Soul Harvester: I Can Evolve My Traits Endlessly

He understood.

While the instructors condemned me for overextending, the Council praised me for securing the relic, the entire academy treated the incident as a political football... Lucien Everhart was the only one who saw the truth.

’He saw the burden. He chose his duty, and he allowed me to carry mine.’

Cassian’s jaw tightened.

A faint, barely perceptible glint of silver astral starlight flickered deep within his dark blue eyes.

”He is not fragile,” Cassian murmured, his voice cutting through his party’s bickering like a razor blade through silk.

The four members of the Astra Party paused, looking at their leader.

Cassian turned his gaze toward the residential quadrant of the academy, where the Everhart villa sat atop a sunlit cliff.

”He carries a spirit far stronger than his vessel,” Cassian continued, his tone solemn, absolute, and carrying that terrifying, unstoppable momentum of a progression fantasy protagonist who had just discovered his primary emotional anchor.

”He refused my protection because he refuses to live in anyone’s shadow. But I will not forget what was spoken today.”

Silas let out an enormous, theatrical groan, slapping his hand over his face. ”Oh, wonderful. Fantastic. He’s doing the brooding hero voice again. Someone fetch a bucket, he’s about to start speaking in heroic iambic pentameter.”

”I think it’s lovely,” Seraphina sighed, clasping her hands together with a sweet, terrifying smile. ”A friendship forged in the crucible of tragedy. It warms the spirit. Though, if he rejects Cassian’s overtures again, we may have to kidnap him and force them to play cards together until they bond. For the sake of team morale, of course.”

”I’ll bring the binding vines!” Lyra volunteered cheerfully, her plant snapping eagerly. ”They secrete a mild sedative that only causes permanent hallucinations twenty percent of the time!”

”I’ll bring the turkey,” Garrick grunted.

Cassian didn’t hear them.

He simply adjusted his drake-hide belt, turned toward the administrative spire, and began walking with long, purposeful strides.

”The Imperial Awakening Ceremony is in six days,” Cassian said quietly. ”We need to prepare. And when Lucien Everhart stands before the Grand Astral Orb... I will ensure House Valemont is there to witness his path.”

Meanwhile, three hundred yards away, hidden within the lush, shadowed canopy of the academy’s ancient arboretum, several pairs of cold, calculating eyes pulled back from brass scrying telescopes.

”Fascinating,” murmured a tall, slender student wearing the crimson cape of the Imperial Student Council, his fingers rhythmically tapping the hilt of a rapier. ”The unawakened son of House Everhart just reduced the Valemont prodigy to speechlessness in the open plaza. And did you see the brother’s lightning magic? The sister’s ice magic?”

”The Everharts are positioning themselves,” whispered a hooded figure beside him, scribbling rapidly onto a piece of enchanted parchment bearing the wax seal of the Second Prince. ”The second son is not a cripple. He was feigning weakness to manipulate the public sentiment. Inform His Highness immediately. A new piece has entered the board.”

On the other side of the courtyard, sitting beneath the marble colonnade with an oversized sketchpad resting upon her knees, a girl with short, cropped raven hair and the ink-stained fingers of the academy’s underground broadsheet guild smiled with predatory glee.

She scratched her pen violently across the paper, writing the bold, screaming headline that would be distributed to four thousand student dormitories before the third bell:

[DIVINE ARROGANCE SHATTERED! UNTOUCHED HERO BOWS IN DUST TO THE INVALID DUKE’S HEIR!]

[SECRET GUILT OR TRAGIC ROMANCE? INSIDE EXCLUSIVE NEWS ON THE SUNKEN CATACOMBS INCIDENT!]

At that exact moment, inside the lavish, marble-floored master bedchamber of the Everhart campus villa, Lucien Alaric Everhart was sitting cross-legged on an enormous velvet sofa, holding his head in both hands, rocking back and forth in misery.

”I am doomed,” Lucien whispered into his knees. ”I am completely, undeniably doomed.”

The villa was gorgeous.

It had three sitting rooms, a private sparring yard that Caelan was already loudly occupying, a solarium where Elara was currently freezing the ornamental orchids, and a personal staff of twelve servants who had already unpacked his three trunks of tea, novels, and silk bathrobes.

Yet none of it brought him peace.

Because hovering directly before his face, glowing with absolute, blinding, high-definition silver insolence, was his System interface.

And it had updated.

[ STATUS OVERVIEW ]

Name: Lucien Alaric Everhart

Age: 20 Class: [LOCKED]

[REPUTATION INDEX]

Imperial Academy Standing: [Profoundly Mysterious Philosopher]

Hero Party Interest Level: [EXTREME / OBSESSIVE]

Student Council Surveillance: [ACTIVE]

Underground Broadsheet Status: [FRONT PAGE FEATURE]

[NARRATIVE ENTANGLEMENT]

Target: Cassian Valemont (Bond Status: Unspoken Spiritual Kinship)

Target: Silas Nightingale (Bond Status: Predatory Romantic Intrigue)

Target: Lyra Veyne (Bond Status: Vivisection Priority Alpha)

Target: Seraphina Vale (Bond Status: Aggressive Domestic Matching)

Target: Garrick Stone (Bond Status: Culinary Comrade)

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

「Congratulations, Host!」

「By attempting to avoid the plot through philosophical deflection, you have successfully captured the undivided, fascinated attention of the entire elite student hierarchy!」

「Countdown to Imperial Awakening Ceremony: 6 Days.」

「Warning: The Grand Astral Orb is currently anticipating your soul with great, unholy curiosity.」

Lucien stared at the floating words.

He stared at [Bond Status: Predatory Romantic Intrigue].

He stared at [Bond Status: Vivisection Priority Alpha].

He reached slowly into his coat pocket, pulled out his little jar of strawberry glaze, unscrewed the lid with a hollow click, stuck his entire index finger into the sticky red jam, shoved it into his mouth, and closed his eyes.

”I hate this world,” Lucien said through a mouthful of jam, staring blankly at the ornate plaster molding of the ceiling. ”I hate the protagonist. I hate his weird, degenerate friends. I hate the Grand Astral Orb. And if anyone knocks on that front door in the next six days, I am going to feed them to Elara.”

From the next room, the sudden sound of a decorative flower pot shattering into freezing ice crystals echoed through the villa, followed by Caelan’s thunderous roar:

”LUCIEN! THE GUILD BROADSHEET JUST CAME OUT! WHY DOES IT SAY YOU BROKE CASSIAN VALEMONT’S HEART IN THE PLAZA?!”