Rhys felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He was not just an Apprentice Formation Master; he was an apprentice with a tyrant-quality profession core!
The power he now held was far beyond anything even an Artisan could ever dream of.
Elder Solon was staring at him, the old man's face a mask of pure, unfiltered shock. He had expected the process to take hours, maybe even days.
He had expected Rhys to struggle, to be in great pain from the chaotic energy of the Tyrant Core. He had been ready to intervene, to use his own power to help stabilize the chaotic energy.
But the young boy had absorbed the Tyrant Core in less than a minute. The most infuriating thing was that he had done it with no struggle at all.
Elder Solon remembered absorbing his own Boss Core in his mid-forties. Thinking about that pain, he shivered.
The boy in front of him was not just a genius. He was a monster. A monster who devoured power like it was simple food.
