Chapter 31: Crybaby

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: Crybaby

The pungent smell of blood from the torn corpses seemed to still linger in the air. Anno shivered slightly, lowering her voice to report, every word uttered carrying absolute caution:

"Aside from the descendants of families opposing the Valmont family, the movement of other aristocrats simultaneously targeting Young Master Jeremy... is highly likely secretly orchestrated by the Crown Prince behind the scenes.

However, Young Master Jeremy is absolutely not a soft persimmon that lets others mold him. Right on the first day of enrollment, he bluntly discarded the marriage pact in front of everyone when provoked by that Crown Prince.

Through today’s battle and his micro-reactions, the rumors about a ’useless, wicked young master’ are completely unfounded. A person like him... will definitely not let himself become prey for others to tear apart. Please rest assured, Young Master."

"... Is that so."

Raphael’s long, slender fingertips slowly traced the raised veins of the silver ring engraved with a lily of the valley. His voice was as light as a feather landing on calm water, but the trailing syllable tore open a paper-thin, chilling coldness.

Hovering, uncertain, making the listener inadvertently hold their breath, unable to grasp the true calculation within.

Anno immediately bowed her head, not daring to utter another word. As a shadow guard accompanying him since childhood, her only wish was simply to hope he could safely pass his six years of cultivation at the academy without encountering any turbulent incidents.

At another corner of St. Aetherwing Academy.

After stepping down from the combat arena, Jeremy had absolutely no intention of looking for his stormy teammates, taking long strides straight to the independent dormitory area of the Anima faculty.

The battle just now was completely not a meaningless display. Right at the moment of the clash, when his blade collided and tore through Raphael’s freezing silver threads, a bizarre magic power shockwave rebounded into his soul sea. It was precisely that subtle stimulation that forcibly awakened the second skill belonging to his natal Holy Artifact.

A skill possessing an incredibly unique operational mechanism.

As Jeremy just dropped himself onto the sofa in the living room, the light screen from the magic ID card automatically projected, clearly displaying each line of matrix parameters:

[2nd Spirit Covenant Skill officially awakened.]

[Domain of Light and Shadow: The possessor is granted the right to choose one of two completely opposing paths - Domain of Light or Domain of Death.]

[Under the protection of the Domain of Light: Yourself and designated targets will receive a maximum increase in defensive strength and movement speed. If the caster accepts trading 50% of their total magic power as a sacrifice, the selected target will receive double the healing effect.]

(Note: At any given time, the maximum limit can only link up to nine targets. Simultaneously, the healing effect cannot be applied back to the caster themselves.)

[Under the protection of the Domain of Death: Tens of thousands of silent undead beneath the earth will turn into your guardian legion. They can condense into vengeful ghost vines tightly constricting the enemy, or release a gloomy demonic aura directly gnawing at the opponent’s mind.]

[Facing the Domain of Death, those with a fragile willpower threshold will immediately be dragged into the abyss of an endless nightmare, completely losing their combat ability. As for you - the one standing at the peak of the domain - you will become a lord freely manipulating those humanoid corpse puppets.]

(Note: Choices are never a costless pastime; the law of order demands consistency. Once the Domain of Light and Shadow is activated, for the next three days, it will be locked into the corresponding domain, absolutely unchangeable midway.)

The corner of Jeremy’s lips curled into a pragmatic arc. The system analyzed the pros, cons, gains, and losses extremely clearly, perfectly matching his sharp logical thinking.

Right at this moment, the corner of the light screen suddenly blinked.

It was a personal message notification.

In a fleeting breath, Jeremy wondered if it was Raphael, but upon opening it, the displayed name brought a familiar sense of annoyance: Lucius.

The chat frame contained only a single short sentence, reeking of a whiny tone:

[My hands hurt so much.]

Jeremy slightly lowered his eyes, his vision falling on his own right palm. The wound slicing down his palm from the previous battle was quite deep, and had been interfered with by elemental toxins, so even having drained high-end recovery pharmaceuticals, it could not close immediately. The grazing slash on his shoulder was somewhat milder, but every movement still brought a bone-deep aching sensation.

The competition schedules of those four freakish teammates were all arranged in the second half; currently, their arenas had not yet opened. This meant that... the flesh-tearing pain that aristocratic dandy was screaming and complaining about was precisely the direct resonance from the wounds on his body through the team contract.

Lucius: [Why aren’t you bothering to answer me? I am truly hurting to the point of suffocating here.]

Jeremy casually tapped the settings, decisively changing the other’s nickname to "Crybaby", and only then unhurriedly typed a response:

[If it hurts, grit your teeth and bear it. It’s almost healed.]

Throughout the recent string of hellish training days, simply because of this guy’s glass-fragile special constitution and his penchant for playing tricks, the four of them had not infrequently suffered unjust backlash pain. At this moment, letting him taste a bit of the sensation of flesh being torn apart could be considered a form of fairness.

[You won, right?] The reply message arrived at lightning speed.

Although within the team, Lucius and Leon treated each other exactly like air, stabbing and demanding life and death the moment they opened their mouths, his attitude when turning to face Jeremy always maintained a bizarrely bewitching clinginess. These past few days, this silver-haired guy remained exactly like an invisible tail, always finding ways to entangle and revolve around him anytime, anywhere. It was just... his temper seemed to be getting increasingly irritable and harder to please.

Jeremy was almost numb to dealing with the other’s superfluous questions, nimbly typing: [Guess for yourself.]

Crybaby: [Definitely won.]

If the magic positioning system hadn’t clearly displayed four bright dots representing all four of them obediently rooted in the dormitory, Jeremy would have almost thought this guy skipped training to sneak to the actual competition site to watch the match.

[Already knowing the answer and still deliberately asking nonsense?]

Crybaby: [Well, it was clearly because the great Captain told me to guess~]

Without needing to look, one could sketch the expression on his perfect face right now - his narrow, elongated phoenix eyes flushed red from grievance, the corner of his lips curling up both roguishly and bewitchingly. Jeremy let out a soft, hoarse chuckle in his throat, dismissing the virtual screen, ignoring that troublesome guy.

The silent atmosphere of the room passed amidst the rustling sound of flipping pages. Nearly two hours were swallowed by complex narratives on toxicology.

The magic device on the table vibrated slightly once again.

Crybaby: [Is the great Captain truly that cold? The team is about to go to the battlefield, and you aren’t planning to bestow a single word of encouragement?]

Jeremy glanced at the magic clock hanging on the wall.

1:00 PM.

Calculated according to the competition schedule, the four of them were indeed about to step onto the arena to face the first round.

His fingertips lightly tapped the stone tabletop; Jeremy pondered for a few seconds, then highlighted an exemplary sentence, hit copy, and sent a mass broadcast to all four accounts:

[Wishing everyone a smooth competition.]

The whiny guy who had just screamed for encouragement was now completely silent, absolutely not replying. On the contrary, the other three almost immediately responded to the captain’s message.

Evelyn: [Understood.]

Phoenix: [... Thank you, Captain.]

Even Leon - the arrogant guy who always kept a face as cold as frost, treating everyone around him like air these past few days - rarely sent back a short character: [Mhm.]

Although the interaction was minimal to the maximum extent, at least no one completely ignored his message.

His body began to transmit waves of aching and dull throbbing from deep within his joints. Jeremy casually leaned back, sprawling flat onto the expensive leather sofa, squeezing his phoenix eyes shut to rest his mind.

However, having napped for less than a few minutes, sharp pains exactly like daggers tearing flesh repeatedly struck straight into his nervous system, completely brushing away the budding sleepiness.

The corner of Jeremy’s lips twitched slightly. Looking down at the back of his hands and calves, although there were no new surgical wounds, the genuine sensation of pain was erupting fiercely. These freakish guys... just how fiercely and crazily were they fighting on the arena?

The dizzying, blurry sensation mingled with a burning heat as if a magical fire were scorching every inch of flesh and skin had become a part of his daily routine since forming the team. Jeremy gritted his teeth, not hesitating to take out a pain-relieving pharmaceutical vial and draining it into his mouth. The bitter, astringent taste lingering on the tip of his tongue dispelled the dizziness.

He inadvertently felt incredibly fortunate that his draw fell into the first half, rather than stepping onto the arena at the same time as this group of monsters. The empathetic connection from the temporary contract, aside from keeping these delinquents from turning around and beating each other up midway, truly brought absolutely not a single ray of survival benefit for someone acting as captain like him.

Jeremy rubbed his temples hard, inwardly only silently praying for this hellish semester to end quickly.

Sleepiness vanished completely; Jeremy decisively sat up, pulling out the encyclopedic research manual on highly toxic herbs that the original owner hid deep inside the storage ring, attentively pondering over it all.

About half an hour passed, the magic screen lit up again with a new notification streak from Lucius.

[Captain, guess if I won or lost this time?]

Jeremy didn’t even bother to blink, immediately typing a response: [Lost miserably.]

Crybaby sent back a highly sarcastic sneering emoji: [Ha.]

The bland conversation officially ended there. But in reality, right from the second the message arrived, Jeremy had firmly affirmed that that aristocratic dandy had won an overwhelming victory. Based on his understanding of Lucius’s twisted personality, if he had truly failed or suffered a disadvantage on the battlefield, that guy would absolutely silently find a way to exact murderous revenge in the shadows, rather than proactively texting and making a loud fuss to attract attention like this.

The clock hands pointed exactly at 1:32 PM.

Jeremy snapped the cover of the toxic plant dictionary shut. The entire massive volume of knowledge about thousands of lethal magical herbs had been completely memorized into his brain; even reciting it backward was not an issue.

Feeling the silent space somewhat boring, Jeremy decisively put the book away, sitting cross-legged neatly on the sofa to begin entering a cultivation state.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing slowly lengthening, guiding his intent to expand his soul sea. Currents of natural magic power carrying various elements in the air began to be sucked and swirled into his body like an endless vortex. Jeremy exerted his utmost effort to compress the energy, desperately wanting to borrow the momentum to break straight through to the Novice 6-star realm.

However, as hours ticked by, until the crimson sunset cast long shadows through the window frame, the magic power condensation process within his sea of consciousness remained stubbornly stuck in a bottleneck state. The accumulated energy was like waves crashing against a cliff, unable to create even a sliver of breakthrough progress.

Sure enough, the higher the star realm limit, the difficulty of breaking the barrier increased exponentially. Pure physical training was no longer enough to create a qualitative transformation.

It seemed that to break through this 6-star barrier, he absolutely had to seek a near-death explosive point on an actual battlefield...

Clearly recognizing the impossibility of forcibly achieving his goal in a short time, Jeremy was also extremely pragmatic; immediately withdrawing his intent, dissipating the surrounding magic flow, and opening his eyes to exit the meditative state.

He reached out to turn back on the light screen of his magic device.

On the miniature positioning map, all four bright dots named Evelyn, Lucius, Leon, and Phoenix had fully gathered at the dormitory floor a long time ago.

In the general chat group interface, four concise report lines they sent to the guiding instructor were consecutively displayed. The content roughly announced that all team members had successfully secured absolute victories in the first elimination round.

As for Griffin - that instructor with the bizarre jellyfish hair - aside from ruthlessly throwing the students into the secret realm on the morning of the first day to disseminate the rules, since then he had completely not interfered with anything else regarding their cultivation methods. Even upon receiving the report of total victory, he had not sent back a single character of response to the group.

Just like the cruel philosophy he had once pronounced: How you struggle during the process is completely unimportant; the only thing I need to see is your survival and the final victory result.

Jeremy lazily sprawled out on the long sofa, his hands clasped behind his neck, his still phoenix eyes looking up at the marble ceiling.

The first competition round could be considered passed smoothly without expending too much effort. It was just... he wondered if moving on to the second competition round, the matrix system’s pairing mechanism would be so cruel as to arrange for him to clash directly with his own team members...

When the number of freshmen remaining after the elimination round dropped by half, the probability of this internal battle occurring was entirely a figure that could become reality.

However, the reality of the academy’s matrix proved there was no coincidence melodramatic to that extent.

When the official notification for the second round competition schedule was sent, the opponent’s identity appearing on the screen was not any familiar enemy or freakish teammate in his group. It was simply a completely unfamiliar student, who had never crossed paths or left any mark in the capital’s knowledge.

[Round 2 Opponent: Spirit Covenant number 222 - Novice Realm, 5 stars.]