CHAPTER 242: GRACE

Grace:

A timeless light born of mercy and sanctity, the quiet essence that mends, soothes, and makes whole again.

As Adyr quietly read the description, his mind slipped into thought. As always, the explanation wasn’t truly explanatory—too vague, too abstract. If he wanted to understand what the talent actually did, he’d have to register it and test it himself.

He didn’t overthink it. Spending 100 energy, he dropped his reserve to 1793 and gained 20 free stat points in return.

But the stat gain wasn’t the only thing that changed.

Something deeper stirred within him. Subtle, yet undeniable.

It reminded him of when he first claimed Malice—that time, he’d felt the presence of a chained monster inside him, something wild and furious, dark and hungry.

But now, there was something else beside it. A new presence. One not born of rage, but of calm. Not shadow, but light. Not wrathful, but merciful. He felt it settle in next to the monster, not in conflict, but in balance. Like two halves of the same symbol—black and white, chaos and serenity—rooted together inside him.

And somehow, without needing to think, Adyr knew this was Grace.

He glanced around, observing the calm faces of those quietly eating at the table. Then, with no warning, he unleashed the new residence.

The effect was instant.

A subtle aura enveloped his body—barely visible, yet undeniably present. Not solid, not illusion, but something in between. A faint divine shimmer that bled outward from him, filling the table, touching those seated near him, and then spreading further... until the entire room was wrapped in its gentle radiance.

"What is this?" Niva tore her gaze from the meal she’d been enjoying, glancing around.

She couldn’t see the Grace in the air, but she could feel something. Like a thin veil had settled over them all. It wasn’t threatening. It was more like a cold breeze brushing through a stifling summer day or a burst of air freshener in a room that hadn’t been cleaned for weeks.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Others exchanged uncertain glances, their voices fading as the strange sensation sank deeper into the room.

Marielle, mid-bite, suddenly paused. The fork slipped from her hand and clinked against the plate. Without thinking, she scratched at the spot where her missing arm had been, the phantom itch unbearable—like something alive stirring in empty air.

Meanwhile, Neris’s eyes stayed on the children. Her instincts as a new mother had sharpened recently. This presence wasn’t hostile—far from it—but it was still unfamiliar. And the unfamiliar mattered, especially when just yesterday, something similar had wiped out thousands in an instant.

She narrowed her eyes and turned to Boy. "Boy, can you turn to me for a second?"

The child looked up, confused.

She leaned in, her gaze fixed on the small mark on his forehead.

It wasn’t really a scar—just a faint mark, the remnant of an old injury from when he accidentally hit his head on the seat during their return from the Cannibal’s territory. The wound had long since healed, leaving only a trace on the surface.

But now?

That trace seemed alive, faintly glowing, as if something dormant beneath the surface had been stirred awake—resonating with the power Adyr had just unleashed.

Before Neris’s eyes, the dried scab on Boy’s wound began to flake off in small pieces, strangely and effortlessly. Within seconds, it had completely fallen away, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin—as if the injury had never existed.

"T-This?" Neris murmured in disbelief, gently rubbing the spot on Boy’s face where the wound had been.

But the effects didn’t stop there. Everyone felt a brief tingling across their bodies. When they looked at their own itchy spots—new or old wounds—they saw scabs falling away, revealing fully healed, smooth skin underneath.

And it wasn’t just physical. Mentally, everyone felt suddenly lighter, clearer, as if a tranquil haze lifted. The world itself seemed to brighten and become more vibrant—far beyond any effect the medicine in their meals could explain.

"Brother?" Niva blinked and turned toward the one person sitting quietly at the table.

Anyone with even a shred of common sense could immediately tell that, if it wasn’t Adyr causing this effect, then he was at least the only one who truly understood what it was.

"Don’t worry, it’s just a new ability I gained," he said with a chuckle as he watched their reactions.

The purpose of Grace was now clear—both spiritual and physical healing. Adyr himself could feel his cells responding to the divine aura, moving and repairing, even healing his own wounds.

With this, my regeneration ability has at least doubled, he thought, satisfied.

The effect of Grace was simple, at least as much as Adyr could decipher. While it doubled his regeneration ability—both mentally and physically—the divine translucent aura he radiated also allowed him to share this regenerative power with others.

In other words, whatever speed he could heal his own wounds at, those within his aura healed at the same rate.

Adyr looked especially at Marielle’s missing arm with extra interest but felt disappointed.

For a moment, he thought his regeneration might have advanced to the point of even restoring lost limbs. But clearly, it hadn’t reached that level yet.

Of course, thanks to Dawn Raven’s innate ability, he could still wield such a power—but only by consuming fresh flesh that contained a living life force.

While Adyr answered the questioning eyes directed at him with a calm smile and a brief, vague explanation of his newly acquired talent—careful to avoid mentioning bloodline talents or any deeper details—his energy body was already descending toward the Mother Tree within Twilight Land.

With this new Genesis talent came another upgrade.

He placed his energy hand on the towering trunk of the Mother Tree, now rising meters above, and released Grace.

[Mother Tree responding to the energy source of Genesis.]

[Mother Tree growing...]

The effect was instant. The tree trembled as if thirsting for the divine energy, absorbing it hungrily. Soon, it began to grow—slowly but steadily—reaching ever higher.