The walk back from the ruins was a blur of static and salt. Nikolas moved like a ghost through the Salvatore gardens, his internal sensors screaming in a rhythmic, pulsing red that only he could perceive.
[WARNING: VITALITY AT 2%]
[NOTICE]: Emergency Stasis Protocol Available. Cost: 50 Experience Points.
[CURRENT EXP]: 10/100.
"I don't have enough," Nikolas whispered, his hand clutching the cold stone of the manor's rear entrance. "I have to do it the human way."
He reached his room by sheer force of spite. He didn't turn on the lamp; the moonlight filtering through the small, high window was enough to illuminate the floating red text that refused to leave him alone. He collapsed onto his cot, the straw mattress feeling like a bed of thorns against his pulverized chest.
But as his eyes drifted shut, the world didn't go dark. Instead, the red light grew blinding, swirling into a vortex that pulled at the very center of his chest.
[THRESHOLD DETECTED: THE CRIMSON DEN]
[ACCESS GRANTED: LEVEL 2 REQUIREMENT BYPASSED BY 'UNYIELDING WILL']
[INITIALIZING CHRONO-SYNC...]
Nikolas felt a sensation of falling—not through the floor, but through time itself. The smell of dust and old linens vanished, replaced by the scent of ozone and dry, metallic earth. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in his closet-sized room.
He was standing on a vast, obsidian plain that stretched infinitely in every direction. Above him, a moon the color of a fresh wound hung in a sky of pitch-black velvet. There were no stars. There was only the moon and the silence.
"Where am I?" Nikolas asked, his voice echoing as if he were standing in a cathedral.
[ZONE]: The Crimson Den (Personal Training Dimension).
[TIME RATIO]: 4:1 (Four hours here equals one hour in the physical world).
[RECOVERY RATE]: +200% Passive Health Regeneration.
Nikolas looked down at his hands. They weren't shaking anymore. He pulled back his tunic, expecting to see the purple-black mess of his ribs, but the skin was clear—though a faint, red lattice of light shimmered beneath the surface, showing where the System was still "knitting" the bone.
"Four hours to one?" Nikolas breathed. "If I stay here for a night... I can train for days."
[DIRECTIVE]: Select First Mastery. The 'Runt' cannot survive the next assessment with 'Pain Suppression' alone.
[AVAILABLE BRANCHES]:
1. [VANGUARD'S REFLEX]: Enhances perception of incoming strikes (Leo's Legacy).
2. [SHADOW-STEP]: Short-range burst of speed using Abyssal residue.
3. [BLOOD-ORCHESTRA]: Internal mana control for Low-Class vessels.
Nikolas stared at the names. His heart throbbed at the mention of the Vanguard. He could almost hear Leo's voice: "You're leaning too far right, Niko!"
"Vanguard's Reflex," Nikolas said firmly. "I won't let them hit me like that again."
[SKILL SELECTED: VANGUARD'S REFLEX (RANK 0)]
[TUTORIAL INITIALIZING...]
The obsidian floor beneath him rippled. Out of the shadows emerged a figure. It was featureless, a mannequin made of swirling grey smoke, but it held a training stick exactly like the one Marcus had used.
[OBJECTIVE]: Dodge 100 strikes. Do not counter. Do not fall.
The mannequin didn't wait. It moved with the same explosive, "Noble" speed Marcus possessed.
Nikolas moved to the left, but he was too slow. The smoke-stick caught him in the shoulder, sending a jolt of simulated pain through his nerves. It wasn't as lethal as the real world, but the System made sure he felt the failure.
[DODGES: 0/100]
"Again," Nikolas growled.
He spent what felt like hours on that obsidian plain. The mannequin was relentless, its movements calculated to exploit every flaw in his "Low-Class" stance. He fell a dozen times. He bled from his nose. He felt his lungs burning.
But something was happening. The red grid in his vision wasn't just showing him his health anymore; it was beginning to map the mannequin's trajectory. He saw the "wind-up" in the smoky shoulder. He saw the shift in the weight of its feet.
"Think like a wolf, Niko," Leo's voice echoed in his memory. "The world is a wall. Find the crack."
Nikolas stopped looking at the stick. He started looking at the space where the stick was going to be.
He dipped his shoulder. The stick whistled an inch above his head.
[DODGES: 45/100]
He spun on his heel, his movement fluid and low to the ground.
[DODGES: 72/100]
By the time the hundredth strike hissed through the air and missed his chest by a hair's breadth, Nikolas was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, but his eyes were glowing with a faint, predatory red light.
[SKILL LEVELED UP: VANGUARD'S REFLEX (RANK 1)]
[EFFECT]: Perception of high-speed targets increased by 15%.
[NOTICE]: Chrono-Sync ending. Physical dawn approaching.
The obsidian plain began to dissolve, the red moon fading into the grey light of a real-world morning.
Nikolas blinked, and suddenly he was back on his straw mattress. The room was cold, and his body was stiff, but the crushing agony in his chest had receded to a dull, manageable throb. He checked his status.
[HP: 65/100]
[STATUS]: Fatigued but Functional.
He stood up, testing his weight. He felt lighter. More importantly, he felt focused.
He walked to the window and looked out toward the training grounds. He knew that today, Marcus would be looking for him. His father would be waiting to see if the "runt" could even stand.
Nikolas pulled on his tunic, hiding the bandages and the wooden wolf in his pocket. He practiced his "Actor's Veil," slumping his shoulders just enough to look tired, letting his eyes look a little glassy and unfocused.
He walked out of his room, down the servant's stairs, and into the light of the courtyard.
Marcus was already there, leaning against a stone pillar, tossing a small stone into the air and catching it. When he saw Nikolas, his eyes widened in genuine disbelief.
"You're walking," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave. "I felt your ribs snap, Niko. You shouldn't be out of bed for a month."
"I have a fast metabolism," Nikolas said, keeping his voice small and respectful. "And Mother gave me some very strong herbs."
"Herbs don't fix a shattered sternum," Marcus muttered, stepping closer. He looked for the limp, for the wince, for the shaking hands. He found nothing but the "Average Joe" mask Nikolas had perfected in the Crimson Den.
"Maybe you just hit like a human, Marcus," Nikolas thought, though his lips remained pressed in a thin, neutral line.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]:
[DECEPTION SUCCESSFUL]
[REMARK]: The predator is confused. Maintain the veil.
Nikolas walked past his brother toward the kitchen gardens, his heart beating with a steady, icy rhythm. He wasn't just surviving anymore.