When Desmond stepped into the church, the soft morning light filtered through the intricately designed stained glass windows, casting a mosaic of vibrant colors upon the scene. The sisters, clad in their flowing grey robes, diligently worked to clean the sacred space, their cleaning tools producing rhythmic wiping sounds that echoed through the chamber. The arrival of Desmond's family drew curious gazes from the sisters, momentarily breaking their concentration.
"Good morning, Sister Liliana," greeted one of the sisters as she approached them. Her fair skin peeked out from the loose sleeves of her robe, a stark contrast against the muted tones.
"Good morning, Sister Sistine," replied Liliana with a gentle smile. "We have guests here. Please guide them the rest of the way. I still have some tasks to attend to," she added, her gaze briefly lingering on Desmond, her expression revealing a hint of longing.
Liliana didn't even spare a glance at Bastian, afraid that acknowledging him might disrupt the serene ambiance that enveloped the church.
Sister Sistine turned her attention towards Liliana and noticed an adorable, cherubic baby nestled in Leona's arms. "Oh my, come here, you handsome little one," she cooed, her voice a soft melody as she focused on Desmond.
Unlike Liliana, Sistine had been granted permission by Leona to hold Desmond. With gentle steps, she carried him towards the center of the room, approaching a peculiar stone that commanded attention.
The stone resembled a podium, its surface adorned with a large, clear crystal embedded at the top. Its black-blue hue exuded an air of antiquity, enhanced by the ethereal morning light.
"Mr. Handsome, please place your hand upon this stone," Sistine requested, smiling warmly as she met Desmond's innocent gaze, briefly seeking Leona's approval.
Upon receiving a nod from Leona, Sistine tenderly guided Desmond's small, smooth hand to rest upon the magical crystal embedded within the stone. However, as she made the attempt, she sensed a subtle resistance from Desmond.
Simultaneously, Desmond found himself instinctively retracting his hand, awaiting the system's scan of the stone.
[Scanning the target...]
[Scan Complete!]
[Name: Identification Stone
Grade: Uncommon
Information: This stone is used to identify traits and display basic info.]
Upon realizing that the stone was merely an ordinary identification tool, Desmond relinquished his guarded stance, causing Sistine to audibly exhale, her relief palpable. She had genuinely feared the possibility of inadvertently harming Desmond's delicate hand.
As soon as Desmond's hand made contact with the crystal, a radiant white light engulfed the entirety of the stone. Concurrently, a transparent screen materialized before his eyes, displaying vital information.
[ALERT! | A spell has been cast on the host's body.]
[Terminate? Y/N]
Desmond felt a surge of confusion. His gaze darted back and forth between the now gentle glow emanating from the stone and the transparent system prompt that had materialized before him.
Um... yes? Desmond responded hesitantly, uncertainty creeping into his voice. He remained unsure of the potential danger, but if the system deemed the stone as a potential threat, it was better to err on the side of caution.
{Name: ???
Gender: ???
Age: ???
Race: ???
Class: ???
Occupation: ???
Trait: ???}
As Desmond selected "yes," the luminescence of the stone dimmed, and an additional screen materialized in front of him. Hovering in the air, it connected seamlessly with the crystal, its interface less intricate compared to the comprehensive system he was accustomed to.
"Eh? What's happening?" Sistine's brows furrowed in confusion as she glimpsed at Desmond's cryptic stats displayed on the plain wooden hovering board. The lack of specific information, with numerous question marks, caught her off guard.
Casting a glance back at Desmond's family, she observed a group of ordinary humans, their expressions reflecting their humanness without any hint of peculiarity.
"Could the stone be malfunctioning?" Sistine murmured under her breath, her voice barely audible.
Meanwhile, the rest of Desmond's family anxiously awaited Sistine's response. Their gazes shifted to her as they noticed the enigmatic status displayed for Desmond.
"What's wrong, sister?" Leona, concerned as a mother, hurried over and examined the stone along with her son's baffling stats.
"It seems the stone is experiencing some malfunction. It's an old artifact, after all," Sistine explained, glancing at Leona once more, seeking her permission to perform another test.
Upon hearing their conversation, realization dawned on Desmond.
"System, what would have happened if I hadn't terminated the process early?" Desmond inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity.
[System Conclusion: The host's trait, occupation, class, name, and gender would have been displayed.]
The system's succinct response rendered Desmond momentarily speechless. He realized that he alone bore the responsibility for his actions, as the system had merely provided a warning, leaving the subsequent choices in his hands.
"Is it possible to hide my trait rank?" Desmond asked, his thoughts muddled with complexity. They found themselves deep within enemy territory, and it appeared that his family had significantly offended some influential figures within this region.
After thoughtful contemplation, Desmond opted to conceal his trait rank. The reasons behind this decision were multifaceted. Being marked as a person of interest could potentially make him the primary target of his family's enemies, a trope he had often encountered in the novels he had avidly consumed. By eluding capture and growing stronger through his escapades, he might follow in the footsteps of those fictional protagonists.
However, choosing to hide his trait meant that his enemies might not perceive him as a significant threat. While they would still pursue him, their focus would be diverted elsewhere, reducing the immediate danger he and his family faced.
Both scenarios hinged on the specific circumstances at hand. Desmond's perspective was shaped by snippets of conversations and observations he had overheard within his family. Yet, he remained uncertain whether the enemy's target encompassed his entire family or solely his parents.
[System Conclusion: The system can conceal any information as long as the host grants permission.]
"Can I deactivate this function whenever I desire?" Desmond posed a crucial question, his gaze fixed on the possibilities that lay ahead. If an opportunity arose in the future where showcasing his talents could secure valuable resources or aid their cause, he needed the flexibility to deactivate the function at will.
[System Conclusion: The host's command is absolute. The function will be immediately deactivated upon the host's command.]
"Very well, function activated," Desmond commanded, his voice resolute and determined.
As Sistine, her nerves still tingling, cautiously guided Desmond's hand to the crystal once again, the stone initiated its sequence, briefly glowing before presenting a screen that contained Desmond's detailed information.
{Name: Desmond
Gender: Male
Age: 1 day
Race: Human
Class: None
Occupation: None
Trait: Selfishness (Rare)}
Upon witnessing the absence of question marks, Sistine breathed a sigh of relief. She had been apprehensive, fearing that she might falter in performing such a seemingly straightforward task.
However, a heavy silence hung in the air, causing Sistine's gaze to drift towards the rest of the family. Disappointment etched across their faces, and she couldn't help but notice their collective disheartenment.
Only then did she realize the nature of their son's revealed trait. "Please, do not lose heart," she implored, her voice laced with effort. "Although the trait may seem inclined towards the darker side, it does not define a person's behavior, neither in the present nor in the future."
"The gods merely use traits as reflections of a person's past mistakes," Sistine explained, exerting herself to shape a positive perception of Desmond's trait in the eyes of his family.
However, as she beheld their peculiar gazes fixed upon her, confusion settled within her.
"Thank you, sister, but you have misunderstood. Just look at my husband. Can you discern any signs of wisdom emanating from him?" Leona responded, her tone playful, a chuckle escaping her lips as she observed Sistine's earnest attempt to assuage their concerns.
Leona had already retrieved her son, cradling him securely in her arms. She gestured towards Bastian, who was carrying Alice on his shoulders.
Bastian simply offered a warm smile in response, acknowledging the truth in his wife's jest. Compared to Leona, he might appear slightly slow-witted and, at times, even foolish.
"Father, let's go!" Alice, perched upon her father's shoulders, tugged playfully at his hair as if she were controlling a spirited steed.
"Careful there, my sweet," Bastian chuckled, his laughter filled with joy as he and Alice approached Leona. Suddenly, Alice reached out and lightly touched Desmond's rosy cheeks, a mischievous smile spreading across her face.
"Hehe, little brother's cheeks are so soft!" she exclaimed, delighting in the tactile sensation. Her playful poking came to an abrupt halt as her mother swiftly reprimanded her, gently but firmly reminding her of proper conduct.
After bidding farewell to the sisters in the church, Bastian and his family made their way back to the dock, accompanied by their loyal crew. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation.
Suddenly, a voice boomed through the air, seemingly from nowhere. "Advance Spell: Dimension!" The crew immediately sprang into action, unsheathing their weapons and standing on high alert.
Bastian gently set Alice down and positioned himself in front of his family, acting as their shield. The crew swiftly formed a protective circle around them, their faces determined and focused.
Alice clutched her mother's clothes tightly, seeking solace and safety behind her father's back. Her wide eyes darted around the surroundings, noticing how the view gradually blurred and was engulfed by an eerie darkness. The world seemed to shift and warp before her.
Leona, holding Desmond in her arms, furrowed her brow as she observed the sudden change in the environment. "Be careful, honey. There's a master mage among them," she cautioned, her gaze scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.
Simultaneously, the once serene blue sky transformed, consumed by the encroaching darkness. The birds that had been gracefully soaring through the air were abruptly torn apart, as if a swift blade had sliced through them in an instant.
Young Desmond found himself holding his breath, captivated and apprehensive by the unfolding scene. He couldn't help but voice his request to the System.
"System, record this battle," he commanded.
The System responded promptly, "Starting the task..."
It utilized the host's brain as a database, capturing the unfolding events. The recording commenced, immortalizing the harrowing encounter.
"Activate your skills!" Bastian's voice rang out, commanding his crew. His grip tightened around his short-sword, ready for the impending clash.
As his words echoed, the crew members shouted in unison, invoking their respective abilities. "Swordsman Skills: Body Enhancement!" Veins surged across their bodies, muscles bulging as they momentarily lost focus, fully immersed in their enhanced states.
With the environment around them completely severed from the outside world, all color drained away. Sunlight vanished, leaving only an empty expanse swallowed by darkness, with a bleak sky stretching overhead.
In a chilling display, the birds shattered into fragments mid-flight, their demise swift and merciless as if a spectral blade had claimed them.
Meanwhile, Leona, her eyes flickering with determination, chanted a spell and suddenly cried out, "Basic Spell: Wardspell!" A magic circle materialized above the group, radiating a brilliant light that banished the darkness, restoring their vision.
A distorted laughter reverberated as the darkness gave birth to an ominous figure, gradually taking shape. The inky silhouette began to dissipate, revealing a group of individuals dressed in black garments. Their concealed eyes were the only visible features amidst their enigmatic attire, each armed with a gleaming dagger.
"Kill them all!" Bastian's resolve was unyielding as he charged forward, leading his men into battle. A small contingent stayed behind to protect his family.
With a numerical advantage, Bastian's ten men outnumbered the black-clad assailants by half. The gap between the two groups spanned a distance of 30 meters. However, fueled by their swordsman skills, Bastian's team surged forward, their enhanced speed propelling them toward their adversaries.
Bastian's sword blazed with fiery intensity, leaving a scorching trail in its wake. A transparent blue shield encased his body, safeguarding him from harm. Within the confines of this otherworldly dimension, devoid of any wind, their movements were amplified, enabling them to traverse the distance in mere seconds.
Already, they had covered half the gap, their determination unwavering.
"Kill the rest, leave the woman alive," commanded one of the black-clothed men, his voice obscured by their identical attire. The crew struggled to identify the speaker amidst the group until they separated and assumed a strategic formation.
In a blur of movement, two of the black-clad assailants vanished from their original positions, reappearing near five of Bastian's men, engaging them in fierce combat. However, upon closer observation, it became evident that none of Bastian's crew were at a disadvantage. The black-clothed men's speed seemed to increase with each passing moment, enabling them to deftly evade the strikes of Bastian's crew. Eventually, they managed to counterattack, inflicting an injury on one of Bastian's men.
"You think we made no preparations upon encountering you and your men?" sneered the leader, his body enveloped in a gathering, translucent white energy. He chanted a spell, his subordinates shielding him diligently.
In an instant, a sudden gust of wind materialized from thin air, slicing through one of the black-clothed men. Blood spurted from the man's neck, his bewildered expression frozen as his lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
The leader and his remaining subordinates blinked in disbelief as they witnessed Bastian, his eyes narrowed, appearing before them. The searing heat radiating from his sword threatened to sear their flesh.
"Bastard!" the black-clothed man cried out, fueled by vengeance upon witnessing his comrade's demise. He swiftly bent down, thrusting his dagger towards Bastian's stomach.
Simultaneously, the leader completed his chant. "Advance Spell: Gravity Lock!" he pointed at Bastian, who stood a mere ten inches away. A magic circle materialized, attaching itself to Bastian's body before dissipating, impeding his movements.
A resounding crack echoed through the air as the once-protective transparent blue shield surrounding Bastian shattered under the assault of the black-clothed man's dagger. However, the assailant's confident smile revealed his awareness of this vulnerability as he brandished another dagger in his free hand.
With a sickening pop, the dagger pierced Bastian's abdomen, tearing through his flesh. Blood welled up, causing him to cough and stagger, his body gradually descending to the ground.
"Die!" Suddenly, while the leader and the black-clothed man focused their attention on Bastian, one of his crew materialized behind the leader, wielding his sword with lethal intent.
Hovering mid-air, his body rotating counter-clockwise, the crew member raised his hands, gripping the sword tightly as he aimed to sever the leader's head.
A swift swoosh accompanied the attack, yet in that very moment, another member of Bastian's crew materialized, catching Bastian's falling body and preventing further harm. They swiftly retreated, bearing Bastian's weight on their shoulder.
In the blink of an eye, three more of Bastian's crew appeared, splitting their forces to engage the remaining black-clothed man and the leader.
The black-clothed men who had been engaged in combat against the rest of Bastian's crew momentarily froze, bewildered by the sudden shift. They had failed to realize that the enemy forces had diminished, leaving only a lone opponent.
Without hesitation, they swiftly disengaged, racing back to protect their leader. Fear etched their pale faces, their eyes reflecting their growing apprehension.
They hadn't expected Bastian to dispatch one of their own with such ease. Nor had they anticipated their leader's lack of strategic thinking in casting a wide-area attack against multiple adversaries.
"Advance Spell: Mass Healing!" Suddenly, Leona's voice resonated throughout the dimension. A colossal magic circle materialized in the dark sky, bathing Bastian and his crew in a soothing green light that rejuvenated their spirits and healed Bastian's grievous wound.
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