It was overwhelming.
Already irritated, Herace found Luke’s frantic energy grating.
At least he’d gotten some good sleep; otherwise, he might have snapped and said something he shouldn’t.
“Shut up. Be quiet.”
“What the hell, you want me to stay quiet when I might die?”
“Do you want to die right now?”
“This bastard! I save your life, and you repay me with threats?”
Ignoring Luke’s colorful language, Herace began brainstorming.
For a noble, Luke had a remarkably sharp tongue.
‘I need to stay in character as a villain while working with him.’
At least Luke still seemed to see him as the bad guy, judging by his outburst.
Luke’s foolishness and abrasive personality were a relief in their own way.
As plans formed and fell apart in Herace’s mind, he finally settled on a course of action.
“You overstepped and took a skill far beyond your means!”
Though his tone was theatrical, it wasn’t entirely devoid of personal grievance.
“Why are you getting angry?”
“Because it’s infuriating! You don’t even realize how precious it is!”
Herace’s violet magic flared.
The intense aura made Luke stumble backward in alarm.
Sparks crackled nearby, and a whip-like flame lashed out toward Luke.
“Are you insane?”
“That skill should’ve been mine!”
Luke dodged frantically, but the oppressive atmosphere lingered.
His confusion deepened as Herace’s abrupt aggression left him bewildered.
The purple flames surged violently before subsiding.
Herace, feigning calm, shook his head.
“His orders mean I can’t kill you…”
Grinding his teeth, Herace felt the weight of his predicament.
Meanwhile, Luke, thoroughly duped by the act, looked utterly lost.
“What is this? It’s all gibberish to me!”
“Idiot. As if being clueless wasn’t bad enough, you’ve got a good intuition to boot.”
Luke bristled at the sarcasm.
“It’s not that I’m stupid; it’s that you’re spouting nonsense no one can understand! Why can’t you speak properly?”
“Do I need to dumb it down for you?”
Herace scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“It’s a scam skill that lets you grow endlessly stronger! And curing your mana insensitivity? That’s nothing compared to—”
He abruptly clamped his hand over his mouth, realizing he’d said too much.
What he’d let slip was merely one of the pieces of information provided by his status window, displayed in his native language.
“What?”
But even that small hint was enough to make Luke’s eyes blaze with intensity.
“You can cure it? You can actually cure it?”
The words were sweet nectar to his ears.
Luke, treated as an outcast in his own household, had prayed every night for a miracle—some cure, a medicine, anything to rid him of his mana insensitivity.
He’d begged for his condition to improve, for someone to save him in a stroke of divine intervention.
Countless swindlers had flocked to him, eager to exploit the eldest son of the Earl who scoured the land for a remedy.
And yet, despite knowing better, Luke couldn’t ignore their flowery lies, holding on to the faintest glimmer of hope.
Such was the depth of his desperation—enough to let himself believe in empty promises, even at the cost of being scolded by his father for squandering the family’s wealth on fruitless pursuits.
But Herace’s voice carried no deception. It was genuine.
A real solution existed.
He could finally escape the mockery of his family and stop being the object of their disdain.
“How? How do you do it?”
Luke lunged forward, gripping Herace’s shoulders with a force that left them stinging.
“And why should I tell you? It’s beyond your station! It should’ve been mine to have—!”
“You said you can’t kill me!”
The shout tore from Luke’s throat like a scream, his veins straining against his neck, his azure eyes blazing with ferocity.
His muscles, taut with power, bulged as raw desire surged from within him, impossible to suppress.
“I saved your life! I helped you! You ungrateful bastard!”
“When did I ask for your help—?”
“So help me, damn it!”
Though his voice was raised in fury, it was laced with undeniable desperation.
The sheer force of emotion pouring from Luke left Herace momentarily stunned.
Herace had already read Luke’s life through text, understood the torment he’d suffered due to his mana insensitivity.
But seeing him now, throwing himself forward with nothing but hope, made Herace’s heart race.
How long had it been since he felt someone’s emotions this vividly?
Not through a screen or mere words on a page, but right in front of him?
Thud. Thud.
The sound of his own heartbeat roared in his ears.
Herace found himself captivated by the unfamiliar sensation, rooted to the spot.
“Hey! Why aren’t you saying anything!”
Luke, unable to wait for an answer, grabbed Herace’s shoulders again, shaking him.
“You said it yourself! That it could be cured!”
A tidal wave churned in Luke’s piercing blue eyes.
“If you’re lying, I’ll make sure you die the most excruciating death imaginable!”
The ferocity of Luke’s threat snapped Herace out of his daze.
But being too quick to agree wouldn’t suit his role as the villain, so he turned his head away without replying.
Luke clenched his fists.
‘Why won’t he tell me?’
Luke’s thoughts were painfully transparent.
‘Because I’m weak. Because I’m nothing, not worth his time.’
Herace could read Luke’s mind as if the thoughts were written in bold letters.
He was biding his time, deciding when to begrudgingly offer his help.
“…”
Luke muttered something under his breath, too quietly for Herace to catch.
“Sorry, what?”
No response came. Instead, Luke’s head drooped. Even his spiky gray hair seemed to sag in defeat.
“…Please.”
The word escaped in a small, trembling voice, stripped of all the anger that had been his shield.
Only Luke’s raw sincerity remained.
Herace realized his mouth had gone dry.
He had been momentarily overwhelmed by Luke’s emotions.
Truly, Luke had the power of a protagonist.
“I’ll help you.”
The words came out of Herace’s parched lips.
Slowly, Luke lifted his head, his eyes red at the corners.
“I’ll help you, but in return, once I cure your mana insensitivity, that skill is mine.”
“…Why should I give it to you?”
Though his voice was sullen, his attitude was as brash as ever.
Luke shook off Herace’s shoulders as if brushing away something filthy.
“And how does it work? I earned that skill by killing that beast. Does that mean I have to die to transfer it? No way!”
Despite his desperation moments ago, he was reluctant to part with something so valuable.
Herace could see through him.
Even if he agreed, Luke planned to find a way to keep the skill for himself.
“That’s for me to figure out. Don’t want to? Fine, forget it.”
Herace waved his hand dismissively.
“No human could figure this out anyway.”
“Why not?”
“The only reason I can see it is because the magic stone imprinted on both of us during that fight.”
Herace’s explanation was unusually detailed for a villain.
He wanted Luke to internalize this “truth.”
Even though Luke had protected Herace and gotten hurt in the process, the magic stone had absorbed both of their blood and registered them together—or so Herace claimed.
Luke tilted his head, doubtful, but Herace forged ahead.
Convincing Luke wasn’t necessary; it just needed to seem like an official narrative.
“So the skill appears in the language of the beast. Without me, there’s no one who could interpret it.”
Luke groaned in frustration.
“Giving away something that could make me infinitely stronger…!”
The regret was clear on his face.
Herace understood perfectly.
If he had gained such a skill as a child, he wouldn’t have let it go either.
“Fine! I’ll give it to you!”
Luke’s reluctant agreement came with a venomous glare.
“You ungrateful, greedy bastard.”
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