Hell Difficulty Tutorial Chapter 794 - New trait

‘It’s straightforward. I’ll choose the blood,’ I declare.

Elian displays no response, yet he signals for me to proceed.

‘Among all the traits, I believe it pairs perfectly with my existing ones, ensuring smooth synergy. The blood courses throughout my entire body, including veins in my eyes and brain. Even if it’s not the top choice, it ranks as the second finest. Considering the strong likelihood it’ll enhance my other traits, the exchange is totally worthwhile.’

He appears let down briefly. Evidently, he hoped I’d select the parasite, forcing me to battle an invader for my mana, or the stomach to mimic Biscuit. Still, I truly craved devouring the Sword of Aeons.

‘That’s right,’ Elian admits reluctantly, torn between his teaching instincts and mad scientist tendencies. ‘Empyrean Ichor will transform your blood into a treasure many would bid fortunes for. It’ll conduct mana better than most specialized paints. I’d have favored Mana-Absorbent Gastric Lining, but Empyrean Ichor intrigues me too. One disciple experiments with a potion mimicking mana restoration via ingestion. Quite the novel idea.’

‘O-okay.’

Elian remains unfazed. ‘As noted in the description, the steady stream of mana-laden blood generates an internal field bolstering your innate barrier. That blood also permeates your Physique and streams through your eyes. It’d be foolish to assume no impact. Expect extra boosts, compelled evolutions, and more possibilities. Tell me, did you devise this for optimal harmony?’

‘Not exactly. The eyes and physique were mostly luck, though I pushed them to max power. Pre-level 400, I chased every achievement for prime trait options. The System claims rewards match past feats, so I nudged it and crossed fingers. I picked up tips from that trait grandpa—forgot his name—from the Academy floor. Without his insights, I’d probably have gone for the Halo.’

‘You mean Hywel the Tyrant.’

‘Yeah, him.’

‘That explains it. Fine, go ahead with your pick. I’ll remain to monitor and aid if agony overwhelms you, given your weak Constitution and this trait’s potential might.’

I might imitate some effects partially, but nothing rivals a maxed, evolved trait. I crave them all. My avarice clashes endlessly with the hubris that I can achieve bits myself.

Before locking in, I glance at Elian watching intently. I ponder his trustworthiness. Then, I choose Empyrean Ichor and shut my eyes.

The next 24 hours blur into chaos as I huddle forward, elbows on knees, hands clamped over eyes. Every fiber screams like red-hot razor wire dragged through me. My blood ignites, flames racing veins as torment surges.

It’s bearable, almost routine after the tournament’s body overhaul hell.

Eyes sealed, I track my body’s transformations. Lily might discern finer details, but I glean useful info. I tweak my Mana and Thermal Cycling too.

I ponder impacts on Lily’s healing mana, Sophie’s Thought Acceleration, or the twins’ telepathic bond. They’ll complicate, but at this trait’s current power, no big issue. Later, definitely.

For now, I’ll permit Lily’s mana or twins’ link passage. It’ll dilute the trait and demand focus, as anticipated.

Day two, pain dulls to a persistent burn. Brain and eyes throb like bursting, hearts pound ribs fiercely.

Occasionally, I hack up blood clots, body purging old stock for fresh. Soon, new blood flecks appear, obvious to my sight. Empyrean Ichor brims with mana, astonishing even me.

I’m not alone in noticing.

Magi Elian stirs. Raising my head, I see him fixated on the blood specks, eyes alight, glasses clutched.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Fleetingly, a smirk curls his lips before glasses return, face neutral again.

Day three, pain lingers as trait finalizes, but I’m at 90% capacity—no major hindrance.

Fascinated, I eye a droplet from my finger. Deep red, yet under proper light to attuned eyes, minuscule white-gold specks shimmer within. Eerily beautiful.

Visually, mana saturation screams. Far beyond prior levels, even Physique-boosted. Now, I question if vialed, it rivals overcharged mana stones as a source.

Unexpected alerts hover, ignored till now.

Due to the latest enhancements to your body, additional adjustments have been applied to your status to reflect your current state more accurately.

Preeminence Eyes 2/4 > Preeminence Eyes 2/5

Mana Physique 2/4 > Mana Physique 2/5

Insanity. Hoped for, never banked on it.

Pure, fucking insanity.

Empyrean Ichor boasts five upgrades too.

And inexplicably, this.

[Empyrean Lance - lvl 40 > Empyrean Lance - lvl 41]

[Empyrean Lance - lvl 41 > Empyrean Lance - lvl 42]

[Empyrean Lance - lvl 42 > Empyrean Lance - lvl 43]

...

[Empyrean Lance - lvl 48 > Empyrean Lance - lvl 49]

I’m speechless. Just accept it.

I face Elian. ‘Did I hold up my end?’

The Magi lifts from blood study, eyes meeting mine. He nods. ‘Beyond expectations. I thought I anticipated, but fooled myself. Even after years, arrogant assurance teaches—mostly justified.’

‘Can’t tell if self-deprecation or boast.’

He brushes it off. Mana cube materializes over palm as he speaks. ‘For your lesson, I’ve decided. Full training needs months we lack. Here’s a custom aid instead.’

Cube warps, elongates. Dizziness hits till Elian erects barrier curbing Preeminence Eye overload.

‘Feeling it? Trait amplified eyes sans evolution. Recent upgrade too, so this overwhelms now. Adjusted wavelengths to spare you.’

Cube morphs to round glasses like his—slim silver frame, clear lenses.

Handed over, they seem plain glass-metal; no System item tag—pure mana craft via illusion or mimicry.

No shift wearing them.

‘Filters data, counters backlash. Infuse mana to activate my training regimen. Everwood goes to your handler per agreement. So, did I deliver?’

His tone alerts me. Focus snaps to him, glasses forgotten.

‘Yes,’ I reply cautiously.

‘Good. I’m direct: I’ll study your Empyrean Ichor more. Too captivating, vast potential. Underestimated in your Mana Physique, let alone low-Constitution mana-drenched frame.’

‘What if I refuse?’ I counter, recalling Kyralon’s tale of Magi kidnapping for Parallax Eyes.

Elian rises, adjusts suit. ‘No choice. Beyond quest lasts week; I’ll sever Tutorial links. System fights back, but I delay a week or two. Normally, I’d offer post-Tutorial study or gentler paths. But your body screams short lifespan or reckless doom. Can’t waste such specimen—’

Quake rocks everything.

Elian acts swift. Glasses off, hand raised—golden dome shields our base.

Asteroids from prior belt slam silently. Many dwarf base, insane velocity, yet barrier holds firm, rocks shatter.

Elian’s poise vanishes for feral precision. Palm slices, rips mile-wide gash in space void. Scream pierces vacuum—jagged white force-wound, light outshining nearby star.

Sun dims momentarily. Rift implodes to screaming white orb above palm.

In star’s gloom, one figure floats. Tiny against cosmic giant, yet dominates—flares cower, star mere candle.

‘Elian, dare steal mine?’ Voice echoes omnipresent, soft, audible, menacing.

‘Lady Greed, stay out,’ Magi retorts likewise.