For a split second, the captives stood paralyzed in disbelief.
Then, a sudden wave of excitement, impatience, and raw longing began to spread across their faces—their heartbeats sped up, their breathing growing labored.
After all, they had witnessed firsthand what the healer was capable of—performing acts that would be hailed as nothing short of miraculous in the outside world.
Unlike Gil, Greg, and Kuro, who had been unconscious at the time, the others had also seen the devastating, monstrous force with which Hector slaughtered the beasts that had pushed them to the brink of extinction.
And just the day before, they had watched their jailer crush a man into a lifeless pile of flesh without making a single visible movement.
If their first encounter with these abilities could have been dismissed as poor lighting or a concealed weapon, everything that followed proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that supernatural powers existed.
And now, they were being told that they might be able to learn them.
Even if it was just a faint possibility, the mere notion sent most of the captives into fevered dreams of power, imagining themselves wielding such strength at will—and perhaps finally taking control of their own fates.
In Mao's group, most of them—including Mao himself—were practically vibrating with excitement.
Finally, the Scholar thought, a sudden rush of anticipation surging through him. This is my chance.
He cast a quick, discreet glance toward Gil. A fleeting flash of fierce ambition flickered across his eyes before he sharply turned away.
This is exactly what I need. If these abilities can be learned, I don't care what price I have to pay...
Only a select few among them maintained a cautious attitude toward this so-called "gift" of power they were about to receive.
Helena's group was made up of those who were slightly more composed. Though the prospect of acquiring such power excited them as well, her influence over her group was already deeply rooted despite the brief time that had passed.
Discreetly or openly, they all kept looking to her, seeking guidance or waiting for instructions on how to proceed. She, too, had been caught off guard by the announcement and the sheer possibility of wielding supernatural abilities.
But unlike most of the others, she didn't let excitement cloud her judgment—she even seemed a tad indifferent to the prospect, or at least it seemed so to Gil.
With a subtle, encouraging, yet cautious nod, her silent message to her group was clear: Go ahead, but stay on your guard.
Gil, for his part, felt no surge of excitement when he heard that their predispositions for wielding such power were about to be tested.
On the contrary, as he watched the crowd's reaction, only one heavy thought echoed through his mind:Here it comes...
As for those so eager to get at it, it wasn't that they were completely naive or lacked suspicion, but rather that under such desperate circumstances—believing they had nothing left to lose since their fates were already bound to the whims of their captors—they figured they might as well embrace the change.
"Did he...?" someone among them muttered, looking in Gil's direction.
Prompted by the question, the captives began to recall that even among their own ranks, there were those who had already displayed unnatural abilities.
Gradually, Gil could feel more and more eyes locking onto him—some covertly, others with shameless curiosity.
Did he learn that from one of those men in the organization, too?
Recalling the fierce authority with which Hector had claimed ownership over Gil in front of everyone, several captives quickly drew their own conclusions.
It all makes sense now. If it can be learned, that means we can gain those powers too! We won't be helpless if we ever have to face those monsters again.
The intoxicating prospect of wielding the same terrifying strength as Gil, the healer, or Hector swept through the crowd, poisoning their caution.
Among them, Mao's gaze grew increasingly fanatical.
Yes... if this power can be taught, then... the Scholar thought, casting another sharp glance at Gil.
I really hate this, Gil grumbled inwardly. He could feel the weight of their stares and despised the dangerous illusion the healer's announcement had just created.
Yet, despite his deep suspicion that this "opportunity" was a trap, even Gil couldn't completely shut off his own curiosity.
A small, stubborn part of his mind kept lingering on the instructor's words.
You never know...
But just as quickly, Gil snapped himself out of it, his eyes narrowing as he reanchored his resolve.
No. Whatever gift they're offering, it's bound to be poisoned.
Stealthily, Gil motioned to Orphée, Hugo, and Greg to stay alert and be extra careful about whatever was coming next.
One could argue it was almost laughable for him to ask for any form of resistance when they were completely at their captors' mercy. But they had no intention of ending up like the healer—not only being sold out, but helping their seller count the money afterward. That was strictly out of the question.
Kuro and Orphée gave discreet nods, signaling they understood and clearly shared the same heavy reservations about what was unfolding.
More accurately, Orphée seemed completely unfazed, though Gil caught the faint twitch of his lips curling into a mocking smirk. He appeared entirely detached and indifferent to the prospect of wielding these so-called powers the healer spoke of.
In fact, rather than caring about acquiring them himself, he seemed genuinely curious to see just how the healer intended to test their predispositions.
Kuro was visibly tempted for a brief moment, but quickly raised her guard several notches, her sharp eyes scrutinizing every movement and questioning whatever hidden motives the instructor might have.
Hugo didn't fully grasp what the healer was talking about. Yet, picking up on the shift in the captives around them and taking his cue from Gil, he pieced together his own silent conclusion and nodded along.
As for Greg, while he didn't always think as far ahead as the others, he still found the whole situation profoundly suspect. Stepping a bit closer to the rest of the group, he fixed his gaze on the instructor with newfound mistrust.
Every single subtle gesture—their instinctual choice to refuse the temptation of power, their collective retreat into vigilance—did not escape the healer's sharp eyes.
However, the man said nothing, simply turning a blind eye to what he saw.
Think whatever you want, the healer's quiet and weary demeanor seemed to say. It changes nothing.
After giving them a moment to prepare, the healer decided to take action. He clapped his hands once to command their attention and draw all eyes to himself.
After a brief pause, he addressed the crowd.
"Follow me."
Leading them toward one of the devices at the back of the room, they came to a halt before a strange crystalline prism.
Deep within its core, a faint light flickered periodically.
"Form a line and step forward one by one to touch this crystal," the healer instructed, offering no further explanation. Yet, the sudden solemnity in his voice conveyed the gravity of the task better than words ever could.
Immediately, a brief scramble ensued as the captives jostled and pushed one another, each eager to be first.
Surprisingly, it was the Scholar who managed to secure the front of the line. Unable to contain his frantic excitement, Mao stepped forward and pressed his hand firmly against the prism.
Alas...
One second passed.
Two seconds.
Three.
Nothing happened.
The Scholar's expression steadily soured, darkening with growing anxiety. After three agonizing minutes had elapsed without the slightest reaction from the stone, the healer spoke coldly.
"Next."
"Wait, give me a—!" Mao blurted out, desperation creeping into his voice as he feared losing his chance.
"I said, next."
Feeling the unspoken threat laced within those three words, Mao hung his head and reluctantly slunk off to the side.
"Serves him right. That'll teach him."
"All that talk, and for what?"
Muffled whispers and quiet snickers broke out among the captives as they openly relished Mao's humiliation.
But on the flip side, their own confidence took a heavy hit. Seeing that the Scholar had utterly failed, their delusions of effortlessly possessing the required predispositions to manipulate divine power were shattered.
If someone as calculating as Mao couldn't trigger a reaction, what made them think they could?
One after another, the captives stepped forward, pressed their hands against the prism for three agonizing minutes, and slunk away with their heads hung low, disappointment weighing heavy on their chests.
Finally, it was Arya's turn.
The split second her palm touched the crystal, the device reacted.
A clear, brilliant light burst from its core, glowing far brighter and deeper than its idle flicker.
Instantly, every single pair of eyes in the room locked onto the young girl.
Startled by the sudden brilliance, Arya flinched and drew her hand back, looking around nervously, completely overwhelmed at becoming the center of attention.