The academy halls were quiet as Raynor walked through them, his thoughts still lingering on his fight with Derrin. He noticed. That was a problem. The more attention he drew, the harder it would be to keep his survival system a secret.
He exhaled, his fingers twitching slightly—a side effect of his new Survival Instinct skill. His body felt different, more attuned to movement and danger. It was like having a second set of senses that never shut off.
I need to control it.
If he couldn't, someone else would figure out what made him different—and that could be deadly.
By the time Raynor reached the library, the lanterns had been dimmed, casting long shadows over the wooden tables. Only a handful of students remained, their faces buried in thick tomes.
Raynor wasn't here for books. He needed information.
Moving to the restricted archives, he scanned the shelves, looking for anything related to combat instincts, danger perception, or forbidden techniques.
His fingers brushed against an old leather-bound volume:
"The Ties Between Mind and Motion"
He flipped through the pages, scanning for anything useful.
"Certain techniques allow warriors to predict movement not by sight, but by instinct. This phenomenon, often referred to as 'Combat Foresight,' has been observed in battle-hardened fighters and those with unique sensory abilities..."
Raynor's eyes narrowed. That sounded very close to what his system had just given him.
"However, there exists a danger in relying solely on instincts rather than thought. Overuse of heightened perception can cause a disconnect between conscious decision-making and unconscious reaction, leading to reckless or erratic behavior in prolonged combat."
Raynor clenched his jaw. A drawback.
He closed the book and leaned back, exhaling slowly. If he pushed his Survival Instinct too far, he might start reacting without control. In battle, that could be just as dangerous as being slow.
A soft rustle broke his thoughts.
"Didn't expect to see you here."
Raynor turned, already tensing before recognizing the voice. Elana.
She stood in the dim light, arms crossed, an inquisitive look on her face.
"You've been showing up in a lot of unexpected places lately," she noted.
Raynor kept his expression neutral. "Call it curiosity."
Elana's gaze drifted to the book in his hands. "Combat foresight, huh? Planning to become a dueling champion?"
Raynor smirked faintly. "Something like that."
She didn't look convinced. "You've been different lately."
Raynor's fingers twitched slightly. Not good.
Elana sighed, shaking her head. "Look, I don't know what you're up to, but I hope you know what you're doing."
Raynor met her gaze. "I always do."
She studied him for a moment longer before turning away. "If you ever need an actual sparring partner instead of books, you know where to find me."
Raynor watched her go, his grip tightening on the book.
He was being noticed. Again.
If things kept up like this, it wouldn't be long before someone started asking the wrong questions.