Chapter 362 Full of Surprises

When the process was completed, the cognitive cost hit Ray like a sledgehammer to the skull.

Ray gasped, his eyes almost rolling back as his motor functions instantly failed. He collapsed backward, hitting the floor hard. His skin turned deathly pale, and a cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. The agonizing migraine felt like a white-hot spike being driven directly through his brain.

With violently trembling, uncoordinated hands, Ray desperately clawed at his belt pouch. His fingers felt numb and useless. He fumbled with the clasp, tearing it open and pulling out a dense ration bar. He shoved it into his mouth, his teeth cracking against the hard brick of nutrients, and forced himself to chew.

Instantly, the Crimson Weaver’s passive ‘Neural Gastronomy‘ kicked in. The calories from the food were aggressively converted into cognitive relief, marginally cooling the burning agony in his skull. He choked down the first bar, immediately reaching for a second, then a third.

On the other side of the room, Svane was experiencing his own overwhelming shock.

The moment Ray’s thumb had touched his forehead, an explosion of information had violently rewired Svane's nervous system. He felt the Body-Mind Harmony instantly stitch the frayed connection between his core and his body back together. But it was the Predator's Intuition that brought him to his knees.

Suddenly, Svane could feel the world more. The vague instincts of a veteran soldier were sharpened into razor-precise, directional data. He could sense the exact location of the guards walking on the wall outside. He could feel the directional intent of the wind. The sheer volume of sensory input was staggering, but his disciplined mind slowly wrestled it into submission.

So this is how he always knows,this is how he senses danger far ahead of anyone else.

Svane realized in absolute awe.

Panting heavily, Svane finally opened his eyes, expecting to see his Lord standing proudly.

Instead, he saw Ray sprawled on the stone floor, his face the color of ash, furiously chewing his way through his fourth ration bar with shaking hands.

"My Lord! Are you alright? What happened?!"

Svane shouted, scrambling forward in a panic.

Ray swallowed heavily, his breathing ragged but finally beginning to steady as he recovers his mental stamina.

"I am fine, Svane. The process just takes a little out of me, that is all."

Ray rasped, his voice dry as he forced a weak wave of his hand.

Hearing the casual excuse, and seeing his Lord's pale, exhausted state, something clicked deep within Svane’s brain.

His eyes widened as a memory from last year suddenly surfaced. He remembered standing guard at College of Statecraft alcove at Solhaven Academy. He remembered seeing Ray and the Vance Merchant Group's daughter, Eliza Vance, standing together in a secluded, open courtyard. Ray had reached out, gently pressing his thumb to Eliza’s forehead. Afterward, Ray had stumbled, looking pale and exhausted, and had immediately started devouring food.

At the time, from a distance, Svane had assumed he was witnessing a deeply intimate display of youthful affection. He had thought Ray was simply overwhelmed by the romance of touching a beautiful girl's face.

Staring at his own newly enhanced senses, and looking down at his exhausted Lord, the hilarious, mind-bending truth finally hit the Vanguard.

It was never romance. Ray had secretly imparted a gift to Eliza Vance right in the middle of the academy gardens.

Svane thought as reached down to help his Lord up.

"By the Founders… You are full of surprises, my Lord."

Svane whispered, a rare, genuine smile cracking his stoic features.

The surprises are not over yet, Svane.

Svane physically jumped, his eyes darting around the room. The voice had not traveled through the air. It had not vibrated his eardrums. It had manifested with crystal clarity directly inside the center of his skull.

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He looked at Ray. The young Lord was sitting calmly on the floor, his lips completely motionless, offering a faint, knowing smile.

This is the Resonant Link,it is a direct, encrypted telepathic bridge between us. We can communicate silently as long as we are within twenty-five kilometers of each other.

Ray’s voice echoed in Svane’s mind.

Svane's eyes widened as his veteran mind instantly processed the overwhelming tactical uses of the ability.

"I can hear you perfectly, my Lord. Can I... speak back?"

Svane said, his voice hushed.

You can simply direct your thoughts toward the connection. However, initiating the link from your end will exact a mild cognitive toll depending on our physical distance. I advise you only to initiate it if the situation is critical. Otherwise, let me open the channel.

Ray replied mentally.

Understood, my Lord.

Svane responded mentally as he nodded slowly.

Another memory suddenly clicked into place. Months ago, on the road to the Iron-Wake Domain, their carriage had been stopped by a group of bandits. Ray and Rina had plunged into a blinding cloud of thick smoke, yet they had fought with impossible, flawless coordination. They had moved like two halves of the same weapon, never speaking a single word.

This was how you commanded Rina in the smoke that time with bandits!

Svane realized, absolute awe coloring his mental voice.

Ray’s smile widened a little. He severed the link, speaking aloud.

"Correct. Now, before I show you another feature of our connection. I need to verify your internal pathways. Cast a spell, Svane. A simple fortification."

Svane immediately shifted into a sturdy combat stance. He closed his eyes, locating his mana core, and mentally braced himself for the violent, stuttering resistance he had experienced just minutes ago.

He pulled the mana upward.

There was no stutter. There was no resistance.

The energy rushed through his meridians like a torrential river bursting through an open dam. The Body-Mind Harmony skill had not just repaired the frayed connection; it had optimized it. Svane’s physical body and his internal core moved in absolute, flawless synchronization.

“Scutum.”

The ambient mana in the room coalesced around him instantly, snapping into the rigid geometric matrix of the 1st-Circle Shield spell.

A translucent, hexagonal barrier of kinetic force flared to life over his forearm in less than half a second.

It was the fastest, smoothest cast Svane had ever executed in his entire life.

Ray watched the golden flow of energy through his Aetheric Perception, nodding in deep satisfaction.

"Excellent, the synergy has been restored. Now, sit down on the floor and cross your legs. For this next feature, we need to be in a meditative state."

Ray said, leaning forward.

Svane didn't ask questions. He immediately dropped into a seated lotus position on the cold stone floor, resting his hands on his knees and closing his eyes. He trusted Ray with his life, his magic, and his mind.

Ray closed his own eyes and opened the system interface.

System. Initiate 'Shared Tactical Replication Protocol'. Designate Understudy: Svane Orben. Environmental Parameters: Ruinstone Mining Site. Enemy Parameters: Corrupted Beast Horde.

[INITIATING 'SHARED TACTICAL REPLICATION PROTOCOL'...]

[ESTABLISHING NEURAL BRIDGE VIA RESONANT LINK: UNDERSTUDY SVANE ORBEN...]

[CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.]

[AETHERIC ANCHORING ACTIVE: DETECTING ABOVE-AVERAGE AMBIENT AETHER. HOST COGNITIVE AND AETHERIC STRAIN REDUCED BY 30%.]

[GENERATING ENVIRONMENTAL PARAMETERS: RUINSTONE MINING SITE...]

[POPULATING HOSTILE ENTITIES: CORRUPTED BEAST HORDE...]

[SIMULATION SUITE READY. COMMENCING NEURAL DIVE.]

The quiet, herbal-scented darkness behind Svane’s eyelids suddenly dissolved.

A heavy, damp chill, and the suffocating, oppressive weight of hyper-dense Aether, instantly sank into his bones. The solid, smooth stone beneath him was gone, replaced by cracked, ancient pavement and piles of pulverized pale masonry.

Svane opened his eyes.

He was no longer in Greywood Keep. He was standing directly in the center of the Ruinstone mining site, surrounded by the bones of an ancient, ruined village. The oppressive, damp fog of the Whispering Hills swirled around his boots, drifting through shattered homes and perfectly sheared-off arches.

Ray materialized beside him a second later, completely unbothered by the sudden shift in reality.

"Do not panic, Svane, we have not physically moved. This is a mental construct, a simulated tactical suite I replicated."

Ray said, his voice cutting through the misty gloom.

Svane stared out into the mist, his jaw tight. He reached down and touched the gravel. It felt cold. It felt real. He remembered the War-gaming event back at Solhaven Academy. To create an illusionary place like this, the academy had relied on an artifact that required a terrifying amount of energy to use.

The method of Ray’s Patron had just flawlessly recreated reality inside their minds without a single physical tool. The sheer, unfathomable power of the entity backing his Lord sent a cold shiver down the Vanguard's spine.

Before Svane could ask how the illusion was maintained, a sharp, piercing needle of instinct spiked directly into the front of his brain.

It wasn't a vague feeling of unease. It was a hyper-specific, directional ping of absolute danger.

At the exact same time, both Ray and Svane snapped their heads to the right, staring at a specific cluster of ancient, twisted trees shrouded in fog. They change their stance, Predator’s Intuition had triggered for both of them simultaneously, locking onto the exact vector of hostile intent.

Through the mist, pairs of glowing, blood-red eyes slowly appeared. The corrupted forest hounds, the massive razorbacks, and the giant silverbacks stepped out of the treeline.

It was the exact same horde.

"They feel real, my Lord."

Svane grunted, drawing his broadsword and raising his tower shield.

"They are exact tactile and behavioral replicas based on the data gathered during our skirmish. Want a second round?"

Ray replied as his hands glowing with Primordial Aether and looked sideways at his Vanguard.

Svane’s lips curled into a fierce grin.

"Of course, my Lord."

And then they charge.