Standing by the window, the weight of the new clothes felt different—not just because of the fine fabric but because of the visual statement that they were conveying to the world.
I learned enough semiotics and about the importance of symbolish from making political and historical videos for my channel as well as from subscribers in past life.
The golden color of my outfit was a clever, subtle play by my parents. To a casual observer, it looked like the celebration of wealth. But to the political hyenas downstairs, it was a trick. By wearing the same color, which represented a specific section of a pentacle, we clearly conveyed that House Hatar's "soul" was not for sale to anybody. I didn't know if I was overthinking or underestimating the political situation at that time.
The right side had our crest, which defined our history, and the left side had our colorless pentacle, showing our political stance. There was no need for us to display both, as our crest already had a pentacle in it.
Even a person with a small interest in politics could understand that they were deliberately added to the clothes, as adding a pentacle to the crest was the minimum requirement. My mom and father only had our crest. I looked at my two new rings, similar to my parents' but small in size, as they were made for me. I always wanted these rings because they intrigued me, but presently, they felt very heavy to me.
The colorless pentacle showed the influence of dragons as well as nagas on this kingdom, which could be seen in the design itself. The circle represented the dragons, and 10 vertices of a pentagram, which could clearly be seen on close inspection of the ring, represented the nagas who created the Nag system.
It clearly showed the importance of both the magical and non-magical sides of the world.
The past few days were tough on me, both mentally and physically. In the bustle of many people who had gathered for my birthday preparations, I tested my control over my body. I was pleased with the results from the hardware of this world. It all started when I tried to hear the conversations between guards and staff and between both. My presence near them most of the time encouraged or reminded them to talk about me or my family from their childhood to their current circumstances.
As a scholar of my anatomy, the knowledge from the womb during my creation had helped me cultivate and discover my abilities that were impossible in my past world. The main factor was the adult mind of mine; it was my greatest strength and weakness if someone found out.
I could make out the carriage approaching our mansion from a distance a normal guard could not, based on my experiments, though I couldn't yet make out the fine details. I achieved this by consciously controlling the curvature of my eye's lens and the dilation of my pupils.
I could hear the sounds and frequencies beyond the typical normal range by concentrating and impacting the mechanism of hearing. While many vibrations reached the ear, it was the brain that interpreted them. Having my brain work this hard was exhausting, but it had allowed me to overhear vital conversations between servants and guards, because of which I got to know about my family's history and basic ideas about our current situation.
My sense of smell was also far more powerful. If I really focused, then after analysis of a scent, I could deduce where a person had been, what they had done, and whom they had encountered. I once caught the odor of pastries, fruits, and the distinct sweat from a specific guard, which I later detected on one of the maids who carried the heavy odor of sweat different from her hard labor. It took me some time and practice to distinguish a person's "true" scent from the hundreds of environmental smells. After all, I wasn't born a dog.
My sense of taste had also evolved; I became a supertaster. Taste depends on a complex interplay of taste buds, nerves, and smell. I could clearly distinguish the basic tastes—sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and savory—as well as the recently identified taste, fat. I hoped to eventually experience pungency, numbness, starchiness, and astringency. Fortunately, this sense required the least mental energy compared to the others.
Regarding touch, I tried to perceive as much as possible, from making sense of changes in air pressure, temperature, and vibrations to both fine and crude touch. So far, this had proven to be the most mentally taxing feat of all.
Mental exhaustion wasn't the only challenge; after using these abilities, I suffered from sensory overload and cognitive burnout, which required time to return my body to its normal state. On top of all this, it required calories as well.
Meditation helped me in recovery from this depleted mental state.
Beyond meditation, I monitored myself for overload and attempted to identify my triggers. I was gradually increasing the duration and intensity of these exercises at a safe pace, ensuring I stayed within my energy limits.
Another notable observation reflecting the extent of my bodily control was the quantity and quality of my waste. I could faintly influence my digestion to break down food more effectively. I maximized nutrient absorption with an efficiency that was already visible in my growth. I tried not to overexert this control, as one attempt led to diarrhea and another caused severe constipation. I truly hated the taste of the medicine I had to take as a result.
All my other bodily movements, such as coordination, balance, and so on, had already made great progress thanks to my training with my father.
Thus far, I had not reached a bottleneck. Although I felt that my current "hardware," specifically my brain, was somewhat not fully prepared for the "software," there was little I could do but wait, a hard lesson learned from my past life. As the old proverb from my previous world says, "Slow and steady wins the race."
As the carriage finally pulled into the courtyard, I adjusted my colorless pentacle and took a deep breath. My body was optimized; my senses were sharp. I looked at the carriage—it had two separate compartments and was heavily guarded.
A messenger arrived just a few minutes earlier from the group and passed a sealed envelope to the guard. The carriage bore an insignia showing a circle and a full-fledged tree with ten branches and roots brimming with life—the mark of the organization to which he belonged. I felt a slight wave of nervousness as his face came to mind. He was one of the people I saw when I was born into this world, and I knew he would surely return. However, I was more interested in the second person who had come with him. The door to the room opened, but my gaze remained fixed on the carriage.
Mother entered the room with a look of worry on her face. She took me in her arms and started moving toward the front gate. Father was already there, an aura of authority exuding from his body, but I could see that he was also tense. This only increased my curiosity.
A figure stepped out from one of the compartments. It was the "Old Man," Healer Kal, but he wasn't alone. Beside him was a woman dressed in purple; she bore a triangle enclosed by a circle, but the circle was not continuous—it was made of ten distinct, equal-sized arcs. Healer Kal cleared his throat, his eyes darting to my colorless pentacle. "Zeni, Sama... this is Lady Auri Cle. She is adept in the training of the Goddess Ava, from the Celestica of the city."
"We met in Lance City; she wanted to meet one of the 'Iron Grunt's Witnesses' in person," Healer Kal explained, his voice straining under the tension. Beads of sweat broke on his forehead.
Lady Auri Cle stepped forward, the silk of her purple robes whispering against the stone of the courtyard. Every eye was on her, but her gaze was a physical weight, anchored solely on me. She did not offer a traditional greeting. Instead, she came to a halt exactly three paces from my mother, her posture as rigid and precise as the ten arcs on her crest. When she spoke, her voice wasn't the airy tone of a priestess; it was a clear, resonant frequency that seemed to vibrate in the fluid of my inner ear.
"That was the primary reason, until I learned about your son, Berserker Hunter—Sama Hatar," Lady Auri Cle said.
My father's mouth twitched slightly at the mention of the title. Mother's expression turned grave, while I maintained my best "baby face." Healer Kal looked puzzled for a split second before his expression became stoic, but I caught the slip.
"When Healer Kal mentioned to Sir Cane—who was traveling to check for mana aptitude—that he had missed the chance to observe a natural-born baby from a patient with mana-channel burns, I decided to come in his stead. You are a very cute little fella," Lady Auri added, her last line directed straight at me.
This information shifted the atmosphere instantly. Healer Kal looked stupefied; my father's rising anger was almost palpable, yet he maintained composure, and though I couldn't see my mother's face, I could feel her breathing quicken and heartbeat increase. Despite the pressure, I remained fixed on the lady in front of me, maintaining my poker-faced baby facade.
The tension in the courtyard was thick enough to choke on. My mind was running a rapid assessment: Lady Auri Cle wasn't just a guest.
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