Holding the small glass vial that Cléo had brought, I felt a sudden nervousness sweep through my body.
"She wants to blind me..." I thought, clenching my teeth as I looked at the liquid inside the container. It was unsettling. First, she sends assassins to finish me off, and now this? I couldn't help but sigh as I tried to organize my emotions.
"She's still so young..." I murmured to myself. "And yet, she's already resorting to such horrible means to achieve what she desires."
"I'll keep this for now. You never know when something like this might come in handy in the future."
After Cléo left, no one else came knocking on my door or bothering me. A rare moment of peace, although I knew it was only temporary. I sprawled on the bed carelessly, but my relaxed posture didn't reflect the whirlwind of thoughts stirring in my mind.
My gaze wandered to the ceiling as my mind explored possibilities and dangers. The figures in white... I had passed them a few times, and none showed any signs of recognizing the virtual laboratory I carry within me.
"If that's true, then entering a Mage academy might be easier than I thought..."
However, the words of Baron Elion, the father of this body's former owner, echoed in my mind. Mages are reserved, cruel, and their academies are true battlefields in disguise. Even without deliberate deaths, the fierce competition and scheming could be as deadly as any blade.
"I need protection... something that will allow me to survive in that environment, even if I have to fight alone."
Instinctively, I reached into my pants pocket. My fingers found the cold ring and pulled it out. Holding it up to my eyes, I examined it carefully.
Simple at first glance, but as I turned it in the light, I noticed the intricate patterns inscribed on its inner surface. Enigmatic symbols and an inscription that seemed alien, something that defies the logic of common knowledge.
"This is... unbelievable."
I ran my fingers over the markings. How did someone manage to engrave something so detailed on such a small object? The precision was astonishing, especially considering the limited resources of the Middle Ages.
"But of course... If it involves Mages, nothing should be dismissed as impossible."
Holding the black ring in my hands, I observed the intricate inscriptions once more. The soft light of the airship's lamp illuminated the engraved details, yet their meaning remained as mysterious as the first time I saw them.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and murmured to myself:
"Virtual laboratory, analyze the ring in my hands!"
Immediately, I heard the familiar mechanical response.
["Beep! Task established!"]
["Initiating scan!"]
A bluish light began to emanate from my eyes, projecting outward like bright beams. It resembled the movement of a printer, sweeping over the ring repeatedly as a digital progress bar appeared in my peripheral vision.
["Analyzing... 1%"]
["Analyzing... 2%"]
["Analyzing... 3%"]
However, something interrupted the process.
["Error..."]
["Unknown metallic components."]
["Comparing with databases... Insufficient data."]
["Analysis not possible!"]
I felt my lips curl into a frustrated grimace. I squeezed the ring between my fingers as I tried to control the irritation growing in my chest.
"As I thought! The laboratory's current level is still insufficient to analyze something left behind by a Mage!"
I sighed deeply, letting the air escape my lungs slowly and deliberately, as I placed the ring back into my pocket.
For a moment, I just sat there, feeling the weight of the weakness of this body I now inhabit. My physique was mediocre, unable to compare with other young men of the same age. That thought gnawed at me deeply.
"How can I increase my power?" I murmured, almost as a lament. "This body is truly too weak! If I keep going like this, I have no doubt I'll be dead in a few years."
My mind drifted to my past life, when manipulating genetic code was a tangible possibility. With the knowledge and resources I had back then, transforming this body into something strong and resilient would have been a simple task.
"Unfortunately..." I murmured, clenching my fists, "...there's no such option here."
Lying back on the bed, I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to enter a state of total concentration. I took a deep breath and murmured in thought: "Laboratory, examine the entirety of the previous Tyler's memory and organize it!"
The familiar sound resonated in my mind:
["Beep!"]
["Task established!"]
["Initiating arrangement!"]
Suddenly, a vast sea of images, sounds, and sensations began to emerge before my closed eyes, as if I were watching a holographic projection. At first, it was chaotic – fragments of disjointed memories floating in all directions. It was like trying to find a specific grain of sand in a sandstorm.
["Initiating complete memory scan."]
["Segmenting by life stages: childhood, adolescence."]
Immediately, the chaos began to shift into visual order. The sea of memories was divided into clear and distinct sections. Each memory floated in a virtual space, organized like folders on a computer, labeled by years and significant events.
["Subdividing categories: significant events, acquired skills, social interactions, relevant knowledge."]
It was like watching a state-of-the-art computer process data at incredible speeds. Within each folder, the memories were being meticulously categorized.
With the chaos in my mind now transformed into an organized library, I decided to take the next step. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to maintain my focus and issued a new command:
"Create a new file called Primal Tyler, and save it!"
The mechanical sound responded immediately:
["Beep!"]
["File created – Primal Tyler!"]
A faint smile appeared at the corner of my lips. Now I had a dedicated base to explore the most relevant memories related to personal strengthening.
"New task," I continued. "Search the Primal Tyler file for all possible methods to enhance my strength quickly!"
["Beep!"]
["Task established."]
["Beginning search!"]
Before my closed eyes, a torrent of data began to flash by, each memory represented as a visual fragment streaming across my vision. It resembled a kaleidoscope of information, flowing and forming organized, almost artistic patterns.
After a brief moment, the virtual laboratory responded:
["Search complete! Search results – 50 methods found!"]
I remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing the number of possibilities. However, I knew I needed to be selective.
"Remove those with an estimated success rate below 80%." I paused, adjusting the criteria. "Additionally, add another requirement: I must be able to carry out the strengthening method immediately. Begin filtering!"
["Beep!"]
["Applying filters..."]
["Filter complete. Remaining methods: 1!"]
I raised an eyebrow, surprised yet curious at the same time. "Show it to me!"
A single window appeared in my mind, highlighting the solution:
[Method 1: Become a Warrior.]
I read the words and, for a moment, remained silent. My first instinct was to question it. "A Warrior?" I murmured to myself. I had thought the laboratory would suggest something related to magic or hidden technology, but the simplicity of the response intrigued me.
I adjusted my posture on the bed, crossing my arms as I pondered the next step. My mind buzzed with possibilities. I whispered to myself:
"Laboratory, compile all memories related to Warrior training. Organize them properly and send them to my conscious mind!"
The familiar sound echoed in response:
["Beep! Task established. Initiating compilation!"]
I felt a faint tingling sensation in my head as the virtual laboratory began scanning the vast archive of the previous Tyler's memories. Within seconds, flashes of images and information began to surface, as though an endless stream of knowledge was being directly injected into my brain.
Suddenly, comprehension began to emerge. Finally, I understood what it meant to be a Warrior.
In this world, while Mages were rare beings endowed with special talents, Warriors formed the backbone of human societies. They were those who, through relentless and arduous training, stimulated their inner vital energy—a hidden force within their very bodies.
"Vital energy," I murmured, thoughtful. "So that's what sets them apart."
Unlike Mages, who needed an innate gift, anyone willing to pay the price—sweat, blood, and discipline—could become a Warrior. This made them accessible to commoners and lower nobility. They were the protectors, the soldiers, and sometimes even the rulers.
Their physical attributes far exceeded those of an ordinary human. Strength, speed, endurance—everything elevated to extraordinary levels. Additionally, Warriors mastered weapons with expertise, from swords to spears, and even unarmed combat techniques.
There was more. Some memories revealed Warriors capable of using secret abilities—powerful techniques that could be activated at critical moments. These allowed a Warrior's strength to be tripled instantly, although always at a cost.
Among the organized memories, one particular scene emerged as a centerpiece:
It was the training yard on the Rustel estate. A massive garrison, equipped with weapons, training dummies, and a combat arena. At the center of the yard stood Baron Elion Rustel—the father of the former Tyler—wearing full armor. His figure was imposing, radiating authority and strength.
I could see the young Tyler, a frail child, standing before him, both scared and in awe at the same time.
"Today," said Baron Elion in a deep, unyielding voice, "I will teach you the secret skill passed down through generations in our family: the supreme axe technique and the breathing techniques that accompany it. Remember one thing: never teach this to anyone outside our family!"
The stern look on his face was unforgettable, even for the previous Tyler. The weight of that moment seemed suffocating.
However, as the laboratory's memories revealed, the former Tyler was just a child at that time. He didn't understand the significance of what was being taught, and over time, the techniques were forgotten, buried deep in his mind.
Opening my eyes, I let out a long, deep sigh.
"So, even my own blood carried the potential of a Warrior..." I murmured. "And the other me simply ignored it. What a waste."
...
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