Chapter 39: New skill
The quiet of Ward 4 settled back over the room the moment the heavy oak door clicked shut, leaving only the soft, ambient hum of the wall runes and the rhythmic rise and fall of Skull’s chest.
Atlas let his head sink into the thin hospital pillow, exhaling a long, shuddering breath that rattled deep in his ribs.
The lingering exhaustion was heavy, but his mind was crystal clear.
’First things first,’ Atlas thought, raising his hand to swipe through the air, bringing up the glowing bronze interface of his System. ’I can’t have him walking around looking like an abyssal nightmare.’
He navigated directly to the [SOUL LINK & ENTITY MANAGEMENT] tab.
The panel flickered to life, displaying a detailed three-dimensional rendering of Skull’s new, mass-increased form — complete with black obsidian bone plating, broad shoulders, and the faint, cold distortion of spatial energy coiling around his paws.
[ENTITY VISUAL DISGUISE PROTOCOL]
[Current Manifestation State: Evolved Void-Shadow Wolf (Silver Rank Aura Detected)]
[Available Suppression Settings:]
1. Full Active Form (Unrestricted)
2. Compressed Base Form (Iron Rank Aura Masking)
3. Shadow Sub-Space Storage]
Atlas tapped the second option without hesitation.
In the corner of the room, Skull let out a soft whine as the shadowy tendrils whipping off his legs pulled inward.
The dense, obsidian-like bone armor along his spine receded beneath his dark fur, his broad chest shrinking back down to his sleek, agile base form.
The heavy, oppressive aura hovering over the stone floor dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind what appeared to be an ordinary, slender shadow wolf.
[DISGUISE APPLIED: COMPRESSED BASE FORM]
[Visual Output: Iron-Rank Shadow Entity]
[Note: Full stats and skills remain accessible via instant combat deployment.]
Atlas looked over at the wolf, who shook himself off like a dog shedding water before walking over and resting his head on the edge of the mattress.
Atlas reached down, running his fingers through the soft, cool fur behind Skull’s ears.
"Much better," Atlas muttered softly. "Keep that look on the outside. We let them think you’re still a weak Iron-rank beast so they keep walking blindly into our traps."
With Skull’s appearance secured, Atlas turned his attention back to his personal resource pool. He tapped into his bank, reviewing the gains earned from surviving the lethal encounter and winning the duel.
[TOTAL SHADOW ESSENCE AVAILABLE: 3,450 S.E.]
[AVAILABLE SKILL UNLOCK DETECTED]
[SENSORY MASTERY skill: PERCEPTION III]
[Skill Name: Graywolf enhanced Perception (Passive/Active)]
[Cost: 2,300 S.E.]
[Description: Drastically heightens the Beast’s olfactory and spiritual perception traits. Allows the beast to detect and track the unique scent of blood, active internal hemorrhaging, or dying life-forces within a 45-meter radius. Ignores standard physical barriers.]
Atlas stared at the description for a brief second.
’A tracking trait that bypasses physical line of sight... that’s invaluable for ambushes and hunting hidden targets.’
He pressed his thumb against the confirmation glyph.
[2,300 S.E. DEDUCTED. REMAINING BALANCE: 1,150 S.E.]
[Skill unlocked: GrayWolf Enhanced Nasal Perception (GRADE I)]
A sharp, icy spike burned through the bridge of Skull’s nose, shooting directly up between his eyes and anchoring deep inside his brain stem.
Atlas gasped, watching as Skull tried to grab unto the bedsheets as his senses expanded violently outward, some of which also affected him because of their soul link.
The air in the room suddenly exploded into distinct layers.
He didn’t just smell the sharp, chemical tang of the moon-lily ointment or the dry dust settling on the window sill — he could smell the faint, metallic trace of dried copper in his own bloodstream from his healing spinal wound.
Beyond the closed wooden door, he picked up the stale, iron-heavy scent of blood lingering on the bandage wrappers in the hallway trash bins thirty meters away.
He closed his eyes, taking deep, measured breaths until the overwhelming rush of sensory input dialed back, settling into a controllable, passive hum at the back of his mind.
’That’s intense... but it works,’ he thought, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.
Atlas let the System windows collapse into light particles before pulling up his communicator device from the small side table.
He tapped the glowing screen, opening his direct line to Cassandra.
He recalled her trembling hands, her unusually pale face, and the cold, unyielding hatred in her eyes when she laid that wrapped syndicate blade on his table.
She had tried to play it cool in front of the instructors, but he knew her well enough to recognize deep-seated panic.
He typed out a short, direct message: When I get discharged next week, I need to talk to you alone. No Rex, no instructors. You have to tell me what that crest on the blade actually means.]
He pressed send, watching the indicator shift to Delivered.
He didn’t expect an immediate reply, but setting the boundary now meant they would address the elephant in the room the moment he stepped out of this bed.
Finally, Atlas sank fully back into the pillows, his dark eyes staring out the small arched window toward the main campus towers lit by distant mana-lamps.
He knew he was stuck in this bed for the next seven days while the healers ran their mandatory protocols.
But outside these walls, the academy was in chaos.
Mr. Crosswell had made it clear that Mr. Gerald was missing, having mysteriously vanished right before the duel began.
Meanwhile, Gregory was sitting in a deep subterranean cell beneath Sector 4, bound in suppression cuffs while security forces tried to crack open his mind before his backers could silence him.
The academy was launching a full investigation, searching for the shadow faction operating under their noses, but Atlas knew how these things went.
High-level syndicates didn’t leave clean trails. By the time he was cleared to leave Ward 4, the initial trail would likely be stone cold, forcing him and Class 5E to rely on their own wits.
’A full week of forced rest...’ Atlas thought, closing his eyes as a heavy, dark wave of sleep finally began to pull him under.
’Seven days to let Skull stabilize, seven days to master this new sensory skill, and seven days for the academy to realize they can’t sweep this under the rug.’
Skull let out a quiet, rhythmic huff from the floor, resting his head on his paws as the light runes on the wall dimmed down to a pale, nocturnal flicker.
Atlas let his breathing sync with the wolf’s, finally letting go of his consciousness and plunging into a deep, dreamless sleep.