The Stat Window
In the warm mansion's cold depths, the fate of a bloodline began to fracture.
Crossbow bolts hissed through the air, accompanied by fireballs and ice lances shattering the silence. The simultaneous projectile barrage aimed to turn the Isolation Vault into a kill zone.
For Heze, it was hell. Pure panic threatened to paralyze him, but his data-trained mind seized control. Void Grasp was too costly for every attack. Tanking hits in this body was suicide. Evasion was the only option left.
With a groan, he forced Nihil's frail body into motion. He rolled clumsily sideways, the gritty stone floor cold against him as a bolt thudded where he'd been seconds before. A fireball slammed into the wall behind him, spraying stinging heat.
He scrambled and lurched, his movements anything but graceful, toward the only cover in the room: a large, sturdy obsidian altar at its center. He slammed his body behind it, gasping for breath, as a barrage of attacks pounded the other side of his makeshift shield.
[Capacity: 3 / 15 (VERY CRITICAL)] the system notification flashed crimson in his mind. One mistake, and it was over.
High above, in a dark, hidden observation gallery, Velka Nocturne held her breath. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She'd followed Alban from afar, drawn by a terrible foreboding when the alarms sounded. Through a concealed viewing slit—a relic from an era when ancestors imprisoned enemies in this vault—she witnessed everything.
She saw her brother, Nihil, whom she'd believed died peacefully, now alive with a terrifying yet compelling presence. She saw the strange power that erased Captain Garris's sword without a sound. And most horrifyingly, she saw her elder brother Alban's face.
There was no grief or confusion there. Only cold ambition and unveiled murderous intent. Alban didn't see their lost sibling; he saw a problem to be erased.
Now, she watched Alban directing the knights to rain ranged attacks down on Nihil. This wasn't an arrest. This was an execution.
For the first time in her passive, observant life, Velka felt something powerful surge: rage. Rage at Alban's cruelty, and an unexpected sympathy for the fragile figure fighting for life below. The being down there might no longer be the Nihil she knew, but it wasn't a monster either. It was someone cornered and terrified.
Behind the altar, Heze knew he couldn't hold out forever. The knights would soon advance or flank him. He needed a distraction. An exit.
His crimson eyes scanned the room frantically, his analytical brain seeking any exploitable variable. Floor, walls, altar... then his gaze snapped upward.
A massive wrought-iron chandelier hung from the high ceiling, directly above the entrance area where Alban and most knights stood clustered. It was suspended by a single thick, rusted chain.
A desperate plan formed. He didn't need to erase the whole chandelier. Just one link.
[Analyzing Target: Ancient Iron Chain (Magically Reinforced Durability)]
[Warning: Target possesses high durability. 'Void Grasp (F)' Skill Rank likely insufficient. Failure Probability: 70%.]
A gamble. But the only one he had.
Waiting for a brief lull as the crossbowmen reloaded, Nihil peeked out from behind the altar. He stretched out his trembling hand, focusing his gaze on one specific link near the ceiling.
"Sink or swim," he rasped.
He channeled the last dregs of his Capacity, ignoring the flashing system warnings, and activated Void Grasp.
No sound. No flash. Just a moment of silence as one link in the middle of the chain winked out of existence.
For a fraction of a second, the massive chandelier seemed to hang, defying gravity. Then, with an ear-splitting metallic SCREECH, it plummeted.
CRUNCH!
The chandelier crashed onto the floor with devastating force, shattering stone tiles and spraying dust and debris in all directions. Knights yelled in shock, leaping back to avoid the impact. From her hidden perch, Velka saw Alban jump backward with surprising agility, his usually composed face twisted in pure fury at being outmaneuvered.
The chaos was the opening Nihil needed.
As dust choked the air, he didn't hesitate. Instead of running towards the now-blocked door, he turned. Behind the stone altar, a section of the wall looked different—its stones were older and cracked. One of Nihil's faintest memories whispered of servant stories regarding an ancient secret passage behind the chapel.
Summoning his last reserves of strength, he pushed against a loose stone. The wall slid inward, revealing a narrow, dark passageway smelling of damp earth.
Without a backward glance, Nihil slipped into the darkness. The stone wall slid shut behind him, swallowing him whole.
He left behind a shattered room, a furious brother, and a hidden sister whose world had just been turned upside down.
The night at Nocturne Manor deepened, concealing newly awakened secrets and charting fresh paths of destiny.
The darkness within the secret passage was total and suffocating. The air hung cold and damp, thick with the scent of earth and stone untouched by light for centuries. As the stone wall sealed behind him, the sounds of chaos from the chapel muffled into distant echoes, then vanished entirely.
Nihil slumped against the rough wall, his body finally giving out. His legs buckled, and he slid down onto the uneven floor. Overwhelming exhaustion, deeper than mere physical fatigue, flooded him.
A notification appeared in his mind, unprompted this time.
[Capacity: 0 / 15 (DEPLETED)]
[Warning: Extreme Physical and Mental Fatigue Detected. Immediate Rest Recommended to Initiate Capacity Regeneration.]
He had survived. Heze's analytical mind repeated the fact over and over, trying to digest it. He, a cognitive economist with zero combat experience, had survived six trained knights and a ruthless nobleman. Not through brute force, but through observation, strategy, and one successful gamble. This small victory felt more tangible than anything he'd achieved on Vega Terra.
In the silence and temporary safety, he realized the Nihility Code wasn't just a curse. It was a tool. A weapon. The only thing standing between him and death.
"I need to know more," he whispered into the darkness. Focusing his mind, he summoned the system's main interface, this time intent on studying it carefully.
A complex holographic window materialized in his consciousness. Several tabs were visible: Status, Skills, Quests, and one blinking ominously in red: Curse.
He opened the Status tab.
```
Name: Nihil Aethernis Nocturne / Heze
Lineage: House Nocturne (Cursed)
Level: 1
---
[Core Attributes]
Strength: F
Agility: F+
Endurance: E-
Intelligence: A (Heze Soul Impact)
Magic: - (Rejected by Curse)
---
[Affinity Attributes]
Void Affinity: SSS
```
Heze almost laughed. His physical stats were pathetic. No wonder this body felt so weak. But Intelligence: A and Void Affinity: SSS were glaring anomalies. That was his power.
He switched to the Skills tab. Only [Void Grasp (F)] was active. Below it, several slots were greyed out: [Void Memory (Locked)], [Sovereign's Afterimage (Locked)]. Requirements were listed beside them: [Void Sync 10% Required], [Depth 3 Required]. It gave him a clear roadmap for growth.
Finally, he opened the blinking Curse tab.
```
[Active Curse: Shackles of Nihility]
Effect: Rejects all external energy. Severs empathic connections. Propels user toward Singularity.
[Current Void Sync: 1.6%]
```
The percentage had risen slightly after the fight. The curse seemed to grow stronger with stress and power usage. It was a double-edged sword.
Back in the shattered chapel, Alban's fury smoldered amidst dust and debris.
"Find him! Tear that altar apart! I want every rat hole in this manor searched!" he barked at his still-shaken knights.
"That's enough, Alban."
A calm yet authoritative voice cut through his rage. From the shadowed corridor, an elderly man in black silk robes stepped into the wreckage. His face was lined with weary wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp and calculating. Valerius Nocturne, the Patriarch, had arrived.
He didn't look at Alban. His gaze swept the destruction – the erased sword, the fallen chandelier, and most importantly, the slightly ajar secret passage behind the cracked altar.
"Father," Alban growled. "The aberration escaped. It's stronger than we thought. I'll lead the hunt myself."
"You will do no such thing," Valerius countered, his voice flat. He finally turned his gaze to his eldest son, and it held cold disappointment. "What do you think this is? A hunt for a wild beast? You triggered alarms throughout the manor. You let it display its power. You acted rashly and emotionally."
"It must be eradicated!" Alban protested.
"Of course it must," Valerius said, walking towards the chandelier wreckage. "But not by you. Not like this. If word spreads that 'the cursed Nocturne son has risen from death with terrifying powers,' what do you imagine the Empire will do? Or worse, the hunters from the Umbra Venari? They'll come knocking. The reputation I built over decades will crumble overnight."
Valerius stopped and fixed Alban with a piercing stare. "Our priority isn't execution. Our priority is containment and secrecy."
He turned to one of his trusted head stewards waiting anxiously in the doorway.
"Lock down the entire lower wing. Double the guards. No one enters or leaves without my express permission," he ordered. Then, lowering his voice to barely a whisper, he added, "Go to my chambers. Use the communication mirror behind the painting. Contact 'The Silencer'."
The steward swallowed hard, his face paling further.
"Tell him," Valerius continued, his weary eyes now glinting with hidden cruelty, "our 'valuable asset' has slipped its leash. Request he come to retrieve it. Usual fee."