Seraphina looked taken aback by Elian's question. She met his serious gaze—far too calm for someone his age—then drew a long breath before answering in a heavy voice.
"A few years ago, after our king ascended the throne, he ordered the abolition of all slavery within the kingdom," she said slowly. "It wasn't purely a moral decision. The real goal was to build ties with the Geran Trade Company and the Republic of Horland."
She paused, as if arranging her memories.
"In a short time, the kingdom successfully established diplomatic and trade relations with both. The state stabilized, the economy grew rapidly. And because of that, the king decided to invade the Ukkarian Empire."
Her tone grew heavier.
"At first, everything went well… until Duke Laubar, who had been tasked with guarding the border with a large military force, betrayed us and turned his blade against the kingdom."
Seraphina's gaze dimmed.
"As a result, the kingdom lost many of its finest talents. Our military strength was drastically weakened."
She clenched her fingers on the table.
"Fortunately, at that time, the Geran Trade Company and the Republic of Horland imposed an embargo, forcing the Ukkarian Empire to reduce the intensity of its attacks. Not long after, the Sincan Empire intervened by attacking Ukkarian ports and Duke Laubar's territory, completely cutting off their supply lines from the outside world."
Seraphina let out a quiet breath.
"Since then, a peace treaty was signed. Duke Laubar's territory was officially severed from the Kingdom of Celestra."
Her voice grew hoarse, tinged with anxiety.
"But now, rumors are spreading that the Theocracy is backing Duke Laubar. With the number of troops they've deployed along the border, their ambitions are becoming clearer by the day."
She looked straight at Elian.
"That's why the kingdom has decided to develop talent as quickly as possible, to prevent the coming invasion."
Seraphina fell silent for a moment, then lowered her head.
"To be honest… I hope war doesn't happen. Our kingdom hasn't fully recovered from the previous one."
Elian listened carefully. His own plans did involve a long war—a conflict that would one day swallow his generation. Still, he hadn't expected things to accelerate this quickly, to the point where people his age would soon be thrown onto the battlefield.
"I understand," Elian said at last. "I'll do my best in the upcoming exam."
"That won't be enough," Seraphina cut in immediately. "This time, you won't just be competing against your own batch, but also second-year students."
Her tone hardened.
"You need to be careful not to get eliminated early just because of bad luck."
She stood up, took a book with strange patterns on its cover, and handed it to Elian.
"I've also prepared something for you."
Elian accepted the book and felt a faint vibration coming from within.
"I found it by accident," Seraphina continued. "It's a technique to strengthen the body. Since I've already reached Sequence 5, I don't really need it."
Her eyes swept over Elian's frame.
"Seeing how… weak your physical condition is, I figured it'd be better to give it to you than let it gather dust on a shelf."
Elian looked at her and said flatly,
"Really? I thought you were well aware of how weak my body is… and desperately searched for every possible way to strengthen it."
Seraphina froze.
Her pupils widened, and she hurriedly looked away. A faint flush crept onto her face—the reaction of someone caught red-handed.
"That—that's not what you think," she muttered stiffly.
Elian let out a light laugh.
So that long explanation earlier really wasn't without reason.
He tightened his grip on the book and bowed slightly.
"Thank you, Ms. Seraphina. I won't disappoint you."
Without waiting for a reply, Elian turned and left the room—leaving Seraphina standing there, staring at the door with mixed emotions swirling in her chest.
Elian headed toward the cafeteria at a relaxed pace. The academy corridors were still crowded with students enjoying their break, but the atmosphere was anything but harmonious.
Some passed by with their heads lowered, steps quick and cautious—clearly commoners. On the other side, groups of nobles walked along with quiet laughter and condescending looks, shoulders deliberately bumping, feet deliberately blocking paths. There were no open insults, no overt violence—just oppression subtle enough to be ignored, yet clear enough to be felt.
Watching all this, a thin smile rose to Elian's lips.
A situation like this would require extraordinary effort if someone wanted to unite nobles and commoners under a single banner.
And as long as this divide was allowed to fester, Reinhardt would never truly develop in the future.
After spending his break without any real incident, Elian returned to class and went through the rest of the day as usual. By evening, he made his way back to the dormitory.
But the moment he opened his door, his brows furrowed.
The red carpet on the floor—something he always kept clean—was now stained with a glaring black mark. His eyes shifted to the desk, where a rolled scroll lay, clearly placed there on purpose.
He opened it.
The writing inside was sharp, filled with panic and warning:
Are you an idiot? Stop what you're doing right now. If Reinhardt doesn't immediately unite the nobles and commoners under his command—
Before he could finish reading, Elian crumpled the scroll and tossed it into the trash.
"Bastard," he muttered with an annoyed sigh.
"Dirtying my carpet just to spout nonsense."
He had no intention of dwelling on it. With a light motion, Elian pulled out a folding fan from his storage ring. For some reason, it released a soft, alluring scent, like night-blooming flowers.
When he infused it with magic, a voice echoed out—
Shiori's voice, resonating directly in his mind, seductive and almost whispering.
Elian listened closely, filtering every word, every hint. Slowly, a complete understanding of the technique took shape in his thoughts.
The technique allowed the user to control their body even when their primary consciousness was cut off, as if the physical body were still fully active. Not mere reflex—
but absolute commands engraved directly into the core will and bodily instincts.
At its foundation, consciousness was divided into three layers:
Primary Consciousness — the waking mind, which can faint or fall asleep.
Core Will — the deepest drives: survival, vows, obsessions.
Bodily Instinct — muscle memory, combat responses, biological reflexes.
With this technique, one could plant commands into their soul—running, hiding, fighting—甚至 combining them into complex structures that would execute automatically when consciousness was lost.
This was achieved by injecting magic into the soul at a precise intensity, enough to awaken dormant instincts. At higher levels, the technique even allowed the user to write sentences directly understood by the soul, creating something akin to a mental algorithm that would run on its own.
In essence, the user left traces of power within the soul to stimulate the Core Will whenever the Primary Consciousness was severed.
But Elian realized something.
In reality… he was never truly unconscious. Even while sleeping, his awareness remained active—it simply shifted form.
All he needed to do was move his body like playing a game while asleep. The only problem was that he couldn't see the outside world. For now, that meant he could only implant static commands.
"Good enough," Elian muttered with a faint smile.
"Next time, I'll find a way to observe the outside world while I'm in the dream realm."
He then opened the book Seraphina had given him.
In an instant, knowledge flooded into his mind.
The book described a simple technique: by creating runes and attaching them to the body, physical strength could be greatly increased. However, once the runes were removed, the body would suffer side effects—cramps, extreme exhaustion, even temporary paralysis.
The system was far simpler than the previous technique.
The side effects were proportional to usage duration and the gap in strength.
If the body could normally lift 30 kg and was forced to lift 50 kg for a moment, the result might just be mild cramps. Hold that for an hour, and the body could cramp for an entire day.
But force it to lift a ton, even for a single second—and the body could be completely paralyzed.
Worse still, the greater the boost, the higher the mana consumption per second, making the technique highly inefficient for prolonged combat.
Yet Elian saw something terrifyingly promising in it.
Without hesitation, he began to act.
He didn't just create runes and attach them—
Elian engraved them directly into his body, using magic.
The air around him trembled faintly as mana flowed from his core. Dim light surfaced on his skin, forming thin bluish lines, as if invisible hands were etching patterns directly into his existence.
When the first magic circuit "touched" his body, there was no blood.
But a piercing cold spread from his skin to his bones, followed by sudden pressure crashing in from within.
Not a wound—
but the sensation that his body's structure was being rewritten.
The runic lines slowly lit up, passing through flesh without tearing it, sinking into muscle, bone, and mana channels. Every curve of the circuit felt like hot iron pressed against his nerves, even though his skin remained intact.
Elian clenched his jaw. His breath hitched.
Not from physical pain, but from the instinctive rejection of his body—
a silent scream from every cell, resisting something beyond its natural limits.
As magic fully flowed into the forming circuits, the pain changed.
The pressure now came from deeper inside.
His muscles trembled uncontrollably, his bones pulsed as if being stretched from both ends. The mana that usually felt gentle turned into a heavy current forcing its way through, slamming into every path it took.
His body resisted.
His soul adapted.
Every second felt like forced synchronization—
not destruction, but compelling the body to learn how to survive in a stronger form.
Yet in the midst of it all, Elian smiled faintly.
If a massive, short-lived boost led to destruction…
then what if he increased his strength gradually, throughout the entire day?
Wouldn't that be equivalent to relentless extreme training, where the body is forced to adapt instead of being surpassed?
The side effects only manifested when the flow of magic was cut off and the body returned to its original state. So as long as he kept the enhancement within reasonable limits—and allowed his body to slowly catch up to the granted strength—that rejection would naturally diminish.
The final rune was completed.
Its glow faded, fully merging into Elian's body without leaving a mark on his skin. Yet beneath the surface, the magic circuit remained, pulsing faintly in time with his breath and heartbeat.
Elian let out a long breath.
The pain hadn't completely vanished. His body still trembled weakly, as if he had just crossed a threshold he was never meant to touch.
But beneath that, he felt something different—
a foundation of strength being forged, slowly, steadily, and permanently.
And this…
was only the beginning.
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