After some reflection, Priam decided to discard [Kinetic Motion]. Using kinetic energy to boost or slow his movements was a brilliant idea, he didn't want to dilute the essence of [Art of Movement]. At its core, that skill was meant to refine his motion. Placing his feet just right, angling his hips correctly, mastering muscular control… All part of the pursuit of motion perfected.

His kinetic proficiency could still assist passively, but Priam felt strongly that [Art of Movement] needed to stay pure. Once I get it to Legendary, I'll revisit the idea. Until then, [Kinetic Sovereignty] would continue to support his mobility skill in an active way.

With his decision made, Priam followed Rohan to a deserted athletics field. According to his add-on, twilight had just fallen—likely the reason the tracks were empty.

That, or the banquet music echoing in the distance.

"Fun fact: Balance is the easiest prerequisite for an Aelbe to unlock."

"Because, what, cats always land on their feet?"

"Nope. It's because we have a tail to stabilize us." Rohan waited for the inevitable dirty joke, but Priam was above that sort of thing. The young lord continued. "Second place is Speed. Pretty straightforward—you just need a solid sprint to unlock it."

"That's it? I'm pretty sure I've already broken the sound barrier while running before."

Rohan shook his head. "With the help of your kinetic skill, right? That falls under the kinetic prerequisite. To unlock Speed—or any prerequisite, really—you can't rely on another active skill."

"What about Micro?"

"Supremacies are fair game. Concepts, not so much. If you use explosions to launch yourself, that might count as a different prerequisite, not for Speed."

"So I just… run? There's no trick?"

"Try to stay grounded. This track's special—it's been enchanted to give ground grip—but if you jump, you'll take off." Rohan pondered for a bit before smiling. "Best way is to just give it a shot."

"I guess."

Priam stepped up to the starting line. He planted his right foot against a designated wedge and tightened his muscles with the help of Micro.

"Kazuki, give me the countdown, please."

The hoplite nodded. "Three… two… one… go!"

Priam pushed off and surged forward. His acceleration was brutal, and within seconds, each of his strides devoured twenty meters. A slight curve in the track forced him to lean hard on his outer ankle, but his robust constitution absorbed the strain without complaint. Ten seconds in, he hit the final straightaway. Overclocking his muscles, pushed even harder, still keeping his angle just right to hug the track.

Tearing across the finish line, Priam needed nearly a hundred meters to come to a stop. Were it not for his [Pyro Champion Physique], the abrupt stop would have seared the bottoms of his feet.

As he jogged back, Priam noticed he was smiling. There was something cathartic about unleashing the hidden power nestled in his body.

"Well?"

Rohan pursed his lips. "I know someone who spent a year trying to unlock that prerequisite. Improved a bit every day. Worked with a coach. You…" He sighed. "You're right on the edge."

"How close?" Priam asked. His add-on had clocked him at a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour—an impossible speed on mundane terrain. On unenchanted ground, he would have lost traction and taken flight. Without the Aelbe's magic track, the prerequisite might have eluded him.

"It depends on your weight, your height, your anatomy, your attributes… The System wants technique, not just some brute force freak with infinite power who can leap far. Still, I'd say that if you can push your speed by another ten percent, you'll tick the box."

"Mmh. Any tips?"

"Physically, you're set. The first strength milestone enhances your muscles, and the second boosts your proportion of fast-twitch fibers—which is exactly what you need here. You've got enough constitution to keep your bones from shattering in the turns, and your agility's sharp enough to keep up with your mind. By the way, you know the difference between dexterity and Micro, right?"

"The attribute's the hardware, the Supremacy the software. Together, they give me fine control over my body."

After explaining the tech analogy to Rohan, the Aelbe nodded. "Exactly. You've got Micro I, and at Tier 0, that's as good as it gets. Which means if you want to go further, you've gotta find another route. I see three options for you. One—uncap your muscle contraction speed. Doesn't matter how strong your fibers are, there's still a limit to how fast they can contract and release."

Priam nodded, picturing an engine metaphor. Even with unlimited horsepower, there was a hard limit on its revolutions per minute.

"Short of getting a new bloodline or upgrading my race, I don't see how I'd improve that," Priam admitted.

"Yeah, me neither. Second angle: air resistance. It's slowing you down more than you think."

Priam summoned a sheen of spectral scales across his skin and smiled as [Smooth Scales] activated. An upgrade of [Friction Resistance], the maxed skill would help him shed the atmosphere's clinging grasp.

Lvl Up: [Smooth Scales] lvl 40 AGI +3

"Don't show that to the Snaherts," Rohan warned. "They'll freak. Dragon scales are on a whole other level than a snake's... Anyway, the final point: running technique. While accelerating, keep your strides short and rapid, torso leaning forward. Once you're at max speed, stretch out your gait, but don't jump. Keep your posture mostly upright, slightly lean. Never land on the heel, and each push-off should be powerful, but grippy. Like you're clawing at the earth. Lift your knees properly. Oh, and relax your shoulders. You're not trying to smash down a door at the finish line. Questions?"

"None," Priam said. Thanks to his eidetic memory, high vivacity, and natural intelligence, he absorbed the advice instantly. "This time, it's in the bag."

Much to Rohan's dismay, it was.

Most of the assassins Jasmine had grown up with preferred working at night. Partly because low light made it easier to slip in where they weren't welcome. But also because nighttime brought out the worst in people. The seven deadly sins festered in minds that refused to sleep. Away from the sun's gaze, the student was ready to drown in liquor, the mother would blow her child's allowance on gambling, and the husband would cheat on his wife with the ugliest whore in town.

If the Shadow Guild had use for those vices, they were just a welcome bonus. What truly interested assassins was fear.

Darkness turned the familiar into the unknown, and the unknown poisoned the imagination. A woman quickened her step, convinced a predator was tailing her. A teenager crossed paths with a rowdy group and prayed they wouldn't speak to him. Some poor soul stumbled across a corpse and turned right around, never even thinking to look for the killer.

At night, when everything else was expensive, violence came free.

Before she met Priam, Jasmine loved the night. By stoking fear in others, she believed she had conquered her own. No psychologist was needed to see how flawed that logic was.

The Juggernaut had tamed the assassin. His presence blazed with solar confidence, and Jasmine had chased his brilliance like a moth to flame. Without even realizing it, she had left her fear behind.

Now that she had a taste for life, Jasmine loved the day. Which made the Necromoon's eternal presence a nuisance. Even its shadows seemed shallower.

Hence, this very night, the killer's deed would be performed in a mundane fashion.

Stepping out from a dark alley, she entered the Aelbe's affluent district. Two streets later, dodging a few grabby hands along the way, she spotted her target's home: a wood-built, two-story house with glass windows—a far cry from the rope-and-canvas shanties favored by the clan's poor.

"Halt."

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine thrust a tray of food under the nose of the guard posted at the gate. "This is for Gahel and his family. He needs his strength for tomorrow's fight."

Also known as White Fangs, the Aelbe would be facing Priam in the Tier 2 semifinals shortly after noon. Or so it should have been, were it not for Jasmine's interest.

The guard narrowed his eyes. "Maybe. But I don't know you. And Lavanl was supposed to bring the food. She wouldn't miss a chance to cozy up to Gahel."

While Jasmine shrugged, her mind raced. From the guard's spiritual pressure, he was a Tier 3, and at that level, even a pure warrior had an excellent memory. Despite going heavy on the makeup, she wasn't sure it would be enough to fool someone trained to remember faces—especially if the idiot kept staring at her eyes instead of her cleavage. Is he gay or what?!

"Lavanl's busy cleaning up the Snaherts' mess," she said, taking a dramatic breath. Her blouse strained dangerously, which finally drew the male's attention. "There was a fight. You know how it is."

Lvl Up: [Drop-dead Gorgeous] lvl 9 CHAR +9

The guard burst out laughing, defeated by her beauty privilege. "Yeah, I know," he said, ogling her breasts. "Alright, go on in."

Balancing the tray above her head, the young woman stepped into the manor grounds, her hips swaying with feline grace. The guard might be able to report her measurements to his commander, but he would not sketch her photofit picture.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

As she crossed the threshold of the house, Jasmine caught the perfume of another woman and discreetly buttoned up her shirt. No lady of the house likes a gorgeous stranger flaunting her assets under her roof.

She found the kitchen by scent, carefully ignoring the three pairs of eyes watching her from one-way mirrors and hollowed-out paintings. The Tier 3 guard at the entrance had been just a deterrent. The real bodyguards were hidden.

Brushing aside a few leeks that cluttered the kitchen table, Jasmine made room to set down the meal tray. The sound must have caught someone's attention, because a nearby door swung open.

"Ah, finally!"

"Sorry for the delay," Jasmine replied, lifting her gaze to meet the eyes of an elderly woman with storm-grey irises. The matron barely spared her a glance, far more interested in the food.

"Mmh. No pheasant?" She rummaged through the tray with obvious irritation. "I specifically asked for pheasant!"

Jasmine peered down at the cuts of meat, then pointed to a wing. "That's not pheasant?"

"That's duck, you halfwit! And it's overcooked, to boot."

"Oh."

"Don't 'oh' me. Take this tray back and fetch me some—"

"That's enough, Grandma," interrupted a confident voice.

Jasmine turned to see a Tier 2 stepping into the room, flashing a charismatic smile. His canines betrayed his identity: he was White Fangs, her target.

The warrior didn't look a day over twenty, but her instincts screamed that this man was far more dangerous than the Tier 3 posted outside. The Aelbe clan hadn't sent just anyone to represent them in the tournament. Not as talented as Rohan, but still a Tier 2 elite… I'd still bet on Priam.

The assassin gave a formal bow. "Warrior Gahel, I bring you a meal." As she rose, Jasmine averted her eyes and activated Micro, dilating the arteries in her cheeks. A second later, a delicate blush bloomed across her face. In her experience, men liked shy servant girls. "B-Best of luck tomorrow."

Lvl Up: [Shy Beauty] lvl 7 CHAR +3

The Aelbe warrior let out a chuckle. "Thanks."

"My grandson doesn't need luck. He's going to wipe the floor with that Priam," the old woman huffed.

Jasmine couldn't help but wince at the ridiculous claim. Gahel must have noticed, because he reached out and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.

"You saw our young master's challenge today and are worried."

Jasmine nodded. When your enemy offers you camouflage, you would be a fool to refuse to wear it.

"Don't worry. Sure, Rohan's more gifted than I am, but he's still just a Tier 0. Our last duel was last week… I beat him without breaking a sweat." He winked, puffing out his chest as though defeating a Tier 0 were some grand feat. "If you stay for dinner, I could regale you with that tale."

Back on Arkana, Jasmine would have accepted—if only to avoid suspicion and make sure the idiot consumed every drop of poison she had laced the meat with.

"I'd love to," she sighed, putting on a disappointed face, "but I've still got work to do."

She wasn't the old Jasmine anymore. A new world, a new body, new allies, and new dreams… She had changed. Her body might still be her weapon, but her newfound pride wouldn't allow just any male to touch her.

Except Priam. He can take a bite whenever he wants.

Gahel's smile was starting to fade when Jasmine added, "But… if you're still awake in an hour, maybe I could come back? I'm sure you'll be done eating by then… but we could do something else."

The innuendo was so barely veiled that the old woman harrumphed. However, subtlety was wasted on men like Gahel—the hint had to be clear enough for the moron to take it.

Jasmine nearly laughed at the triumphant gleam in his eyes. With a handsome face like that, he probably thought himself irresistible. So instead of staying cautious on the eve of an important duel, he would gorge himself on food brought by a bashful servant girl. Why seek for truth when lies taste sweeter?

"In an hour then. For dessert," Gahel said with a wink.

Jasmine had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the clumsy flirtation. Instead, she giggled like a fool, gave a coy bow that let her blouse gape open just enough, and strolled toward the exit.

"Duck." The old woman was grumbling behind her. "I hate duck."

Which was exactly why Jasmine had laced it with poison. Collateral damage was a known risk in these kinds of missions, but Priam didn't like civilian casualties. Hence, his Shadow had done the legwork to ensure a surgical strike.

Besides, Jasmine had her own professional reasons for wanting Gahel to be the only one poisoned. The substance was as brutal as it was dramatic. Indeed, the scorpion venom Priam had given her would ignite the victim's blood like wildfire. If Granny lit up like a torch, her darling grandson might hesitate before finishing his dinner.

Death by spontaneous combustion… It would look like a direct echo of the Gu Trial incident—and that was intentional. Jasmine's goal was to deepen the rift between the clans by pinning the murder on the Snaherts. Of course, the Aelbes weren't fools and would be suspicious. But once they analyzed the trail, they'd find traces of Ophis' blood in the poison—to spice it. Blood Jasmine had scraped from a severed arm, harvested during Back in Time.

From there, with less than a day to respond, the Aelbe leader would have no choice but to retaliate. His clan's honor, and his people's outrage, would demand it. Léo would attack Ophis and either kill him or at least weaken him enough for the Shadow to finish the job.

It was a perfect plan. Thinking it through, Jasmine began to hum, proud of herself. After the embarrassment of her loss to Rohan, she needed to prove herself to Priam. He had entrusted her with the assassination of a Tier 4, and the Shadow intended to deliver.

Shame Gahel's death will rob Priam of a worthy opponent tomorrow. I really wanted to see those muscles glistening under the arena's sun…

Lost in her fantasies, Jasmine left the estate. She hadn't taken more than thirty steps past the manor gate when she spotted another young woman approaching, tray of food in hand.

"Excuse me," Jasmine said, stepping into the girl's path.

"Yes?"

"Who's that for?"

"Champion Gahel. He's got a match tomorrow—he needs to keep his strength up!"

Jasmine blinked. She knew the servant who was supposed to deliver that tray, as she had locked her in a cellar not twenty minutes ago. That wasn't the one.

Either they sent another idiot to warm his bed—or she's an assassin.

Glancing down, Jasmine noted the split skirt that fell to the ankles while still allowing full range of motion. A real ingénue would have worn far less cloth. I bet the girl has a whole arsenal of blades strapped to her thighs.

"Let's take the alley out back. Fewer witnesses."

The servant blinked, then veered toward the alley. Jasmine followed.

A minute later, she emerged alone, having taken full advantage of her opponent's flexibility to fold her corpse into a garbage bin.

"I poisoned poor Gahel, then saved him from the same fate," she mused as she vanished into the crowd, making her way back to her friends. "I wonder if that balances my karma."

Status:

PHYSICAL: Strength 1 249 Constitution 2 083 Agility 1 637 Vitality 2 092 Perception 988

MENTAL: Vivacity (D) 666 Dexterity 891 Memory 1 152 Willpower 1 298 Charisma 990

META: Meta-affinity (O) 1 398 Meta-focus 886 Meta-endurance 1 584 Meta-perception 842 Meta-chance 1 089 Meta-authority 768

Potential: 34 005 Tier 0

Concepts:

Breath (T0): 100% / Symphony (Harmony before timeskip)

Fire (T0): 100% / Unity

Pyro (T1): 100% / Unity

Mist (T1): 100% / Symphony

Bloodlines:

Phoenix: 6%

Dragon: 3%

Tempering - Fundamental Stage - Heavenly Dragon (Seraph rarity):

Order Gate (Brain)

Soul Gate (Right eye)

Inventory:

Primo Dinosaur Fossil - Earth

Hearthstone

Tempering Trophy (7th Terror)

Memory of a Fae

Colosseum VIP Token

2 die 4 (Priam's boxers)

Trophy Compass

̶S̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶S̶h̶a̶r̶d̶ ̶(̶[̶I̶d̶e̶n̶t̶i̶f̶i̶c̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶]̶ ̶v̶a̶r̶i̶a̶n̶t̶)̶ ̶x̶4̶ (used during timeskip)

Heart of a Draconic Necro Chimera

Rewards standing:

̶F̶u̶s̶i̶o̶n̶ ̶T̶o̶k̶e̶n̶ ̶-̶ ̶S̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶(̶E̶p̶i̶c̶)̶ (used during timeskip)

Affinity Token - Tier 1 (30%)

Talent Token - Upgrade (Seraph)

Revelation Token - Ideal Prerequisites (Epic) x1 (1 used during timeskip)

̶M̶i̶n̶o̶r̶ ̶s̶k̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶E̶p̶i̶p̶h̶a̶n̶y̶

(used during timeskip)

Seed of Potential x1 (2 used during timeskip)

Experience Phantom Advisor - Skill (Epic - 1 hour)

Experience Phantom Advisor - Supremacy (Tier I - 1 hour)

[Tribulation]: Three Tribulations pending. Future Tribulations delayed until: Time: 2 months 11 days 19 hours 14 minutes 46 seconds.

Next thresholds: 12 attributes > 900 / 3 attributes > 1 800 / 1 attribute > 2 100

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