Chapter 65
As William watched the progress bar slowly tick upward, his heart raced. Each percentage increase felt like a step closer to unleashing the power he'd only imagined until now. The eerie silence of the chasm was broken by the gentle hum of energy radiating from the book in his hand, its glow illuminating his face with a pale light.
[Host is learning ability: 17%… 18%...]
The thrill surged through him as he waited, picturing all the ways he could use his new ability. Just think, he mused, a gust to blow an enemy off their feet, a razor-sharp wind strike aimed with perfect precision...
He clenched his fists, feeling an almost imperceptible shift in the air around him. The foggy chasm seemed to thicken, the wind swirling faintly in response to his thoughts. The sensation was exhilarating—a raw, wild force just within reach.
The system chimed again, snapping him out of his thoughts.
[Host is learning ability: 29%…]
Host is learning ability: 55%…]
The percentage finally hit 100%, and a wave of energy rippled through William's body. He gasped as the wind itself seemed to respond to him, swirling around him in faint, invisible currents.
The system's voice chimed in his mind. [Wind Ability learned successfully.]
A strange sense of completion washed over him. It felt as if he had finally found something that had been missing from him all along. The wind in the cave was no longer a mere sensation; it was a part of him, responding to his will, wrapping around him like a loyal companion. The light from the book faded, and he called out for his status. The familiar screen appeared.
[Status]
[William]
Age: 16
Male
Level 8
Experience Value: 850/1300
Strength: 11
Agility: 10
Endurance: 10
Skills: [The 3rd Eye Level 1] [Darkseer Level 1] [Immunox]
Attribute: [Shadow Being] [Child of Thunder]
Soul Essence: 9
Ability: Wind
Store Coins: 250
He noted with satisfaction that he had increased his soul essence by two in a single day, and his ability slot had finally changed from "None" to "Wind." Eager to test his newfound power, he knelt and placed a small stone on the ground in front of him. Closing his eyes, he focused on the image of the wind lifting the stone into the air.
At first, nothing happened. The stone remained still, unbothered. Undeterred, he visualized harder, sending a clear command to the wind within him. On the sixth attempt, the air finally stirred, pushing a faint trace of dust off the stone. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
After the tenth trial, William was gasping for breath, his face slick with sweat. His entire body ached as if he'd run a marathon, and a sharp voice chimed in his mind.
[Warning: Soul Essence depleted. Recommend rest to prevent further depletion.]
"No," William muttered, his voice hoarse. "I need to get stronger… faster."
With one last push, he visualized again, but as he stretched his hands forward, his body betrayed him. He staggered, then collapsed against the cool stone wall of the cave, utterly drained. For a moment, he just lay there, breathing heavily.
Reaching into his system inventory, he summoned a water bottle. It materialized in his hand, cold and comforting, and he drank greedily, the water soothing his parched throat. After a few deep gulps, he stored the bottle back in his inventory, watching it vanish from his hand. Feeling somewhat refreshed, he stood up.
"Time for the lightning ability," he muttered to himself.
An understanding had dawned on him during his wind training—visualization was key. He closed his eyes and pictured a small spark of lightning forming in his palm. After a moment, he felt a faint prickling sensation in his fingers, followed by the crackle of electricity. A thin strand of lightning flickered to life in his hand, casting an eerie glow.
"Yes!" he whispered in triumph. But when he tried to throw the lightning at the cave wall, it died out halfway.
William chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Well, at least I didn't electrocute myself this time," he said, placing his hand on the wall with a sigh. "I'll never get used to this."
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Almost time for curfew, William walked through the dark forest, his steps echoing in the silence. The moon hung high above him, casting its silver light through the trees, creating patches of shadow that danced across the ground. The air was cool and carried the faint rustle of leaves, a low whisper carried by the wind. He could hear the occasional chirp of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl.
Every sound seemed amplified in the stillness.
Behind him, perched on the branch of a tall tree, were two figures. One was dressed in a dark ninja outfit, his hair an unnatural shade of green, blending in and yet contrasting with the darkness around them. Beside him stood a man with a traditional Chinese fan, his gaze fixed on William as he moved through the forest.
The man with the fan gave a thoughtful nod in William's direction. "Wind ability," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "That's promising. Why don't you take him as your student? After all, you're a wind user too."
The ninja scoffed, shaking his head. "I'd like to, but it's pointless. We both know he won't hold onto that power for long."
The man with the fan sighed, glancing back at William with a wistful expression. "How I wish things didn't have to be this way."
The ninja's eyes hardened. "This was bound to happen the moment Lee died."
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Far away, in the hidden base of the Heretics, a meeting was taking place. The structure of power in this place was clear, each tier representing a different level of control. The third tier consisted of the Anbu, specialized assassins trained in shadow and silence. Above them, in the second tier, were the Pillars, the king's most trusted aides. And at the very top was the first tier—the King himself.
Tonight, all of them were gathered, seated around a grand table. Around fifty Anbu agents sat at the lower end, their faces obscured, and fourteen Pillars took up positions near the head, and the king sat before them. But in the place of honor, sitting on the largest chair, was no human king.
It was a cat.
Each member seemed to regard the feline figure with a mix of reverence and deep fear. The meeting was concluding, a weighty silence settling over the room. The king of the Heretics, a broad man, stood and bowed slightly toward the cat.
"There is a matter of interest, my lord," he began, his voice low but unwavering. "At one of the military academies, a boy managed to kill a Tier One beast—without an ability."
A flicker of alarm crossed the cat's face, its fur standing on end for the briefest of moments before it regained its impassive expression. Its eyes narrowed, cold and calculating.
"Have you eliminated him?" the cat asked, its voice surprisingly deep.
The king hesitated. "We tried, but… it failed. We sent an Anbu, but the Anbu was killed."
The cat's eyes narrowed further, glinting dangerously. The king pressed on, quickly adding, "But worry not. We can send another Anbu, or even a Pillar—"
The cat's tail twitched. "No. If you've already lost an Anbu, that means those two old men are involved. Sending another won't change a damn thing even if it was you."
The king fell silent, bowing his head in reluctant understanding. The cat closed its eyes, sighing with faint frustration.
"Leave the boy be for now," the cat murmured, more to itself than to anyone else. "There will be plenty of time to deal with him later." And then, under its breath, it muttered, "Damn those old men…"
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On a mountain peak miles away, two elderly men sat outside a temple, gazing up at the stars. One wore a black kimono, his long beard flowing like a waterfall, while the other was dressed in a monk's robe, serene and thoughtful. Suddenly, both men sneezed simultaneously.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
The one in the kimono chuckled, scratching his beard. "Looks like someone's talking about us."
The monk smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I just hope it's good things."
Happy new month to you all, It's my birth month.