Once that thought crossed Cael’s mind, he imdiately found it very plausible.
What if he created a skill that transferred pain and damage to soone else, particularly to his clones?
That way, he could use Mana Sovereignty without suffering backlash.
He also recognized a major problem: mana consumption.
All of his combat skills, the ones he relied on most, consud enormous amounts of mana.
Adding another skill to the list would only make the issue worse.
’I need to reach [Gold].’
’It will be a major leap. And I can feel it. I am close to achieving [Silver 3].’
It had only been three weeks since he broke through to [Silver 2], yet he could already feel his bottleneck loosening.
The progress was faster than he had anticipated.
A wry smile appeared on Cael’s face. He reached over and pressed the call button beside his bed.
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the healing inscriptions along the walls. Outside, footsteps echoed in the hallway, distant and unhurried.
Soon, a nurse opened the door and walked in.
"Do you need sothing, sir?"
Cael nodded and asked,
"Can I consu mana beast at while recovering?"
The nurse raised an eyebrow at his question, but she still answered. It was her job, after all.
"Yes, sir, you can indeed eat. Although your injuries have been healed, the only reason you are feeling strain on your body is that because we were ordered not to heal your bones."
Cael’s expression changed dramatically.
"Eh? What do you an?"
The nurse answered softly,
"Actually, it was the Vice Principal’s idea. If we healed your bones, they would not strengthen themselves. Letting the body heal naturally is better in the long run."
Cael nodded slowly, processing the information. It was frustrating, but he understood the logic.
He stared at the ceiling for a mont, watching the faint glow of the inscriptions pulse like a slow heartbeat. The light was pale, almost blue, and it flickered with each pulse of mana running through the walls.
On the sidenote, Cael felt he deserved this rest.
The nurse continued,
"Anyway, mana beast at is consumable."
Cael thanked her and asked her to prepare mana beast at for his als.
The nurse nodded and was about to leave when Cael called out,
"Hey, wait."
She paused and asked,
"Is there sothing else you need?"
Cael smiled and said,
"Send the dical bills and any other charges to the Vice Principal’s account."
---
The next day,
The evening light filtered through the window, casting long golden streaks across the white floor of the dical room.
Cael still lay in his bed, slowly eating the mana beast at the kitchen had prepared.
The flavor was actually quite good, but he did not care about the taste.
He could feel the mana seeping into his body, warm and dense, settling into his muscles and bones.
And sure enough, his progression began to advance.
’If I wanted, I could break through to [Silver 3] right now.’
But Cael shook his head, calming his eagerness.
He had learned his lesson. Pushing too fast, too recklessly, only led to backlash and broken bones.
’I will wait until I recover, then I will break through.’
...
On the side of the dical dormitory, in a certain room.
The dark green-haired girl opened her eyes slowly.
Her amber eyes scanned the room, taking in the white ceiling, the faint glow of healing inscriptions along the walls, the sterile scent of antiseptic hanging in the air.
’Where am I?’
She tried to piece together her fragnted mories. The fight. The silver-haired boy. The white needles. The mont before her hand was cut off.
’Ah, that’s right. I was fighting that silver-haired boy.’
Her mories were dizzy, blurred at the edges, but recalling sothing, she looked down at her right side.
Her sleeve was hollow, pinned up where her arm should have been.
Her eyes instantly turned bloodshot. Her breathing grew ragged. She gritted her teeth and muttered,
"I... I will kill you."
Just then, a male voice asked in a curious tone,
"Oh, who might that be?"
She imdiately turned her eyes toward the source.
A silver-haired boy stood in the doorway, his crimson eyes watching her with calm interest.
For a mont, her vision blurred with rage. She wanted to charge at him, to tear him apart with her bare hands.
Then she stopped.
’It’s not the boy I fought.’
The silver hair was similar. The build was similar. But the eyes were different.
This one’s eyes were crimson, not violet. And his presence was heavier, more controlled.
Cael and Luke shared common traits, and for a mont, she had been confused.
If she had been at her best, she certainly would not have made such a mistake.
But she was not at her best. Not to ntion her current state of mind was also unstable.
With slow and steady steps, Luke walked forward and repeated,
"Didn’t I ask who you want to kill?"
The girl remained silent.
’Where am I?’
That was the thought running through her mind.
’Am I captured? Is this one of those forest poachers’ hideouts?’
Although many thoughts raced through her mind, she did not neglect Luke.
She had a feeling that if she answered anything stupid, she would die.
It was her instinct, and her instincts had never betrayed her.
Not to ntion, she was not in a state to fight.
Her dominant arm was missing, and for so reason, her body felt pain with every movent. Her muscles scread. Her joints ached. Even breathing hurt.
’Did they do sothing to ?’
Seeing that the girl was not answering his question, Luke was not disappointed.
He asked another question.
"Tell ... what’s your na?"
As soon as she heard those words, in her eyes, Luke’s figure overlapped with Cael’s.
The silver hair. The confident stance. The calm eyes. For a mont, she saw the boy who had cut off her hand.
She gritted her teeth in anger and said, "Are you wort—"
But before she could finish her sentence, her words died in her throat as if death itself pressed down on her.
It was not a physical sensation. It was not mana. It was not killing intent.
It was sothing deeper, sothing older, sothing that did not belong to the world of the living.
The air in the room grew heavy, thick as water, cold as a grave. The light from the healing inscriptions dimd, as if even they were afraid to shine.
Her left arm and legs began to shiver uncontrollably. Her straight posture bent down in submission. Sweat ford on her face, cold and sticky.
Her heart pounded against her ribs, not from exertion, but from pure, primal terror.
She had faced death before. When she was young and nearly died. But this was different. This was not the fear of being hurt.
This was the fear of death and regret.
’I-Is this how I die?’
’No... I won’t want to die.’
The presence pressed down on her chest, tightening around her throat, crushing her will.
She could not breathe. She could not think. She could only feel the certainty that if she did not answer, if she said the wrong thing, she would cease to exist.
In that terrifying unknown presence, she muttered,
"Se... Seris V-Vale."
As soon as she said those words, the feeling of death disappeared as if it had never existed.
Luke chuckled and said,
"See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?"
Seris simply nodded. She could not do anything else.
With that, Luke turned back and walked toward the door.
His steps paused as he glanced at Seris over his shoulder.
"I don’t know who you are targeting, but if you even dare lay a hand on my people, I will make you suffer even after your death."
With those words, he left. The door slid shut behind him.
Seris took deep breaths, trying to control her racing heart.
’Who was he? That energy... it was dangerous.’
She closed her eyes and lay back on the bed. She waited, but no one ca into her room.
Ti passed. The light outside the window faded. The room grew dark.
...
It was midnight.
Seris opened her eyes. Sothing felt off; she was feeling uneasy. Her skin prickled. Her instincts scread.
’Did he co back?’
That was her first thought. But little did she know, the person who ca this ti was far more dangerous.
Seris’s eyes surveyed the room. Then her gaze fell on the window as her pupils dilated.
The once-closed window was wide open. A cold breeze drifted through, carrying the scent of rain and distant grass.
The curtains swayed gently, casting shifting shadows across the walls. The room felt smaller than before.
A girl sat on the window fra, one leg dangling over the edge, her face and skin hidden in shadows.
Only two things were visible. Her fluttering white hair, pale as moonlight, and her crimson eyes.
Those eyes glowed red as fresh blood, deep as an open wound.
There was no warmth in them. No curiosity. No malice. Only the quiet, absolute certainty of sothing that had already decided.
She tilted her head slightly, her white hair swaying with the motion.
The Sovereign of Red Heart looked at Seris, her crimson eyes reflecting the faint light of the room, as she giggled.
"Hehe."
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