Too quiet.
The stone walls absorbed sound, turning even the faint crackle of mana crystals into distant whispers. A single patient lay upon the narrow bed at the center of the room, his breathing uneven, sweat clinging to his brow despite the cool air.
Victor stood at the foot of the bed, his white robe hanging loosely from his frame, sleeves embroidered with the silver sigil of a healing magician of the Moon Kingdom.
He looked calm.
Detached.
But beneath that still exterior, his mind was already moving faster than any ordinary magician could hope to follow.
"Tell me," Victor said, stepping closer, "what spell are you most proficient in?"
The patient blinked in confusion.
"H-healing magician," the man muttered weakly. "Why does that matter?"
"It matters," Victor replied evenly, "because your life depends on it."
The patient swallowed.
"I use fire magic," he finally said. "A simple Fire Slash."
Victor nodded.
"Good. Circulate your mana according to that spell."
Silence followed.
The patient's eyes widened slightly. Asking a wounded man to circulate mana—especially offensive mana—was not just unconventional. It bordered on reckless.
Mana circulation determined a magician's strength, control, and survival. A single mistake could rupture mana veins permanently.
"I…" The patient hesitated. "Isn't that dangerous?"
Victor's gaze sharpened.
"Do as I say," he replied calmly. "Or leave untreated."
There was no threat in his voice.
That was what frightened the patient the most.
After a moment of hesitation, the man closed his eyes and obeyed.
Mana stirred.
To ordinary eyes, nothing changed.
To Victor—
The world unfolded.
His perception plunged inward, slipping past flesh and bone, beyond blood and nerve, into the invisible architecture that governed life itself.
Mana veins illuminated his awareness like a constellation drawn beneath skin. They branched, intersected, twisted—each one a record of the patient's training, habits, injuries, and innate affinity.
Victor restrained himself.
With Ominous Wisdom, he could sense far more than this. If he allowed his perception to expand fully, he could map every living being in the capital—their mana density, emotional state, even the lies forming on their tongues.
But doing so would be noticed.
And noticed meant dead.
So he compressed his awareness ruthlessly, limiting it to what a baron-level healing magician might reasonably perceive.
Even then, the clarity was overwhelming.
Three cracked ribs… mana scarring along the left lung… internal hemorrhaging suppressed but unstable…
Victor analyzed the damage instantly.
This was where his path diverged from all others.
Before awakening Ominous Wisdom, Victor had only seen one true mana method—the Grey Family's extraction technique. A crude, forceful method designed to rip mana from the surroundings and burn it explosively.
After awakening?
He was forbidden from practicing magic entirely.
No cultivation manuals.
No spellcasting.
No mana circulation in public.
Yet wisdom did not require permission.
With Ominous Wisdom, Victor did something unprecedented.
He rebuilt magic from understanding alone.
He redesigned mana circulation in theory—optimizing efficiency, minimizing waste, reinforcing internal pathways. He discovered that mana loss was not inevitable; it was a flaw of imperfect techniques.
Over six silent years, Victor refined his internal circulation until it reached a terrifying level.
In this world, magicians were divided into five recognized ranks:
Baron-level Magicians – Entry-level nobles of magic. Capable of basic spellcasting and limited mana control.
Viscount-level Magicians – Skilled practitioners with stable mana cores and refined circulation.
Earl-level Magicians – Experts capable of large-scale magic and sustained combat.
Duke-level Magicians – Monsters who could alter terrain, command battlefields, and crush armies.
King-level Magicians – Existences bordering on calamity. Walking disasters.
Officially—
Victor was a baron-level healer.
In reality?
His mana reserves, efficiency, and internal stability rivaled king-level magicians.
And yet—no one could sense it.
Victor had designed his circulation method to conceal density, dispersing mana evenly through micro-pathways rather than allowing it to pool outwardly. To external senses, his mana appeared shallow, calm, unthreatening.
A perfect disguise.
Victor placed two fingers against the patient's chest.
Mana flowed.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
It entered the patient's body along carefully selected routes, stimulating natural recovery rather than forcing it. He accelerated regeneration by reinforcing cellular mana resonance—something no ordinary healer even knew existed.
The patient gasped.
Warmth spread through his chest like sunlight through frozen stone. Pain dissolved—not suddenly, but as if it had never belonged there.
The man's eyes snapped open.
"How…?" he whispered.
Victor ignored the question.
As he worked, another part of his mind observed something else.
The Fire Slash spell.
The way the patient compressed mana in the lower abdomen.
The unstable release point near the shoulder.
The inefficient spiral that caused unnecessary backlash.
Victor absorbed it instantly.
He didn't copy spells.
He understood them.
By watching mana flow, Victor could reconstruct spells perfectly—then refine them into superior versions.
This was the true terror of Ominous Wisdom.
After several minutes, Victor withdrew his hand and deliberately staggered backward, letting his shoulders slump. His breathing grew shallow.
To observers, it looked like exhaustion.
A baron-level healer spending nearly all his mana.
The patient sat up slowly, disbelief written across his face.
"T-thank you," he said, standing and bowing deeply. "I owe you my life."
Victor nodded weakly.
"Rest," he said. "Avoid mana circulation for three days."
The patient left.
The moment the door closed, Victor straightened.
The exhaustion vanished.
Fire Slash acquired.
In his mind, Victor rebuilt the spell. Strengthened the compression. Stabilized the release. Reduced mana loss by thirty percent.
Another spell added to the thousands he already possessed.
Victor returned to his office and sat down heavily.
A sharp pain bloomed behind his eyes.
He pressed his fingers to his temples.
Headache.
A familiar price of suppressing Ominous Wisdom.
But there was another reason.
Arthur…
Though the full surveillance team had been withdrawn, one knight remained.
Arthur.
A formidable presence. A man whose perception bordered on abnormal. Years ago, Victor had saved him during a battlefield incident—an unnecessary act of mercy.
I shouldn't have saved him, Victor thought coldly.
The thought passed.
Then—
BANG!
The door to his cabinet exploded open, slamming into the wall.
Victor flinched.
A girl stormed inside.
Silver hair flowed like moonlight, eyes blazing with confidence and impatience. She wore the same white robe—but on her, it radiated authority.
"Victor!" she snapped. "Battle me."
Victor froze.
"…Princess Lily."
The Moon Kingdom's pride.
A healing prodigy.
Bearer of the royal talent Heart of the Moon—a talent that granted overwhelming mana reserves, enhanced physical strength, and perfect harmony with lunar mana.
In short—
A monster.
"No," Victor replied instantly.
Lily crossed her arms.
"You've avoided me long enough."
"I'm busy."
She stepped closer.
"I'm a healer, not a fighter."
She cracked her knuckles.
"That's why this is healing combat."
Victor turned to flee.
He didn't make it two steps.
Lily appeared before him in a blur, grabbed his collar, and lifted him effortlessly.
"…You're a brute," Victor said flatly.
Her eye twitched.
"And violent," he added. "Uncivilized."
Her grip tightened.
"You will battle me," she said sweetly.
Victor struggled—but it was useless.
Though a healer, Lily's Heart of the Moon reinforced her body naturally. Raw physical strength surged through her limbs without conscious effort.
Victor sighed.
So troublesome…
As she dragged him toward the training ward, Victor's headache worsened.
Not from pain.
From inevitability.
Because deep within Ominous Wisdom—
He already knew.
This "battle" would not remain unnoticed.
And attention…
Was the one thing Victor