As he slowly drank the refreshing tea, his tongue was flooded with flavor, and his mind grew serene, calm, and peaceful.

    Zarek had to admit, tea really did calm you down, while coffee was better for an instant boost of productivity.

    Luckily, in this world, both coffee and tea existed, though under different names, but he preferred to think of them that way.

    Still, his thoughts kept returning to the skill that was stuck, unable to be leveled up through normal means.

    His mind drifted back to the time he adapted to those waves of Level Nine Valkyries and stood his ground.

    At that moment, he still remembered how his body and mind had adapted to the Telekinesis.

    "The soul," Zarek murmured.

    His body and mind might have adapted and he had gained the strange power of the human bloodline in this world but his soul was still missing.

    This realization came directly from the description of his Adapt skill.

    Then another question surfaced:

    "How do I make my soul adapt to it?"

    The soul was illusionary, ethereal and untouchable. How could something like that adapt?

    "My only hope is the Telekinetic Serum in Drayken’s hands."

    Either way, he had to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

    He put down his third glass of tea just as a maid quietly extended the tea set to pour him more.

    Zarek was about to take the tea when footsteps approached outside the room.

    Melissa entered.

    "Is it done?" Zarek asked.

    "Yeah. As long as you take down one of our enemy’s bases, you’ll earn the general title," Melissa explained. "But that place is guarded by ten Level Nine Telekinetic Users. Are you sure you can handle it?"

    "Didn’t you see me take down all your Wardens?" Zarek shrugged confidently.

    "The Wardens didn’t have any major weapons," Melissa said. "Their only strength was raw Telekinesis. Of course, you could beat them all with your hammer made purely of Liutinium. But the soldiers guarding that base are war veterans, armed with powerful weapons forged from Liutinium. Are you sure you can take them on?"

    "Yeah." Zarek flexed his neck, a grin spreading across his face. "Just show me the way."

    "Okay."

    ***

    The sun beat down on a deserted, parched battlefield.

    A lingering scent of blood hung in the air, and dried crimson stains clung stubbornly to the cracked earth.

    Countless broken swords and shattered weapons, the remnants of the brave, lay scattered and ruined.

    This was the battlefield between the Ragnarok Empire and the Rienhart Empire.

    The two mighty empires had clashed countless times over a bitter border dispute. Nearly equal in strength, neither side had ever dared to retreat, and their war had dragged on for centuries.

    With every passing year, the conflict only escalated.

    Though the battlefield lay silent now, it was the calm before the storm.

    At that moment, two figures gradually appeared atop the walls of Suncity, silently gazing out at the wasteland below.

    "This is the place, soldier," the man said, pointing ahead. "We’ve got intel that if you destroy that base over there, we can gain a stronger foothold."

    He indicated a small dot far off in the distance.

    "Alright," Zarek replied, then asked, "I have a question, why doesn’t the base have any Telekinetic Masters guarding it?"

    "You haven’t been told?" the man asked, confusion flashing in his eyes.

    Zarek silently shook his head.

    "It’s because there’s currently an agreement that no Telekinetic Master or above can intervene—to minimize losses on both sides," the man explained with utmost seriousness. His cape fluttered in the wind, and medals dangled from his chestplate, one bearing the nameplate General Gerald.

    "But judging by the situation, that agreement might not hold for much longer."

    "You have to be careful, soldier. I’ve seen many like you try and fail. Are you sure you’ll be alright?"

    "Yeah." Zarek nodded, his golden hair rustling in the breeze as his eyes fixed silently on the distant dot.

    "Will you be striking at night?" General Gerald asked, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in his voice.

    "No," Zarek said. "I don’t want to waste time. Is that all the information?"

    "Yes—" General Gerald began, but his voice froze as the ground beneath them started to crack.

    Zarek crouched slightly; even the weight of his powerful legs caused the ground to tremble.

    Then, in one swift motion, he leapt into the air and soared down onto the battlefield below, landing with astonishing ease.

    "Madman," General Gerald muttered, eyes fixed on the back of the youth with long golden hair and a hammer strapped to his back. Horror flickered across his face.

    "I doubted the Princess of Carnage, but he… he might really be able to kill them all."

    Zarek swiftly crossed the barren battlefield, heading toward the distant dot.

    His pace was relentless, his figure a mere blur as the dot grew larger and clearer ahead.

    He could faintly make out the shape of camps now.

    ’I should be ruthless, right?’ he thought.

    The weight of his hammer pressed heavily against his back, sending pressure through his body.

    Sweat trickled down his forehead.

    Yet with every step, every breath, his body recovered and grew stronger.

    ’This skill is really broken. I need to level it up, if I have enough Destiny points,’ he mused silently.

    Finally, he arrived at the camp.

    Zarek leapt into the air, his hammer gripped tightly in both hands.

    With a roar, he hurled it down.

    BOOM!

    The ground exploded beneath the impact, the shockwave rippling outward like an earthquake. sea??h thё n??el Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Inside the camp, guards staggered, startled by the sudden tremor. Chaos erupted as they scrambled for their weapons.

    But when their eyes landed on the long, golden-haired youth standing amidst the dust, they hesitated, relief flashing across their faces.

    No Telekinetic Master could enter the battlefield, even if the brat was a Level Nine, there was no need to fear.

    "He’s just one man!"

    "Attack!"

    Dozens of soldiers raised their weapons, battle cries echoing through the camp as they charged toward him.