Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

With that thought, Greg gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes, and tilted his head back, downing half the bowl of medicine in one go.

It didn't taste as bad as he had anticipated; despite its off-putting smell, the medicine was virtually tasteless, much like a bowl of warm water.

Smacking his lips, Greg touched his beard, sensing something amiss.

"Vivia, how come this medicine doesn't taste like anything?"

"What, you miss the weird taste? If you'd like, I can make some for you, as much as you want!" Vivia glanced over at him, her hands skillfully tying up the braid, "There, how does it look?"

Jelia turned to look at herself in the mirror, a smile appearing on her face: "This braid is really pretty, thank you, Sister Vivia."

"It's still not as good as Howard's, though. I wonder how a man managed to acquire such skill." Vivia sighed, thinking of Howard's proficient movements.

It's hard to develop such dexterity without years of practice braiding hair.

Having someone else braid your hair is quite an intimate gesture among girls.

Unless they're sisters, the only other role Howard could have practiced on was clear!

"Sister, Howard won't be in any danger, will he?" Jelia suddenly looked up and asked.

"No, he won't." Vivia gently touched Jelia's small face.

After days of care, the little orc's complexion had improved significantly.

Though still thin and small, her spirit seemed much brighter.

"Don't underestimate your brother Howard; he's a level 3 magus, after all."

Moreover, since the last time Howard disappeared and reappeared, Vivia could vaguely sense a significant change in him.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly what the change was, nor could she judge whether it was good or bad, but one thing she was certain of: Howard seemed more confident and composed than before, suggesting he might have grown stronger.

"If you ask me, Antalya taking me along would be worth both of them combined!"

Greg, having finished his medicine, dragged a stool closer to the fireplace.

He awkwardly stretched his hands towards the fire, all the while cautiously guarding his beard from the flames.

Vivia snorted, "The injured should keep quiet! Your strength isn't stable right now; you might not be as reliable as those two on the battlefield."

Greg pouted, left without a comeback.

Although he had awakened from his coma and his body hadn't suffered any damage, the coma wasn't without consequences.

The most direct impact was a decline in his control over his own mana; currently, his precision in controlling mana was at best seventy percent of what it had been.

The thirty percent gap in control meant a significant difference in combat ability—one of him from before could take on two of him now.

And that wasn't even the worst part.

The more troubling issue was the change in his soul due to the unexplained coma.

The specific nature of this change was still undetectable, but one clear consequence was that his mana supply had become unstable.

Mana is intimately connected to the soul.contemporary romance

The changes in Greg's soul have made his ability to gather mana unstable.

While there are moments when it spikes, there are also times when it drastically drops.

This alteration manifests externally as unpredictable fluctuations in mana flux.

Perhaps one moment he could perform beyond expectations, but the next, he might find himself unable to summon mana at all.

Such inconsistency is a fatal flaw in combat.

Therefore, Greg could only wait in the inn, waiting for Antalya to find a solution or for the quest to end so they could return to Breeze City and seek a remedy.

Without resolving this issue, Greg's combat days might be over for the rest of his life.

Although Greg himself isn't particularly keen on fighting, the loss of a mature combatant is undeniably a heavy blow for the adventure group, which is already on the brink of disbanding.

"I'm going out for a walk," Greg said, picking up his weapon-packed backpack and heading towards the door.

"You're not thinking of sneaking off to the battlefield, are you?"

Vivia watched him warily, her presence in the inn meant to prevent any unforeseen circumstances, given her lack of combat abilities.

"No, I'm well aware of my current condition; I wouldn't do something like that," Greg waved off the concern, placing his hand on the door.

In the moment before he applied force to open it, Greg heard footsteps halt outside the door.

Time seemed to freeze at that instant.

Even through the wooden barrier, Greg could distinctly feel the silent, lurking aura of menace on the other side.

"Take cover! Ambush!"

As he shouted the warning, Greg forcefully pushed off the door with his left hand while his right hand reached for the backpack on his back, his body retreating rapidly.

His loud cry put everyone on edge.

Just as Greg's hand left the wooden door, it shattered explosively.

Amidst the flying splinters, Greg saw a rod-like object whistling maliciously, tracing an arc straight for his face.

The attacker clearly knew his height; otherwise, their strike should have been aimed higher.

With its current trajectory, if Greg were of average human height, the blow would at most reach his waist—easily avoidable and hardly capable of causing any real damage.

Greg continued with the momentum, while mana detached from his body to form a small leverage point in mid-air, allowing him to dodge the attack while drawing out his Crusher from the back.

Every expression on his face condensed into a silent rage, like a candle flame quietly burning with an intent not to cease until everything was consumed.

He knew who was behind the door.

Only someone familiar with them or who had conducted prior research could accurately judge his height.

The preemptive strike, even before a face-to-face confrontation, indicated an intense animosity towards them.

Considering these factors, there was no need to guess the identity of the enemy outside.

"Soma!"

Greg's voice was almost squeezed out through clenched teeth, his mana explosively unleashed.

His body shot diagonally upwards like a cannonball, with the Crusher, driven by immense arm strength and mana, pulverizing the air inch by inch, aimed directly at the position of Soma's head!

The hammer swung through the air without the sensation of impact.

With the motion of the swing propelling Greg forward, he burst out the door.

Soma, having shattered the wooden barrier in a single strike, retreated just in time to avoid Greg's counterattack.

He had anticipated Greg's reaction down to the last detail.

Inside the room, Vivia reacted the moment Greg raised the alarm, grabbing the bewildered Jelia and rushing further inside.

They were only on the third floor; even a leap from this height might not result in injury.

However, with adversaries likely positioned along the corridor, Vivia, with virtually no combat capability, couldn't possibly charge out with Jelia in tow.

As they sought cover, Vivia caught a glimpse of Greg swinging his hammer into empty air as he charged out the door.

Hidden behind the gap under the bed, Vivia saw a tall man flash by the doorway.

Those grey-blue eyes met hers for a mere instant, revealing nothing within.

Anger? Hatred?

Absent.

It was like peering into an empty well, from which only a cold breeze carrying a hint of blood emerged.

The tall figure at the door flashed by, and the brief eye contact was hurriedly concluded.

Vivia noticed the oddly shaped longsword in the man's hand, its serrated blade at least a third longer than a typical longsword, and its spine notably thicker.

Clearly, wielding such a longsword would not be easy, yet in that moment, it seemed weightless in the man's grasp.

This suggested the man might be a magus.

No matter how much a regular person trains, achieving such effortless grace is nearly impossible.

Vivia didn't recognize the man, but his face was etched into her memory.

It was unforgettable, marked by a large scar that twisted into a semblance of a cold smirk - a feature few could overlook.

The man had left, clearly in pursuit of Greg, yet Vivia couldn't relax just yet.

If the assailant was aware of Greg's presence, it stood to reason he knew of her and Jelia's as well.

His departure was too swift; Greg's exit was meant to draw danger away from them, and the man had followed almost without hesitation.

If his target wasn't solely Greg, it meant there could be more attackers on their way.

Vivia wasn't willing to bet on the former possibility; such wishful thinking had cost too many lives.

Her best course of action was to take initiative.

Regardless of whether the enemy had reinforcements, leaving was the safest option.

"Jelia, stay quiet. I'm going to get us out of here," Vivia whispered, hugging the small, thin Jelia tightly, drawing courage from the warmth of her embrace.

Fear often takes a backseat when there are things of greater importance, sparking courage within.

Calming her breathing, Vivia handed Jelia a small vial.

"If, and I mean if, you have to act alone, break this vial! It's a basic invisibility potion. It simply makes you invisible and lasts only for a quarter of an hour. You must find a safe place to hide before it wears off, then wait for Howard to find you. He will never give up on you!"

Jelia looked up into Vivia's face, not saying a word, but firmly gripping the potion.

done.co