Magister Insanity

After the runic study class ended, I made my way to the male public toilets and stepped inside.

Of course, I wasn't there for… typical reasons. Conveniently, the combat training hall was located nearby. I hadn't registered for the class, so I wasn't allowed in... but that didn't mean I couldn't observe from a distance.

According to the book Basics of Legacy Manipulation, a certain instinctual understanding lay buried deep within the subconscious. Whether it was a gift from the Dreadspire or an innate trait shared by all Blasphemers, I wasn't entirely sure. From the moment I first arrived in this world, I had begun tapping into that hidden knowledge, gradually learning to translate it into practical use.

If the soul devouring shadow could strengthen my senses, what was stopping me from doing the same?

Focusing intently on the boundaries of my soul, I soon traced the faint, white outlines of an otherworldly form. Slowly, methodically, I split my mind into two perfect halves: one to control my body, the other to govern the shadow.

Testing the connection, I commanded the shadow to raise a hand.

And it obediently did as instructed.

'Awesome.'

A smile spread across my face. Strange as it might have seemed, creepy, even, controlling the shadow felt as natural as breathing.

It was no longer an external tool; it was an extension of my very body.

Satisfied with this initial success, I gave it a new command. Without hesitation, the shadow slipped away from the soles of my shoes, moving with smooth, sinuous fluidity, like a living serpent.

Now it hovered just in front of the door, coiling slightly as if assessing me, waiting for my next instruction.

'Time for the next test: vision sharing.'

With a bit of trying, I strengthened my focus on the second part of my psyche. Instantly, my vision blurred.

I blinked.

Then two perspectives coexisted in my mind: one from my own eyes, the other from the shadow's. A single, unblinking eye seemed to form where the shadow's face would be, merging its gaze seamlessly with my awareness.

It was disorienting at first, but exhilarating. I could see through the shadow as an extension of myself while still maintaining my own perspective. The boundary between self and shadow was dissolving, and with it came an unprecedented clarity.

Even with just this, the possibilities were limitless.

Could someone become the perfect assassin with a tool like this? Absolutely.

Not only that, [Sunless] granted me unnatural fluidity of movement, the ability to move stealthy within the shadows, and even accelerated recovery.

In short, it was an ability that could turn anyone into the ultimate stealth operative or sky-bound predator. And if I combined it with the soul-devouring shadow's ability extraction, the potential grew even more staggering.

"Though… seeing myself through the shadow while sitting on the toilet isn't exactly inspiring," I muttered, a wry smile tugging at my lips.

Shaking my head, I refocused and issued a new command. Sending the shadow through the crowded hallway would have drawn far too much attention, so instead I guided it along the wall, letting it glide silently over the surface. It moved with effortless grace until it reached the narrow crack of a window overlooking the combat hall.

Through the sliver of light, the shadow slipped inside the sprawling dojo. With careful, subtle movements, it remained virtually invisible. It drifted past a few Sleepless, and fragments of their conversations drifted, but none contained anything of value. I ignored them and let the shadow continue its search, probing for an optimal vantage point.

After some time weaving through the room, I directed the shadow to settle around a corner that offered a perfect, unobstructed view. My eyes now had a clear picture of the combat hall, every movement captured without risking exposure.

Under the watchful eye of the blindfolded instructor, Enlightened Kai, the Sleepless moved through the motions of the introductory combat class.

Today's lesson focused primarily on assessing general competency and innate abilities. Once evaluated, the students would be divided into groups according to level of experience such as beginner, advanced, or expert. Some would receive personal tutors or be paired for specialized training.

From my vantage point, it was clear that Instructor Kai had allowed the use of abilities; several Sleepless were already demonstrating their powers mid-combat right at this moment.

Such luck!

Why was this so advantageous? Simple. I needed to identify potential targets. And what better way to do so than by watching them fight and learn all their abilities at the same time?

I only needed to see them in action once. That would be enough!

Currently, two Sleepless were sparring with practice weapons. One was a slender elf wielding a pair of short blades, spinning and weaving them with an elegance that spoke of extensive training.

His opponent, a stockier crossblood, gripped a longsword with both hands, relying on raw strength and a rigid, defensive stance. Sparks flew whenever their weapons clashed, each strike producing a metallic ring that echoed through the hall.

The elf's style was fluid, almost dance-like, but it lacked adaptability. He relied on repetition and memorized patterns. The crossblood, by contrast, compensated for slower movements with bursts of raw power and defensive anticipation. His reactions were instinctual, less refined but effective against predictable opponents.

Even a complete novice like me could notice this. How interesting.

Something's happening.

As they continued sparring, my eyes noticed a faint aura pulsed around the elf's blades. It seems like a subtle form of manipulation of kinetic energy, which enhanced speed of the blades and cutting power.

Eventually, the crossblood realized what was happening. But before he could react, it was already too late.

The elf twisted his body with a flourish, spinning one blade in a wide arc. The kinetic aura flared, accelerating the strike with a sudden burst of speed. The crossblood barely had time to raise his longsword, and the edge of the elf's blade grazed his armor, leaving a shallow but precise scratch along the chestplate.

A sharp "ding" suddenly rang out from the crossblood's practice training suit, signaling the end of the sparring round.

Instructor Kai's voice echoed:

"Combat complete. Drop your weapons and leave the circle."

The two sparring partners stepped back, lowering their weapons. The elf's eyes flickered with the faintest hint of pride, while the crossblood's expression twisted bitterly, clearly frustrated about his unforeseen defeat.

Watching them return to their seats, Instructor Kai allowed his gaze to sweep across the room, taking in the posture, expressions, and subtle movements of each Sleepless. Then, after several measured seconds, his voice broke the silence once more.

"Listen, everyone. Some of you may have already received training from your families or instructors in relatively safe environments. Perhaps your teacher was quite skilled, and your practice orderly. But a real battlefield is chaotic and unpredictable, it's far from uniform. There will be moments when you can't rely on a sword, spear, or any conventional weapon. In those situations, you must rely on instinct, adaptability, and your own Legacy. Your skills will be tested not only against predictable foes but against unexpected circumstances such as enemies who do not follow patterns, environments that hinder movement, and threats you cannot foresee. Strength alone will not save you; cleverness, perception, and the ability to think several steps ahead are just as crucial."

He paused, letting his words settle into the minds of the Sleepless. A faint murmur ran through the room.

"Today's sparring exercises are just the beginning. I want each of you to observe not only your opponents' techniques but also their weaknesses. Learn to read their movements, their combat style, and most importantly, their intent to attack. That is how a Blasphemer survives beyond the confines of the training hall."

Kai's blindfolded gaze swept across the students once more, lingering on those who had shown particular promise.

"To illustrate my point, I need two volunteers from the expert rank to step into the circle."

Two Sleepless rose from their seats. One was a young man with jet-black hair and piercing sky-blue eyes; the other, a golden-haired youth whose eyes shone with a knightly radiance.

Both were instantly recognizable.

Lancer and Gundric stepped toward the circle. But something about their approach drew attention.

Lancer's eyes narrowed.

"Hey… did you forget to pick a weapon?"

Indeed, the observation was correct. Lancer gripped a wooden staff, but the golden-haired boy stood empty-handed. This was certainly unusual.

Gundric merely shrugged.

"I didn't forget."

Lancer tilted his head as though he didn't understand. "Huh? Then..."

"I don't need a weapon."

"..."

Silence fell heavily.

His words were so utterly absurd that the sheer audacity behind them could almost be felt in the air.

I wasn't the only one stunned. Lancer, who had clearly been shown such blatant disrespect, looked as if he'd just been slapped with a wet fish.

The two of them stared at each other and continued to stare at each other. For a brief moment, Lancer's brows furrowed into a deep frown but then, just as quickly, he relaxed.

Resting the wooden staff on his shoulders, he shifted his weight and shrugged.

"Fine. Have it your way. Make sure not to regret it."

... And just like that, Lancer completely vanished from view.