The afternoon bell had already rung through the Ardent estate, signaling the end of the household's scheduled rest period. One by one, the members of the family resumed their duties.
Within noble society, it was drilled from a young age that effort alone was not enough. Efficiency mattered just as much. To execute one's responsibilities at peak performance, proper rest was considered essential.
Lucien moved through the estate's inner corridors with measured steps, his destination clear.
The main library.
One of the largest buildings within the Ardent estate, it stood slightly apart from the residential quarters, its stone walls tall and solemn, its presence carrying the quiet authority of accumulated knowledge.
As Lucien reached the iron gates at the library's entrance, two guards clad in full plate armor stepped aside. Spears held upright, they offered him a shallow bow—perfectly proper in form.
Yet the contempt in their eyes was unmistakable.
But they were not alone.
Servants paused briefly in their work, maids lowered their gazes just a little too slowly, and guards along the corridors watched him with open disdain. Even members of the Ardent family themselves did not bother to hide their expressions.
Looks that said "trash."
Looks that said "you no longer belong here."
Lucien noticed them all.
He told himself he didn't care—and for the most part, that was true. Still, the weight of those gazes left a faint bitterness lingering at the back of his throat.
This was precisely why he had displayed his so-called trash talent so openly. To sever ties with people like this. To escape the suffocating hierarchy of the Ardent household.
Yet reality had other plans.
He still had ten days before his departure.
Ten days to prepare for a journey that would take three to three and a half months by ordinary carriage. And this time, there would be no entourage. No attendants. No privileges afforded to an Ardent heir.
Stripped of status and authority, he was now nothing more than a name—Lucien Ardent, a minor noble officially assigned as the mayor of a remote border town.
A mayor.
A position so small that many things once taken for granted were now simply unavailable. Resources, influence, even basic logistical support—all gone.
The thought made him sigh quietly.
'Adjustments would have to be made.'
Stepping inside the library, Lucien slowed his pace and took in his surroundings.
The interior was vast, far larger than it appeared from the outside. Tall shelves of dark wood stretched toward the ceiling, packed tightly with neatly arranged tomes. Long reading tables occupied the open spaces between them, already filled with members of the Ardent family immersed in their studies.
The scene stirred a faint sense of familiarity within him.
It reminded him of the university libraries from his previous life—solemn, orderly spaces meant for focus rather than leisure. Yet unlike those places, there was no whispered laughter here, no idle chatter or half-hearted studying. Every person present carried themselves with rigid discipline, their attention fixed firmly on their books.
Lucien moved quietly along the marble floor, his footsteps barely audible as he headed toward the far end of the first floor. That was where the collections on low-grade martial arts manuals and knight breathing techniques were stored.
As he passed, the younger members of the family occasionally glanced in his direction, their expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled disdain. The older Ardents merely spared him a brief look before returning to their reading, neither interested nor concerned.
He was no longer worth their attention.
Lucien selected a shelf and began scanning the spines of the books, his movements unhurried.
That was when he sensed it.
Someone had followed him.
The footsteps were careful, deliberately casual, as though the person were simply browsing. A young Ardent came to a stop beside him, reaching out for a book while pretending not to notice Lucien at all.
Then, leaning just close enough, the youth whispered:
"What are you doing here, trash?"
The words were soft—barely more than a breath—but sharp enough to sting.
Lucien turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting the young man's for a brief moment.
Before he could say anything, the youth had already stepped away, blending back into the shelves as if nothing had happened.
Lucien exhaled slowly and returned his attention to the books.
He understood this place well enough to know that no one would dare cause a scene here. The Ardent family enforced strict discipline, especially within the library. Any disturbance—even a raised voice—could result in losing access to this place for months, sometimes years.
The young ones knew that better than anyone.
So they limited themselves to whispers and glances, petty acts meant to provoke without crossing the line.
Lucien didn't bother reacting.
There was no need.
In a place ruled by silence and restraint, patience was its own kind of defense.
Instead of wasting his thoughts on a petty provocation, Lucien turned his attention back to the shelves.
He was here for something far more important.
After spending some time scanning the rows, he finally located a thin volume bound in faded green leather. Compared to the thicker tomes beside it, this one looked almost unremarkable.
Lucien pulled it free and glanced at the title.
"Whispering Gale Breathing"
A low-grade wind-element knight breathing technique.
It was not rare, nor was it particularly powerful. The manual described only basic aura circulation methods, with minimal elemental amplification. At best, it allowed a practitioner to slowly refine their aura toward the wind element, improving agility and endurance over time.
For most knights, this was nothing more than a stepping stone.
Still, Lucien didn't underestimate it.
Low-grade or not, a complete breathing technique was valuable—especially when paired with his system.
Holding the book in one hand, Lucien focused his thoughts inward.
'Fuse it.'
A translucent blue panel immediately appeared before his eyes.
[Would you like to fuse with: Whispering Gale Breathing internal technique (Low-grade)?]
[Fusion Cost: 50 Fusion Points]
[Confirm]
[Cancel]
Lucien raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Only fifty points…"
Compared to what he had gained during the ceremony, this was practically nothing.
'Well, that's convenient.'
He selected Confirm without hesitation.
Another window appeared.
[Fusion initiated…]
The world seemed to pause.
Lucien felt a strange sensation wash over him, as if invisible threads were weaving themselves directly into his mind and body. His vision blurred slightly, and his consciousness drifted.
Three seconds later—
[Fusion completed.]
Lucien inhaled sharply and steadied himself against the shelf.
When his vision cleared, he realized something was very different.
The contents of Whispering Gale Breathing were no longer just words he had read. Every circulation route, every breathing rhythm, every subtle correction that normally took months of trial and error—everything was now etched clearly into his mind.
More than that—
His body understood it.
It was as if he had practiced the technique countless times, refining it through instinct rather than study. His aura responded naturally, aligning itself with the gentle flow described in the manual.
Lucien's eyes widened slightly.
"This isn't just knowledge…"
It was mastery.
Curious, he immediately opened his status panel.
[Status Window]
Name: Lucien Ardent
Tier: 1 (Mid-level)
Talent:
Tilled Earth (F-rank)
Internal Techniques:
Whispering Gale Breathing (Low-grade) – Advanced
Crimson Hearth Breathing (High-grade) – Intermediate
External Techniques:
Horse Riding – Advanced
Swordsmanship – Intermediate
Archery – Intermediate
Accounting – Advanced
...
Lucien stared at the panel, momentarily speechless.
'Advanced.'
The technique had skipped straight past beginner and intermediate stages.
Even though it wasn't fully mastered, reaching the Advanced level with a breathing technique—especially a low-grade one—was no small feat. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken at least several months, if not a year, of consistent practice.
And he had achieved it in three seconds.
Lucien slowly closed the status panel, his heartbeat steady but his thoughts racing.
"So this is how fusion works on learning techniques…"
It didn't just copy information—it refined it, integrated it, and optimized it directly into him.
If this applied to other techniques as well—
Lucien's lips curved into a faint smile.
Wasteland Town might be a desolate place.
But with a system like this, it could become something far more interesting.
----
Make sure to leave a comment and some powerstones if you like this chapter.