Isaac followed Professor Catherine outside. Leora trailed behind them.
The afternoon sun hung high, casting sharp shadows across the cleared field.
The giant robot from the morning stood parked nearby. Its flatbed was empty except for a small, locked case that Catherine carried with a faint grin.
“After a proper discussion, the university’s Grand Council decided to train you into a special combat. The ones that suits you”
Professor Catherine pulled out three small pouches from the case.
They were tied with a colored cord: red, blue, and black.
She untied the red cord first, revealing tiny seeds flecked with crimson.
“These are Dreadbloom seeds. Their flowers release a gas that triggers intense fear. It makes even the toughest fighters freeze or run screaming.”
She moved to the blue pouch, spilling out seeds with a faint shimmer.
“Miragepetal seeds. The gas released by flowers of this causes hallucinations, vivid enough to trick anyone into fighting shadows or worse.”
Finally, she opened the black pouch, showing glossy seeds that seemed to absorb light.
“And these are Viperthorn seeds. Their gas is pure poison, and its as lethal as Drake Viper’s Kiss.”
“Poison flowers. They would have an incredible synergy with my skills.”
“Exactly,” Catherine said, tying the pouches back up. “Let’s test them with your skills. But first—”
She reached into her coat’s inner pocket, pulling out three sleek masks, each a dull gray with a curved filter over the mouth.
“Put these on. This will block the gas so we don’t end up poisoned ourselves.”
Isaac took one, slipping it over his face.
It fit snugly, the filter cool against his lips.
Leora and Catherine did the same.
“Now,” Catherine said, voice slightly muffled, “don’t plant the seeds properly yet. Just toss them on the ground. We’re testing how your skills work with these.”
“…?”
“Your Seed of Providence skill’s passive doubles growth speed for plants you plant, and the active effect of your skill, Sovereign of Land, boosts it five times. Ten times total. It will make the poison flowers bloom quickly.
“But in a fight you won’t have time to plant these seeds, and your skills work only when the seeds that are planted.
“So, we are testing what is counted as ‘planting’.”
Isaac nodded, and grabbed a Dreadbloom seed from the red pouch before flicking it onto the soil.
It landed with a soft thud, sitting there unchanged. He frowned, glancing at Catherine.
“Nothing’s happening.”
“Figured as much. Now push the seeds it into the ground, just a little. Rub them in with your boot.”
Isaac pressed the seeds into the dirt with the toe of his boot, grinding it down until it sank slightly.
Then he activated Sovereign of Land, mana surging through him.
A faint connection snapped into place. an area about five meters square around him, tingling with energy.
The ground shivered, and in under a minute, a small, twisted flower sprouted, its red petals unfurling.
A thin mist seeped out, curling in the air.
Catherine pulled a handheld device from her belt. It was a square scanner with a glowing screen.
She waved it over the flower, then checked the readings.
“The fear gas is 40% stronger than standard Dreadbloom output. As expected, the quality was amped up by your skills.”
Isaac tested the others.
A Miragepetal seed went in next.
Blue petals bloomed, releasing a shimmering haze.
Catherine’s scanner beeped.
“Judging by the amount, it can create 40% stronger hallucinations than the normal Miragepetals.”
The Viperthorn seed followed, sprouting black thorns that oozed a sickly green vapor.
“Viperthorn,” she confirmed. “It’s also roughly 40% more potent, and lethal in half the time.”
Catherine handed Isaac the pouches. It had 20 seeds of each poison flower.
“Use them sparingly. They’re expensive. One’s enough to drop a Level 20 Adept-rank awakener if you time it right.”
Isaac took them, and stored them them into the spatial ring, the Vice Principal Eleanor gave him days ago.
“You might not know it, but that’s a Mystic-grade treasure, same rank as your Deathwood Guardian from Lucian. Spatial storage is rare. Any relic with it doesn’t is Mystic-grade,” Professor Catherine told him.
“Oh, I actually didn’t know that.”
“Speaking of Lucian, why haven’t you used the Deathwood Guardian yet? Last night, assassins hit this place. Leora handled it, but it woke her up at midnight to clean up five of them. That guardian could’ve saved her the trouble.”
Isaac kept his face steady, though the news hit him like a punch.
Assassins here, while he slept.
It made him realize that not everyone appreciated his Talent.
“I didn’t know about the assassins,” he said evenly. “As for the Deathwood Guardian, I’ve got an idea to boost the it’s ability. I’ll try out my plan after class.”
Catherine studied his expression.
His calm, confident tone told her he wasn’t bluffing. He had something in mind.
“Alright. Let’s see this last one then.”
She reached into the case, pulling out a final seed.
It was larger than the seeds prior, round like a Core, with a rough, bark-like surface that pulsed faintly with green light.
“What’s that?” Isaac asked, leaning in.
“Plant-type Genetic Catalyst. It came from the Tyrant Verdant Treant. Fifty years ago, it led a monster wave that nearly leveled our city. It took every fighter the city had to bring it down. This seed’s what was left.”
Leora shifted slightly at the side, uncomfortable. Isaac noticed her reaction, but he kept quiet.
“Our scans showed this Genetic Catalyst is a ‘seed’, a dormant one. We’ve tried planting it, however nothing happened.
“We also took it to the city’s B-rank Farmer, and even he couldn’t do anything with it.
“If you can use it, Isaac, it’s yours. If not, we will take it back.”
Isaac took the seed, and planted it.
He focused, channeling Seed of Providence.
Mana poured out, and sunk into the Genetic Catalyst.
The ground trembled, and a shape erupted from the soil.
A Treant, towering at eight feet.
Its bark was dark and gnarled, branches thick with jagged leaves, and an heavy oppressive aura rolled off it.
Catherine froze, her hand twitching toward a weapon.
Leora snapped into action, sword half-drawn, stance low and ready.
But the Treant ignored them.
It bent forward, branches creaking, and it bowed silently to Isaac.