Second Choice Noble Son: Apparently I’m Stronger Than the Summoned Heroes Chapter 92 : When the Water Spoke

(Rooga POV)

The morning was quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes even the wind hesitate.

Mist drifted through the forest like silver breath, curling around the roots of Maori’s great tree.

I sat by the pond where I’d first learned to use mana — the sa pond that once held only rot and gray water.

Now, it shimred blue. Clear enough to see the sky in it.

My reflection looked older than five years.

Maybe because, deep down, I didn’t feel like a child anymore.

I raised my hand.

Mana gathered naturally — smooth, weightless, as if it wanted to obey.

“Aqua Bloom.”

Dozens of orbs rose from my palm, each one pulsing softly.

They hovered around , humming like quiet heartbeats.

This had beco my routine — a calm start to every morning.

Until today.

Without warning, a pulse flashed across my vision.

A faint hum rippled through the air — light bending, temperature dropping by a few degrees.

The HUD appeared.

It wasn’t the usual pale-blue interface.

This one glowed golden-white, every letter alive with motion.

[Notice: Skill ‘Aqua Bloom’ has achieved Perfect Mastery.]

[Skill asurent terminated.]

[Would you like to review system annotation?]

I froze mid-breath.

Perfect Mastery?

There had never been a ssage like that before.

Slowly, I blinked the command to open.

Golden runes cascaded across the air, forming words that didn’t belong to human language.

I didn’t read them — I understood them.

Perfect Mastery: When a spell and its caster beco one.

No activation phrase required.

Mana cost reduced 99%.

Spell responds to emotion.

Skill data recording discontinued.

A chill ran down my spine.

The orbs of Aqua Bloom floating around began to pulse faster, mimicking the rhythm of my heartbeat.

I moved my hand slightly — the water followed, like a limb of my own.

No command, no mana focus.

It just moved.

There was no strain, no resistance.

Only understanding.

Before I could speak, the HUD pulsed again — this ti with a faint red tint.

[New Evolution Path Unlocked.]

[Aqua Bloom → ????]

[Designation: Final Bloom]

[System Note: This evolution requires Perfect Mastery.]

[Warning: Upon activation, this spell will consu all remaining mana from the caster.]

All… mana?

My breath hitched.

The words lingered longer than normal, almost like they wanted to make sure I’d understood.

Then the HUD dimd — the letters fading into pale mist until nothing remained.

The water orbs around lost their glow and gently drifted back into the pond.

The air grew still again, heavy with sothing unspoken.

I stared at my hands — they didn’t tremble, but my heart did.

Perfect Mastery.

A spell that no longer needed control.

And sothing beyond it… a path that warned of finality.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

What kind of spell would demand everything in return?

I looked toward Maori’s towering tree in the distance.

Her leaves shimred faintly, reacting to the mana surge.

She’d probably sensed it already.

And when she finds out, she’s going to yell at again.

Still… I couldn’t stop smiling a little.

I whispered to the fading ripples on the pond:

“Aqua Bloom… thank you for growing with .”

The water glowed once — faintly, like a heartbeat — then stilled.

The morning after the HUD ssage, I couldn’t sit still.

The words Perfect Mastery kept echoing in my head like a lody I couldn’t forget.

I had to tell soone.

And of course, there was only one person — or goddess — who’d understand.

So I went straight to Maori.

Maori was sprawled across her hammock again, her long erald-blue hair spilling over the side like a river of light.

Sunbeams filtered through her branches, painting her in gold and green.

She looked peaceful… for about five seconds.

“Maori.”

“Mmnhh… morning already?” she mumbled, rolling over. “You’re too energetic, caretaker. The sun’s barely stretching.”

“I want to show you sothing.”

“If it’s about chores, the answer’s no.”

Typical.

I sighed, crossed my arms, and said quietly:

“It’s about Aqua Bloom.”

That got her attention.

Her eyes snapped open — amber irises swirling faintly with fractal green.

“You an your little watering trick? What about it?”

I smiled and lifted my hand.

Mana gathered instantly.

No chant. No focus.

It just happened.

Hundreds of luminous orbs blood around , swirling upward like living petals of water.

They shimred in shades of blue and white, dancing with the breeze before fusing into larger streams that flowed toward Maori’s tree.

The entire grove began to hum.

The roots pulsed beneath my feet, the leaves glowed faintly — the whole forest responding to the flow of mana.

“Rooga…?”

Her voice softened, uncertain.

She had never felt this much before.

I didn’t stop.

The water kept coming, each Bloom feeding her roots, every orb bursting softly into light that soaked into the soil.

“You’re feeding too fast!” she yelped suddenly. “Slow down! I—I can’t—”

I blinked.

Then everything went wrong.

Maori clutched her stomach, eyes wide.

Her divine aura flared — shimring green veins tracing up her neck as her body trembled.

“Ugh—too much mana—too rich—too fast—”

And then she leaned over the edge of her hammock and threw up pure light.

It splashed across the grass in sparkles of liquid mana, hissing softly as it sank into the soil.

The air instantly filled with the scent of flowers and ozone.

I froze.

Even the birds stopped chirping.

“…Did you just—”

“DON’T. SAY. ANYTHING.” she gasped, glaring through watery eyes.

Her hair glowed, her face flushed bright pink, and her tree pulsed like it was laughing at her.

“You’re… glowing,” I said cautiously.

“I hate you.”

For a long minute, she just sat there breathing heavily, one hand on her chest.

Finally, she groaned and slumped forward, her expression sowhere between exhaustion and embarrassnt.

“You overfed ,” she muttered weakly.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know you could… get full.”

“I am a goddess of tree, Rooga, not a bottomless well! That much mana at once—” she hiccuped, “—even I can’t handle that!”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

It slipped out before I could stop it.

“It’s not funny!” she protested, cheeks puffed.

“You literally just threw up mana.”

“That’s sacred overflow!”

“You barfed rainbows, Maori.”

She glared at so hard I thought her hair might catch fire.

After a mont of sulking, she stood up — a little unsteady, face still glowing faintly from residual mana.

Then she looked at , her expression softening.

“Still… that was amazing,” she said quietly.

“You’ve changed, Rooga. Your Bloom feels different now. It’s… alive.”

I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly embarrassed.

“Guess I finally understood it.”

She smiled — that gentle, real smile she rarely showed anymore — and stepped toward with her arms out.

“Co here.”

“Wait, what are you—?”

I froze.

Her clothes still shimred faintly with mana residue… and, well, leftover “overflow.”

“You’re still—uh—covered in, um…”

“Don’t care. Co here, I want to hug you.”

“Maori, seriously—”

Too late.

She lunged forward.

I dodged.

Barely.

She stumbled, blinking, while I darted behind a tree.

“Rooga!”

“Take a bath first!”

“I swear on the roots beneath us—!”

The entire forest echoed with her frustrated shout and my laughter.

Eventually, she gave up chasing and collapsed back into her hammock, muttering curses about “ungrateful caretakers.”

But her tree still glowed brighter than ever, leaves whispering with new life.

And from the distance, I could still hear her voice, soft and warm, carried on the wind:

“Thank you… really.”

I smiled and looked up at the glowing canopy.

Even if she’d never admit it properly, I knew that was her way of saying it.