Marcus continued his advance toward Ambrose, moving as if in a trance. When his fingers were mere inches from their target, he suddenly stopped – 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 – 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 – 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?"
"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 – 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: (;一_一)
…
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 – 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 – 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: [ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ]
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 – 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 – 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 – 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."