"Huh?"
Standing in the center of the room, Rendian felt a slight discomfort in his breathing, barely noticeable but enough to make him uneasy.
He chose to ignore it as he focused his attention ahead, where the Marquess, arms folded and leaning toward his desk, was studying him intently.
"Your son is receiving treatnt at the Northern hospital, correct?" Avendial inquired, his tone casual yet probing.
He noticed the subtle changes in Rendian, hoping that he might awaken the sa abilities he had demonstrated in a past life.
At the sa ti, he aid to reassure Rendian by asking about his son.
"Y-yes, he has been recovering for the past few months," Rendian stamred, taken aback by Avendial's awareness of his son's situation.
After all, Rendian had received an invitation to the Croceaus Territory a decade ago, seeking the best care for his son.
Initially serving as a special forces agent in City C, he was not a native of this place but had moved here with the singular purpose of providing his son with treatnt.
"With a promotion, he could access the central hospital," Avendial offered, employing a carrot-and-stick approach.
His suggestion hinted at the privileges associated with promotion, particularly regarding the elite dical care available at the central hospital—services typically reserved for the main family and high-ranking officials, showcasing only the most experienced doctors from other provinces.
Though all professionals chosen to serve in the Territory were highly skilled, there were always those who exhibited exceptional talent and were subsequently promoted.
The system in place was designed to foster a competitive environnt among various professions, particularly among doctors and scientists, encouraging upward mobility.
'!?'
"Th-thank you, Sir," Rendian breathed, feeling a sharp pang in his chest as his breathing beca increasingly labored, and his muscles began to tingle with numbness.
Despite this discomfort, the news about his son receiving treatnt at the central hospital filled him with profound gratitude, prompting him to bow deeply in appreciation.
When Rendian had first arrived in the territory, the doctor who had provided the most effective treatnt for his son was promoted to the central hospital, which was exclusively reserved for mbers of the main family or high-ranking officials.
Normal citizens had no access to this prestigious facility, regardless of their financial ans.
This predicant left Rendian with no choice but to continue seeking treatnt from other capable doctors.
While he recognized that every practitioner in the Territory was highly professional and that their treatnts were working, he couldn't shake the unease of knowing the first doctor had achieved slightly superior results.
Though the difference was minor, it was significant enough to fill him with guilt over not securing the best possible care for his son.
This drove him to work tirelessly, aspiring for a promotion to gain access to that particular doctor in the central hospital, who he believed could provide the level of care his son desperately needed.
"What the…," Aria uttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she stood frozen in shock. Until now, she had observed various status windows, including those of the others.
However, upon the arrival of this man, his stats appeared to resemble those of an ordinary human, more akin to a seasoned agent.
Yet, now, they were fluctuating wildly. All the numbers seed disarrayed.
The readings were changing rapidly; so had plumted to zero while others surged, as if her ability to analyze the stats was malfunctioning.
However, it was evident that the fluctuations were primarily affecting his physical stats, rather than his emotional condition, na, or age.
This suggested that sothing was happening within him after that injection he had taken.
Initially, she was taken aback when she witnessed how Avendial had extracted a vial containing his own blood.
At the ti, confusion clouded her mind, and she had attempted to intervene.
But as he beca engrossed in so docunts presented by the butler, she opted to remain silent, choosing instead to observe and comprehend the gravity of the situation unfolding before her.
Now, watching the stats of Rendian oscillate rapidly only deepened her confusion.
The numbers shifted erratically, further complicating her understanding.
Suddenly, Rendian coughed dryly, his hands clutching his chest, a subtle stumble indicating his weakened physical state. He was no stranger to pain, given the demands of his profession, yet now he felt a sharp, stinging sensation near his lungs, making each breath a struggle.
As he glanced at the Marquess, a fleeting doubt crossed his mind—had he been poisoned? Such a notion seed absurd, considering the man before him possessed the power to eliminate him with a re snap of his fingers.
It was hard to fathom that this individual would go to such lengths to summon him for dinner, only to serve him poison.
Rendian understood well that suspecting the Marquess was akin to questioning the motives of soone who could so easily crush him.
Thus, he dismissed the idea of poisoning; but if it wasn't that, then what was it? Why did he feel increasingly unwell after receiving that injection?
"You witnessed the strength of Rivia, didn't you?" Avendial remarked, his hands folded in front of him, his gaze icy and fixed on the man who was expected to possess formidable strength—if only their circumstances were favorable enough in the future.
He recognized that Rendian had made choices ant to secure his own well-being in what lay ahead.
Having already lost most of their assets and being targeted by both the Ravan family and the Royal family, the Croceaus family had descended to a level where they were no longer considered a significant force within the initial floors.
Although the Royal family did not openly pursue Avendial, being aware of his circumstances, they did nothing to alleviate the situation.
In fact, their actions only exacerbated it by starting to recruit awakened individuals from the Croceaus territory.
While many of these individuals remained loyal, there were others, like Rendian, who felt compelled to leave in order to protect their families.
Rendian was not alone in this decision; nurous others opted to depart to ensure their loved ones' safety.
This was why Rendian and those like him were not among the targets of Avendial's revenge; he understood their vulnerability and the choices they had to make.
"Y…es, cough!" Rendian managed to respond, his mind still reeling from the mory of that woman with purple hair—the one whose strength rivaled that of monsters and any beings he had ever encountered in his life.
She was formidable, and he recalled the image of her severing fingers with ease.
Though it was rely fingers she had severed, Rendian knew that even if it had been a head, it would hardly have made a difference to her.
"I bestow upon you the sa strength."
'!?!'
'Huh… wh-what?' Standing there, slightly dazed, Rendian suddenly heard that voice reverberating through the room.
It ca from the man who was looking at him with disdain, a gaze that seed to convey superiority.
The words he spoke painted an image in Rendian's mind of a god—a being standing atop all others, beyond reach.
Though the imagery was exaggerated and sowhat humorous, in that fleeting mont, it genuinely felt like he was standing before a supre entity.
Yet, he soon shook his head, dismissing the thought as a sign of ntal decline or perhaps a hallucination brought on by his current condition.
"I... d-don't understand," Rendian stamred, shaking his head in an attempt to regain his composure.
Despite not collapsing to his knees, thanks to his rigorous training and sheer willpower, the world around him seed to blur.
He struggled to accurately pinpoint the Marquess's location but still sought clarity in his inquiry.
"Rendian, you shouldn't have to resist sleep; just allow it to envelop you," Avendial advised, fully aware that each individual reacts differently to the process of awakening.
He could clearly see that Rendian was struggling against the pull of slumber, his body yearning for deep rest due to a temporary lack of oxygen reaching his brain.
Though this condition wouldn't cause any lasting harm, it was evident that Rendian fought against the encroaching drowsiness. Avendial encouraged him to surrender to sleep.
"Huh... y-yes—THUD!" Rendian, initially confused, processed Avendial's words but stumbled backward, breaking the last vestiges of his willpower. Following the Marquess's gentle command led him to weaken for just a mont, allowing sleep to seize him fully. In that instant, he fell back, landing on the floor as unconsciousness took over.
"You there, lift him up and place him on the couch," Avendial commanded the two servants, who had swiftly entered the room after the sound of the fall, to assist. Placing his hand upon the desk for emphasis, he directed them to lift the man sprawled on the floor. Seeing the unconscious Rendian, they nodded in acknowledgnt of their Marquess's orders and sprang into action, carefully placing him onto a nearby sofa.
"Hmm..." Avendial observed with arms folded as the servants positioned Rendian comfortably. He gestured for them to leave, prompting the two servants to bow before retreating gracefully from the room.
Avendial then shifted his attention to the woman present, noticing her gaze fixed intently on the sofa, which made it clear that Aria was likely monitoring Rendian's status through her own unique perspective, prompting him to add, "What do you see?"
'!'
"Eh? Wait, how did you et Awekni—n-no, how did you awaken his ability?!" Aria exclaid, her voice filled with confusion as she stared at the man who, until recently, had shown no signs of an awakened ability.
She had been engrossed in her reading when Avendial pulled her from her thoughts, causing her wide eyes to lock onto him in disbelief. She was montarily shocked at the realization that he had sohow fulfilled the awakening conditions.
But as she absorbed what had happened, it dawned on her that he hadn't t any of the typical requirents.
Instead, he had injected his own blood into that man, triggering the awakening.
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