The echo of Elara's words, "Be careful in there, Leon," lingered in my mind long after her silver-haired form had disappeared. They were a warning and a validation. I was in the lion's den, and the sharpest lions were starting to notice the mouse that didn't act like prey.
The next few days in the Vanguard were a study in controlled tension. Lieutenant Valeriana's training intensified, specifically for me. She had me sparring not just with Kael, but with other recruits—a swift dagger-wielder with [Shadow Step (D-Rank)], a hulking brute with [Earth Shield (C-Rank)]. Each fight was a data-gathering mission for her, and a brutal test of my acting skills and my evolving [Analytical Combat Sight] for me.
I lost. Every single time. But I lost better. I'd last a few seconds longer, my dodges became a fraction more efficient, and my perfectly-timed, non-mana-assisted "form breaks" became more frequent. I was painting a picture of a combat genius trapped in a crippled body, and Valeriana was buying the masterpiece, her notes growing more extensive with each session.
My real work happened in the silence. The replication of [Cellular Empathy (A-Rank)] finally ticked over to 1%. The effect was immediate and subtle. A faint, steady warmth now resided in my core, a biological furnace that was slowly, imperceptibly increasing my base stamina and recovery rate. I was still F-Rank, but I was no longer at the absolute bottom.
The skills I'd copied from items continued their glacial progress. [Drake's Vitality (B-Rank)] was at 0.3%. It felt like a layer of invisible, resilient scales slowly forming under my skin. [Ember of Rebirth (S-Rank)] was a mere 0.005%, a dormant star of potential buried deep within my soul.
But the most significant development was the [Mana Core Circuit]. It reached 2%.
The change was not in power, but in stability. The hairline crack from my forced use of [Spatial Slash] had been mended. The agonizing mana backlash was now a stark warning in my memory, but the fear was tempered by the knowledge that my foundation was growing stronger. I could feel it, a delicate, glowing lattice around my core, a custom-built highway for the power that was yet to come.
It was during a logistics shift, while I was "clumsily" organizing a crate of freshly harvested Gloom-Bat wings, that the summons came.
"Grey. Lieutenant's office. Now," a guard grunted from the warehouse entrance.
A cold knot tightened in my stomach. This was it. Had I slipped up? Had Valeriana's probes finally found something?
Her office was as Spartan as the rest of the compound. A metal desk, a data-slate, and a large window overlooking the training yard. She didn't look up as I entered, her focus on the slate.
"Close the door."
I did, the mechanism clicking shut with a sound of finality.
"You've been here for two weeks, Grey," she began, her voice flat. "Your physical metrics are stagnant. F-Rank. Your mana pool is a puddle. But your performance in reaction-based drills is in the high C-Rank percentile. Your 'intuitive form execution' is... unprecedented." She finally looked up, her flinty eyes pinning me. "The anomaly is real. But is it useful?"
She stood and walked to the window, gazing down at the recruits. "The Vanguard has a task. A C-Rank dungeon, 'The Whispering Chasm,' has shown anomalous energy spikes. Standard scout teams have reported... inconsistencies. We're sending a probe team. Low-risk, high-observation. And you're going with them."
My blood ran cold. A dungeon. A real one, with real, lethal monsters. My F-Rank body would be mincemeat in a direct confrontation.
"Lieutenant, I'm an F-Rank. I'll be a liability," I protested, the fear in my voice genuine.
"That's exactly why you're going," she countered, turning to face me. "The team will be led by a seasoned B-Rank Vanguard. The other members will be Kael and Jax." She must have seen the flicker of dread in my eyes at Jax's name. "They are the muscle and the active skill. You are the sensor. Your 'gut feeling' for mana fluctuations and your combat intuition are the primary assets for this mission. Your job is to observe, to sense the anomalies, and to report. Nothing more."
This was a crucible. A forced evolution. She was throwing me into the fire to see if the anomaly would break or crystallize into something valuable. The suspense was paralyzing. This was no longer a controlled training yard. This was life and death.
"The team departs at dawn tomorrow," she said, dismissing me. "Dismissed."
I walked out of her office in a daze. This changed everything. I was being given a front-row seat to a live dungeon, a place teeming with new skills to copy, new biological traits to absorb. But it was also a place where my secret could be violently exposed, or where I could simply die.
I spent the rest of the day in a state of heightened awareness. My [Eye of the Mimic] was a silent vortex, passively sucking in every skill I encountered, from the [Advanced Tracking (B-Rank)] of the team leader I briefly saw, to the [Poison Resistance (D-Rank)] of an alchemist preparing antidotes.
That night, in the barracks, I couldn't sleep. I focused inward, on my one fully matured and evolved skill. I had made my choice.
[Fist of the Boulder (C-Rank) has been evolved.]
[New Skill: Avalanche Rush (B-Rank)]
Passive Effect: User's understanding of kinetic force and successive impact is perfected. When activated, allows for a rapid sequence of strikes where each hit carries the momentum of the last.
Status: Dormant (Requires Mana Core Circuit completion >5% for safe activation.)
A B-Rank skill. It was mine, fully understood, waiting for the day my body could handle it. It was a promise of power, a light at the end of the tunnel.
The sound of footsteps approached my bunk. I opened my eyes to see Kael standing there, his expression grim.
"Look, Leon," he said, his voice low. "About the dungeon tomorrow. Stick close to me. Jax... he's been bragging. He thinks this is his chance to prove he's better than an 'anomaly.' He might try to... create a situation."
The internal conflict within the team was now out in the open. Jax's resentment was a tangible threat, as real as any dungeon monster.
"I understand," I said. "Thanks, Kael."
He nodded and moved away.
As dawn approached, I stood with the team at the main gate. The leader, a grizzled man named Corvus with a grim demeanor and a [Gravity Well (B-Rank)] aura, did a final equipment check. Jax was smirking, cracking his knuckles, his [Brawler's Resilience (D-Rank)] aura flaring with anticipation. Kael looked tense.
I looked... like an F-Rank. I had no armor, just standard-issue durable clothing. I carried a basic pack with rations and a data-scanner. I was the civilian in a group of soldiers.
Corvus's eyes fell on me. "You. The sensor. You sense anything weird, you point. You don't touch, you don't fight, you don't wander. You are a tool. Understood?"
"Understood, sir," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm inside.
The gate to the outside world opened, revealing the transport that would take us to the dungeon entrance. The Whispering Chasm awaited, a mouth of stone and shadow ready to swallow us whole.
The phantom was being sent into the dark. It was time to see if he could survive, observe, and continue his silent ascent, or if the crucible would be his end. The road to lordhood had just taken a sharp, dangerous turn into the unknown.