It emitted a piercing cry of fear, frantically flapping its wings in an attempt to escape.
But its body was pletely rigid from terror, leaving it helplessly collapsed in the cage.
He remembered how Ailan and Dale reacted when he first acquired this ability.
The two usually gentle and cute assistants, upon sensing the heterogeneity in him, had also subtly bee wary.
That experience deeply made Ron realize that "Hunting" was more like the ultimate "attack declaration" rather than a covert means of detection.
It would expose the user’s most primal greed and possessive desire, pletely counterproductive in social and reconnaissance occasions requiring caution.
In contrast, skills like "Extraordinary Recognition" and "Eye of Observation" are not only more concealed, but also safer and more practical.
In the days that followed, this potentially great ability was kept in reserve.
On one hand, the enemies he encountered (like Sheena at the Dark Sun Level) were either too powerful, and using it rashly might lead to bigger trouble;
On the other hand, most opponents were ordinary people or low-level extraordinaries, giving him no desire to devour.
However, now, the divination results struck like lightning, splitting the mental obstacles in his mind.
"If I can devour inanimate objects, can I consume the free magic power in the air to quickly replenish myself?
Or devour a piece of obsidian containing special minerals to enhance my constitution?"
These possibilities excited him, yet he maintained the necessary caution.
Every powerful ability has its costs of use; he must first conduct small-scale experiments to confirm safety and efficiency.
.........
His gaze fell upon a simple goose feather pen on the desk.
This pen is the standard fixture in the room.
Made from ordinary goose feathers and a simple wooden handle, it lacks any extraordinary traits, making it an ideal target for experiments.
"Let’s test the specific mechanism of the Hunting ability using it."
Ron took a deep breath, took out the silver pocket watch, and placed it gently next to the goose feather pen.
Then he concentrated his mind and cautiously activated the dormant power within the pocket watch.
This time, he controlled the intensity of the pressure, trying to release the energy more gently.
The pocket watch indeed reacted, the three hands on the dial started moving at different rhythms.
The hour and minute hands slowly moved in a normal direction.
But the black "Hunting hand" started to rapidly move counterclockwise, as if reversing some invisible process.
An invisible force enveloped the goose feather pen, as if countless unseen tendrils were delicately "tasting" the target’s texture and value.
The goose feather pen began to undergo subtle changes, its surface gloss gradually dimming, as if some essence within it was being slowly extracted.
Then, something unexpected happened.
The pocket watch emitted a distinct feeling of "displeasure."
That feeling was like a gourmet facing disappointment with rough food.
Immediately afterward, Ron felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if something was forcibly pulled out from deep within his body.
This wasn’t a consumption of magic power or spiritual power; it was something more fundamental—the loss of the essence of life.
"What?!"
He immediately ceased the activation of the ability, but it was already too late.
A strand as fine as a thread yet extremely pure of origin power had been forcibly extracted by the pocket watch and used as "digestive fluid" for the goose feather pen.
Although the quantity was small, the weakness caused by this loss was all-enpassing.
Not only did his body feel fatigued, but even his thoughts became slow.
It was as if the "density of life" of his entire being had dropped a level.
Most critically, this weakness couldn’t be dispelled through conventional means.
He immediately tried using the "Time Reset" function of the time pocket watch, attempting to restore his physical state to several minutes ago.
The silver power of time surged across his body like a tidal wave, repairing some surface fatigue, but the void derived from the essence of life remained as inseparable as a shadow.
"The loss of origin power cannot be restored even by time reset..."
Just when he was nearly desperate, Ron suddenly recalled that he still possessed a special power—"Favor."
It was pure energy obtained by establishing a student-teacher relationship, with healing and purification traits.
He tentatively mobilized the favor of grace within his body, letting that immaterial higher-dimensional blessing flow through the damaged origin.
A miracle took place.
The favor of grace seemingly naturally equipped with the trait to repair the origin, gently but effectively filled that subtle gap.
Although it consumed a small portion of the favor reserve, the weakness finally began to dissipate.
"I see..."
After returning to his normal state, Ron gazed at the remains of the goose feather pen already turned into light spots on the desk, a strong sense of heartache surging within.
Although the pocket watch successfully devoured the target, the energy feedback was minimal.
pared to the consumed favor, it was entirely a losing trade.
"The initiations of the Hunting ability require the consumption of one’s own origin power as ’supplementation’ if the value is insufficient.
This means I must ensure the target has sufficiently high value, or else it is a foolish act of gainless loss."
This restriction made him calm down and also made this seemingly heaven-defying ability appear more balanced and reasonable.
After all, in the Wizard World, everything follows the rule of equivalent exchange; no power can be achieved without cost.
Understanding the mechanism of the Hunting ability, Ron no longer hesitated.
Sheena’s book clearly has sufficient value, and the divination results indicated this as the best path to safely acquire knowledge.
He placed the book disguised as "Illustrated Guide to Ancient Plant Pathology" at the center of the desk, then gently set the silver pocket watch upon it.
Taking a deep breath and adjusting his mindset, he activated the Hunting ability once more.
This time the reaction was much stronger than when devouring the goose feather pen.
All the pocket watch’s hands began to spin furiously in violation of physical laws.
The hour and minute hands spun clockwise at high speed, while the hunting hand raced counterclockwise.
The crystal glass face in the watch’s center began to undergo eerie changes, the previously hard and transparent surface rippled like waves, forming a deep miniature vortex.
The vortex’s edge shimmered with silver light, but its center was absolute darkness, seemingly absorbing even light itself.
The whole book was being drawn by an invisible force, undergoing incredible transformation.
The pages elongated and twisted like noodles, then were drawn one by one into the vortex.
The process was utterly silent, but in consciousness, the hallucination of paper being torn and chewed was clearly conveyed.
The book’s devouring process lasted nearly ten minutes.
During this time, Ron could feel the pocket watch’s real-time assessment of the "food’s" value.
Unlike the dissatisfaction when devouring the goose feather pen, this time the pocket watch showed clear "contentment."
"It worked..."
Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
After the final page was drawn into the vortex, the pocket watch’s insane spinning gradually subsided.
The dial regained transparency, but there appeared some fine new light spots that hadn’t been there before, the essence of "digested" knowledge.
The pocket watch didn’t forcibly plunder his origin power to make up for the loss as it did last time.
This indicated that Sheena’s book was deemed a "high-value prey," fully worthy of the energy cost expended.
With the vortex giving a phantom "burp," a vast and pure torrent of knowledge flooded into his mind like floodwaters breaching a dam.
But this was not a crude and simple information dump; it was the pure essence after the pocket watch’s "digestion" and "filtration."
The false guise of "Illustrated Guide to Ancient Plant Pathology" was pletely peeled off, and the true book title was branded deeply in his consciousness like a soldering iron:
"The Concept of the Boundary of Life and Death"
The author’s signature immediately emerged: "The Hand of Decay" Barnabas
This name was not unfamiliar to Ron.
In historical records, Barnabas was described as the last necromancy master after the prehensive fall of the "Tree of Life" school.
His research touched upon ultimate taboos of life forms, attempting to thoroughly deconstruct the essence of death.
Ultimately, due to overly radical ideas, he was expelled from the school and subsequently secretly executed in an "accident."
But it now appears that his theoretical legacy did not perish with his body but continued to be passed down in this subtle form.
The book’s foreword resonated in Ron’s mind like a bell, every word precious:
"People fear death, seeing it as an end.
But to the wise, death is not an end; it is a transformation of form, a continuation of existence.
Our actions are not desecration of the deceased, but rather building bridges and listening to the echoes across the shore.
Life and death are like day and night, apparently opposed but actually unified.
Those who grasp this truth may catch glimpses of the mysteries of the universe’s operation."
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