Back at the dormitory, Robb carefully locked all doors and windows. He checked the trap sigils he had set the previous night, and only when confirming everything was undisturbed did he allow himself to relax.
Tonight, he planned to meditate with Whispers of the Star-Eater again, but with even more caution, avoiding any chance of triggering another intense burst of inspiration.
Robb re-applied protective glyphs in all four corners of the room, lit his custom-made calming incense, and placed the silver pocket watch beside him, ready for emergencies.
"Stay steady. Don't rush progress," he reminded himself, then sat cross-legged and closed his eyes.
This time, he didn't immediately begin constructing the advanced meditation glyph. Instead, he started with basic meditation, letting his mental energy flow along familiar paths, establishing a solid, stable baseline.
Only when he felt his state was balanced did he begin transitioning into the Whispers of the Star-Eater structure, step by cautious step, terrified of triggering the kind of intense inspiration that had overwhelmed him the night before.
As the glyph slowly formed, Robb could feel a subtle transformation in the quality of his mental energy.
Unlike the peaceful and gentle feeling of basic meditation, the Whispers method made his thoughts sharper, more agile, like a tranquil lake turning into a rushing current.
It was a strange sensation, his thoughts becoming more precise, his senses keener. He could even perceive faint magical fluctuations in the room's air.
At the same time, a faint trace of mental contamination began to seep in.
Not as intense or maddening as the night before, this was more like background noise. Faint. Constant. Unshakable.
[Whispers of the Star-Eater EXP +1]
"Just as I thought. As long as I don't trigger that inspiration effect, progress is slower but the mental contamination is minimal. Last time must have been due to 'Mental Circulation' activating and accelerating the process too much, which triggered inspiration all at once."
Robb focused entirely on the stabilized glyph structure that Madam Elena had taught him, avoiding any pursuit of deeper layers where inspiration might lie.
Even so, he chose to use the Timekeeper's Pocket Watch to cleanse the contamination.
He closed his eyes and focused on the subtle psychic discomfort, then guided it into the watch.
[Negative status reset: Minor Mental Contamination , Energy -2]
With the contamination absorbed, Robb's mind grew even clearer.
The faint mental unease from earlier meditation was gone, replaced by a pleasant clarity.
"Not bad. Even steady-paced training becomes incredibly efficient when combined with the watch." Robb nodded in satisfaction.
He glanced outside. Night had deepened, but his mind remained alert and sharp.
It was likely a side effect of Whispers of the Star-Eater, with enhanced mental energy, his need for sleep had decreased.
Robb began a full assessment of his current condition, stripping away any illusions or blind optimism and facing the challenges ahead head-on:
[Robb Reyne]
[Age: 15]
[Current Combat Classes: Wizard Apprentice (★1.5), Knight Apprentice (★1)]
[Current Life Class: Alchemy Apprentice (★1)]
[Attributes]
Physique: 1.5
Spirit: 2.6
Mana: 0.7
[Skills]
Basic Alchemy Knowledge (Adept)
Whispers of the Star-Eater (Adept)
Zero-Circle: Mucus Splash (Adept MAX)
Potion Brewing (Novice)
Herb Identification (Adept)
Basic Swordcraft (Adept)
Solar Breath (Novice)
Spell Construction (Novice)
Mental Interference (Novice)
Sonic Tremor (Adept)
[Special Talents]
Dual Soul
Solar Blessing (Fragment)
[Power Tier]
Low-tier Apprentice
Unknowingly, his progress across all disciplines had become visible to the naked eye.
From potion crafting to meditation, from herb recognition to swordcraft, everything was steadily improving.
Especially Basic Swordcraft. With the pocket watch's help, it had already reached halfway through the proficient tier, another breakthrough was on the horizon.
"Even conservatively estimated, I should hit Mid-tier Apprentice within two months."
Robb murmured to himself, "If my Spirit reaches 3.0, I'll break into mid-tier status. Entering the candidate mage ranks is within reach."
Achievements that would make any apprentice proud, but Robb grew even more cautious.
Just as Madam Elena warned, the more talented you are, the easier it is to fall from arrogance.
"Stay vigilant, especially over my mental state."
After recording everything, he picked up the silver pocket watch again, preparing to begin another training cycle.
Though he had expended a good amount of energy during the day, the watch would reset his fatigue with ease.
[Negative Status Absorbed: Fatigue, Energy -1]
With the reset, Robb no longer felt even a trace of tiredness, instead, he was refreshed, like he'd just awakened from a full night's rest.
"This watch is ridiculously convenient."
He picked up his ironwood sword and resumed his nightly swordsmanship drills. Every movement was precise and fluid, merging Solar Breath seamlessly with his bladework.
Swordlight danced through the dimly lit room like a dark fish gliding underwater, graceful and deadly.
After two hours, when muscle ache and soreness began to build, Robb used the watch again to reset.
Repeated training-reset cycles continued, steadily building up his swordsmanship experience.
When training ended, he drifted off into dreams, this time finding himself walking through the star-sea again. The whispers were still there, but no longer incomprehensible. They were beginning to form meaning.
Farwynd Kingdom, House Reyne, Count's Estate
The winter sunlight was pale and weak, slanting through the towering windows of the study, but it couldn't dispel the heavy atmosphere inside.
Count Reyne sat at his desk, brows tightly furrowed. The ledger open before him felt like an insurmountable mountain.
The fireplace crackled faintly, adding a shred of warmth to the solemn space.
"Father, we need to talk."
A tall young man pushed open the door. This was Robb's elder brother, Edmund, heir to the House of Reyne, and the current overseer of family affairs.
The earl looked up. His once sharp eyes were now bloodshot, his temples marked by the deep lines of age. "What now?"
Edmund sat across from his father and took a deep breath.
"The western wheat fields have failed for three years. Last year's plague took a quarter of our serfs. Our estate's expenses now far exceed its income, especially…"
He hesitated, carefully choosing his words. "Especially the magic crystal fragments we send Robb each month. It's pushed our finances to the brink of collapse."
The Count's eyes flickered, but he quickly regained composure. "What are you saying?"
"Father, last month you mortgaged the eastern vineyard. This month, you sold off grandmother's silver heirlooms, just to scrape together ten shards."
Edmund's voice trembled with pain. "I know better than anyone the state of our family, we're barely holding on."