Chapter 458: Pressure
Lysander’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed fractionally.
He looked toward the observation window.
"Increase the level to 20."
Icarus’s voice came through strained.
"Marshal, Level 20 is the highest mental pressure below S rank threshold. It will cause–"
"Do it."
The command cut through Icarus’s protest like a blade.
BOOM!
The pressure multiplied, crushing down with force that should have liquified Damian’s consciousness.
His body bent forward, spine curving as every muscle locked and trembled.
Blood vessels burst across his exposed skin from the strain of keeping himself upright, crimson spreading in blooming patterns.
But his smile kept widening.
His teeth showed red from bleeding gums.
And slowly, impossibly, he began to rise.
Something shifted in Damian’s vision, notifications flickering at the edge of his awareness.
Changes were happening in his status screen, numbers climbing as his Will stat responded to the crushing pressure.
He paid no attention to it, his focus consumed entirely by the sensation of weight pressing down on his mind.
[WILL: 463 → 465]
His legs trembled violently as they pushed against the mental weight pressing down on his consciousness, muscles tearing from the effort.
His crimson eyes found Lysander’s face, locking onto the Marshal with absolute focus.
"YOU THINK THIS IS GONNA STOP ME?!"
His voice came out as a roar despite the blood filling his mouth.
"YOU THINK THIS PATHETIC MENTAL PRESSURE IS ENOUGH TO BREAK ME?! HAH!"
He forced himself higher, knees lifting off the ground by inches.
"I grind myself against more mental pressure every single day in my Domain! This is nothing but warmth compared to what I endure willingly!"
His gaze shifted to the observation window, finding Icarus through the glass.
"MORE! GIVE ME MORE!"
Zara’s voice cut through strained.
"Candidate Damian, any more than this will risk permanent soul damage! You shouldn’t gamble with your life like this! You don’t even have mental defense skills to reduce the press–"
"JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME ENJOY THE PAIN!"
Damian’s interruption was a scream that made the observation window vibrate.
His body shook violently, blood pouring faster as new vessels ruptured from the strain.
"Mental defense skills?! Why the fuck would I use them to reduce the pressure?!"
He laughed again, the sound carrying genuine ecstasy.
"Pressure is the greatest blessing a human can ever receive! It’s the hammer that forges weakness into strength! It’s what separates those who ascend from those who rot in comfort!"
[WILL: 465 → 467]
His legs straightened further, lifting him another few inches as tendons screamed in protest.
"A man who fears pressure has already lost before the battle begins! Comfort is the slow death of potential! Safety is the cage that keeps you crawling when you should be flying!"
His voice became louder, more certain, carrying conviction that made the air itself seem to vibrate.
"Every breath under crushing weight is evolution in motion! Every second you refuse to break is another step toward becoming something this universe has never seen before!"
[WILL: 467 → 471]
"!!!"
Outside the chamber, absolute silence had fallen.
Sicar stood frozen, his pink eyes locked on Damian’s rising form through the observation window.
’He’s using the mental pressure itself to refine his willpower...’
His hands clenched, recognition settling into his bones.
’Damian Valcor... If we don’t make him an ally of the Verratoux family, he will become our greatest bane.’
Regulus’s hands had clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing becoming heavier.
Something was burning in his chest, spreading through his veins like liquid fire.
’Why does watching him fight the pressure make me want to charge back in there?’
His blood was boiling, every word Damian had screamed resonating in ways he couldn’t explain.
’When was the last time I pushed myself like that? When was the last time I chose pain over comfort?’
Helena’s eyes were wide, her hands pressed flat against the observation window.
’Mini... You have no idea how cool your hero truly is!’
Torin’s scarred face had gone pale, his body trembling with excitement.
’If that’s not a genius, then no one else deserves that title.’
The Sword Demon’s expression had become serious, his usual smile completely gone.
’When was the last time I saw someone with eyes like that?... Ah, I remember... It was you, wasn’t it?... Darius Bloodworth.’
Icarus’s hand moved toward the control mechanism.
Zara’s head whipped toward him, her voice cutting across the observation area.
"Icarus! Why did you increase the level?! That’s S rank mental pressure! You’re risking permanent damages to a candidate!"
Icarus stared at his own hand, confusion flickering across his features.
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
"I... don’t know... his eyes... my hand moved before I could think."
A memory surfaced unbidden, words from a report he’d read a few days ago flashing through his mind.
To: Federation High Command From: Ezra Thorne, Arch-Inquisitor of Military Police Re: Candidate Recommendation - Damian Valcor
Reason: I am not recommending this candidate for his talent. There are many in the Federation with higher natural gifts.
I am not recommending him for his current strength. There are many awakeners stronger than him at equivalent rank.
I am recommending Damian Valcor because he possesses something far more dangerous than talent or strength.
He has the ability to make people follow him to their deaths... willingly. And not through manipulation or coercion or any kind of mental skills, but through his words and sheer conviction alone.
When he moves, others move with him. When he fights, others find courage they didn’t know they possessed. When he refuses to break, everyone around him becomes incapable of breaking.
This is not a skill that can be taught or trained. It is a fundamental quality that separates leaders from survivors.
If anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to test him when he arrives at the Northern Military Training Centre.
Icarus’s eyes tracked back to the chamber, to where Damian stood screaming about pressure and evolution.
Around the observation area, candidates who had been eliminated were straightening their postures, their exhaustion forgotten.
Prior to meeting Damian Valcor, Icarus thought the report was just exaggerating, but looking at it now...
’Is this what you were talking about, Arch-Inquisitor Thorne? I... understand now.’