“Everybody, shut the hell up!” Eric shouted.

  Eric made his way toward the top of the stairs that led to the throne and sat, pressing his palms against his eyes.

  His thoughts were becoming too jumbled. The constant barrage of self-doubt that came his way every time he did anything was drowning him and slowing him down.

  Sitting down, he began to evaluate his actions up until now.

  After he had gotten the secret objective, and after a lengthy talk, he had come to an agreement with the knight, who turned out to be the head and leader of their knight squad, and the princess.

  He would help them both find the one responsible for the king’s death and help the princess ascend to the throne, winning the battle for succession.

  Since Eric had more or less established a baseline for the power that was present in this trial, he decided to bulldoze through everything.

  That wasn’t to say that he was careless or just did whatever he wanted. He only did most of what he wanted.

  And in an effort to more accurately distinguish what was real and what wasn’t, Eric was trying to be more “human,” and what was more human then compassion and mercy?

  The purpose behind this was simple. He wanted to see how he would react to behaving in such a way. So, with that in mind, he advanced.

  Guards that refused to acknowledge the princess? Unconscious. Soldiers that were only following orders? Unconscious. Ministers and powerful nobles? Unconscious.

  Killing had been absolutely banned from his list of allowed actions. But no matter how much he tried, his indifference sometimes crept up unnoticed.

  When interrogating for information, what he knew was too much suddenly seemed to be irrelevant. It was an automatic process that he didn’t even notice. He caught himself more often than not, but it really made him question his actions.

  Is this new? Have I been doing this before now? If so, when? His mind kept coming up with new questions with which to fill his head.

  Maybe it’s the System. I mean, Stella and the others were just as willing to get down to the killing and now that I think about, so were the others. We only needed to show them how easy it was, and they followed without issue.

  Regardless of how troubled Eric was, the trial had also provided him with some insight toward some of the recent changes that his body had undergone, specifically the forceful reformation of his mana channels.

  At no point during his entire journey in this trial did he ever have to use mana reinforcement on more than three limbs.

  The most he has had to do is reinforce his legs to get a better footing so that his reinforced punch wouldn’t cause him to stumble. And the more he used the same channels over and over again, the more aware he became of the changes.

  “These are better,” Eric mumbled as the others rummaged through piles of documents in one of the ministers’ offices, looking for clues.

  Eric, closing himself to the others, shut his eyes and began to sense the new and rough mana channels that were all over his body.

  They are far more complex and require a greater amount of mana to achieve the same result, he thought, channeling mana through some of them.

  But when done right, the power is incomparable to what my previous mana channels could do. “Hmm,” he said out loud, making his contemplation obvious.

  If before I could move an empty truck by myself, now I could probably do the same with one full of people. Maybe even uphill. And this is only with the channels as they are, rough and uncomfortable.

  He cycled mana through both his arms, confirming some things.

  The problem is that these channels are too intricate for me to replicate with my current level of Mana Insight. There are pitfalls for someone as inexperienced as me.

  With careful inspection, most of the roughness is obvious but some of the paths these new channels take seem unnatural. However, they appear on both arms, so it can’t be due to the roughness, they have to be intentional paths.

  “Even attempting to repair them would be a waste. What if I ruin something crucial?” Eric asked himself out loud, causing his accomplices to turn and face him. “Internal dilemma,” he said flatly, waving their stares away.

  At this point they were investigating the crown prince’s room for evidence that might lead to the culprit. Eric, who was beginning to feel a physical toll due to his mental exhaustion, decided to sit on a fancy chair.

  The chair had originally been near the desk that the knights were currently investigating, but they removed it because they considered it a bother.

  When Eric sat down, being aware of his entire body as he was, he felt every single piece of the chair push against him. It wasn’t as comfortable as he expected it to be, but he quickly noticed something of importance.

  “Poison,” Eric said firmly, his voice demanding everyone’s attention. “This chair was used to poison your brother."

  Lifting his right arm and pointing to what appeared to be simple wood splinter, he spoke again. “Here, this is what was used to deliver the poison.

  “But sir sage, that looks like a simple splinter,” the head knight protested.

  “Are you really a sage?” the princess cut in. “To confuse a simple splinter with poison. Every one of your actions proves that you’re a fraud. I knew it was a mistake to trust you. Your luck will eventually—"

  The princess stopped speaking when a tied-up butler fell to the floor, foaming at the mouth.

  The butler had been one of the people that the other knights had been dragging along since they began to look for evidence.

  These people were brought so that they could answer any question that might arise during the investigation.

  A simple interrogation might miss certain details, especially when not directly facing something of relevance. That and Eric really wanted to stop interrogating people as it made his mind more jumbled.

  While the princess was speaking, Eric only caught on to the important part. They need evidence.

  Eric himself had no doubt that it was poison. He felt his body fight it off, even if it only lasted a second.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Without even thinking about it, Eric removed the splinter, reinforced it with a bit a mana—he could do that now—and flung it toward a butler that he noticed was acting strangely since he mentioned the chair.

  Gaining the skill was both difficult and simple. After coming to an agreement with the princess, he asked the knights about their techniques and Eric easily managed to replicate them with the help of the System.

  He only did what he did to level but in reverse. Instead of pulling ambient mana in, he pushed internal mana out, then he manipulated it however he wanted to.

  What made it difficult was keeping the reinforcement beyond a certain distance. But through practice, he expanded his range bit by bit.

  His range was currently about three meters wide, more than enough to hit the target. After letting the small splinter fly, he got a System message.

  Mana Projection has reached level 4.

  The princess was still talking when the splinter hit the butler, digging into his neck. Only when the butler began to foam at the mouth did the princess finally cease to speak.

  “Need more evidence?” Eric asked.

  “What evidence!” the princess exclaimed. “You just used it to prove your point! You could have easily moved the butler to the chair in an effort to preserve it! Now you probably destroyed it!”

  “Your majesty, please calm down and let the sage explain himself,” the head knight implored.

  “His reasoning better be worth it, because if it isn’t—”

  “Depending on a single splinter would be dumb,” Eric said, crouching and fixing his sights on the chair.

  “It’s more likely that the entire chair is poisoned. Sitting on it could be enough for it to eventually and inconspicuously enter through the skin. The splinter simply happened to be a more direct delivery method.”

  Eric had absolutely no idea if what he just said was true or not. He didn’t know how poisons worked, and the only reason he spoke with such confidence was to shut the princess up.

  She’s fucking annoying… Is she annoying? Do I find her annoying?

  “That makes sense,” the head knight said, agreeing with Eric. “The crown prince and his majesty both grew increasingly ill. The splinter would not explain their deaths, but a slow exposure might.”

  “Once again you got lucky. Once lady luck chooses to finally abandon you I will more than happily deliver you to her embrace,” the princess said, completely out of touch with the current situation.

  Through the discovery of the poisoned chair and a more thorough analysis of it, Eric’s words were more or less confirmed.

  There were certain minor details that were discovered later on, like the fact that there were catalysts within their food.

  The discovery itself came about after a poison expert identified the poison. According to him, it would take years for the poison to accumulate and have any effect on the target. However, if a catalyst was introduced into the equation, than it was possible to hasten the process.

  Using this newly acquired knowledge, options were considered, and the poison expert’s opinion was given the most weight.

  He seemed to respond honestly and none of his responses even hinted at the food, he didn’t deny the possibility but instead steered them away from it. But that’s when Eric noticed something strange in his behavior.

  Why can I tell that he’s making an effort to seem sincere? Eric asked himself. It’s almost like he wants to be perceived one way, while really being the other. It seems like a mask… How do I know this?

  Even as he invested himself fully in other matters, Eric’s mind always went back to the most pressing issue. Have I been doing this? Intentionally? Unintentionally? To who? Everyone?

  As his mind began to be drowned with self-doubt and an endless sea of questions, he acted without thought. Extended his arm fully, he reached for the poison expert and choked him, lifting him off the ground.

  Everyone was slow to react. The atmosphere was tense, but it wasn’t hostile. To see Eric suddenly move with explosive speed caught everyone by surprise, even Eric himself who only acted on instinct, trying to silence his mind.

  Now the atmosphere was tense, with a hint of fear as nobody knew what would happen next.

  “You brute!” the princess exclaimed. “What do you think you are doing?! Unhand him this instant or I swear on my—”

  “You keep dancing around the subject of food. You’re not exactly denying the possibility, but more like avoiding it. It’s like you’re afraid to lie… or maybe you’re afraid to tell the truth,” Eric said, narrowing his eyes and taking in the entirety of the poison expert’s reaction.

  “I—I—I can—”

  “Was it in the food? Yes, or no?” Eric asked, cutting the choking man off.

  “I—I—”

  “Yes or no,” Eric repeated, tightening his grip slightly.

  “Unngh!” the poison expert grunted in pain.

  Eric tightened further.

  “Y—es—yes.”

  “Was that so hard?” Eric asked, his expression just as indifferent as ever as he put the expert down.

  But then, as he was about to face the head knight, he felt something, like a spark of mana and he quickly turned to face the poison expert.

  Suddenly, the poison expert began to bloat, entire chunks of his body looking like a balloon. Then a second later, he exploded into a million pieces of flesh and gore.

  “Look at what you have done! I will have your—”

  Time passed and connecting the various clues they had gathered up until this point, they managed to discern the person who ordered the chairs and the person who might have contacted the poison expert, who at the very least provided the catalyst.

  After analyzing some information that they kept from Eric, the knights left and returned with the head of a certain noble house that provided and trained most of the workforce of the palace.

  From there things began to escalate with great speed. In a matter of hours, they had reduced the number of suspects to only two possible culprits and after a single session of deliberation, they singled one out. The king’s uncle and ruler of the north.

  Some fuck who’s name I don’t care for, Eric thought looking at the man before him.

  That was how he ended up in his current situation.

  His head was ready to burst because of the endless questions that filled him and the constant banter and exposition that was exchanged between the princess and the villain was too annoying. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he exploded.

  “Everybody, shut the hell up!” he shouted. Then he turned and sat on the stairs that led to the throne as he pressed his palms against his eyes.

  The pressure that he exuded when he shouted caused both sides to lay down their arms if only momentarily. Both sides knew that Eric was the one that would decide who won and lost today.

  Eric’s mind was noisier than it had ever been, but he couldn’t discern any individual thought. And when he managed to grasp one, he doubted the very fact that it was his.

  Are my friends even friends? Do I just keep them around because that’s what others do. I don’t care for their company, their banter or their very existence. I just imitate others… Do they know?

  His mind was racing with half-formed questions and answers that only made the problem worse. But then, amidst everything that threatened to drown him, a question arose.

  Can my friends feel it as much as I can?... Wait, feel?

  Then, as if grasping for understanding, his mind reached for every relevant memory. It was every recent memory in which he had tried to laugh, smirk or express any emotion other than indifference. As he went through the memories in order, he realized something.

  The more connected I felt with my body, the less I knew how to express… Then his mind brought forth the description of his class.

  Heritage Vessel: Begin to return your body to its true state. Devour the heavens and restore the forgotten glories. With every step, a warning is given.

  Return your body to its true state… Gray said I wasn’t human… and those visions mentioned a container…

  He had already made these connections in his mind, but they were superficial. Now, he was truly grasping them.

  Then by getting more in tune with my body I will become less human. I’ll be reduced to a tool—a container. But… I don’t want that, do I? Can I even want?

  Something that Eric hadn’t realized or considered, was that his brain was also part of his body with which he was becoming more attuned with.

  It was what was driving some of these connections. Bringing forth what he wanted, also brought his body closer to its true state.

  As his questions grew, growing uncontrollably, his mind shifted to Eric, the experiences that formed him—no—what he took to make him.

  He took small things from everyone, even his liking for web novels and the like was something he took from Stella.

  His semi-helping attitude was something that he took from everyone around him, because from his own experiences, people tended to be kind when allowed.

  Videogames? He took it from his older brother, Adrian, who always taught Eric how to play.

  Engineering? That came from everyone that surrounded him, he had no wants for the future, so he did what everyone thought that he wanted.

  An endless list of likes, dislikes, attitudes and responses that he directly copied and grafted onto himself were presented before him as a slideshow.

  A brief thought tried to creep its way in, giving him some hope.

  That’s how everyone comes to be, Eric thought, but he immediately squashed it. But there’s a key difference… There’s no emotion behind any of it.

  If he looked behind each and every memory that was racing through his mind, there was emotion, but it was a cover. He knew it for a fact, he could sense it, and he could even replicate it.

  Eric was getting lost in the memories that flooded him, each reminding him about how not human he was. His eyes were beginning to lose their shine, dimming before everyone in the throne room.

  Eric, the person, was dying.