Erika stood rooted to the spot, as if he had forgotten to breathe. Wolfgang's icy words—"Watch closely, boy. Your first lesson."—echoed in his mind like a massive bell, not just reverberating in his skull, but violently forcing open a crack in the door of his tightly sealed fate!
First lesson… Not just the first lesson in a classroom!
Before this, Wolfgang had been to him an inscrutable Instructor, a dangerous cleaner, the one who brought him to the Holy Sanctum yet remained deeply reserved about the secrets he carried. Between them lay a vast chasm of rank, a relationship of watcher and watched, fraught with wariness and probing.
But what had just transpired was entirely different.
Wolfgang had bared his torso before him, revealing not just power, but the scars of countless battles—an act of 'exposure' far beyond the ordinary. He had allowed Erika to intrude at his most vulnerable and sensitive moment, right after his breakthrough, letting him witness both his brush with failure and the weary triumph of success.
Most importantly, he had personally demonstrated the "Mind-Blade"—something never touched upon in the basics of the Eternal Circuit Law. This was the enlightenment of true core power, the key to the path of a high-tier cleric! By naming it the "first lesson," its meaning was fundamentally altered.
He wasn't just teaching.He was… guiding.
A thought so audacious it made Erika's head spin pierced the heavy gloom clouding his heart like dawn's first light—
Was Wolfgang, this powerful, high-ranking cleric, willing… to take him as a disciple?
Not the generalized teaching for hundreds in the Indoctrination Hall, but real, personal, thorough guidance!
The impact of this realization struck him even more violently than witnessing the Mind-Blade. For Erika, currently at a dead end, struggling like he was sinking in a dark swamp, this was nothing less than a solid, golden rope descending from the heavens!
He had no other choice.
He understood better than anyone what the personal guidance of a high-tier cleric meant. It was an opportunity countless novices dreamed of but rarely encountered! It meant systematic knowledge, invaluable experience, a shortcut to power, and perhaps… a layer of protection against external malice.
What Wolfgang represented wasn't just power, but a significant faction within the Sanctum itself. He could stand against someone like Balthasar, he participated in the highest-level confidential operations, he knew the deepest workings of this vast machine… If he could gain his protection and guidance, his own precarious situation might truly find a sliver of hope.
A thread of cold reason stirred, like an undercurrent.
He had also keenly sensed the subtle and contradictory aspects of the Creed's operations. Why could someone as cruel and greedy as Balthasar, who treated lives as worthless, thrive within the Sanctum, seemingly even tolerated by the upper echelons? It was utterly different from the purely radiant place of faith he had initially imagined. Beneath the light here lay bottomless shadows and a cold operating logic he had yet to understand.
Wolfgang… which side was he on? Was he a cleaner in the shadows, or… a maintainer of some kind of order, even if that order itself was stained with blood?
Erika didn't know. But he faintly sensed that Wolfgang's actions seemed to have some… bottom line. At the very least, he wouldn't act purely for personal desire and power like Balthasar. Today's demonstration, though brutal, carried a severity that taught "the laws of survival," and perhaps something that could be called… responsibility.
"Only a powerful body can contain more energy. This, at your current stage, is the only thing you need to do."
The words echoed in Erika's mind. They stripped away all flashy techniques and empty promises, pointing directly to the most fundamental core of power. It felt more like laying a foundation, a warning to solidify the base for his future path.
Yet, having reasoned this all out, seeing clearly that this might be his only chance, a deeper sense of powerlessness washed over him.
Even if he could now discern Wolfgang's intentions, vaguely touch the complex web of power within the Sanctum, even guess at the twisted 'rationale' behind the existence of people like Balthasar… so what?
For him, right now, all this understanding was like the moon reflected in water—meaningless.
He was too weak.
So weak he could barely protect himself. A single glance, a rough inspection from Balthasar was enough to send him into an ice-cold panic. A casual sweep of a Tribunal guard's gaze could stop his heart. Even a routine power purge within the Sanctum, the splattering blood, could easily drown an insignificant nobody like him.
He was a lone skiff in stormy seas, liable to be shattered by the next wave. If he couldn't even protect himself, what could he use to uncover the truth about Cecilia? To save the imprisoned Anna? To offer any solace to his fellow villagers or the technical brother who had likely been killed?
Powerlessness.A powerlessness that seeped into his bones.
This feeling didn't vanish with the glimpse of hope; instead, seeing the difficulty of the path ahead and his own insignificance made it more concrete, heavier.
He stood there, head bowed, hands clenching slightly at his sides. Two voices warred fiercely in his mind.
One screamed: Seize it! Grab this only rope! It's your only chance to survive, maybe even change things in the future! Don't hesitate!
The other warned coldly: The cost? There's no such thing as a free lunch. Why did Wolfgang choose you? Because of your Mark of unknown origin? Because your 'timely' rescue put him in your debt? Or because he wants to forge you into a more obedient, sharper blade? Once you step onto this path, there's no turning back. You'll be utterly swept into the Sanctum's deepest whirlpools!
A fine cold sweat broke out on his forehead, not from the residual energy in the cell, but from the fierce battle within.
Time seemed to freeze. Wolfgang said nothing more, simply standing there quietly, recovering his strength, his deep eyes locked on Erika like a hawk's, waiting for his response. He didn't need to press; he knew what the boy was going through. This was a threshold. Step over it, and it was a new world. Step back, and it might be eternal ruin.
Kaelen, by the door, remained uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips as if watching an interesting play.
Finally, the instinct to survive, the thirst for power, the stubborn, faint yet unyielding desire deep within not to sink into oblivion, to grasp any possibility of protecting those who mattered… overwhelmed all fear and doubt.
Erika's head snapped up.
The confusion and terror in his eyes were gone, replaced by the desperate resolve of one with their back against the wall, and a profound awareness that belied his years.
He looked at Wolfgang. He didn't immediately kneel in formal acceptance, nor did he excitedly express gratitude. He knew such formalities were meaningless to a man like Wolfgang.
He simply met Wolfgang's gaze deeply, and then, in an abnormally calm voice that seemed to use every ounce of his strength, asked clearly:
"Instructor, the 'first lesson' you spoke of… how do I begin?"
He didn't ask "why me," or "what must I give." He only asked how to begin.
That simple question was a silent declaration, a heavy acceptance.
He accepted.He accepted this "opportunity," and all the unknown, potentially immense costs that came with it.
Wolfgang looked into his eyes, which seemed to burn with a dark fire. The rigid set of his face softened almost imperceptibly. He didn't smile, but gave a slight nod.
"Now."
He uttered the single word, his voice still hard, but carrying an undeniable finality.
"From here, run back to your room. No use of energy. Your fastest speed. I will appear before you three seconds after you arrive. If you are late…"
He left the threat hanging, the pressure already descending like a mountain.
Erika's pupils contracted. Without the slightest hesitation, he spun around and shot off down the corridor towards the priory dormitories like an unleashed predator, running with everything he had!
His figure swiftly vanished around the corner.
In the contemplation cell, Wolfgang slowly straightened up, working his still-aching muscles. The second Mark on his chest had drawn its golden light inward, appearing even more profound.
Kaelen whistled lazily. "Well, well, Old Wolf, starting to 'dote' on your little disciple already? Couldn't wait, could you?"
Wolfgang ignored his teasing. His gaze remained fixed on the direction Erika had disappeared, his expression complex and inscrutable.
He murmured to himself, so softly only he could hear:
"The seed is planted… whether it grows into a towering tree or withers midway… that is up to you now, Erika."
And now, sprinting desperately down the corridor, Erika heard only the wind whistling in his ears and the drumming of his own heart. He didn't know what the future held—hellish training, or deeper conspiracies.
But he knew, from the moment he asked that question, from the moment he took this first step, his life had embarked on a path from which there was no return—a journey towards power, and into the heart of the storm.