Clara's question still lingered in the hallway as we returned to my room.
"What will you do about Maria?"
"She dies," I replied flatly, closing the door behind us. "One spy is enough to run off and cry to their higher-ups. I'm not running a support group here."
Clara didn't say anything after that. Smart girl. She probably realized I wasn't being dramatic.
Maria had served her purpose. Thanks to her, my not-so-difficult-to-figure-out plan worked out far more smoothly than expected. Still, just because a tool was useful didn't mean you kept it around after the job was done.
As soon as we got in, I threw myself onto the bed and sighed, finally stopping the circulation of mana I'd been keeping up just to walk without my injured joints trash-talking me.
Rookie-level mana control and extended circulation don't mix well. It felt like unclenching a fist I'd been holding for hours, relief laced with dull pain.
Clara took one step toward me, probably to lecture me again.
"We've got a few hours until the meeting," I said, looking at the window.
"Perfect." I sat up cross-legged on the bed, forcing my posture straight. "Let's not waste it. Time to cultivate. You too."
She blinked. "Me, Young Master?"
"You've helped me patch up my basics, right? Let me return the favor. I'll supervise your mana control training this time." I slid off the bed and sat on the floor at a comfortable distance from her.
Clara's expression twitched. "Young Master, you shouldn't be sitting on the floor with those injuries. It's unbefitting."
I waved her off. "I'm fine. Lying on the bed feels like cheating. Besides…" I tapped the stack of books she brought me over the past few days.
"I found something interesting." I said, flashing a grin like a child ready to report his day to his parents.
"Elves, the nature-hippies of the world, have some pretty neat tricks when it comes to mana cultivation."
She adjusted her posture as she sat on the floor too, graceful as ever. "You mean their elemental affinity-based techniques?"
"Exactly." I grinned. "They're mana-rich creatures. So much so that their mana naturally manifests into pure elemental forms—fireballs, ice spears, you name it."
"And humans… don't." She said, with a trace of disappointment, half-guessing that I might suggest we follow their cultivation techniques.
"Right. Our mana's diluted as hell. Not even close to being dense enough to do magic. Best we can manage is some second-rate applications like aura blades, aura enchantments, or sensing techniques."
Clara nodded thoughtfully. "It's why even elite human mages can't compare to an average elven spellcaster."
"Bingo. Now here's the juicy bit. One of the books you brought had a chapter by a famous researcher and a Great sage, Isolde.
"She worked with elves back in the day and documented a lot of their practices. One of them? Co-cultivation."
Clara tilted her head, intrigued. "I've heard of it… But only vaguely. Isn't it a forgotten method?"
"Extinct, yeah. But listen. There's a group of elves born without any elemental affinity, they are called natureless mana users."
Clara eyes litup probably by hearing a familiar term. "Natureless mana users aren't born with a natural affinity towards a specific element, hence they can't utilise the catalytic properties of nature like other Elves do"
"Yes and since they can't rely on natural catalysts like thermal vents or cold springs, they invented co-cultivation. Basically, they'd meditate together, their mana flowing in sync. No elemental viscosity means smoother circulation when they're in a group."
Great sage Isolde represented mana in her theories as clear water. Pure, boring, tasteless. But depending on your elemental affinity, that water gets dyed, like red for fire, blue for water, dark blue for ice, and so on.
The stronger the affinity, the deeper the color. Now, natureless mana users? Their mana stays completely clear. No dye. No elemental bias.
Which means they can mess around with any element they want...fire, wind, ice, whatever, since they're not tied down.
The catch? They can't really specialize in anything. Jack of all trades, master of none.
On the other hand, those with actual affinity use nature as their training partner. Fire users hang out near thermal vents, wind users climb cliffs and yell into the sky or whatever.
Nature boosts them. It acts like a catalyst, speeding up their mana growth. But yeah, that's a luxury only the dyed ones get. The clear-water folks can't tap into that system.
So natureless mana users developed 'co-cultivation' technique.
"That sounds efficient," Clara mused. "But how does it relate to humans?"
I smiled. "Glad you asked. Great sage Isolde had this theory. She noticed that humans, while not truly natureless, have such low elemental affinity that our mana is practically clear water with a smidge of food coloring. So, in her eyes, we're pseudo-natureless mana users."
"Interesting…" Clara's eyes lit up. "But co-cultivation never worked for humans, did it?"
"Exactly. Because our mana's so diluted, it doesn't flow efficiently. Even if we try to mimic the elves, we don't get the benefit. Without a catalyst, co-cultivation's as useful as teaching a fish to climb a tree."
She nodded slowly. "Then… how will it work now?"
I leaned back slightly, arms folded behind my head.
"Well, let's just say… I've got a method. If it works, I'll explain it later."
Clara's brows furrowed, but she bowed her head respectfully. "Understood."
She closed her eyes, breathing evenly as she began her cultivation. I followed suit, but not before smirking to myself.
See, the key difference this time wasn't the method, it was the catalyst.
If nature acted as a catalyst for elves, maybe my innate skill could serve a similar role. 'Inspect' wasn't just for analyzing things; it was a psychological S+ tier skill.
And if it really had that kind of catalytic influence on mana, then this theory might just work. Maybe Isolde never tested it simply because no one else had this skill.
If I'm right, then even Clara, who's stuck at 53% mana mastery, might break through. And me? Well, I'm not expecting miracles. Just a minor revolution in cultivation theory.
With that final thought, I took a deep breath and started to guide the mana through my body, letting Clara's aura resonate nearby.
Let the experiment begin.
Three and a half hours.
Clara didn't fall behind for even a second. She kept up with me the entire time, silent, focused, unwavering.
I was the one keeping an eye on her through Inspect, but she didn't need it. Her dedication alone could've told me everything.
The moment I ended the session, I scanned my own mana circuit. Not much had changed on the surface.
My circulation felt… normal. Maybe a little lighter, smoother, but barely noticeable. But Inspect told a different story, my mana stat had shifted from 33 to 39.
Six points.
Still rookie numbers. Not enough to feel a real difference, at least not yet. I rubbed the back of my neck, slightly disappointed, but then I turned to Clara.
She was just staring at her palms.
Wide-eyed. As if she'd never seen her own hands before. Her breathing had gone shallow, and her skin had a faint sheen of sweat, not from exhaustion, but something else. Anticipation. Shock. Hope?
And then her Inspect window opened. I almost laughed.
Fifty-four percent.
She broke through. The 53% bottleneck… shattered.
"Young Master…" she whispered, and I swear her voice cracked. It trembled like a thread trying not to snap.
Her eyes stayed locked on her palms, like they were glowing. "My mana... it feels heavier. Denser… It's real. It's actually denser."
Then came the smile.
That soft, hesitant curl of her lips. The kind that starts small but grows no matter how much you try to hold it back.
She looked like she was struggling to believe what her own body was telling her and failing to contain the joy that came with it.
And I understood. I understood everything in that one expression.
One year.
One long, damn year stuck at that bottleneck. Training day after day, pouring her soul into practice, and getting nothing in return.
No progress. No reward. Just the same cold plateau. While others, those born with flashy B and B+ innate skills, kept climbing. Faster, stronger, constantly improving.
Even the ones who were weaker than her once… they'd all moved on. Climbed ahead. Left her behind.
So yeah, if she wanted to cry right now, I'd let her. If she wanted to laugh, scream, or fall to her knees, I wouldn't stop her.
Because every emotion she felt at that moment was justified.
Every damn bit of it.
"I think… I think my output's increased," Clara's voice still trembled, but now it was racing, like a little kid who just found a secret stash of candy in the garden.
Her hands flailed as she spoke, trying to explain her mana flow, her pulse rate, her breathing technique, all at once.
"My circuits were tight before, like they'd snap if I forced it, but now it's like...like the threads are thicker, stronger! I can actually feel the mana pushing through every inch like it's alive! And when I tried the third-stage loop....it responded!.... I though it was inactive by default..."
She kept going. A blur of half-formed sentences, giddy theories, excitement barely kept in check. If she'd had a chalkboard and some tea, I think she would've drawn diagrams.
I just sat there, listening. Quietly.
It wasn't like her at all, this blabbering mess of a person with flushed cheeks and stars in her eyes. She was usually all poise and discipline, but right she was just...normal.
And then she caught herself.
Her mouth closed mid-sentence, eyes snapping to mine. She straightened her back like a rod of steel had just been shoved down her spine, and her expression went stiff with practiced grace. "Apologies, Young Master. I… lost myself."
She bowed slightly, and her voice returned to that familiar respectful cadence. "Thank you for the guidance. This method… it's remarkable. If refined and tested, it could truly change how the world views you."
I tilted my head. "Yeah… about that." I let my smile thin. "I don't plan on making it public."
Her eyes widened, just a little.
"I tweaked the method," I said, leaning back slightly, eyes on the ceiling before returning her gaze. "Took bits from the Great sage Isolde's co-cultivation theory. But… I didn't do it for the world."
Clara tilted her head slightly, listening.
"I did it for you."
She froze.
"I mean, think of it as… a thank you. For what you've done, and what you'll continue to do."
She didn't speak.
She just stood there, straight-backed, hands still folded neatly in front of her, but her eyes… they told a different story. Like her world tilted just a little to the side.
Truth be told, I wasn't just doing this out of gratitude.
I couldn't afford to make this public.
Not yet.
If word got out that I had an S+ ranked skill, that could tweak co-cultivation theory to help others break through bottlenecks? The nobles would sniff it out before I even had a chance to breathe.
They'd swarm like carrion birds. Leech it. Regulate it. Weaponize it.
And that's not what I wanted.
No… this method was something I designed with people like Clara in mind. Those with strength, resolve, and talent, but born without flashy innate skill or noble favor.
People overlooked. People underestimated.
I wanted to find more of them.
Gather them.
Grow with them.
And together… build the kind of world I couldn't in my previous life.
This wasn't a gift to the empire. It was the seed of something much bigger.
And it had to stay buried a while longer.
Ping.
An Inspect window flickered in the corner of my vision.
Sylvia arrived, just in time. Seems like the meeting is over.
"Clara," I said gently.
She didn't respond.
"...Clara."
Still nothing.
I blinked. "Clara."
Her lips parted slightly, but the words didn't come.
"Clara," I said again, softly this time.
She flinched. "Y-Yes, Young Master!"
"Sylvia knocked. Twice. She would appreciate a tea during conversation."
"I...I'll prepare it right away."
And just like that, she moved. Swift, precise, and perfectly composed
"The door's unlocked," I added.
Sylvia walked in with the grace of a noble and the heart rate of someone walking into a battlefield barefoot.
She gave me a nod. composed, calm, maybe a little too formal, and took her seat across the table.
Clara poured tea like a spirit trained by the gods themselves, not a single ripple in her movements.
Ping.
Another Inspect window. This one wasn't Sylvia's.
It was Clara's.
And I blinked. Still confused as to why did it pop-up.
Must be because there was an update.
Loyalty stat… had jumped.
Not by one. Not two.
Nine whole points. 72 to 81%
That's absurd.
The higher the stat, the harder it is to move. A one-point increase at this stage was a miracle. But nine?
All from aiding a breakthrough?
No… it wasn't just that. The intention. The fact that someone, anyone, had looked at her year-long struggle and said:
"I see you." But.. 9 points?....that too from 72?
I didn't understand it fully.
But I knew I couldn't waste time on it now.
I glanced at the hesitant figure before me, sylvia.
Sylvia reached for her cup.
Didn't drink it.
Just held it there, like it would give her courage.
I leaned back in my chair, watching her carefully controlled expression. Not a hair out of place, not a breath wasted. And yet—
She was nervous.
Not the kind of nervous you get before a spar or a court presentation. No, this was worse.
This was social anxiety with stakes.
She was trying to figure out how to say it.
How to tell me about the broken engagement, discussed during the meeting.
How to phrase it so it wouldn't be awkward, wouldn't shift the mood, wouldn't give me the wrong idea.
Poor girl.
Worried I'd misunderstand… about a political engagement she thinks got dissolved behind her back, when I'm the one who broke it off.
Yesterday. With a single message through Gaveric.
Sent while half-asleep, shirtless, hair still damp from my bath.
And now here she was, likely rehearsing lines in her head like:
"About the matter of the marriage proposal—"
"I hope you don't mind—"
"This was never my intention to offend—"
I almost smirked.
Because whatever her reasons were, whatever weight she was carrying in that flawless posture, she meant it. The caution, the nerves, the effort not to hurt me.
That was real.
And I respected that.
Even if I'd already moved the chess pieces while she was busy deciding whether or not to play the game.