¯s pristine white uniform stood in stark contrast to the darkness that swallowed her as the door sealed shut behind her.


    The tunnel stretched before her, a throat of rough-hewn stone that plunged deep beneath Crono Academy¡¯s manicured grounds. Guttering magical lights cast sickly green illumination at irregular intervals, their glow insufficient to banish the pressing darkness completely. The walls wept with constant moisture¡ªgroundwater seeping through ancient stone¡ªcreating a persistent, rhythmic dripping that echoed through the passageway like a maddening heartbeat. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Drip. Drip. Drip.


    Each step carried Elena deeper, the air growing thicker and fouler. The sterile antiseptic scent that clung to her uniform gradually surrendered to something more primal¡ªthe unmistakable metallic tang of blood mingled with the musty odor of unwashed bodies and festering wounds. The stench grew stronger as she progressed, a miasma of suffering that would have sent most recoiling in disgust.


    Elena¡¯s expression remained impassive, her features set in serious concentration. These tunnels, with their labyrinthine twists and sudden drops, could be treacherous for the uninitiated. One wrong turn could lead to sections that hadn¡¯t been maintained in centuries¡ªplaces where even the magical lights had failed, leaving only absolute darkness and whatever horrors might lurk within it.


    The narrow passage eventually widened, the ceiling rising until the tunnel opened into a vast underground chamber that defied expectations. The space resembled an enormous warehouse, easily spanning the area of the academy¡¯s main assembly hall. Unlike the tunnels, this chamber blazed with light¡ªmagical orbs embedded in the ceiling cast harsh, unforgiving illumination that left no corner in shadow.


    The stark lighting revealed the chamber¡¯s true purpose in merciless detail. Row upon row of metal cages filled the space, each containing a single occupant. These weren¡¯t conventional prisoners¡ªtheir emaciated limbs bound with heavy chains etched with glowing runes, bodies displaying evidence of systematic abuse. Bruises in various stages of healing mottled visible skin, some fresh and purple, others faded to sickly yellow. Many bore precise, ritualistic cuts that suggested methodical experimentation rather than simple torture.


    Some captives slumped in resignation, barely registering Elena¡¯s passage. Others flung themselves against their bars with feral desperation, eyes wide and uncomprehending. A few tracked her movement with calculating hatred, a dangerous intelligence still burning behind their eyes despite their circumstances.


    The nurse navigated between the rows with practiced ease, her footsteps measured and unhurried. Occasionally, a particularly aggressive prisoner would lunge toward her, chains rattling as they strained against their restraints, guttural growls emanating from throats that might have forgotten human speech. Elena paid them no attention, her focus unwavering as she made her way to the far wall.


    A solitary metal cabinet stood there, incongruously mundane amid the chamber of horrors. Elena approached and withdrew a small key from her uniform pocket, unlocking the cabinet with a metallic click that seemed unnaturally loud. From within, she removed a sleek black suitcase and placed it carefully on a nearby table.


    With clinical efficiency, Elena began to disrobe. Her uniform¡ªthe symbol of healing and care¡ªwas removed piece by piece, folded with meticulous precision, and set aside. The stark lighting revealed her form, but her expression remained detached, as if she were simply changing outfits after a shift.


    From the suitcase, she withdrew her alternative attire. First came the skintight black bodysuit that clung to every contour, fashioned from a material that gleamed like oil under the harsh lights. Over this, she fastened intricate leather harnesses studded with metal accents, creating a complex web of restraints that served no functional purpose beyond aesthetic intimidation. Her hands disappeared into elbow-length gloves tipped with silver claws at each finger. A domino mask¡ªsimple yet effective¡ªconcealed the upper portion of her face, transforming her familiar features into something alien and threatening.


    The final touch was the whip¡ªa length of braided leather ending in multiple tails, each tipped with a small metal barb that caught the light with malevolent promise. She wound the handle around her palm, the weapon an extension of her transformed self.


    With her transformation complete, Elena returned her discarded uniform to the suitcase and locked it away in the cabinet. Then, standing before the polished metal surface of the cabinet door, she pressed her hands to her face, fingers digging into the skin as if kneading clay. The movement seemed almost ritualistic, a physical manifestation of the internal shift taking place.


    When her hands fell away, Elena the nurse had vanished entirely. Her previously neutral expression had transformed into something altogether different¡ªlips curved in a flush-cheeked smile that spoke of anticipated pleasure, eyes wide with an unsettling hunger behind her mask. The change was so complete it seemed impossible that this was the same woman who had tended to students¡¯ minor injuries and illnesses just hours before.


    The whip cracked suddenly, the sharp sound reverberating through the chamber. Several prisoners flinched reflexively, conditioned responses suggesting this was a familiar prelude. Elena¡¯s smile widened at their reaction, her breathing noticeably quickening. Again and again, she snapped the whip, each crack seeming to fuel her visible excitement.


    With deliberate steps that now held a predatory grace entirely absent from her earlier movements, Elena prowled between the cages. She passed several prisoners without a second glance, clearly seeking a specific quarry. Finally, she stopped before a cage somewhat removed from the others.


    Unlike the majority of captives, the three occupants of this particular enclosure showed no signs of physical abuse. They sat alert and watchful, their postures suggesting readiness rather than defeat. One man with distinctly Xian features observed Elena with calculating eyes. Beside him, a woman with similar heritage watched with cold assessment. The third captive¡ªslightly older than his companions¡ªmaintained perfect stillness, only his eyes tracking Elena¡¯s movements.


    Elena recognized them immediately: Akira, Ruohan, and Min-jae¡ªthe imperial spies who had been captured by a freshman a few days ago.


    "Would you like to have some fun?" Elena purred, her voice unrecognizable from the professional, soothing tones she used in the infirmary. The words hung in the air, laden with sinister promise.


    As if responding to her voice, the cage door slid open automatically, magical locks disengaging with a soft hiss. Elena stepped forward, whip trailing behind her across the stone floor, anticipation radiating from her transformed persona.

 Chapter 84: Let The Show Begin

    The grand Crono Academy arena, a marvel of architecture and magical engineering, stood as a testament to the institution¡¯s prestige. This time, unlike the chaotic scene from earlier confrontations, the massive colosseum-like structure displayed perfect order. Thousands of students filled the tiered seating in neat rows, their academy uniforms creating a tapestry of colors against the white marble backdrop. The afternoon sun streamed through the enchanted ceiling, casting a warm glow across the gathered crowd.


    Despite the orderly seating, the air buzzed with excited conversations, whispers and theories bouncing between spectators like lightning in a storm cloud. Snippets of discussions floated through the arena, creating a symphony of speculation and gossip.


    "Did you hear? The Rothschild family patriarch fought General Autumn at the border," a senior student whispered dramatically to his companions.


    "I heard the Golden Compass Trading Company is facing financial troubles after Maximilian Brightwell disappeared," another replied.


    "The secret club has just released the academy nurse¡¯s measurements..."


    These fragments of conversation painted a picture of a kingdom in flux¡ªpolitical tensions, economic shifts, and mysterious happenings creating ripples throughout Avaloria. The arena had become not just a venue for competition, but a marketplace of information where rumors and truths mingled freely.


    In the front rows, Ambrose sat with his party members¡ªMarcus, Hualing, Adelaide, and Meihua. The seating arrangement was deliberate; all freshmen occupied these prime positions, as they would be the ones participating in the upcoming trials. The freshman class sat grouped in their five-person parties, their nervous energy palpable in the way they huddled together, reviewing strategies and whispering last-minute advice.


    Not everyone had settled into a group though. Throughout the freshman section, students called out desperately, seeking to complete their parties before the competition began.


    "We need one more combat-type!" a muscular boy shouted, his voice carrying across several rows. "Preferably someone with area damage skills!"


    "Is anyone a healer? Our group is almost full," pleaded a girl with vibrant purple hair, her eyes scanning the surrounding seats with increasing desperation.


    "Looking for a support talent! Anyone with buffs or defensive capabilities," called another. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tank needed! Must be able to absorb significant damage!"


    The frantic search continued, students weaving between seats with hurried negotiations taking place in whispered conversations. Some looked relieved as they found their final members, while others appeared increasingly anxious as options dwindled.


    Ambrose observed this social scramble with analytical detachment, his mind already moving beyond the immediate chaos. His eyes methodically counted the freshmen present, confirming exactly two hundred students in attendance. Two hundred students divided into groups of five means forty parties total, he calculated.


    A new problem presented itself to his ever-active mind: how would the academy structure the competition? If forty groups simply fought until one remained victorious, the format would inherently disadvantage some participants who would face more battles than others. The tournament structure would need mathematical elegance to ensure fairness.


    Ambrose¡¯s mind worked through the problem like a master strategist playing chess several moves ahead. They¡¯ll likely give eight parties who performed exceptionally well in previous tests a bye, he reasoned. That leaves thirty-two parties, which is a power of two¡ªperfect for a balanced bracket.


    He mentally mapped out the entire tournament: First round with thirty-two parties in sixteen battles, leaving sixteen winners. These sixteen would then join the eight who received byes, creating twenty-four total parties for the second round. Twelve battles would eliminate half, leaving twelve parties. The third round would feature six battles, removing another six parties. The fourth round would see three battles, with three winners advancing.


    Since three isn¡¯t even, they¡¯ll give the highest-performing party a bye to the finals, Ambrose concluded. The remaining two will compete in the semifinals, with the winner facing the party who received the bye for the championship.


    A satisfied smile touched Ambrose¡¯s lips as he completed his analysis, just as the last of the freshmen settled into their newly formed parties. Exactly forty groups had materialized, confirming his initial count.


    The murmuring crowd fell silent as a distinguished figure stepped onto the central platform, his regal bearing and confident stride commanding immediate respect as he approached the podium. His voice, enhanced by subtle magic, carried effortlessly throughout the vast arena. He introduced himself to the freshmen as Professor Richard Lancaster, he taught Military History, and would also be the one overseeing the test


    Ambrose¡¯s attention sharpened at the professor¡¯s introduction. Lancaster¡ªmother¡¯s maiden name, he noted with interest. Despite the shared surname with Victoria, Ambrose couldn¡¯t recall meeting this man before. Then again, his childhood illness had kept him isolated from most family gatherings and social events. Most likely a distant relative, he concluded, filing the information away for future investigation.


    The professor¡¯s commanding presence drew every eye in the arena as he prepared to explain the competition that would determine the freshman class rankings¡ªand perhaps, the trajectory of their academic futures.


    ¡­


    The elderly professor stepped onto the central platform of the academy¡¯s grand arena. His silver hair and beard framed a stern face lined with decades of magical study. His emerald robes billow slightly as he raises his wand to his throat, casting a simple amplification spell. The excited murmurs of the gathered freshmen fade to silence as his commanding voice fills the space.


    "Welcome, first-year students of Crono Magic Academy. I am Professor Richard Lancaster, I teach Military History and I¡¯ll be your overseer for today¡¯s Freshman Combat Assessment.


    As you were informed earlier, all two hundred of you will participate in this tournament in groups of fives to demonstrate your magical aptitude as well as how well you work in a party. This is not merely a test of raw power¡ªthough that certainly helps¡ªbut of creativity, adaptability, and tactical thinking.


    The tournament structure has been magically inscribed into the academy¡¯s magic stone tablets. Thirty-two of you will face immediate trials, while eight, selected by the Sorting Crystal¡¯s assessment of your entrance examinations, will receive byes to the second round. And the rest of the fights will continue like that until the semi-finals.


    Before I get into the rules, you should note that this is not an entrance exam, you have already passed the entrance exam and have already been admitted to the academy, some of you should have already received your student IDs. This is merely a test to determine your ranking, but you should still give it your all as your ranking determines which class you¡¯ll be placed in. Higher ranked classes receive higher resources which will be essential for those of you who have yet to awaken as well as other benefits for those who have already awakened.


    Now, to the rules:


    First and foremost, lethal magic is strictly forbidden. Any student casting with murderous intent will be immediately disqualified and face disciplinary action. The protective wards around each dueling platform will absorb most harmful energies, but they are not infallible.


    Second, each duel has a time limit of precisely ten minutes. If no clear victor emerges within this timeframe, our panel of professors will judge the winner based on skill, strategy, and magical execution.


    Third, victory conditions are simple: render your opponent incapable of continuing, force them to yield, or knock them from the platform. Once the platform¡¯s boundary crystals glow red, the match is decided.


    Fourth, no external magical artifacts are permitted except your wand and academy-issued robes. The enchanted seals on your wrists will detect any violations.


    Fifth, while elemental manifestations, transfigurations, and most standard spells are permitted, summoning of extradimensional entities is expressly prohibited. The last student who attempted such foolishness is still being treated in the academy¡¯s medical ward¡ªthree years later.


    The brackets have been arranged by professionals to ensure fairness. Your names will appear on the grand crystal display when your match is called. Those receiving byes, your names are already illuminated in blue.


    Remember, while winning is commendable, what we truly evaluate is your magical potential and growth. Many of our most accomplished graduates did not win their freshman tournaments but demonstrated exceptional qualities during their matches.


    The champion will receive the Archmage¡¯s Medallion, granting access to the Restricted Archives for the remainder of the academic year¡ªa privilege normally reserved for third-year students."


    Professor Lancaster pauses, his eyes scanning the nervous faces of the freshmen. A slight smile breaks through his stern demeanor.


    "Take a moment to center yourselves. Remember your training. Trust in your abilities, but know your limitations."


    He raises his wand high above his head, where it begins to emit a bright blue light.


    "By the ancient traditions of Crono Academy, I hereby declare..."


    The wand flashes brilliantly, sending a shower of blue sparks across the arena. The boundary crystals of all platforms ignite with blue flame.


    THE FRESHMAN COMBAT TOURNAMENT HAS BEGUN! First combatants, to your platforms!


    Thunder rolls artificially through the arena as the first names appear on the crystal display.

 Chapter 85: Capable Party Leader

    The arena erupted with activity as multiple magical platforms rose from the ground, each surrounded by shimmering barriers. Professor Richard Lancaster¡¯s magically amplified voice boomed across the stadium:


    "Ladies and gentlemen, the first round of our freshman ranking tournament begins! With eight seeded teams receiving byes, we have sixteen matches occurring simultaneously across the combat platforms. Remember, victory can be achieved through incapacitation, ring-out, or surrender!"


    On Platform One, Helena Brightflame¡¯s team faced off against a group led by Magnus Stonefist. "Watch as fire meets earth!" Lancaster called out. "Brightflame opens aggressively with her [Flame Control], but Stonefist¡¯s [Earth Shaper] creates defensive walls for his entire team. A tactical battle of attrition unfolds!"


    Platform Two erupted in flashes of light as Kuro Nightwind¡¯s precision strikes clashed against Viktor Ironbound¡¯s defensive formations. "Remarkable display of speed versus durability! Ironbound¡¯s [Steel Body] deflects most attacks, but his team struggles to counter Nightwind¡¯s mobility!"


    "Over on Platform Three," Lancaster¡¯s voice carried a note of excitement, "Edmund Stormhaven shows why the Great Houses command respect! His [Storm Call] creates a localized tempest, but his opponents¡¯ support mage has erected a surprising lightning barrier!"


    Platform Four hosted a particularly intense matchup as Cecilia Starweaver¡¯s team executed perfectly coordinated light-based attacks. "Brilliant teamwork from the Starweaver formation! Their opponents are struggling to maintain cohesion under the constant barrage of [Light Burst] combinations!"


    "But don¡¯t look away from Platform Five!" Lancaster warned as a massive ice wall materialized. "A team of promising Beast Tribe students showing exceptional coordination against their human counterparts. Watch how they use their natural abilities to complement their talents!"


    On Platform Six, two merchant-backed teams clashed in a display of expensive equipment and well-practiced formations. "Money isn¡¯t everything in magical combat, but proper preparation certainly helps! Both sides are showcasing advanced tactical training!"


    "Platform Seven gives us a classic clash of styles!" Lancaster announced as a sword-wielding team faced off against pure magic users. "Physical combat versus magic - a reminder that talent diversity remains crucial in team composition!"


    Platform Eight¡¯s battle drew gasps from the crowd as a team employed unusual shadow-based techniques against standard combat magic. "Unorthodox but effective! Sometimes the best strategy is to surprise your opponent!"


    As the battles progressed, Lancaster provided running commentary on key moments: "Brightflame¡¯s team advances with a decisive ring-out! Ironbound holds firm against Nightwind¡¯s assault! Stormhaven demonstrates his family¡¯s power with a clean sweep! Starweaver¡¯s precision secures victory!"


    The first round continued with rapid eliminations and surprising upsets. Some matches ended quickly through overwhelming force or superior strategy, while others stretched toward the ten-minute time limit as evenly matched teams traded blows.


    "Remember folks," Lancaster¡¯s voice carried across the cheering crowd, "these freshmen are showing remarkable skill for their experience level. The eight seeded teams waiting in the wings - including our own Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s group and Lysander Blackvale¡¯s formation - will face these battle-tested victors in the next round!" S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The professor¡¯s commentary continued as more platforms flashed with victory signals, the tournament¡¯s opening phase drawing to its conclusion. Each win brought the surviving teams one step closer to the coveted Archmage¡¯s Medallion, while the defeats served as valuable learning experiences for those eliminated.


    ¡­


    The crystalline display board illuminated with their names, its azure glow reflecting off the polished arena floor. Ambrose and his team rose from their seats, their movement drawing countless eyes from the surrounding spectators. As one of the eight parties granted immediate advancement to the second round, they hadn¡¯t participated in the initial battles, but now their moment had arrived.


    Ambrose cast an analytical glance at his teammates. After meticulously scanning through all the tournament participants earlier, he had already identified potential threats. However, watching Marcus adjust his sword and Hualing¡¯s predatory grace as she moved, he couldn¡¯t help but feel confident. Our combat power is actually quite overwhelming, he mused.


    His gaze shifted to Meihua and Adelaide. While Meihua clearly possessed considerable skill, and could be hiding something, he and Adelaide were decidedly non-combat oriented. A slight sigh escaped his lips. Even in team battles, overall victory is what matters. As long as we achieve an overwhelming win, it won¡¯t matter if some members take a more strategic role.


    The composition of their party suddenly struck him as rather peculiar - two dedicated combatants and three intelligence-focused members, with no traditional support roles. Yet Ambrose knew this apparent weakness was deceptive. While he couldn¡¯t provide conventional magical buffs, his tactical coordination and battlefield insight more than made up for it. Plus, his access to healing medicines meant they weren¡¯t nearly as vulnerable as others might assume.


    As they approached the arena platform, a crucial thought hit him. He turned sharply toward Hualing, concern evident in his voice. "Remember to hold back, okay?"


    She nodded in response, but her simple acknowledgment did little to ease his worry. Does she really understand what I mean by holding back? He made a mental note to keep a close eye on her during the match.


    The announcer¡¯s voice boomed through the arena: "In Arena One: Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s party versus Fenris Shadowclaw¡¯s team!"


    Their opponents already occupied their side of the platform - a full party of beastmen studying them with predatory intensity. Ambrose felt a twinge of sympathy; despite being another seeded team that had received a bye, they were about to face elimination in their first match.


    Through his earlier reconnaissance, Ambrose had compiled detailed information on each opponent:


    - Fenris Shadowclaw (Leader): D-rank wolf beastman, Top Level Beast Heart talent


    - Lyra Whitefang: Archer specialist


    - Thorne Blackpelt: Close-combat warrior


    - Serra Swiftclaw: Team healer


    - Grim Ironhide: Tank role


    Most participants are D-rank, Ambrose noted mentally. Only four competitors in the entire tournament exceed that, including Marcus and Hualing.


    Using his telepathic abilities, Ambrose transmitted the comprehensive dossier - including known weaknesses - directly to his teammates¡¯ minds. Their initial shock at the sudden influx of information quickly transformed into knowing smiles.


    Marcus couldn¡¯t help but grin. Having such a capable party leader is incredible, he thought. He¡¯s gathered intelligence even I wasn¡¯t aware of, despite my previous life¡¯s experiences.


    Meihua¡¯s eyes sparkled with appreciation. His methods are truly impressive, she reflected. The depth of his intelligence gathering rivals the novel¡¯s wiki. Has his observation talent already evolved?


    The referee¡¯s signal echoed through the arena, announcing the commencement of the second round. Instantly, the beastman party launched into action, their coordinated charge carrying them across the platform with frightening speed toward Ambrose¡¯s group.

 Chapter 86: I Just Have To Kill Them All

    As Fenris¡¯s team charged forward with predatory grace, Ambrose¡¯s party attempted to form what could generously be called a "formation." Adelaide and Meihua positioned themselves at the rear, while Ambrose calmly lowered himself to the ground, assuming a lotus meditation position as if he were in a peaceful garden rather than a combat arena. Hualing remained stubbornly glued to his side like an overprotective shadow, her eyes constantly scanning for threats. Only Marcus took a proper defensive stance at the front, his sword at the ready.


    Ambrose couldn¡¯t help but palm his face at their disorganized appearance. "Why don¡¯t you join Marcus at the front? I¡¯ll be perfectly safe here," he suggested to Hualing, trying to inject some semblance of tactical sense into their positioning.


    Hualing¡¯s immediate protest was met with Ambrose¡¯s resigned sigh, just as Marcus engaged Fenris in what promised to be an impressive display of swordsmanship.


    From her position behind her teammates, Lyra, the beastman team¡¯s archer, saw what she believed to be a golden opportunity. The Rothschild heir¡¯s party is completely disorganized, and their leader is practically defenseless, arguing with his only guard, she thought with growing excitement. Take out the leader, secure an easy victory. I expected more from the famous Rothschild heir, but this is like taking candy from a baby.


    Drawing her bow with practiced precision, she loosed an arrow directly at Ambrose. What she didn¡¯t know was that Ambrose¡¯s [Spatial Awareness] skill had already been activated, Ambrose was aware of every movement taking place on the platform, including her attack before the arrow had even left her bow. Though he could easily avoid it using [Blink], his teleportation ability, he hesitated. Since most people assumed his spatial movements came from a magical item, using it now would violate the tournament¡¯s prohibition on external treasures. Unless he was ready to reveal his Space-time talent, teleportation wasn¡¯t an option.


    Instead, Ambrose used [Thought Transmission] to alert Hualing of the incoming projectile. With frightening speed, she snatched the arrow from the air, turning to fix Lyra with a predatory glare that sent instinctive shivers down the archer¡¯s spine.


    How was that even possible? Lyra wondered, her confidence shaken. As a beastman, she was intimately familiar with the presence of predators, but something about Hualing¡¯s gaze triggered primal warning signals in her mind. This wasn¡¯t the aura of a normal human.


    Without warning, Hualing launched the arrow back toward its sender with devastating force. The projectile moved so quickly that Lyra only registered its presence when it was nearly upon her. Death seemed certain until a massive form materialized before her ¨C Grim Ironhide, their tank, now fully transformed into his imposing werewolf form. He deflected the arrow with his armored paws before fixing Hualing with a threatening growl.


    Ambrose observed the exchange with calculating eyes before turning to Hualing with a slight smile. "You know, there¡¯s actually another way to ensure my safety," he mused thoughtfully.


    Hualing looked at him, confusion evident in her expression.


    "All you have to do is eliminate everyone before they can get close," he explained with deceptive casualness. "Simple, right?"


    A menacing smile spread across Hualing¡¯s face, her eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. "Yeah, simple, why didn¡¯t I think of that" she agreed softly before her voice rose to a battle cry. "I just have to kill them all!"


    She launched herself toward the beastmen with frightening speed, leaving Ambrose behind with a look of dawning horror as he realized his poor choice of words.


    "Huh? Kill?" Ambrose¡¯s eyes widened in alarm. "That¡¯s not what I..." But his protests fell on deaf ears as Hualing charged into battle with murderous intent.


    ¡­


    Steel met claw as Marcus¡¯s blade was deflected by Fenris¡¯s powerful swipe. The beastman capitalized on the parry, pushing the sword aside while closing the distance between them with frightening speed. His other claw whistled through the air, targeting Marcus¡¯s exposed neck with lethal precision. Marcus responded with fluid grace, bending backwards just enough for the attack to pass harmlessly overhead.


    But Fenris wasn¡¯t finished. In a display of combat experience, he smoothly transitioned into a low sweep, his powerful leg cutting through the air at ankle height. "Eh!" Marcus¡¯s surprised exclamation escaped as he found himself suddenly airborne, his balance completely disrupted.


    His arms flailed momentarily before muscle memory and training took over. Gripping his sword with both hands, he managed to position it behind him as he fell, using it to break his imminent collision with the ground. Just as relief began to wash over him, Marcus¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of a massive claw hurtling toward his face. With desperate agility, he threw himself sideways, rolling across the platform¡¯s surface before coming to a stop.


    Rising to one knee, Marcus found himself staring at his sword ¨C now lying at Fenris¡¯s feet. A nervous smile crossed his face as an all-too-familiar thought occurred to him: Why do I feel like I keep losing my sword? While he knew he could probably win even without his weapon ¨C he was a rank above the beastman, after all ¨C fighting bare-handed against natural weapons would be unnecessarily troublesome.


    To his surprise, Fenris reached down and grabbed the sword. Marcus watched intently, wondering about the beastman¡¯s intentions. Did the beastman think that he could use the sword? If he tries to use it without proper training, it might actually work against him, Marcus theorized. But contrary to his expectations, Fenris simply tossed the weapon back to him.


    Marcus caught it easily, a genuine smile replacing his earlier nervous one as understanding dawned. Beastmen were renowned for their warrior pride ¨C Fenris clearly considered it dishonorable to fight an unarmed opponent. "Thank you," Marcus offered sincerely.


    The beastman¡¯s only response was to launch himself forward with renewed aggression. Recognizing the shift in intensity, Marcus tightened his grip on his sword and committed himself to taking the fight seriously. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Fenris closed in, Marcus deflected the incoming claw strike with practiced precision. The beastman immediately spun into another leg sweep, but this time Marcus was ready, easily avoiding it with a perfectly timed jump. However, Fenris¡¯s answering smile revealed Marcus¡¯s tactical error too late ¨C he was now airborne and unable to dodge.


    Though caught in a vulnerable position, Marcus managed to adjust his sword¡¯s angle, bringing it up as a makeshift shield and reinforcing it with his off-hand. Fenris¡¯s strike landed squarely against the blade, and while the sword held firm, the sheer force sent Marcus skidding backward.


    Landing with perfect balance, Marcus watched the beastman¡¯s rapid approach with growing confidence. As Fenris struck again, Marcus executed his counter ¨C catching the beastman¡¯s claw with his bare hand. His [Bladeless Cut] skill activated, coating his grip with protective energy to prevent the sharp claws from finding purchase.


    When Fenris attempted to attack with his free hand, Marcus¡¯s smile widened. In a perfect reversal of their earlier exchange, he swept the beastman¡¯s legs out from under him. With one arm restrained, Fenris couldn¡¯t stabilize himself and crashed to the ground with a resounding thud.


    Marcus smoothly brought his sword down, embedding its tip in the platform mere inches from the beastman¡¯s head. Looking down at his defeated opponent, he spoke with genuine appreciation, "Thanks for letting me win."

 Chapter 87: What To Do

    As Marcus helped Fenris to his feet, a gesture of respect between warriors, they both turned to witness a scene that froze their blood. Hualing was charging across the platform with terrifying purpose, her movements a blur of deadly precision.


    Thorne Blackpelt, the beastman team¡¯s second close-combat specialist, spotted her approach and moved to intercept, positioning himself protectively before his remaining teammates.


    "I won¡¯t let¡ª" His declaration of defiance died in his throat, replaced by a violent spray of crimson as Hualing¡¯s fist connected squarely with his abdomen.


    The impact came with such devastating force that Thorne¡¯s expression contorted in agony, his internal organs shifting unnaturally beneath the blow. It felt as though invisible fingers were rearranging his insides, twisting and crushing with methodical cruelty.


    Yet despite the excruciating pain, Thorne¡¯s warrior spirit refused to yield. Gritting his teeth, blood seeping between his clenched fangs, he seized Hualing¡¯s arm where it remained buried in his midsection. A pained smile stretched across his blood-flecked lips as he met her gaze, his massive hands tightening around her forearm in preparation for a counter-throw.


    His smile faltered as he attempted to move her arm and discovered a horrifying truth¡ªit wouldn¡¯t budge. Not even an inch.


    Confusion clouded his features as he glanced down at the limb he held. There was nothing extraordinary about it¡ªjust a human arm with well-defined muscles, significantly smaller than his own beastman limb that engulfed it. Yet despite his superior size and strength, he couldn¡¯t move it at all.


    When Thorne lifted his gaze to meet Hualing¡¯s once more, the dynamics had shifted dramatically. Her lips curled into a predatory smile that sent primordial fear coursing through him. Before he could process this reversal, her free hand shot forward with blinding speed, connecting with the back of his skull in a precise strike that instantly plunged him into darkness.


    The entire exchange happened so quickly that Marcus was still steadying Fenris when they both registered what had occurred. Their expressions mirrored each other¡¯s shock, but Hualing hadn¡¯t paused for even a moment.


    In three heartbeats, she materialized before the team¡¯s remaining members. Serra Swiftclaw, the diminutive healer, knelt beside Grim Ironhide, her small hands pressed against his arm where Lyra¡¯s deflected arrow had grazed him. Healing energy flowed from her fingertips, sealing the minor wound with practiced efficiency.


    Serra sensed a shadow fall across her and looked up, her eyes widening as they met Hualing¡¯s crimson gaze. There was no time to react, no chance to defend herself. Hualing¡¯s strike connected with devastating accuracy, launching the healer¡¯s slight form several meters through the air before she crumpled unconscious against the platform¡¯s edge. Healers weren¡¯t known for physical resilience¡ªnot that it would have made any difference against Hualing¡¯s overwhelming force.


    Grim Ironhide, fully transformed into his imposing werewolf form, stared at Hualing with dawning horror. Despite his monstrous appearance¡ªshaggy fur, protruding fangs, and muscle-bound frame¡ªa chilling realization struck him: in this confrontation, he wasn¡¯t the predator. The slender human girl standing before him, who had decimated half his team in mere seconds, radiated a bloodlust that made his bestial instincts shriek in warning.


    As the team¡¯s designated tank, his sole purpose was to protect his more vulnerable teammates. Yet he had failed completely, forced to watch helplessly as they fell one by one. Now, as Hualing¡¯s palm descended toward his skull with inexorable finality, he understood it was his turn. The last thing he registered was her palm connecting with his forehead before consciousness fled, his massive form collapsing like a felled tree.


    Hualing turned slowly toward Lyra Whitefang, the archer who had dared target Ambrose. Her smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp in that moment. Each deliberate step toward the archer vibrated with barely contained violence.


    Lyra maintained her composure despite her mounting terror. Years of training had honed her concentration to razor sharpness¡ªa necessity for any skilled archer. Drawing her bowstring back with steady hands, she loosed an arrow directly at Hualing¡¯s approaching form.


    What happened next defied comprehension. Thin crimson strands¡ªunmistakably blood¡ªmaterialized in the air before Hualing, intercepting the arrow. The projectile didn¡¯t simply break; it disintegrated, reduced to dust by the impossibly sharp blood-threads that danced through the air.


    Refusing to surrender, Lyra fired again and again, each shot more desperate than the last. With every attack, more blood-strings appeared around Hualing, slicing through the incoming projectiles with terrifying precision. The air filled with the fine particulate of destroyed arrows as Hualing advanced relentlessly.


    Hualing¡¯s eyes glowed with unnatural crimson light, her features beginning to shift subtly. Something primal and inhuman seemed to be emerging, straining against the confines of her human form. The transformation radiated such menace that even spectators far from the platform felt an instinctive chill.


    As Hualing closed the final distance, Lyra made the only rational choice left to her. Dropping her bow with a clatter, she raised her hands in surrender.


    "I give up!" she shouted, her voice cracking with fear.


    The announcer immediately declared victory for Ambrose¡¯s team, his magically amplified voice pronouncing: "Team Rothschild wins by surrender!"


    But something was wrong. Despite the match¡¯s conclusion, Hualing continued her advance, her blood-tinged gaze fixed on Lyra with predatory intent. The smile that twisted her features promised something far worse than mere defeat.


    ¡­


    Inside their shared consciousness, Minghua stared nervously at Hualing, who stood before her covered in a sinister dark miasma. The shadowy substance writhed around Hualing¡¯s form like a living entity, appearing to consume her bit by bit. Her eyes had transformed completely¡ªthe whites now pitch black, with pupils glowing an unnatural crimson.


    "She¡¯s dangerous," Hualing chanted, her voice distorted and hollow. "She wants to harm the master!"


    The darkness pulsed with each word, expanding its hold on her consciousness.


    "I must eliminate her," Hualing continued, her expression twisted with obsessive devotion. "I¡¯m the master¡¯s knight after all. I must eliminate all threats."


    Minghua observed with growing concern, her brow furrowed as she assessed the deteriorating situation. "It seems to be getting worse," she noted, more to herself than to her alter ego. "The talent awakening has made the situation even worse."


    Her gaze grew distant as she searched through fragments of memory, trying to piece together a solution. "But I don¡¯t remember it being this bad," she murmured. "Does it have something to do with the oath-type talent?" S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Minghua turned away momentarily, her eyes clouding with recollection. "Back then, ¡¯THAT¡¯ person helped me," she said softly, "but I don¡¯t know what methods they used."


    Turning back to face the darkness-shrouded Hualing, Minghua¡¯s expression reflected her helplessness. "What do I do now?" she wondered, watching as the miasma continued to spread throughout their shared mental landscape.


    In the physical world, Lyra Whitefang backed away from Hualing¡¯s advancing form, cold terror evident in her wide eyes. The announcer¡¯s magically amplified voice boomed across the arena: "The match is concluded! All participants must cease combat immediately!"


    The warning fell on deaf ears as Hualing continued her predatory advance, her movements unnaturally fluid, like a puppet guided by invisible strings. Lyra¡¯s fur stood on end as primal instincts screamed danger, cold sweat matting her fur as she realized something was terribly wrong with her opponent.


    From across the platform, Ambrose observed the situation with mounting alarm. Hualing¡¯s behavior had crossed beyond tactical aggression into something far more concerning. Her eyes, visible even at this distance, glowed with unnatural light, and the air around her seemed to distort slightly, as if reality itself recoiled from her presence.


    This is getting out of hand, he realized. Without hesitation, Ambrose activated his [Blink] ability, disappearing from his position and instantaneously materializing behind Hualing.


    In a move that surprised even himself, Ambrose threw his arms around Hualing¡¯s waist, pressing himself against her back. The sudden contact halted her advance as effectively as if she¡¯d struck a wall. Using [Thought Transmission], he projected a desperate message directly into Lyra¡¯s mind: ~Run! Now!


    The archer didn¡¯t need to be told twice. With a startled expression that suggested she¡¯d heard his silent command, she turned and fled from the platform, not daring to look back.


    The moment of contact seemed to jolt Hualing from her trance-like state. The unnatural glow faded from her eyes as awareness returned to her features. She registered the arms around her waist, the warmth pressed against her back, and a furious blush bloomed across her cheeks.


    "M-master?" she stammered, her voice returned to its normal timbre, albeit trembling with sudden embarrassment.


    Ambrose studied her closely, noting the transformation. The bloodlust had vanished completely, replaced by girlish fluster. Whatever darkness had gripped her seemed entirely absent now, suggesting this wasn¡¯t a deliberate action on her part. It didn¡¯t appear to be the work of her ancestor either, at least he didn¡¯t think it was. Does she have some other issues I¡¯m not aware of? he wondered.


    He suppressed a sigh as he realized the situation was far more complicated than he¡¯d initially anticipated when he first made contact with what he believed to be an important character, but he was in too deep now to back down. Rather than voice these concerns, he deliberately adjusted his voice to sound slightly winded, speaking softly against her back.


    "I¡¯m tired," he said gently. "Let¡¯s go back."


    Hualing¡¯s blush deepened to crimson as she felt his breath warm against her. She could only manage a silent nod in response, completely overwhelmed by the proximity.


    Within their shared mental realm, Minghua watched with fascination as the dark miasma surrounding Hualing¡¯s consciousness began to recede. The shadowy tendrils retreated gradually, slithering away like morning mist before sunlight until no trace remained of the earlier darkness.


    Minghua observed the transformation with a mixture of relief and wry amusement. "I guess that¡¯s one way to solve it," she remarked, making a mental note of this unexpectedly effective method for future reference.

 Chapter 88: Just Like A Cat

    Within the northern region of the Xia Empire, a territory notorious for its biting cold, General Winter made her way deep underground where the planet¡¯s scorching core defied the surface¡¯s frigid climate. The massive bathhouse she entered was carved directly into the bedrock, a sanctuary of warmth in her otherwise frozen domain.


    Few knew that the northern region hadn¡¯t always been a wasteland of ice and snow. Before General Winter claimed it as her territory, it had been largely unremarkable¡ªperhaps slightly cooler than other provinces, but still green and hospitable. The transformation to its current state of perpetual winter had come with her arrival and the manifestation of her power.


    Steam rose in lazy spirals from the natural hot spring¡¯s surface as General Winter disrobed methodically. Her pale skin slowly revealed itself as layers of military regalia fell away¡ªfirst the heavy fur-lined coat emblazoned with the imperial insignia, then the armored breastplate that had witnessed countless battles, followed by the rest of her garments until she stood completely nude beside the steaming pool.


    Without hesitation, she dove directly into the scalding water, barely flinching as the extreme heat enveloped her. The temperature would have blistered ordinary skin, but she merely closed her eyes, floating on her back as tension visibly melted from her normally rigid posture. A deep breath escaped her lips, the first sign of relaxation she had permitted herself in weeks.


    After several moments of silence, she reached toward a space beside the pool, her fingers seemingly grasping at empty air before a subtle ripple revealed the spatial ring she wore. From within this dimensional pocket, she withdrew a photograph¡ªa rarity in this world of magical communication.


    The image captured two figures: Ambrose Rothschild, the young heir to the most powerful noble house in Avaloria Kingdom, and beside him, Sun Hualing, his ever-present guardian. General Winter¡¯s typically emotionless face softened almost imperceptibly as she studied the photograph, particularly the image of Hualing.


    "Does this mean I owe that crazy woman another favor?" she murmured, her voice echoing softly against the stone walls. A resigned sigh followed as her thoughts drifted to her earlier conversation with General Spring regarding the¡­


    Before she could further contemplate this train of thought, she noticed something alarming¡ªher body had become unnaturally still, locked in position. Glancing down, she discovered the cause: the previously steaming hot spring had transformed into a massive block of crystalline ice, entrapping her within its frozen embrace.


    There was no panic in her expression, only mild annoyance as she exhaled audibly. With a series of powerful movements, she shattered her icy prison, the frozen chunks breaking away with loud cracks that reverberated throughout the underground chamber. Ice fragments scattered across the stone floor as she pulled herself free.


    "Thirty seconds this time," General Winter observed clinically, reaching for her discarded clothing with methodical precision. The unnatural freezing of her surroundings¡ªeven sources of extreme heat¡ªhad become a recurring phenomenon, one that appeared to be accelerating.


    She pulled on her undergarments first, then the heavier outer layers designed to protect against the cold she herself generated. "I¡¯m running out of time," she continued, her voice betraying no emotion despite the ominous declaration.


    As she slipped on her gloves¡ªthe final piece of her ensemble¡ªshe paused, her gaze returning briefly to the photograph still lying beside the now-frozen pool. "And so is Xiao Ling," she added softly.


    ¡­


    In the tiered seating section of Crono Academy¡¯s grand arena, Ambrose and his party had claimed a corner for themselves, yet they were far from inconspicuous. Despite the ongoing second-round matches that filled the massive colosseum with flashes of magic and clashing weapons, an unusual number of eyes kept drifting toward their group. The cause of this persistent attention was clear¡ªtheir match had concluded in a mere two minutes, a brutally efficient display that had left spectators stunned.


    More specifically, those furtive glances were directed at Sun Hualing, whose combat prowess had transcended expectation and ventured into the realm of the terrifying. The speed and ruthlessness with which she had dismantled their opponents lingered in the minds of all who witnessed it. Yet the feared combatant herself seemed entirely oblivious to the stir she had caused.


    Hualing lay stretched across the bench with her head resting comfortably in Ambrose¡¯s lap, her expression one of pure contentment as he gently ran his fingers through her fiery red hair, catching hints of silver where the light revealed its subtle metallic tinge. The transformation was striking¡ªfrom the predatory fighter who had nearly continued her assault beyond the match¡¯s conclusion to this picture of docility. Her eyes were half-closed in bliss, occasionally emitting soft sounds of satisfaction that weren¡¯t quite audible over the arena¡¯s ambient roar.


    Ambrose couldn¡¯t suppress a smile as he observed her. Just like a cat, he thought, the comparison unavoidable. Though he had never owned pets during his sickly childhood, books had taught him about their behaviors. He had often wondered why people would willingly keep creatures described as "mischievous" and "troublemakers" in their homes. The standard answer¡ª"it¡¯s in their nature, but they calm down when properly petted"¡ªhad seemed insufficient until this moment.1


    Now, experiencing firsthand the transformation that gentle attention could produce, Ambrose found himself appreciating the wisdom of pet owners throughout history. Hualing had indeed calmed completely under his ministrations, her earlier bloodlust entirely absent as she nuzzled against his hand whenever he slowed his rhythmic strokes through her hair.


    I should definitely continue this approach, he concluded, mentally filing away this effective tactic for future implementation¡ªat least until he discovered a more permanent solution to her concerning behavior. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His expression darkened slightly as a more immediate problem made itself known. The pressure on his thighs was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Despite Hualing¡¯s slender frame, his "Weak Body" physique was ill-equipped for supporting even her modest weight for extended periods. Already, after just a few minutes, pins and needles were spreading through his legs, the sensation approaching genuine pain. Yet he maintained his calm exterior, unwilling to disrupt the peaceful moment when considering the alternative.


    Across the bench, Marcus observed the pair with contemplative eyes. He couldn¡¯t deny Hualing¡¯s exceptional strength¡ªshe had dispatched opponents that would have given even him pause¡ªbut something about her continued to unsettle him. This Hualing was practically unrecognizable compared to the woman he had met in his previous life.


    Did I even encounter her during my academy days before? he wondered, searching his memories and finding no trace of her. The Hualing he had known¡ªthe one he¡¯d encountered some time after leaving the academy¡ªhad been serious, composed, and methodical in her violence. This version was impulsive, emotional, and seemed to fluctuate between extremes of behavior.


    More disturbing was the expression he had witnessed during the match¡¯s final moments¡ªa look of empty bloodlust that transcended mere combat fervor. That expression had transported him back to a pivotal moment from his previous life, when she had taken his talent through methods he still didn¡¯t fully comprehend. The similarity was undeniable, raising uncomfortable questions.


    Is she actually in control? The thought formed unbidden in his mind. Could she be possessed by something? He continued observing, filing away these observations for future consideration. If she really was possessed, it would explain why Hualing had suddenly turned on him, but was that really the case? And if it was, when did it happen?


    Liu Meihua, seated on Ambrose¡¯s other side, was engaged in her own careful study of Hualing. As someone with knowledge of the original story, she knew more about the situation than others. To her, Hualing was just a disaster waiting to happen.


    What have I gotten myself into? she thought, a flicker of concern crossing her features. Having already committed to Ambrose¡¯s group, she was inextricably tied to whatever fate awaited them. Her Calculation talent ran countless probability scenarios, none of them particularly reassuring when it came to Hualing¡¯s stability.


    All Meihua could do now was ensure her own strength developed sufficiently to weather the coming storm when¡ªnot if¡ªHualing¡¯s control finally slipped entirely. Whatever bond existed between Ambrose and his blood knight seemed effective for now, but Meihua recognized it as a temporary solution at best.


    A/N - Dont ask me, I¡¯m not a cat expert

 Chapter 89: The Nurse Elena

    Elena moved with practiced precision through the dimly lit underground chamber, her work for the evening complete. Behind her, the imperial spies from Xia¡ªAkira, Ruohan, and Min-jae¡ªhuddled together in their cage, their bodies marked with the evidence of her "punishment." Their suppressed groans and labored breathing echoed faintly against the stone walls, mingling with the ambient sounds of dripping water and distant, indistinct movements from other cages.


    She folded her multi-tailed whip with methodical care, each motion deliberate and unhurried as she secured the implement to her belt. Without a backward glance or a single word to her victims, Elena stepped out of the cage, the cage closing behind her with a subtle shimmer of energy. Her high-heeled boots clicked rhythmically against the stone floor as she moved through the underground prison¡¯s main corridor, her posture immaculate despite the grim surroundings.


    The pathway between the rows of cages formed a gauntlet of sorts. As Elena passed, various reactions tracked her progress. Some prisoners hurled themselves against their magical barriers with animalistic fury, chains rattling as they strained against their restraints. Their eyes, reflecting the dim magical light, burned with a mixture of hatred and madness. Others growled low in their throats. A few simply watched her with cold, calculating hatred¡ªthese were perhaps the most dangerous, their lucidity intact despite their captivity.


    Near the midpoint of her journey, a particularly aggressive prisoner¡ªa hulking figure whose species was no longer readily identifiable after whatever experiments had been performed on him¡ªhurled himself repeatedly against the walls of his cell. The metal cage rippled with each impact, the noise becoming increasingly disruptive. Without breaking her stride, Elena unfurled her whip in a single fluid motion, the leather extension whistling through the air as it snaked between the openings in the cage. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The tip of the whip¡ªweighted with a small metal barb¡ªconnected with the prisoner¡¯s flesh. Being struck by the furthest part of the implement, where momentum concentrated its force, the pain inflicted was disproportionate to the seemingly casual flick of Elena¡¯s wrist. The prisoner¡¯s howl of rage transformed into a shriek of agony as he retreated to the far corner of his enclosure, cradling the fresh wound.


    Elena continued without pause, not even acknowledging the interaction. Several other prisoners who had been working themselves into similar states of agitation quickly quieted as she passed, learning vicariously from their fellow captive¡¯s mistake.


    When she finally reached the solitary metal cabinet at the far wall, Elena began her transformation ritual with mechanical efficiency. Her fingers worked the complicated harnesses and buckles of her dominatrix attire, disrobing with neither haste nor hesitation. The persona she had adopted for the "interrogation" slipped away with each removed garment, like an actor shedding a costume after a performance.


    Standing in just her underwear, then completely nude, Elena moved to a small adjoining chamber¡ªa makeshift shower tucked into an alcove beside the cabinet. The space was barely large enough to accommodate a single person, with rusted fixtures that delivered lukewarm water at best. She methodically washed away the evidence of her activities, her expression remaining distant and detached throughout the process.


    After drying herself with a rough towel retrieved from the cabinet, Elena returned to complete her transformation. Retrieving her nurse¡¯s uniform, she dressed with the same clinical precision with which she had undressed. Each button and fold was perfectly aligned, creating the immaculate appearance expected of Crono Academy¡¯s medical professional.


    The final step in her metamorphosis was the most striking. Standing before the cabinet¡¯s polished metal door, which served as a makeshift mirror, Elena placed her hands against her face. Her fingers kneaded the flesh as if it were clay, manipulating something beneath the surface. After several moments of this strange ritual, her entire demeanor shifted¡ªthe cold, sadistic gleam in her eyes replaced by professional concern, her posture softening from predatory to nurturing.


    The transformation complete, Elena donned a surgical mask that concealed the lower portion of her face. This final touch sealed away any remaining trace of her underground persona, completing her return to the role of the academy¡¯s trusted nurse. With measured steps, she made her way toward the hidden exit, leaving behind the underground chamber and its suffering inhabitants until her inevitable return.


    ¡­


    The figure moved with practiced ease along the academy¡¯s perimeter, their stature modest at about five foot eight. Their features blended into a canvas of ambiguity¡ªneither distinctly masculine nor feminine¡ªfurther obscured by the meticulously crafted rat mask concealing their face. The mask¡¯s whiskers twitched slightly with each soft whistle that escaped their lips as they strolled with unhurried confidence.


    Pausing at the imposing fence surrounding Crono Magic Academy, the masked observer tilted their head upward, taking in the full grandeur of the barrier.


    "Whoah, so big," they remarked, their voice a perfect middle ground¡ªneither deep nor high, impossible to categorize by gender. The neutrality seemed almost deliberately cultivated, another layer of anonymity beyond the physical disguise.


    Continuing their leisurely examination, the figure produced a roll of parchment from within their nondescript clothing. With methodical precision, they began sketching various landmarks and structural details of the academy grounds, occasionally pausing to confirm measurements or angles before committing them to paper.


    "Hahaha, this is so easy," the rat-masked figure chuckled to themselves, the sound echoing slightly behind their facial covering. "Sir Dragon was afraid of nothing." They continued mapping the facility¡¯s layout with practiced efficiency, clearly fulfilling some predetermined mission with remarkable ease.


    The sudden shift in atmosphere came without warning. The air around them grew oppressively hot, molecules seeming to vibrate with dangerous intensity. The figure paused, confusion evident in their suddenly rigid posture as they sensed the abrupt temperature change.


    Slowly, almost reluctantly, they lifted their gaze skyward¡ªonly to freeze at the terrifying sight above. A massive sphere of roiling flames descended toward them, growing larger with each passing heartbeat, its heat so intense that nearby vegetation began to wither.


    "Is the sun falling?" they wondered aloud, momentary confusion giving way to horrified realization. "Oh no, I¡¯m cooked¡ªliterally!" These final words barely escaped before the inferno crashed into their position with catastrophic force, the impact sending debris and scorched earth flying in all directions.


    When the dust settled, Cassandra Blackvale landed gracefully at the center of the newly formed crater. Her piercing eyes scanned the devastation methodically, searching for remains but finding nothing conclusive amid the chaos.


    "Tsk! They escaped," she muttered with evident frustration before launching herself skyward, soaring away in pursuit of her quarry.


    Miles distant in a secluded forest clearing, the rat-masked figure materialized against a sturdy oak, their breathing labored from the narrow escape. Various patches of their clothing smoldered, edges charred and smoking, though remarkably their body appeared unharmed beneath.


    "Dammit! That was my last pair," they complained, seemingly more concerned with their ruined attire than their brush with death. Turning toward the direction of the academy, their posture stiffened with newfound respect.


    "Was that Cassandra Blackvale?" they wondered aloud, recognition evident in their cautious tone. "As expected of someone from the mad generation, she¡¯s quite strong."


    They sighed, shoulders slumping slightly as they contemplated their circumstances. "Now that I¡¯ve alerted her, it¡¯ll be quite hard to complete the mission." The moment of concern passed quickly, replaced by an almost cheerful resignation. "Oh well, I can just use this as an excuse to slack off for a bit."


    The sudden resurgence of blistering heat cut their relaxation brutally short. Their head snapped upward, dread evident in their posture.


    "Don¡¯t tell me..." they whispered, voice trailing off as they confirmed their worst fears.


    Cassandra Blackvale hovered above the clearing, her normally flowing red hair now standing upright, engulfed in dancing flames. Her entire form radiated power¡ªwreathed in fire that seemed to burn from within rather than upon her. The temperature around her distorted the very air, creating waves of heat that made reality itself appear to waver.


    "Is the academy a joke to you?" she demanded, her voice carrying the weight of lethal intent.


    The rat-masked figure looked up, their earlier confidence evaporating like morning dew in a furnace. They swallowed audibly before offering a weak response.


    "Umm...can we talk about this?"


    ¡­


    A/N - I forgot to upload before reset, sorry guys. (here is a teaser lol)


    [Name: Elena Masque]


    [Level: ???]


    [Talent: Actress (???)]


    [Health: ???]


    [Mana: ???]


    [Strength: ???]


    [Stamina: ???]


    [Agility: ???]


    A/N - can someone guess the stats?

 Chapter 90: Information

    The arena erupted with activity as multiple magical platforms rose from the ground, each surrounded by shimmering barriers. Professor Richard Lancaster¡¯s magically amplified voice boomed across the stadium:


    "Ladies and gentlemen, the second round of our freshman ranking tournament begins! Our eight seeded teams have now entered the fray, and what a spectacle we¡¯re witnessing already!"


    Lancaster¡¯s excitement was palpable as he gestured broadly toward Platform One, where the dust was already settling. "In what must be a tournament record, Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s team has secured victory in under two minutes! Sun Hualing¡¯s combat prowess has left spectators speechless and the Shadowclaw team completely overwhelmed!"


    Indeed, on Platform One, Fenris and his teammates were still being helped to their feet by medical staff while Ambrose¡¯s team regrouped at the edge of the arena. The speed and brutality of their victory had cast a momentary hush over the normally boisterous crowd.


    "But don¡¯t let that quick match distract you from the brilliant display occurring on Platform Two!" Lancaster redirected attention to where Lysander Blackvale stood with perfect posture, his team systematically dismantling Viktor Ironbound¡¯s defensive formation.


    "Observe how Blackvale manipulates arcane energies with extraordinary precision!" Lancaster¡¯s commentary drew appreciative gasps from the audience as Lysander¡¯s spellwork created a complex geometric pattern that bypassed Viktor¡¯s steel defenses entirely.


    "Ironbound¡¯s impressive physical durability proves insufficient against Blackvale¡¯s tactical approach," Lancaster explained as Viktor staggered backward, his team struggling to maintain formation. "A powerful reminder that even the strongest shield has its vulnerabilities!"


    On Platform Three, Aurora Silverwind¡¯s team faced Edmund Stormhaven¡¯s weather manipulators in what Lancaster dubbed "the battle of elemental mastery."


    "Extraordinary!" Lancaster exclaimed as Aurora¡¯s Spirit Resonance created ethereal barriers that dissipated Stormhaven¡¯s lightning strikes. "Miss Silverwind is demonstrating why House Silverwind remains among the Great Houses! Her spiritual energy neutralizes Stormhaven¡¯s weather manipulation at every turn!"


    The crowd roared as Aurora¡¯s teammate, Diana Vale, synchronized her Spirit Enhancement with Aurora¡¯s abilities, creating a cascading effect that amplified their defensive capabilities. Edmund¡¯s expression betrayed his growing frustration as each calculated assault met an impenetrable spiritual barrier.


    "Witness the synergy between Silverwind and Vale!" Lancaster¡¯s voice carried a note of genuine admiration. "Textbook coordination that transforms individual talents into something greater than their sum!"


    Platform Four hosted Leon Steelheart¡¯s swordsmen against Helena Brightflame¡¯s fire manipulators in what quickly became the most visually spectacular confrontation of the round.


    "Steel versus flame!" Lancaster narrated enthusiastically. "Steelheart¡¯s bladework defies belief¡ªmoving with such precision that he¡¯s literally cutting through Brightflame¡¯s fire projections!"


    The audience watched in awe as Leon, despite possessing no magical talent whatsoever, executed sword techniques with such perfection that he created vacuum slices through Helena¡¯s carefully constructed flame walls. His teammates followed his example, adapting physical combat principles to counter magical assaults.


    "Remember, students," Lancaster¡¯s voice carried an educational tone, "talent isn¡¯t everything! Steelheart demonstrates that technique, discipline, and understanding of fundamental principles can overcome raw magical power!"


    Across Platform Five, Claire Wintermist¡¯s ice specialists battled Cecilia Starweaver¡¯s light manipulators in a dazzling display that transformed the entire arena into a kaleidoscope of refracted light and crystalline structures.


    "A symphony of light and ice!" Lancaster exclaimed. "Wintermist¡¯s tactical approach focuses on controlling the battlefield¡¯s geometry while Starweaver attempts to overwhelm through pure luminous intensity!"


    Claire¡¯s strategically placed ice formations captured and redirected Cecilia¡¯s light bursts, creating unpredictable patterns of refraction that confused the opposing team. Meanwhile, Jin Tao¡¯s lightning-quick team on Platform Six easily outpaced their opposition through sheer speed.


    "Jin Tao¡¯s Thunder Step allows his entire team to maintain pressure from multiple angles simultaneously!" Lancaster explained as Jin¡¯s team executed a perfectly coordinated five-point attack pattern. "Their opponents simply cannot track their movements!" S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Raven Bloodworth¡¯s team on Platform Seven demonstrated why blood manipulation remained one of the most feared combat arts, despite its controversial reputation.


    "Bloodworth shows remarkable restraint and precision," Lancaster noted with approval. "Using his Blood Pulse to enhance his team¡¯s capabilities rather than directly attacking his opponents¡ªa mature approach that speaks to his tactical acumen!"


    As the second round neared its conclusion, Lancaster summarized the emerging tournament narrative: "Seven of our eight seeded teams advance, proving the academy¡¯s assessment of their capabilities was well-founded! The question remains¡ªwho among these exceptional teams will claim the Archmage¡¯s Medallion?"


    The crowd roared its approval as magical indicators flashed across the arena, confirming the round¡¯s official results and setting the stage for the third round.


    ¡­


    Underground Prison,


    When the footsteps of their captor finally faded into the distance, silence settled over the underground chamber like a heavy blanket. For several long moments, none of the three Xian spies moved, each waiting to confirm Elena¡¯s departure was genuine rather than a cruel test.


    Akira was the first to stir, wincing as he pulled himself into a seated position. His normally stoic expression cracked as pain lanced through his body. "Is she gone?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from suppressed screams.


    Ruohan nodded, her keen ears straining for any lingering presence. "For now," she confirmed, her normally polished accent roughened by exhaustion. "Also, why are you asking me, you are the observer remember" she retorted.


    "Our talents don¡¯t work here, remember" Akira spoke as he raised his hands to show the cuffs that were connected to chains. These cuffs were a special kind that prevented them from accessing their abilities.


    She crawled toward him with deliberate movements, her imperial training allowing her to manage her own pain with practiced detachment.


    Min-jae remained motionless the longest, his breathing carefully measured until he finally allowed himself to slump against the cage wall. "That woman," he muttered, "is not what she appears to be."


    Ruohan began examining Akira¡¯s wounds with clinical precision, tearing strips from her already tattered undergarments to serve as makeshift bandages. As she cleaned a particularly deep laceration across his shoulder, she paused, her brow furrowing in concentration.


    "What is it?" Akira asked, noticing her sudden stillness.


    "Look at this," she replied, tilting his shoulder toward the dim magical light that illuminated their prison. "These cuts... they¡¯re too precise."


    Min-jae crawled closer, curiosity overcoming his body¡¯s protests. His eyes widened as he examined the pattern of wounds. "These aren¡¯t random," he agreed, voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. "The depth, the angle, the placement¡ªit¡¯s deliberate."


    Ruohan traced her finger along the edge of one wound, careful not to cause additional pain. "It¡¯s script," she realized, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Old imperial cipher, third-level encryption."


    The three spies exchanged meaningful glances, their shared training in imperial intelligence allowing them to recognize what others would dismiss as torture¡¯s random cruelty. Without another word, they began systematically examining each other¡¯s injuries, positioning themselves beneath the light to better view the subtle patterns carved into their flesh.


    "Mine appears to be the first segment," Min-jae noted, arranging himself so Akira could read the pattern across his back. "Followed by Ruohan¡¯s left arm and torso, then your sequence, Akira."


    For nearly an hour, they worked together, deciphering the message written in their very skin. The cipher was complex, requiring multiple reference points and position-dependent substitutions¡ªa method taught only to imperial intelligence operatives of the highest clearance.


    "So our torturer is one of ours?" Akira suggested, disbelief evident in his voice.


    Min-jae shook his head slowly. "Not necessarily. The method could have been extracted from a captured operative."


    Ruohan completed transcribing the final segment from Akira¡¯s injuries, her face growing pale as she assembled the complete message. "Listen to this," she whispered, translating the cipher into Xian language. "..."


    A heavy silence fell over the cage as the implications settled upon them.


    "Who is she?" Akira finally asked, glancing toward the tunnel where Elena had disappeared. "To deliver intelligence in such a... unique manner."

 Chapter 91: Lysander Blackvale & Leon Steelheart

    The great crystalline display board glowed with an ethereal blue light, projecting the names of the next combatants across the arena. Lysander Blackvale¡¯s eyes narrowed imperceptibly as he spotted his team¡¯s designation. He straightened the already immaculate collar of his academy uniform, adjusting his posture to project the dignified bearing expected of House Blackvale¡¯s second son.


    "Lysander Blackvale¡¯s team versus Claire Wintermist¡¯s team on Platform Two!" Professor Lancaster¡¯s amplified voice boomed across the arena.


    Lysander turned to his teammates with a measured nod. "Follow the formation as practiced. Remember your positions." His tone brooked no argument, each word precise and deliberate. Edwin and Thomas exchanged quick glances but said nothing, while Sarah and Maria simply nodded their assent.


    As they approached the platform, Lysander assessed his opponents with calculating eyes. The Wintermist team specialized in ice-based abilities¡ªformidable in their battlefield control and potentially troublesome if allowed to establish dominance. Claire herself, a poised young woman with frost-blue eyes, met his gaze without flinching, her bearing suggesting minor nobility.


    Commendable confidence, Lysander thought, but ultimately misplaced.


    He stepped onto the platform with unhurried confidence, his bearing that of someone who had never questioned his place in the world¡¯s hierarchy. The protective barriers hummed to life around them, sealing the combatants within.


    "Begin!" Lancaster declared.


    Claire immediately launched into action, her teammates spreading into a diamond formation. Crystalline frost began spreading across the platform¡¯s surface, the temperature dropping precipitously as ice structures erupted from the ground.


    "Edwin, disruption pattern," Lysander commanded calmly.


    Edwin responded instantly, producing a series of rapid hand signs that sent waves of energy across the platform, disrupting the ice formation¡¯s growth patterns. The frost structures faltered momentarily, giving Thomas the opening to advance with his shield raised.


    What followed was a precisely orchestrated dance, each of Lysander¡¯s teammates executing their roles with practiced efficiency. Maria laid down covering fire from the rear, while Sarah maintained a constant stream of minor healing and enhancement spells.


    Yet despite their coordination, the Wintermist team proved unexpectedly resilient. Claire adapted quickly, restructuring her ice formations to counter Lysander¡¯s strategies. Ice walls redirected Maria¡¯s magic bolts, while Nathan Snow created a slick surface that hampered Thomas¡¯s advance. The battle stretched into minutes, neither side gaining clear advantage.


    Sweat beaded on Lysander¡¯s brow as he felt the strain of maintaining his arcane dominion. A shadow of irritation crossed his features as he realized the battle was taking longer than anticipated.


    This should have been a simple matter, he thought, his jaw tightening as he reassessed his opponent. Her tactical acumen exceeds what her records suggested. How vexing.


    In his peripheral vision, Lysander noticed several spectators pointing toward their platform¡ªattention he neither wanted nor needed at this stage. Edwin had taken a glancing blow from an ice shard and was favoring his right side. Thomas¡¯s shield showed signs of frost damage, the enchantments struggling against the relentless cold.


    "Enough of this," Lysander murmured, more to himself than his team.


    With fluid grace, he stepped forward, drawing himself to his full height. The air around him began to shimmer with arcane energy as he reached deep within himself, accessing power he had kept carefully concealed until now.


    "I had hoped to avoid this," he announced, his voice carrying across the platform. "But you¡¯ve earned this much respect, at least."


    The mana density around Lysander abruptly doubled¡ªa clear indicator of someone operating at C-rank rather than D-rank. Gasps rippled through the crowd as spectators recognized the implications. Claire¡¯s eyes widened in shock, her concentration faltering momentarily as ice crystals forming at her fingertips shattered from the sudden pressure.


    It was all the opening Lysander needed. With precise gestures, he wove a complex arcane matrix, his [Arcane Dominion] talent allowing him to structure magical forces with unparalleled efficiency. The platform illuminated with geometric patterns of light that encircled the Wintermist team, the arcane energy rapidly neutralizing their ice constructs and compressing inward.


    "Surrender," Lysander stated simply. "Further resistance would be pointless and potentially injurious."


    Claire held his gaze for a long moment before lowering her hands, frost dissipating from her fingertips. "We concede the match."


    As the platform¡¯s barrier dissipated and Lancaster¡¯s voice announced their victory, Lysander felt a curious mixture of satisfaction and annoyance. He¡¯d been forced to reveal more of his capability than intended¡ªa tactical error he would need to account for in future confrontations.


    His gaze drifted across the arena to where Marcus sat with Ambrose¡¯s team. Something like regret flickered briefly across Lysander¡¯s features.


    He would have made a valuable addition, Lysander thought, measuring the swordsman¡¯s potential against his current allegiance. But Rothschild got to him first.


    With a resigned sigh, Lysander turned away. There was nothing he could do about it, all he could do was learn and adapt. Such was nature.


    ¡­


    A/N - This is happening simultaneously


    The crystalline board flashed with new names, drawing Leon Steelheart¡¯s attention from his sword maintenance. His calloused fingers paused on the blade¡¯s edge as he read the announcement: "Leon Steelheart¡¯s team versus Damien Nightshade¡¯s team on Platform Four!"


    Leon rose from his seated position, rolling his shoulders to loosen the perpetual tension there. Unlike the noble-born students around him, his academy uniform lacked expensive enchantments or family crests¡ªjust standard-issue cloth, meticulously maintained through regular mending.


    "Ready?" he asked his teammates, his voice carrying the distinct accent of Avaloria¡¯s eastern provinces¡ªrougher, less refined than the capital¡¯s speech.


    Kai nodded sharply, while Maya offered an encouraging smile. Ryan bounced on his toes, excess energy seeking release, and Laura checked her shield¡¯s straps one final time.


    They walked toward Platform Four as a unit, their solidarity evident in their matching strides. As they passed other contestants, Leon heard the whispers¡ªthey followed him everywhere in the academy.


    "That¡¯s the one with no potential."1


    "How did he even qualify?"


    "Must be charity admission."


    Leon¡¯s face betrayed nothing, but his grip on his sword¡¯s hilt tightened briefly before relaxing. He¡¯d heard worse in his seventeen years.


    The Nightshade team already occupied their side of the platform when Leon¡¯s group arrived. Damien Nightshade himself stood at the center of his formation, dark energy swirling around his fingertips. His team specialized in necrotic magic¡ªdangerous but slow to build momentum.


    "You know what they say," Damien called across the platform, his voice dripping with false camaraderie. "Talentless should stick to farming, not fighting." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Several spectators laughed, the sound echoing harshly through the arena.


    Leon simply squared his shoulders and stepped onto the platform. "Maybe after I win, you can take up farming instead," he replied, his voice level. "I hear turnips don¡¯t require much talent either."


    A flash of anger crossed Damien¡¯s face as the barriers activated around them.


    "Begin!" Lancaster¡¯s voice rang out.


    Damien¡¯s team immediately unleashed a barrage of darkness spells, flooding the platform with necrotic energy. Leon¡¯s team might have lacked magical power, but their discipline was impeccable. Each member moved according to formations they¡¯d practiced countless times in the academy¡¯s training grounds.


    Leon advanced steadily through the magical assault, his sword moving in precise arcs that seemed to cut through the very fabric of the spells themselves. What he lacked in talent, he compensated for with perfect technique and unwavering focus.


    "Kai, left flank! Maya, support Ready! Ryan, pressure the caster!" Leon called out, his battlefield awareness allowing him to coordinate their movements with exceptional precision.


    The battle flowed like a choreographed dance, each team member executing their role flawlessly. Ryan¡¯s speed created openings that Maya exploited with support magic, while Kai and Laura maintained defensive positions that prevented counterattacks.


    Leon watched his teammates with quiet pride. They¡¯d been together for a long time, each one of them developing their own unique skills despite their middling talents. Unlike many teams that relied on a single powerful member, their strength came from perfect coordination.1


    Damien¡¯s frustration grew visible as his spells failed to find purchase. "How is this possible?" he growled, dark energy coalescing around him in erratic pulses. "You¡¯re nothing! A talentless nobody!"


    "Maybe," Leon acknowledged, advancing steadily. "But I¡¯ve worked for every inch of ground I stand on."


    With a sudden surge of speed that belied his lack of enhancement talents, Leon closed the distance between them. His sword moved in a complex pattern that he¡¯d practiced tens of thousands of times¡ªa technique requiring no magical talent, only countless hours of dedicated repetition.


    The blade stopped precisely one inch from Damien¡¯s throat.


    "This nobody suggests you surrender," Leon stated quietly.


    Lancaster¡¯s voice boomed across the arena: "Victory to Leon Steelheart¡¯s team!"


    As his teammates gathered around him in celebration, Leon allowed himself a small smile. His gaze drifted toward the seating area where Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s team rested, having completed their match in record time.


    I¡¯m still not there yet, Leon thought, his resolve hardening like steel in a forge. For mother¡¯s medicine. For father¡¯s debts. For my siblings¡¯ future. I need to¡­


    A/N - No potential is not the same as no talent, it means you can¡¯t awaken a talent, like ever. (most people are actually like this)


    A/N - Just in case someone is wondering, NO! It¡¯s not that type of unique skill, just a literal statement (just thought i should clarify this)

 Chapter 92: The Third Round

    The crystalline display board pulsed with azure light as it revealed the third-round matchups, sending ripples of excitement through the packed arena. Professor Richard Lancaster adjusted his emerald robes before raising his enchanted staff to his throat, his voice booming across the colosseum.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, we¡¯ve reached the third round of our freshman ranking tournament! Only twelve teams remain in contention for the prestigious Archmage¡¯s Medallion, and the battles promise even greater spectacle than what we¡¯ve witnessed thus far!"


    The barriers around Platform One shimmered to life as Ambrose Rothschild¡¯s team faced Jin Tao¡¯s group. Spectators who had witnessed Ambrose¡¯s previous match leaned forward in anticipation, many placing informal wagers on how quickly this confrontation would end.


    "On Platform One, we have the much-discussed Team Rothschild against Jin Tao¡¯s lightning specialists!" Lancaster announced. "Jin¡¯s Thunder Step technique has overwhelmed every opponent thus far, but can it stand against what many are calling the tournament¡¯s most fearsome combatant?"


    The moment the match began, Jin Tao activated his signature technique, his form blurring with supernatural speed as electricity crackled around him. His teammates followed suit, their coordinated movements creating a pentagram formation of lightning that had devastated previous opponents.


    Sun Hualing stepped forward, her expression unnervingly calm. Jin¡¯s eyes widened as he recognized the danger too late¡ªhis lightning-enhanced charge carrying him directly toward her waiting form.


    "Extraordinary!" Lancaster gasped as Hualing intercepted Jin with terrifying precision. "The match has barely begun, and¡ªwait¡ªwhat¡¯s happening?"


    The entire lightning team had frozen in place, their expressions locked in stunning realization. Jin Tao, still suspended mid-stride, slowly lowered his crackling hands.


    "I surrender," he announced, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent arena.


    "Astonishing!" Lancaster exclaimed, genuine surprise evident in his voice. "Team Jin has conceded without a single exchange of blows! The reputation of Sun Hualing appears to have preceded her¡ªa psychological victory before combat even commenced!"


    Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Ambrose¡¯s team secured their third-round victory in literally seconds, setting a new tournament record.


    "Meanwhile, on Platform Two," Lancaster redirected attention, "Lysander Blackvale¡¯s team faces Claire Wintermist¡¯s ice specialists!"


    This battle had progressed significantly, the platform transformed into a winter landscape as Claire¡¯s team established territorial dominance. Ice structures created a maze-like battlefield, forcing Lysander¡¯s team to navigate treacherous terrain while defending against crystalline projectiles.


    "Remarkable battlefield control from Wintermist!" Lancaster commented as another ice wall erupted between Lysander and his support mage. "Her tactical acumen proves why she received a first-round bye!"


    Lysander maintained his composure despite his team¡¯s increasingly precarious position. Thomas¡¯s shield bore frost damage, while Maria struggled to find clear lines of fire through the ice labyrinth. Edwin had already suffered a minor injury from an ice shard, reducing their support capabilities. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It appears House Blackvale¡¯s representative finds himself in a difficult position," Lancaster observed.


    As if triggered by those very words, Lysander¡¯s demeanor shifted. With fluid grace, he stepped forward and straightened to his full height. The air around him shimmered as he accessed power he¡¯d clearly been concealing.


    "What¡¯s this?" Lancaster¡¯s voice carried genuine surprise. "The mana density around Blackvale has suddenly doubled¡ªa clear indicator of C-rank capability! He¡¯s been holding back significantly!"


    Geometric patterns of arcane energy emanated from Lysander¡¯s fingertips, cutting through Claire¡¯s ice constructs with mathematical precision. The temperature around him normalized as his [Arcane Dominion] systematically neutralized the Wintermist team¡¯s advantage.


    The audience watched as geometric patterns of arcane energy systematically neutralized Claire¡¯s elaborate ice constructs. Despite her tactical adaptations, Lysander maintained absolute control of the battlefield, his teammates executing their roles with practiced precision.


    Claire¡¯s expression transitioned from confidence to shock as her carefully constructed ice fortress began disintegrating under Lysander¡¯s true power. After a brief moment of resistance, she lowered her hands.


    "Claire Wintermist concedes! Victory to Team Blackvale!" Lancaster announced as the crowd erupted in excited discussion. "A reminder that appearances can be deceiving while on the battlefield!"


    Platform Three hosted perhaps the most visually spectacular confrontation as Aurora Silverwind¡¯s spiritual energies clashed against Raven Bloodworth¡¯s crimson techniques.


    "A battle of opposing philosophies!" Lancaster narrated. "Aurora¡¯s Spirit Resonance embodies harmony and natural balance, while Raven¡¯s Blood Pulse represents assertion of will over physical limitations!"


    Ethereal barriers of translucent blue light intercepted streams of controlled blood, creating mesmerizing patterns where the energies met. Diana Vale synchronized her enhancements with Aurora¡¯s defenses, amplifying their effectiveness, while Victor Cross enhanced Raven¡¯s blood manipulation with precise support spells.


    "The synchronization between Aurora and Diana is remarkable!" Lancaster observed. "Their spiritual energies are creating cascading protections that Raven¡¯s team struggles to penetrate!"


    Despite Raven¡¯s tactical ingenuity, Aurora¡¯s spiritual barriers proved impenetrable. The battle concluded with Aurora¡¯s team demonstrating superior endurance and coordination.


    "Victory to Team Silverwind!" Lancaster declared. "Their spiritual defenses ultimately exhausted Raven¡¯s offensive capabilities!"


    Leon Steelheart¡¯s confrontation with Damien Nightshade on Platform Four had drawn particular attention from commoner students throughout the academy. Leon¡¯s lack of talent potential made his continued advancement a compelling narrative.


    "Team Steelheart continues to demonstrate that perfect technique can overcome raw magical power!" Lancaster exclaimed as Leon executed a flawless sequence of sword movements that neutralized Damien¡¯s necrotic projections. "Their coordination is impeccable!"


    The match concluded with Leon¡¯s systematic approach overwhelming Damien¡¯s increasingly desperate attacks.


    "Victory to Team Steelheart!" Lancaster announced to enthusiastic applause. "Another demonstration that talent isn¡¯t everything!"


    On Platforms Five and Six, Eliza Runecaster¡¯s methodical rune magic eventually overcame Tristan Hawkeye¡¯s precision attacks, while Valeria Stormrider¡¯s weather manipulators emerged victorious against Talon Beastheart¡¯s transformations after a grueling battle that stretched the full time limit.


    "And thus, our third round concludes!" Lancaster¡¯s voice carried a note of genuine excitement. "Six exceptional teams advance to the fourth round, each demonstrating unique strengths and approaches to magical combat. The question remains¡ªwho among these remarkable freshmen will claim the coveted Archmage¡¯s Medallion?"


    The crowds roared their approval as magical indicators flashed across the arena, confirming the official results. Spectators began analyzing potential fourth-round matchups, many eyes tracking Ambrose¡¯s party as they left the platform without a single spell cast or weapon drawn¡ªtheir reputation growing more formidable with each effortless victory.

 Chapter 93: B Rank Hero

    In the lull between battles, Ambrose and his team occupied a section of the arena¡¯s tiered benches, a small island of calm amidst the tournament¡¯s electric atmosphere. The remaining five teams cast frequent glances in their direction¡ªsome filled with trepidation, others with calculating assessment. Whispered conversations and subtle pointing made it clear that Team Rothschild had become the spectacle within the spectacle, their effortless victories casting a long shadow over the competition.


    Ambrose, however, had mentally departed from the arena entirely. The upcoming matchups held little interest for him; with Hualing¡¯s overwhelming combat presence and Marcus¡¯s formidable swordsmanship, their advancement seemed all but guaranteed regardless of opposition. Instead, his brilliant mind was occupied with a far more intriguing puzzle¡ªthe correlation between the system stats and hero rankings.


    Ambrose scanned through the stats of many people in the arena, filling his database with information that may or may not be useful later. As he was filing this data, patterns emerged from the data, connections crystallizing into a coherent framework that answered his earlier curiosity.


    Ambrose concluded that rank advancement corresponded directly to inherent stat thresholds¡ªa primary attribute unique to each individual¡¯s class or specialization. For berserkers, stamina formed their cornerstone; warriors relied on strength; whereas mages, healers, and intelligence-focused individuals like himself depended on their intelligence stats. He didn¡¯t know if there were other stats that other classes scaled off but it didn¡¯t matter, after all, the conclusion would probably be the same.


    The progression followed a clear doubling pattern: F-rank represented baseline human capability with an inherent stat of 5, while each subsequent rank required doubling the previous threshold¡ª10 for E-rank, 20 for D-rank, 40 for C-rank, 80 for B-rank, and 160 for the rarefied A-rank.


    A smile of satisfaction curved his lips as he mentally positioned himself within this hierarchy. With his intelligence stat at 135, he comfortably exceeded the B-rank threshold of 80, yet remained short of the 160 required for A-rank. Still, this revelation carried significant implications.


    "I¡¯m actually a B-rank hero," he thought with quiet amusement, appreciating the irony that despite his physical frailty, he technically possessed the highest rank within his own party. B-rank heroes were uncommon enough, but a B-rank intelligence specialist was even rarer, after all, it was harder to increase intelligence. Although one could increase other physical stats through training, for intelligence it wasn¡¯t cut and dried, different classes had their own advancement methods, for mages, it was easier, mostly magic research and personal experimentation was enough for someone to advance. Other classifications weren¡¯t all that different from this and required their own form of research to maybe gain an epiphany and advance. But this was hard and required investing a lot of time to just reading, this was why many high ranking intelligence-types were old.


    His contemplation was interrupted by a surge of excited murmurs rippling through the crowd. The massive crystalline display had illuminated with the fourth-round matchups, its azure glow painting the arena in cool light as it proclaimed:


    Ambrose¡¯s Team vs. Eliza¡¯s Team


    Lysander¡¯s Team vs. Aurora¡¯s Team


    Leon¡¯s Team vs. Valeria¡¯s Team


    Ambrose¡¯s gaze lingered on their assigned opponents¡ªEliza Runecaster¡¯s team of rune specialists. His Mind¡¯s Eye had already cataloged their capabilities: methodical, preparation-dependent, but formidable when given time to establish their magical foundations.


    "Perfect," he thought, already formulating strategies to disrupt their careful planning. "I just hope Hualing knows when to stop"


    ¡­


    Eliza Runecaster stood at the base of the platform, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she gazed up at the arena that would soon witness her team¡¯s likely defeat. She had navigated the tournament¡¯s treacherous waters with skill and determination until now, her rune magic proving formidable against conventional opponents. But as she watched Sun Hualing on the opposite side, Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned her entirely.


    "We¡¯ve drawn the worst possible match," she whispered to herself, fingers curling into tight fists.


    Despite the overwhelming odds, Eliza straightened her shoulders and began the ascent to the platform, her team following behind with expressions ranging from nervous determination to resigned acceptance. The thought of surrender briefly flitted through her mind¡ªa quick forfeit would spare them potential humiliation or injury. But when she glanced back at her companions¡ªFinn, Astrid, Soren, and Freya¡ªtheir trust in her leadership was palpable, stirring something resolute within her chest. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I can¡¯t win this for them, she acknowledged internally, but I can ensure we perform admirably enough to maintain our ranking. Perhaps if we demonstrate sufficient skill, even in defeat...


    Her gaze drifted back to Sun Hualing, the notorious combatant whose previous performances had reduced experienced fighters to trembling surrender. A chill raced down Eliza¡¯s spine.


    If I can just ensure we all walk away from this intact, that will be victory enough.


    On the opposite side of the platform, Ambrose Rothschild assumed what had become his signature position¡ªsitting cross-legged in perfect meditative posture, seemingly disconnected from the impending battle. This time, however, Adelaide joined him, settling gracefully beside him with a small pouch of colorful confections nestled in her lap.


    "Here, try this one," Adelaide offered with a playful smile, selecting a crystallized fruit and pressing it gently to Ambrose¡¯s lips. The sweetness burst across his tongue as she watched expectantly.


    "Is it good?" she inquired, her red hair catching the afternoon light.


    Ambrose nodded appreciatively as he swallowed. "Quite, though I¡¯m not certain food is permitted during matches," he mused, glancing toward the officiating panel.


    Adelaide¡¯s smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. "It should be fine. After all," she cast a meaningful glance toward Hualing and Marcus, "we¡¯re not the ones fighting anyway."


    Their casual conversation was joined by Meihua, who settled on Adelaide¡¯s other side with fluid grace. Without asking permission, she selected a candy from the pouch and popped it into her mouth, her calculating eyes never leaving the opposing team.


    Across the platform, Eliza¡¯s team stared in disbelief at this display of absolute nonchalance. Murmurs rippled through the spectators as well¡ªnobles and commoners alike taken aback by Team Rothschild¡¯s apparent dismissal of tournament protocol. Even the announcer faltered momentarily, his practiced commentary failing him until a colleague¡¯s subtle nudge prompted him back to awareness.


    "Ahem! Ladies and gentlemen, we begin the fourth round with Team Rothschild facing Team Runecaster!" he declared, voice magically amplified across the arena. "Begin!"


    The instant the barrier shimmered into full activation, Hualing launched herself forward with frightening speed. Marcus caught only a glimpse of her departure before shaking his head with a resigned smile.


    It¡¯ll be over before I can even draw my sword, he realized. He sighed as he decided to protect his non-combatant teammates instead. But when he turned around to look at the so-called non-combatants, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of them casually sharing snacks, apparently unbothered by their proximity to battle.


    As expected of the young master, Marcus thought with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. He doesn¡¯t even consider these opponents worthy of his attention.

 Chapter 94: Eliza Runecaster [PART 1]

    As the barrier shimmered into existence around the platform, Hualing launched forward with predatory precision. Her crimson eyes narrowed with singular focus¡ªswift elimination meant no opportunity for harm to befall her master. Each step propelled her across the arena floor with unnatural speed, her form becoming almost a blur to the spectators¡¯ eyes.


    Behind her, Ambrose immediately activated his [Spatial Awareness] skill, his consciousness expanding outward like an invisible web. Though he maintained peripheral awareness of their opponents, his primary focus remained fixed on Hualing¡¯s movements. She represented both their greatest asset and potentially their greatest liability¡ªif she really went out of control, it might cause their team to be disqualified.


    Ambrose glanced toward Marcus standing protectively before them, a contemplative smile touching his lips. The supposed protagonist had barely drawn his sword throughout the tournament, denied the opportunity to showcase his considerable skills. Ambrose apologized internally to the protagonist who had been robbed of his opportunity to show off. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want Marcus to fight, it was just that their team, though strong, was terribly imbalanced, for them to secure the championship, they had to win so overwhelmingly that their party scores wouldn¡¯t make a difference even if they were zero.


    Ambrose channeled his [Thought Transmission] ability, sending his message directly into Hualing¡¯s consciousness: "~Remember what I said, hold back! If you go overboard, we will be disqualified." The words projected with crystal clarity, though whether she would heed them remained uncertain. Ambrose sighed softly, hoping his warning would penetrate her combat focus.


    Across the platform, Eliza Runecaster¡¯s team responded with impressive coordination. The moment the battle commenced, they flowed into a perfect pentagon formation with practiced synchronicity. Finn, Astrid, Soren, and Freya positioned themselves at the corner points, their hands already tracing intricate runic patterns in the air. Glowing sigils began materializing around them, forming the foundation of their defensive strategy.


    Eliza positioned herself at the rear corner, serving as the formation¡¯s core and control point. Her fingers danced in complex patterns, connecting and enhancing the protective runes her teammates were establishing. Her expression betrayed no illusion of victory¡ªshe harbored no such delusions. Instead, her strategy focused on endurance, on withstanding the coming onslaught long enough to earn respectable marks in the ranking assessment.


    Shimmering lines of magical energy connected the five runic specialists, creating a web of interlocking defensive enchantments. The air within their formation thickened visibly as layers of protection manifested¡ªtranslucent barriers designed to absorb, deflect, and disperse incoming attacks. Eliza¡¯s eyes narrowed in concentration as she channeled additional power into the formation¡¯s foundation, reinforcing critical junctures against the anticipated assault.


    From his position guarding Ambrose, Marcus observed the defensive strategy with professional appreciation. A solid approach, he thought, nodding slightly. Even I would struggle to breach that formation within the ten-minute limit. His eyes tracked Hualing¡¯s charging form, curiosity kindling in his mind. I wonder if the same holds true for her?


    The tension in the arena crystallized as an unstoppable force hurtled toward an immovable defense. Spectators leaned forward in anticipation, collective breath held as they waited to see which would prevail¡ªHualing¡¯s overwhelming offensive might or Eliza¡¯s meticulously constructed defensive formation. The inevitable collision promised to be nothing short of spectacular.


    ¡­


    The pentagon formation gleamed with runic intensity on the tournament platform. At its frontline, Astrid and Soren stood with unwavering focus, their hands flowing through complex patterns that reinforced the barrier¡¯s primary defenses. They represented the formation¡¯s visible strength, a calculated display of power meant to intimidate and misdirect. Behind them, Finn and Freya maintained precision movements that layered additional protective enchantments, their fingers tracing glowing symbols that pulsed with rune energy.


    At the formation¡¯s apex, Eliza Runecaster maintained her position with composed confidence. Though she appeared sheltered behind her teammates¡ªa commander safely behind her soldiers¡ªthe reality proved far different. Her role as the core demanded the greatest concentration and mana expenditure, continuously feeding power into the formation while preparing instant repairs for any breach. Sweat beaded subtly at her temples as she channeled energy through the complex magical architecture, her eyes never leaving the approaching threat.


    Here it comes, she thought, watching Hualing close the distance with frightening speed.


    The impact resonated throughout the arena¡ªa thunderous collision as Hualing¡¯s fist struck the barrier¡¯s front. The protective runes flared brilliantly upon contact, magical energy dispersing the tremendous force across the entire formation. Astrid and Soren grimaced slightly, their bodies tensing as they absorbed the residual impact, but the formation held steady.


    Relief flickered across Eliza¡¯s features. Perhaps we can endure this after all.


    Her optimism proved short-lived. Hualing struck again with redoubled force, the second impact more devastating than the first. The entire barrier rippled visibly, luminous cracks appearing before instantly sealing themselves through Eliza¡¯s intervention. Astrid and Soren¡¯s expressions tightened with strain, their arms trembling slightly as they maintained their defensive postures.


    Without pause, Hualing delivered a third strike, even more powerful than the previous two. The formation shuddered ominously, magical energy fluctuating as it struggled to redistribute the overwhelming force. Yet through Eliza¡¯s swift repairs, the barrier stabilized once more, holding against the assault.


    A confident smile touched Eliza¡¯s lips despite her growing fatigue. She¡¯s stronger than anticipated, but her approach is painfully predictable. Her fingers danced through emergency reinforcement patterns, strengthening the formation¡¯s front where Hualing focused her attacks. Such a simplistic strategy¡ªhammering the same spot repeatedly as if brute force alone will prevail.


    Eliza¡¯s confidence grew with each subsequent attack. The five-person formation represented the culmination of her runic studies¡ªa defensive masterpiece specifically designed against overwhelming physical force. Though Astrid and Soren appeared to be creating the barrier, their primary function was misdirection. The real defensive work came from Finn and Freya¡¯s support enchantments and Eliza¡¯s instant repairs.


    Even if she strikes the same location a hundred times, it¡¯s effectively the first hit each time, Eliza thought with growing satisfaction. Unless she can somehow deliver catastrophic damage in a single blow, this strategy is doomed to failure.


    Across the platform, Ambrose observed the exchange with analytical detachment. He recognized the effectiveness of Eliza¡¯s strategy against Hualing¡¯s straightforward approach, his mind already formulating counters. With practiced ease, he activated his [Thought Transmission].


    "~Stop hitting the same place, it won¡¯t work!" he projected directly into Hualing¡¯s consciousness.


    Hualing paused mid-strike, surprise evident in her expression as she processed his instruction.


    "~Try targeting the edges, focus on where the people are," Ambrose continued, his mental voice calm and precise. "~Although the barrier can be repaired quickly, if you apply enough force to disrupt even one person¡¯s concentration, you¡¯ll create an opening to break the entire formation."


    Hualing¡¯s lips curved into a predatory smile. As expected of her master¡ªhis brilliant mind effortlessly constructed solutions where she saw only obstacles. She abandoned her previous approach, pivoting smoothly to redirect her attack toward the formation¡¯s edge where Astrid maintained her position.


    Eliza watched this sudden change in tactics with mounting horror. How did she know? The realization struck like ice water¡ªthey had adapted their strategy mid-battle with unsettling precision. Her gaze darted past Hualing to the remainder of Team Rothschild, finally registering Ambrose¡¯s calculating presence.


    When he noticed her attention, Ambrose offered a friendly wave and disarming smile, the gesture almost mocking in its casualness.


    Eliza felt her confidence crumble. In her singular focus on countering Hualing¡¯s overwhelming strength, she had committed a fundamental error¡ªforgetting the nature of team combat. While she had prepared extensively against physical might, she had neglected the strategic dimension that Ambrose Rothschild provided to his party.


    S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 95: Eliza Runecaster [PART 2]

    Astrid stood firm at her corner of the formation, maintaining the geometric integrity essential to their defensive strategy. As Hualing changed course and approached her position, nervousness bubbled in her stomach despite her best efforts to suppress it. When those crimson eyes locked onto hers, an involuntary shiver raced down her spine¡ªa primal recognition of predator versus prey that transcended rational thought.


    Still, Astrid clung to logical reassurance. I¡¯m inside the barrier. Our formation is sound. She can¡¯t reach me. The mantra steadied her hands as she continued weaving the rune patterns necessary for their collective defense.


    Unexpectedly, Hualing¡¯s gaze shifted from Astrid to the barrier itself, her expression transforming from predatory to clinically analytical. The sudden disinterest brought Astrid a wave of relief. Better she forget about me entirely, she thought, observing the crimson-eyed fighter¡¯s intimidating presence. Even without overt aggression, something about Hualing¡¯s demeanor¡ªperhaps those unnaturally red eyes¡ªevoked a sense of latent danger that set Astrid¡¯s nerves on edge.


    What happened next sent shock rippling through the entire arena. Instead of adjusting her tactics, Hualing simply drove her bare fist directly into the barrier¡¯s edge with full force. The sickening sound of flesh tearing echoed across the platform as the magical barrier¡¯s cutting energies sliced through her skin and muscle. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, spattering across the pristine platform surface.


    From his vantage point, Ambrose couldn¡¯t help but palm his face in exasperation. I told her to target the edges, not mutilate herself in the process, he thought. Does she truly have no sense of self-preservation?


    Spectators gasped collectively, hands rising to cover mouths in horror. Even Eliza¡¯s team momentarily lost concentration, their synchronized runic patterns faltering as they watched Hualing examine her mangled hand with disturbing detachment¡ªas if the ravaged limb belonged to someone else entirely.


    The true horror, however, was yet to come. The blood dripping from Hualing¡¯s wound suddenly defied gravity, rising from the platform floor in sinuous streams. These crimson rivulets twisted through the air with apparent intelligence, weaving together to form thread-like structures that began meticulously stitching her torn flesh. The wound closed under this macabre self-surgery, leaving her hand intact but glistening with excess blood.


    Rather than wiping this blood away, Hualing concentrated, manipulating the crimson liquid to coalesce in her palm. It stretched and solidified, transforming into a gleaming blood-red sword with a wickedly sharp edge. She tested its weight and balance with a few experimental movements before returning her attention to the barrier¡¯s edge.


    This time when she struck, the sound changed dramatically¡ªa crystalline shattering that reverberated through the arena. The golden barrier fractured at its corner, magical fragments dispersing like illusory glass before dissolving into motes of light upon touching the ground. The impact sent Astrid flying backward, her concentration completely broken as she tumbled across the platform. Explore more stories at FreeNovelFire


    Eliza frantically channeled emergency power to repair the breach, her fingers tracing desperate patterns in the air. But Hualing was already inside their defensive perimeter, a predator that had slipped past the gate. Without hesitation, she moved toward Soren with frightening speed, materializing before him with her blood-sword raised for a lethal strike.


    "~Not with the sword!" Ambrose¡¯s mental command cut through her battle focus.


    Instantly, the blood weapon liquefied, the crimson fluid flowing back into Hualing¡¯s palm as it was reabsorbed. For a brief, hopeful moment, Soren believed himself spared¡ªa misplaced optimism that evaporated when Hualing¡¯s fist connected with his abdomen instead. The impact was precisely calculated¡ªnot enough to render him unconscious, but sufficient to create debilitating pain that effectively removed him from combat.


    Soren collapsed to his knees, arms wrapped around his midsection, face contorted in agony. Though conscious, he might as well have been eliminated¡ªthe pain was too intense to maintain the concentration necessary for runic casting.


    Hualing turned toward the formation¡¯s remaining defenders with unhurried confidence. Her leisurely pace somehow proved more terrifying than a rush would have been¡ªthe calm certainty of a predator that knows its prey cannot escape. Finn and Freya felt ice settle in their veins as they watched her approach, their hands trembling slightly as they desperately tried to maintain what remained of their defensive formation.


    At the rear, Eliza¡¯s mind raced through possible countermeasures, but the cold reality was undeniable¡ªtheir carefully constructed defense had been breached with frightening efficiency. The true battle was only beginning, and they were already losing.


    ¡­


    Astrid remained sprawled on the platform where she had fallen, her body refusing to cooperate with any attempt to rise. As Hualing approached, Astrid¡¯s heart hammered against her ribs, certain that her end had come. To her astonishment, Hualing simply strode past without sparing her a glance, as if she were no more significant than tournament debris.


    Relief flooded through Astrid¡¯s trembling form. Where others might have felt insulted by such dismissal, she embraced the lifeline it represented. Let her ignore me. Please, just let her forget I exist, she prayed silently. Any thought of rejoining the battle evaporated like morning dew. What difference could she possibly make now? The formation was broken, their strategy shattered. Astrid relaxed back onto the cool surface of the platform, feigning greater injury than she had sustained.


    Hualing¡¯s leisurely pace belied the predatory focus in her crimson gaze as she evaluated her next target. Finn, noticing her attention shift toward him, abandoned any pretense of continuing the fight. Panic overrode training as he turned to flee, his desperate scramble triggering something primal in Hualing¡¯s response. Her casual stride transformed instantly into blinding speed, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat.


    Before Finn could register her movement, Hualing executed a perfect sweeping kick that connected with devastating precision. His feet left the ground as his body described an arc through the air, landing with a dull thud several meters away. Though the impact sent pain shooting through his legs, the rest of him remained largely unharmed. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Finn lay motionless, one eye barely cracked open to observe Hualing¡¯s reaction. He had noticed the pattern¡ªthose who stayed down were passed over. With deliberate stillness, he maintained his position on the ground, breath held as Hualing¡¯s gaze swept over him. Just as he had hoped, she dismissed him as neutralized, shifting her attention to the remaining targets.


    Freya watched Hualing¡¯s approach with growing terror, her hands lifting in desperate defense as she began forming a complex cubic rune structure. Golden light coalesced between her palms, geometric patterns solidifying as she poured her remaining mana into the spell. But the incantation required precious seconds she simply didn¡¯t have.


    Hualing materialized before her, hands suddenly interlocking with Freya¡¯s own in a twisted parody of partnership. The half-formed rune cube shattered between their joined hands, its carefully structured energy collapsing in chaotic discharge. Freya¡¯s scream pierced the arena as magical backlash seared through her nerves, the failed spell¡¯s energy rebounding through her system.


    Without releasing her grip, Hualing applied steady downward pressure, forcing Freya to her knees as her strength failed against the overwhelming force. When Freya finally collapsed to the ground, she made the wise decision to remain there, abandoning further resistance. Hualing acknowledged this surrender by immediately turning away, her attention now fixed solely on the party leader.


    Eliza had just managed to steady herself after absorbing the formation¡¯s catastrophic failure. As the core anchor, she had suffered the worst of the backlash when their defensive structure collapsed. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, its metallic taste a sharp reminder of her vulnerability. With a defiant gesture, she spat a crimson droplet and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.


    Despite the odds, Eliza¡¯s expression hardened with determination as she faced the approaching threat. Her hands rose in precise formation, fingers tracing intricate patterns that manifested as golden geometric constructs hovering between her palms. Complex runic equations materialized in concentric rings around her body, pulsing with concentrated magical energy.


    Unlike her teammates, Eliza would not surrender without demonstrating the full extent of her capabilities. If defeat was inevitable, she would at least leave an impression worthy of respect. The golden light of her runes cast dramatic shadows across her face as she stared directly into Hualing¡¯s crimson eyes, ready for the final confrontation.


    Let her come, Eliza thought, magic humming through her veins. I may fall, but not without showing why I lead.


    ¡­


    Leaks Corner:


    [Name: Leon Steelheart]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: null]


    [Health: 4000/4000]


    [Mana: 0/0]


    [Strength: 45]


    [Stamina: 40]


    [Agility: 40]


    ¡ª


    [Name: Lysander Blackvale]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Arcane Dominion (Legendary)]


    [Health: 1200/1000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 8]


    [Stamina: 12]


    [Agility: 7]

 Chapter 96: Eliza Runecaster [PART 3]

    As Hualing closed the distance, Eliza channeled her power into a desperate counterattack. Golden geometric shapes materialized between her fingers, their edges gleaming with arcane energy as she hurled them toward her approaching adversary. Hualing responded with casual indifference, tilting her head just enough for the projectiles to sail past her ear, the movement so minimal it appeared almost contemptuous.


    A triumphant smile flickered across Eliza¡¯s face as she executed a subtle finger movement. The golden constructs reversed trajectory in mid-air, curving sharply to target Hualing from behind¡ªa classic misdirection technique that had claimed countless overconfident opponents.


    Hualing didn¡¯t bother to look back. With eerie precision, a single thread of blood extended from her fingertip, dancing through the air like a conductor¡¯s baton. The crimson filament intercepted Eliza¡¯s attack with surgical accuracy, slicing through the complex geometric patterns as though they were nothing more substantial than morning mist. The golden constructs flickered briefly before dissolving entirely, their accumulated magical energy dispersing in fading motes of light.


    Determination hardened Eliza¡¯s features as she witnessed her technique neutralized with such casual ease. Her hands rose once more, fingers already weaving the framework for a more potent incantation. But Hualing had closed the remaining distance with frightening speed, suddenly materializing directly before her. Before Eliza could complete her spell, Hualing¡¯s hands interlocked with her own, crushing the half-formed magic between their palms.


    Despair flashed across Eliza¡¯s face¡ªthen transformed into unexpected triumph. "Got you!" she declared, her fingers suddenly clamping down on Hualing¡¯s with surprising strength.


    Hualing¡¯s eyes widened with momentary surprise, but her realization came too late. The trap had been sprung. Blinding golden light erupted from beneath Hualing¡¯s feet, engulfing her completely in a pillar of concentrated runic energy. The conflagration burned with searing intensity, its brilliance forcing spectators to shield their eyes as the platform trembled under the magical detonation.


    Throughout the arena, surprised murmurs rippled through the crowd. They hadn¡¯t noticed Eliza preparing such an elaborate trap. As the pillar of light began to fade, many leaned forward in anticipation, wondering if this cleverly concealed ambush had turned the tide.


    Eliza herself watched the dissipating energy with cautious optimism. Half my magical reserves went into that trap, she thought, breathing heavily from the exertion. I laid it the moment I realized she would target our barrier¡¯s edge. It should have at least injured her severely.


    As smoke and magical residue cleared from the platform, revealing the trap¡¯s aftermath, Eliza¡¯s momentary hope collapsed into stunned disbelief. Hualing stood exactly where she had been, barely moved by the explosive force that should have incapacitated even a high-ranking combatant. A few minor bruises marred her exposed skin¡ªthe equivalent of light sunburn rather than the devastating damage the trap had been designed to inflict.


    Most terrifying of all was Hualing¡¯s expression. Those crimson eyes bored into Eliza¡¯s with such primal intensity that the rune specialist felt her very soul exposed. In that moment, Eliza understood what true fear meant¡ªnot the academic concern of potential defeat, but the visceral terror of facing something beyond conventional understanding.


    From his meditative position across the platform, Ambrose observed the exchange. "Of course she survived" Ambrose thought, he had already seen this little trick the moment it happened. But he hadn¡¯t bothered telling Hualing as he didnt feel that it mattered. He also thought that although it couldn¡¯t hurt her, it might teach Hualing to think instead of just relying on brute force, but looking at it now, it seemed to have just made her even more angry.


    His gaze lingered on the few superficial marks that constituted the entirety of damage Hualing had sustained. Then again, with her stamina stat merely a point below B-rank threshold, conventional attacks pose little threat.


    What appeared to spectators as an ingenious countermeasure had amounted to little more than a mosquito bite against Hualing¡¯s overwhelming physical resilience¡ªserving only to intensify her focus on her prey.


    ¡­


    Eliza stared at Hualing, genuine fear finally breaking through her composed exterior. The creature before her defied conventional understanding¡ªeven her most powerful trap had proven ineffective. Yet beneath that fear, something stubborn burned in Eliza¡¯s core. She drew a steadying breath, forcing herself to meet those crimson eyes with renewed determination.


    Her gaze dropped to their interlocked hands, and a desperate inspiration sparked. One last trick. A grim smile curved her lips as she began channeling magic directly through their point of contact¡ªa simple spike rune that required minimal preparation.


    "If I can¡¯t break free conventionally..." she thought, steeling herself for what would come next.


    Eliza gritted her teeth as the spell activated. Pain lanced through her palms as magical spikes erupted from her flesh, tearing through both her hands and Hualing¡¯s in a single savage moment. The force separated them, creating precious distance as blood flowed freely from Eliza¡¯s self-inflicted wounds.


    Gasps rippled through the crowd¡ªeven hardened combat students shocked by such deliberate self-mutilation. Her own teammates looked on in horror, witnessing their leader¡¯s desperation.


    Hualing merely glanced at her injured hands with clinical detachment. Blood already danced around her wounds, weaving intricate patterns as it sealed the damage with supernatural efficiency. Unlike her opponent, Eliza had no such healing ability. She raised her bleeding hands defiantly, crimson droplets spattering the platform beneath her as she summoned her next spell. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Golden geometric constructs materialized despite her injuries, their edges less crisp than before as her concentration wavered. She launched them toward Hualing with a hoarse cry, pouring what remained of her strength into the attack. Hualing dispatched them easily, blood threads slicing through the shapes like scissors through paper, their fragments dissolving into sparkling motes.


    Undeterred, Eliza summoned another volley, then another. Her vision began to blur, Hualing¡¯s form doubling in her perception. I¡¯m feeling dizzy, she realized dimly, the blood loss and mana depletion taking their toll. Still, her hands continued their desperate dance, weaving spell after diminishing spell.


    "Just a little longer," she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself. "For my team. They believe in me."


    Victory had never been her objective¡ªshe fought merely for time, for rating points, for her team¡¯s future prospects within the academy. Each additional second of resistance represented a small victory against overwhelming odds.


    The world tilted suddenly, blue sky filling her vision where moments before there had been her opponent. Confusion passed through her fading consciousness. I¡¯m on the ground, she realized. When did that happen?


    With trembling arms, she attempted to push herself upright. Just one more minute... just need to reach the five minute mark... then I can...


    Hands gently restrained her, not Hualing¡¯s but familiar ones¡ªher teammates, surrounding her with concerned expressions.


    "Stop," Finn urged softly. "You can stop now."


    "Stop?" Eliza repeated, the word slurring slightly. "No, I have to¡ª"


    "It¡¯s okay," Astrid interjected, her voice gentle but firm. "You¡¯ve already done enough."


    "Enough?" The concept seemed foreign to Eliza¡¯s determined mind.


    "Yes," Soren confirmed, squeezing her shoulder gently. "More than enough."


    The tension drained from Eliza¡¯s body as the words penetrated her fading consciousness. Enough?, she thought as her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Enough...


    Her eyes closed as exhaustion claimed her, consciousness slipping away into merciful darkness.


    "Victory to Team Rothschild!" the announcer¡¯s voice boomed across the arena, officially declaring what everyone had known from the match¡¯s beginning.


    Eliza¡¯s teammates carefully lifted their unconscious leader, their expressions a mixture of concern and proud reverence. As they passed Hualing, they paused briefly, bowing their heads slightly in acknowledgment.


    "Thank you for showing restraint with our leader," Freya said softly.


    Astrid nodded in agreement. "We won¡¯t forget this. Next tournament, we¡¯ll be stronger¡ªbe prepared."


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    Hualing watched impassively as they departed, their words registering but their sentiment escaping her comprehension. After they disappeared from view, she tilted her head slightly in confusion.


    "What¡¯s up with them?"

 Chapter 97: The Fourth Round

    "Victory to Team Rothschild!" Professor Lancaster¡¯s voice boomed across the arena as the magical barriers surrounding Platform One shimmered and dissolved. The crowd¡¯s reaction was a mixture of awe and stunned silence as they processed what they had witnessed¡ªEliza Runecaster, despite her tactical brilliance and desperate courage, had ultimately succumbed to Sun Hualing¡¯s overwhelming combat prowess.


    Medical staff hurried onto the platform, carefully attending to Eliza¡¯s unconscious form. Her teammates gathered protectively around her, their expressions a complex blend of concern and pride. Though defeated, their leader had demonstrated remarkable resolve against impossible odds, lasting longer against Team Rothschild than any previous opponent.


    "What extraordinary determination from Team Runecaster!" Lancaster continued, genuine respect evident in his voice. "Though victory eluded them, they¡¯ve demonstrated exceptional tactical acumen and teamwork under pressure. Such qualities will undoubtedly serve them well in their academic journey!"


    The professor turned his attention to the remaining platforms, where battles still raged with increasing intensity. "But don¡¯t let your attention waver, ladies and gentlemen! Two semifinals positions remain to be claimed on Platforms Two and Three!"


    On Platform Two, arcane geometry clashed against spiritual manifestations as Lysander Blackvale¡¯s team faced Aurora Silverwind¡¯s specialists in a spectacular display of contrasting magical philosophies. The platform had been transformed into a battlefield of mathematical precision versus ethereal power, visible magical energies creating a kaleidoscopic display that drew gasps from the crowd.


    "Witness the tactical dance between House Blackvale and House Silverwind!" Lancaster narrated, his voice carrying across the arena. "Two of our kingdom¡¯s Great Houses demonstrating why their lineages command such respect in magical circles!"


    Aurora stood at her formation¡¯s center, her silver hair streaming behind her as if caught in an otherworldly breeze. Translucent spiritual entities surrounded her team, their ghostly forms intercepting and neutralizing Lysander¡¯s geometric arcane projections. Diana Vale enhanced these manifestations with her Spirit Enhancement talent, creating a defensive barrier that had thus far withstood every assault.


    "Remarkable synergy between Silverwind and Vale!" Lancaster observed. "Their combined talents create spiritual defenses that conventional magic struggles to penetrate!"


    Lysander¡¯s expression remained composed despite the challenge, his calculating eyes analyzing the spiritual barrier with methodical precision. With a series of elegant gestures, he directed his teammates into a pentagonal formation, their movements creating a complex arcane matrix that pulsed with concentrated power.


    "Blackvale counters with pure arcane architecture!" Lancaster called out as geometric patterns began manifesting around Lysander¡¯s team. "His Arcane Dominion talent allows him to structure magical forces with unparalleled efficiency!"


    The two magical systems clashed in spectacular fashion, arcane equations attempting to solve and neutralize the spiritual manifestations through mathematical precision. For several tense moments, neither approach gained clear advantage, the magical deadlock creating rippling shockwaves across the platform.


    Then Lysander executed a subtle hand movement that changed everything. His arcane constructs suddenly shifted frequency, reconfiguring into patterns that resonated with rather than opposed the spiritual entities. The phantasmal guardians began vibrating uncontrollably, their forms destabilizing as the arcane mathematics exploited previously invisible weaknesses in their structure.


    "Brilliant adaptation from Blackvale!" Lancaster exclaimed as the spiritual defenses began to collapse. "He¡¯s analyzing the spiritual resonance patterns and restructuring his arcane equations to exploit harmonic vulnerabilities!"


    Aurora desperately attempted to stabilize her crumbling defenses, but Lysander¡¯s mathematical precision proved relentless. The spiritual barrier shattered completely, leaving her team exposed to the full force of Blackvale¡¯s arcane assault. Despite valiant resistance, Aurora¡¯s team found themselves systematically neutralized by precisely calculated magic that seemed to anticipate their every countermeasure.


    "Victory to Team Blackvale!" Lancaster announced as Aurora finally conceded the match. "A masterclass in magical adaptation and tactical analysis!"


    Meanwhile, on Platform Three, Leon Steelheart¡¯s team faced Valeria Stormrider¡¯s weather manipulators in a battle of conventional combat against elemental fury. The platform had become a microcosm of meteorological chaos¡ªlocalized storms, lightning strikes, and wind gusts creating a battlefield of environmental hazards.


    "Stormrider¡¯s team has transformed the very battlefield itself!" Lancaster narrated as another lightning bolt crashed against Laura Shield¡¯s defensive barrier. "Their Weather Sense talent allows unprecedented control over localized atmospheric conditions!"


    Leon advanced steadily through the magical tempest, his sword cutting through wind currents with perfect precision. Despite lacking magical talent, his physical abilities and combat instincts allowed him to navigate the hazardous conditions with remarkable effectiveness. His teammates followed his example, maintaining disciplined formation despite the chaotic battlefield.


    "Extraordinary discipline from Team Steelheart!" Lancaster observed. "Despite facing opponents with substantial environmental control, they maintain perfect coordination and tactical focus!"


    Valeria directed increasingly powerful weather phenomena against the advancing swordsmen, but Leon¡¯s team adapted with impressive efficiency. Ryan Swift¡¯s superior speed created tactical openings that Maya Chen exploited with well-timed support techniques, while Kai maintained aggressive pressure that prevented Valeria¡¯s team from fully concentrating their weather manipulation.


    The turning point came when Leon executed a perfect sequence of sword techniques that created vacuum slices through Valeria¡¯s storm center. The disruption destabilized the weather constructs, creating a momentary opening that his team exploited with practiced coordination. Before Valeria could reestablish control, Leon had closed the distance to her position, his sword stopping precisely at her throat.


    "Victory to Team Steelheart!" Lancaster declared as the weather phenomena dissipated. "Another demonstration that perfect technique and disciplined training can overcome seemingly advantageous magical capabilities!"


    With the fourth round¡¯s conclusion, Lancaster¡¯s voice carried across the now-silent arena: "Ladies and gentlemen, our semifinalists are determined! Ambrose Rothschild, Lysander Blackvale, and Leon Steelheart will advance to the tournament¡¯s final stages! As per tradition, the highest-scoring team thus far¡ªTeam Rothschild¡ªreceives a bye directly to the finals. Teams Blackvale and Steelheart will compete tomorrow in our semifinal match to determine who faces the Rothschild heir for the championship!"


    The crowd erupted in thunderous applause as the day¡¯s competitions came to their dramatic conclusion, anticipation building for tomorrow¡¯s climactic battles.


    ¡­


    Cassandra Blackvale hovered above the devastated landscape, her form silhouetted against the evening sky. What had once been a lush, vibrant forest now stretched before her as a blackened wasteland¡ªthousands of acres reduced to charred stumps and smoldering ash. The destruction was comprehensive, transforming the entire ecosystem into an apocalyptic tableau of ruin.


    Her fiery hair whipped around her face in violent tendrils, each strand igniting the air with dangerous sparks that threatened to reignite the already decimated terrain. The principal¡¯s eyes burned with barely contained fury as she methodically scanned the scorched earth below, searching for any trace of her quarry.


    "Come out now, you sissy boy!" Cassandra bellowed, her magically amplified voice reverberating across the wasteland with thunderous force. The demand hung in the still air, met only by the occasional crackle of lingering embers and the distant call of birds that had fled the destruction.


    Minutes stretched by as Cassandra continued her relentless search, her movements becoming increasingly agitated with each passing moment. Finally, a frustrated "Tsk!" escaped her lips¡ªa sound incongruously delicate from someone radiating such overwhelming power. With a last contemptuous survey of the ruined forest, she turned skyward and soared away, her form diminishing rapidly against the vast expanse of blue.


    The landscape remained deathly still for several minutes after her departure. Then, almost imperceptibly, a small section of charred ash began to shift and bulge. The blackened debris parted as a figure cautiously emerged from what appeared to be an improvised underground shelter.


    The rat-masked individual rose fully from his hiding place, brushing carbonized fragments from his clothing with trembling hands. His once-concealing attire had been largely incinerated, the fabric of his upper garments burned away to reveal a distinctly male physique¡ªthough not the muscled frame of a mature warrior, but rather the slender build of someone quite young and still developing.


    He examined his ruined clothing with visible dismay, turning the tattered remnants of his disguise between soot-stained fingers. "What do I do now?" he muttered, his voice carrying the unmistakable tremor of someone who had narrowly escaped death.


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    Yet remarkably, his despondency proved fleeting. Within moments, his posture straightened as an almost childlike optimism returned. "Oh well, I can just say I failed the mission," he declared with sudden brightness, as if the catastrophic encounter had been merely an inconvenient setback.


    With newfound energy, he launched himself skyward, his form rising swiftly above the devastation. "I hope Sir Snake¡¯s plan works," he called out to no one in particular as he accelerated through the air. "Otherwise, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be able to break in, unless Miss Rabbit or Sir Dragon makes a move." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The strange figure continued his rapid ascent, soon becoming nothing more than a distant speck against the cloudless sky, leaving behind only the silent testimony of Cassandra Blackvale¡¯s devastating power.

 Chapter 98: Semi-Finals

    The sun rose brilliantly over Crono Academy¡¯s grand arena, its golden rays illuminating the gleaming marble and enchanted stonework. Spectators flooded through the arched entryways, their excited chatter creating a symphony of anticipation that echoed throughout the massive colosseum. Unlike the previous day¡¯s preliminary rounds, today¡¯s event had drawn an even larger crowd, with nobles and commoners alike jostling for prime viewing positions.


    Professor Richard Lancaster stood at the center of the arena, his emerald robes freshly pressed and his silver-streaked beard impeccably groomed. He raised his magical staff, its crystal tip glowing with azure energy as he cast the voice amplification spell.


    "Welcome, honored guests and esteemed students, to the second day of our freshman ranking tournament!" Lancaster¡¯s voice boomed across the hushed arena. "Yesterday, we witnessed extraordinary displays of magical prowess and combat excellence that narrowed our field to just three remarkable teams."


    He gestured toward the VIP section where Ambrose¡¯s team sat in quiet observation. "Team Rothschild has secured their place in the championship match through their unprecedented performance, setting tournament records with victories that have already become academy legend."


    Lancaster turned toward the entrance tunnels with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "Today, we determine who shall face them in the final confrontation! Will it be Lysander Blackvale, scion of one of Avaloria¡¯s Great Houses, whose Arcane Dominion has systematically dismantled all opposition? Or Leon Steelheart, the commoner whose extraordinary swordsmanship proves that dedication and discipline can overcome even innate magical advantage?"


    The crowd roared as both teams emerged from opposite tunnels, walking with measured steps toward the central platform. Lysander led his teammates with aristocratic confidence, his bearing projecting the certainty of inherited privilege. Across the arena, Leon advanced with quiet determination, his team moving with the synchronized precision that had become their hallmark.


    "Two contrasting approaches to magic and combat," Lancaster continued as the teams took their positions. "Two philosophies that represent the very diversity that makes our academy great! May the most deserving team advance to challenge our tournament favorite!"


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    The protective barriers shimmered into existence around the platform as Lancaster raised his staff high overhead.


    "But before we begin, a quick word from our sponsors! Today¡¯s tournament is brought to you by Raid¡ª"


    ¡­


    The semi-finals arena pulsed with anticipation as Lysander Blackvale and Leon Steelheart took their positions on opposite sides of the platform. The crowd¡¯s murmurs created an undercurrent of speculation, most of it dismissive of the commoner swordsman¡¯s chances.


    "Steelheart¡¯s gotten lucky so far," a noble student remarked loudly from the front row, his voice carrying across the nearby sections. "But luck always runs out. Especially against House Blackvale."


    "Indeed," his companion agreed with a dismissive wave. "A talentless commoner against Legendary Arcane Dominion? The match is a formality at this point."


    Similar sentiments rippled through the audience, particularly among the noble sections. Though Leon had impressed with his previous victories, most viewed them as flukes rather than legitimate accomplishments. Against Lysander Blackvale¡ªfrom one of the kingdom¡¯s Great Houses¡ªsuch fortunate coincidences simply wouldn¡¯t suffice.


    Professor Lancaster raised his staff high, the crystal tip glowing brightly. "Begin!" he declared, his voice resonating throughout the arena.


    The battle erupted immediately. Lysander¡¯s team launched a coordinated barrage of arcane energy, geometric patterns cutting through the air with mathematical precision. Leon¡¯s team responded with remarkable discipline, their movements synchronized as they deflected and evaded the magical assault.


    The opening minutes revealed a surprisingly even match. For each arcane construct Lysander created, Leon found a way to neutralize it with perfect sword techniques. His teammates executed their supporting roles flawlessly, maintaining formation despite the increasing magical pressure.


    "Unexpected," Lysander murmured, his analytical mind reassessing his opponent. With subtle hand gestures, he signaled a strategic shift to his team. "Edwin, Thomas¡ªdefensive perimeter. Sarah, Maria¡ªtarget analysis."


    The Blackvale formation adapted seamlessly, their arcane patterns reconfiguring into more focused streams. Rather than targeting Leon directly, Lysander directed precision attacks toward Leon¡¯s supporting teammates.


    "Isolate the sword," Lysander instructed, his voice barely audible beneath the clash of energies. "Without his supports, he cannot maintain offensive pressure."


    The strategy proved devastatingly effective. A concentrated arcane burst penetrated Ryan¡¯s defenses, the geometric patterns wrapping around him with constricting force. Despite his impressive speed, he couldn¡¯t evade the precisely calculated attack, collapsing unconscious as the magical energy overwhelmed his system.


    Laura fell next, a triangular convergence of arcane bolts bypassing her shield through mathematical precision. The perfect angles exploited microscopic weaknesses in her defensive technique, leaving her unconscious beside Ryan.


    The crowd roared with vindicated approval, noble spectators exchanging knowing glances. "As expected," many murmured. "The commoner¡¯s luck has finally expired."


    Leon retreated strategically, positioning himself protectively before his remaining teammates. His expression remained composed despite their deteriorating situation, his sword moving in precise patterns that continued deflecting incoming attacks with remarkable efficiency.


    "Not good," he admitted to Kai and Maya, his voice steady despite their precarious position. "But we¡¯re not finished yet."


    His gaze assessed Lysander¡¯s formation, noting how the noble maintained perfect distance¡ªtoo far for conventional sword techniques to reach. The arcane specialist stood protected behind Edwin and Thomas, while Sarah and Maria provided ranged support from the formation¡¯s perimeter.


    Leon exhaled slowly, decision crystallizing in his mind. "We charge," he stated simply. "Direct approach, maximum pressure."


    Without hesitation, he launched forward, sword gleaming as it sliced through an incoming arcane construct. The precision of his technique severed the magical pattern¡¯s integrity, causing it to dissolve harmlessly. Kai and Maya flanked him perfectly, deflecting supporting attacks with practiced efficiency.


    Their synchronized advance created momentary confusion in Lysander¡¯s formation. The noble¡¯s eyes widened slightly as Leon neutralized attacks that should have been impossible to counter.


    Edwin and Thomas moved to intercept, attempting to reestablish defensive position, but Leon¡¯s sword techniques proved overwhelming. With two precision strikes, he incapacitated both defenders, their unconscious forms collapsing to the platform floor. Simultaneously, Kai and Maya engaged Sarah and Maria, neutralizing their ranged support with coordinated pressure.


    Suddenly, only Lysander remained standing, the perfect formation reduced to a single point. Leon charged toward him with unwavering focus, his sword gleaming in the arena light.


    Lysander¡¯s lips curved into an unexpected smile. "Now," he commanded quietly.


    From behind Leon, a massive sphere of concentrated arcane energy materialized¡ªa trap that had been subtly prepared throughout the battle. The geometric structure contained enough power to end the match instantly, its trajectory perfectly aligned with Leon¡¯s position.


    Leon sensed the danger too late, his momentum preventing any possibility of evasion. In that critical moment, Maya threw herself into the construct¡¯s path without hesitation, her body intercepting the full force of the arcane trap. She collapsed instantly, the sacrifice ensuring Leon¡¯s continued advance.


    The noble¡¯s confident expression faltered as he witnessed this unexpected development. His calculations hadn¡¯t accounted for such selfless loyalty, such willingness to sacrifice for a leader.


    "Impossible," Lysander whispered, frantically attempting to construct another defense.


    But Leon was already airborne, his perfectly executed leap carrying him above Lysander¡¯s position. The swordsman descended with unstoppable momentum, his blade positioning for the decisive strike.


    Lysander sighed, recognizing defeat with aristocratic grace. He raised his hands in surrender just as Leon¡¯s sword halted precisely at his throat. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Victory to Team Steelheart!" Lancaster¡¯s voice boomed across the suddenly silent arena. "Leon Steelheart will advance to the championship match against Team Rothschild after a brief intermission!"


    Stunned silence gave way to thunderous applause as spectators processed the unexpected outcome. Commoners erupted in celebration while nobles stared in disbelief. Against all expectations, against all conventional wisdom, the talentless swordsman had defeated one of Avaloria¡¯s most promising nobles of the younger generation.


    In the VIP section, Ambrose Rothschild observed with analytical interest, "Mmh, this might work"

 Chapter 99: The Finals [PART 1]

    The crystalline display board illuminated with the final matchup, bathing the arena in azure light. Ambrose Rothschild and his team rose with practiced composure as their names appeared, creating a ripple of movement that drew every eye in the crowded colosseum. Despite being the tournament¡¯s culminating battle, a curious atmosphere pervaded the stands¡ªnot the electric anticipation one might expect, but rather the resigned acceptance of a foregone conclusion.


    Spectators exchanged knowing glances and half-hearted wagers. Leon Steelheart had captivated the audience with his improbable victory over Lysander Blackvale, a triumph of technique and determination over aristocratic talent. Yet that inspiring narrative seemed destined for an abrupt conclusion. Against Sun Hualing¡ªwhose mere presence had prompted immediate surrenders¡ªwhat hope could any freshman possibly harbor?


    Even Leon himself harbored no illusions as he gazed at the glowing display. The swordsman¡¯s weathered face betrayed no fear, only clear-eyed acceptance of the challenge before him. He squared his shoulders and advanced toward the platform with unwavering strides, his sword hanging comfortably at his hip.


    "We¡¯ve come this far," he murmured to his teammates as they followed behind him. "Let¡¯s give them something to remember."


    His companions nodded with grim determination. Though victory seemed impossible, they would face their fate together, as they had throughout the tournament. Kai¡¯s hand rested on his weapon, Maya¡¯s fingers traced subtle support patterns at her side, and the remaining teammates maintained perfect formation as they approached.


    When both teams had taken their positions on opposite sides of the platform, Professor Lancaster raised his enchanted staff. The crystal tip flared with magical energy as his amplified voice carried across the hushed arena.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at the championship match of our freshman ranking tournament!" he declared, emerald robes billowing slightly with magical resonance. "Team Rothschild versus Team Steelheart¡ªa confrontation that will determine not only our champion but also confer a distinction I¡¯ve yet to reveal."


    Lancaster¡¯s eyes twinkled with theatrical mischief as he surveyed the crowd. "The student whose performance stands most exemplary throughout the tournament shall be appointed Head of the Freshman Class¡ªa position carrying considerable privileges and responsibilities throughout your academic journey! This position can only be assigned once and can¡¯t easily be changed!"


    A wave of surprised murmurs swept through the freshman section. Students leaned toward one another, whispered conversations breaking out across the stands as they processed this unexpected revelation. The senior students, however, merely nodded in knowing confirmation¡ªthis tradition was no surprise to those familiar with the academy¡¯s hierarchy.


    Lancaster cleared his throat pointedly, the sound magically amplified to recapture wandering attention. When suitable silence had been restored, he raised his staff high overhead.


    "Without further delay, I declare the championship match... begun!" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The protective barriers shimmered into existence around the platform, sealing the competitors within. Yet contrary to expectations, neither team launched into immediate action. The platform remained eerily still, both sides seemingly locked in strategic assessment.


    Then, almost imperceptibly at first, movement caught the audience¡¯s attention. A collective gasp rippled through the stands as Ambrose Rothschild¡ªthe meditative strategist who had remained seated throughout previous matches¡ªrose to his feet and began walking toward the platform¡¯s center.


    "What¡¯s happening?" "Is he surrendering?" "Has the Rothschild heir lost his mind?"


    Speculation erupted throughout the arena as Ambrose continued his unhurried advance. His slight frame and calm demeanor created a striking contrast against the backdrop of anticipated combat. Behind him, his team remained in position, Hualing watching with unblinking intensity, her body tensed as if ready to intervene at the slightest indication of threat.


    Leon observed Ambrose¡¯s approach with visible confusion. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he seemingly interpreted this as a leader¡¯s parley and began his own advance to the center. His posture remained guarded, suspicion evident in his measured steps.


    When the two leaders converged at the platform¡¯s center, the audience fell into hushed silence, straining to catch any fragment of their exchange.


    "What do you want?" Leon asked without preamble, his tone direct but not disrespectful. Though lacking aristocratic polish, his speech carried the straightforward dignity of someone who had earned his position through merit rather than birth.


    Ambrose showed no reaction to Leon¡¯s blunt address. Instead, a thoughtful smile curved his lips as he regarded the swordsman. Under that penetrating gaze, Leon shifted uncomfortably, struck by the unsettling sensation of being thoroughly analyzed¡ªas if Ambrose could see through flesh and bone to the very core of his being.


    "How about we switch up some things?" Ambrose suggested, his voice carrying the cultured cadence of nobility but none of the typical condescension.


    Leon¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"


    "Instead of fighting as a team, which might cause unexpected injuries," Ambrose elaborated with casual precision, "why don¡¯t you have a duel against my teammate to determine the winner?"


    Wariness flickered across Leon¡¯s features as he parsed Ambrose¡¯s words. Was this a veiled threat? A suggestion that refusing would result in their deliberate harm? Yet pragmatism quickly asserted itself in his calculation. His team had already endured a grueling semifinal against Lysander¡ªthey were exhausted, not just physically but also mentaly. A single duel might actually favor them.


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    His gaze shifted past Ambrose to where Hualing stood with predatory stillness. Leon squared his shoulders, determination hardening his expression.


    "Sure, tell her to bring it on," he declared with hard-won confidence.


    To his surprise, Ambrose shook his head. "No, you misunderstood." He turned slightly, gesturing toward his team. "You¡¯ll be facing him, he¡¯s our team¡¯s swordsman."


    Marcus Turner detached himself from the group, approaching with measured strides. The way he moved spoke volumes to Leon¡¯s experienced eye¡ªthe balanced footwork, the natural hand position ready for a draw, the controlled economy of motion. Leon could tell that he wasnt just a kid with a sword cosplaying as a swordsman, but rather a proper swordman.


    Yet compared to the overwhelming dread Hualing inspired, this opponent seemed... manageable. A genuine smile spread across Leon¡¯s face as understanding dawned. What he had anticipated as a hopeless slaughter might instead become a true test of skill¡ªswordsman against swordsman, technique against technique. If it was really a battle of pure swordsmanship, Leon didnt believe he¡¯d lose to anyone, at least not in their freshman year group.


    For the first time since the matchup had been announced, Leon felt a genuine spark of possibility ignite within his chest.

 Chapter 100: The Finals [PART 2]

    The two swordsmen faced each other in the center of the platform, a respectful distance between them. The arena fell silent as they prepared for their formal introduction.


    "Marcus Turner," the regressor announced with a slight bow, his voice carrying the weight of experiences beyond his apparent years.


    "Leon Steelheart," came the reply as Leon reciprocated the gesture, his movements displaying the practiced precision of someone who had dedicated his life to the blade.


    With the introductions complete, Ambrose backed away with unhurried steps, leaving the two warriors to establish their positions. Both swordsmen widened their stance, hands hovering near their weapon hilts, fingers relaxed yet ready. The tension between them was palpable, a silent communication between kindred spirits who recognized in each other a worthy opponent.


    Lancaster¡¯s voice boomed across the arena: "Ladies and gentlemen, in an unexpected turn of events, both teams have agreed to determine the championship through a duel of swordsmanship!"


    The announcement triggered an eruption of cheers and excited conversation. What had seemed a predetermined outcome suddenly transformed into something far more compelling¡ªa pure test of skill between two distinguished bladesmen. Noble and commoner alike leaned forward in their seats, rivalries momentarily forgotten in their shared appreciation for martial excellence.


    "Which swordsman will prove superior? The mysterious Marcus Turner or the inspiring Leon Steelheart? The academy shall witness mastery of the blade today!"


    Ambrose reached his customary position at the platform¡¯s edge, settling into his lotus meditation posture with practiced ease. His mind reached out, establishing the telepathic connection that had become his signature during the tournament.


    "~You may begin," his mental voice echoed simultaneously in both combatants¡¯ consciousness.


    In that instant, steel flashed in perfect synchronization as both warriors drew their blades. The metallic ring of swords clearing scabbards merged into a single harmonious note that reverberated across the arena. They launched forward with explosive power, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat, their swords meeting in a clash that sent sparks dancing through the air and the sound of striking steel echoing through the hushed colosseum.


    The final battle had begun.


    ¡­


    Ambrose settled back into his meditative posture, analytical eyes fixed on the platform¡¯s center where Marcus and Leon faced each other. A satisfied smile touched his lips as he observed the two swordsmen begin their dance of steel.


    Finally, Marcus gets his moment to shine, Ambrose thought, realizing how little opportunity the supposed protagonist had received to demonstrate his abilities thus far. He also hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to see Marcus¡¯s improved abilities after the dungeon incident. Although he had a general idea, it wasn¡¯t as good as personally witnessing it. When he had seen that their final opponent would be Leon Steelheart, Ambrose immediately recognized the perfect matchup for Marcus¡ªanother dedicated swordsman whose skills would provide a genuine challenge.


    Despite Leon¡¯s lack of awakened talent, Ambrose¡¯s Mind¡¯s Eye ability had revealed something fascinating about their opponent. Leon¡¯s raw stats nearly matched Marcus¡¯s, making him a remarkably even adversary. Ambrose nodded appreciatively as he continued his observation. Experience more tales on NovelFire.C?m


    Ambrose had little doubt about the ultimate outcome. The laws of narrative progression practically guaranteed that Marcus¡ªa main character archetype if ever there was one¡ªwould triumph, even against an opponent of equal caliber. He said equal caliber as he didnt believe Marcus was the type of person to use mana against an opponent who couldn¡¯t reciprocate. Such restraint aligned perfectly with Marcus¡¯s character.


    The thunderous clash of steel against steel brought Ambrose¡¯s attention back to the duel. Marcus and Leon¡¯s blades met with perfect precision, sparks cascading around them as they tested each other¡¯s strength and technique. True to Ambrose¡¯s prediction, Marcus was relying solely on his physical capabilities, eschewing the mana-based enhancements his Sword Intent talent could provide. This would be a battle of pure swordsmanship.


    On the platform, Marcus struggled against Leon¡¯s powerful strike, their blades locked momentarily before Marcus managed to redirect the force, throwing Leon slightly off-balance. Seizing the opportunity, Marcus created distance between them with a strategic backward step, his eyes never leaving his opponent.


    A subtle smile played across Marcus¡¯s face as he regarded Leon with newfound respect. This encounter carried unexpected significance for him¡ªLeon Steelheart was no stranger in the world Marcus remembered. In his previous life, the name Steelheart had become legendary across the continent.


    The Sword Saint, Marcus recalled, memories flooding back. Leon Steelheart had transcended the limitations of his talentless body through sheer dedication, pushing himself beyond normal human boundaries until he stood among the continent¡¯s most formidable powers. His achievements had made him an inspiration to countless aspiring warriors¡ªMarcus himself included.


    There had been a time when Marcus had looked upon the Sword Saint with undisguised admiration, acknowledging that Leon¡¯s natural affinity for swordsmanship surpassed his own. The bitter irony hadn¡¯t escaped Marcus¡ªthat a man born without talent could ascend to such heights while he, blessed with a Top Level talent, had accomplished so little in comparison.


    This duel represented more than tournament victory for Marcus. It was an opportunity to test himself against the nascent version of a legend, to measure his growth since regression. Deliberately holding back his mana usage, Marcus wanted to discover if his improved skills alone could overcome Leon¡¯s natural genius¡ªeven this younger, less experienced version of the future Sword Saint.


    With renewed determination, Marcus charged forward, dropping into a smooth crouch to avoid Leon¡¯s horizontal slash. In the same fluid motion, he brought his blade upward toward Leon¡¯s exposed neck. The attack was perfectly executed, yet Leon responded with astonishing intuition, twisting away from the lethal edge and immediately countering with his own strike.


    Marcus¡¯s smile widened as he parried the counterattack. Since his regression to this earlier point in his life, nothing had brought him such genuine enjoyment. The pure exchange of technique without politics or ulterior motives felt like a cleansing ritual, washing away the accumulated cynicism of his former existence.


    Across from him, Leon appeared equally invigorated by their exchange. He had recognized Marcus as a skilled swordsman from the tournament¡¯s earlier rounds, but this direct confrontation revealed depths of technique he hadn¡¯t anticipated. More impressive still was Marcus¡¯s deliberate choice to forego his magical advantage, meeting Leon on equal terms. Such honorable conduct commanded respect, and Leon silently vowed to respond in kind by offering nothing less than his absolute best.


    From the sidelines, Leon¡¯s teammates watched with surprised expressions. Their leader¡¯s usual stoic demeanor had given way to something approaching joy¡ªan emotional display they had rarely witnessed. The burden of being talentless in a talent-focused world had long weighed upon Leon, yet here, matched against a worthy opponent who respected his skill enough to meet him as an equal, he appeared liberated.


    Throughout the arena, spectators who had come expecting a quick, one-sided affair found themselves enthralled by the display of martial excellence unfolding before them. Compared to the flashy magical confrontations of earlier matches, this pure contest of steel and skill felt more authentic, more primal¡ªa reminder of combat¡¯s fundamental nature that transcended magical enhancement.


    Marcus narrowly escaped a powerful downward slash, finding himself momentarily vulnerable as he rolled across the platform floor. Leon pressed his advantage immediately, bringing his blade down toward his prone opponent. With lightning reflexes, Marcus completed his roll, the sword striking empty stone where he had been a heartbeat earlier.


    Rising to a defensive stance, Marcus met Leon¡¯s evaluating gaze. "You¡¯re quite good," Leon acknowledged, genuine respect evident in his voice. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You¡¯re not so bad yourself," Marcus returned with equal sincerity, before both warriors simultaneously charged forward to continue their dance.


    Their blades met with tremendous force, the impact driving both combatants backward several feet. Neither lost their balance, each regaining their footing with practiced ease before charging forth once more.


    This time, Leon sidestepped Marcus¡¯s thrust with fluid grace, pivoting to deliver a horizontal slash. Marcus avoided decapitation by mere inches, bending backward just enough for the blade to pass harmlessly overhead. In that moment of apparent advantage, Leon executed a brilliant feint¡ªdeliberately dropping his sword, only to catch it with his opposite hand in a seamless motion that completely disrupted Marcus¡¯s defensive calculations.


    The unexpected maneuver caught Marcus off-guard. Although he managed to shift his body to avoid a mortal wound, Leon¡¯s blade found its mark, drawing a thin line of crimson across his shoulder. Channeling pain into focus, Marcus delivered a powerful kick to create separation, buying precious moments to reassess his approach.


    As Marcus touched his wound, a realization crystallized in his mind. The current Leon, talented though he might be, remained a shadow of the Sword Saint Marcus remembered. His techniques, while impressive, lacked the refinement and deadly precision of his future self. With newfound confidence, Marcus smiled and prepared for his decisive assault.


    Charging forward with controlled aggression, Marcus initiated a complex sequence of strikes designed to test Leon¡¯s adaptability. He began with a standard overhead slash that Leon easily parried, but immediately transitioned into a deceptive feint targeting Leon¡¯s left side. When Leon moved to defend, Marcus reversed his blade¡¯s momentum with frightening speed, executing a perfect pivot that brought his sword arcing toward Leon¡¯s exposed right flank.


    Leon barely deflected the strike, his balance compromised by the unexpected direction. Capitalizing on this momentary instability, Marcus executed a lightning-fast pommel strike to Leon¡¯s sword hand, simultaneously sweeping his opponent¡¯s legs with a low kick. As Leon began to fall, Marcus completed his combination by catching Leon¡¯s descending blade with his own, using the leverage to direct both weapons safely away from their bodies.


    The maneuver ended with Leon flat on his back, Marcus¡¯s knee firmly planted on his chest and the edge of his training sword resting against Leon¡¯s throat¡ªa position from which no recovery was possible.


    A genuine smile spread across Leon¡¯s face as he lay pinned against the platform. "I lose," he declared without hesitation or bitterness, his voice carrying clearly across the suddenly silent arena.


    "Victory to Team Rothschild!" Lancaster¡¯s announcement broke the spell, unleashing a thunderous ovation that shook the very foundations of the colosseum. The spectators rose to their feet in unanimous appreciation for the display of martial excellence they had witnessed.


    Marcus withdrew his blade and extended his hand, helping Leon to his feet with a comradely grip. "Let¡¯s fight again sometime," he offered, genuine respect evident in his tone.


    Leon nodded, clasping Marcus¡¯s forearm in the traditional warrior¡¯s acknowledgment. Without further words, he rejoined his waiting teammates, his posture betraying neither shame nor regret¡ªonly the quiet determination of someone who had discovered new heights to aspire toward.


    As Marcus watched Leon¡¯s retreating form, he felt a curious mixture of satisfaction and nostalgia. In defeating the younger version of his former idol, he had proven his growth since regression. Yet rather than diminishing Leon¡¯s legend in his eyes, the encounter had only deepened his respect for the future Sword Saint¡ªknowing firsthand the solid foundation upon which that legendary skill would be built.

 Chapter 101: Finally Over

    The tournament concluded with an air of finality as Professor Lancaster took the stage once more. His emerald robes swayed gently as he cleared his throat, the magical amplification carrying his voice to every corner of the vast arena.


    "After careful deliberation, I am pleased to announce our tournament rankings," he declared, his silver-streaked beard catching the afternoon light. "In first place, Team Rothschild led by Ambrose Rothschild. In second place, Team Steelheart led by Leon Steelheart. And securing third place, Team Blackvale led by Lysander Blackvale."


    The announcement, though expected, still sent ripples of excitement through the crowd. Lancaster gestured toward the platform with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "Would the team leaders please approach the stage to receive their medals?"


    As the three leaders advanced toward the platform, the crowd¡¯s murmurs intensified when Principal Cassandra Blackvale herself emerged from the shadows. Her presence commanded immediate attention¡ªthis was her first appearance at the tournament, or any other freshman ranking tournament for that matter. Her flame-red hair cascaded past her shoulders as she approached with regal bearing, a wooden box containing the medals held carefully in her hands.


    With ceremonial precision, she placed the golden medallion around Ambrose¡¯s neck. The young heir immediately removed it, slipping it into his spatial storage ring with smooth efficiency. The principal¡¯s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly at this breach of protocol, but Ambrose paid it no mind. The heavy gold medallion would have strained his fragile constitution if kept for too long.


    Leon accepted his silver medal with quiet dignity, his weathered hands turning it over with careful examination. His eyes reflected not disappointment at second place, but determination¡ªeach achievement bringing him one step closer to his goal.


    Lysander¡¯s reception of the bronze medal was markedly different. His fingers closed around it with surprising force, his knuckles whitening as he clutched the symbol of his perceived failure. His gaze darted between his fellow recipients¡ªfirst to Ambrose, acknowledging the impossibility of victory against Hualing¡¯s overwhelming power, then to Leon, bitter confusion evident as he questioned how a noble heir with Legendary talent could fall to a talentless commoner. The medal in his hand seemed to mock his family name as he imagined his father¡¯s disappointment.


    Lancaster stepped forward once more, his voice cutting through the contemplative silence. "And now, the moment you¡¯ve all been waiting for¡ªthe appointment of the Head of the Freshman Class, a position of considerable influence that will likely extend throughout your academic journey."


    Some students rolled their eyes, what was with all the hype, didn¡¯t everyone already know whom it was going to be?


    "After careful consideration," Lancaster announced with dramatic pause, "the position of Head of the Freshman Class goes to... Leon Steelheart!"


    Gasps erupted throughout the arena. Even Leon himself appeared momentarily stunned, his normally composed features displaying uncharacteristic surprise. Ambrose just observed the reactions, having anticipated this exact outcome, after all, the most performing student was definitely Hualing. But when Hualing was told earlier that she was going to be the head of the freshman year group, she had instantly declined the position; if she became the head, that would mean that she would have more responsibilities and thus less time to protect her master. Ambrose could only ask the instructor to find another candidate as Hualing refused to budge.


    As murmurs of confusion and protest began to swell, Lancaster raised his hands for silence. "I understand your surprise," he acknowledged. "To address the questions I see forming, I should clarify that Sun Hualing was our first choice for this position."


    This revelation sent another wave of whispers cascading through the audience.


    "However," Lancaster continued, "she declined the honor, citing her responsibilities to the Rothschild heir as taking precedence. Therefore, the position was offered to our next most qualified candidate."


    The explanation seemed to placate most of the audience. Logic gradually reasserted itself in their evaluation¡ªLeon had indeed demonstrated exceptional leadership, technical mastery, and unimpeachable character throughout the tournament. With Hualing¡¯s withdrawal, his appointment followed natural order.


    Still, pockets of dissatisfaction remained visible among certain noble students, their disapproving expressions betraying entrenched biases. Yet even they recognized the finality of the decision¡ªthe academy¡¯s ruling stood regardless of personal sentiment.


    Throughout the stands, students began dissecting Hualing¡¯s unexpected refusal. "Can you believe she turned down the year head position?" one student whispered. "That¡¯s almost equivalent to the student council presidency in terms of influence."


    "Makes sense though," another replied. "As the Rothschild heir¡¯s personal guardian, what could the position possibly offer her? The resources probably pale in comparison to what she already has access to."


    Lancaster¡¯s voice rose once more above the discussions. "This concludes our tournament. You are all dismissed¡ª" He paused suddenly, a look of realization crossing his features. "Ah! I nearly forgot. Would the leader of the winning team please remain behind to receive your special reward?"


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    Ambrose strolled leisurely back to his estate, the weight of the Archmage¡¯s Medallion substantial in his palm as he examined it. The afternoon light caught its polished surface, sending golden reflections dancing across his face. His conversation with Professor Lancaster lingered in his mind.


    Lancaster was technically his first cousin once removed, though "uncle" seemed the more practical term. Their conversation had been brief but unexpectedly warm, with Lancaster offering insights about the academy¡¯s inner workings that Ambrose had not yet uncovered through his own investigations.


    "Watch out for Professor Jonathan," Lancaster had warned. "He holds grudges against those who embarrass him publicly. Though I doubt he has the courage to act against you, its always better to be prepared" Other nuggets of wisdom followed¡ªwhich staff members could be trusted, which corridors were best avoided after curfew, and subtle political alignments among the faculty that might impact a student¡¯s academic journey.


    A gentle smile curved Ambrose¡¯s lips as he contemplated this newfound connection. "They say having an elder in a house is like a treasure, or how did it go?"


    His attention returned to the medallion in his hand. Despite its grand name, the Archmage¡¯s Medallion wasn¡¯t some powerful magical artifact¡ªmerely an access token for the academy¡¯s restricted archives, areas typically reserved for third-year students and above. Yet to Ambrose, this simple permission slip held greater value than any enchanted treasure might have.


    As an intelligence-focused individual, his advancement depended primarily on his mind¡¯s development rather than physical training or magical aptitude. The restricted section would contain advanced theoretical works, experimental research journals, and possibly even forbidden knowledge that could accelerate his understanding exponentially.


    Though his system allowed for direct intelligence stat increases through point allocation, he currently possessed none to spend. The last increase had come when he unlocked the new title "One who gazes," and such occurrences seemed rare rather than reliable. He understood that leveling up would likely award stat points, but the exact mechanism remained frustratingly elusive.


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    "The chicken experiment was rather disappointing," he thought with wry amusement, recalling how he had instructed Hualing to hold domestic fowl while he dispatched them, hoping to gain experience points. The birds had died, but his experience bar remained stubbornly empty. "Perhaps I need to personally hunt wild creatures? Or maybe combat experience specifically is required?"


    But with his condition, how could he hunt monsters by himself?


    "So books remain my most viable option," he concluded pragmatically. Through careful study and research, he might stimulate his intelligence growth naturally, following the traditional advancement path of other intelligence and support types in this world.

 Chapter 102: The Library

    The droning voice of Professor Elaine echoed through the high-ceilinged classroom, her words bouncing off ancient stone walls adorned with faded tapestries depicting historical battles. "...in the last war. The First Hero Rothschild and the Fox Clan Princess Xiao Yue..."


    Ambrose¡¯s gaze drifted away from the lecture to study the professor herself¡ªher enthusiastic gestures, the way she occasionally adjusted her spectacles when making an important point. He sighed inwardly, a peculiar melancholy settling over him. Back on Earth, confined to his hospital bed, he had romanticized the idea of attending school like other children. The reality proved far less magical than his imagination had painted it.


    Is this what I yearned for all those years? he wondered, absently tracing the edge of his desk with a finger. Listening to information I already know, surrounded by people who barely comprehend it?


    Subtlety, he withdrew a leather-bound tome from his spatial ring¡ªa second-year treatise on advanced magical theory. The weight of it felt reassuring in his hands as he carefully turned to his bookmark. With his [Perfect Recall] skill, he could recite the professor¡¯s entire lecture verbatim, rendering her ongoing explanations redundant. His memory needed no refreshing; each fact lay crystallized in his mind with perfect clarity.


    Beside him, Hualing¡¯s struggle was evident. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at her notes, then at the professor, then back at her half-empty page. After a valiant but brief effort, she set down her pen with a defeated sigh. Abandoning all pretense of academic interest, she turned to study Ambrose¡¯s profile instead, her eyes tracing the contours of his face with undisguised fascination.


    Ambrose sensed her attention like a physical touch but chose to ignore it, immersing himself deeper in his reading.


    On his other side sat Adelaide, the picture of scholarly dedication. Her quill moved across parchment with practiced efficiency, capturing key points in her elegant handwriting. Unlike their companions, she seemed genuinely invested in the lecture, her posture alert and engaged.


    Marcus sat a row ahead, physically present but mentally elsewhere. His eyes held the distant look of someone revisiting memories or perhaps planning for futures only he could see. Meihua, meanwhile, had given up any pretense of attention, her calculating gaze slowly cataloging every student in the room as if gathering intelligence for future use.


    The five of them formed an island of contrast within the classroom¡ªonly Adelaide actually learning, the rest occupied with their private worlds.


    When the bell finally rang, its melodious chime signaling blessed freedom, Ambrose didn¡¯t hesitate. He activated [Blink] instantly, his form shimmering momentarily before vanishing from his seat and reappearing just outside the classroom door in a faint displacement of air.


    Professor Elaine caught the flash of his departure, her mouth twitching in mild offense. Was my class truly that unbearable? her expression seemed to say. I haven¡¯t even dismissed you yet.


    Ambrose paid no mind to her silent reproach. With another application of [Blink], he transported himself further down the corridor, putting substantial distance between himself and any pursuing companions. Each teleportation drained his mental energy reserves considerably, but freedom warranted the cost.


    He needed solitude for what came next. Hualing¡¯s constant presence, while occasionally useful, had begun to isolate their entire group from the academy¡¯s social ecosystem. Students tensed visibly whenever they approached, conversations dying mid-sentence. For his companions¡¯ sake as much as his own, some distance was necessary.


    But his primary motivation lay elsewhere¡ªthe academy library beckoned with its secrets. From countless novels he¡¯d read, Ambrose knew such places often concealed hidden knowledge, magical tomes disguised as ordinary books, or concealed passages leading to forgotten archives. If there really was something like that, he might not be able to trigger it if he went with someone else, seeing as his group was almost all main characters, they might trigger the chance before he did.


    If there are treasures to be found, he thought as he navigated the winding corridors toward the library¡¯s imposing oak doors, I¡¯d have a better chance of finding them alone.


    ¡­


    Ambrose stepped through the heavy oak doors of the library, a satisfied smile playing across his lips as he entered the hallowed repository of knowledge. The vast chamber stretched before him, its vaulted ceiling disappearing into shadows high above where magical orbs cast a gentle, golden light over the countless shelves. The air carried the unmistakable scent of aged parchment, leather bindings, and the faint trace of preservative enchantments.


    Few students occupied the reading tables scattered throughout the main floor, but those present exhibited the intense concentration of scholars with clear purpose. Not one head lifted at the sound of his entrance¡ªquills continued scratching against parchment, pages turned with careful precision, and brows remained furrowed in concentration. These weren¡¯t casual browsers but dedicated researchers, each lost in their personal academic quests.


    Ambrose moved past them with deliberate steps, his footfalls muffled by the thick carpet specifically designed to absorb sound. He made his way toward the far wall where a curious contraption stood¡ªnot quite an elevator in the modern Earth sense, but the academy¡¯s magical equivalent. A carved wooden platform enclosed by ornate lattice screens, powered by levitation enchantments rather than cables and counterweights.


    Stepping inside, Ambrose pressed one of the gleaming crystal buttons embedded in the control panel, recalling his uncle Lancaster¡¯s careful instructions for accessing the restricted archives. The lattice doors slid closed with barely a whisper, and the platform began to move. Without his enhanced perception and [Spatial Awareness], Ambrose might never have detected the motion¡ªthe enchantments eliminated all sensation of movement, creating the illusion of perfect stillness while the library proper receded above them.


    That¡¯s right, they were moving down, not up. With his Spatial Awareness, he could easily tell this despite the stillness.


    When the doors reopened, Ambrose found himself in a dramatically different environment. The sprawling underground chamber matched the main library in size but surpassed it in grandeur. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, some requiring floating platforms to access their uppermost shelves. Crystal chandeliers imbued with eternal light spells cast a warm illumination across reading tables crafted from polished ebony.


    The few students present here carried themselves with even greater intensity than those above. Most appeared older, their expressions carrying the weight of impending graduation exams. Some had surrounded themselves with teetering stacks of reference materials; others traced complex magical formulas in glowing script that hovered in the air before them.


    Ambrose stood momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer volume of knowledge surrounding him. Books stretched in every direction¡ªancient tomes bound in materials he couldn¡¯t immediately identify, scrolls sealed with wax bearing family crests of long-extinct noble houses, and crystal memory orbs containing the recorded thoughts of masters long dead.


    Where does one even begin? he wondered, experiencing the peculiar paralysis of excessive choice.


    "How did you get in here?"


    The question interrupted his deliberation. Ambrose looked down¡ªa necessary adjustment given his own modest height¡ªto find an even smaller figure glaring up at him with suspicious eyes.


    The boy barely reached Ambrose¡¯s chest, with delicate features framed by meticulously combed chestnut hair. Despite his diminutive stature, he carried himself with unmistakable authority, hands planted firmly on his hips as he awaited an answer.


    "Are you listening?" the boy pressed, his voice carrying the crisp diction of aristocratic education despite its youthful pitch.


    Ambrose couldn¡¯t help himself. He smiled indulgently and reached out to pat the boy¡¯s head, the gesture automatically triggered by the child-like appearance before him. "Who let a kid in here?" he mused aloud.


    The boy¡¯s face flushed with indignation as he swatted Ambrose¡¯s hand away. "Who are you calling a kid?" he demanded, jabbing a finger toward his own chest. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Only then did Ambrose notice the distinctive markings on the boy¡¯s uniform¡ªthe double silver stripes and emblazoned crest that designated a second-year student. Ambrose blinked in surprise, reassessing the figure before him. Through his enhanced perception, he could discern that the boy couldn¡¯t possibly be older than fifteen¡ªexceptionally young for a second-year student at Crono Academy.


    A prodigy, Ambrose realized. The type of genius others whisper about.


    "I asked you how you got in here," the boy repeated with mounting impatience. "Only third-years and above are allowed."


    Ambrose allowed himself a playful smile. "The same way you did," he replied cryptically.


    The boy¡¯s face brightened with sudden interest. "You mean..." he began eagerly.


    "Yes," Ambrose interrupted with perfect timing, "I also got here by walking."


    The boy¡¯s expression soured instantly, his lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval.


    "I¡¯m joking," Ambrose chuckled, reaching into his pocket to produce the Archmage¡¯s Medallion. The golden disk caught the light as he held it up, its intricate engravings and embedded crystals marking it as one of the academy¡¯s most coveted privileges.


    The medallion¡¯s appearance caused a brief ripple of attention through the chamber. Several senior students glanced up from their studies, eyebrows raising in surprise before they returned to their work with renewed concentration.


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    Ambrose tucked the medallion away quickly, not wanting to draw further attention. "I¡¯m guessing you have something similar?" he inquired, genuinely curious about how a second-year had gained access to this restricted space. And such a young one at that.


    His curiosity peaked, Ambrose activated his [Mind¡¯s Eye] skill, focusing on the young student before him:


    [Name: Elias Thornbrook]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Creator¡¯s Blueprint (Mythical)]


    [Health: 500/500]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 5]


    [Stamina: 5]


    [Agility: 5]

 Chapter 103: The Genius Elias

    Elias Thornbrook stood apart from his peers in every conceivable way. Recognized as a prodigious magical engineer with his Mythical-ranked Creator¡¯s Blueprint talent, he had accomplished what few students in Crono Academy¡¯s illustrious history had managed¡ªskipping the first year entirely after just a single term. His aptitude for magical theory and practical application had left his professors speechless, prompting an unprecedented advancement in his academic track.


    In truth, if only he had been a year older, the academy would have allowed him to skip directly to the third year. However, due to long-established restrictions prohibiting students under fifteen¡ªthe kingdom¡¯s age of adulthood¡ªfrom entering third-year studies, his advancement had reached a temporary ceiling. The administration, unwilling to let such extraordinary talent stagnate, had instead bestowed upon him the Archmage¡¯s Medallion, granting access to study materials typically reserved for students years his senior.


    The restricted archives had quickly become Elias¡¯s sanctuary. Among the towering shelves of ancient tomes and crystallized knowledge, he found challenges worthy of his intellect. Since he was both the youngest and most junior person granted regular access to this hallowed space, the head librarian had bestowed upon him the unofficial responsibility of monitoring the archives during his frequent visits¡ªa task Elias took surprisingly seriously despite his tender age.


    Today, as he wandered between the imposing ebony shelves, fingers trailing along leather spines in search of his next intellectual conquest, something unusual caught his attention¡ªa figure in a first-year uniform. The sight was so unexpected that Elias momentarily questioned his own perception. First-years simply didn¡¯t appear in the restricted archives; it was a fundamental rule of academy hierarchy.


    Curiosity piqued, Elias approached the stranger with the natural confidence of someone who belonged in this exclusive space. Despite his diminutive stature¡ªstanding barely chest-high to most older students¡ªhe carried himself with the authority granted by his position and accomplishments.


    "How did you get in here?" he inquired, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. When the stranger seemed distracted, Elias pressed more insistently, "Are you listening?"


    To his immense irritation, the first-year had the audacity to smile indulgently and¡ªmost infuriatingly¡ªpat him on the head as if he were a child. "Who let a kid in here?" the stranger mused aloud.


    Heat rushed to Elias¡¯s face as he swatted away the offending hand. "Who are you calling a kid?" he demanded, jabbing a finger toward his own chest where the double silver stripes of a second-year student were clearly visible on his uniform.


    The stranger blinked in apparent surprise, reassessing him with newfound interest. After some banter, the first-year produced the Archmage¡¯s Medallion, its golden surface catching the light from the crystal chandeliers overhead. Elias stared at the artifact with dawning comprehension as pieces clicked into place within his brilliant mind. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The medallion would have been awarded to the most exceptional team during the freshman ranking competition¡ªan event Elias had been too engrossed in his studies to attend. He hadn¡¯t bothered to follow the tournament results, considering such competitions beneath his scholarly pursuits.


    Even so, Elias regarded the first-year with lingering suspicion. The Archmage¡¯s Medallion, while prestigious, typically held little practical value for first-years. Most recipients barely utilized its privileges until they had mastered the fundamentals of first and second-year curriculum¡ªby which time they would naturally advance to third year, rendering the medallion¡¯s special access redundant.


    Yet here stood someone clearly intent on making immediate use of his prize. As Elias studied the stranger more carefully, fragments of overheard conversations and whispered rumors crystallized into recognition.


    "Ambrose?" he wondered aloud, the name escaping his lips before he could contain it.1


    The first-year¡¯s smile widened slightly. "Yes, that¡¯s me," he confirmed with unexpected warmth. Enjoy more content from NovelFire.C?m


    Ambrose Rothschild appeared genuinely excited by their chance encounter. Though he couldn¡¯t know it, Ambrose was mentally cataloging Elias as an unexpected treasure¡ªa prodigious talent with a Mythical-grade ability that complemented his own ambitious plans perfectly.


    In fact, Ambrose knew of Elias, at least peripherally. During his bedridden days, he had been treated by Dr. Archibald Thornbrook, Elias¡¯s father. The elder Thornbrook¡¯s reputation as a brilliant researcher and healer had left a lasting impression, and Ambrose suspected the son might surpass even his accomplished father in the future.


    A glimmer of calculation flashed behind Ambrose¡¯s eyes as he contemplated potential recruitment. A magical engineer of Elias¡¯s caliber was exceedingly rare. Combined with Ambrose¡¯s knowledge from Earth, they could potentially create revolutionary magical technology¡ªperhaps even weapons. Such collaboration could form the foundation of an entire business empire.


    Ambrose made a mental note that even if direct recruitment proved impossible, he would mention Elias to Adelaide. Her business acumen could forge a collaboration with their fledgling company. After all, the universal weakness of all researchers was funding¡ªif he could finance a few promising projects for the boy, the potential returns could be astronomical.


    Meanwhile, Elias shifted uncomfortably under Ambrose¡¯s calculating gaze. He hadn¡¯t expected to encounter the Rothschild heir himself¡ªa figure whose family name carried weight even among the academy¡¯s elite. Had his brusque approach caused offense? Would Ambrose hold his initial rudeness against him? Most concerning of all, why was the Rothschild heir regarding him with such intensity¡ªlike a predator sizing up particularly appetizing prey?


    ¡­


    Under the sprawling branches of an ancient oak in Crono Academy¡¯s eastern gardens, three young women gathered in a small circle¡ªAdelaide¡¯s auburn hair catching the dappled sunlight, Meihua¡¯s calculating gaze scanning their surroundings, and Hualing¡¯s dejected form slouched against the tree trunk. The scattered golden leaves around them rustled with each passing breeze, nature¡¯s quiet accompaniment to their conversation.


    "Here, try one of these," Adelaide offered, extending a small basket of honey-glazed pastries toward Hualing. "They¡¯re from that new bakery near the western gate."


    Hualing accepted the treat with visible reluctance, her usual attentiveness dulled by a cloud of gloom. She nibbled at the edges without enthusiasm, her eyes repeatedly drifting toward the library building visible through the treetops.


    "You should cheer up," Adelaide continued, her voice gentle yet firm. "The master didn¡¯t leave because he finds you annoying. He¡¯s simply concerned about your well-being and wants you to enjoy some time with friends."


    "But what if he needs protection?" Hualing protested, straightening slightly as protective instincts momentarily overrode her melancholy.


    Meihua adjusted her position, leaning forward with a carefully crafted expression of casual interest. "I¡¯ve been thinking¡ªwhy don¡¯t we all take a brief excursion outside the academy grounds? There¡¯s a fascinating market in the town square today."


    "That¡¯s an excellent idea," Adelaide agreed immediately, her merchant¡¯s instincts recognizing an opportunity for both business intelligence and social bonding. "Hualing, what do you think? We could all use some fresh air and new scenery."


    Hualing¡¯s brow furrowed with indecision, her gaze once again returning to the distant library. "But when the master returns..."


    "We¡¯ll be back well before he finishes his research," Adelaide assured her, resting a companionable hand on Hualing¡¯s shoulder. "He mentioned he¡¯d be occupied for hours, remember?"


    After several seconds of visible internal struggle, Hualing gave a short nod. "Very well. But at the first sign of trouble¡ª"


    "We return immediately," Adelaide finished for her with an understanding smile.


    Behind her carefully neutral expression, Meihua¡¯s thoughts raced with satisfaction. Her suggestion had been far from altruistic¡ªshe had been seeking an opportunity to retrieve a specific item from town, but lacked the physical capability to ensure its successful acquisition. With Hualing¡¯s strength at her disposal, however, her chances improved dramatically.


    Perfect, she thought, mentally reviewing the steps of her plan. Absolutely perfect.


    A sudden chill ran down Hualing¡¯s spine, causing her to sneeze unexpectedly. Her companions glanced at her with mild concern.


    "Someone must be thinking of me," Hualing thought, her mood improving instantly. "It must be the master! He misses me already."


    Within their shared consciousness, Minghua could only sigh in exasperation. You really are a lost cause, she thought.


    Yet beneath this surface reaction, Minghua¡¯s thoughts took a more serious turn. "I should also start making my move soon"


    A/N - Ik it¡¯s considered rude to call someone by their first name like this if you don¡¯t know each other, but the name Rothschild is also the name of the first hero so¡­

 Chapter 104: Scholar I

    Ambrose noticed Elias¡¯s unsettled expression, realizing that his calculating gaze had likely unsettled the young prodigy. Quickly straightening his posture, he cleared his throat to dispel the awkward atmosphere.


    "Ahem, I¡¯m new here," Ambrose offered with a disarming smile. "Can you recommend some books?"


    This approach seemed wiser than immediate recruitment. Building rapport first would serve his purposes better¡ªthey were both junior students, after all, which provided common ground. If they shared intellectual interests, perhaps Elias would lower his guard and see their potential compatibility as collaborators.


    Elias hesitated momentarily, suspicion still evident in his posture, but the request appealed directly to his scholarly pride. Few things pleased a genius more than the opportunity to demonstrate expertise in their domain.


    "Well," he began, warming to the task despite himself, "that depends on what you¡¯re looking for. The restricted archives are organized by discipline rather than alphabetically."


    The boy led Ambrose through towering shelves, his earlier wariness gradually replaced by genuine enthusiasm as he pointed out notable texts. His diminutive stature seemed forgotten as he adopted the authoritative manner of a seasoned archivist.


    "This section contains theoretical works on mana manipulation," Elias explained, gesturing toward shelves of leather-bound tomes with faintly glowing spines. "That volume there¡ªPrinciples of Ethereal Condensation by Archmage Vortimer¡ªrevolutionized our understanding of mana crystallization techniques. Most modern enchantment methods derive from his work."


    They moved deeper into the labyrinthine stacks, Elias growing increasingly animated with each recommendation.


    "Here we have Spatial Dynamics and Their Applications by Victoria Rothschild herself," he noted, pointing to an elegant black tome embossed with silver constellations. "Your mother¡¯s work on pocket dimensions remains unparalleled, even decades later. The mathematics alone would challenge most third-years."


    Ambrose nodded appreciatively, filing away the location of his mother¡¯s research for later examination. Although he already had the scriptures she had sampled for him, they were just a few basic spells and didn¡¯t give him much understanding of space.


    Their tour continued through sections devoted to combat magic, healing arts, and historical treatises. Elias seemed to possess encyclopedic knowledge of the archives¡¯ contents, offering concise assessments of each work¡¯s significance with remarkable precision.


    "The Art of Combat by Celestia Lancaster¡ªthe War Goddess herself," Elias indicated a weathered manuscript bound in what appeared to be dragonhide. "Not merely tactical theory, but a philosophical examination of conflict resolution through both magical and physical means. Quite rare, as she only produced fifty copies before..." He trailed off, perhaps remembering he was speaking to Celestia¡¯s grandson.


    They passed shelves containing works on alchemy, beast taming, divination, and countless other magical disciplines. Elias identified key texts in each area with practiced ease: Elemental Equilibrium by Sage Riverspell, Mindcraft: Advanced Techniques in Telepathic Communication by Lord Whisperbane, Transmutation¡¯s Fundamental Paradoxes by Master Alloy.


    After nearly an hour of scholarly exploration, Ambrose had compiled a substantial selection of texts spanning various disciplines. Elias, seemingly satisfied with his guidance, returned to his duties after offering a final recommendation:


    "If you have questions about anything else, I¡¯ll be cataloging new acquisitions near the eastern alcove. The academy recently obtained several intriguing manuscripts from the imperial borderlands¡ªpotentially containing previously undocumented casting techniques."


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    With that, the young librarian departed, considerably more relaxed than when they¡¯d first encountered each other. Ambrose had successfully established a foundation for future interaction¡ªplanting seeds of connection that might later bloom into collaboration.


    Selecting an isolated table in a quiet corner, Ambrose arranged his chosen volumes in methodical stacks. Rather than reading traditionally, he activated his [Spatial Awareness] skill, confining it to an extremely limited range that encompassed only the book before him. Through this technique, he became instantly aware of every word, diagram, and notation contained within its pages.


    His extraordinary mental calculation speed transformed this awareness into comprehension, mapping each book¡¯s contents directly into his mind¡¯s library with remarkable efficiency. Though this method consumed mental power at a significant rate, the trade-off in speed proved worthwhile. Within a single hour, he had absorbed the contents of over a hundred scholarly works.


    As he closed the hundredth volume, shimmering notifications materialized before him:


    [Your persistent pursuit of knowledge has expanded your mental capabilities]


    [Intelligence increased by 1]


    [Intelligence increased by 1]


    [Intelligence increased by 1] * 3


    [Congratulations! You have successfully read and comprehended 100 unique scholarly works! Your dedication to the pursuit of knowledge has been recognized.]


    [Title Acquired: Scholar I]


    [Effects: +5 Intelligence, +10% Comprehension Speed when reading academic texts]


    Ambrose observed the notifications with measured satisfaction. He had gained five raw intelligence points from the reading itself, plus an additional five from the newly acquired title¡ªten points total, bringing his intelligence to 135. Based on previous patterns, he suspected a significant change might occur at 150 or perhaps 200 intelligence. Such an advancement would require continued dedication to his studies.


    Renewed determination fueled his efforts as he returned to his methodical consumption of knowledge. Hours passed as he absorbed another two hundred books, but no further notifications appeared. Ambrose sighed, realizing the system wouldn¡¯t allow such straightforward stat farming¡ªhe should have anticipated that the rewards would diminish with repetition.


    His attention shifted to the "Scholar I" title. Perhaps it would evolve to Scholar II after reading a thousand books, potentially granting additional stat points. But following that logic, subsequent advancements might require exponentially more reading¡ªten thousand books or more for further evolution. A worthwhile pursuit for the future, but not his immediate priority.


    He reminded himself of his original purpose in visiting the restricted archives¡ªfinding a book containing an inheritance or hidden knowledge that might accelerate his development. The standardized academic texts, while valuable, weren¡¯t his primary target.


    Without further delay, Ambrose expanded his [Spatial Awareness] dramatically, extending its reach throughout the entire library. The mental strain increased substantially as his consciousness mapped thousands of volumes simultaneously, searching for anything unusual¡ªtexts with concealed enchantments, books radiating unusual mana signatures, or manuscripts with hidden compartments.


    And then, amid the overwhelming flood of information, something extraordinary caught his attention. "That¡¯s..." his eyes widened as his mind registered what he had just come across. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 105 105: It’s A Library

    Ambrose expanded his spatial awareness to its maximum capacity, pushing the boundaries of his ability until it encompassed the entire restricted archives. The mental strain was considerable, like stretching a muscle far beyond its intended limit, but the young Rothschild heir paid little heed to the building pressure behind his temples. His consciousness mapped every tome, manuscript, and scroll within the vast library space as he methodically searched for anything extraordinary¡ªbooks with unusual auras, texts radiating distinctive magical signatures, or volumes containing hidden enchantments.


    Time slipped by as his mental net cast wider and deeper. Disappointment began to settle into his thoughts as each shelf yielded nothing special. Had he overestimated the library''s significance? Were the restricted archives merely a collection of advanced but ultimately mundane texts?


    Just as his resolve began to waver, something peculiar caught his attention. His spatial awareness, which had naturally extended downward, encountered an anomaly¡ªa void where solid earth should have been. Ambrose''s eyes widened as the realization crystallized in his mind.


    "That''s..." he whispered, his voice trailing off as he processed the discovery.


    Below the restricted archives lay another chamber¡ªa hidden room that the spatial awareness revealed in perfect detail. Unlike the official library spaces, this concealed repository contained books that radiated subtle but distinct magical energies. Each volume seemed to pulse with unique enchantments, faint but unmistakable to his enhanced perception.


    Ambrose''s heart quickened with excitement. This, finally, was what he had been searching for¡ªa true treasure trove hidden beneath the academy''s official knowledge base. He recalled using the elevator earlier and noted there had been no button indicating a lower level. Was this chamber deliberately concealed by the academy''s administration? A secret archive known only to select faculty members?


    Such questions were useless as he didn''t care if the academy chose to hide this collection. It was their fault for not being thorough enough, now, he was going to take whatever was in there for himself. With a slight smile playing across his lips, Ambrose activated his [Blink] ability.


    The world blurred momentarily as space folded around him. In the next instant, he materialized within the hidden chamber, his sudden appearance disturbing nothing but dust motes that danced in the stale air. No one in the restricted archives above had noticed his disappearance¡ªeach scholar too absorbed in their own pursuits to register his vanishing act.


    Upon arrival, Ambrose immediately recognized the mental fatigue that had accumulated throughout the day. His mental strength reserves had dipped dangerously low from the extensive use of his spatial awareness and teleportation abilities. Prudence dictated a period of recovery before exploration.


    Finding a clear space between towering bookshelves, Ambrose lowered himself to the floor and assumed a lotus meditation posture. He closed his eyes, focusing inward to engage his mental recovery skills. The process proved mercifully efficient; what might have taken hours for others required only minutes for him, thanks to his many mental strength recovery abilities.


    As his mental energy gradually replenished, Ambrose maintained perfect stillness, his breathing measured and controlled. When he judged his reserves sufficiently restored, he slowly opened his eyes¡ªand immediately froze in confusion.


    A soft, ethereal light illuminated the space before him, though he had detected no light sources within the chamber during his initial scan. As his vision focused, the source became apparent¡ªa girl stood directly in front of him, her entire form radiating a gentle luminescence that cast strange shadows across the dusty room.


    She appeared to be approximately his height, clad in what looked like the standard Crono Academy first-year uniform. But something about her presence struck Ambrose as fundamentally wrong¡ªhe had thoroughly scanned this space before teleporting, and it had been completely empty.


    Without hesitation, Ambrose activated [Blink] again, instantly transporting himself several meters away. His back pressed against a wall as he assessed the situation, mind racing through possibilities. His enhanced perception should have detected anyone in the vicinity, regardless of concealment methods. Even with his guard temporarily lowered during meditation, his natural awareness would have alerted him to someone approaching so closely.


    The girl was a little surprised by his sudden disappearance but she quickly calmed herself. Her luminous form sank directly into the floor, as though the solid surface offered no more resistance than water. Before Ambrose could process this, her hands emerged from the wall behind him, followed by her head and upper body. With ethereal grace, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.


    Her touch carried no physical weight¡ªmore like the memory of contact than actual pressure. She turned her face toward his, close enough that he should have felt her breath, yet there was nothing. Her eyes, luminous and strangely ageless, locked with his own.


    "You can see me right?" she whispered, her voice simultaneously distant and intimate, like words carried on a breeze from another world.


    ¡­


    Ambrose turned his head toward the spectral girl, studying her with calculated curiosity. Her embrace felt peculiar¡ªpresent yet simultaneously insubstantial, like pressing against a cloud that somehow maintained its form. The sensation was soft but oddly spongy, as though her touch existed in a state between tangibility and nothingness.


    He briefly considered activating [Blink] again to put distance between them, but reconsidered. If this encounter was the "event" he''d been hoping to discover¡ªsome hidden treasures or ancient knowledge¡ªfleeing might squander a valuable opportunity. Besides, his teleportation ability remained at the ready should the situation turn threatening. Whatever this apparition was¡ªartifact spirit, guardian, or something else entirely¡ªit warranted investigation.


    "What do you mean by ''see you''?" Ambrose asked, his tone measured and analytical.


    The question seemed to excite the luminous figure. She detached herself from him completely, emerging fully from the wall to hover before him. Her feet never quite touched the ground as she circled him with childlike fascination, her ethereal glow casting shifting patterns across the chamber''s shadowed bookshelves.


    "You really can see me," she breathed, her voice tinged with wonder as she completed several orbits around him, examining him from every angle like a particularly fascinating specimen.


    "Yeah, we''ve already established that I can see you," Ambrose replied dismissively, unimpressed by her evident surprise. He straightened his academy uniform with a casual gesture. "Now tell me who or what you are," he demanded, then glanced around at the hidden chamber, "and what this place is."


    The floating girl''s expression shifted to suspicion, her luminous features narrowing slightly. "How could you not know? This is the library," she stated as though it were the most obvious fact imaginable. With a small gesture toward herself, she added, "And I''m Claire, the librarian."


    Ambrose arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Isn''t the library supposed to be upstairs?"


    His question triggered a visible change in Claire''s demeanor. Her luminescence dimmed subtly as her gaze dropped toward the floor, shoulders slumping with a weight that seemed too substantial for her ethereal form.


    "Who cares what it is," she murmured, her voice suddenly smaller, more fragile. "As long as there are books inside, it''s a library." To demonstrate, she extended a hand toward a nearby shelf, attempting to run her fingers along the ancient spines¡ªbut her hand passed directly through the volumes as though they were nothing more than projections, or perhaps as though she herself lacked physical substance.


    Ambrose observed her change in emotions, her reaction to his question about the library suggested emotional attachment, he wondered if she had a backstory. Enjoy new tales from My Virtual Library Empire


    "Why is there no one here?" he asked deliberately, noticing how Claire''s movement froze at his question. "With all these books here, why is no one reading them?" To emphasize his point, Ambrose selected a tome from the nearest shelf, leafing through several pages before closing it with an audible snap. "If no one is reading them, isn''t it just a book storage?"


    The question struck like a physical blow. Claire''s entire form seemed to shudder, her luminescence flickering like a candle in a draft.


    "No!" she cried out, hands clutching at the fabric of her spectral uniform dress, fingers digging into the material as though seeking an anchor. "It''s a library," she insisted, her voice wavering with emotion. "I''m still here. I read the books." Her ethereal features contorted with what might have been the beginning of tears, though no actual moisture appeared. "So it''s a library."


    Ambrose just looked at her, with sudden decisiveness, he tossed the book he''d been holding directly at her.


    Claire''s hands instinctively rose to catch it, but the volume passed through her outstretched fingers as though through empty air, landing with a dull thud on the floor behind her.


    "Oh, and how are you reading them?" Ambrose asked pointedly, his gaze never leaving her face. His voice lowered slightly as he spoke. "You... you''re not human, are you?" Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 106 106: You’re A Librarian

    The shimmering data coalesced before Ambrose''s eyes as his Mind''s Eye skill analyzed the spectral figure:


    [Name: Claire]


    [Level: C]


    [Type: Mage]


    [Weakness: Holy Magic, Exorcism Magic]


    [Description: A ghost with huge resentment and a love for knowledge. Bound to the hidden library chamber, she obsessively maintains her identity as a librarian despite her inability to interact with the physical world.]


    Ambrose studied the information carefully, noting the peculiar deviation from the usual format. Rather than displaying the template normally reserved for humans, his Mind''s Eye had categorized Claire using the monster classification system. His earlier assumption¡ªthat she might be a human with some ghostly talent¡ªcrumbled under this revelation. She wasn''t human at all, but a genuine apparition.


    "A true ghost," he mused silently, his analytical mind already processing the implications. If she had once been human before her transformation into an apparition, wouldn''t that technically make her an intelligent monster? The classification raised intriguing questions, if she had talents as a human, did she still keep them? If her mortal abilities had carried over into her spectral existence, she could potentially be quite formidable.


    Still, her non-aggressive demeanor suggested he wasn''t in immediate danger. He maintained his composed expression as he watched her, deliberately having called her bluff about reading books and exposed her non-human nature. It wasn''t mere provocation¡ªhe wanted to see if he could compel her to reveal her true purpose. What form did her "huge resentment" take? Was it a generalized hatred toward all living humans?


    Contrary to his expectations, Claire''s response lacked any malevolence. Instead, she collapsed to the ground, her ethereal form making no sound as she crumpled onto the dusty floor.


    "What are you talking about?" she protested, voice trembling with unmistakable anxiety. "I''m human, I''m the librarian." Her luminous form flickered slightly with each desperate assertion.


    Ambrose regarded her with growing curiosity. Perhaps his speculation had missed the mark entirely. Could it be that she was unaware of her own state? The possibility warranted further exploration.


    "Then why can''t you touch the books?" he pressed, deliberately sharpening his inquiry.


    "That''s..." she began, but he cut her off with another calculated question.


    "Why can you walk through walls?" he demanded, watching her reaction carefully.


    Claire''s translucent features contorted with mounting distress. Her ethereal form seemed to lose cohesion around the edges, wisps of luminous energy wavering like candle flames in a draft.


    "No!" she shouted, the denial echoing oddly in the cavernous chamber. "It''s because of my talent." Her expression stabilized slightly as she seized upon this explanation. "That''s right," she continued, a nervous smile forming on her spectral lips. "It''s all my talent."


    Ambrose regarded her with carefully concealed skepticism. "I guess that could be it," he thought, though he maintained his interrogative stance.


    "Then deactivate it," he challenged calmly.


    "Wha?" Claire''s ethereal form recoiled slightly, genuine surprise evident in her luminous features.


    "Is your talent always active? Can''t you deactivate it?" he pressed, knowing full well that his question wasn''t entirely logical. Some talents fundamentally altered a person''s constitution and couldn''t simply be turned off. Still, her response might reveal more about her true nature and awareness.


    Claire stared at him with growing bewilderment. "Deactivate?" she repeated, the word directed more to herself than to him.


    Ambrose smiled with deliberate gentleness. "Yeah, it should be easy, right?" The calculated kindness in his voice only seemed to intensify her growing distress.


    Her ethereal form began to tremble visibly. Her breathing¡ªa curious affectation for a being that presumably needed no air¡ªgrew rapid and shallow as she appeared to struggle with accessing some internal power. The luminous pallor of her spectral face somehow managed to pale further, taking on an almost translucent quality. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her expression twisted gradually, features contorting into something increasingly inhuman. Her eyes, previously merely luminous, now blazed with crimson intensity. She clutched at her head with both insubstantial hands, fingers digging into her scalp as though trying to physically extract something from within.


    "No! No! No!" she chanted rhythmically, each repetition growing more frantic than the last. Her form began to flicker violently, momentarily revealing a more disturbing aspect beneath her schoolgirl appearance¡ªsomething ancient and pained.


    Ambrose observed her deteriorating state with a slight twitch of his lips, a rare display of uncertainty from the normally composed Rothschild heir. "Did I go too far?"


    ¡­


    "No!" Claire''s spectral form convulsed, her ethereal hands fluttering frantically through the air. "I''m the librarian!" she insisted, her voice cracking with desperation. "Don''t hurt the books!"


    Her luminous form pulsed with chaotic energy as her distress mounted, the ghostly light surrounding her fluctuating between blinding intensity and near darkness. The perfectly arranged shelves around them seemed to respond to her agitation, dust motes swirling in unnatural patterns among the ancient tomes.


    "I''ll read them all," she pledged fervently. "I''ll take care of them." Her voice dropped to a haunted whisper, "Don''t burn the books."


    Ambrose watched her deteriorating state with calculating eyes, recognizing the signs of a trauma response being triggered by his questioning. The fragmented phrases escaping her spectral lips painted a partial picture of her past. She had indeed been a librarian¡ªthat much seemed genuine rather than delusion¡ªbut something traumatic had occurred involving threatened destruction of the collection.


    His gaze swept across the chamber, noting how the volumes here differed from those in the main library above. These were substantially older, their bindings worn by centuries rather than decades. More tellingly, they emanated a distinct magical signature¡ªambient mana that had accumulated over vast stretches of time, slowly transforming ordinary texts into potential magical treasures through sheer longevity.


    "Had someone planned to burn these to make room for newer acquisitions?" he wondered. If so, when had this occurred? Decades ago? Centuries? Had she somehow locked herself away with these precious tomes, determined to protect them even as her mortal form perished?


    A sigh escaped his lips as he regarded her increasingly unstable condition. In her current state, coherent answers seemed unlikely. Worse, the chaotic energy surrounding her suggested imminent corruption¡ªshe was sliding toward becoming exactly the type of vengeful entity that haunted the pages of ghost stories, divorced completely from reason and driven solely by ancient grudges.


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    Despite the potential danger, Ambrose found himself reluctant to abandon this encounter. Claire represented a potentially valuable resource¡ªboth in her knowledge of this hidden collection and as a unique supernatural entity. Making a swift decision, he activated [Blink], materializing directly beside her tumultuous form.


    With deliberate gentleness, he reached for her hand. To his mild surprise, his fingers made contact with her spectral essence¡ªnot passing through as might be expected when touching a ghost. The sensation was strange¡ªneither fully solid nor entirely insubstantial, more like pressing against a cushion of concentrated air that somehow maintained humanoid form. He had actually slightly expected this as she was able to touch him earlier.


    "Is this related to my half-spirit nature?" he pondered. The thought carried intriguing implications. If ghosts were fundamentally spirits of a certain type, perhaps his unique heritage granted him interaction privileges denied to ordinary humans. It could also be that ghosts in this world can''t be touched and seen, he thought, but it wasn''t the time to explore this line of thought.


    The moment of contact created an immediate effect. One of Claire''s crimson eyes¡ªblazing with supernatural rage moments before¡ªreverted to its original luminous state. Though she continued struggling against whatever internal storm plagued her, the touch seemed to anchor her partially to rationality.


    "It''s okay, calm down," Ambrose offered, his voice deliberately soothing. He maintained physical contact, recognizing it seemed to stabilize her condition.


    "But..." she protested weakly, her form still flickering with distress. "I can''t touch the books. I can''t read the books." Each admission seemed physically painful to her, as though acknowledging these limitations threatened her very identity. "That means I can''t be a librarian. The books will be burned."


    At this final fear, her spectral energy flared dangerously again, the stabilizing effect of Ambrose''s touch nearly overwhelmed by her resurgent terror.


    Ambrose maintained his composure, gently placing his free hand on her head in a patting gesture. The action seemed curiously effective at channeling her chaotic energy into more stable patterns.


    "It''s okay," he assured her. "You can still be a librarian."


    Her frantic movements stilled almost instantly. "Really?" The single word carried desperate hope.


    Ambrose nodded confidently. "Of course."


    "But I can''t read the books," she countered, genuine confusion replacing her earlier panic.


    A knowing smile spread across Ambrose''s features. "Who says the librarian has to be the one reading the books?" he asked, his voice carrying genuine warmth despite its calculated nature.


    Claire stared at him, her luminous eyes widening with dawning comprehension. "You mean..."


    Before she could complete her thought, Ambrose smoothly interjected, "I quite like these books. Can you recommend some for me..." He paused deliberately before adding, "Miss Librarian?"


    The effect was immediate and dramatic. The chaotic aura surrounding Claire shattered like glass, fragments of spectral energy dissolving into the chamber''s still air. Her eyes reverted fully to their natural luminous state, the unnatural crimson completely vanishing. Translucent tears streaked down her ethereal cheeks, catching the light like falling crystals as they dissipated before reaching the floor.


    "Sure," she replied, her voice steadying as she embraced the identity he had reaffirmed for her. The simple acknowledgment of her role¡ªregardless of her spectral limitations¡ªhad apparently provided exactly the validation she needed to maintain her sanity.

 Chapter 107 107: Ghost Contract [PART 1]

    Ambrose''s eyes traced the elegant script flowing across ancient parchment, absorbing knowledge from a treatise on elemental transmutation that had likely remained untouched for centuries. The gentle rustling of pages echoed in the hidden chamber beneath Crono Academy''s restricted archives¡ªa secret repository whose existence had been forgotten by all but one.


    As he lifted his gaze from the weathered tome, Ambrose found Claire hovering before him, her spectral form radiating a soft luminescence that cast dancing shadows across the dusty shelves. Her ethereal features had arranged themselves into an eager smile, the earlier distress completely absent from her ghostly countenance.


    "Does it not suit your tastes?" she inquired with the professional attentiveness of a dedicated librarian. Her translucent fingers gestured toward the book in his hands. "Do you want me to pick another one for you?"


    Ambrose suppressed a grimace, mentally berating himself for his strategic miscalculation. When he had first recognized her non-human nature¡ªa ghost harboring deep resentment¡ªhe had deliberately provoked her, hoping to trigger a semi-berserk state. His plan had been elegant in its simplicity: once agitated, she would perceive him as vulnerable, activating his Fragile Beauty skill. The charm effect would then allow him to easily manipulate and establish control over her, potentially binding her as a ghost summon¡ªtraining her secretly to protect her against Hualing is she ever lost control.


    But he had overlooked a crucial element. While Claire indeed carried centuries of resentment within her, she also possessed an overwhelming devotion to this hidden library. Her entire identity had become inextricably bound to these forgotten tomes. The likelihood of convincing her to abandon her self-appointed duty seemed vanishingly small.


    I completely misread the situation, he thought, mentally palm-facing at his own shortsightedness.


    Claire tilted her head questioningly, observing his momentary lapse into self-recrimination. "Is something wrong?" her voice carried genuine concern.


    With a dismissive wave, Ambrose closed the book and set it carefully aside. A new approach was needed¡ªone that worked with her devotion rather than against it.


    "Claire," he began deliberately.


    The ghost perked up instantly. "Yes?"


    Choosing his words carefully to avoid triggering her, Ambrose ventured, "Have you ever thought about moving the library?"


    The effect was immediate. Claire''s luminous form dimmed noticeably as her spectral hands clutched at the fabric of her dress¡ªa reflexive gesture from her mortal days. Tiny wisps of chaotic energy began dancing around her edges, warning signs of the instability he had witnessed earlier.


    "Don''t misunderstand," he added hastily, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I don''t mean it like that."


    Her form stabilized slightly, though wariness remained evident in her posture.


    "Actually," Ambrose continued, shifting tactics, "isn''t it boring being here?"


    "I have to protect the books," she replied with the simple conviction of someone stating an immutable law of nature.


    Ambrose noted the fundamental disconnect. She wasn''t comprehending his suggestion as anything but a threat to her purpose. A more indirect approach would be necessary¡ªone that leveraged her devotion rather than challenged it.


    Rising from his seated position, Ambrose adopted a contemplative expression. He moved with deliberate care between the towering shelves, letting his fingers trail across the ancient spines with reverent gentleness.


    "Actually, I feel bad for these books," he murmured, infusing his voice with calculated melancholy.


    Claire''s form drifted closer, curiosity overcoming caution. "Why?" The single word carried genuine concern for her precious charges.


    Selecting a particularly impressive volume bound in what appeared to be dragon hide, Ambrose cradled it in his hands like a sacred artifact. His voice took on the cadence of a philosophical lecture, resonant with manufactured passion.


    "Books are not mere objects, but living vessels that carry the immortal essence of those who came before us. When authors commit their thoughts to paper, they perform an act of sacred preservation, embedding their very souls into the pages we now hold." His fingers caressed the ancient binding with theatrical reverence. "These tomes possess a mysterious will of their own¡ªhave you not felt a book call to you from a shelf, or witnessed how certain volumes find their way into the hands of those who need them most?"


    Claire''s luminous form brightened with recognition, her head nodding in vigorous agreement.


    "We are not the owners of books but their temporary guardians," Ambrose continued, warming to his performance, "entrusted with their care until they choose to move on. To neglect a book is to silence a voice that has traveled across time itself to speak directly to you, a betrayal of the covenant between writer and reader that sustains the great river of human wisdom flowing from one generation to the next."


    I''m really good at this nonsense, he thought smugly. I''m almost convincing myself.


    Pausing for dramatic effect, Ambrose gazed sadly at the surrounding shelves. "That''s why I feel such sorrow for these books imprisoned here," he gestured expansively, "unable to share their knowledge. Don''t you think it''s terribly selfish of us to keep these treasures to ourselves?"


    Claire''s spectral features registered the first flickers of doubt, exactly as he had intended.


    "When these authors committed their wisdom to paper," he pressed, sensing weakness, "they hoped that knowledge would reach future generations. Are we going to let their hopes die here, in this forgotten place, accumulating nothing but dust?"


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    The ghost librarian''s form wavered slightly, internal conflict visible in the fluctuating intensity of her luminescence. "What should I do?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "They wanted to get rid of the books. I just wanted to protect them..."


    Sensing her spiraling toward another dangerous emotional state, Ambrose stepped closer, gently pressing his finger against her spectral lips. The touch halted her distress immediately. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I have a plan," he stated with confident authority. "Form a contract with me, and I''ll take both you and the books out of here." His eyes locked with hers, projecting absolute conviction. "I''ll ensure both your safety and that of the library."


    Extending his hand toward the spectral librarian, Ambrose carefully maintained his expression of sincere concern, revealing nothing of his calculated manipulation or the potential advantages a bound ghost might provide in his arsenal of abilities.


    Claire stared at his outstretched hand, centuries of protective instinct warring with the alluring promise of fulfilling her true purpose¡ªsharing knowledge rather than merely preserving it.


    ¡­


    Claire''s luminous gaze fixed upon Ambrose''s outstretched hand, her spectral form flickering with indecision. The centuries she had spent as guardian of this forgotten library weighed heavily in her ethereal consciousness, a burden of purpose that had defined her existence beyond death.


    She had protected these books with unwavering dedication, preserving ancient knowledge from those who would destroy it. Yet Ambrose''s words had planted a seed of doubt in her heart. In her fierce determination to safeguard these tomes, had she inadvertently betrayed their fundamental purpose? Had she become not their protector, but their jailer? How was she any different from those who wanted to torch them?


    "Was I... selfish?" she whispered, the question directed more to herself than to Ambrose.


    Her translucent features contorted as conflicting emotions battled within her. No, she hadn''t acted out of selfishness. She had acted out of necessity, out of desperate love for these irreplaceable repositories of wisdom. They were going to burn the books¡ªdestroy centuries of knowledge with callous disregard. She had done what was necessary to preserve them.


    And yet...


    Books existed to be read, to share their knowledge with seeking minds. By hiding them away, even with the noblest intentions, hadn''t she denied them their essential purpose? A book unread was like a song unsung¡ªpreserved but unfulfilled.


    Claire''s luminous eyes lifted to meet Ambrose''s steady gaze. Something in his expression resonated with certainty¡ªa confidence that seemed to transcend his youthful appearance. His eyes held wisdom beyond his years, as though he could perceive layers of reality hidden from ordinary sight. When he looked at her, she felt strangely vulnerable, as if her centuries of existence were laid bare before him.


    For the first time since her death, Claire felt a fluttering sensation reminiscent of her mortal heart. A ghostly blush tinged her translucent features as she realized that in Ambrose, she had found someone who understood both her devotion to the books and the greater purpose they were meant to serve.


    With delicate grace, her arm extended toward him, her incorporeal fingers pressing against his solid flesh with that curious semi-tangible quality unique to their interaction. The connection sent a shiver of energy through her ethereal form¡ªnot unpleasant, but intensely alive.


    "I agree," she murmured, her voice carrying both resolution and surrender.


    ¡­


    A/N - Should we explore what Meihua and the girls are doing or just skip and use it later as a flashback? Many of you seem to always want to have Ambrose on screen but he isn''t all that interesting.

 Chapter 108: Ghost Contract [PART 2]

    Ambrose and Claire stood facing each other in the hidden chamber, their hands pressed together in that curious half-tangible connection. Though he¡¯d never performed a ghost contract before, Ambrose had encountered some spirit contract descriptions in several ancient texts during his earlier reading marathon. The process designed for binding spirits should, theoretically, work equally well with ghostly entities.


    Closing his eyes, Ambrose silently recited the incantation, focusing his mental energy on the point where their hands met. As the ancient words flowed through his mind, a luminous energy began to coalesce around their joined hands, pulsing with an otherworldly glow that cast eerie shadows across the dusty bookshelves.


    The radiance intensified, spreading tendrils of light up Claire¡¯s arms. Her ethereal features reflected a mixture of determination and uncertainty as the connection between them strengthened. Minutes passed as the energy built to a crescendo, bathing the entire chamber in its spectral illumination.


    Claire¡¯s translucent form began to waver, her expression shifting from uncertainty to fatigue. Her luminous eyes widened in surprise as tiny motes of ghostly essence began breaking away from her periphery, like glowing snow drifting upward against gravity. These particles of spectral energy floated gently toward Ambrose, disappearing as they made contact with his skin.


    "Is this... normal?" she whispered, her voice growing fainter as more of her form dissolved into drifting particles.


    Ambrose maintained his concentration, not daring to break the ritual. "Just hold on," he assured her, though uncertainty flickered across his features. The texts had mentioned absorption, but witnessing the process firsthand proved unexpectedly disconcerting.


    The disintegration accelerated, Claire¡¯s ghostly form growing increasingly transparent as more of her essence transferred into Ambrose. Her outline became indistinct, blurring at the edges until finally, with a soft sigh that echoed strangely in the chamber, she disappeared completely, the last motes of her spectral form vanishing into Ambrose¡¯s being.


    Ambrose stood alone in the chamber, a peculiar warmth spreading through his chest where Claire¡¯s essence had been absorbed. The bond felt different than he¡¯d anticipated¡ªnot like acquiring a tool or weapon, but more akin to welcoming another consciousness into his own mental space.


    "Did it work?" he asked aloud, directing his thoughts inward where he sensed Claire¡¯s presence.


    A faint voice echoed in his mind, carrying Claire¡¯s distinctive cadence. "I think so," she replied, her mental voice sounding somewhat disoriented but intact.


    "That¡¯s good," Ambrose nodded, satisfaction evident in his expression. With the contract successfully established, he could now test the practical applications of having a bound ghost. According to the texts, contracted spirits could be summoned externally when needed, while otherwise residing safely within their contractor.


    Extending his hand, Ambrose channeled his mental energy, focusing on locating Claire¡¯s essence within him and drawing it outward. He visualized her form materializing before him, gathering his concentration to execute the summoning.


    Before the process could complete, Claire¡¯s voice suddenly cut through his mind with unexpected urgency.


    "Master!" The panic in her mental cry startled him, his concentration wavering. "Help me..."


    Her voice trailed into a scream that reverberated painfully through his consciousness before abruptly silencing. The connection between them severed with jarring suddenness, leaving Ambrose standing with his hand outstretched, a bewildered expression frozen on his face.


    "Claire?" he called mentally, searching for her presence. Nothing answered.


    Confusion gave way to analytical concern as Ambrose lowered his arm. How could their connection be severed so suddenly? What danger could possibly threaten a ghost already inside him? Was his Weak Body Physique incapable of housing ghosts?


    Settling into a lotus meditation posture on the dusty floor, Ambrose closed his eyes and deepened his breathing. He directed his consciousness inward with methodical precision, expanding his awareness throughout his own body and conciousness. Layer by layer, he examined his internal landscape, searching for anomalies or disturbances that might explain Claire¡¯s distress.


    ¡­


    In the next instant, Ambrose found himself in a familiar yet unsettling environment. The murky void of the dark expanse surrounded him. His consciousness floated within the shadowy nothingness, suspended in the same mysterious realm he¡¯d encountered several times before.


    He looked around the murky void. Before, he¡¯d only been able to access it involuntarily, typically when rendered unconscious through external means.


    The revelation that he could enter this space through deep meditation presented intriguing possibilities. If he could access this place, did this mean that he could explore the white expanse whenever he wanted? His gaze instinctively traveled upward, searching for the contrasting brilliance of the white expanse that typically existed as this realm¡¯s counterpart. However, nothing but continued darkness greeted him¡ªno glimpse of that pristine, luminous void.


    "I suppose conscious entry has its limitations," he mused, mentally cataloging this discovery for future investigation.


    His contemplation shattered as Claire¡¯s desperate cry cut through the murky void like a knife.


    "Master! Help!" Her voice echoed with genuine terror, reverberating through the darkness.


    Ambrose whirled toward the sound, immediately spotting Claire¡¯s luminous form several meters away. Unlike her usual ghostly composure, panic contorted her features as she struggled against the murky substance. The dark expanse seemed to be actively consuming her, pulling her translucent form deeper with each moment, like quicksand claiming an unwary traveler.


    "Claire!" he called out, instinctively reaching toward her.


    To his surprise, the mere intention to move propelled him forward through the darkness. Unlike his previous experiences where he¡¯d felt himself slowly sinking into the void, Ambrose now moved with deliberate control, gliding effortlessly through the murky environment. The realization struck him with sudden clarity¡ªhe wasn¡¯t merely a visitor to this realm but possessed some fundamental connection to it.


    Focusing his will, Ambrose directed himself toward Claire¡¯s struggling form, discovering that the darkness responded to his mental commands. He extended his hand, grasping her arm.


    "I¡¯ve got you," he assured her, concentrating on stabilizing the darkness around them.


    The void responded to his authority, creating a pocket of relative stability within the otherwise consuming darkness. Though his influence extended only to their immediate surroundings¡ªperhaps a few meters in radius¡ªit proved sufficient to halt Claire¡¯s descent into the murky depths.


    As Ambrose maintained this protective bubble, Claire clung to him with surprising force for a spectral entity. Her translucent arms wrapped around him with desperate intensity, her form trembling against his. Unlike her usual composed demeanor, raw fear had stripped away her dignity, leaving only primal terror in its place.


    Ambrose patted her head gently. "You¡¯re safe now," he soothed. Though initially calculated, his protective response had evolved into something approaching genuine concern.


    Is the darkness really so terrifying? To be able to turn someone like Claire who was a ghost into such a mess, he wondered, continuing his calming strokes along her spectral hair as her trembling gradually subsided.


    Several minutes passed before Claire¡¯s panic diminished enough for coherent conversation. Ambrose maintained their protective bubble with steady concentration, discovering that the effort required minimal exertion compared to his normal abilities. But even then, he still couldn¡¯t control the rest of the murky void, just the small area around him.


    "How did you get here?" he finally asked, his analytical curiosity reasserting itself.


    Claire lifted her luminous gaze to his, lingering fear still evident in her spectral features. "Well, I was floating in your consciousness until I saw those two lights," she explained, her voice carrying an ethereal tremor. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Two lights?" Ambrose¡¯s interest sharpened immediately.


    "Yes." Claire nodded emphatically. "There was a white one and a dark one."


    She described how, while exploring his internal landscape, she¡¯d encountered two contrasting luminous points within his consciousness. Drawn by curiosity, she had approached for closer examination, only to be unexpectedly pulled into the dark light by an irresistible force. Once captured, she¡¯d found herself immersed in absolute emptiness¡ªno sound, no light, no sensation whatsoever¡ªfloating in pure darkness that seemed determined to consume her entirely.


    "It was like being erased," she whispered, her form shuddering at the memory.


    Ambrose contemplated this information with growing interest. His own experiences within the dark expanse had never included such overwhelming dread or sensations of consumption. The difference in their experiences suggested that Claire¡¯s status as an external entity might be triggering defensive mechanisms within this mysterious space.


    "This might present an opportunity," he realized, an idea forming in his mind.


    "Claire," he began carefully, "would you be willing to do me a favor?"


    The ghost looked at him with apprehensive eyes but nodded her agreement.


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    "I¡¯m going to expel you from this dark expanse," Ambrose explained, "and when I do, I want you to try entering the white light you mentioned instead."


    He hypothesized that if the dark light corresponded to this murky void, then perhaps the white light represented a gateway to the white expanse¡ªthe white expanse seemed to be hiding many secrets and he didn¡¯t know how to unveil them as every time he entered the white expanse, he¡¯s always in a random location and is always on a countdown and never had time to fully explore.


    If Claire could access it while maintaining their contract connection, perhaps she could serve as his anchor, potentially allowing him more control over when and how he entered that mysterious space.


    Ambrose anticipated resistance to his request. After all, Claire had just endured a traumatic experience within one mysterious realm¡ªwhy would she willingly venture into another? To his surprise, she agreed without hesitation.


    "I thought you wouldn¡¯t want to," he admitted, genuine confusion breaking through his typically composed expression.


    "The white light doesn¡¯t feel like the dark one," Claire explained, her spectral features softening. "It doesn¡¯t radiate that same sense of... hunger. It feels calm, peaceful¡ªalmost welcoming."


    Ambrose didn¡¯t fully understand the distinction she described, but acknowledged her assessment with a nod. If the contrast between realms was as significant as she suggested, perhaps the white expanse truly did represent something fundamentally different from its dark counterpart.


    "Very well," he said, tightening his mental grip on the murky void surrounding them. "Ready yourself."


    With concentrated effort, Ambrose extended his newfound control over the dark expanse, creating a current of energy that surrounded Claire¡¯s spectral form. The darkness responded to his will, swirling around her translucent body before propelling her upward and outward with gentle but insistent force, expelling her from the murky void and back toward the twin lights she had described.

 Chapter 109 109: Spatial Dominion - Awakened

    Ambrose''s consciousness flowed back to his physical form, the connection to Claire reestablishing. Just as he had been unable to sense her presence when she fell into the dark expanse, the same limitation applied in reverse¡ªtheir connection severed completely during his dive into that murky void. Now, back in the hidden library chamber, he could once again feel the delicate thread binding them together.


    "Claire," he called mentally, his thoughts reaching across their spiritual connection. "Can you try accessing the white light you mentioned earlier? I''m curious to see if it leads somewhere different from the dark one."


    Several minutes passed as Ambrose waited patiently, his physical body perfectly still in its meditative posture while his awareness remained focused on their bond. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Master, there''s a problem," Claire''s voice finally whispered through their connection, tinged with confusion. "Unlike the dark light that practically pulled me in, the white light seems to be... rejecting me. It''s as though there''s an invisible barrier preventing me from getting any closer."


    Ambrose sighed, his breath stirring the dust motes dancing in the library''s stale air. The outcome, while disappointing, wasn''t entirely unexpected. The white expanse had always presented itself as a more orderly, structured counterpart to the chaotic dark void¡ªit made sense that it might possess more selective entry requirements.


    "It''s alright," he reassured her. "Let''s abandon that approach for now. At the very least, I''ve discovered I can access the dark expanse through meditation rather than requiring unconsciousness. That alone is valuable knowledge."


    Shifting his focus, Ambrose concentrated on summoning Claire into the physical world. Unlike his previous failed attempt, this time he felt the smooth transfer of energy as her essence flowed outward from within him, coalescing into her spectral form before his eyes.


    Claire materialized gradually, her luminous outline gaining definition until she stood before him in the hidden chamber. Ambrose observed her with analytical curiosity, noting significant differences from her previous manifestation. Though still translucent, she appeared more substantial, her edges more clearly defined against the library''s shadowy background. She no longer gave the impression of something about to dissipate like morning mist¡ªinstead, her presence carried a newfound solidity.


    When Ambrose reached out to touch her, he was surprised by the sensation. The peculiar half-tangible quality that had characterized their previous contact had all but vanished. Her form now felt remarkably similar to touching a living person¡ªwarm and solid beneath his fingertips. Only his enhanced perception detected the subtle differences; for anyone with ordinary senses, the distinction would have been imperceptible.


    As Claire adjusted to her new manifestation, something extraordinary happened. A small book on a nearby shelf trembled slightly before rising shakily into the air, hovering unsteadily before drifting toward her outstretched hand. Though it didn''t make physical contact with her spectral fingers, it remained suspended before her, responding to her will rather than her touch.


    "I can... I can move things!" she exclaimed, her luminous features brightening with pure delight. "The contract must have granted me some form of telekinesis!"


    Her joy was infectious as she experimentally lifted several more volumes, creating a small orbit of books around her ghostly form. With delicate concentration, she opened one of the floating books, telekinetically turning its pages with the reverent care of a true bibliophile.


    "I can read them," she whispered, her voice carrying the awe of someone receiving an unexpected miracle. "I can finally read them again."


    Ambrose watched her float cross-legged in the air, a book suspended before her glowing face, pages turning at regular intervals as she immersed herself in its contents. Her expression of absolute bliss¡ªof a librarian finally reunited with her true purpose¡ªbrought an unbidden smile to his face.


    Turning his attention to the surrounding shelves, Ambrose contemplated the practical matter of relocating this hidden library. When he had promised Claire to rescue these books from their forgotten prison, his motivation hadn''t been purely altruistic. These ancient tomes represented a treasure trove of forgotten knowledge, potentially containing secrets that could accelerate his development far beyond conventional study paths.


    He thought that since they were just rotting here, why not let him have them? "I''m not stealing," he reasoned to himself, running his fingers along the dust-covered spines. "If the rightful owner ever appears seeking these books, I''ll return them without hesitation." The justification felt hollow even to himself, but he pushed aside the momentary discomfort.


    He looked around as he wondered how to carry them, he could ask the principal to give them to him, he was sure she wouldn''t mind. But he didn''t feel like going through the hassle, he decided that he''d carry them using spatial rings. He possessed nine spatial rings back at his estate, gifts from his mother, but they already contained various treasures and couldn''t accommodate an entire library. Besides, retrieving them would require returning to his quarters.


    A more elegant solution presented itself as he considered his inherent abilities. He turned his thoughts to his space-time talent that had manifested after his transmigration, he could now teleport and could even exert omniscience over a radius, so then how come he didn''t have an inventory space? Wasn''t creating a personal inventory space the most natural application of such power?


    "It''s about time I developed that particular aspect of my ability," he mused, his mind already formulating the necessary approach. With an inventory space of his own, he could transport the entire collection without reliance on external tools.


    ¡­


    Ambrose settled onto the dusty floor, cross-legged and perfectly poised despite the unforgiving surface beneath him. The ancient chairs scattered throughout the hidden chamber, with their worn leather and creaking joints, promised nothing but collapse after centuries of neglect. He watched Claire with mild amusement as she floated around the room, her form radiating pure joy as she telekinetically manipulated a particularly ancient book, its pages turning beneath her ghostly influence.


    With practiced movements, Ambrose reached for his spatial ring, accessing its contents. Several yellowed scrolls materialized in his hand¡ªhis mother''s personal notes on spatial manipulation, gifted to him before her departure. He arranged them carefully on the floor before him, their edges curling slightly as he unrolled the first one.


    "I''ve read her published works," he thought, fingers tracing the elegant script that flowed across the parchment. "But these contain her raw theories, the foundation beneath her mastery."


    Victoria Rothschild''s reputation as a spatial manipulation prodigy was well-earned¡ªher published research had revolutionized the field decades ago. Yet these private scrolls contained something more valuable than academic knowledge: they offered insight into how she conceptualized space itself.


    Ambrose had absorbed the technical knowledge, but now he needed to internalize the underlying principles. His semi-awakened Spatial Dominion talent hovered at the threshold of transformation. With his mother''s guidance through these scrolls and his own extraordinary intelligence, he could push it toward full awakening without traditional magical practice.


    He acknowledged that without mana, he couldn''t perform the exercises as written. But he could still simulate the concepts mentally, as long as he had solid understanding of the concept, the system would help him materialize it.


    Closing his eyes, Ambrose entered a deep meditative state, his consciousness turning inward. Within his mindscape, he meticulously reconstructed each theoretical framework his mother had outlined. He envisioned spatial fabric as a malleable medium, the mathematical formulas governing its behavior manifesting as glowing equations that he manipulated with practiced precision.


    Hours passed as he conducted hundreds of mental experiments, each building upon the insights gained from the last. Where other practitioners needed physical demonstrations to progress, Ambrose''s extraordinary mental capacity allowed him to compress years of practical experience into a concentrated burst of pure theoretical mastery.


    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of mental gymnastics, something shifted within him. A familiar notification materialized in his perception:


    [Ding! Your persistent study of spatial theory and practical application has reached a critical threshold]


    [Spatial Dominion - Semi-Awakened: is evolving]


    Ambrose instinctively braced himself, muscles tensing in anticipation of the system-induced unconsciousness that typically accompanied significant evolutions.


    Yet seconds passed, and the expected collapse never came. Instead, a simple notification appeared:


    [Evolution Complete]


    [Spatial Dominion](Intrinsic) - This rare inborn talent has fully awakened, granting the user profound understanding and significant control over space itself. What was once a limited connection has evolved into a deep communion with spatial principles. (Subskills: [Spatial Omniscience](SS), [Spatial Displacement](S), [Spatial Harmony](A), [Pocket Dimension](A))


    His eyes widened as he noticed an additional notification:


    [[Pocket Dimension] (A) Resonates deeply with your time talent]


    [Pocket Dimension](A => S)


    [Pocket Dimension](S) - A powerful ability that allows the creation of a personal dimensional space existing outside normal reality. This pocket dimension initially spans about 20 cubic meters but expands with mental power and continued use. The user can access this space through a spatial rift they create within 5 meters, and can selectively allow others entry. The most remarkable aspect of this evolved ability is the selective temporal control within the dimension. The user can designate specific items or areas within the pocket dimension to experience different time flows - accelerating time to rapidly age wine or preserve perishable items by slowing their temporal progression to near zero. This temporal manipulation requires significant mental energy that scales with the size of the affected area and the degree of time distortion. Typically, the user can manipulate time for a few cubic meters of space, with greater distortions requiring exponentially more mental strength.

 Chapter 110 110: Packing Up

    Ambrose stared at his new skill''s description with quiet satisfaction, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. This wasn''t just a fortunate accident; it was the culmination of a carefully designed experiment he had been meticulously working toward. The pattern had revealed itself to him over time.


    It had begun when he first detected others using telepathy. Rather than simply observing, he had immersed himself in the concept, dissecting its fundamental principles until comprehension crystallized into capability¡ªresulting in his Thought Transmission skill. Later, when examining the talent testing device at the academy, his concentrated attention and deep analysis had not only awakened his Mind''s Eye skill but evolved his entire Observation talent to new heights.


    Following this established pattern, Ambrose had now turned his extraordinary intellect toward spatial manipulation. Drawing on everything he knew about dimensional theory, he had constructed elaborate mental simulations, running countless iterations through his phenomenal mind. The underlying principle was becoming clear to him: as long as one simulation proved successful, the system would facilitate the awakening of the corresponding skill.


    His hypothesis had proven correct. The system had recognized his conceptual mastery and manifested it as a tangible ability. Yet even as he admired the impressive skill description, Ambrose remained analytical, noting the inherent limitations of this process. No matter how brilliant his mind, he couldn''t simply start awakening any concept he understood into a skill. The awakened abilities needed to align with his established talents, unless he somehow unlocked an entirely new talent category.


    Scanning through the detailed descriptions of his other skills, Ambrose noted with satisfaction that they had all advanced significantly compared to their previous iterations. The evolution represented a substantial power increase across his entire capability spectrum.


    Rather than immediately implementing his new abilities, Ambrose maintained his meditative posture on the dusty library floor. Prudence dictated replenishing at least a portion of his depleted mental strength before attempting to utilize such power-intensive skills. The minutes stretched on as he focused on his recovery techniques, his breathing measured and controlled. Though he couldn''t restore his mental energy completely, he eventually accumulated enough reserves for what he planned next.


    Rising smoothly from his seated position, Ambrose brushed the dust from his academy uniform with practiced precision. "Time to move," he announced to Claire.


    The librarian floated to his side, her luminous form pulsing with barely contained excitement. Though she tried to maintain a dignified demeanor appropriate for her role, childlike curiosity radiated from her ethereal features as she wondered how her master intended to relocate an entire library''s worth of books. Despite her uncertainty about the method, her expression reflected absolute faith in his capabilities¡ªa belief that he could accomplish anything.


    Ambrose cleared his throat under her expectant gaze, a hint of theatrical flair creeping into his normally restrained demeanor. With deliberate slowness, he extended his arm before him, fingers splayed as if grasping something invisible.


    In the next instant, reality itself seemed to tear open before his outstretched hand. A massive spatial rift materialized in the air, approximately three meters in radius, its edges pulsing with swirling energies in deep blue and midnight black. The rift hummed with power, distorting the light around it like a gravitational lens.


    Claire recoiled instantly, her spectral form darting behind Ambrose for protection. "A dungeon gate!" she exclaimed, her luminous eyes wide with alarm and recognition.


    Ambrose couldn''t help but smile at her dramatic reaction. "It''s not a dungeon," he corrected gently. "It''s my skill."


    "You can summon dungeons?" Claire peeked out from behind him, her voice a mixture of fear and newfound reverence. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Well, not really," Ambrose replied with casual nonchalance, "but something similar." He didn''t feel inclined to correct her misunderstanding further. If she perceived his abilities as even more extraordinary than they actually were, it would only strengthen her loyalty¡ªa calculated advantage he was not above exploiting.


    The ghostly librarian gazed at him with undisguised awe. After experiencing the terrifying murky void within him earlier, the ability to summon what appeared to be a dungeon entrance seemed almost tame by comparison. Her respect for her newfound master deepened with each demonstration of his mysterious powers.


    Focusing his concentration, Ambrose extended his influence throughout the hidden chamber. At his mental command, books began to rise from their shelves¡ªfirst a few, then dozens, then hundreds simultaneously. The ancient tomes floated through the air in graceful arcs before accelerating toward the spatial rift. The spectacle resembled a reverse hurricane of literature, with the portal''s gravitational pull drawing in every volume and scroll from the surrounding shelves.


    Claire watched in stunned silence as the entire collection, representing centuries of accumulated knowledge, vanished into the dimensional gate. Within minutes, shelves that had been laden with precious manuscripts for untold years stood completely bare, the chamber stripped of its purpose and identity.


    When the final book disappeared into the swirling rift, Ambrose released a measured sigh as he stabilized the pocket dimension with careful mental adjustments before closing the gateway with a decisive gesture. Some sweat had formed on his brow from the exertion, and he dabbed it away with a handkerchief produced from his sleeve.


    The twenty cubic meters of dimensional space had proven just sufficient to accommodate the entire collection, though the operation had taxed his newly awakened abilities considerably. The cumulative strain of the day''s events¡ªthe ghost contract, navigating the murky void, awakening new skills, and now this massive spatial manipulation¡ªhad left him feeling genuinely fatigued, a rare sensation for someone whose challenges were typically mental rather than physical.


    "Let''s go," he instructed Claire, who continued to stare at the empty space where the dimensional rift had been, still processing what she had just witnessed. She had known of spatial techniques in theory, but witnessing one of such magnitude¡ªcapable of storing an entire library¡ªexceeded her already considerable expectations of her new master.


    Recognizing that he hadn''t yet tested whether she could teleport alongside him, and lacking the energy for unnecessary experimentation, Ambrose drew her form closer. With a simple mental command, he reabsorbed her essence into himself, where she would be safely contained during their journey back.


    With Claire secured, Ambrose turned his thoughts to his newly evolved teleportation ability. The upgrade from [Blink] to [Spatial Displacement] represented a significant advancement, and he was eager to experience its expanded capabilities firsthand.


    He focused his mind, visualizing his destination while mentally activating the skill: [Spatial Displacement]


    The detailed skill description flashed through his mind as space began to warp around him:


    [Spatial Displacement](S) - The evolved form of Blink that grants vastly improved teleportation capabilities. The user can now teleport themselves and objects up to 100 meters with pinpoint accuracy, and can transport other willing creatures through touch. The mental strain has been significantly reduced, allowing for multiple sequential teleports before exhaustion. The user can now also perform partial displacement, such as teleporting just a hand through a barrier to unlock a door, or displacing incoming attacks to miss their target. Each use still consumes mental energy proportional to distance and mass moved.

 Chapter 111 111: The Plan

    In the Spirit World,


    Victoria Rothschild stood before an ornate wardrobe carved from what appeared to be luminescent silver wood. Her face remained completely expressionless, eyes vacant as though her consciousness dwelled elsewhere. Each movement she made possessed a mechanical precision, as if invisible strings guided her limbs like a marionette in some play.


    With methodical detachment, she removed her garments, letting them fall around her feet in a careless heap. Her nakedness seemed incidental to her¡ªmerely a transitional state between one role and another. Victoria''s gaze drifted toward the wardrobe, where ceremonial attire awaited her¡ªclothing she had deliberately avoided since her arrival in this realm, preferring the familiar comfort of her own wardrobe from the human world.


    The gown she withdrew shimmered with an otherworldly radiance. Crafted from fabric that seemed to capture and release light with each subtle movement, it flowed like liquid moonlight between her fingers. The bodice was adorned with intricate patterns resembling constellations, tiny gemstones that weren''t quite diamonds catching light in ways that suggested they might be crystallized spirit essence. The dress''s numerous layers cascaded in a graceful waterfall of gossamer and silk, each tier more translucent than the last, creating an impression of ethereal mist solidified into clothing. From the shoulders extended a cape-like train that seemed to merge with the air itself, the edges dissolving into wisps that floated several inches above the ground, defying gravity.


    Victoria dressed herself with the same emotionless efficiency that characterized all her movements. The gown settled around her form as though it had been waiting for her, conforming perfectly to her silhouette. When fully adorned, she approached the enormous mirror that dominated one wall of her chamber.


    She turned slowly before the mirror, spinning with surprising grace to examine herself from all angles. Though her body language expressed enthusiasm¡ªarms extended gracefully, posture perfect¡ªher face remained an emotionless mask, eyes devoid of the pleasure one might expect from such finery.


    Satisfied with her appearance, or perhaps simply completing another required step in her preparation, Victoria approached an ornate table laden with personal items. With casual indifference, she began picking up objects and tossing them over her shoulder without looking. Each item¡ªa brush, a small book, various trinkets¡ªvanished into nothingness before hitting the floor, swallowed by a void that presumably led to her dimensional storage.


    Her movements faltered when her fingers closed around a picture frame. For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed her features as she regarded the photograph. Within the simple frame, three figures were captured in a moment of rare happiness: Victoria herself, her husband Friedrich, and their young son Ambrose. For several heartbeats, she simply stared at the image, thumb brushing almost imperceptibly across the glass over her son''s face.


    Then, as if catching herself in a moment of weakness, she tossed the frame behind her like all the other objects, consigning this memory too to the dimensional void.


    With her preparations complete, Victoria straightened, adjusting the elaborate gown one final time. The door to her chambers opened with a whisper of movement, and a small spirit¡ªno larger than a hummingbird, glowing with gentle blue light¡ªfluttered into the room, hovering near her shoulder.


    "Are you ready?" the tiny spirit inquired, its voice like chimes in a gentle breeze.


    "Yes," Victoria replied, the single word clipped and final.


    Together they departed the chamber, traversing ethereal corridors that seemed to shift and change with each passing moment. Eventually, they arrived at the grand throne room where the Spirit King awaited, seated upon a massive chair that appeared to be carved from the heart of a star, pulsing with inner light.


    The Spirit King''s gaze lingered on Victoria as she approached, a flicker of recognition passing across his ancient features. She bore a striking resemblance to her mother, Celestia¡ªthe human woman who had captured his interest centuries ago. He shook his head slightly, banishing the comparison from his mind as he rose to his feet.


    "This was our promise," he stated, his voice resonating with power that seemed to vibrate the very air. "You''re only fulfilling your end of the contract."


    "I know that," Victoria snapped, showing none of the deference others typically accorded the ruler of this realm. Her eyes, normally cool and calculating, now flashed with dangerous intensity. "I just hope that I don''t miss my son''s birthday because of this."


    A momentary pause hung between them, pregnant with tension.


    "If that really happens," she continued, her tone shifting dramatically.


    The atmosphere around Victoria changed, becoming dense with potential energy. The spirits nearest to her backed away instinctively as temperature plummeted. Her eyes transformed first, human irises giving way to brilliant blue that glowed with inner power. The transformation rippled outward, her hair changing color at the roots and flowing toward the tips like ink spreading through water, converting her entirely to her spirit form.


    "Let''s just say, there will be no more three worlds," she finished.


    The lesser spirits around them watched with naked terror, but to everyone''s surprise, the Spirit King burst into hearty laughter.


    "You really like joking," he declared, seemingly unperturbed by her implicit threat.


    The attending spirits exchanged nervous glances. Had that been a joke? Nothing in Victoria''s demeanor or the cold power radiating from her suggested humor.


    "Now then," the Spirit King announced, extending his hand with casual authority. Space folded at his command, reality parting to create a swirling portal beside him. Pulsing with ethereal energy, the gateway opened to somewhere beyond the Spirit World¡ªtheir destination for whatever mission had been agreed upon.


    Without sparing the Spirit King another glance, Victoria stepped forward and plunged into the portal, which collapsed behind her.


    ¡­


    In a secluded chamber deep within the Xia Empire, shadows gathered like conspirators. Twelve figures stood arranged in a semi-circle, their faces concealed behind intricately crafted masks representing the ancient zodiac animals of their homeland.


    At the front of the gathering, seated upon an imposing throne carved from dark wood and inlaid with jade, was Dragon. His mask, more elaborate than the others, featured scales that caught the torchlight with an iridescent gleam, creating the illusion that the dragon''s face was moving, breathing.


    Beside him stood Rabbit, her posture perfect and attentive. Her mask was simpler but no less beautiful¡ªa sleek design with elongated ears and delicate whiskers crafted from silver wire. Though her face remained hidden, her alertness was evident in every line of her body.


    Dragon''s gaze swept across the assembled members, mentally accounting for each of his zodiac agents. Rat, Ox, Tiger, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig¡ªall present, all awaiting instruction.


    Satisfied with their attendance, Dragon leaned forward slightly, his voice resonating with authority as he began, "We''ll start making our move soon before the emperor catches on to our plan."


    Before he could elaborate further, Rat''s voice cut through the ceremonial atmosphere. "Can I get a new outfit? Mine got burned." The interruption was jarring in both its timing and casualness.


    The other members turned toward Rat with varying degrees of surprise and disapproval visible despite their masks. His clothing was indeed in a sorry state¡ªthe right side nearly completely incinerated, revealing glimpses of singed undergarments and skin beneath. The fabric continued to shed ash with each movement he made.


    Dragon paused, his masked face turning briefly toward the interruption before deliberately looking away. He continued speaking as though Rat had never opened his mouth, outlining phases of their operation. Rat''s shoulders slumped visibly at being ignored, his head dropping in what appeared to be resigned disappointment.


    When Dragon completed his overview of their master plan, he shifted his attention specifically to Snake. "How''s your progress?" he inquired, his tone indicating he expected favorable news.


    Snake moved forward with fluid grace, bowing with perfect depth¡ªnot too shallow to show disrespect, not too deep to appear servile. "Just as Sir Dragon had predicted, everything is going according to plan," he reported, satisfaction evident even through the mask''s concealment.


    "Good, good," Dragon replied, his mask''s features somehow conveying pleasure despite its fixed expression. With a slight turn of his head toward Rabbit, he communicated a silent command that she immediately understood.


    Rabbit stepped forward, moving toward the chamber''s far wall where a large map had been affixed. The parchment displayed an incredibly detailed layout of Crono Magic Academy¡ªevery building, corridor, garden, and what appeared to be several hidden passages were meticulously rendered with precision that could only have come from someone intimately familiar with the institution.


    Clearing her throat delicately, Rabbit raised a slender finger toward a section of the academy''s eastern perimeter. "We''ll go in from here," she began, the assembled zodiac members leaned forward collectively, their previous formality melting into intense focus as they absorbed the details of what would clearly be their most ambitious operation yet.


    [VOLUME 3 END] sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 112 112: Personal Library

    [VOLUME 4 START]


    Ambrose materialized in the academy hallway with a soft displacement of air, causing several passing students to stumble back in surprise. He ignored their shocked expressions as he surveyed his surroundings with satisfaction. The Spatial Displacement ability had performed beyond expectations, transporting him across a considerable distance while barely tapping his mental reserves.


    This evolved skill is truly remarkable, he thought, appreciating how efficiently he''d traversed the distance. Despite the temptation to continue using his spatial abilities, Ambrose decided against depleting his mental strength further. The remaining journey to the estate would be completed the old-fashioned way¡ªon foot.


    Upon reaching his residence, fatigue finally caught up with him. Without ceremony, he made his way to his bedroom, collapsed onto the plush mattress, and surrendered to sleep''s embrace.


    Morning light filtered through the curtains when he awoke, bringing with it clarity of purpose. The academic classes held little appeal¡ªmerely boring lectures covering fundamentals he had long since studied. He decided to skip class altogether. He thought to himself that he would probably visit the principal later and ask for permission to skip classes whenever he wanted as they really didn''t do anything much for him and he''d much rather spent that time doing something productive.


    "Go on without me," he instructed Hualing and the others as they prepared for classes.


    Hualing''s expression tightened with concern. "Master¡­"


    "I won''t be leaving the estate," Ambrose assured her, noting her reluctance. "I''ll remain within these walls for the entire day. There''s no need for a bodyguard when I''m safely at home."


    After several moments of visible internal debate, Hualing was finally convinced. As the group prepared to depart, Ambrose observed the easy conversation flowing between the young women. Their relaxed postures and occasional laughter spoke of growing bonds. His decision to give them space to develop their own dynamics had proven wise.


    Once alone, Ambrose summoned Claire from his mindscape. The ghostly librarian materialized beside him, her form glowing softly in the morning light. They both walked to the center of the estate. Ambrose wanted to find a dedicated space to store all the books he had stolen¨Cborrowed.


    Despite having received the estate from the principal a while back, Ambrose had never properly explored its full extent. This presented the perfect opportunity to test his newly evolved spatial awareness kill. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He focused inward, calling forth the skill:


    [Spatial Omniscience](SS) - A dramatic evolution of spatial awareness that grants comprehensive understanding of all matter and energy within the user''s domain. The range has expanded significantly (typically 100-150 meters) and scales with mental strength. Within this sphere, the user perceives everything with perfect clarity: every movement, position, and the subtle fabric of space itself. The user can instantly detect spatial anomalies, dimensional distortions, and even cloaked or phase-shifted entities. Most notably, the user can now "remember" the spatial arrangement of areas they''ve previously observed, allowing them to sense major changes when returning to familiar locations.


    Rather than activating the skill at full capacity¡ªwhich would drain his mental reserves instantly¡ªAmbrose engaged a modified version, focusing solely on visual information while filtering out the myriad other metrics. With deliberate control, he extended his awareness outward in expanding ripples.


    Mental energy coursed through him as his consciousness spread across the estate. The half-mile radius became an open book to his perception, every room and corridor unfolding in his mind simultaneously. The mental strain was considerable, but vastly preferable to physically traversing the entire property. A fleeting thought crossed his mind¡ªhe could have simply requested the estate''s layout from the principal¡ªbut he dismissed it with a mental shrug. This exercise served as excellent practice for his evolving abilities.


    As his awareness blanketed the final corners of the estate, Ambrose''s extraordinary mental processing capabilities engaged automatically. His brain cataloged and mapped every wall, every passage, every chamber. Within seconds, a perfect three-dimensional model of the entire property crystallized in his mind, rendered with architectural precision. Despite the overwhelming volume of information flowing into his consciousness, his enhanced cognitive abilities processed it effortlessly, storing each detail with perfect clarity that could be instantly recalled when needed.


    When he had captured everything, Ambrose gradually retracted his awareness, relieving the pressure on his mental reserves. Even with the limitations he had imposed, utilizing the skill across such an extensive area had proven taxing. I should reserve wide-range scanning for critical situations, he noted to himself. The mental strain is significant, even with my enhanced processing capabilities.


    With a slight gesture to Claire, he started walking purposefully through the corridors. "I''ve found the perfect location for our library," he announced. He now moved with absolute confidence through the estate, navigating its layout as if he''d lived there for years rather than days.


    ¡­


    Ambrose and Claire entered the chosen room with measured steps, their footfalls echoing in the empty space. The chamber was impressively spacious, with high ceilings that invited soft natural light through tall windows along one wall. A fine layer of dust covered the wooden floor, suggesting the room had gone unused for some time.


    "A storage room, by the looks of it," Ambrose thought, but it didn''t matter as the room was perfect for their purpose.


    Claire drifted forward, her spectral form gliding across the floor without disturbing the dust. She turned in a slow circle, her eyes taking in every corner, every possibility.


    "The positioning is ideal," she observed, her voice carrying that peculiar ethereal quality. "Removed enough from the estate''s main activities to ensure quiet, yet still accessible. With proper shelving and furnishings¡­"


    Ambrose nodded in agreement. Though the room was there, it still needed some renovations to be used properly. He traced invisible lines through the air, mentally placing bookshelves, reading tables, and comfortable seating. He decided to talk to Adelaide about the renovations later.


    That evening, when his companions returned from their classes, Ambrose pulled Adelaide aside to discuss his vision for the space.


    "I have a task for you," he explained, leading her to the empty room. "I intend to convert this chamber into a private library. Could you locate suitable craftsmen to install proper shelving, reading furniture, and appropriate lighting?"


    Adelaide''s eyes lit with understanding and purpose. "Consider it done master. I know a few master carpenters who specialize in such work. They can begin immediately." Ambrose was pleased to hear this, it was really nice having someone like Adelaide around. With her around, he could leave all the annoying tasks to her, Ambrose thought but he didn''t say it aloud.


    True to her word, Adelaide''s efficiency proved remarkable. Within hours, a small army of craftsmen descended upon the estate. Ambrose observed with satisfaction as the empty room underwent its transformation. Master carpenters installed floor-to-ceiling bookshelves of rich mahogany along the walls. Artisans polished the hardwood floors to a warm glow. Others arranged comfortable reading chairs and sturdy oak tables, positioned strategically to catch the natural light.


    By sunset, the space had metamorphosed from an abandoned storage room into a distinguished private library that would not have looked out of place in a noble''s manor. The air now carried the pleasant scent of polished wood and fresh beeswax.


    Once Adelaide assured him the work was complete, Ambrose went into the newly furnished room and accessed his pocket dimension. With a subtle manipulation of spatial forces, he extracted the collection of ancient texts¡ªseveral hundred volumes that represented Claire''s former sanctuary beneath the academy. The books materialized in the center of the newly renovated library, forming an impressive mound upon the floor.


    Claire materialized beside him, her eyes widening with undisguised delight at the sight of her treasured collection. Without prompting, she extended her hands, and the books began to rise from the floor. They hovered in the air, suspended by her telekinetic abilities, drifting like autumn leaves caught in a gentle breeze.


    Ambrose watched with quiet appreciation as Claire orchestrated the collection. Books floated to their designated places, arranging themselves by subject, era, and sometimes by author. Her expression held the peaceful contentment of a curator reunited with precious artifacts.


    Later, Ambrose gathered his companions in the newly established library. "I''ve created this space for our party''s exclusive use," he announced, gesturing to the impressive shelves now lined with ancient volumes. "These texts contain knowledge dating back centuries¡ªinsights and wisdom that could prove invaluable to our advancement."


    He deliberately omitted any mention of Claire, who had already returned inside him. Ambrose had explained to her that since she was a ghost, it was better if she remained inside him whenever there were other people around.


    In the days that followed, the library became a frequent gathering place for the party members. Each gravitated toward their particular interests¡ªAdelaide to economic texts, Marcus¡ªwhen he wasn''t out training with the sword¡ªto combat manuals, as for Hualing she didn''t seem to have much interest in the books. But that was to be expected, after all, she was a berserker-type. Ambrose had decided to make the books accessible to the members of his party mostly because of the intelligence-types within his party (Adelaide, Meihua, and himself). Seeing how Marcus and Hualing were advancing, he didn''t want the others to fall behind.


    Meihua, however, displayed the most curious behavior. While she appeared engrossed in mathematical treatises, Ambrose frequently caught her casting furtive glances in his direction.


    Ambrose wondered if she knew something, maybe about the book''s origin or even about Claire''s existence. But he chose not to confront her on the matter. Meihua''s knowledge might eventually prove useful¡ªor dangerous. For now, he would simply watch and wait.

 Chapter 113 113: Party Advancements

    The golden light of the system notification illuminated Ambrose''s face as he gently closed the ancient tome resting in his hands. The leather-bound cover felt smooth beneath his fingertips, worn by centuries of scholars who had sought its wisdom before him.


    [Congratulations! You have successfully read and comprehended 1000 unique scholarly works! Your dedication to the pursuit of knowledge has been recognized]


    [Title Acquired: Scholar II]


    [Effects: +10 Intelligence, +20% Comprehension Speed when reading academic texts]


    Ambrose exhaled deeply, his breath disturbing the motes of dust that danced in the rays of afternoon sunlight filtering through the tall windows of his private library. The scent of aged parchment, leather, and beeswax permeated the air¡ªa fragrance he had grown intimately familiar with over the past week of intense study.


    With a practiced gesture, he summoned his stats screen, the translucent blue interface materializing before him like a ghostly window into his very essence.


    Seven days had passed since his fateful encounter with Claire and the acquisition of the ancient library. Seven days of relentless pursuit of knowledge, devouring books at a rate that would have seemed impossible to his former self. Between the voracious reading sessions, he had conducted countless experiments with his spatial techniques and run elaborate simulations for his time-related talents. A theory had taken root in his mind¡ªif spatial dominion existed as a skill, then surely time dominion must exist as well. The symmetry of it made perfect sense to his analytical mind, but even so, he had yet to make any real progress.


    His eyes narrowed as he examined his statistics. The numbers hadn''t shifted dramatically, save for his intelligence which had climbed from 135 to 150¡ªfive points from the newly acquired title and ten from the sheer volume of knowledge he had absorbed from the books.


    Nothing significant happened at 150 intelligence, which led him to deduce that the next meaningful milestone would likely come at 200. The realization drew a weary sigh from his lips. His progress felt glacial¡ªa full week of reading approximately 200 books daily just to gain ten points. The effort-to-reward ratio struck him as particularly harsh.


    "So this is how non-combat professionals in this world must feel," he mused silently, a newfound appreciation forming for the mundane scholars who lacked his systemic advantages. Gratitude welled within him as he recalled the fairy girl who had bestowed upon him his initial 100 intelligence points. Without that foundation, his journey would have been exponentially more arduous.


    Raising his gaze from his own stats, Ambrose turned his attention to the other members of his party who were scattered throughout the library, each engaged in their own pursuits. With a subtle mental command, he called up their statistics one by one.


    [Name: Sun Hualing]


    [Level: B]


    [Talent: Blood Knight (Transcendent)]


    [Health: 10000/10000]


    [Mana: 800/800]


    [Strength: 82]


    [Stamina: 100]


    [Agility: 80]


    Hualing remained the uncontested powerhouse of their group. She had evidently broken through to B rank, an impressive feat that Ambrose suspected would put her on par with a trainee knight from the Rothschild household. Yet despite her remarkable progress, she still couldn''t match a full-fledged Rothschild knight. The gap between amateur and professional combat abilities in this world remained vast.


    His gaze shifted to Liu Meihua, who sat cross-legged in a corner, a stack of mathematical texts surrounding her like a fortress of knowledge.


    [Name: Liu Meihua]


    [Level: B]


    [Talent: Calculation (Mythical)]


    [Health: 500/500]


    [Mana: 800/800]


    [Strength: 4]


    [Stamina: 5]


    [Agility: 4]


    Surprise flickered across his features. Contrary to his expectations, it was not Marcus but Meihua who had claimed the second position in their party''s hierarchy. Her frail physical stats stood in stark contrast to her impressive rank, highlighting the potency of her Mythical-grade Calculation talent. A fellow transmigrator indeed, he thought with a mixture of admiration and suspicion. He couldn''t help but wonder if she had stumbled upon some special treasure during moments when his vigilance had lapsed.


    Near the window, Marcus moved through a series of fluid sword forms, his blade catching the light with each precise movement.


    [Name: Marcus Turner]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Sword Intent (Top Level)]


    [Authority: Light Fragment (Virtue: Kindness)]


    [Health: 7000/7000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 70]


    [Stamina: 70]


    [Agility: 79]


    While still classified as C rank, Marcus''s strength had increased dramatically since the tournament. Back then, he had barely qualified for C rank; now, he stood at the precipice of B rank. The corner of Ambrose''s mouth quirked upward in amusement. Main character privileges, he supposed¡ªthe protagonist''s growth curve always defied common sense.


    Finally, his attention turned to Adelaide, who was meticulously organizing a series of ledgers and documents at one of the reading tables. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Name: Adelaide Brightwell]


    [Level: C]


    [Talent: Accounting (Top Level)]


    [Health: 2000/2000]


    [Mana: 400/400]


    [Strength: 10]


    [Stamina: 20]


    [Agility: 10]


    Adelaide had improved remarkably from D rank to C rank. Examining her physical stats, Ambrose noted with interest that she had become the strongest non-combatant in their group¡ªa testament to her diligent training with Marcus during whatever time she could spare from her studies and business affairs.


    Her business acumen had proven equally impressive. Under her stewardship, their RAT Co. had experienced steady growth, nearing the scale and influence of the Golden Compass Trading Company. Perhaps even more valuable was the underground information network she had cultivated. Through her connections, Ambrose now received intelligence on kingdom-wide events with unprecedented speed. With their network beginning to extend tendrils into the Empire, Holy Theocracy, and the Beast Kingdom. Adelaide had established herself as perhaps the most valuable member of the party, second only to Hualing''s combat prowess of course.


    A sense of satisfaction settled over Ambrose as he contemplated the collective progress of his companions. Each had grown in their own way, contributing unique strengths to their shared enterprise.


    With deliberate grace, he rose from his seat, the leather chair creaking softly beneath him. He approached Adelaide, his footsteps silent against the polished wooden floor.


    "Is everything ready?" he inquired, his voice cutting through the library''s peaceful silence.


    Adelaide looked up from her ledgers, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Everything has been prepared just as the master had requested," she replied, her eyes reflecting a quiet pride in her efficiency.


    The other party members glanced up from their respective activities, exchanging curious looks. Though they couldn''t discern the subject of the conversation, they had grown accustomed to these cryptic exchanges between Ambrose and Adelaide¡ªmoments when the two seemed to inhabit a private world accessible only to them.


    Ambrose nodded in satisfaction. "Good!" he declared, turning to address the entire group with an enigmatic smile. "Everyone, prepare. I''m taking you all somewhere."


    Their reactions were immediate¡ªa mixture of surprise and curiosity rippling through the room. Liu Meihua was the first to break the expectant silence.


    "Where are we going?" she asked, straightening her posture, her eyes narrowing with analytical interest.


    Ambrose brought a finger to his lips, his smile widening mysteriously. "It''s a surprise," he announced, his tone playful yet commanding.


    A collective eye-roll swept through the group, but beneath their feigned exasperation, anticipation flickered in their eyes. Whatever Ambrose had planned, it promised to be interesting¡ªhis schemes always were.


    ¡­


    A/N - Sorry for the delayed uploads, I heard many saying that the story was slow and I was reworking the pacing, we''ll return to normal uploads when everything is sorted out.


    Do you think it''s slow?

 Chapter 114 114: The Capital Lumina (fixed)

    The ornate carriage swayed rhythmically as it traversed the cobblestone roads, its polished wooden frame creaking softly with each gentle bump. Inside, the members of Ambrose''s party sat.


    Liu Meihua sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture deceptively relaxed. Yet her eyes betrayed her, darting repeatedly toward the corner where Ambrose and Adelaide were engaged in hushed conversation. The duo''s heads were tilted toward each other, their voices low and measured, exchanging information that remained beyond the reach of the others. Adelaide''s quill scratched methodically against parchment as Ambrose''s finger occasionally pointed to specific details in her ledger.


    Earlier, Meihua had felt the unmistakable prickle against her consciousness¡ªthe sensation of an appraisal skill being used on her. She could instantly tell that the appraisal skill was being used by Ambrose. His Observation talent must''ve evolved at least once, she realized with a start. The standard Observation talent lacked such intrusive capabilities; this was something far more advanced.


    A frown creased her delicate features. How has he managed to upgrade his talent so quickly? More unsettling still was Ambrose''s complete lack of reaction to what he must have seen¡ªher startling advancement to B-rank. His face had remained impassive, those calculating eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.


    Dark possibilities swirled through her mind. Was this journey merely a pretense? Perhaps he intended to isolate her for experimentation, to uncover the secret behind her rapid growth. Images flashed unbidden through her mind¡ªa dimly lit basement, restraints, his cold analytical gaze as he¡­


    Across the carriage, Ambrose''s conversation with Adelaide continued uninterrupted, but his enhanced perception had registered every furtive glance, every minute shift in Meihua''s expression. He had initially dismissed her attention as mere curiosity, but the increasingly strange expression and the blushing gave him pause. He wondered if she had been caught in his skill.


    ~Hey, is something wrong? He saw no need to alert the others so he used thought transmission instead.


    The sudden intrusion jolted Meihua from her spiral. She stiffened momentarily before forcibly relaxing her shoulders and clearing her mind of those scenarios. She managed a slight nod, her expression smoothing into careful neutrality.


    Ambrose studied her for a moment longer before returning to his discussion with Adelaide. He thought that her reaction was strange, but he was pleased that she hadn''t been affected by his skill.


    A faint blush crept across Meihua''s cheeks as she stared fixedly at the carriage floor. That was close, she admonished herself. Had Ambrose developed mind-reading capabilities? She''d never encountered anything in the observation skill tree that granted such abilities. Had his talent somehow mutated along an unexpected path? Little did she realize that her own expressions had betrayed her thoughts more thoroughly than any telepathic intrusion could have.


    Seeking distraction, she shifted her attention to Marcus, who sat opposite her, his gaze distant as he stared out the small carriage window. The regressor appeared lost in contemplation, his hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword. A twinge of guilt flashed through Meihua''s conscience as she considered the item she had claimed¡ªan item that, in the original story''s timeline, should have fallen into Marcus''s possession.


    It''s fine, she reassured herself. Marcus is the protagonist, after all. He''ll undoubtedly acquire dozens more cheat items throughout his journey. I''m sure he won''t mind me taking one. Besides, he was already significantly stronger than he had been at this point in the original narrative. The divergence she had created would likely amount to little in the grand scheme of things.


    As the carriage crested a gentle hill, a massive stone archway came into view, crowned by an ornate signboard with gilded letters proclaiming: "Welcome to Lumina Crown." The capital of the Avaloria Kingdom spread before them, a sprawling expanse of grand buildings and bustling streets, the royal palace gleaming at its center like a jewel.


    Meihua''s expression froze, her blood running suddenly cold as fragmented memories from the original story coalesced in her mind. If her recollection was correct, a significant event was destined to unfold in the capital around this time¡ªsomething that would fundamentally alter the trajectory of the narrative.


    And that was¡­


    ¡­


    The imposing stone archway of Lumina Crown''s entrance gate cast long shadows across the approaching carriages, a testament to the capital''s grandeur and security. A formidable contingent of royal knights stood sentinel at their posts, their polished armor gleaming in the midday sun¡ªa necessary show of force for the city that housed the king himself. Their vigilant eyes scrutinized each visitor, permitting none to pass without proper scrutiny.


    As Ambrose''s carriage approached the checkpoint, a young guard stepped forward with practiced authority, raising his hand to halt their progress. "Halt and state your business," he commanded, his voice carrying the unmistakable confidence of one backed by royal authority.


    The driver had barely begun to explain when a resounding slap echoed through the air. The young guard found himself sprawled unceremoniously on the cobblestones, his cheek stinging from the impact. Bewildered, he looked up to see his captain, Sir Roland, standing over him with a thunderous expression. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What in Aurora''s name do you think you''re doing?" Sir Roland hissed, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. He jabbed a finger toward the carriage''s front panel. "Can you not see, you fool?"


    The young knight''s eyes widened as they settled upon the ornate golden hourglass embossed on the carriage door¡ªthe unmistakable crest of House Rothschild. Color drained from his face as the gravity of his error became painfully apparent. He had attempted to levy a toll on one of the kingdom''s most powerful noble families¡ªperhaps even the most powerful.


    Sir Roland straightened his uniform and approached the carriage with measured steps, his expression shifting from anger to practiced deference. As the carriage window lowered, revealing Ambrose''s youthful face, the captain''s composure momentarily faltered. His pulse quickened, and his mind raced with sudden alarm.


    Initially, he had assumed it was merely a transport carriage bearing the Rothschild crest¡ªa common enough sight for supply deliveries or messenger services from the northern dukedom. Such carriages could travel with minimal escort; after all, who would dare rob a vehicle bearing the Rothschild emblem, even with only a driver for protection? The family''s reputation alone served as a more effective deterrent than a squadron of armed guards.


    But this¡ªthis changed everything. Not a servant or retainer, but the Rothschild heir himself sat before him, traveling with what appeared to be no protection. Sir Roland felt a cold sweat break across his brow. If anything were to happen to the young master within the capital''s walls, the political ramifications would be catastrophic. It could potentially trigger a conflict between the crown and the northern dukedom that might tear the entire kingdom apart.


    He executed a formal bow, bending deeply at the waist. "Young Master Rothschild, please accept my most profound apologies for this embarrassing display." His voice carried the polished tone of a veteran diplomat. "This knight is newly commissioned and woefully ignorant of proper protocol. I hope you will find it in your grace to overlook this transgression."


    On the ground, the young knight trembled visibly. The Rothschild heir? I actually stopped the carriage carrying the Rothschild heir. Have the gods truly abandoned me?


    To everyone''s surprise, Ambrose''s response was a gentle smile that softened his aristocratic features. "It''s okay," he replied, his voice carrying none of the expected indignation. "It''s not that big of a deal"


    Sir Roland straightened, barely concealing his shock. Was the Rothschild Heir really that easy going? He wasn''t at all what the rumours said.


    "Young Master," the captain ventured cautiously, "may I inquire why you travel without your knights?" His brow furrowed with genuine concern. Turning sharply to his subordinates, he barked, "What are you waiting for? Dispatch a messenger to the palace immediately! The Rothschild heir requires a royal escort!"


    One of the knights broke away, sprinting toward the inner city with urgency in his stride.


    Ambrose leaned slightly out of the window, his expression shifting to mild exasperation. "There''s really no need for such formality. I''m merely conducting a brief errand in the capital. I''ll be departing before nightfall."


    "Young Master," Sir Roland replied, his voice heavy with respectful insistence, "with all due respect, you are putting us in a tough position."


    Ambrose released a resigned sigh. "Very well," he conceded, he understood what the knight meant, if something was to happen to him in the capital, the royal family would be implicated. "But I''ll not have a parade of knights disrupting my business. A single escort will suffice."


    Though visibly reluctant, Sir Roland nodded in agreement. "As you wish, Young Master. I shall personally report to the palace to arrange suitable accommodation." He gestured to his remaining knights. "Show the Young Master some hospitality in the meantime."

 Chapter 115 115: Change Of Plans (fixed)

    The growing commotion at Lumina''s entrance intensified as word spread that the Rothschild heir had arrived. Commoners and merchants alike crowded forward, eager to catch a glimpse of nobility from one of the kingdom''s most powerful families. The royal knights formed a protective perimeter, their armored forms creating a barrier between the curious masses and the ornate carriage bearing the golden hourglass emblem. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Please step back! Make way!" commanded a knight with practiced authority, gently but firmly pushing back against the pressing throng.


    Amid the bustling crowd, a solitary figure stood apart. Cloaked entirely in dark clothing that obscured both face and form, the individual observed the unfolding scene with calculated interest. No excitement animated their stance¡ªonly keen assessment, like a predator measuring prey. After several moments of silent observation, the figure retreated with deliberate steps, melting away from the gathering without drawing attention.


    Once safely distanced from prying eyes, the mysterious observer withdrew a small crystal sphere from within the folds of their cloak. The orb pulsed with a faint inner light as slender fingers traced arcane patterns across its surface.


    ¡­


    Thousands of miles away in the Xia Empire, Dragon sat alone in a dimly lit chamber. The sparse furnishings emphasized the room''s utilitarian purpose¡ªa place for strategy, not comfort. Banners bearing imperial symbols adorned the walls, silent witnesses to countless plots hatched within these walls.


    The door burst open without warning as Rabbit rushed inside, her usual composure replaced by an urgency that immediately captured Dragon''s attention.


    "What happened?" Dragon asked sharply, his dragon mask betraying nothing of his thoughts.


    Rabbit drew a quick breath. "One of our informants in the capital noticed something significant." Her voice remained steady despite her hurried entrance.


    "What is it?" Dragon''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "Apparently, the heir of House Rothschild was seen at the entrance to Lumina... without any guards." Rabbit extended a leather folder containing several documents. "The report just came through our emergency channel."


    Dragon accepted the folder with deliberate movements, spreading its contents across the table. His expression remained inscrutable as he methodically examined each page, comparing details against his extensive mental repository of intelligence.


    "What do you think?" Rabbit ventured after moments of silence. "Could it be a trap?"


    Dragon continued his assessment before finally looking up. "Probably not. Our plan hasn''t been leaked yet." His confidence carried the weight of decades of espionage work.


    Rabbit nodded, accepting his judgment without hesitation. If anyone else had dismissed such concerns so readily, she would have questioned their reasoning. But this was Dragon¡ªthe empire''s premier spymaster whose instincts had proven uncannily accurate for over twenty years.


    Still, one aspect troubled her. "Maybe the informant was mistaken. After all, there''s no way the Rothschild heir would travel without guards." The very idea contradicted everything they knew about noble security protocols.


    Dragon continued studying the intelligence before responding thoughtfully. "Not necessarily."


    "What do you mean?" Rabbit''s brow furrowed in confusion.


    "I''ve heard the Rothschild heir has spent their entire life confined to their estate," Dragon explained, leaning back in his chair. "Now that they''ve ventured outside, they must be eager to experience the world firsthand."


    "But isn''t he already outside at the academy?" Rabbit asked, genuinely perplexed.


    Dragon laughed, the rare sound filling the austere chamber. "Hahaha! How could you understand a child''s feelings?" His eyes crinkled with unexpected mirth. "To someone raised in isolation, even the academy would feel like another prison¡ªjust with different walls."


    He folded his hands contemplatively. "Perhaps that''s why he decided to visit the capital... to see the real outside world without constraints."


    Rabbit persisted with her logical assessment. "Then why travel without guards? I''m certain Friedrich wouldn''t object if his son merely wished to see the capital."


    Dragon smiled knowingly. "For someone in the heir''s position, guards would be a constant reminder of their noble status¡ªa barrier between them and the ''normal'' life they seek to experience." He fixed Rabbit with an amused glance. "Haven''t you read those stories about princesses escaping their castles to live among commoners?"


    Rabbit''s practical nature asserted itself. "Isn''t that just stupid?" she asked bluntly.


    Dragon chuckled again. "Well, that''s true." His expression suddenly shifted, all traces of humor vanishing as his eyes hardened with predatory focus. "Change of plans."


    The atmosphere in the room transformed instantly.


    "We won''t be capturing just the princess," he declared, his voice dropping to a dangerous timbre. "We''ll be capturing the prince too."


    ¡­


    The grand throne room of the royal palace echoed with silence as King Alexander sat upon his ornate seat of power. Sunlight streamed through tall stained-glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the marble floor where Sir Roland knelt in formal deference. The knight''s armor gleamed in the colored light, his posture rigid as he awaited the king''s response to his report.


    King Alexander stroked his trimmed beard thoughtfully, his brow furrowed with concern. The news of the Rothschild heir appearing at the capital''s gates without a proper escort had sent ripples of unease through the court. His mind raced through possibilities¡ªwas this some elaborate scheme by the Rothschild family? A trap to create an incident that could be blamed on the crown?


    But as quickly as the suspicions arose, the king dismissed them. Friedrich Rothschild, for all his power and ambition, wasn''t one for such underhanded tactics. The man was called the "Golden-Eyed Tyrant" not for deceit, but for his direct and overwhelming approach to challenges.


    "More likely the boy''s own idea," Alexander murmured to himself, a weary sigh escaping his lips.


    The thought of youthful impulsiveness brought his own children to mind. His gaze drifted momentarily to the royal family portrait hanging on the wall¡ªcaptured in oils and preserved in gilded frames were the faces of princes and a princess who had, more than once, caused diplomatic incidents through their well-intentioned but poorly considered actions.


    These children truly don''t understand how their simple actions could cascade into political crises, he thought resignedly.


    Still, there was little to be done now. The boy simply wanted to experience the world beyond his sheltered upbringing; Alexander could understand that impulse well enough. Since the kid had said that he didn''t want many guards, the king decided to fulfill his wish. It was just a child wanting to see the world, so he''d honor that request. He could simply assign some shadow guards to tail them in secret. The Rothschild heir should be fairly safe that way.


    "Bring the princess," the king commanded suddenly, addressing the livery-clad servant standing attentively at his right hand.


    The servant''s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before he quickly schooled his features back to professional neutrality. With a deep bow, he backed away from the throne and hastened from the chamber.


    Sir Roland watched the servant''s departure with growing curiosity. The princess? The choice was unexpected¡ªand potentially problematic. The princess''s reputation was well-known throughout the palace and beyond.


    Unlike the demure, refined ladies that typified royal daughters across the continent, the princess had eschewed traditional feminine pursuits from her earliest years. When other princesses were learning needlepoint and proper tea service, she had been found in the training yards, sword in hand, demanding instruction from bewildered knights. By an astonishing age of five, she had already begun formal knight training¡ªan unprecedented deviation from royal protocol that had scandalized the court.


    Her martial prowess had only grown more formidable with time. At merely ten years of age, she had defeated a knight captain in open combat, a feat that had earned her both admiration and wariness from the royal guard. When the king had attempted to arrange a marriage between her and a duke''s son¡ªas was expected for royal alliances¡ªshe had promptly challenged her would-be fianc¨¦ to combat and beaten him thoroughly, declaring she would never marry a "weakling."


    After several similar incidents, the king had apparently abandoned attempts to secure her a husband. None of the suitable noble sons seemed capable of meeting her extraordinary standards, and those few who might have stood a chance wisely declined the opportunity to risk public humiliation.


    Still, Sir Roland reasoned, she might indeed be perfect for this particular task. The Rothschild heir had specifically requested a single guard, and few in the kingdom could provide better protection than the martial princess. The true question was whether she would accept such an assignment, as she typically disdained any duty that didn''t involve combat or adventure.


    The heavy doors swung open once more, admitting the servant who now trailed slightly behind a young woman whose stride carried the confident purpose of a seasoned warrior rather than the measured grace expected of royalty. Her training leathers, worn beneath a minimal ceremonial cape bearing the royal crest, spoke volumes of her priorities.


    "What do you want?" she demanded without preamble, addressing her father with a directness that would have been considered shocking from anyone else. Yet no one in the chamber showed surprise at her manner¡ªthey had long since grown accustomed to her unconventional approach to royal protocol.


    King Alexander ignored her disrespectful tone entirely, continuing as though she had offered a proper formal greeting. "I have a task for you," he stated evenly.


    The princess''s expression immediately transformed, a gleam of anticipation lighting her eyes. "Finally," she breathed, relief evident in her posture. "Staying here is too suffocating." Her hand drifted unconsciously to the sword at her hip. "Who is it? The mountain bandits have been getting wild recently."


    Her excitement visibly mounted as she continued without pause, "Or is it those wolves from the eastern forest?" Each suggestion grew more animated than the last as her imagination raced ahead. "Wait, could it be a dungeon break?" This final possibility was offered with undisguised eagerness, her eyes practically sparkling at the prospect of genuine danger.


    Before she could spiral further into increasingly elaborate scenarios, the king raised his hand, commanding silence. "I want you to guard someone," he stated plainly.


    The room fell so utterly silent that the distant sounds of palace activity seemed to intrude upon the moment. The princess''s expression froze, then shifted through confusion to disbelief.


    "What?"

 Chapter 116 116: Princess Athena

    A/N - The earlier chapter was uploaded by mistake but I''ve already fixed it, if you''re still getting the wrong chapter, try clearing your cache. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The scene unfolding in the palace throne room bordered on comical. Princess Athena struggled to exit, her determined strides hampered by the full weight of the king hanging dramatically from her waist. His fingers clutched desperately at her training leathers as she dragged him across the polished marble floor.


    "Please do your old man a favor," King Alexander pleaded, his dignified royal demeanor completely abandoned. His crown sat slightly askew as he clung to his daughter with the tenacity of a drowning man.


    Athena''s face remained a mask of irritation. "Let me go! I don''t have time to guard some pretty boy," she declared, continuing her march toward the doorway with her royal burden in tow. Her sword clanked against her hip with each determined step.


    The assembled courtiers, knights, and servants maintained a rigid silence, their gazes carefully averted from the undignified spectacle. Not a single soul dared intervene or comment on the king''s behavior. The royal guards stood at attention, faces carefully neutral as they pretended not to witness their monarch''s dramatic display.


    "Don''t you feel bad for this old man?" the king''s voice shifted to a pathetic whine as tears began streaming down his cheeks. "I lost my wife, my sons are all obsessed with politics, my daughter doesn''t want to bear me some grandchildren. I''m so pitiful!" His sobbing intensified as he buried his face against Athena''s side, leaving wet streaks across her clothing.


    The princess''s shoulders slumped in defeat after enduring several minutes of this performance. Her expression shifted from irritation to disgust as she felt the dampness spreading on her garments.


    "Fine, I''ll do it," she conceded with a heavy sigh. "Just stop wiping snot on my clothes."


    The transformation that followed was nothing short of miraculous. The previously sobbing king instantly released his grip, all traces of tears vanishing as he materialized back on his throne with remarkable speed and dignity. His crown perfectly aligned, his posture regal once more.


    "Good," he declared with serene satisfaction, as though the previous undignified display had been merely a figment of imagination.


    Athena stared at her father, hardly believing his shamelessness. To think the ruler of Avaloria would resort to crying in front of the court just to get his way. She consoled herself with the thought that she didn''t have much to do anyway, so guarding some noble boy wouldn''t be the worst assignment. Besides, he was the grandson of Celestia Lancaster, the legendary war goddess who had been Athena''s idol since childhood. This might be an opportunity to see what the bloodline of her role model had produced.


    Meanwhile, across the city, Ambrose''s party found themselves experiencing treatment beyond anything they had previously encountered. Servants attended to their every need, merchants offered their finest wares without requesting payment, and citizens bowed respectfully as they passed. The mere association with the Rothschild heir had elevated them to near-royal status.


    Sir Roland entered the room, his armor gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. "The king has accepted your request," he announced with a formal bow. "You''ll be assigned a single guard, as requested."


    Ambrose acknowledged this with a simple nod, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts.


    After a moment''s hesitation, Sir Roland ventured further. "Would you like to meet the king?" The question was posed delicately, as the knight walked a careful diplomatic line. The king had expressed interest in meeting the Rothschild heir, but could not formally summon him without risking political complications. This informal invitation represented the perfect compromise.


    "Not really!" Ambrose''s immediate response nearly caused Sir Roland to lose his balance in shock.


    Ambrose turned to his companions with casual indifference. "What about you guys? Anyone interested?"


    Each of his party members shook their heads in turn, their reasons varying but their disinterest uniform.


    Marcus had no desire to engage in what he perceived as noble posturing. His experiences had taught him that such formalities were merely elaborate performances that changed nothing of substance.


    Meihua''s expression suggested mild boredom. She had witnessed enough royal spectacles in the stories she knew to find little novelty in meeting yet another king.


    Adelaide calculated the situation with her merchant''s mind and found no profit to be gained from such an encounter. Her time would be better spent exploring the capital''s markets and establishing potential business connections.


    Hualing''s reasoning was simplest of all¡ªif Ambrose showed no interest, neither would she. Her priorities aligned perfectly with her master''s.


    Sir Roland struggled to conceal his bewilderment. In his younger days, an invitation to meet the king would have been considered the highest honor, eagerly accepted by nobles and commoners alike. He wondered if the monarchy''s prestige had fallen off in the eyes of the younger generation. Have I reached unc status?


    As the knight stood lost in his nostalgic musings, a sharp feminine voice cut through his thoughts.


    "Where is that pretty boy?" The demanding tone echoed across the courtyard, drawing all eyes to its source.


    ¡­


    In a dimly lit chamber, a dozen figures shrouded in identical black cloaks gathered around a large table. The stone walls were adorned with detailed maps of Lumina''s capital and the royal palace, each marked with intricate annotations and potential entry points. Princess Athena''s portrait hung prominently on the central wall, secured by a ceremonial dagger that pierced through her painted forehead¡ªa target already chosen and studied.


    The heavy oak door creaked open, and a figure distinctly different from the others entered. Unlike the uniform appearance of his subordinates, this newcomer wore an ornate rooster mask, its red and gold detailing catching what little light penetrated the room. His presence commanded immediate attention, the hushed conversations dying instantly.


    Without a word, the rooster-masked figure withdrew something from within his cloak. With a flick of his wrist, a silver blur cut through the stale air. A dagger embedded itself into the wall with a decisive thud, pinning a new portrait beside Athena''s¡ªthe unmistakable face of Ambrose Rothschild, heir to the northern dukedom.


    The rooster-masked figure''s voice rasped through the chamber, cold and authoritative: "Change of plans."

 Chapter 117 117: Vulnerable Charm

    Sir Roland froze when Princess Athena''s voice cut through the air. Her casual reference to the Rothschild heir as a "pretty boy" sent a cold shiver down his spine. The princess was notorious for her disregard of noble etiquette, but addressing the heir of the kingdom''s most powerful family in such a manner could have serious political repercussions. As she approached with confident strides, the knight silently prayed to the goddess Aurora that the princess wouldn''t cause a diplomatic incident.


    Marcus stared in undisguised shock as he recognized the approaching figure. The sword at her hip, the warrior''s stance, the fierce determination in her eyes¡ªthere was no mistaking Princess Athena. His mind raced with memories from his previous life, where her name had been legendary. During the demon invasion that had devastated the continent, she had led the kingdom''s armies with unparalleled valor, fighting until her final breath at the battle of Blackstone Pass. Though she had never attained the coveted "True Hero" title, the people had bestowed upon her the honorific of "War Goddess," placing her in the same breath as her idol, Celestia Lancaster.


    A sudden realization struck Marcus like a bolt of lightning. Wait, isn''t Ambrose the grandson of Celestia Lancaster? Her own role model? Yet the princess''s dismissive tone suggested no recognition of this connection. The rumors about her character appeared to be true¡ªPrincess Athena cared nothing for titles, bloodlines, or status. Her respect was earned solely through displays of strength and valor. Even the grandson of her idol and heir to the kingdom''s most formidable noble house received no special treatment from her. Marcus couldn''t help but admire such a straightforward personality in a world of political machinations and facade.


    Meihua''s reaction was starkly different. Her eyes widened in horror as she recognized the princess, her mind racing through the original storyline she knew so well. "No! No! No!" she panicked internally, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Everything is all messed up!" She felt that the situation was spiraling out of control, if this really continued, they''d be in danger. She had to find a way out.


    Athena strode confidently before Ambrose, her tall figure casting a shadow over him as she fixed him with an appraising glare. Her arms crossed over her leather-clad chest, her stance wide and challenging. The typical intimidation tactic that had made countless nobles and warriors alike shrink back in discomfort.


    Ambrose found her directness refreshing. Throughout his life in this world, people had approached him with carefully measured words and actions, always conscious of his Rothschild heritage. The princess''s open disdain was a novel experience, one that amused rather than offended him. Interesting character, he thought, studying her fierce expression with analytical detachment.


    To everyone''s surprise, Ambrose extended his hand toward the princess, offering a handshake as casually as if they were meeting at a merchant''s gathering rather than under royal escort. The gesture caught Athena off-guard¡ªshe had deliberately spoken disrespectfully to test his reaction, expecting the typical indignation that noble heirs displayed when confronted with her unpolished manner. Such children usually bristled at her slightest provocation, demanding respect for their illustrious bloodlines.


    But this one simply offered his hand, his expression calm and unperturbed. She wondered what he was up to as she reached out to complete the handshake.


    When their hands connected, the princess was startled by what she felt. His fingers were slender and delicate against her calloused palm, his grip soft where hers was firm. His entire arm felt fragile beneath her touch, as though it might snap with the slightest pressure. Years of sword training had given her a strength that now seemed almost monstrous in comparison to his delicate physique.


    Ambrose looked up, meeting her gaze directly with clear, intelligent eyes. "I''ll be in your care from now on," he stated simply, his voice carrying neither submission nor command, but rather a straightforward acknowledgment of their arranged situation.


    Something unexpected happened in that moment. Princess Athena, the fearless warrior who had stared down enemy generals without flinching, felt heat rising to her cheeks. A strange fluttering sensation overtook her stomach, and her legendary eloquence in battle commands abandoned her completely. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Umm, well...yeah, sure," she stammered, her usual confidence evaporating like morning mist. When words failed her entirely, she resorted to nodding vigorously, her golden hair bobbing with the motion.


    Ambrose observed her reaction with curiosity. He wondered if she had fallen under his Vulnerable Charm skill. He thought that it was the first time his skill had had such a direct effect, before, it would just make people more favourable of him, but this¡ªthe princess''s personality type made her particularly susceptible to his passive ability. Proud warriors who looked down on him as weak triggered the strongest Vulnerable Charm responses, their aggressive instincts transforming unexpectedly into protective impulses. And seeing as she seemed like a berserker-type with evidently limited mental strength offered little resistance against the skill''s psychological effects.


    A small smile touched his lips as he noted her flustered expression. The fierce warrior suddenly reduced to awkward shyness presented a charming contrast that even his analytical mind couldn''t help but appreciate.


    "You can let go now," Ambrose pointed out gently, looking pointedly at their still-joined hands.


    Athena''s eyes widened as she realized she had been holding his hand far longer than socially acceptable. She released him immediately, snatching her hand back as though burned.


    "Ah, sorry," she muttered, rubbing her palm against her leather trousers, her usual commanding presence temporarily shattered.


    Meihua watched the interaction with fascination and growing understanding. It''s that skill again, she realized. In the original story, Ambrose''s charm skill had been mentioned as a defensive mechanism tied to his Weak Body physique, but its mechanics had never been clearly explained. The skill''s effects seemed random and unpredictable in the narrative.


    Sir Roland stood frozen, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. The transformation before him defied comprehension. Where was the overbearing princess who challenged dukes to combat? What sorcery had turned the kingdom''s fiercest warrior into a shy, stammering girl within seconds of meeting the Rothschild heir? Had the world turned upside down while he wasn''t looking?


    The veteran knight''s mind could process only one clear thought through his confusion¡ªhe needed to report this unprecedented development to the king immediately. Without a word of explanation, he turned and rushed from the courtyard, his armor clanking with each hurried step.

 Chapter 118: Get Them Together (fixed)

    "What did you just say?" King Alexander leaned forward on his throne, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the ornate armrests. The afternoon light streaming through the stained-glass windows cast prismatic patterns across his incredulous face.


    Sir Roland, still kneeling on the polished marble floor, cleared his throat nervously. "Your Majesty, I witnessed it with my own eyes. The princess¡ª" he hesitated, searching for diplomatic phrasing, "¡ªdisplayed unusual behavior when meeting the Rothschild heir."


    The knight¡¯s report painted a startling picture: Princess Athena, the kingdom¡¯s fiercest warrior who had challenged dukes to combat without batting an eye, had been reduced to stammering incoherence within moments of meeting Ambrose Rothschild.


    A curious thought blossomed in the king¡¯s mind. Could his daughter, beneath her hardened warrior exterior, harbor a secret fondness for pretty boys? The mental image of Athena cooing over delicate features and elegant mannerisms seemed so incongruous with her established character that he nearly chuckled aloud.


    Could it be that underneath all that pride she still likes cute things?


    No, that couldn¡¯t possibly be the case. The king dismissed these speculations as quickly as they had formed. The princess who had declared that she would never marry a "weakling" suddenly melting before the notoriously frail Rothschild heir? Preposterous.


    Then what else could it be? he wondered, his brow furrowing in concentration. It must be that Ambrose kid.


    Whatever the cause, a slow, calculating smile spread across Alexander¡¯s face. This unexpected development presented a political opportunity too perfect to ignore. The Rothschild house had long been the royal family¡¯s greatest concern¡ªtheir wealth and influence rivaling, perhaps even surpassing, that of the crown itself. A marital alliance between the houses would not only stabilize their relationship but also send a powerful message to the other noble families who had been growing increasingly bold in their ambitions.


    His smile deepened as he considered the implications. True, Victoria and Friedrich Rothschild were notoriously difficult to deal with¡ªparticularly Victoria, whose reputation as "The Mad Star" was well-earned. But if their children formed a genuine attachment, what could the parents do? Once the young hearts were joined, the political benefits would naturally follow.


    "Recall the shadow guards," the king commanded abruptly, addressing the livery-clad servant stationed by his right hand.


    The servant bowed deeply. "At once, Your Majesty." With measured steps, he backed away from the throne before turning to carry out the order.


    Alexander settled back, satisfied with his decision. The capital was perfectly safe, after all¡ªthe royal guard patrolled every street and square with vigilant efficiency. There was no real need for shadow guards to follow the young couple. Moreover, if Athena sensed their presence, she might grow self-conscious and reserved, which would defeat his purpose entirely. Better to give her freedom to act on these unprecedented feelings without the weight of constant observation. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His mind wandered to increasingly elaborate fantasies of the future. In his imagination, he could already see his fierce daughter softened by love, presenting him with grandchildren¡ªstrong, intelligent heirs who carried both Rothschild and royal blood. Five of them, at least, if his dreams were to be realized.


    A giggle escaped his lips before he could suppress it, followed by another, until he was nearly shaking with barely contained mirth.


    From his position on the floor, Sir Roland watched with growing alarm as the king devolved into what appeared to be a fit of madness, giggling to himself like a schoolboy sharing a private joke. The knight kept his gaze respectfully lowered, not daring to comment on his monarch¡¯s bizarre behavior.


    Was the king too shocked by the news that he went mad? But It¡¯s understandable, Roland rationalized as he maintained his formal posture. This news is simply too shocking. The memory of Princess Athena¡¯s flustered expression and stammering voice replayed in his mind. He, too, was struggling to reconcile that image with the commanding, intimidating royal daughter he had served for years.


    ¡­


    In the corner of the lavish reception chamber, Princess Athena sat perfectly still, her warrior¡¯s posture maintaining a facade of royal dignity. Her face remained an expressionless mask, betraying none of the emotional tempest raging within. To any casual observer, she might have appeared merely contemplative, perhaps strategizing as she always did before battle.


    But inside her mind, she was screaming.


    What was that? The question echoed relentlessly through her thoughts. The memory of her stammering, blushing response to the Rothschild heir replayed in excruciating detail, each recalled moment sending fresh waves of mortification through her. She, Princess Athena¡ªfeared throughout the kingdom for her swordsmanship and unflinching resolve¡ªreduced to a stammering mess by a simple handshake.


    I¡¯d rather face a hundred demons than endure another moment of this... this... whatever this is! she thought, her internal voice tinged with desperation.


    Yet beneath the embarrassment lay something else¡ªa sensation entirely foreign to her experience. Her heartbeat quickened whenever her thoughts drifted to Ambrose, a strange fluttering disrupting her usual iron control. It was as unsettling as it was inexplicable.


    Unable to resist, she stole a furtive glance toward where Ambrose sat conversing with his companions. His delicate profile, illuminated by the afternoon light, triggered another acceleration in her pulse. Quickly averting her gaze, she silently cursed the betrayal of her own body.


    Get a grip, Athena. You¡¯ve stared down wyverns without flinching. This boy is just... just...


    Her thoughts scattered as she risked another glance. And then another. Each time, the strange sensation intensified, her warrior¡¯s composure crumbling further.


    During one such stolen look, her eyes unexpectedly met Ambrose¡¯s. Rather than looking away, he smiled directly at her¡ªa gentle expression that somehow pierced through her defenses more effectively than any blade. Heat rushed to her face with such intensity that she wondered if her skin might actually ignite. She jerked her gaze away, staring fixedly at the pattern in the marble floor as though it contained vital battlefield intelligence.


    What are you doing? She berated herself. You are the person who will inherit the War Goddess title! How could you be afraid of looking someone in the eyes? The thought of Celestia Lancaster, her lifelong idol, witnessing such weakness made her cringe inwardly. Yet despite her self-admonishment, she couldn¡¯t summon the courage to meet his gaze again.


    As she wrestled with this internal conflict, a shadow fell across her downturned face. She tensed instinctively, years of combat training instantly alerting her to the presence. Slowly, she raised her eyes.


    Ambrose stood before her, closer than she expected. She looked up slightly to meet his eyes.


    "Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle. There was genuine concern in his tone, devoid of the condescension she typically heard from nobles.


    The direct question and the intensity of his gaze sent another wave of unfamiliar sensations cascading through her. Somewhere in her mind, the warrior princess insisted she should maintain eye contact¡ªbacking down from a simple conversation would dishonor everything she stood for. Yet her gaze slid away of its own accord, seeking refuge in the safer territory of the middle distance.


    She managed a slight head shake and forced words past the strange tightness in her throat. "No-nothing is wrong," she stammered, immediately wincing at her own faltering voice.


    What¡¯s wrong with him? she wondered desperately. She had already responded, yet she could still feel his gaze on her, patient and undemanding. A wild thought suddenly occurred to her¡ªcould he be interested in...? But before she could complete the thought, he spoke again.


    "We¡¯re leaving, aren¡¯t you coming?" Ambrose asked simply.


    "Huh?" The question pulled her back to reality with jarring force. Like a lightning bolt striking her consciousness, she suddenly remembered her assigned duty¡ªshe was supposed to be guarding them, not sitting in corners having an existential crisis.


    Recalling her purpose restored some measure of her usual discipline. She shot to her feet, assuming an almost military posture of attention. "Ah, yes! Let¡¯s go," she declared, her voice overly formal and several notches too loud for the setting.


    Ambrose¡¯s soft chuckle in response sent another traitorous blush spreading across her cheeks. He turned away, walking toward his companions who waited by the entrance. Even his walk was elegant¡ªlacking the swagger of nobility but possessing a thoughtful grace all its own.


    As Ambrose rejoined his group, he pondered the princess¡¯s responses. Is the skill really that effective? Even against someone of her caliber? Though her personality type perfectly matched the conditions for maximum effect from his Vulnerable Charm skill, he hadn¡¯t anticipated such a dramatic transformation. The fierce warrior had become almost a different person entirely in his presence.


    Could a natural-ranked skill truly hold such power? he wondered, fascinated by the scene unfolding before him.


    Princess Athena followed several paces behind, her warrior¡¯s stride faltering as her attention fixed on Ambrose¡¯s slender frame. She found herself drawn to details she would normally never notice¡ªthe delicate hands she had touched earlier, the elegant line of his back, the exposed vulnerability of his neck where fine hair curled slightly at the nape.


    Something shifted in her expression¡ªthe confusion and embarrassment giving way to something more primal. Her eyes narrowed, pupils dilating slightly as her breathing quickened. "I really, really, really want it," she murmured, almost inaudibly, stretching her arm toward Ambrose¡¯s unprotected back, fingers reaching with intent.


    Before she could make contact, her wrist was suddenly caught in a vice-like grip. The pressure was precise¡ªneither gentle nor unnecessarily brutal, but conveying unmistakable warning.


    "What do you think you¡¯re doing?"


    The cold question came from Sun Hualing, who had materialized beside her with startling speed. The maid¡¯s eyes locked onto Athena¡¯s with an intensity that would have given pause to seasoned warriors. It wasn¡¯t the deference a servant might show a princess, nor the caution a commoner might display toward royalty. It was the predator-to-predator recognition of territorial boundaries¡ªand a clear message that those boundaries had been tested.


    The death glare Hualing leveled at the princess carried an unmistakable promise: provide a satisfactory explanation, or blood would be shed¡ªroyal or not.

 Chapter 119: How It Works

    "What do you think you¡¯re doing?" Hualing¡¯s voice cut through the air like a blade as she maintained her vice-like grip on Athena¡¯s wrist. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, radiating a death glare that would have made lesser warriors tremble.


    Athena blinked rapidly, as though awakening from a deep trance. The fog that had clouded her mind moments before dissipated under Hualing¡¯s piercing gaze. She straightened her posture, some of her warrior¡¯s dignity returning as she met Hualing¡¯s hostile stare.


    "What are you talking about?" Athena countered, her voice stronger now, echoing her usual commanding tone. As she spoke, she became aware of a curious transformation within herself. The strange, overwhelming feeling that had compelled her to reach for Ambrose was receding, like a tide pulling back from shore. The intensity that had consumed her moments before was diminishing significantly.


    Almost involuntarily, her eyes darted toward Ambrose, and immediately the peculiar sensation flooded back¡ªthat inexplicable pull, that desperate need to be closer to him. The princess quickly averted her gaze, returning her attention to Hualing, whose killing intent was radiating in almost palpable waves.


    Interesting, Athena thought, as her analytical warrior¡¯s mind began piecing together the pattern. When confronted with Hualing¡¯s aggression¡ªwith the promise of combat and danger¡ªthe strange influence weakened considerably. Her natural battle instincts were overriding whatever spell had momentarily claimed her. Her fighting spirit was responding to Hualing¡¯s hostility, pushing back the unfamiliar emotions that had taken hold of her.


    "So that¡¯s how it is," Athena realized, a smile of understanding spreading across her face as the pieces fell into place. The warrior princess felt a measure of control returning¡ªthe thrill of potential combat was clearing her head, anchoring her to her true self.


    But her smile was gravely misinterpreted. To Hualing, that smile was nothing less than an admission of guilt¡ªa brazen confirmation of malicious intent toward her master. Without further questioning, without a moment¡¯s hesitation, Hualing released Athena¡¯s wrist and launched herself forward with lethal purpose.


    In Hualing¡¯s mind, the situation was crystal clear: this woman was a threat to her master and needed to be eliminated. She had observed the way the princess stared at Ambrose¡ªhad timed the inappropriate handhold at exactly 12.8 seconds¡ªfar beyond what propriety allowed. Such transgressions could not be tolerated. They demanded retribution.


    A crimson dagger materialized between Hualing¡¯s fingers as she closed the distance between them with frightening speed. Her target was precise¡ªthe neck, for a clean killing blow. No hesitation, no mercy for those who threatened what was hers to protect.


    Athena recognized the deadly intent instantly, her battle-honed reflexes responding automatically. Her body shifted into a perfect combat stance, power gathering in her fist as she prepared to intercept the attack. Her eyes locked with Hualing¡¯s, both fighters radiating deadly focus as they closed the remaining distance, their attacks mere moments from collision.


    The clash of these two formidable warriors would have been spectacular¡ªperhaps catastrophic¡ªhad it occurred. But before their attacks could meet, a strange sensation washed over them both. A momentary dizziness, a shift in perception, and suddenly the world around them seemed to warp and distort.


    In the next heartbeat, Hualing found herself across the room, her momentum carrying her forward as her crimson dagger plunged through the thick stone wall as though it were parchment. The solid stone crumbled around her weapon, leaving a perfect hole where her strike had landed.


    On the opposite side of the chamber, Athena stood in similar confusion, now outside the building entirely. The wall before her had been completely obliterated by the force of her uncompleted attack. But her thoughts weren¡¯t focused on the destruction. She was struggling to process what had just happened¡ªa spatial manipulation so swift and precise that she hadn¡¯t been able to resist or even react to it.


    She turned around sharply, scanning the area with tactical precision. Her eyes immediately found Ambrose several meters away, suddenly dropping to one knee, his face pale with exertion. As she looked at him, that same inexplicable feeling surged through her again, compelling her forward. She rushed toward him with genuine concern, but someone else reached him first.


    "Master! Are you okay?" Hualing was already there, supporting Ambrose as he struggled to regain his footing. His breathing was slightly labored, his expression strained.


    Ambrose leaned on Hualing¡¯s shoulder, mentally chastising himself for his miscalculation. Teleporting an S-rank fighter like Athena had extracted a far greater toll than anticipated. Nearly half his mental strength had vanished in that single effort, leaving him momentarily disoriented and weak. The small spell of dizziness was a clear warning sign that he had overextended himself.


    As Athena approached, her mind worked to make sense of what had happened. Had Ambrose himself performed that spatial manipulation? No, that couldn¡¯t be possible. Someone with his frail physique couldn¡¯t possibly command such power. He must have activated some kind of spatial treasure¡ªthat explanation made far more logical sense to her warrior¡¯s mind.


    Yet, regardless of the cause, the strange feeling in her heart compelled her to check on his wellbeing. "Are you o¡ª" she began, stepping closer.


    "Stay away from the master!" Hualing cut her off sharply, her voice carrying a clear threat. "Look what you made him do!"


    Athena blinked in confusion. "Weren¡¯t you the one who attacked first?" she pointed out, her logical mind struggling against Hualing¡¯s twisted reasoning.


    But Hualing wasn¡¯t interested in logic or fairness. Her priority was singular and absolute. "You wanted to touch the master," she declared with righteous conviction. "You should have just accepted your death with honor."


    The princess was taken aback by the sheer irrationality of the statement. How did that reasoning make any sense? She opened her mouth to retort, but Ambrose intervened before she could speak.


    "Stop it!" His command, though soft, carried surprising authority. Hualing looked up at him with an expression of wounded innocence, as though she were the one who had been wronged.


    "But master..." she began to protest.


    Ambrose silenced her with a gentle pat on the head, his touch soothing her agitation like magic. "It¡¯s okay. I know you were just looking out for me," he acknowledged, validating her protective instinct while redirecting her behavior.


    "Then..." Hualing started again, but Ambrose gently cut her off.


    "But you shouldn¡¯t just randomly attack the princess," he continued, his voice maintaining that calm, reasonable tone that seemed to gradually disarm Hualing¡¯s aggression. "I¡¯m sure the princess wouldn¡¯t want to harm me." His eyes flickered briefly to Athena before returning to Hualing. "And even if she wanted to, we wouldn¡¯t be able to resist."


    He turned toward Athena, his intelligent eyes meeting hers directly. "Did you want to harm me?" he asked simply.


    The question triggered another wave of that strange influence, and Athena found herself vigorously shaking her head, unable to even contemplate causing him harm. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "See?" Ambrose turned back to Hualing, his point effectively made. The maid seemed partially appeased, though suspicion still lingered in her eyes as she glanced between Ambrose and the princess.


    "Come on, it¡¯s getting late," Ambrose said, changing the subject with practiced diplomacy. "Why don¡¯t we go do what we came here to do?" The suggestion immediately refocused the group, drawing their attention away from the conflict and back to their purpose in the capital.


    The others nodded in agreement, eager to move past the tense confrontation.


    Standing slightly apart from the others, Liu Meihua observed the entire exchange with analytical interest. Her perceptive eyes missed nothing¡ªnot the princess¡¯s confused reactions, not Hualing¡¯s fierce protectiveness, and certainly not Ambrose¡¯s subtle manipulation of the situation. A small, knowing smile curved her lips as pieces of a puzzle clicked into place.


    "So that¡¯s how that skill works," she thought to herself, adding another valuable insight to her growing understanding of Ambrose¡¯s abilities. The charm skill was certainly more potent than she had initially estimated¡ªcapable of affecting even someone of Athena¡¯s caliber. This was information worth remembering.


    ¡­


    In the dimly lit chamber, figures shrouded in identical black cloaks formed a crescent around a solitary figure seated on an ornate chair, separate from the others. The walls bore intricate maps of Lumina¡¯s capital, dotted with annotations marking entry points, patrol routes, and potential escape paths. The rooster-masked leader sat motionless, his crimson and gold mask catching the flickering torchlight.


    "Just as Sir Dragon said, the shadow guards have been recalled," the Rooster announced, his voice carrying through the silent room.


    A wave of satisfaction coursed through him. Sir Dragon¡¯s intelligence had proven flawless once again. Under his leadership, their dream of freedom seemed increasingly tangible. Memories of the past flashed through his mind but he quickly banished these distracting thoughts; sentimentality had no place in their mission.


    For Sir Dragon¡¯s efforts not to be wasted, I must ensure success.


    With sudden resolve, he rose from his seat. "Time to start moving," he commanded.


    The black-cloaked figures melted into the shadows one by one, their departures so swift and silent they seemed to simply cease existing rather than physically leave.


    When he stood alone in the empty chamber, Rooster adjusted his mask. "Guess I should make my move too," he murmured, stepping toward the exit, his footfalls leaving no echo as he vanished into the darkness.

 Chapter 120 120: Acting

    Nurse Elena stood alone in front of the small metal cabinet in the underground warehouse. With methodical care, she began to remove her dominatrix outfit¡ªblack leather straps and buckles sliding off her skin piece by piece. Her face remained completely expressionless throughout this ritual, as though disconnecting herself from the persona she had just embodied. She folded each item with precision before placing them gently to the side, a strange reverence in her movements.


    The underground space remained silent save for the soft rustle of fabric and the distant drip of water from somewhere in the facility. There was also the random howling and growling but she had trained herself not to hear it. Elena moved toward the small shower room adjacent to the cabinet, her bare feet leaving behind faint impressions on the cold concrete floor. The sound of running water soon filled the space as steam began to escape from the partially open door.


    Inside, Elena scrubbed her skin thoroughly, washing away what she considered "dirt"¡ªnot just physical grime, but the psychological residue of her work. The hot water cascaded over her body, carrying away evidence of her other self down the drain in swirling eddies.


    After completing her cleansing ritual, Elena returned to the cabinet room, water droplets still clinging to her skin. She approached the metal suitcase resting on a small table and unlatched it with a soft click. Inside lay her neatly folded nurse''s uniform¡ªthe pristine white fabric a stark contrast to the black leather she had discarded. She dressed methodically, buttoning each element of her uniform with careful precision, transforming herself with each piece.


    When finished, Elena turned toward the reflective metal surface of the cabinet door. She examined her reflection closely, searching for any trace of her other self. A smile slowly spread across her face¡ªnot the gentle, caring smile of a school nurse, but something twisted and sadistic. Her eyes gleamed with a predatory light that would have terrified her students had they witnessed it.


    Elena placed her hands over her face, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. For several seconds, she remained perfectly still, as though engaged in some internal ritual of transformation. When she finally removed her hands and opened her eyes, she released a small, deliberate sigh. Looking once more at her reflection, she attempted another smile. This time, the expression had completely transformed¡ªwarm, soothing, caring. The perfect smile for the trusted school nurse, designed to put worried students at ease.


    "It never ceases to amaze me how you can just do that."


    The unexpected voice shattered the silence, causing Elena to flinch slightly. She turned slowly, composure quickly recovered despite the surprise.


    "Principal?" she inquired, immediately adopting a deferential posture.


    Principal Cassandra Blackvale stood in the doorway, her imposing figure framed by the dim lighting of the corridor behind her. Her eyes held a mix of curiosity and something else as she observed her subordinate.


    "Well, it''s my talent so I''m used to it," Elena responded with practiced humility. After a moment''s pause, she added, "Anyway, why are you here?"


    Cassandra stepped further into the room, her movements graceful despite her intimidating presence. "Just thought I''d come see you at work." Her tone shifted, becoming lower and tinged with regret. "Too bad I missed it."


    The principal''s eyes studied Elena intensely, searching for a reaction to her words. When Elena''s expression remained neutral, Cassandra changed tactics. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Have you gotten any useful information from the spies?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual.


    Elena shook her head slightly. "Not really," she admitted. "I''ve tried many things, but they''re not budging. I think they''re just decoys without any real information."


    "Or maybe they''re just acting," Cassandra suggested pointedly, emphasizing the word "acting" with deliberate force.


    Elena remained silent, the silence hanging heavily in the air between them. The uncomfortable moment stretched until Cassandra decided to release the tension.


    "Well, get on with your duties. I don''t want to keep you," she said, her voice returning to its normal authoritative tone.


    "Thanks!" Elena bowed slightly before walking past the principal and out the door.


    Cassandra remained motionless, listening as Elena''s footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Only when complete silence had returned did she speak more to herself than anyone.


    "Acting, huh," she murmured contemplatively.


    In the next instant, Cassandra vanished¡ªher form blurring momentarily before disappearing completely.


    She reappeared outside a metal cage tucked away in another section of the underground facility. Inside, three figures huddled together on the filthy floor. Their clothes were tattered and stained with dried blood, the fabric torn in places to reveal angry red welts from repeated whippings.


    At her sudden appearance, the Xian spies jerked in terror, pressing themselves against the far wall of their prison. They huddled together, shoulders touching as they trembled uncontrollably. Even their teeth chattered audibly in the silent chamber, their fear so palpable it seemed to saturate the air.


    Cassandra observed them dispassionately, noting every tremor, every whimper, every sign of genuine terror. After several long seconds of assessment, she spoke softly to herself.


    "Maybe I''m just overthinking it."


    With that admission, she vanished once more, leaving the terrified prisoners alone in their misery, unaware they had just been evaluated by a far more dangerous predator than Nurse Elena.


    ¡­


    In the academy''s underground warehouse, the damp, musty air hung heavy with the scent of rust and lingering fear. Akira, Ruohan, and Min-jae lay sprawled across the cold stone floor of their prison cell, their bodies still trembling from their most recent session with the woman they had come to call "the crazy lady." None of them knew her real name¡ªshe never spoke during her visits, preferring to let her whip do the talking.


    Blood trickled from fresh welts that crisscrossed their backs, joining the constellation of partially healed scars from previous sessions. Despite the excruciating pain, they had grown familiar enough with their captivity to recognize the patterns in her behavior. Today''s session had been particularly lengthy, which usually meant only one thing.


    "I think... I think she left us a message," Akira whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming. The Xian spy was once an elegant imperial spy who had passed his exams with flying colors. Now, with his face gaunt and hair matted with sweat and blood, he barely resembled the confident operative he had been weeks ago.


    Ruohan, the female spy whose graceful features had become hollow from their ordeal, nodded weakly. "When it lasts a long time¡­she always leaves something." She winced as she attempted to sit up, her torn clothing sticking to the fresh wounds.


    "Let''s decipher it quickly," Min-jae suggested, his usually stoic demeanor breaking under the weight of their imprisonment. "If there''s important information, it might finally be our ticket out of here."


    The three agents had long ago realized their torturer was paradoxically their ally. The seemingly random pattern of whip marks actually formed coded messages¡ªwell, sometimes. She didn''t always bring information with her whenever she visited, but she sure does bring a beating whenever she visits.


    "Why couldn''t she just slip us a note?" Min-jae muttered, not for the first time. "Or whisper the information? Does she actually enjoy this?"


    Before they could begin examining each other''s wounds for the hidden message, a displacement in the air outside their cell caused all three to freeze. Someone had materialized just beyond the bars¡ªappearing out of nowhere with a speed and silence that defied natural movement.


    Terror seized their hearts. Had the crazy woman returned so soon? They hadn''t even recovered from the last session. Acting on instinct honed through weeks of captivity, they huddled together, pressing their bodies into a tight formation against the cell wall. Their eyes squeezed shut, teeth chattering uncontrollably as they trembled in unified fear.


    Don''t look at her. Don''t draw attention. Maybe she''s just passing by, Akira thought desperately. They had learned through painful experience that making eye contact sometimes triggered additional "sessions." On her patrol rounds, the crazy lady seemed to select her victims based on who caught her attention first.


    Seconds stretched into an eternity as they cowered together, waiting for the sound of the cell door opening, for the whistle of the whip cutting through air. The only sounds in the chamber were their shallow, panicked breathing and the faint dripping of water from somewhere in the distance.


    When several moments passed without the expected violence, Min-jae cautiously cracked one eye open. The figure was gone, vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. A collective sigh of relief escaped from the three spies.


    "She must have forgotten something and come back for it," Ruohan whispered, her body still trembling. "Thank the ancestors she didn''t notice us."


    "Or maybe she just wanted to check on us," Akira suggested, though none of them believed the crazy lady capable of such normal concern.


    With the immediate threat gone, they returned to their original task. With gentle, pained movements, they examined each other''s backs, cataloging each welt and cut, mentally translating the patterns into the cipher they had been trained to recognize.


    "This mark here connects to this one," Ruohan noted, tracing a finger near but not touching one of Akira''s bleeding wounds. "And the depth pattern on Min-jae''s shoulder completes the sequence."


    For nearly an hour, they methodically reconstructed the hidden communication, combining the marks spread across their three bodies into a complete message. Once assembled, they still needed to decrypt it using the code keys they had memorized during their training.


    Finally, Akira sat back, his expression grim. "This one says that our plan will be put on hold for now," he announced, his voice flat with disappointment.


    The news hit them like a physical blow. Their hearts sank collectively as the implications settled in. The plan was their only hope for escape from this underground hell. They had endured the daily torture sessions, the humiliation, the pain, all while clinging to the promise that their suffering would soon end.


    "On hold? For how long?" Min-jae asked, desperation creeping into his voice.


    "It doesn''t say," Ruohan replied after double-checking the decoded message. "Just... on hold."


    They fell into a despondent silence, each contemplating the same bleak question: how many more sessions with the crazy lady would they have to endure before freedom? How many more times would their bodies be torn open, only to heal just enough for the process to begin again?

 Chapter 121 121: Heroes Association

    The grand avenues of Lumina Crown bustled with activity as Ambrose and his companions made their way through the capital. Merchants hawked their wares from colorful stalls, their voices rising above the general din of conversation. Citizens of all classes mingled in the streets¡ªnobles in fine silks brushing shoulders with laborers in simple tunics, all participating in the vibrant tapestry of city life. Coin exchanged hands in countless transactions, the lifeblood of commerce flowing through the kingdom''s heart.


    Princess Athena trailed behind the group, her warrior''s gait measured and attentive despite the distracting tumult of her thoughts. Her eyes remained fixed on Ambrose''s slender frame as he navigated through the crowded marketplace, seemingly unbothered by the press of bodies that would have overwhelmed someone of his delicate constitution.


    Dammit, he must have done something to me, she thought, pressing her fingertips against her temple. The sensation was maddening¡ªlike an itch beneath her skin that she couldn''t scratch. Something was interfering with her thoughts, clouding her judgment, yet the more she tried to grasp the nature of this influence, the more elusive it became. Her warrior''s instinct screamed that magic was at play, but what manner of enchantment could affect her so subtly yet profoundly?


    After traversing several main thoroughfares and winding side streets, the cobblestone path opened to reveal their destination¡ªa majestic structure that dominated the surrounding architecture. The building rose in graceful tiers of white marble and gold trim, its fa?ade adorned with statues of legendary heroes caught in moments of triumph. Above its massive double doors, ornate lettering proclaimed: "Heroes Association."


    The group halted collectively, taking in the impressive sight before them. The Heroes Association stood as an institution separate from royal authority or noble influence¡ªa global organization dedicated to governing those gifted individuals who chose to use their talents for the greater good. While branches existed across the continent, this headquarters in Avaloria''s capital represented the pinnacle of the organization''s presence in the kingdom.


    Adelaide stepped forward with practiced confidence, approaching the armored guard who stood at attention beside the entrance. Though the others couldn''t hear the exchange, they observed the guard''s expression shift from stern professionalism to surprised recognition. After a brief conversation, Adelaide returned to the group and leaned close to Ambrose, whispering information directly into his ear.


    Ambrose nodded, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. "Let''s go in," he announced to the group, his voice calm and measured.


    They passed through the ornate entrance into a grand foyer that seemed designed to impress even the most jaded visitor. Chandelier crystals scattered rainbow prisms across marble floors polished to mirror-like perfection. Tapestries depicting famous battles hung between columns of veined marble, while display cases showcased artifacts from legendary quests. Gold and silver accents caught the light from tall windows, creating an atmosphere of opulent grandeur that spoke volumes about the association''s wealth and influence.


    Even Ambrose, despite his analytical nature, found himself momentarily captivated by the surroundings. He had brought his party members here with dual purpose: his party needed hero licenses to legally raid dungeons and hunt monsters outside the academy''s curriculum, though he could have just visited a nearby branch and gotten the licenses, he saw this as an opportunity to reward their hard work with a trip to the capital. It also provided him a chance to experience the city without his Rational Mind skill suppressing his thoughts as this was a valid reason.1


    As they stood admiring the magnificent interior, a young woman approached. Her uniform¡ªa tailored ensemble in the association''s colors of navy and gold¡ªmarked her as an official guide. With a practiced smile and graceful bow, she welcomed them and beckoned them to follow deeper into the building.


    "This way, please," she said, leading them down a corridor lined with portraits of past heroes.


    As they progressed through suspiciously empty halls, the party exchanged puzzled glances. The absence of other applicants or association members became increasingly conspicuous.


    Even Princess Athena found herself surprised by this unusual treatment. The association had apparently cleared the entire building for Ambrose''s party¡ªan honor typically reserved for dignitaries of the highest rank. Only someone like my father would receive such treatment, she thought with growing bewilderment. Do they consider the Rothschild heir equal to royalty?


    A more cynical thought followed: this arrangement conveniently solved a security dilemma for the royal family. With the building cleared, they could ensure the safety of the Rothschild heir without deploying an obvious protective detail, thus preventing any potential disaster that might strain relations between the crown and the northern dukedom.


    Athena shook her head in frustration, her hair swaying with the motion. Politics was an endlessly tangled web she had never wished to navigate. Her desires were straightforward¡ªto face enemies with blade in hand, to earn glory through honest combat. These complex power dynamics and diplomatic considerations only served to irritate her warrior''s sensibilities.


    After traversing several more corridors and ascending a grand staircase, they arrived at their destination. The guide gestured toward a set of heavy double doors, which swung open at their approach.


    "The testing chamber," she announced with another practiced smile.


    The space beyond resembled a vast training arena more than a simple room. Various weights and exercise equipment lined one wall, while sophisticated magical testing apparatus occupied another. The polished wooden floor bore countless scuff marks from previous assessments, silent testimony to the countless aspiring heroes who had proven their worth in this very space.


    The guide stepped toward a particularly complex device in the center of the room¡ªa crystalline structure mounted on a pedestal, surrounded by arcane symbols etched into the floor. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''ll need to undergo a test before you can receive your hero licenses," she explained, gesturing toward the apparatus. "This will measure not only your physical capabilities but also your mental aptitude and magical potential, therefore working for both combat and non-combat types"


    Her hand swept across the device, causing the crystals to glow with inner light. "Who would like to go first?" she asked.


    A/N - Check Chapter 13: Entrance Exam [PART 1]

 Chapter 122 122: I’ll Do It

    Marcus watched the testing apparatus with newfound interest as his mind processed the revelation. So this was the "surprise" the young master had mentioned¡ªhero licenses. The realization filled him with unexpected excitement. Under normal circumstances, obtaining such credentials required either graduating from a magic academy, a process that could take years, or navigating equally complicated alternative paths involving recommendations and sponsorships.


    Yet here they stood, about to receive licenses with seemingly minimal effort. This is the power of the Rothschild name, Marcus thought, a mixture of awe and gratitude washing over him. The young master''s simple word had opened a door that would have remained firmly closed to someone of Marcus''s background.


    His mind raced through the possibilities this license would unlock. Throughout his regression, he had accumulated knowledge of numerous untapped dungeons brimming with treasures¡ªartifacts and resources that could accelerate his growth tremendously. Without proper authorization, attempting to raid these locations would have branded him an illegal dungeon diver, risking imprisonment or worse. Now, those restrictions would fall away like autumn leaves.


    Marcus could feel his advancement approaching a plateau. His Top Level Sword Intent talent had brought him far, but to truly break through to the next stage and overcome his previous self, he needed the resources these dungeons contained. Special herbs to temper his body, ancient scrolls to deepen his understanding, perhaps even legendary weapons to complement his swordsmanship.


    Glancing around, he noticed the hesitation among his companions. No one seemed eager to step forward as the first test subject. That was to be expected as the testing equipment looked really intimidating, but for someone like Marcus who had done this before, he wasn''t bothered. With a decisive inhale, Marcus stepped ahead of the group. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''ll do it," he announced, his voice carrying more enthusiasm than he''d intended to reveal.


    The guide smiled professionally and approached the crystalline apparatus. "Please place your hand here," she instructed, pointing to a flat panel on the device''s surface. "Focus your mind and allow your energy to flow naturally. The machine will do the rest."


    Though Marcus was already familiar with similar testing procedures from his previous life, he feigned ignorance, nodding attentively to her instructions. No need to raise questions about how a supposed commoner would have prior knowledge of advanced association equipment.


    Following her directions, he placed his palm against the cool surface. The crystal immediately pulsed with light, sending ribbons of luminescence spiraling up his arm and surrounding his body in a gentle glow. The sensation was peculiar¡ªlike being immersed in warm water while simultaneously experiencing a mild electrical current flowing through every nerve.


    After several moments, the light receded, and the machine emitted a soft chime. The guide studied the glowing symbols that appeared above the crystal, her expression revealing nothing.


    "A C-rank agility-type with a Top-Level Sword Intent Talent," she announced in a clear, professional tone.


    Her fingers danced across a separate control panel with practiced efficiency. A soft humming filled the air as the machine processed the information. Moments later, a slot opened in the device''s base, and a small card emerged¡ªa hero license, complete with Marcus''s image and personal details engraved in magical ink that seemed to shimmer with inner light.


    Marcus accepted the card with carefully measured reverence, turning it over in his hands to examine every detail. The weight of it¡ªso light physically, yet so heavy with implications¡ªfilled him with profound satisfaction. This small rectangle of enchanted material represented more than just legal permission to hunt monsters; it was freedom, opportunity, and a massive acceleration of his plans.


    I made the right choice following the young master that day, he thought, recalling their first encounter with crystal clarity. The path ahead now opened wide before him, brimming with possibilities that were previously mere fantasies.


    Liu Meihua stepped forward next, her observant eyes catching Marcus''s poorly concealed excitement. He must be mentally cataloging all the treasures he can now claim, she thought with internal amusement. Having knowledge from the original storyline, she was aware of even more valuable locations and artifacts than Marcus could possibly know. Yet her reaction lacked his enthusiasm¡ªfor different reasons.


    As an intelligence-type with minimal combat capabilities, Meihua couldn''t simply march into dangerous dungeons alone to claim treasures. She recalled her previous expedition when she''d relied on Hualing''s protection to acquire a particular item. Such arrangements couldn''t become regular occurrences; everyone had their priorities.


    Still, Meihua remained pragmatic about her situation. Being part of Ambrose''s party meant joining collective raids where Marcus would inevitably claim combat-oriented treasures. She could content herself with items the others deemed unnecessary¡ªmagical tomes, magic devices, or intelligence-enhancing artifacts that combatants might overlook.


    Her only potential competition would be Ambrose himself, who shared her intelligence specialization. Yet she suspected the Rothschild heir, with his vast family resources, would have little interest in what she would consider valuable finds. Why would someone who could buy entire merchant caravans begrudge a poor transmigrator like me a few magical trinkets? she reasoned, a slight smile playing at her lips.


    Lost in these calculations, Meihua barely noticed when the testing apparatus completed its assessment. The crystal''s light faded, and the guide''s voice cut through her thoughts.


    "A B-rank intelligence-type with a Mythical-Level Calculation Talent," the woman announced, her tone revealing a hint of impressed surprise despite her professional demeanor.


    The testing machine hummed and processed this information, producing another license card with Meihua''s details emblazoned upon its surface. As Meihua accepted her license card, the cool material smooth beneath her fingertips, she turned to rejoin the group. The sudden silence registered before she fully processed their expressions¡ªwide eyes fixed directly on her.


    Oh no. A cold realization washed over her. In her eagerness to increase her strength, she had revealed too much of her capabilities. B-rank at their age was rare enough, but paired with a Mythical-Level talent? Her heart accelerated as paranoia bloomed. Had she just exposed herself? Would they be suspicious of her?


    Forcing a nervous smile, she quickly looked down, concealing the panic in her eyes.

 Chapter 123 123: Association Chairman

    The testing chamber fell silent as all eyes fixed on Liu Meihua. The crystalline apparatus dimmed, its assessment complete, leaving behind an echo of the guide''s words hanging in the air: "A B-rank intelligence-type with a Mythical-Level Calculation Talent."


    Marcus stared at Meihua, his jaw slackening with undisguised shock. His mind raced to process this revelation. In his original timeline, Meihua had never appeared¡ªher existence alone represented a deviation from the future he remembered. Initially, he''d dismissed her as an inconsequential alteration in the flow of events, but this shattering revelation forced him to reconsider everything.


    A Mythical-ranked talent? That alone had been difficult enough to reconcile. But now this¡ªa B-rank advancement at her age, she was progressing even faster than him despite him being a combat-type and a regressor. The disparity seemed impossible, defying the natural order of advancement he understood.


    She''s an intelligence-type, yet she''s advancing faster than me, a combat specialist, Marcus thought, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his freshly-issued license. What''s happening here? How is this possible?


    His gaze shifted to Ambrose, searching for a reaction, but the Rothschild heir''s expression remained unchanged¡ªnot a flicker of surprise disturbed his composed features. Did he already know? Has he been helping her somehow? The questions multiplied in Marcus''s mind like ripples in a disturbed pond.


    Adelaide''s expression mirrored Marcus''s astonishment, her merchant''s composure momentarily shattered by the unexpected development. She had always seen Meihua as just someone who lazied around with nothing else going for her except for her talent, she hadn''t expected her to be such a genius.


    In stark contrast, Hualing remained utterly unbothered, her attention fixed firmly on Ambrose as always. Whatever concerns occupied the others held no interest for her; her master''s reaction was all that mattered, and if he wasn''t surprised, neither was she.


    Princess Athena''s shock perhaps surpassed them all. Her warrior''s pride, already wounded by her inexplicable reactions to Ambrose, suffered another blow as she processed Meihua''s results. She had dismissed this entire excursion as a frivolous adventure¡ªjust a kid''s whim to acquire licenses for low-level dungeon exploration. Marcus''s C-rank had surprised her, certainly, but remained within the bounds of exceptional rather than impossible.


    But this? A B-rank girl with a Mythical-grade talent? Athena herself bore the same talent grade, but she was a princess who had trained relentlessly since childhood under the kingdom''s finest instructors. To find a civilian academy student who reached such a level shook the foundations of her understanding.


    Is reaching such levels common nowadays? she wondered.


    The tension dissipated somewhat when Adelaide approached the testing apparatus next. The guide, having regained her professional composure, announced the results with practiced neutrality: "A C-rank intelligence-type with a Top-Level Accounting Talent."


    Athena exhaled slowly as Adelaide received her license card. At least that''s more reasonable, she thought, the tightness in her chest easing slightly. Perhaps the other girl was simply an anomaly.


    As the testing proceeded, only two members of the party remained¡ªAmbrose himself and his ever-present shadow, Hualing. The guide''s confidence faltered visibly as she confronted her dilemma. Standard protocol required testing for license issuance, yet testing the Rothschild heir seemed presumptuous, perhaps even dangerous. As the Rothschild heir, his information was most likely classified at the highest levels, and the personal knight of a Rothschild would similarly fall under protected status.


    The guide fidgeted with her uniform, her eyes darting nervously between the remaining participants and the testing apparatus. Would the young master consider it an insult if she didn''t offer him a card? Would he be offended if she suggested he undergo the standard testing procedure? Her professional training hadn''t prepared her for this diplomatic minefield.


    As her internal panic mounted, a confident voice cut through the chamber''s uncomfortable silence.


    "My sincerest apologies for the delayed welcome, Young Master Rothschild. Had I known the heir of House Rothschild would grace our humble establishment today, I would have been waiting at the entrance personally."


    ¡­


    The deep, authoritative voice reverberated through the testing chamber, commanding immediate attention. All heads turned toward its source ¨C a towering figure striding purposefully through the doorway. The man''s impressive physique dominated the space, his broad shoulders and powerful frame clad in the distinct navy and gold uniform. His muscles rippled with each deliberate movement. A network of faint scars were visible on his exposed forearms.


    "Chairman?" the guide whispered, her professional composure momentarily fracturing in the presence of such an unexpected arrival.


    The man placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he passed, his touch gentle despite his intimidating presence. "You can go back now. I''ll take it from here," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for discussion.


    Marcus''s eyes widened with recognition, his breath catching in his throat. The Association Chairman himself? The legendary warrior whose exploits during the war in his previous life had been documented in countless historical texts stood mere feet away. Though the chairman had never earned an official title like Athena''s, his contributions to the kingdom''s defense were no less significant.


    The chairman approached Ambrose directly, extending a weathered hand in greeting. "Young Master Rothschild," he acknowledged with respectful familiarity.


    Ambrose accepted the handshake, as he stretched out his hand, he activated his Mind''s Eye ability:


    [Name: Darius Stormcrest]


    [Level: SSS]


    [Talent: ???(???)]


    [Health: ???]


    [Mana: ???]


    [Strength: ???]


    [Stamina: ???]


    [Agility: ???]


    Surprise flickered across Ambrose''s features, carefully concealed beneath his practiced neutral expression. This was the second time his Mind''s Eye ability had failed to reveal comprehensive statistics¡ªthe first being his encounter with the Sin in the entrance dungeon. Though he could theoretically expend additional mental strength to pierce deeper, he suspected the revealed information would remain obfuscated, possibly appearing as meaningless symbols or figures.


    What''s the point? he reasoned, he was already so strong, what difference would it make if he knew his exact stats. Since he already knew how stats were calculated, Ambrose could easily calculate the approximate stats for someone at the SSS level.


    Chairman Darius maintained the handshake a moment longer than strictly necessary, his weathered face settling into an expression of diplomatic regret. "Young master, although we are honored to have you here today, I''m afraid we cannot fulfill your request," he stated plainly.


    Confusion registered briefly in Ambrose''s eyes before Darius continued his explanation.


    "Since you are the Rothschild heir, it wouldn''t be appropriate for you to be associated with the Heroes Association," the chairman clarified, his gaze shifting momentarily to Hualing''s vigilant form before adding, "and that applies to your knight as well."


    A flicker of disappointment crossed Ambrose''s features. The reasoning made perfect sense¡ªthe Heroes Association exercised considerable authority over licensed heros, creating potential conflicts of interest for noble houses. Their independence needed to remain uncompromised, particularly for families as powerful as the Rothschilds. Still, the practical implications were inconvenient; without licenses, their dungeon-raiding plans would be significantly hampered.


    Darius, noticing Ambrose''s subtle reaction, quickly offered an alternative. "But there is no need to worry, you can still raid dungeons," he assured with a confident smile.


    "I can?" Ambrose''s surprise manifested in his voice, genuinely caught off-guard by this unexpected concession.


    The chairman gestured toward Princess Athena standing several paces behind them. "Just like the princess, you can receive a dungeon pass that functions identically to our licenses. It grants the same access privileges without binding you to Association authority or regulations."


    Understanding dawned on Ambrose instantly. Of course. The solution was elegantly practical¡ªhow else would members of powerful houses participate in dungeon raiding? Their pride and position would never permit them to subject themselves to an organization''s authority, yet their ambitions would demand access to the resources and experiences dungeons provided. The pass system neatly resolved this contradiction, maintaining the delicate balance of power between nobles and the Association. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Then I''ll have to thank you for that," Ambrose acknowledged.


    Darius responded with hearty laughter that filled the chamber. "Hahaha! It''s no problem at all," he assured, moving toward the crystalline testing apparatus with practiced familiarity.


    His fingers danced across the control panel in a complex sequence, bypassing standard protocols with the authority his position granted. Within moments, two cards emerged from the machine''s base¡ªpasses rather than licenses, but serving identical practical functions. Ambrose accepted both cards, deliberately keeping Hualing''s rather than handing it to her directly. He didn''t know what she would do with it so it was better to just keep it for her.


    Examining the passes, Ambrose noted they appeared nearly identical to the licenses his companions had received, distinguished only by subtle variations in the embossed symbols and the absence of some information. He slipped both cards into his spatial storage pocket, mentally checking this task off their agenda.


    That''s one objective completed, he thought, contemplating their next move. Should we return immediately, or take the opportunity to explore the capital further? The rare chance to experience Lumina Crown seemed too valuable to waste.


    Before he could complete his deliberation, a thunderous explosion shattered his thoughts. The entire building shuddered violently, dust cascading from the ornate ceiling as tremors rippled through the stone foundation. The atmospheric pressure shifted perceptibly as distant screams penetrated the thick walls.


    The testing chamber door burst open as the guide stumbled back in, her face pale with fear, clothing disheveled from her desperate sprint.


    "What happened?" Chairman Darius demanded, his casual demeanor instantly replaced by the commanding presence of a veteran warrior.


    "We''re under attack!" she managed between ragged breaths, her wide eyes reflecting genuine terror.


    ¡­


    [Name: Athena Lumina]


    [Level: S]


    [Talent: Battle Frenzy (Mythical)]


    [Health: ???]


    [Mana: ???]


    [Strength: ???]


    [Stamina: ???]


    [Agility: ???]

 Chapter 124 124: Under Attack

    The tranquility of Lumina''s grand entrance shattered in an instant. One moment, citizens flowed through the massive stone archway, merchants haggled with customers, and royal knights maintained their vigilant patrol¡ªthe next, chaos erupted as figures draped in black cloaks materialized seemingly from thin air, descending upon the unsuspecting populace with deadly intent.


    The knights reacted with military precision, their years of training manifesting in seamless coordination. Steel flashed in the afternoon sun as they formed defensive perimeters around clusters of terrified civilians, their voices rising above the panicked screams with clear, authoritative commands. "This way! Move toward the inner district!" they shouted, guiding people away from the violence while simultaneously engaging the mysterious attackers.


    Despite their discipline, knights began to fall. For every cloaked assailant cut down, another royal guard collapsed. Blood stained the cobblestones as the battle intensified, spreading from the entrance toward the heart of the capital. The ancient alarm bell began to toll¡ªits deep, resonant warning echoing through every street and alleyway, mobilizing the kingdom''s defenders.


    Within the royal palace, King Alexander received the disturbing news with growing concern. His brow furrowed deeply as the knight captain described the coordinated assault. "Who would dare launch such a brazen attack against the capital?" he wondered, his mind racing through potential enemies with both the motivation and resources for such an audacious move.


    Then, like a lightning bolt of realization, clarity struck him. His eyes widened with sudden understanding.


    "Oh no," he breathed, his voice barely audible before turning sharply to Sir Roland. "Where is the Rothschild heir?"


    "He''s currently at the Hero Association building, Your Majesty," Roland replied promptly, his expression grave.


    The king''s face drained of color. "It''s a distraction. Send forces to the Association building immediately!" His command cracked through the air like a whip.


    As if summoned by his words, a tremendous explosion shook the palace foundations. Through the tall windows, they witnessed a portion of the Hero Association''s western wall collapse in a cloud of dust and debris.


    "NOW!" the king roared, his composure shattering completely.


    Sir Roland bolted from the throne room, the weight of his armor seemingly forgotten as he sprinted through corridors and down staircases. Behind him, the king paced anxiously across the marble floor, the potential catastrophe unfolding in his mind. If harm befell the Rothschild heir while under royal protection, the consequences would be unimaginable.


    Racing through the besieged streets, Roland dispatched black-cloaked attackers with efficient brutality. His seasoned blade found gaps in their defenses, leaving a trail of fallen enemies in his wake. He soon encountered a contingent of his knights, their armor spattered with blood but their discipline intact.


    "Is everyone here?" he demanded, assessing their numbers.


    "No, sir! Some remain defending the entrance," reported one knight, his breath labored.


    Roland nodded tersely. "This number should suffice. Let''s move!"


    They advanced toward the Association building, the sounds of an intense battle growing louder with each step. Roland''s expression tightened with apprehension. The thunderous impacts and explosive energy discharges suggested a confrontation far beyond typical combat¡ªa clash of powers that ordinary knights might prove useless against.


    When they finally rounded the corner, the scene confirmed his fears. Chairman Darius Stormcrest, hurtled through the air like a discarded toy, crashing into the ground with enough force to shatter the street. The impact crater spread outward, fragments of cobblestone raining down around the fallen warrior.


    Roland stared in disbelief, momentarily frozen. The chairman¡ªone of the strongest people in the kingdom¡ªhad been struck down.


    But then, impossibly, the debris shifted. Massive stone fragments rose as Darius emerged from the wreckage, casually brushing dust from his shoulders. With deliberate movements, he rolled his neck, producing audible cracks, then calmly removed his tattered shirt to reveal a torso rippling with battle-hardened muscle.


    Noticing the knights'' arrival, the chairman acknowledged them with a nod. "Nice timing," he stated flatly, gesturing toward the opposite side of the damaged building. "Go help the princess."


    Following his direction, Roland spotted Ambrose''s group surrounded by black-cloaked figures, fighting desperately against the overwhelming numbers. At their center stood Princess Athena, her sword flashing like lightning as she carved through attackers, her royal training evident in every lethal movement.


    ¡­


    In the heart of the maelstrom, Ambrose maintained an eerie calm, his analytical mind continuing to process the chaos surrounding them despite the immediate danger. Hualing stood as his unwavering shadow, her body positioned with lethal precision to intercept any threat that dared approach her master. On his other flank, Princess Athena moved with practiced grace, her sword weaving intricate patterns of death through the air as she attacked the opponent.


    Bodies of fallen attackers already littered the ground around them, dark cloaks spread like pools of shadow across the cobblestones. Yet for every enemy cut down, two more seemed to materialize from the surrounding chaos, their numbers never diminishing despite the growing pile of their fallen comrades.


    "Is there no end to them?" Ambrose wondered, his eyes scanning the battlefield with calculated assessment rather than panic. The attackers'' persistence suggested organization and purpose beyond mere random violence.


    A particularly large assailant at the front of the pack released a guttural roar, the battle cry serving as a signal. Like a black tide, the cloaked figures surged forward in unison, initiating another wave of assault.


    Hualing catches the approaching attacker''s sword in her bare hand, the sharp blade slicing deep into her flesh with a sickening sound. Where others would scream in agony, her expression remains perfectly unchanged¡ªnot so much as a wince betrays the pain she must feel. The attacker''s eyes widen with unsettled disbelief at her inhuman composure.


    When they attempt to retrieve their weapon, they discover it locked in Hualing''s iron grip. Blood flows from her palm, but instead of dripping to the ground, it travels with unnatural purpose. The crimson liquid crawls along the metal, covering the blade in a rapidly spreading red coating. By the time understanding dawns in the attacker''s eyes, the transformation is complete.


    Without warning, vicious spikes erupt from the sword''s grip¡ªrazor-sharp projections of hardened blood that pierce through the attacker''s hands and forearms. Their agonized scream splits the air as blood pours from their impaled limbs, feeding Hualing''s growing crimson arsenal.


    With a subtle gesture, she commands the spilled blood, drawing it from the ground and from her enemies'' wounds. The liquid rises and coalesces into a massive, spinning disk of crystallized blood¡ªa crimson buzzsaw humming with deadly potential. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hualing swings this horrific creation in a wide arc, and the attackers caught in its path are simply obliterated. Bodies fall in sections, the cuts cauterized by the unnatural heat of her blood weapon, creating a grotesque gallery of bisected enemies around her.


    ¡­


    Marcus cut down one of the men charging at him, his blade slicing through the attacker''s defenses with practiced precision. As the body fell, he thought to himself that these people were probably from the Empire. He could tell this because he had seen the person with the rooster mask who was currently locked in fierce combat against the chairman. Though he had never encountered this specific masked individual in his previous life, he recognized the distinctive style of the mask as similar to those worn by certain Empire operatives he had encountered before. The animal-themed masks were a telltale sign of some sort of secret organization within the Empire.


    What troubled Marcus deeply was the timing of this attack. Although relations between the Kingdom and Empire had been deteriorating for some time, they had not yet reached the point of open conflict. Even more puzzling, he couldn''t recall any such bold assault on the capital occurring during this period in his previous life. This represented a significant deviation from the timeline he had experienced before.


    As he dispatched another attacker, Marcus glanced around the battlefield, his experienced eyes quickly noting a disturbing pattern in the enemies'' movements. They seemed to be specifically targeting Ambrose, their formations subtly shifting to create openings toward the Rothschild heir despite Hualing''s fierce defense. Marcus wondered why they would be after Ambrose specifically. Did they intend to capture him for ransom? Such a plan seemed inconceivably foolish. Surely they weren''t so deluded as to believe they could escape Victoria''s wrath if they harmed her son. The Mad Star''s retribution would be apocalyptic¡ªno one who valued their life would risk such a fate. They wouldn''t be that stupid as to think they''d survive such an action right?


    Across the chaotic battlefield, Meihua and Adelaide were huddled together behind an overturned market stall, watching with wide eyes as the bodies of attackers continued to drop around them. Meihua observed the situation with a calculating gaze.


    Meihua realized with a chill that it had really happened¡ªthe events she remembered from the book were unfolding before her eyes, albeit with significant variations. From what she recalled of the original story, in Marcus''s second timeline, Princess Athena had been kidnapped by this secret organization from the Empire. Importantly, they had acted without the Emperor''s knowledge or approval, their goal being to instigate a war between the two nations for reasons that were never fully explained in the story.


    What troubled her now was how their presence here had changed things. From the coordinated movements of the attackers, she could see that these people weren''t just targeting the princess as they had in the original story. They clearly intended to capture Ambrose as well.

 Chapter 125 125: Battle Frenzy

    In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, Sun Hualing wielded her bloodforged weapon with terrifying efficiency. Each swing cleaved through black-cloaked attackers, their spilled blood defying gravity as it spiraled back toward her crimson blade. The macabre spectacle unfolded like a choreographed dance¡ªthe weapon cutting, the blood returning, the weapon growing more massive and deadly with each fallen enemy.


    Princess Athena dispatched her own share of opponents with practiced precision, her royal swordsmanship leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Between strikes, her gaze drifted toward Hualing, observing the maid''s unique combat method with professional interest. A smile played across her lips as a competitive spark ignited within her.


    It seems I''m being outdone, she thought. Time to show what I''m really made of.


    With deliberate slowness, Athena sheathed her sword, the metallic rasp of steel against scabbard somehow audible despite the battlefield''s chaos. Her expression transformed in an instant as she activated her talent¡ªBattle Frenzy.


    A crimson aura erupted around her form, pulsing and flaring like a living flame. Her eyes morphed, pupils elongating into feline slits that gleamed with predatory intent. The transformation continued as tawny animal ears sprouted from her golden hair, whiskers emerged from her cheeks, and a fluffy tail unfurled behind her.


    Ambrose watched the princess''s metamorphosis with genuine amazement. Despite all he had witnessed in this world, this marked his first encounter with a human wielding a transformation-type skill. The academic portion of his mind immediately began cataloging and analyzing the transformation and the increase in stats even as the battle raged around them.


    Athena growled at the approaching enemies, her sharpened canines glinting as she charged into the fray with inhuman speed. She seized one attacker by the throat, then caught another rushing to his comrade''s aid. Her maniacal smile widened as she held both struggling men aloft.


    "Yes, this is it," she thought, nostrils flaring as she inhaled deeply. "The smell of battle..." she spoke, voice dropped to a husky register. "I love it."


    With frightening casualness, she smashed the two attackers together. Their bodies collided with a sickening crunch, instantly ceasing their struggles as life fled their broken forms. Rather than discarding her grisly trophies, Athena leaped into the densest concentration of enemies, still clutching the corpses.


    At the center of the black-cloaked attackers, she released a bestial roar that seemed impossible from a human throat. Then she began to spin, using the dead bodies as makeshift flails. Each rotation sent enemies flying in all directions, bones shattering upon impact as the improvised weapons connected with devastating force.


    As more attackers charged toward her, undeterred by their comrades'' fate, Athena finally discarded her grisly implements. With theatrical deliberation, she raised her leg and brought her foot down with full strength. The ground trembled beneath the impact, cobblestones splitting in a rapidly expanding fissure that radiated outward from her position. She leaped skyward as the earth opened, swallowing the surrounding enemies in its fractured maw.


    Athena landed gracefully beside Ambrose, her bestial features contrasting with her fluid movements. The rest of the party stared in awe¡ªthey had considered Hualing the dangerous berserker of their group, but the princess demonstrated a level of battle-madness that existed in an entirely different category.


    Something unexpected happened as her gaze fell upon Ambrose. Her expression shifted, the battle-lust in her eyes transforming into something different but equally intense. Without warning, she grabbed him and hoisted him onto her shoulder. Ambrose registered surprise¡ªthough he could have easily avoided her grasp with his Spatial Displacement skill, curiosity about her intentions stayed his reaction.


    With her prize secured, Athena launched herself upward with inhuman strength, landing on a nearby rooftop before bounding across several more buildings until they disappeared from view.


    Marcus, still engaged with opponents, observed their departure with confusion as he cut down another attacker. This behavior seemed wholly inconsistent with the princess he knew¡ªthe warrior who would earn the title "War Goddess" in his previous life, a woman who lived for battle and glory, how could she run from battle. Perhaps she sought to remove Ambrose from danger? His theory gained credence as he watched the remaining enemies abandon their current targets and pursue the fleeing pair.


    A sudden chill crawled up Marcus''s spine. He pivoted sharply, prepared for an attack¡ªonly to confront Hualing standing utterly still, a crimson aura churning violently around her slender form.


    "That bitch!" she snarled, her voice barely human. "How dare she?"


    The blood-red energy intensified around her as she swung her weapon in a wide, devastating arc. The remaining enemies fell in a single sweep, their bodies bisected with surgical precision. Marcus himself was forced to duck to avoid decapitation, the bloodforged blade passing close enough to sever a few strands of his hair.


    All the blood from the surrounding corpses responded to her silent command, flowing toward her in crimson rivers that defied gravity. The liquid enveloped her completely, reshaping her attire into an elegant dress of deep crimson, like a princess gown fashioned from freshly spilled blood. Her eyes transformed completely, irises and sclera alike becoming the color of newly drawn blood.


    Her gaze fixed on the direction where Athena had taken her master, Hualing launched herself upward. Though her leap fell short of Athena''s superhuman bound, it carried her impressively high. As gravity reclaimed her, clots of blood materialized beneath her feet, forming solid stepping stones in midair. She pushed off these crimson platforms, gaining height and distance with each bound as she pursued her quarry with single-minded determination.


    ¡­


    Ambrose surveyed the cityscape from his precarious position over Athena''s shoulder as they bounded across rooftops. The elevated vantage point offered him a strategic overview of the capital''s chaos. He noticed concentrated fighting near the city entrance, while only scattered skirmishes erupted elsewhere. Most significantly, he observed their original attackers now actively pursuing their path across the skyline, confirming his suspicion that he and the princess were the primary targets of this coordinated assault.


    The question of motivation troubled him. What could these attackers possibly hope to gain by targeting the Rothschild heir and the princess? The political implications alone made such an endeavor suicidal. But an even more pressing issue was where the princess was taking him, was she thinking of hiding? Before he could develop this line of reasoning further, their high-speed journey abruptly ended.


    They landed in a spacious chamber that defied conventional room design. A large bed occupied one corner, while the majority of the space was devoted to what appeared to be a personal training facility. Various weights and exercise equipment were scattered throughout, seemingly arranged for practical use rather than aesthetic appeal. A framed portrait of the royal family hung prominently on one wall, suggesting this might be Athena''s private quarters within the palace complex.


    Ambrose''s analytical mind immediately began searching for strategic significance. Perhaps this room contained some hidden royal escape passage? A secret exit known only to the royal family for emergencies such as this?


    His methodical assessment was violently interrupted as he suddenly found himself airborne.


    "Eh?" The surprised sound escaped him involuntarily as he tumbled through the air, landing with a soft bounce on the bed''s plush surface. The fine quality of the mattress registered distantly in his mind, but far more pressing was the expression that had overtaken Athena''s features.


    This was not the calculated look of a protector seeking a defensible position. Her eyes burned with primal hunger, her cheeks flushed with deep crimson. She breathed heavily through parted lips, her tongue partially visible as saliva gathered at the corners of her mouth. She advanced toward him with slow, deliberate steps, like a predator savoring the anticipation of capture.


    Ambrose''s mind raced through possibilities. Was this an extreme manifestation of his Fragile Beauty skill? No, she had seemed relatively unaffected before. Then a troubling theory formed¡ªin many stories he''d read, transformation-type abilities often carried significant drawbacks. The most common was diminished intelligence or rational control proportional to the physical power gained. Had her Battle Frenzy skill reduced her to base instincts?


    Before he could complete this analysis, Athena pounced. Ambrose instinctively activated his Spatial Displacement, intending to teleport outside to safety. Instead, he materialized by the door, still within the chamber.


    Confusion flickered across his features. Had he miscalculated the coordinate shift? He attempted another teleport, aiming definitively for the exterior courtyard he had glimpsed through the window. Once again, he found himself merely relocated to another corner of the room.


    After several more attempts yielded identical results, comprehension dawned. Some form of spatial interference was active within these walls¡ªlikely a royal security measure designed to prevent assassination attempts via teleportation. This protective enchantment now served as his prison, trapping him with the feral princess. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Athena rushed toward his new position with frightening speed, but Ambrose blinked away once more, reappearing beside the room''s heavy door. If teleportation beyond the chamber was impossible, conventional exit remained his only option. Once beyond this spatial dampening field, he could easily teleport to safety. He doubted such protection extended throughout the entire royal complex.


    He pushed against the door with growing urgency, but it remained immovable. Activating his Spatial Omniscience, he scanned the barrier and was shocked by what he discovered. This was no ordinary door but a defensive bulwark¡ªa solid meter of reinforced material weighing approximately a ton. What kind of room required such extreme security measures? The realization settled with chilling clarity: he was effectively trapped in a cage with a predator in heat.


    As this understanding crystallized, he felt warm breath against his neck. He turned slowly, raising his hands in a placating gesture.


    "Umm... can we talk about this?" he offered diplomatically.


    The princess''s expression remained unchanged, primal hunger evident in every aspect of her bestial features.


    A/N - Formatting is broken, I''ll edit late

 Chapter 126 126: Psychopath

    Through the air she walked, a specter of crimson determination. Hualing could sense her master through their oath-talent connection, her senses stretching across the cityscape like invisible tendrils seeking their target. Her eyes narrowed as she locked onto the distant location where she felt Ambrose''s presence resonating within her.


    Without hesitation, she leapt from her blood platform, soaring through open space before landing precisely on another crimson disc that materialized beneath her feet. Like a dancer traversing an impossible staircase, she bounded from one blood platform to the next, her movements fluid and purposeful against the city skyline.


    As she progressed toward her destination, black-cloaked pursuers appeared in her path, their weapons raised as they charged after her master. Hualing didn''t break stride. Her blood weapon flashed with deadly elegance, cleaving through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency. The fallen enemies'' blood defied gravity, rising in crimson streams that were absorbed into her clothing, deepening the rich scarlet of her makeshift dress as she continued her relentless advance.


    Within their shared mental space, Minghua''s panic spiraled. She couldn''t believe Ambrose had been snatched away right before their eyes. The blood oath that connected them to the young master granted her tremendous power, but it was truly double-edged. If anything happened to Ambrose¡ªif the princess accidentally harmed his fragile form¡ªeverything would collapse. This was the fundamental weakness of oath-type talents; an entire lifetime''s worth of careful planning could disintegrate in an instant if the princess applied just a little too much pressure and the young master''s frail body gave out.


    Minghua understood that the princess was likely under the influence of Ambrose''s mysterious charm skill. She had long suspected the young master possessed unusual abilities beyond his acknowledged talents. Now she could only pray he would protect himself¡ªfor both their sakes.


    Hualing landed with graceful menace atop the royal estate''s perimeter wall. A guard shouted, "Hey, stop right there!" but his words fell on deaf ears. Hualing moved past him without acknowledgment, her weapon tracing a lethal arc. The guard''s head separated from his shoulders, blood arcing upward to join the crimson fabric of her flowing dress.


    More royal guards appeared to block her path, but they might as well have been paper figures for all the resistance they offered. Hualing sliced through them methodically, her expression unchanged as bodies crumpled in her wake. To her singular focus, these opponents weren''t people with names or ranks or families¡ªthey were merely obstacles that stood between her and her master. Guard or knight, royal soldier or common thief¡ªanyone preventing her from reaching Ambrose was categorically the same: an enemy to be eliminated.


    With ruthless precision, she carved her path directly toward the princess''s residence, leaving a trail of fallen knights in her bloody wake.


    ¡­


    Trapped within the princess''s private chambers, Ambrose found himself pressed against the massive reinforced door, his slender frame dwarfed by its imposing size. "Umm... can we talk about this?" he offered diplomatically, hands raised in a placating gesture that seemed absurdly inadequate against the feral creature advancing toward him.


    The transformed princess showed no sign of comprehending his words. Her eyes remained fixed on him with predatory focus, pupils dilated into feline slits that reflected an unnerving hunger. She stalked closer, each step deliberate and purposeful, forcing him further against the unyielding surface of the door.


    With no other option, Ambrose activated his Spatial Displacement skill, blinking across the room to reappear on the opposite side. A troubling thought crossed his mind as he materialized¡ªdidn''t this ability have a cooldown period? He''d always suspected that this very skill, designed to protect him, might ironically lead to his demise. Now that he thought about it, it had never really protected him, always bringing him trouble.


    He barely completed this thought before the princess was upon him again, moving with frightening speed that belied her muscular frame. Ambrose teleported once more, materializing several meters away. Despite the optimized energy consumption of his upgraded skill, each use still drained his mental strength. At this rate, he would exhaust his reserves long before finding an escape from this predatory pursuit.


    Desperate for a solution, Ambrose activated Spatial Omniscience, extending his awareness throughout the entire chamber. The skill revealed every detail of the space in perfect clarity¡ªbut offered little hope. Training equipment dominated the room, barbells and weighted weapons arranged in utilitarian fashion. More disturbingly, his enhanced perception detected various weapons concealed beneath the bed frame. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Is this woman a psychopath? he wondered incredulously. Who keeps an arsenal under their bed? The discovery did nothing to calm his mounting anxiety as he teleported yet again, narrowly avoiding the princess''s grasp.


    With each evasion, Ambrose noticed her movements growing increasingly aggressive. Frustration radiated from her bestial features as her prey continued to evade capture. Perhaps he could use this escalating impatience to his advantage? If she charged with sufficient force, he could teleport at the final moment, allowing her momentum to carry her through the wall¡ªcreating an escape route through sheer destructive force.


    Having formulated this plan, Ambrose positioned himself strategically beside what his spatial awareness identified as the structurally weakest section of the exterior wall. He braced himself as the princess charged, her powerful legs propelling her across the chamber with devastating speed.


    Yet something unexpected happened. As she closed the final distance, her movements suddenly decelerated. The princess''s charge transformed into a controlled approach, her momentum deliberately checked as though she feared injuring him. Rather than the bone-crushing collision he had anticipated, she slowed to an almost gentle pace just before reaching him.


    After several similar attempts yielded identical results, Ambrose realized the frustrating truth¡ªhis Vulnerable Charm skill was working too effectively. Even in her feral state, the princess couldn''t bring herself to risk harming his fragile form. What good was a defensive ability that prevented harm but still allowed him to be assaulted? With his pitiful physical stats, he would still die either way.


    Is the system playing games with me? he thought bitterly, teleporting once more as she lunged.


    Yet this apparent limitation sparked a new strategy. If he couldn''t manipulate her into breaking the wall, perhaps he could use his own abilities more creatively. Though she always reduced her momentum before impact, what if he teleported her before she had the chance?


    Ambrose positioned himself deliberately, waiting as the princess charged once more. His analytical mind calculated trajectories and timing with perfect precision, allowing her to build maximum velocity. Just as she reached peak speed, eyes locked on her target with predatory intent, Ambrose activated his skill.


    [Spatial Displacement]


    ¡­


    In a split second of calculated precision, Ambrose activated his Spatial Displacement skill. The princess vanished from her charging trajectory, instantaneously reappearing directly in front of the wall. She collided with the barrier at full velocity, the impact reverberating through the chamber with a thunderous crash that seemed to shake the very foundation of the building.


    Through his Spatial Omniscience, Ambrose witnessed the aftermath of his strategy. A spiderweb of cracks radiated outward from the point of impact, fracturing the seemingly impenetrable wall¡ªyet remarkably, the barrier remained intact. Ambrose stared in disbelief at the result of his gambit.


    What the hell is this thing made of? he thought incredulously. That was the full power of an S-rank fighter! The princess''s supernatural strength should have shattered any normal wall, regardless of its reinforcement. The royal family''s paranoia regarding security had apparently extended to making the princess''s chambers virtually indestructible.


    Before he could formulate an alternative escape plan, a system notification materialized before his eyes:


    [You have reached [Mind Limit] using mind related abilities in this state is not recommended]


    The warning flashed ominously just as his vision began to blur. His knees buckled beneath him, strength evaporating from his limbs as he collapsed unceremoniously to the floor. He found himself staring helplessly at the ornate ceiling, his body refusing to respond to his commands.


    "What is happening?" he whispered, confusion clouding his thoughts. "I still had about half my mental strength left..."


    The realization struck him with brutal clarity. He had made a critical miscalculation, using his earlier teleportation costs as a baseline for estimating the mental energy required to displace the princess. But the current Athena was fundamentally different¡ªher Battle Frenzy talent had dramatically increased her physical mass and power, and she had been moving at maximum velocity. Both factors exponentially increased the mental energy cost of the spatial displacement.


    "Dammit, I''ve miscalculated," he muttered, disappointment in his analytical failure cutting deeper than any physical vulnerability. "How could I have made such a simple mistake?"


    As self-recrimination coursed through him, he sensed Athena''s approach. The princess seemed to recognize that her prey had exhausted himself, no longer capable of those frustrating disappearing acts. She stalked toward him with deliberate slowness, savoring the moment of inevitable capture, her bestial features contorted in triumph.


    She loomed above him, her transformed eyes gleaming with predatory satisfaction as she gazed down at her conquered prey. This time, she didn''t bother with the pretense of carrying him to the bed. Ambrose attempted to raise his hand in one final gesture of resistance, but she caught his wrist in mid-motion, seizing his other hand as well. With effortless strength, she pinned both his arms above his head with a single hand, effectively immobilizing him against the cold floor.


    [GAME OVER]

 Chapter 127 127: Adelaide Goes Missing

    Within the boundless void, Victoria drifted in her spirit form, her luminous form gliding through the darkness with supernatural grace. The space surrounding her was unstable, frequently tearing apart in violent ruptures that released blinding torrents of raw energy. Each time this happened, Victoria calmly extended her hands, her fingers dancing in intricate patterns as she seamlessly resealed the breaches, manipulating the chaotic forces with the practiced ease of someone who had long mastered such skills. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As she continued her journey through this otherworldly expanse, Victoria suddenly halted, an unfamiliar sensation of dread washing over her. Something felt profoundly wrong, a disturbance beyond the normal instabilities of this realm.


    "Why do I feel like something bad is about to happen?" she whispered, her voice carrying strangely in the dimensionless void.


    Victoria glanced down at her hand where an ornate ring adorned her slender finger. She pressed it repeatedly, frustration growing with each failed attempt. The magical device remained stubbornly unresponsive in this place.


    She sighed, understanding the limitations imposed by this realm. Even with her considerable power, she couldn''t establish a connection with Ambrose or check his status through their normal channels. The only reassurance she had was the faint sense that her son still lived.


    Determination hardened her features as she resumed her forward journey. Ambrose, please hang on, she thought resolutely. Mom will definitely come back.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, in a very different realm, Ambrose found himself in a precarious situation within Princess Athena''s royal chambers. He lay helplessly on the cold floor, his slender wrists pinned firmly above his head by the transformed princess''s single powerful hand. His mental strength exhausted, he could only stare upward as Athena knelt over him, her bestial features fixed in an expression of triumphant hunger.


    For a moment, she simply observed him, her feline eyes drinking in every detail of his vulnerable form with undisguised appreciation. Then she leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart, her warm breath washing over his skin in sharp contrast to the cold hand now sliding beneath his shirt.


    Ambrose felt her fingers tracing across his chest, the intimate contact sending a jolt of alarm through him. His analytical mind, even in this compromised position, couldn''t help wondering about the mechanics of her transformation skill. Why hadn''t it deactivated yet? The duration seemed improbably extended, defying the normal limitations of such abilities.


    Before he could pursue this line of thought further, Athena closed the remaining distance between them. Her transformed features drew inexorably closer as she went in for a kiss...


    ¡­


    In the chaotic aftermath of the attack on the Heroes Association, Meihua and Adelaide had taken refuge behind an overturned merchant carriage, its wooden frame offering minimal protection from the violence erupting around them. The two young women crouched low, the rough cobblestones digging into their knees as they periodically risked quick glances above their makeshift barricade to assess the battlefield.


    The confrontation between Chairman Darius and the rooster-masked figure had escalated dramatically, their clash sending shockwaves through the surrounding architecture. Each impact of their exchange created fissures in nearby buildings, dust and debris raining down with each thunderous collision. Though neither combatant showed signs of yielding, the chairman''s uniform hung in tatters around his muscular frame, revealing a network of fresh wounds alongside his older battle scars.


    Despite many of the black-cloaked assailants having pursued Ambrose and Princess Athena, a significant number remained engaged in combat with Marcus. His blade flashed in the afternoon light as he systematically cut down opponents, his movements fluid and precise despite being significantly outnumbered.


    Adelaide cautiously raised her head once more from behind the carriage, her merchant''s instinct for situational awareness compelling her to gather information. Her breath caught suddenly as she found herself staring directly into the shadowed face of a black-cloaked figure who had silently flanked their position. The enemy''s mask revealed only a pair of cold, calculating eyes that locked with hers in a moment of mutual surprise.


    Frozen in place, Adelaide''s mind raced through her limited options. Her recent training sessions with Marcus had improved her physical capabilities significantly¡ªshe could now perform basic defensive maneuvers and even some rudimentary sword techniques. Yet she remained woefully unprepared for actual combat, especially without a weapon. Her mind automatically calculated the odds of survival, and the results were decidedly unfavorable.


    Before she could decide on a course of action, the assailant had already drawn his blade in one fluid motion, the steel gleaming ominously as he lunged toward her exposed position. Adelaide''s training had improved her reflexes, but not nearly enough to dodge an attack of this speed. Her eyes widened as she realized she wouldn''t be able to evade in time.


    In the fraction of a second before the blade connected, Adelaide felt herself suddenly propelled sideways, her body lifted entirely off the ground. Meihua had reacted with astonishing speed, throwing herself bodily against Adelaide and sending them both tumbling beyond the attacker''s reach. They crashed ungracefully onto the hard cobblestones several feet away, the impact driving the breath from Adelaide''s lungs as sharp pain blossomed across her shoulder and hip.


    Gasping for air, Adelaide rolled onto her side just in time to witness their former hiding place being cleaved perfectly in two, the heavy wooden carriage splitting apart as though it were parchment beneath the attacker''s blade. Splinters exploded outward, pieces of the severed vehicle clattering across the street in a shower of destruction.


    The black-cloaked figure stood motionless for a moment, seemingly examining his handiwork before slowly turning to face the two prone women. His posture radiated calm confidence as he approached them with measured steps, sword poised for a finishing strike. Adelaide and Meihua remained sprawled on the ground, neither having recovered sufficiently from their desperate evasion to attempt another escape.


    As the attacker raised his weapon for the killing blow, his body suddenly jerked, his fluid movement interrupted by an unexpected impact. An arrow protruded from his back, its shaft quivering with the force of its penetration. The assailant whirled around in surprise, searching for this new threat¡ªonly to be met by Marcus''s blade sweeping in a perfect horizontal arc. The precision strike separated the man''s head from his shoulders in a single clean motion, ending the confrontation instantly.


    Marcus stood over the fallen enemy, breath slightly elevated from his exertions. He knelt to examine the arrow lodged in the corpse, carefully extracting it for closer inspection. The projectile''s design caught his attention immediately¡ªits craftsmanship matched neither the Kingdom''s standardized military equipment nor the distinctive styling of Imperial weaponry.


    "A civilian weapon?" he murmured, brow furrowing as he scanned the surrounding rooftops and windows, seeking the unseen archer who had provided such timely assistance. Yet despite his keen perception, he could detect no sign of the mysterious ally. Had they retreated immediately after taking the shot?


    Setting aside this puzzle temporarily, Marcus turned his attention to the two women. "Are you guys okay?" he called, crossing the distance to where they still lay recovering.


    "Yeah, thanks," Meihua responded, accepting Marcus''s outstretched hand as he helped her to her feet. Her clothing was disheveled and smudged with dirt from the rough landing, but she appeared otherwise unharmed.


    Marcus glanced around, his expression shifting to confusion. "Where is Adelaide?" he asked, scanning their immediate surroundings.


    "What do you mean? She was just here a second ago¡­" Meihua replied, turning to indicate where Adelaide should have been¡ªonly to find empty cobblestones where her companion had lain moments before. "That''s strange, I could''ve sworn she was here," she added, her voice tinged with genuine bewilderment.


    Marcus frowned deeply, surveying the area with growing concern. He had clearly seen both women just seconds earlier, yet Adelaide had vanished without a trace during the brief exchange. It seemed implausible that she would have fled voluntarily, especially without alerting Meihua¡ªand Adelaide had never struck him as someone who would abandon her companions.


    A more troubling possibility formed in his mind: had someone taken her during those few moments of distraction? If so, they would need to be extraordinarily skilled to abduct someone so quickly without leaving evidence¡ªand without either Marcus or Meihua noticing despite their proximity.


    "Follow me," Marcus decided, already moving with purposeful strides. "We''ll look around for her before joining up with the young master." His voice carried a note of urgency that matched the gravity of the situation.


    Meihua nodded silently, falling into step behind him as they began their search for their missing companion.


    ¡­


    Hualing carved through the remaining black-cloaked assailants with surgical precision, her bloodforged weapon gleaming crimson in the fading light. The royal knights who attempted to intercept her fared no better, their training proving inadequate against her ruthless efficiency. Bodies collapsed in her wake, their blood rising to join the crimson fabric of her dress like tributaries flowing to a river.


    Finally, she stood before the massive reinforced door of the princess''s chamber, her expression cold and focused. She didn''t need their oath-bond to locate her master now¡ªthe connection was merely confirmation of what her enhanced senses already told her. His scent, uniquely familiar to her, permeated the air despite the thick barriers between them.

 Chapter 128 128: Sun Hualing

    Hualing stood before the massive reinforced door, her crimson blade reflecting the dim light of the palace corridor. With no interest in courtesy or subtlety, she launched herself at the barrier, striking with all her considerable strength. The weapon connected with a resounding clang that echoed through the hallway¡ªbut instead of cleaving through as expected, her blade simply bounced back, leaving the door completely unmarred.


    She stared at the imposing barrier, genuine surprise flickering across her usually impassive features. In her experience, few obstacles had ever withstood her first strike, let alone emerged completely unscathed. Yet rather than frustration, a small, almost predatory smile curved her lips as she activated one of her most devastating abilities:


    [Crimson Blade](A) - Infuses the user''s weapons with their own blood, creating deadly blood-enhanced strikes. Each attack leaves wounds that continue to bleed, dealing additional damage over time. The user can also launch blood projectiles from their weapon or create blood-forged weapon extensions. While powerful, this ability constantly drains the user''s blood, requiring eventual replenishment through Blood Communion.


    Power surged through her as her own blood flowed into the weapon, transforming it into something far more lethal. The blade pulsed with malevolent energy, the crimson glow intensifying as she concentrated her essence into the edge. With renewed determination, Hualing charged again, putting her full strength behind the strike.


    The resulting impact was deafening¡ªyet when the echoes faded, the door remained completely intact, not even a scratch marring its polished surface. Undeterred, she struck again and again, each attack more ferocious than the last, her movements becoming a blur of deadly precision. But no matter how she varied her approach or how much blood she poured into her weapon, the results remained stubbornly unchanged.


    Within their shared consciousness, Minghua observed the futile assault with growing concern. The situation appeared increasingly hopeless; She felt that even an S-rank fighter might not be able to scratch the surface of the huge door. If that was the case, then what chance did they have? The royal security measures were apparently designed to withstand attacks far beyond what even exceptional warriors could deliver.


    "I have an idea. Let''s switch," Minghua suggested through their mental connection.


    In an instant, control of their body shifted. Minghua took a moment to acclimate herself to the physical sensation, closing her eyes in concentration. Her form began to change, liquefying until she collapsed into a spreading pool of crimson on the marble floor. In this transformed state, she directed her substance toward the tiny gap beneath the massive door, attempting to infiltrate the chamber by flowing through the smallest openings.


    But even this creative approach proved fruitless. The room appeared to be hermetically sealed, impervious to even the most minute intrusion. Not a single drop of her transformed essence could find passage to the other side. After several failed attempts, Hualing reclaimed control, resuming her relentless physical assault while Minghua retreated to brainstorm alternative strategies.


    Minghua contemplated using her authority, weighing the significant cost against their limited options. Such power would drain her considerably, and success wasn''t guaranteed against such formidable defenses. Yet as their situation grew increasingly desperate, even this risky gambit began to seem necessary.


    Amid her strategic deliberations, a familiar voice suddenly penetrated their consciousness: [Hualing, is that you?]


    The mental transmission was unmistakable¡ªAmbrose''s voice, reaching them through their blood oath connection.


    "Master, are you okay?" Hualing responded immediately, pausing her attack.


    [Well, yeah, but I won''t be for long,] came his reply, tension evident even through their telepathic link.


    "Master, don''t worry, I''ll come save you!" Hualing declared, redoubling her efforts against the unyielding door, her strikes becoming even more frenzied.


    [Stop it, you can''t break in that way,] Ambrose instructed, his mental voice carrying clear authority despite his predicament.


    Hualing''s shoulders slumped visibly, disappointment radiating from her entire being.


    [But don''t worry, I have a plan. Though it might be a little dangerous,] he continued.


    Without a moment''s hesitation, Hualing responded, "Tell me, Master. I''ll definitely do it." Her voice carried absolute conviction, unburdened by any concern for her own safety.


    What happened next defied comprehension. Hualing stood perfectly still for a heartbeat¡ªthen suddenly exploded into a spreading pool of blood. Her entire form liquefied instantly, crimson essence spreading across the marble floor in an expanding circle.


    This wasn''t a technique or controlled transformation. The horrifying truth was unmistakable: Hualing had died...


    ¡­


    As the princess''s transformed face drew closer, her lips almost touching his, Ambrose accepted that his fate was sealed. The frail Rothschild heir, trapped in an inescapable situation with his mental strength depleted, could see no path to salvation.


    But then¡ªa sound penetrated the heavy silence of the royal chamber. Though faint, his enhanced senses detected the unmistakable impact of something striking the massive door with considerable force. The rhythmic clanging continued, each blow carrying a desperation that seemed almost familiar.


    Although his Spatial Omniscience couldn''t penetrate the barrier surrounding the room, physical sound still traveled through the solid matter. Ambrose''s analytical mind instantly formed a hypothesis about the source. Could it be Hualing attempting to reach him?


    He activated his Blood Sense skill to confirm his suspicion:


    [Blood Sense](B) - Allows the lord to sense their knight''s general condition and location at all times. The lord maintains constant awareness of their knight''s physical state, including severity of injuries and blood loss. They can also sense the general direction and approximate distance to their knight, making separation nearly impossible. The accuracy of this sense increases with proximity.


    The connection flared to life, confirming Hualing''s presence just beyond the barrier. Relief washed through him momentarily, before cold reality reasserted itself. Even with her considerable strength, Hualing couldn''t possibly breach these defenses. If Princess Athena at full speed¡ªan S-rank fighter with enhanced physical capabilities¡ªcouldn''t break through the weakest point of the wall, how could Hualing hope to breach the door, which logically represented the strongest structural point?


    Athena paused her advance, her bestial features twisting with irritation at the persistent interruption. The momentary distraction gave Ambrose precious seconds to think.


    His extraordinarily enhanced mind accelerated to a thousand times normal speed, examining and discarding dozens of potential strategies in mere moments. Countless possibilities flashed through his consciousness, each evaluated against the constraints of their predicament, until one particular avenue emerged with promise.


    While his Thought Transmission couldn''t penetrate the barrier, perhaps another ability could:


    [Lord''s Voice](B) - Creates a permanent telepathic link between lord and knight, allowing instant communication regardless of distance. The communication is completely secure and cannot be intercepted or blocked by normal means. The link also allows for the transmission of emotional states and simple mental images, helping convey complex information quickly. This connection remains active even when one party is unconscious.


    The blood oath that bound them transcended normal spatial limitations. Even within this sealed chamber, their connection might remain intact. Ambrose focused his remaining mental strength, projecting his thoughts through this unique channel.


    [Hualing, is that you?]


    The response came instantly, confirming the link remained functional despite the spatial dampening. After a brief exchange establishing his situation, Ambrose formulated his desperate plan.


    [But don''t worry, I have a plan. Though it might be a little dangerous.]


    The plan was both elegant and terrible in its simplicity: Hualing would need to commit suicide. Through their blood oath, Ambrose could then revive her using his Blood Revival skill, which would manifest her physical form directly at his location¡ªbypassing the impenetrable barriers entirely.


    The risks were enormous. The revival would drain nearly a third of Ambrose''s blood volume¡ªblood that wouldn''t regenerate naturally. In his already weakened state, this could prove fatal. Furthermore, even if successfully revived, Hualing would need to contend with a transformed S-rank princess immediately upon manifestation. Yet no alternative presented itself. This was their only chance.


    Ambrose conveyed the plan through their mental link, half-expecting hesitation or questions. Instead, Hualing''s immediate, unwavering acceptance stunned even him.


    In the next moment, Ambrose sensed Hualing''s life force extinguish completely. Even prepared for it, the abrupt severing of her presence shocked him. That she would end her own life without the slightest hesitation, based solely on his instruction, was both humbling and terrifying. If they survived this ordeal, he would need to properly acknowledge such extraordinary loyalty.


    With Princess Athena''s lips now brushing against his, Ambrose activated the final piece of his desperate gambit:


    [Blood Revival]


    An indescribable sensation overtook him¡ªas though something essential was being forcefully extracted from his very core. His vision blurred instantly, consciousness wavering as nearly a third of his blood volume was mystically channeled into the revival process. Something warm and wet splashed against his face¡ªblood or perhaps water, he couldn''t tell.


    His thoughts fragmented, coherence dissolving as critical blood loss devastated his already fragile system. Questions flickered like dying embers in his fading consciousness: Had the plan succeeded? Where was he? Who was he? Each thought disintegrated before completion, mental processes shutting down as his body struggled with the catastrophic blood loss.


    "Master, are you okay?" S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The familiar voice eventually penetrated the darkness. Ambrose opened his eyes slowly, disoriented and weak. Not Hualing''s voice, but Claire''s. He found himself once again in the dark expanse of his mindscape¡ªthat strange dimensional space within his consciousness. This wasn''t the royal chamber, but the internal realm he occasionally visited during meditation. This time, however, he''d been forcibly pulled here through unconsciousness.


    "I''m alright," he managed, though even forming the words seemed to require immense effort. "How long has it been?"


    Claire''s spectral form hovered nearby, concern evident in her features. "When you became unconscious, I was pulled out of your consciousness and into this place," she explained. "I can''t tell how much time has passed."


    This new information fascinated Ambrose, even in his weakened state. Apparently, when knocked unconscious and dragged into the dark expanse, even beings residing within his consciousness¡ªlike Claire¡ªwere expelled into this shared mindscape. He had theorized about using Parallel Thought to maintain consciousness with one mind while another was incapacitated, but this development suggested such an approach might be impossible.


    Ambrose sighed resignedly. With no way to perceive events in the physical world, he could only trust in Hualing''s abilities. For now, his gaze drifted upward, toward the mysterious white expanse hovering above the darkness¡ªthat enigmatic region he had glimpsed before but never fully explored. Perhaps this enforced interlude offered an opportunity to investigate this mysterious dimension further.

 Chapter 129 129: Goddess Aurora

    In the stillness of the princess''s chamber, Ambrose lay unconscious beneath Athena, his complexion growing frighteningly pale with each passing second. As the transformed princess leaned down, her bestial features inches from his face, a single crimson droplet fell onto Ambrose''s forehead.


    The princess paused, momentarily confused by the unexpected intrusion. That hesitation proved costly. Without warning, the droplet expanded violently, a fist materializing from the blood to connect squarely with Athena''s face. The impact sent her flying backward, the force behind the blow catching her completely off-guard.


    The blood continued to flow and expand, rapidly coalescing into Hualing''s familiar form. Her crimson dress rippled like liquid as she materialized fully, her eyes immediately falling to her unconscious master. His shallow breathing and deathly pallor ignited something primal within her. She turned toward the princess, who was still reeling from the surprise attack, her expression transforming into one of unbridled fury.


    Hualing didn''t allow for recovery. She launched herself at the princess with terrifying speed, her fists becoming blurs as they hammered against Athena''s transformed body. The princess''s enhanced physique proved resilient¡ªeach impact damaged Hualing''s hands more than her target, bones fracturing against the supernatural hardness of Athena''s skin. Yet Hualing pressed on relentlessly, heedless of her own injuries.


    Pausing momentarily, she raised her battered hands before her face, examining the mangled flesh with clinical detachment. Blood from the floor responded to her silent command, flowing upward against gravity to envelop her broken hands. Within seconds, the crimson liquid solidified, her wounds knitting closed as though they had never existed. Healed, she resumed her assault with renewed vigor.


    The princess, now recovered from her initial shock, caught Hualing''s fist mid-strike. Annoyance flickered across her bestial features¡ªwhile the attacks had caused minimal damage, they were still annoying nonetheless. And she had even interrupted her. With frightening casual strength, she lifted Hualing by the captured arm and hurled her across the chamber.


    Hualing crashed into the wall with bone-jarring force, the impact creating a spider-web of cracks in the reinforced surface. Before she could extricate herself, the princess was upon her again, delivering a devastating punch to her midsection. The blow expelled all air from Hualing''s lungs, leaving her gasping and momentarily defenseless.


    Seizing the advantage, Athena grasped Hualing''s head between powerful hands and sprinted toward the opposite wall. With brutal efficiency, she slammed her opponent''s skull against the unyielding surface, finally releasing her grip as Hualing slumped to the floor.


    Satisfied with her handiwork, the princess turned away, her predatory gaze returning to Ambrose''s unconscious form. She moved toward him with deliberate steps, her intentions clear in every line of her posture.


    A firm grip suddenly closed around her ankle. Athena glanced down in disbelief to find Hualing clutching her leg, blood flowing back into the maid''s wounds from across the room. Her injuries visibly closed as her lips curved into a menacing smile that promised retribution.


    With unexpected strength, Hualing yanked the princess''s leg, disrupting her balance. As Athena stumbled, Hualing surged upward, her right hand liquefying momentarily before reforming as a wickedly sharp blade of crystallized blood.


    "[Crimson Blade]," she whispered, activating her lethal skill as she lunged toward the faltering princess.


    Athena''s reflexes saved her from catastrophe. She planted one hand firmly on the floor, stabilizing herself despite her compromised position. Still, she remained vulnerable as Hualing descended from above, blood-sword aimed directly at her exposed neck.


    With her free hand, the princess caught the descending blade. Her palm closed around the edge, sustaining only minor wounds despite the weapon''s supernatural sharpness. She matched Hualing''s predatory smile with one of her own.


    The smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Athena''s eyes widened in sudden realization as she felt the blood from her palm wound change direction, flowing upward into Hualing''s sword. With each passing second, strength leached from her body, feeding her opponent''s weapon.


    Understanding the dangerous nature of this contact, Athena hurled Hualing across the room with brutal force. Both fighters rose slowly to their feet, eyes locked in mutual assessment. After a moment of tense stillness, they charged toward each other once more¡­


    ¡­


    In the depths of the murky void, Ambrose and Claire drifted upward with deliberate slowness. The dark expanse surrounding them seemed almost alive, responding to Ambrose''s will as they navigated toward the white light hovering above. Ambrose had made several exploratory trips into the dark expanse ever since discovering he could access it through meditation, each trip yielding new insights about the nature of this peculiar mental realm.


    Through careful experimentation, Ambrose had developed greater control over the environment, manipulating the murky substance with increasing precision. Still, the fundamental nature of this place remained elusive, leaving him with only theories about its true significance and purpose.


    As they approached the boundary between darkness and light, Ambrose felt the space around them shift dramatically. A momentary disorientation swept over him, and when his senses stabilized, he found himself standing alone in a vast expanse of pure, pristine white that extended infinitely in all directions. Claire was nowhere to be seen.


    Ambrose remained calm. He had anticipated this separation¡ªsomething about the white realm rejected additional presences. Before their transition, he had taken precautions to stabilize the dark expanse around Claire''s position, ensuring her safety in his absence. The spectral librarian would remain secure until his return.


    Confronted with the featureless white infinity, Ambrose chose a direction at random and began walking. His footsteps made no sound as he traversed the emptiness, searching for anything that might break the perfect uniformity of this strange dimension. The complete absence of stimuli made even his enhanced senses strain for input.


    After what seemed like an eternity of walking through nothingness, his heightened perception detected something. Faint sounds disturbed the perfect silence¡ªmetal scraping against some unknown surface, and more intriguingly, the soft, rhythmic pattern of breathing. Though barely audible, these sounds stood out dramatically against the perfect silence of the white void.


    Quickening his pace, Ambrose moved toward the source of these disturbances. With each step, the sounds grew more distinct, confirming he was approaching something significant. His analytical mind raced with possibilities as the noises became clearer and more defined.


    Then everything changed with a single step.


    The infinite whiteness vanished, replaced by a dimly lit chamber. The transition happened without warning¡ªone moment endless void, the next a confined space with defined boundaries and features. The room appeared ancient despite its timeless quality, illuminated by a soft glow with no discernible source.


    At the center of this chamber floated a figure suspended by massive chains. The being appeared female in form, possessed extraordinary beauty, and bore the unmistakable attributes typically associated with celestial entities¡ªmagnificent wings spread behind her back and a luminous halo hovering above her head. The chains binding her seemed impossibly heavy, yet she floated as if weightless in their grasp.


    Ambrose''s quick assessment categorized her appearance as matching classical depictions of angels from Earth''s religious art.


    "Sorry to disappoint you but I''m not an angel," the suspended figure suddenly spoke, her golden eyes opening to fix directly on him. Those eyes emitted their own subtle light, illuminating her features with an otherworldly glow.


    An unsettling sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu washed over Ambrose. The interaction felt eerily familiar, reminiscent of his encounter with Celestia, the War Goddess. She too had demonstrated an uncanny awareness of his thoughts before he voiced them.


    "Well, we''re similar but not really," the chained being continued, responding to his unspoken comparison. "She knew what you would say because she had the records." A smile played across her lips, neither warm nor cold, but knowing. "But I know because I can read minds."


    Her golden gaze studied him for a moment before she added, "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Aurora." She paused, allowing the significance of the name to register. "Though I''m guessing you would know me as the Goddess of Light."


    ¡­ S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Adelaide sprinted through the devastated streets of the capital, her chest heaving with each labored breath. The once-bustling thoroughfare had transformed into a macabre gallery¡ªbodies of attackers and defenders alike littered the cobblestones, grim testaments to the violence that had erupted without warning.


    Despite the chaos surrounding her, Adelaide moved with singular purpose. Her mind remained focused on the objective ahead rather than the carnage behind. She navigated the maze of fallen combatants and debris with surprising agility, her recent training with Marcus evident in her efficient movements.


    After rounding a corner at full speed, she skidded to an abrupt halt. There, standing motionless amid the destruction, was a solitary figure with their back toward her. A massive bow hanging from their shoulder.


    Adelaide approached cautiously, each step measured as she closed the distance. Dust and smoke swirled around them, temporarily obscuring her view before clearing to reveal the familiar silhouette. Though she couldn''t tell exactly with their back towards her, there was no way she could mistake this.


    Her voice emerged tentative yet hopeful, barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of recognition.


    "Dad? Is that you?"

 Chapter 130 130: Mind Reading

    In the ethereal chamber, Ambrose regarded the suspended figure with analytical scrutiny. Her divine beauty and the massive chains that somehow failed to weigh her down created a paradoxical image that triggered his instinctive suspicion.


    "What? You don''t believe I''m the goddess?" she asked, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.


    "I haven''t even thought about it, " he considered this silently, his expression betraying nothing.


    "You don''t have to think about it. It''s written all over your face," she continued, her voice carrying a melodic quality that seemed to resonate within the chamber itself.


    Ambrose mentally acknowledged her perceptiveness, impressed despite his skepticism.


    "Thanks," she responded to his unspoken compliment, her lips curving into a knowing smile.


    His analytical mind raced through possibilities. Perhaps she wasn''t reading his thoughts at all, but merely pretending, using subtle cues to create an illusion of telepathy.


    "Yes, I am," she answered his unvoiced hypothesis.


    Ambrose allowed himself a small smile. If she truly possessed mind-reading abilities, she should be able to extract specific information from his consciousness.


    "Two... no, five," she began, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as if focusing on something visible only to her. "Scratch that¡ª1200."


    The correct identification of his mentally selected number didn''t fully convince him. Just a lucky guess, he thought.


    "Are you for real right now?"


    Perhaps she possessed some predictive talent, allowing her to anticipate his thoughts rather than read them directly.


    "What?" she interjected, sounding genuinely confused.


    Or more troublingly, she might be manipulating reality itself, altering his thoughts to match her statements.


    "Isn''t that even more difficult than mind reading?" she challenged, her chains shifting slightly as she adjusted her floating position.


    Ambrose pushed the test further. If her abilities were genuine, could he evade them by utilizing his Parallel Processing skill? He attempted to segregate his thoughts into separate streams, creating mental partitions.


    "I can still read your mind. My skill isn''t that easy to evade," she stated confidently, her golden eyes never leaving him. "Also, why do you care so much? Is there something you''re hiding?"


    Ambrose immediately recognized the clever trap she''d laid. By suggesting he was concealing something, she invited him to reflexively think of exactly what he wished to keep hidden. However, his Rational Mind skill prevented this instinctive reaction. Instead, he deliberately focused his thoughts on the chained woman before him.


    "You''re quite good," she acknowledged with an appreciative smile.


    A plan crystallized in Ambrose''s mind as he realized he might have discovered the parameters of her ability. His lips curved into a subtle smile.


    "What do you mean?" she asked, her confidence wavering slightly.


    Suddenly, her expression changed. Confusion flickered across her divine features, followed by unmistakable nervousness. The chamber fell silent as something unprecedented occurred¡ªshe could no longer access his thoughts. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What number am I thinking of right now?" Ambrose asked, his smile widening at her growing discomfort.


    She stared at him, her golden eyes widening with dawning realization. For perhaps the first time in her divine existence, she encountered something beyond her comprehension.


    "You''re not thinking?" she finally asked, disbelief evident in her melodious voice. "But that''s not possible. How can you talk if you''re not thinking?"


    Ambrose savored this small victory over a so called divine being. "Well, you''re not entirely wrong," he admitted. "I''m just thinking the moment I speak, so it doesn''t matter if you read my mind."


    "Huh? How''s that even possible?" Bewilderment replaced her usual confidence.


    "It''s simple really," he stated with deliberate casualness. "I''m just thinking faster."


    Her expression contorted with confusion, exactly as he''d anticipated. Internally, Ambrose congratulated himself on his successful deception. He had no intention of revealing his actual method¡ªusing his Parallel Processing to create an encrypted thought stream that transferred data to his main consciousness only when needed. This encounter had proven invaluable; he''d developed a defense against mind-reading abilities that had concerned him since meeting the War Goddess.


    As he basked in this private victory, a sudden laugh from the chained divinity caused him to tense. Had she somehow penetrated his mental fortress?


    "I''ve figured it out," she declared triumphantly.


    Ambrose''s expression betrayed a flicker of nervousness, which she immediately seized upon.


    "Your expression confirms it," she announced with growing confidence. "It''s you, right? Chosen Hero Rothschild."


    "Umm, what now?"


    ¡­


    The chamber reverberated with the thunderous clash of primal forces as Hualing and Princess Athena collided at the center of the room. The two apex predators locked in territorial combat, each refusing to yield even an inch of ground. The princess''s transformed state granted her feline grace and devastating power, while Hualing''s blood manipulation abilities allowed her to sustain damage that would have felled lesser opponents.


    Athena struck with devastating precision, her clawed hands moving faster than normal eyes could track. Each blow connected with Hualing''s body like a meteor impact, sending shockwaves through her frame that shattered bones and ruptured internal organs. The princess fought with the unrestrained savagery of her bestial form, yet retained enough tactical awareness to target vital areas¡ªthroat, spine, joints¡ªseeking to incapacitate rather than merely damage.


    Blood erupted from Hualing''s wounds in crimson fountains, but instead of spattering across the chamber, the viscous liquid defied gravity. It hovered momentarily before flowing back into her injuries, knitting torn flesh and mending fractured bones with supernatural efficiency. Each healing cycle consumed precious resources, however, gradually depleting her reserves despite the blood she''d absorbed from fallen enemies.


    Hualing responded with a barrage of her own attacks, her movements blurring as she unleashed combinations designed to overwhelm. Her fists struck with calculated brutality, targeting pressure points and nerve clusters that would have crippled normal opponents. Against the princess''s transformed physiology, however, these precision strikes found little purchase. Athena''s muscles had become dense as steel, her skin impervious to conventional damage.


    Adjusting her strategy, Hualing summoned more of her blood from the floor, forming it into razor-sharp projectiles that orbited her body like a crimson constellation. With a gesture, she launched this deadly swarm at her opponent. The blood shards accelerated to lethal velocity, their trajectories unpredictable as they sought vulnerable points¡ªeyes, mouth, the juncture between transformed limbs.


    Princess Athena moved with fluid grace, her bestial instincts warning her of the danger. She twisted and contorted her body in impossible ways, evading most of the blood projectiles with supernatural agility. Those few that connected merely grazed her transformed skin, leaving shallow cuts that barely penetrated her enhanced defenses. Even these minor wounds served Hualing''s purpose, however, as the blood from each scratch refused to fall, instead flowing upward to join her growing arsenal.


    The chamber itself bore witness to their battle''s intensity. Walls cracked under the pressure of bodies thrown against them, floor tiles shattered beneath powerful impacts, training equipment lay crushed and forgotten in the corners. Each time one fighter gained momentary advantage, the other would recover and retaliate with even greater ferocity, escalating the violence in a deadly spiral.


    ¡­


    Athena launched herself across the room with explosive power, catching Hualing before she could fully prepare her defense. The princess slammed her opponent against the reinforced wall with bone-shattering force. The impact created a spiderweb of cracks across the seemingly impenetrable surface, dust and small fragments cascading down around them. Yet the barrier itself held firm.


    The collision would have killed most warriors instantly, but Hualing''s blood immediately responded, forming a protective cocoon that absorbed much of the damage. As her body peeled away from the fractured wall, she lashed out with a blood-forged blade that materialized from her forearm. The crimson weapon sliced across Athena''s chest, finally drawing a significant amount of blood.


    The princess howled¡ªnot in pain but in primal rage at being wounded. She responded by seizing Hualing''s throat in one powerful hand, lifting her entire body off the ground with terrifying ease. Hualing''s oxygen supply cut off instantly, but she didn''t panic. Instead, she directed her blood to flow into the princess''s hand through the minute spaces between fingers and flesh. The crimson liquid worked its way up Athena''s arm, seeking entry points¡ªpores, the fresh wound across her chest, even the corners of her transformed eyes. Once inside, Hualing''s blood began its insidious work, attempting to drain the princess''s vitality from within.


    Athena sensed the intrusion immediately. Her bestial instincts recognized the parasitic nature of this attack, and she responded with pure survival reflex. She hurled Hualing against another section of wall with such force that the impact created a thunderous boom, the entire chamber seeming to shudder under the tremendous pressure. New fissures spread across the reinforced surface like lightning bolts, but still, the extraordinary walls held. Hualing slid to the floor, a crumpled heap surrounded by plaster dust and debris.


    The princess then focused inward, her transformation power flaring brighter as she burned away the invasive blood through sheer vital energy. The display confirmed what Minghua had begun to suspect¡ªAthena''s reserves seemed almost limitless. The Blood Knight had drained enough vitality to fell multiple S-rank fighters, yet the princess showed only minimal signs of fatigue, and even worse, she seemed to be getting stronger as the fight went on. Her Battle Frenzy talent apparently granted not just enhanced physical capabilities but also extraordinary stamina and regenerative potential.

 Chapter 131 131: Kidnapped [PART 1]

    As Hualing rose once more from the rubble, her body reconstructing itself but with decreasing efficiency, the limitations of her approach became apparent. Though her regenerative abilities kept her in the fight, each healing cycle consumed more blood than the last. The battle had become a war of attrition¡ªone that, despite her considerable power, she was gradually losing.


    Within their shared consciousness, Minghua observed the confrontation with growing concern. While Hualing fought with savage determination, reality was undeniable, there was just no way she could win. The princess possessed not just superior raw power but seemingly inexhaustible energy. Each exchange left Hualing more depleted while Athena remained dangerously close to her peak.


    More troublingly, this destructive stalemate did nothing to help Ambrose, who remained unconscious and vulnerable. His situation required immediate attention, not an extended battle that destabilized the entire palace while royal guards undoubtedly mustered reinforcements.


    The time for brute force had passed. This situation required a different approach. As Hualing prepared to launch herself at the princess once more, Minghua''s voice cut through their mental landscape.


    This is taking us nowhere, she communicated with urgent clarity. Let me handle this.


    Hualing''s resistance was immediate but brief. Even her battle-intoxicated mind recognized the logic in Minghua''s assessment. With reluctant acknowledgment, she relinquished control, retreating to their shared internal space as Minghua stepped forward to take command of their body.


    The transition was subtle but unmistakable. The wild, unrestrained aggression that had characterized Hualing''s movements gave way to something more measured. Where blood had flowed like chaotic rivers, it now moved with deliberate purpose. The princess, sensing this change in her opponent, paused momentarily, bestial features contorted in confusion.


    Minghua straightened their shared body, blood flowing back into her wounds.


    ¡­


    "Your expression confirms it," she announced with growing confidence. "It''s you, right? Chosen Hero Rothschild."


    "Umm, what now?" Ambrose''s voice carried genuine confusion, his mind struggling to make sense of her sudden conclusion.


    The goddess''s golden eyes studied him with increasing certainty. "Don''t try to deny it, you look exactly the same," she insisted, raising a delicate hand to her chin in contemplation. "Hmm, but you look much younger now. Did you reverse time?"


    Ambrose observed her carefully before responding, "Although my name is Rothschild, I''m not Rothschild the hero," he clarified. "After all, he died a thousand years ago."


    "He died?" Shock rippled across her divine features, the chains around her trembling slightly with her movement. "How''s that possible?"


    "Aren''t you a god? Aren''t you supposed to know everything?"


    Her luminous eyes narrowed slightly. "Goddess of Light is my title. It doesn''t make me a god," she explained, releasing a weary sigh. The chains clinked softly as she shifted. "You said Rothschild is your name. Are you his descendant?" Curiosity colored her melodious voice.


    Ambrose offered a simple nod in response.


    Aurora scrutinized him for several long moments before a knowing smile blossomed across her face. "So that''s what happened. I see." Without warning, she erupted into laughter that filled the chamber with crystalline echoes. "What a nice plan, as expected of the hero!"


    Ambrose watched her display, wondering if she had finally lost it. When her laugh finally subsided, she composed herself and fixed him with an earnest gaze. "I have a request for the descendant of the hero," she announced, her tone shifting toward solemnity.


    Ambrose wondered if he had triggered a quest scenario? "What request?" he asked cautiously.


    "My child, I wonder if you can help her once," Aurora replied, her golden eyes imploring.


    "You have a child?" Surprise momentarily broke through his composed exterior.


    "Well, she worships me, so she''s my child," she clarified.


    Ambrose nodded in recognition. "What does your child look like, and why do they need help?"


    "She should be about your age. I don''t know how she looks, but in the Holy Church, she should be known as the Saintess," Aurora explained, the chains around her shifting as she moved her hands. "As for why she needs help... I don''t know either."


    "You don''t?" Ambrose gave her a suspicious gaze.


    "It''s true," she insisted, moving her hands to demonstrate the limitations of her current state. The massive chains rattled ominously. "I can''t use much of my powers here anyway."


    "What do I get for helping her?" He asked, since it was a quest scenario, it was appropriate to receive a reward for completing the quest.


    Aurora tilted her head thoughtfully. "What do you want? There isn''t much I can give anyway," she admitted.


    "Let''s see..." Ambrose paused, recognizing an opportunity for information. "How about you start by explaining what this place is?"


    ¡­


    The atmosphere in the chamber transformed as Minghua took command of their shared body. Where Hualing''s combat style had been a tempest of savage efficiency, Minghua brought a calculated elegance.


    Princess Athena stalked forward, her bestial features contorted with predatory focus. Her transformed state had reached its apex, muscles rippling beneath fur-covered skin, claws extended and gleaming in the dim light. Each movement carried the raw power of her Battle Frenzy talent.


    Minghua stood poised, her posture perfect despite the numerous wounds that had yet to fully close. Blood swirled around her in intricate patterns, no longer the chaotic maelstrom of Hualing''s approach but a disciplined array of crimson orbs that rotated with mathematical precision. Her expression remained serene, analytical¡ªa stark contrast to the princess''s savage snarl.


    "Let''s try a more civilized approach," Minghua murmured, though the words were meant more for herself than her opponent.


    The princess charged with explosive force, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Where Hualing would have met this aggression with equal ferocity, Minghua sidestepped with balletic grace, her body flowing like water around the attack. The princess''s momentum carried her past her target, claws raking through empty air where Minghua had stood a fraction of a second earlier.


    Without breaking rhythm, Minghua pivoted on one foot, her movements resembling a courtly dance more than combat. She extended her arm in a fluid arc, sending a precisely calibrated barrage of blood needles toward the princess. Each projectile targeted a specific pressure point¡ªjoints, nerve clusters, and subtle weaknesses in the transformed physiology that Hualing''s brute force approach had failed to exploit.


    Most of the needles were deflected by the princess''s supernatural reflexes, but several found their marks, embedding themselves in seemingly insignificant locations along her shoulders and thighs. Athena snarled in irritation rather than pain, dismissing these minor wounds as inconsequential. She remained unaware that each needle served as a conduit, allowing Minghua to draw minute amounts of blood through these connections, gradually replenishing her depleted reserves.


    The princess renewed her assault, this time with a series of controlled strikes rather than wild lunges. She had begun to adapt to Minghua''s evasive style, her bestial instincts working in concert with her trained combat awareness. Claws whistled through the air with deadly precision, forcing Minghua into increasingly complex evasive patterns.


    A particularly vicious swipe grazed Minghua''s shoulder, drawing fresh blood. Instead of allowing the wound to close immediately, she channeled the escaping crimson liquid into a spiraling ribbon that hardened into a crystalline blade. With a single fluid motion, she brought this improvised weapon across the princess''s exposed forearm, creating a shallow cut that mirrored her own injury.


    Minghua absorbed the princess''s spilled blood, metabolizing it to heal her own wound while simultaneously weakening her opponent. The process was far more efficient than Hualing''s wholesale absorption, requiring less energy and yielding greater benefits.


    Athena''s bestial features twisted with growing frustration. She had faced countless opponents in her training¡ªskilled knights, veteran warriors, even magical creatures with extraordinary abilities¡ªbut none had fought quite like this. Minghua moved with a dancer''s precision, each step calculated, each strike measured, creating an ever-shifting puzzle that the princess''s feral mind struggled to solve.


    The transformed princess dropped to all fours, her posture becoming fully animalistic as she circled her opponent. This regression to quadrupedal movement signaled a deeper surrender to her Battle Frenzy transformation, sacrificing human technique for pure predatory instinct. Her muscles bunched beneath her fur-covered skin, preparing for an explosive pounce that would overwhelm Minghua''s defensive dance.


    Anticipating the attack, Minghua prepared a complex blood barrier, drawing the crimson liquid from the surrounding area into concentric rings of protection. The princess launched herself with terrifying speed, her trajectory a perfect arc calculated to overcome Minghua''s defenses.


    Athena''s claws tore through the first two layers of the blood barrier, dissipating them into crimson mist, but the innermost shield held. The impact sent both combatants sliding across the chamber floor, locked together in a temporary stalemate. Minghua''s arms strained against the princess''s supernatural strength, blood reinforcing her muscles to maintain the deadlock. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Their faces were inches apart, the princess''s feral snarl contrasting with Minghua''s composed expression. For a moment, they remained frozen. Around them, the battered chamber bore testament to the extraordinary conflict, its reinforced walls cracked and floor shattered from the exchange of supernatural forces.


    In this moment of perfect balance, catastrophe struck.


    The western wall exploded inward with a thunderous boom, chunks of reinforced material flying across the chamber. Through the dust and debris stepped a figure of modest height wearing a rat-shaped mask, his casual stance belying the incredible force required to breach the supposedly impenetrable barrier.


    "Oh, and what do we have here?" The newcomer''s voice carried a lilting curiosity, head tilting as he surveyed the frozen tableau before him.

 Chapter 132 132: Kidnapped [PART 2]

    Both combatants turned toward the unexpected intrusion, momentarily united in their surprise. Before either could react, the masked figure vanished from the breach¡ªonly to materialize directly between them. His movements defied normal perception, beyond even their enhanced reflexes.


    With economical precision, he delivered a single punch to each of them. The impacts were deceptively gentle, almost dismissive, yet both Minghua and the princess immediately collapsed to the floor, consciousness fleeing like shadows before dawn.


    The rat-masked figure stood motionless for a moment, seemingly contemplating his handiwork before beginning a casual exploration of the chamber. His attention quickly settled on Ambrose''s unconscious form near the bed.


    "It''s really just as Sir Dragon had predicted," he remarked to the empty room, approaching the fallen Rothschild heir with measured steps.


    As he reached down to touch Ambrose, he paused abruptly. "A charm technique?" he wondered aloud, his masked head tilting with momentary curiosity. After a brief consideration, he dismissed whatever sensation had given him pause, grasping Ambrose and slinging the slender youth across one shoulder with casual ease.


    Turning back to survey the room once more, he approached the princess''s unconscious form. Her bestial features had already begun to recede, the transformation failing without conscious will to maintain it. He hoisted her onto his other shoulder with the same effortless motion, despite his relatively small stature.


    Finally, his masked visage turned toward Minghua''s crumpled form. He stood in contemplation, appearing to weigh some internal debate regarding her fate. After several moments of consideration, he simply shrugged.


    "Well, this has nothing to do with the mission," he concluded, dismissing her as irrelevant to his objectives.


    Without further hesitation, he turned and leapt through the gaping hole he had created in the wall. Despite bearing the weight of two bodies, he soared into the afternoon sky with impossible grace, vanishing from sight within seconds.


    ¡­


    "This place?" Aurora asked, her golden eyes glowing slightly. "How do I put it... this place is the top edge of the world, also known as the Source of Creation."


    Her melodic voice resonated through the ethereal chamber as chains clinked softly with her gestures. "This is a point where all laws converge as they sprout from the World Seed," she explained, her hands tracing elegant patterns in the air as if mapping cosmic architecture. "Here, reality itself is born."


    Ambrose nodded thoughtfully, his analytical mind cataloging each piece of information. The concept aligned with certain theoretical models he had studied, though none had suggested such a realm might be physically accessible.


    "How does one get here?" he asked, eyes scanning the endless white expanse surrounding them.


    "After breaking through the God Stage, you can access the Source of Creation," she explained with the casual certainty of someone describing a familiar neighborhood.


    "The God Stage?" Ambrose wondered. This terminology was entirely new to him. Based on the hierarchical power classification he knew¡ªfrom F through Transcendent¡ªhe assumed this God Stage must represent some threshold beyond even Transcendent.


    "But I''ve met people in here that are dead," he said, recalling his encounter with the War Goddess. "I even saw a young Rothschild."


    Aurora nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "As the Source of Creation, many laws converge here, including time," she clarified. "It''s not weird to meet dead people here." Her brow furrowed slightly. "But being able to interact with them... that''s strange."


    She studied him with renewed interest, a subtle calculation playing behind her luminous eyes. Coming to think of it, he hadn''t even reached the Transcendent Stage, yet here he stood in a realm supposedly accessible only to those who had transcended godhood itself. She dismissed the thought with an almost imperceptible shake of her head¡ªthere was no point trying to understand "HIM."


    Ambrose held his chin in contemplation, connecting threads of information with his extraordinary mental capabilities. After processing several parallel lines of reasoning, he looked up.


    "Is there another realm that looks just like this that is dark?" he asked.


    Aurora''s expression flashed with genuine surprise before she quickly composed herself. Ambrose noted this reaction, filing it away as significant.


    "This is the Source of Creation where everything converges as creation starts," she replied, her voice taking on a more cautious tone. "But located at the bottom edge of the world is the End of Creation where everything spreads out until there are no laws available to form anything, and there''s just... nothing."


    Her fingers traced a pattern that suggested dissolution, particles scattering into oblivion.


    "If you ever find such a place," she warned, golden eyes intense, "it''s advisable to not go anywhere near it. Not even a God-level being can survive the End of Creation."


    Ambrose nodded impassively, his expression revealing nothing of his internal deliberations. Could the dark expanse he''d encountered be this End of Creation she described? He acknowledged that the murky void did possess qualities of ending and devouring¡ªa fundamental emptiness that seemed to consume rather than create.


    Yet he had never felt in danger there, despite Aurora''s dire warning. The only concern had been his tendency to appear deeper within the expanse with each visit¡ªa problem he''d already solved by developing limited control over that environment.


    Still, he hadn''t expected these two expanses to have such cosmic significance: one the origin of all existence, the other its ultimate dissolution. How was he able to access such fundamental planes of reality? Was the system deliberately guiding him? That would explain why the system kept knocking him unconscious, deposited in these realms as if being directed toward some discovery.


    But what could be so important that it required him to explore the very foundations of creation and destruction? What secrets lay within these primordial spaces that might prove essential to his journey? For now, he had no idea, he wondered if the system would give him a hint.


    [Ding!...]


    ¡­


    Adelaide stood motionless in the narrow street, her eyes fixed on the figure whose back was turned to her. The familiar silhouette and stance ignited a spark of recognition that overrode all caution.


    "Dad, is that you?" she called out, her voice wavering with uncertainty as she took tentative steps forward.


    "I think you have the wrong person, kid," came the reply, a deep baritone that neither confirmed nor denied her suspicion.


    Adelaide shook her head, conviction strengthening her resolve. "There is no way I could be mistaken. It''s definitely you, right?" S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She replayed the memory in her mind with perfect clarity ¨C the archer under the hood, the momentary glimpse of his face when he''d loosed the arrow that had saved her life. She''d stake her merchant''s reputation on that identification. Yet questions cascaded through her thoughts. What was her father doing in the middle of the capital during an attack? Since when had the mild-mannered merchant developed such formidable archery skills? The Maximilian Brightwell she knew dealt in ledgers and contracts, not bows and arrows.


    As she closed the distance between them, the figure suddenly turned around to face her. Adelaide froze, shock widening her eyes. Instead of her father''s familiar features, a complete stranger''s face stared back at her ¨C unfamiliar eyes, different nose, nothing that resembled Maximilian Brightwell.


    "I don''t know who your dad is," the man stated flatly, "but I''m sure he wouldn''t like it if you went acknowledging random strangers as your dad." Before Adelaide could formulate a response, he added dismissively, "Now if you''ll excuse me."


    What happened next shocked her, black wings ¨C actual wings ¨C unfurled from the man''s back, extending to an impressive span before beating powerfully against the air. With several powerful strokes, he ascended skyward, leaving Adelaide staring openmouthed at his retreating form.


    She remained rooted in place, confusion etching itself across her features. How was this possible? She had definitely seen her father''s face. Her merchant''s mind, trained to detect counterfeit goods and dishonest traders, couldn''t be so easily deceived. Was he using some skill to disguise his appearance? But her father didn''t have any talent? A magical artifact perhaps? But how come he had wings, she could explain him having exceptional archery skills, maybe he had trained in sacred, but a talent? Had he been hiding his abilities all this time?


    "Adelaide!"


    The shout broke through her bewildered rumination. Turning, she spotted Marcus and Meihua rushing toward her, concern evident in their expressions.


    "What were you thinking?" Meihua demanded, doubling over as she struggled to catch her breath. "How could you move on your own when there is so much going on? We were so worried!"


    A small, apologetic smile crossed Adelaide''s face. "I''m sorry," she offered simply. "I just thought I saw someone familiar."


    Behind them, a black-cloaked attacker emerged from a side alley, weapon raised. Marcus reacted with practiced efficiency, drawing his blade in a fluid arc that intercepted the assailant mid-charge. The attacker crumpled instantly, threat neutralized.


    With casual precision, Marcus flicked his sword to remove the blood before returning it to its sheath in one smooth motion. "We should get moving if we want to catch up with the young master and the rest," he stated practically, already scanning their surroundings for the most efficient route.


    Adelaide nodded, casting one final glance at the empty sky before following her companions. The mystery of the winged man ¨C and whether he truly was her father ¨C would have to wait for another time.

 Chapter 133 133: Skill Upgrade

    In the secluded depths of the forest outside Lumina Crown, Maximilian walked alone beneath the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. The features he had worn as disguise¡ªborrowed from the demon fragment¡ªbegan to shift and contort. His skin rippled like disturbed water, bone structure realigning with audible creaks as his face gradually returned to its familiar form.


    "I can never get used to this," he muttered, fingers tracing the contours of his face, reassuring himself that his true appearance had fully returned. He winced slightly at the lingering sensation¡ªlike pins and needles across his skin where the transformation had taken place.


    The small demonic entity perched on his shoulder observed him with its singular, massive eye that blinked occasionally with an unnerving wetness. The creature''s gaze held a strange intelligence as it studied its host.


    "Was that really okay?" the demon inquired, its voice surprisingly delicate for such an otherworldly being.


    "Was what okay?" Maximilian responded, though he already anticipated the creature''s concern. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "About your daughter..." The demon''s voice trailed off meaningfully.


    Maximilian''s expression hardened, the momentary tenderness evaporating from his features. "And who''s fault do you think it is that I can''t see my kids?" he challenged, the accusation hanging heavily between them.


    The demon fell silent, its enormous eye blinking rapidly before darting away, unwilling to meet Maximilian''s piercing gaze. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, it changed the subject.


    "Where are we going now?" it asked, its tone deliberately lighter.


    "No idea," Maximilian replied with casual indifference. "Let''s just move east."


    With that declaration, massive black wings erupted from his back, spreading wide with an audible snap. The feathers rustled in the forest breeze as he launched upward, powerful wingbeats carrying him above the treeline and into the vast open sky beyond.


    ¡­


    When Ambrose saw the notification appear before him, a surge of excitement coursed through his being. Could it be? Was his hypothesis correct? Would the system finally show him the path forward? He wondered how it was going to do it, would it straight up ask him or would it unlock some sort of quest function. His anticipation built rapidly, only to deflate just as quickly when he read the actual notifications that followed.


    [Ding!]


    [The host has overcome their mental limits]


    The stream of notifications continued to flow:


    [Skill [Mathematician] has been upgraded]


    Though not what he''d been hoping for, surprise still registered within him. His Mathematician skill ranked among his most valuable abilities, enhancing the mental faculties he relied upon most heavily. Even as he processed the notification, he could already sense the difference taking effect, his mind expanding in ways difficult to articulate. With practiced efficiency, he summoned the system interface to examine the upgraded skill:


    [Mathematician](Unique) - A rare talent that has evolved to fundamentally reshape reality through the mind''s incomprehensible processing capabilities. This transcendent mathematical insight allows the user to perceive, understand, and manipulate the underlying mathematical principles that govern existence itself. (Subskills: [Reality Simulation](SSS), [Rational Mind](SS), [Mental Fortress](SS), [Perfect Recall](SS), [Thought Acceleration](SS), [Parallel Processing](SS), [Time Perception](S))


    Ambrose observed the descriptions of his enhanced abilities with genuine amazement. His Rational Mind skill had improved significantly, which sparked a subtle uneasiness within him. As the skill grew stronger, it was helpful to him but it became harder and harder for him to control it, at this rate, the skill might really take control of him.


    His other abilities had undergone considerable enhancement as well, with Thought Acceleration and Parallel Processing standing out as particularly noteworthy:


    [Thought Acceleration](SS) - Transcends conventional mental speed, allowing the mind to operate at near-infinite speed. Mental processing accelerates by a factor of 10,000, enabling the user to experience milliseconds as hours of subjective thought time. In this state, the user can perform years of mental computation in seconds, analyze countless variables simultaneously, and consider every possible outcome of any decision instantly. This acceleration applies to all mental functions, granting seemingly precognitive reaction capabilities as the mind processes information far faster than events can unfold.


    [Parallel Processing](SS) - Evolves to allow the mind to fragment into countless independent yet unified thought streams. The user can maintain hundreds of completely separate mental processes simultaneously, each operating at full capacity with total access to all mental resources. These processes can work cooperatively or independently on different tasks, effectively multiplying the user''s mental capability by orders of magnitude. The mind becomes a vast network of interconnected yet independent thought engines, enabling simultaneous analysis of countless complex problems with no reduction in efficiency.


    Even now, he was leveraging his enhanced Thought Acceleration to process information at extraordinary speeds while simultaneously employing Parallel Processing to maintain his conversation with Aurora. The goddess remained completely unaware of his mental gymnastics, as he executed these complex cognitive maneuvers with effortless precision.


    Impressive as these upgraded abilities were, they paled in comparison to the entirely new skill that had manifested following the enhancement:


    [Reality Simulation](SSS) - An extraordinary ability that allows the user to create perfect mental models of reality and run complex simulations within their mind. By leveraging their transcendent computational capabilities, the user can create detailed simulations of any scenario using observed variables and mathematical principles. These simulations can model complex systems with near-perfect accuracy, from combat encounters to economic markets to weather patterns. The user can run thousands of different simulation branches simultaneously, testing different variables and actions to predict outcomes with astonishing precision. The accuracy of these simulations depends on the quality of available data, with familiar scenarios reaching up to 99.8% accuracy. Most remarkably, these simulations can be run in subjective time measured in nanoseconds, allowing the user to explore countless potential futures before making a single move. The mental strain scales with simulation complexity and duration, with planetary-scale simulations or extremely long-term predictions requiring significant mental resources.


    This new capability represented a quantum leap in his mental arsenal, offering possibilities that even his analytical mind had yet to fully comprehend. Though he had yet to test it yet, he instantly understood what the skill was all about. He guessed that it seemed to originate from his time side of his Space-time talent. With this skill, he could do the simulations for new techniques more easily than before, this meant that he would be able to study new space and time abilities easily. He thought to himself that he''d use it to simulate after he woke up to see if he could finally grasp the Time Dominion skill he''d been trying to learn this whole time.

 Chapter 134 134: The Chairman

    The confrontation between the Association Chairman and the Rooster-masked figure escalated with frightening speed. What began as a standoff rapidly transformed into a clash of titans that would leave scars across Lumina''s cityscape. The two warriors faced each other amid the rubble of the Hero Association''s shattered entrance.


    Chairman Darius Stormcrest rolled his shoulders, the remnants of his once-pristine uniform hanging in tatters around his muscular torso. Across the debris-strewn courtyard, the Rooster-masked figure stood with unsettling stillness, the ornate mask''s crimson and gold detailing catching the afternoon sunlight in flashes of brilliant color.


    "Your technique is impressive," Darius acknowledged, his weathered voice carrying across the battlefield. "But I''m curious why the Empire would risk open war with such a brazen attack."


    The masked figure offered no response, his silence unsettling.


    Without warning, both combatants vanished¡ªtheir forms blurring beyond visual perception as they launched themselves forward. They collided at the courtyard''s center with catastrophic force, the impact generating a thunderous shockwave that shattered windows throughout the surrounding district. Buildings trembled on their foundations as concentric rings of displaced air expanded outward from the point of contact.


    Their exchange of blows defied conventional understanding of combat. Each strike carried enough force to level buildings, yet was delivered with precision that spoke of decades of mastered technique. The Chairman''s fist connected with the Rooster''s mask, the impact reverberating through the air like artillery fire. In the same instant, the masked figure''s knee drove into Darius''s abdomen with enough force to create a localized vacuum, air rushing back with a thunderclap as physics reasserted itself.


    Neither combatant showed signs of yielding. The Chairman recovered instantly from what should have been a debilitating blow, pivoting on his heel to deliver a roundhouse kick that displaced enough air to create visible distortion around his leg. The Rooster-masked figure caught the strike with crossed forearms, his feet carving twin furrows through solid stone as he was driven backward.


    "SSS-rank," Darius realized, reassessing his opponent''s capabilities upward. "To think that there is such a person in the Empire that isn''t part of the Four Generals."


    The masked figure capitalized on the momentary realization, closing distance with impossible speed. His assault became a blur of strikes¡ªeach punch, each kick flowing into the next with mechanical precision yet artistic grace. Darius defended with equal skill, his body seeming to instinctively predict the pattern of attacks, intercepting or redirecting each lethal strike by fractions of inches.


    Where their limbs connected, space itself seemed to protest. The air cracked and distorted, kinetic energy dispersing in visible waves that pulverized nearby debris into fine dust. Cobblestones beneath their feet began to fracture, then disintegrate entirely, creating an expanding crater that threatened the structural integrity of surrounding buildings.


    The Chairman abruptly changed tactics, abandoning his defensive posture to launch a counteroffensive of staggering intensity. His movements became near-impossible to track, attacking from multiple angles simultaneously as though physics had become merely a polite suggestion rather than an immutable law. The Rooster''s defense faltered momentarily against this overwhelming assault, a powerful strike slipping through to connect with his shoulder.


    The masked figure was launched skyward, his body carving an arc through the air before he stabilized himself mid-flight. Without pausing to reconsider, he plummeted back toward the Chairman like a meteor, the air around him ionizing from sheer velocity. Their collision created an impact crater that expanded outward in cracking, shattering stone, the shockwave powerful enough to collapse the weakened walls of nearby structures.


    Citizens who had taken refuge in distant districts felt the ground tremble beneath their feet. Royal knights who attempted to approach the battle zone were forced back by the atmospheric pressure alone, their armor offering no protection against the rippling waves of force that emanated from each exchange.


    As the battle intensified, their movements became increasingly difficult for normal perception to process. They appeared almost as afterimages, their actual positions constantly shifting as they exchanged hundreds of blows in the span of seconds. Each impact generated localized atmospheric disturbances¡ªminiature thunderclaps that merged into a continuous roar of destruction.


    The Rooster-masked figure suddenly changed patterns, sacrificing defense to land a devastating upward palm strike to Darius''s chin. The Chairman''s head snapped back, his body momentarily airborne from the force. Taking advantage of this opening, the masked figure delivered a brutal combination¡ªa strike to the solar plexus followed by an elbow to the temple that sent Darius crashing through a half-collapsed wall.


    Stone and mortar exploded outward as the Chairman''s body carved through the structure. Yet before the debris had even settled, Darius emerged from the ruins, his expression darkening with focused intensity. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his stance revealed no weakness.


    "Enough warming up," he announced, his voice carrying an edge that hadn''t been present before.


    What followed could scarcely be called combat in conventional terms. The Chairman seemed to fold space around himself, condensing potential energy into his movements. Each strike carried exponentially more force as though he were channeling the power of natural catastrophes through his limbs.


    The Rooster-masked figure met this escalation with matching intensity. His movements became more fluid, almost liquid in their organic unpredictability. Where the Chairman embodied overwhelming force, the masked combatant represented perfect adaptation¡ªcontinuously evolving his techniques to counter each new approach.


    Their battle transformed the Hero Association''s courtyard into an apocalyptic landscape. Deep fissures spread outward from their position, buildings sagged inward as their foundations were compromised by the continuous seismic activity. The air seemed to grow heavy with discharged energy, creating localized weather phenomena as moisture condensed and evaporated with each temperature fluctuation caused by their exchange. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In a moment that defied expectation, the Chairman feinted left before delivering a punishing right cross that connected squarely with the Rooster mask. The impact created a sound like breaking thunder, the masked figure''s body hurtling backward to crash through several walls before skidding to a stop amid a shower of pulverized stone.


    But instead of continuing the pattern established throughout their battle¡ªrising to resume combat with undiminished vigor¡ªthe masked figure remained motionless for several heartbeats. Then, with deliberate calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos surrounding them, he reached into his tattered cloak.


    Darius tensed, anticipating some new weapon or technique. Instead, the Rooster-masked figure withdrew a small, unassuming orb that gleamed with subtle inner light. Before the Chairman could close the distance between them, the masked figure activated the device. Space distorted around him, folding inward with a sound like tearing fabric.


    In the span of a single breath, the Rooster-masked figure vanished completely, the spatial dislocation collapsing in upon itself with a sound like distant thunder.


    Darius stood amid the devastation, momentarily stunned by his opponent''s unexpected retreat. He wondered why the sudden retreat.


    Realization suddenly dawned upon him. The masked figures weren''t simply attacking the capital as a show of force or act of terrorism¡ªthey had specific objectives. The Chairman''s eyes widened as understanding crystallized.


    "Oh no!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying rare alarm. "The princess and the young master!"


    Without further hesitation, Darius launched himself skyward, his powerful form cutting through the air as he flew toward the royal palace with desperate urgency, leaving behind a n apocalyptic cityscape altered by their confrontation.

 Chapter 135 135: It Was A Success

    Marcus, Adelaide, and Meihua raced toward the royal estate, their footsteps pounding against cobblestones already slick with blood. The path before them told a grim story¡ªbodies of royal knights and black-cloaked attackers lay strewn across the ground like discarded puppets, their final expressions frozen in eternal combat.


    Marcus''s trained eye surveyed the carnage as they ran. The aftermath of the chairman''s battle was evident in the structural damage that surrounded them¡ªcollapsed walls, cratered streets, and scorch marks. He wondered briefly who had emerged victorious from that titanic clash, but quickly pushed the thought aside. There would be time for such questions later; right now, finding Ambrose took priority above all else.


    As they approached the princess''s residence, an ominous sight greeted them. The building''s elegant facade was marred by a massive rupture¡ªnot merely a broken window or damaged door, but an enormous gaping hole torn through solid stone as though the wall had been paper. The jagged edges of the breach revealed the thickness of what should have been impenetrable royal defenses, now rendered meaningless by whatever catastrophic force had been unleashed.


    Marcus paused at the sight, an inexplicable chill crawling up his spine. The destruction here felt different somehow¡ªmore deliberate, more precise than the chaotic devastation they''d witnessed at the chairman''s battleground.


    Without exchanging words, the three companions approached the massive opening. With practiced movements, they scaled the rubble and climbed through the breach, stepping carefully over chunks of shattered stone as they entered the princess''s private chambers.


    ¡­


    From the shattered floor of the princess''s chambers, Minghua watched helplessly as Ambrose disappeared into the distance, his unconscious form slung carelessly over the rat-masked figure''s shoulder. Her body refused to cooperate, muscles screaming in protest as she struggled to stand. Hualing''s frantic voice echoed through their shared consciousness, a storm of rage and desperation that threatened to overwhelm them both.


    "Calm down, do you think I don''t know that already?" Minghua snapped internally, her patience fracturing under the weight of Hualing''s relentless screaming. When the primal fury continued unabated, she mentally partitioned their consciousness, pushing Hualing''s rage into a corner of their shared mind where it could rage without disrupting her focus.


    Minghua turned her attention inward. The masked man''s strike had been deceptively gentle, yet devastatingly effective¡ªrupturing organs and severing blood vessels throughout her body. Though no blood spilled externally, her internal landscape was a catastrophe of hemorrhaging tissue.


    She concentrated on the damaged areas, exerting her blood manipulation with surgical delicacy. Under her command, droplets of spilled blood reversed their chaotic paths, flowing back into torn vessels. She directed the crimson fluid to form microscopic sutures¡ªliving threads that stitched together lacerated organs, providing temporary scaffolding until her accelerated healing could complete its work.


    The process demanded absolute concentration. Each heartbeat threatened to undo her meticulous repairs, requiring constant adjustments to maintain the fragile equilibrium. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she reconstructed her shattered internal architecture, cell by cell and vessel by vessel.


    By the time her body had stabilized enough to attempt standing, Hualing''s fury had finally exhausted itself into silence. The momentary mental quiet allowed Minghua to evaluate their situation with clarity, weighing their limited options with cold calculation.


    Her first instinct was to repeat their previous desperate measure¡ªsuicide followed by revival through Ambrose''s blood oath ability. The thought evaporated as quickly as it formed. Even if Ambrose regained consciousness, the Blood Revival skill would still be on cooldown, rendering this approach impossible. Moreover, without knowing his condition, such a gamble could prove catastrophic for them both.


    A long, weary sigh escaped her lips as she accepted the only viable course of action. Their blood oath connection remained intact despite the distance, providing a faint but unmistakable tether to Ambrose''s location. The kidnappers appeared to be moving cautiously, likely attempting to avoid detection as they retreated from the capital with their prizes.


    This presented an opportunity. She would track them through the blood oath, maintaining enough distance to avoid detection while practicing the deployment of her authority¡ªthat precious, dangerous power she had acquired at such great cost. By the time she caught up with the kidnappers, she would have mastered using it efficiently within this body.


    "I can''t fight them directly," she acknowledged to herself, recalling the casual ease with which the rat-masked figure had incapacitated both her and Princess Athena simultaneously. "And if he''s working with the Rooster-mask..." The thought sent a chill through her newly-repaired organs. One such opponent would be nearly impossible; two would be certain death.


    No, direct confrontation would be suicide without the possibility of revival. Her strategy would need to focus exclusively on extraction¡ªa precision rescue operation followed by immediate escape. With her blood manipulation abilities and tracking skills, she was confident they would never detect her presence until the moment she struck.


    As she mentally finalized her approach, the sound of movement near the ruined wall caught her attention. Her muscles tensed instinctively, blood pooling in her palms in preparation for combat. Had the masked figure returned to finish what he''d started?


    The tension eased marginally as Marcus, Adelaide, and Meihua climbed through the gaping hole in the wall. While not enemies, their appearance complicated her plans. She had no intention of explaining herself or negotiating with them¡ªevery moment spent here was another moment Ambrose slipped further from reach.


    "You''re here," Marcus acknowledged, his eyes quickly scanning the devastated chamber before settling on her with visible confusion. "Where is the young master?"


    "Gone!" she replied curtly, already moving toward the exit.


    "What do you mean, ''gone''?" Marcus pressed, stepping into her path.


    "He was taken away," she explained with barely concealed impatience. "Now if you''ll excuse me, I''ll go find him." She attempted to sidestep the swordsman, but he shifted to block her again.


    "Wait!" Marcus insisted, earning a flash of irritation across her features.


    "What now?" The question emerged like a blade drawn from its sheath.


    "If he was able to take the young master and the princess, then that means he''s stronger than you," Marcus reasoned, his tone equal parts concern and caution.


    Minghua''s eyes narrowed dangerously. "And... your point is?"


    The swordsman faltered momentarily, clearly surprised by her response. And something in her demeanor also struck him as unusual¡ªalthough she seemed impatient, it wasn''t to the point of unrestrained aggression typical of Hualing. Nevertheless, he persisted.


    "Since he''s stronger, how are you going to get the young master back?" he asked, genuine concern evident beneath his practicality.


    "I have my own ways," she answered dismissively.


    "Why don''t you¡ª" he began, but she cut him off.


    "Do what? Train in the mountains until I''m strong enough to go get the master?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.


    "That''s not what I¡ª" Marcus attempted to clarify, only to be interrupted again.


    "You might as well have," she snapped, patience completely exhausted. "I have no interest in playing house with you kids."


    Without warning, crimson wings erupted from her back¡ªliving constructs of crystallized blood that unfurled with elegant, lethal beauty. The sudden manifestation caught Marcus off-guard, the pressure from their expansion sending him stumbling backward until he landed unceremoniously on the floor.


    Minghua didn''t spare him another glance. With a powerful leap and a single beat of her blood-forged wings, she launched herself through the shattered wall and into the open air beyond. The crimson appendages caught the wind with surprising efficiency, carrying her swiftly away from the royal estate and toward the faint pulse of her blood oath connection.


    Behind her, Marcus and the others stared in stunned silence at her rapidly diminishing silhouette against the darkening sky.


    ¡­


    In a dimly lit room in the Xia Empire''s, Dragon sat with perfect posture, his ornate dragon mask catching the flickering lamplight as he studied the crystal communication orb before him. The orb pulsed with ethereal energy, its surface swirling with images from distant Lumina Crown.


    "Confirmed," he announced, satisfaction evident despite his mask concealing his expression. "Both targets secured. The princess and the Rothschild heir are en route to the rendezvous point."


    Rabbit stood at attention nearby, her slim figure motionless save for the slight tilt of her rabbit-masked head. "So our operation was a success," she observed, her voice carefully neutral. "The Rat has performed admirably."


    Dragon nodded once, the gesture deliberate and measured. "As expected. Though we lost several operatives, the primary objectives were achieved."


    A moment of contemplative silence passed between them before Rabbit voiced the question that had been troubling her. "If I may ask, why didn''t you instruct them to return immediately with the targets? Wouldn''t that be more efficient than this circuitous extraction route?"


    Dragon''s fingers tapped rhythmically against the table''s polished surface, a rare sign of his amusement. "Think, Rabbit. If they used a spatial transportation circle to return instantly, what would happen?"


    "Friedrich Rothschild would detect the spatial fluctuations," she replied after careful consideration. "His Time talent would allow him to trace the signature back to us." S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Precisely."


    "But won''t he know either way?" Rabbit pressed, her practical mind seeking the logical conclusion. "Once he discovers his son is missing?"


    Dragon leaned back in his ornate chair, the wood creaking slightly beneath his weight. "You think too much, yet not enough," he chided, though without malice. "Consider the larger picture. What happens when it becomes known that the heir of House Rothschild was taken right under the royal family''s watch?"


    Rabbit''s posture straightened as understanding dawned. "It would demonstrate that the royal family lacks true power. Other noble houses might begin to view them as vulnerable, weakening the kingdom''s internal cohesion." Her voice grew more confident as she followed the strategic thread. "And Friedrich Rothschild would come to the capital demanding explanations, creating further friction within their power structure."


    "Exactly right," Dragon confirmed, satisfaction evident in his tone. "And that''s precisely why the royal family will cover for us. They cannot afford to let this abduction become public knowledge. They will deploy all their resources to recover the heir quietly while maintaining the illusion that nothing is amiss."


    He spread his hands in a gesture of theatrical triumph. "Their own pride and self-preservation will buy us the time we need. Aren''t I a genius?"


    Rabbit responded by bringing her hands together in a slow, deliberate clap, her mask remaining expressionless throughout the performance.


    Dragon''s shoulders slumped slightly. "That doesn''t make me feel good. Stop it,"

 Chapter 136 136: Detain Them

    Marcus remained rooted to the spot as Hualing''s crimson figure diminished against the horizon. A troubled frown creased his features as he processed what had just occurred. Something fundamental about her had changed¡ªnot just the unexpected blood wings, but her entire demeanor. The cold calculation in her eyes, the measured speech patterns, even her posture had been distinctly different from the Hualing he knew. The transformation reminded him eerily of the version he''d encountered in his future timeline.


    From the side of the devastated chamber, Meihua observed the exchange with interest. That must have been Minghua, she realized, recalling fragments from the original story about Hualing''s alternate personality. She understood the basics of blood manipulation well enough¡ªit was a cornerstone of the Blood talent¡ªbut the sophistication of those wings represented an application that should have required years of experience to master. How had Hualing developed such control so early? The timeline was accelerating, diverging further from the narrative she knew, and she strongly suspected Ambrose was the catalyst for these accelerated changes.


    Adelaide helped Marcus to his feet, brushing debris from his clothing gently. Meihua watched them both carefully, already anticipating what would come next. Marcus was, after all, the quintessential hero archetype¡ªhis entire character built around an unshakable moral compass that would never permit abandoning someone in need, especially not someone who had shown him kindness. Even knowing that he lacked the power to challenge opponents of such caliber wouldn''t deter him¡ªit wasn''t in his nature to calculate odds when justice was at stake.


    As if confirming her prediction, Marcus straightened to his full height, a grim determination settling over his features. "Guys, the young master was taken away," he stated, emotion thickening his voice. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening with resolve.


    "The young master has always looked out for us," he continued, the memory of Ambrose''s countless acts of assistance fueling his determination. "I can''t let him be taken by those guys." His voice hardened with conviction, eyes sweeping between his companions. "I will definitely go to save him." The simple declaration carried the weight of an oath.


    He looked up, meeting their gazes directly. "Will you guys join me?"


    Meihua couldn''t suppress the small, knowing smile that touched her lips. Marcus was proving as predictable as the sunrise¡ªbut she didn''t mind this, after all, she could get some benefits by joining Marcus and even more by accomplishing the mission. Though it was hard, she didn''t doubt that Marcus could do it. "I''ll join you," she responded without hesitation.


    Adelaide, standing beside them, seemed momentarily surprised by their righteous determination. Being from a merchant family, she naturally evaluated situations through the lens of profit and loss, risk and reward. But she had also developed a genuine connection to their group, and more practically, her future prospects were inextricably linked to Ambrose''s welfare.


    "I''ll join you too," she declared, her merchant''s practicality aligning perfectly with their moral imperative. "The young master is my backing¡ªI have to help him" She thought.


    With those simple declarations, amid the ruins of the princess''s chambers, their rescue team was formed. They had no detailed plan, little understanding of their enemy''s capabilities, and even less certainty of success¡­


    ¡­


    "Do you know about the weak body physique?" Ambrose asked, seeing an opportunity to extract valuable information from the goddess while he had her attention. Since he was already in the presence of such a powerful being, why not leverage this encounter to his advantage?


    Aurora tilted her head slightly, "Weak body?" she repeated, chains shifting softly as she adjusted her position. "I haven''t heard of such a physique. Is there really such a thing?"


    Ambrose couldn''t hide his surprise at her response. How could a goddess be unfamiliar with something like this?


    "Have you heard of any physiques that make someone weaker?" he asked, broadening his question. Perhaps the terminology varied across eras or realms; the concept might exist under a different name.


    "Makes someone weaker..." Aurora''s eyes drifted upward as she seemed to be in deep thought. After a moment of contemplation, her expression brightened with recognition. "Now that I think about it, the Chosen Hero did indeed have a constitution that made him weaker. Are you asking about that?"


    Ambrose was surprised by this revelation. His ancestor¡ªthe First Hero Rothschild, also had the same physique as him? But how was that even possible? How could the first hero have been a weak person?


    "How weak are we talking?" he pressed.


    "Quite weak actually," Aurora confirmed. "Below the level of an average F-rank hero."


    "But wasn''t he the first hero?" Ambrose challenged, "How could he have been so weak?"


    The goddess''s lips curved into a knowing smile. "It''s quite simple, actually," she stated, causing Ambrose to raise his eyebrows in anticipation.


    "He just thought faster than everyone else," she revealed.


    The words resonated through Ambrose''s mind. Thought faster. It was the exact same thing the War Goddess Celestia had told him, it even appeared in the system''s tip section. He didn''t think that it was a coincidence that he and the First Hero had the same condition.


    As he maintained his conversation with Aurora, Ambrose''s enhanced mind raced along parallel tracks of thought. His Thought Acceleration skill propelled his cognitive processes to extraordinary speeds, while Parallel Processing allowed him to maintain multiple complex analyses simultaneously without sacrificing depth or clarity.


    What connection did he truly share with the first hero? Earlier in this white expanse, he''d met both the first hero and the spirit who''d gifted him the system. When questioned about the system''s origin, the spirit had confirmed it was related to the first hero.


    Did this mean the system had originally belonged to his ancestor? Had the first Rothschild achieved heroic status because of the system''s advantages? Or had he perhaps created the system himself after attaining heroism through his superior thinking speed?


    ¡­


    Marcus, Adelaide, and Meihua slipped away from the capital while the streets were still in chaos. The royal guards were preoccupied with containing the situation, giving them the perfect opportunity to escape unnoticed. Marcus understood the situation all too well¡ªthe royal family would never allow news of the kidnapping to spread. If they remained, they''d likely be detained as witnesses, kept under guard until the situation was resolved through official channels.


    "We need to move quickly," Marcus whispered as they navigated through back alleys, keeping to the shadows. "The longer we stay, the higher the chance we''ll be caught and prevented from pursuing the young master."


    Once they''d put sufficient distance between themselves and the capital, they found shelter in a small roadside inn. Gathered around a worn wooden table in the corner of the common room, they began to plan their rescue mission.


    "So, how are we going to rescue the young master? You''re not thinking of just charging in right?" Meihua asked, raising an eyebrow. Both women fixed their gaze on Marcus, waiting for his response.


    "Well..." His voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering across his face.


    Meihua studied his hesitation, then offered her own analysis. "Actually, we still have a lot of time," she said, leaning forward. "Those people from the Empire probably won''t try making any big movements. If they did, the Rothschild patriarch would notice it immediately."


    She tapped her fingers thoughtfully against the table''s surface. "They have to stay low. They will likely move by carriage, taking indirect routes to avoid detection." S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Marcus nodded slowly, considering her words.


    "They don''t have much fear of being caught as long as they don''t slip up," she continued. "After all, the royal family won''t let this information leak. It would damage their reputation too severely."


    Adelaide and Marcus listened intently.


    "Going from capital Lumina to the Xia Empire takes approximately one month," Meihua concluded. "How much do you think we can achieve in a month?"


    Privately, she knew these details from the original story timeline, when the princess had been kidnapped without Ambrose. The plot had diverged a bit but she didn''t believe this part would change much. She''d shared this information hoping to ease Marcus''s obvious anxiety¡ªto help him understand they weren''t racing against an immediate deadline.


    When Marcus heard her analysis, relief visibly washed over him. A month¡ªthat was workable. With that much time, they could prepare properly instead of rushing in half-cocked. The possibilities began to multiply in his mind, a plan taking shape.


    "Here''s what we''re going to do..." he began.


    ¡­


    In the throne room of the royal palace, King Alexander sat on his throne.


    The king''s face had grown ashen since receiving the devastating report¡ªboth his daughter, Princess Athena, and the Rothschild heir had been abducted during the attack on the capital. Beads of sweat gathered at his temples despite the room''s pleasant temperature.


    He noted that the great noble families had been growing increasingly bold in recent years, testing the boundaries of royal authority with subtle provocations. If word spread that the royal family couldn''t protect a visiting noble¡ªand not just any noble, but the heir to House Rothschild¡ªthose emboldened houses might see opportunity in the perceived weakness.


    Even more concerning was the deteriorating relationship with the Rothschilds themselves. Friedrich had been growing noticeably distant in recent diplomatic exchanges. The northern dukedom''s immense wealth and military strength made them arguably more powerful than the crown itself. If they learned their heir had been abducted under royal protection...


    The king''s knuckles whitened as his grip on the armrests tightened. The consequences would be catastrophic.


    Without warning, the shadow cast by the throne itself seemed to stir, rippling like disturbed water. A figure materialized from this impossible darkness¡ªa tall, slender form draped entirely in black, their features obscured by shadow despite standing in the well-lit chamber. The darkness seemed to cling to them.


    The figure glided silently to the king''s side, bending to whisper directly into his ear. Though no one else in the throne room could hear the words, the effect on the king was immediate. His already pale complexion blanched further, and a visible tremor ran through his frame.


    After delivering their message, the shadow-cloaked figure straightened. The king offered a curt, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. Without further ceremony, the mysterious messenger sank into the darkness beneath the throne, their form dissipating as though they had never existed.


    The king swallowed hard, then turned to address the servant standing dutifully at his left hand.


    "Make sure nothing about this gets out," he commanded, his voice strained but resolute.


    The servant bowed deeply, understanding the gravity of the situation without requiring further explanation. He turned to carry out his orders, already moving toward the throne room''s massive doors.


    "Wait!" the king called suddenly.


    The servant froze mid-step, pivoting back toward his monarch.


    "The Rothschild heir came with four companions, right?" the king asked, a new calculation forming behind his troubled eyes.


    The servant nodded in confirmation.


    "Detain them," the king ordered, his tone brooking no argument. Then, after a moment''s consideration, he added, "But don''t treat them badly."


    The servant bowed once more before departing.

 Chapter 137 137: C Rank Dungeon

    Marcus and the two girls pushed through the dense forest. Despite the urgency of their situation, Marcus found his mind sorting through their options.


    Their situation was difficult but not hopeless. Although the young master had been taken away, he hadn''t left them with nothing: he had helped them obtain their hero licenses before everything went sideways.


    "At least we can raid dungeons freely now," Marcus thought, mentally cataloging the locations he remembered from his future knowledge. His previous life had granted him an invaluable map of opportunities that others couldn''t see. "With the resources from these dungeons, we might become strong enough to rescue the young master." He didn''t believe that they could beat those people from the empire but they could at least get strong enough to be able to sneak in and rescue the young master before escaping.


    From what he knew about the royal family, they were likely already wanted by them, but that wasn''t as bad as it might seem to outsiders. As long as they avoided public spaces and maintained a low profile, they were unlikely to be caught.


    From what he knew the Heroes Association controls the dungeons, and they have no reason to share information on heroes with the royal family. And the royal family had no authority to request such information.


    In fact, the royal family isn''t as powerful as people thought, their inability to prevent the young master''s kidnapping had exposed this. Just two strongmen from the empire had been able to infiltrate and take someone from the royal capital under the eyes of the royal family.


    If such a thing could happen, then why hadn''t the kingdom fallen already? It was quite simple, the royal family wasn''t the true power in the kingdom¡ªmerely pawns. The real authority lay with the five king families who operated behind the scenes, pulling strings and orchestrating events from the shadows.


    Still, they needed to exercise caution. Royal patrol knights might not be the most competent, but they were numerous and could cause problems if they spotted the group.


    Marcus glanced sideways at his companions. He thought to himself that he didn''t really know much about his companions.


    In his previous life, Adelaide had never even made it to the academy and was killed by her older brother. And Meihua? She hadn''t existed at all in that timeline. Still, he knew that although he didn''t know much about them, he could tell that they weren''t useless.


    "I''ve trained with Adelaide," he thought, observing how she instinctively stepped over exposed roots without breaking stride. "Her talent isn''t combat-focused, but she''s improved her physical capabilities." She would likely be adequate support, though not a frontline fighter.


    Meihua was the greater mystery. He had never witnessed her abilities directly. During the entrance dungeon incident, he had been unconscious and never witnessed her abilities, and she hadn''t participated in the freshman ranking tournament, leaving her capabilities entirely theoretical to him. But her Mythical-ranked talent and her advancement to B-rank suggested considerable power. "There''s no way someone with a Mythical talent doesn''t have significant abilities," he reasoned.


    The dense forest suddenly opened into a sunlit clearing. Before them, partially concealed by climbing vines and moss, stood a stone archway embedded in the side of a small hill. Ancient runes carved into its surface glowed with a faint blue luminescence¡ªthe unmistakable sign of a dungeon entrance.


    "This is the dungeon we''ll be raiding first. It''s C-rank," Marcus explained, his firm.


    Despite having hero licenses, this was actually an undiscovered dungeon, his strategy was clear: target the undiscovered dungeons first. Those dungeons would likely still contain their original treasures, untouched by any previous adventurers. The officially registered dungeons under the Heroes Association''s jurisdiction would be secondary targets, likely picked clean except for the occasional overlooked item or hidden chamber that others had missed.


    ¡­ Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ambrose was deep in conversation with the goddess Aurora when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. The golden chains, the luminous figure, the vast white expanse¡ªeverything blurred and then vanished completely. Between one breath and the next, he found himself back in the familiar darkness of the dark expanse, standing exactly where he''d been before entering the white expanse.


    For a moment, he wondered if he had simply regained consciousness in the physical world, but the endless darkness stretching in all directions confirmed his location. The dark expanse surrounded him completely, and the portal to the white expanse had disappeared entirely, leaving no trace of its existence.


    "Does the white expanse have some sort of time limit?" he pondered, a frown creasing his brow. The possibility was frustrating¡ªhe''d barely scratched the surface of what he wanted to learn from the goddess. There were countless questions left unanswered.


    Ambrose let out a resigned sigh. He thought that it was quite a loss. The opportunity to explore that white expanse and extract more information from Aurora had slipped through his fingers.


    "Master!" A familiar voice broke through his disappointment.


    Turning, he saw Claire rushing toward him, her form gliding smoothly through the darkness. Concern was etched clearly across her features as she approached.


    "What happened?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You suddenly entered and then got out, and the portal disappeared."


    She was surprised by her words. Time hadn''t passed here while he was in the white expanse¡ªor at least, it hadn''t appeared to from Claire''s perspective. What had felt like an extended conversation with the goddess had been but a mere moment in the dark expanse.


    "It''s okay," he assured her, his voice calm despite his internal disappointment. "I checked out what I wanted."


    Settling into a cross-legged position, Ambrose contemplated his situation. The portal to the white expanse was gone, it would likely take some time to reappear or never even reappear at all. He couldn''t force himself back to consciousness in the physical world either. But perhaps this setback could be transformed into an opportunity.


    "This is a timeless space," he reasoned. "And my consciousness-related skills still function here."


    An idea formed in his mind. The evasive Time Dominion skill had resisted his mastery thus far, but here¡ªin this place outside normal time¡ªperhaps he could finally grasp its principles. He already possessed the theoretical framework; what he needed was practical application.


    Closing his eyes, Ambrose began channeling his Mental Strength into his Reality Simulation skill. The extraordinary ability allowed him to create perfect mental simulations, testing theories and approaches without real-world consequences. With enough successful simulations, the system would recognize his mastery and formalize the skill.


    In this dark, timeless void, with no distractions and no passage of time, he could theoretically run millions of simulations. A faint smile touched his lips as his mind accelerated, beginning the first of countless attempts to unravel the mysteries of the time aspect of his space-time talent.


    ¡­


    Marcus, Adelaide, and Meihua stood motionless before the shimmering dungeon portal, its glow casting eerie shadows across their faces. After a moment of silent contemplation, they exchanged determined glances and stepped through the portal together.


    The sensation of transportation faded, and they found themselves surrounded by towering trees with dense foliage blocking much of the sunlight. A forest dungeon materialized around them, complete with the earthy scent of soil and the distant sounds of creatures lurking beyond their vision.


    Marcus immediately positioned himself protectively in front of the two girls. His mind raced with calculations and concerns. A forest-type dungeon, he realized, this meant they would likely be surrounded by monsters within minutes. The thought troubled him deeply. His knowledge extended only to the potential rewards this dungeon offered¡ªnot its layout or the specific monsters that inhabited it. This information gap meant they needed to exercise extreme caution to avoid disaster.


    With tension evident in his shoulders, Marcus began leading their small party forward. Each step was deliberate and measured, his boots barely making a sound against the forest floor. He signaled for Adelaide and Meihua to match his careful movements.


    Despite their precautions, Marcus''s trained senses picked up subtle disturbances in the underbrush after just a few minutes of travel. Something was tracking them, moving parallel to their path, occasionally rustling branches and disturbing small wildlife.


    With a resigned sigh, Marcus unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion, the metal gleaming even in the dappled forest light. He turned to his companions with a grave expression.


    "Get ready, they''re about to attack," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper.


    As if summoned by his words, wolf-like monsters began emerging from behind the trees, their yellow eyes gleaming with predatory intent and saliva dripping from their bared fangs.


    ¡­


    The king slouched in his throne, fingers drumming impatiently against the ornate armrest. When a servant entered the chamber, his eyes narrowed instantly.


    "You still haven''t found them?" he demanded before the man could properly approach.


    "No, my lord," the servant replied, bowing his head.


    Rage flashed across the king''s face. He snatched his crown and hurled it at the servant, who barely dodged.


    "Go find them! Don''t come back without results!" he roared.


    As the servant hastily retreated, the king scratched his head furiously, several hairs coming loose between his fingers. He began gnawing at his thumbnail, his mind racing.


    Where could they possibly be?

 Chapter 138 138: The Hero Rothschild

    The human union empire, a thousand years ago...


    The Hero Rothschild sat on his chair. He had white hair and his body looked frail, a white blindfold covered his eyes, yet he was still able to read the battle report spread before him.


    A woman stood beside him, her features bearing a subtle resemblance to his own. Sophie''s gaze followed the same lines of text as his, her presence silent yet unwavering as they absorbed the details of countless battles raging simultaneously across distant territories.


    After scrutinizing every word, Rothschild placed the papers down on the wooden table before him. His hands trembled slightly as he sank into deep contemplation.


    He thought to himself that the ancient gods were really ruthless. When he had performed his first calculation years ago, he had realized that humanity could never win this war. That realization had spurred him to unite the entire human race, a monumental feat that many had deemed impossible.


    Yet the moment humans ceased fighting amongst themselves, new threats emerged. The demons launched their assaults, and worse still, they''d managed to entangle the beastmen in the conflict. He sighed as he remembered the promise he had made to the fox clan princess, it seemed he couldn''t keep the promise after all. He hoped she wouldn''t blame him too harshly; his hands were also tied.


    Rothschild leaned back in his chair, his gaze directed toward the ceiling. In that instant, something extraordinary happened¡ªhis mind expanded beyond mortal limitations, his cognitive abilities enhanced infinitely as he began calculating possibilities.


    In his brain, Simulation 1 unfolded: They successfully convinced the beastmen to ally against the demons. Victory came, but at a catastrophic cost¡ªmillions dead on both sides, civilizations reduced to ash, survivors left to rebuild from almost nothing.


    Simulation 2: They focused on defensive strategies, building impenetrable fortifications around human territories. The demons besieged them for decades, resources dwindled, and eventually, the walls fell from within¡ªsome people switching sides out of desperation.


    Simulation 3: They tried making peace with the demons, offering territorial concessions in exchange for peace. They succeeded initially but slowly, the demons began to reveal their true intentions.


    Simulation 4: Assassinations of key demon leaders, creating chaos in their command structure. The resulting power vacuum birthed something worse¡ªan entity of pure malevolence that unified the demons with religious fervor, a demon god was born.


    The simulations continued, thousands upon thousands of potential futures examined and discarded. Simulation 99999999999 revealed yet another path to failure.


    His consciousness returned to his body. Sophie''s slender fingers massaged his shoulders gently. Despite her attentiveness, her voice remained devoid of emotion when she spoke.


    "My lord, you''re back," she observed, the words flat and mechanical. "How did it go?"


    Rothschild could only sigh in response.


    "That bad?" she inquired, moving from behind him to fetch a glass of water. Her movements were graceful and efficient as she crossed the room, her footsteps nearly silent against the stone floor.


    As she slowly approached him with the drink, Rothschild broke the silence.


    "Sophie," he called, his voice soft.


    Though startled by the unusual tone in which he spoke her name, she continued her approach without breaking stride.


    "Let''s give up," Rothschild declared.


    The shock of his statement caused Sophie''s usually perfect composure to shatter. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor.


    She immediately dropped to her knees, gathering the sharp fragments with her bare hands. "That''s not funny, master," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion she rarely displayed.


    "Sophie, I''m tired," Rothschild admitted.


    In her surprise, Sophie''s usually careful movements faltered, and a shard of glass sliced into her finger. She barely noticed the injury, collecting every piece before disposing of them in the nearby bin. She returned to Rothschild, embracing him from behind.


    "Master, let''s run..." she suggested, her voice gradually transforming, shedding its emotionless quality as genuine feeling seeped into her words.


    "If we..." she began, but Rothschild silenced her by placing his hand atop her head.


    "It''s not that easy," he explained, his tone gentle yet resolute. "The ancient gods won''t rest as long as I''m alive. There is nowhere we can run to."


    "But the goddess of light and the spirit queen..." Sophie attempted to argue.


    "I don''t know what the Source saw in me, calling me the chosen hero," Rothschild interrupted. "I tried my best to live up to the title." He paused for a moment before he continued, "Although I''m doing this because I don''t want the people to suffer, the truth is, when I thought of this solution, I was glad at first..."


    Sophie''s eyes widened at this confession. "Master..."


    "Sophie," Rothschild continued, undeterred, "I''ve worked so much to be a hero. Do you think I was a hero?"


    "What do you mean? Master is and always will be a true hero in my eyes," she insisted with unexpected passion. "I''m sure the others think that way too."


    "Is that so?" His voice had grown alarmingly weak. "Then... will you let this hero rest?"


    With those words, his hand fell away from her head, his body suddenly limp. Sophie raised her head, horrified to find Rothschild''s form slumping forward toward her. She caught him against her chest, holding him close.


    Sophie embraced him as tears finally broke through her composed exterior as she sobbed quietly.


    After what seemed like an eternity, she gathered herself and lifted his body in her arms. The sorrow in her eyes hardened into something stern and resolute.


    [I won''t let it end this way]


    And then, carrying Rothschild''s body, Sophie vanished from the room.


    ¡­


    In the spirit region,


    Sophie walked up towards the royal palace of the spirit queen. In her arms, she carried Rothschild''s lifeless body, her face expressionless.


    As she ascended the path, spirits materialized to block her way. Without pausing, Sophie''s form emanated a pulsing forcefield that expanded outward in waves. The barrier collided with the approaching spirits, flinging them backward as though they were merely leaves caught in a violent gale. Their bodies slammed against marble walls and stone columns, leaving faint wisps of spiritual essence trailing behind them.


    Undeterred, Sophie continued her ascent up the grand staircase leading to the palace entrance. With each step she took, more spirits converged upon her. But none could penetrate the invisible shield that surrounded her. She repelled them effortlessly, not even acknowledging their existence.


    The commotion drew even more attention. Spirits gathered in increasing numbers, surrounding her on all sides, ready to strike.


    But before they could make another move, a commanding voice cut through.


    "Let her through."


    Although the voice was soft, it carried the unmistakable authority of the spirit queen. Instantly, the spirits bowed deeply toward the palace before dispersing, clearing the path ahead. Not a single one dared to question the command.


    Sophie continued walking until she stood in the royal throne room, face to face with the spirit queen herself. The queen observed her for a moment before she realized what was in her hands. In the blink of an eye, she appeared directly in front of Sophie, but Sophie showed no surprise or fear at this display of power.


    With gentle fingers, the queen caressed Rothschild''s cold face, "So this is what you chose in the end," she whispered. After a moment of contemplative silence, she turned her attention to Sophie. "What brings you here?"


    [I want to ask a favor] Sophie replied.


    [Is this the way to ask someone a favor?] the queen challenged, gesturing to the destruction Sophie had left in her wake.


    Sophie remained silent, her face unreadable as she held the queen''s gaze without flinching. The queen let out a sigh, returning to her throne in an instant.


    "Anyway, I know what you want, but I can''t help you," she declared from her elevated position. "This is what the hero chose."


    At these words, Sophie''s eyes began to glow with an eerie blue light.


    [What if I wasn''t asking anymore?] she spoke in a threatening tone.


    A smirk curved the queen''s lips. "Are you threatening me, little girl?" she asked, amusement evident in her tone.


    [What do you think?]


    The queen''s smirk widened into something more predatory. In a movement too swift to follow, she materialized directly behind Sophie, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You''re a thousand years too young, kid. Out of respect for the hero, I''ll pretend I didn''t hear that. Now scram before I change my mind."


    Instead of retreating, Sophie carefully placed Rothschild''s body on the ground before her. To the queen''s utter shock, the corpse did not collapse but remained standing on its own.


    "Y-you..." The queen stuttered, momentarily rendered speechless.


    [The master and I share an origin,] Sophie explained, her voice calm despite the incredible display of power. [Although he separated it because he didn''t want my life to be linked to his, it doesn''t change the fact that we were once one.] S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her next words emerged simultaneously from both her mouth and Rothschild''s, [I want you to consider your next choice of words carefully. Otherwise...]


    The queen stared at Sophie in horror, "Are you really going to do this?" she demanded. "You''re going to ruin everything the hero worked for."


    Sophie''s just smiled as she stroked Rothschild''s white hair.


    "He''s not a hero anymore," she stated with quiet finality. "He is Ambrose Rothschild."


    [VOLUME 3 END]