Chapter 96: Tear of Aetheris

"Do you understand the magnitude of what you’re asking of me?"

Veyra stared at Caelus, her eyes sharp with disbelief.

"I’m your disciple, remember?" he replied, staring her dead in the eye. "That makes the Headmaster my grandmaster. Surely he wouldn’t mind, even if it’s something he made himself."

Veyra regarded him for several seconds.

"That’s your argument?"

"Would you prefer a better one?"

She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

Skills were exceptionally rare, even in labyrinths, and most people possessed one at most. Despite being the son of a duke, Caelus’s only skill was Basic Swordsmanship, which he had developed himself through training.

Body-altering skills were rarer still, granting capabilities that conventional practice could not reproduce. Even a mediocre one could cost hundreds of thousands of gold coins, and the technique he wanted had been created by Headmaster Dover himself.

Dover was one of the empire’s six Primordials, and a technique developed and personally entrusted by him was hardly an ordinary inheritance.

Caelus expected Veyra would eventually pass the skill to him, just as she would probably pass it to Eve. They were both her disciples, after all. He simply had no intention of waiting years for her to decide he deserved it.

"This is too soon," Veyra said at last. "I’ll speak with the Headmaster first, and I won’t proceed with our deal until I’ve verified your information. I’m not handing over something he personally entrusted to me just because you’ve decided to put six notebooks on my desk."

"That’s all I wanted to hear."

"No, what you wanted was the skill book."

"And now I know you’re considering it."

Veyra’s expression darkened.

"Get out."

Caelus stood, looking perfectly satisfied with himself. He had not secured the book, and his agreement with MIST remained conditional, but Veyra was willing to verify his information and consult Dover. That was sufficient progress for one meeting.

He turned toward the door.

"Healing potions won’t always help you," Veyra said behind him. "Go to the infirmary and get proper treatment."

Caelus paused with his hand on the handle, then glanced over his shoulder.

"I’ll keep that in mind."

"Caelus."

He met her eyes.

"Go to the infirmary."

He gave her a curt nod, a small smile remaining on his face, and stepped outside before she could find another reason to keep him there.

At least one thing is done.

Caelus adjusted his sleeve and started toward the exit, already considering what he could do with the time he had gained.

If Veyra obtained the Headmaster’s approval, the body-modification skill could be a considerable advantage in combat, while its disguising capabilities would help him move without attracting attention. He would need to learn its mechanics before deciding how to incorporate it into his fighting style.

The other prospect was considerably less dependent on anyone else’s approval.

The Tear of Aetheris.

Caelus had known about the artifact since before his transmigration. In the original story, it was a legendary healing treasure capable of regenerating wounds, curing diseases, and extending lifespan. Its assimilation process, however, was brutal. The body reconstructed itself from within, inflicting excruciating pain that could become fatal if the user’s foundation could not withstand the strain.

He had deliberately postponed seeking it because, at D-rank, the pain of assimilation would have fried his brain and killed him. Regeneration meant little if the process destroyed him before the artifact could finish integrating with his body.

Now he had advanced to C-rank.

That did not make the process safe, but it changed the calculation enough to make pursuing the Tear worthwhile. He could tolerate more than before, and its regenerative effects offered a way to recover from physical damage that ordinary treatment could not match. He would still have to account for the strain of assimilation and the condition of his mana circuits, but those were problems to be assessed, not reasons to abandon the idea outright.

Train, recover, repeat.

Caelus’s mouth curved slightly.

That sounded considerably better than spending another week nursing injuries because he had decided that catching a claymore with his bare hand was a reasonable way to settle an argument.

The smile faded as he remembered the state of his left forearm after the duel.

He had won, and the victory had been worth the effort. It had also left him bleeding on the platform, with damaged circuits and an arm that still protested whenever he moved it the wrong way. His tactical advantage had carried him through the fight, but it had not made him invulnerable.

He had no intention of abandoning tactics. They were among his greatest advantages. But he could make better use of them if his body could endure more, and if recovery no longer consumed so much of his time.

The Tear was worth pursuing. So was the skill book.

His progress might cause further deviations in the story, but deviations were already a given. There was little value in preserving a path that no longer existed.

He had not survived death only to spend the rest of his life guarding the sequence of events in a novel he had written himself.

Caelus reached the end of the corridor and stepped outside.

Veyra had ordered him to visit the infirmary. She would probably be annoyed when she discovered that he had ignored her, but the worst of his physical injuries had eased after the healing potion, and he could walk without difficulty. His mana circuits were still damaged, though, and he knew better than to mistake reduced pain for complete recovery.

He would deal with that soon enough.

For now, he had an afternoon to himself.

Afternoon classes were scheduled, but a duel against the Academy’s Seventh Rank provided an excellent excuse to miss them. Nobody was likely to complain if the Apex needed time to recover, and Caelus had no intention of volunteering for lectures when he could prepare for the upcoming team evaluation test instead.

The evaluation would require more than the individual combat skills he had demonstrated against Ruven. Working with a team introduced variables he could not control through personal strength alone. Even capable individuals could become liabilities when they failed to coordinate, while a group that understood its members’ abilities could accomplish considerably more than its strongest fighter acting independently.

He needed to consider how his assigned teammates might perform under pressure, which abilities could complement each other, and where poor coordination would create openings for an opponent. He also needed to determine what he could reasonably accomplish without aggravating his injuries.

That last part was irritating, particularly since the most obvious solution was to follow Veyra’s instructions.

Caelus decided not to dwell on it.

He started toward his mansion, his thoughts already turning to the evaluation and the preparation he could complete before it began. He would review what he knew about the test, assess the resources available to him, and make use of the remaining time rather than spend it waiting for Veyra’s answer.

The Tear of Aetheris would depend on MIST. The skill book would depend on Veyra and the Headmaster. Neither was in his hands yet.

The evaluation, however, was coming regardless.

Caelus had no intention of entering it unprepared.