After a short while, Asher regained awareness over his surroundings and discovered that from his shins down were inside water. The water was pure and untainted, but what was more puzzling was that some droplets still fell from the ceiling!
This marveled him.
This sort of battle art was almost nonexistent in all human domains. Battle force arts build a connection of elemental meridians. The warrior could choose the nodes at his lungs, and he would practice wind elemental battle force but wouldn’t be able to control the wind like a mage.
For the Ashbournes, their art diagram was the nodes of the heart, meaning their element is the blood element, but it did not mean they could control blood outside their bodies without a breakthrough in battle instincts.
But, looking at the flooded dungeon, Asher knew Atticus Ashbourne must have gotten such art from the desolatelands, but how he was able to start training another art and not damage his internal system puzzled Asher.
“Your Lordship, are you alright?”
Kelvin moved through the water toward Asher.
“I guess I am.”
The words that left Asher’s mouth and his bloodied state did not match, and worry remained in the eyes of his subordinates.
“We need to tend to your wounds, Your Lordship. You passed the test.”
Asher’s lips twitched when he heard Kelvin say that. According to Atticus, he failed the test, but Asher knew he would always fail the test because the moment he bled, even without seeing it, he would surely enter beast mode.
Maybe there was a way to control his switch in the future.
At this moment, the pain from all the cuts came at once, causing Asher to grimace.
With a loud groan, he bent his body and began to breathe heavily. His face became crimson as if it were filled with blood.
“Get the physician now!”
Alex dashed out while Eritrea and Kelvin helped Asher out of the dungeon with Alec behind them.
When they reached the stairs, Alex had to carry Asher until the third floor, where Asher’s room was.
The castle entered a state of emergency all because of Kelvin’s constant orders that never seemed to have an end even after the physician came.
The next day, Asher sat on his bed reading Silverleaf’s reports. Since he wasn’t able to move much, Kelvin kept him busy with dealing with the stronghold’s daily affairs.
Knock!
“Your Lordship?”
Knowing it was Kelvin, Asher allowed him in, and the white-haired man clad in his butler attire walked in with a tray.
He approached Asher and dropped the tray on a wooden stool beside the bed. Asher took the cup filled with Moonlit Starhorn milk, which he had gotten slightly addicted to, and took a few sips.
The soothing warm sensation had vanished since last month, but he still enjoyed the taste. The milk was truly amazing.
“Where did you find Cynthia?”
He suddenly asked.
“Her grandmother is the head of the farmers, so I found her in your fields. Her looks were rough then but better than most of her peers, so I began to prepare her after Mary’s identity was revealed.”
Asher looked at Kelvin.
“To make her look so like she came from the high plains, you must have fed her with the best of our yields.”
“I did. Your personal maid must be acceptable to her lord. Or isn’t she acceptable?”
Asher chuckled softly and looked out the window. .
“She does look pleasing to the eyes.”
“Then I have done my job well.”
Asher raised both eyebrows. “I found out that my brothers had affairs with their personal maids.”
Kelvin adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat but did not speak.
“I won’t sire heirs with her.”
Asher said in the next moment. He turned to Kelvin, who remained silent and cocked his head.
“You don’t seem convinced.”
“Well, I don’t because your father said something similar and he impregnated three personal maids in a row and had them moved to Hebron City in the Flameheart territory and brother, Thomas did the same.”
“Ah, I see.”
Kelvin smiled, and Asher also looked at him and smiled, then began to chuckle.
“Cynthia is a special maid. Her looks are not what qualified her to be your personal maid and the second in charge of the servants, but her talent.”
A glow flashed through Asher’s eyes.
“She has talent?!”
Kelvin nodded.
“She does. She’s able to move things with a thought.”
‘Telekinesis!’
Asher trembled. He couldn’t believe that he was looking at Cynthia with a flawed mindset and didn’t think about checking her panel.
“She’ll be able to do better than those without talents.”
Kelvin said.
“How old is she?”
Asher asked with interest in his tone.
“27 years old.”
Right at that moment, someone knocked on the door.
Knock!
“Your Lordship, your breakfast is ready.”
A female voice fell into their ears.
“Bring it in.”
Upon receiving Asher’s response, Cynthia brought the meal into the room and bowed to Asher.
Then she nodded to Kelvin.
“Sir Kelvin.” She said respectfully.
[Name: Cynthia
Age: 27
Rank: Iron
Talent: Telekinesis (D)
Job: Baron’s Personal maidservant
Loyalty: 100]
[Talent description: With this talent, an individual will be able to move objects with their minds.]
Cynthia’s talent being of D grade did not mean Telekinesis was of the group of D grades, but the grade in which Cynthia awakened was a weaker version.
[Ding! After months of dedication to being a perfect maid, Cynthia has fulfilled a special criteria, and her years of toiling under the sun in fields have also fulfilled another criteria. She is now available for an upgrade.]
[Would you like to double upgrade your iron-ranked maid, Cynthia, to become a silver-ranked housekeeper? Yes or No?]
‘Yes.’
Swoosh!
A blinding light instantly formed a cocoon with Cynthia inside. A few seconds later, the light vanished and a woman with healthy pale skin, locks of silky blonde hair cascaded down to her waist, and her attire changed.
From common maid attire to one fitting of a housekeeper. Over her white tunic was a brown leather sleeveless vest high with a V-shaped end.
Her black skirt flowed down to her feet but didn’t cover her black leather boots completely.
She looked neat, elegant, and smart.
“Your Lordship.”
Her tone had control, and her eyes were filled with knowledge and experience.
…..…..
Far away from Nineveh, a rotund man caressed his short beards as he stood in the balcony of his manor looking at the snow atop the roof of the houses that spread far.
This was Hebron City!
The wealthiest city ruled by a baron in the wasteland.
“Lord Flameheart, we shall journey to the Ashbourne territory tomorrow.”
A voice came from behind.
“Good.” Claude Flameheart replied and waved for the individual to leave.
“What happened to that cripple?” Claude muttered to himself as he looked at the clouds.
