Ted and Monica left the others, telling them they had some private business to attend to.

  Monica didn't understand the need for secrecy that Ted seemed to share with her, but, at the very least, he had piqued her interest.

  "I don't get why it's a problem to do this where the others are?" Monica asked, with them ducking away from the marketplace.

  "It's a bit embarrassing," Ted blushed.

  "Why?"

  Ted pointed at corner of the tunnel and sighed, "I'll show you."

  As soon as they got there, far enough not be noticed from the others, Ted started removing his new gear and clothes.

  "Ted, where is this going?" Monica asked.

  "Just—trust me, ok?"

  Ted removed all his clothes other than his underwear and then took out a long knife from the belt he had now on the ground.

  He took a long breath and said, "don't heal me yet."

  Monica was about to say something when Ted made a diagonal incision on his forearm. The redhead simply stared as the young man did the same on his other forearm, then his legs. The four cuts were made so that if you joined them, they'd look like a rhombus.

  Finally, with some hesitation, Ted turned the dagger toward his heart and made a small cut right on top of it, on his sternum.

  Under the effect of the Obsidian Flame, Monica was losing her patience, but the calmer part of her told her to wait. Ted was foolish, but he was no fool. If he had indeed come up with something, it meant that he was confident this would work.

  "You said that the Obsidian Flame burns your Vitality when you use it to empower Skills now, right?" Ted asked as he picked up his mandolin.

  "Yes."

  "Alright, dude," Ted took a deep breath. "If this works, try to do the same for the Golden Flame."

  "Burn Vitality?" Monica asked, confused. "What are you doing?"

  Ted had closed his eyes while she talked and was now gently picking at the strings of his mandolin.

  The young man didn't reply nor did he pay any attention to what Monica said next. He was breathing deeply and humming.

  Ted didn't start singing, he just kept playing different notes and hummed in tune with them. Before Monica could ask what he was doing, she felt a shift in the surrounding Mana.

  Activating Mana Sense, Monica saw something that gave her pause.

  All the Mana surrounding them was slowly converging onto Ted. More specifically, tendrils of Mana were converging on the wounds on his arms and legs. And when she looked around, she saw that Mana was coming from far away in the tunnels. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that every single speck of ambient Mana in sight was slowly converging toward Ted, coating his skin and merging with his blood.

  Then, as five minutes passed, Monica felt that the notes Ted was playing and his humming weren't just resonating in the air, but they started shaking her bones. It felt somewhat similar to Battle Conductor, but different, deeper, stronger.

  Better.

  That's when, as Monica's body resonated more and more with the music, she saw a thick strand of blood and Mana come out of Ted's chest, separate in droplets a few feet from him, leaving their material form and turning into pure Mana.

  Monica saw the Mana cloud reaching her and enveloping her limbs.

  Before she could examine the Mana any further, she gasped.

  A power she had never felt before entered her veins as if she had leveled up fifty times in the span of a few moments.

  There was no word that could describe the massive amount of power that Monica felt coursing through her veins. She couldn't even begin to formulate what this Skill was doing to her. But then, she looked at Ted.

  His face was ashen and Monica immediately understood what was happening.

  He's burning his Vitality!

  Immediately, Monica activated Meditation and circulated the Golden Flame, showering Ted in it. Her eyes went wide as she felt like trying to fill an empty abyss inside of Ted with her Golden Flame, as if he had received numerous mortal wounds.

  "Ted! Stop, this is too much! You're killing yourself!"

  Monica knew something about that. With her Fire Transmutation Skill and the Obsidian Flame's new effect, she knew very well what it meant to try something like this. But the difference between her and Ted was that she could come back to life at any moment. Instead, if Ted died, that was it. There would be no second chances.

  Furthermore, even with her large Mana reserves, Monica struggled to keep pace with whatever Ted was doing to his own body. Not even the Golden Flame could keep up with him.

  "Ted, damn it! Stop!"

  But the young man kept humming and playing, even though he was getting more and more sluggish.

  Monica felt, for the first time since Machina had abducted Dotty, genuine panic.

  She redoubled her efforts, pouring so much Mana inside the Golden Flame that the tunnel around them was illuminated as if a dozen suns were in it. And for a moment, she thought she started turning the tide.

  Yet that euphoria lasted only a handful of seconds before she realized something else. Ted’s face was growing ashen. Dark crescents formed under his eyes, and his breath became ragged. Blood still seeped from his cuts, saturating the ground beneath him. Even from a glance, Monica understood he was pouring far too much of himself into this ability.

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  “Ted!” she snapped, taking a halting step toward him, Golden Flame sparking across her hands. “Stop it! You’re going to bleed out—”

  She triggered her Golden Flame, flooding him with the purest healing warmth she could muster. The corridors lit up in a blaze of golden brilliance. Yet despite her best efforts, it was like trying to fill an endless abyss.

  A ragged whimper escaped her throat. He’s basically burning his own life essence.

  “You idiot!” she snarled, half in panic, half in fury. “You’ll die if this goes on!”

  She poured more Mana into her healing, forcing her Meditation to revolve at maximum focus. The entire corridor seethed with golden light. She tried to refine the Golden Flame further, to push it beyond normal healing into something transcendent. But was that even possible without first raising the Golden Flame to Bronze Rank?

  * * *

  From Ted’s perspective, the world was fading to a gray haze. Music existed in intangible layers around him—he could sense each chord reverberating through his bones, each note funneling more of his blood essence outward. The edges of his vision swam with black splotches. Pain gnawed at every muscle.

  Ted had observed the painting of the Bleeding Bard for so long that something about it had seeped deep into his heart. He had at some point understood—perhaps even subconsciously—that a Skill of sorts was hiding into the painting. On top of his normal training, he would often Meditate with his eyes half-open, trying to imprint the image of the painting in his mind.

  What happened after was something out of legends.

  Ted knew of myths that recounted how people learned Skills from watching a tree sway, thunder fall, or even just the calm bobbing of the ocean.

  What he had not expected, however, was to be one of those people who could glean a Skill simply by looking at a painting.

  And such a Skill had come to him in a moment of great need.

  With only two battle-ready Skills to show, Phoenix Song and Battle Conductor, Ted craved to learn something else, something that could make an even bigger difference on the battlefield. He had wished he could bleed like Monica, Sir Tristan, Dotty, and even Heidi did.

  He wished he could do something where he felt like he was giving himself to the fight.

  Somehow, his wish had been granted.

  With a twist.

  Blood of the Bard

  Channel your blood essence to transform your Mana through music into an empowering spell for your allies, drastically empowering their fighting prowess. The cost of the spell is paid in blood.

  That had been it. There had been no additional description of Blood of the Bard. The first time Ted had tried using it, without anyone in his proximity, he had gone very close to dying. The Ability couldn't really be stopped once it got going, at least not at its current Rank. And the draw it had on his own Vitality was too much—it was unbearable.

  The only reason he hadn't died when he used the ability was that it had been interrupted by the fact that there was no recipient for it. Ted had been fully certain that, in normal circumstances, if he had used this in battle, he would have died.

  Therefore, it hadnt' been an easy decision to do this for Monica. He knew that with the powers of the Twin Phoenix, there was a good chance Monica could have healed him before his Vitality completely went away and he was left a lifeless corpse. But... he was betting on it with his own life.

  In normal circumstances, he wouldn't have done that. He would have preferred studying the Skill, Meditating on it, until he reached Bronze Rank, which would have most likely given him more control over it. Blood of the Bard, in fact, was a very esoteric Skill, like all the Skills he had gotten so far. It had no precise description, no numbers to rely upon. He found it ironic that him, the one in the group who had received the highest education on Classes and Skills, had to rely on some sort of sixth sense when it came to understanding his Skills.

  Maybe that's why—maybe the System wants me to have it hard.

  Ted had started having these thoughts, thinking that perhaps he was meant to suffer to learn his lesson.

  Then, he had found out about Monica's condition, how the Obsidian Flame was affecting her so deeply. No one else had seemed to actually pay much attention to that—which Ted found worrying.

  He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about Monica that left him deeply perturbed even though the redhead hadn't really voiced out her troubles. No, it was something that went beyond normal communication and body language.

  Something in Ted's own brain had conjured an image that he hadn't been able to parse.

  A dark phoenix, a black one, covered from head to toe in dark feathers and suffering unimaginable pain, the kind of pain that destroys you, that destroys your soul, and makes entire cities weep with sorrow.

  Ted had no idea why he had started having these visions, these feelings, but something about them told him to take this problem seriously. And, since he was growing more and more superstitious about what the System had planned for him, he had figured that him having Blood of the Bard and Monica having this problem was nothing but Fate.

  Ted didn't know why the word 'Fate' made him shudder, but the moment he thought of it, everything came together for him. He was meant to do this, destined to it.

  He needed to help Monica, no matter whether his own life would be at risk or not.

  There was something inside of him that just begged him to do it, that told him it was the only right thing to do in the entire world, that nothing else could compare to it.

  Don't let her turn that way again, something deep whispered inside his head.

  And so, Ted poured out his heart, his blood essence, and coated Monica with it.

  The first time he had used the Skill, it had hurt, it had been almost unbearable. But as he lulled a deep melody for the woman he only felt comfort. He felt like, at this moment, he had wings and was shielding Monica from everything with them. When he had used Blood of the Bard alone, he had felt a sense of extreme loss as life slowly went out from him and dissipated in the ether. Now, instead, he felt like this had been his purpose all along, from the very first moment he had met the woman, and, without even noticing, his humming turned into words.

  Words that came without any thought, as if they had been always been there.

  I dreamt of tar and black, of death and heavy stone,

  Where shadows twisted deeper than mere hatred alone.

  Nightmares cut like obsidian, raging bloody wars in mind—

  Yet through the dawn I glimpse your gold, a light so rare to find.

  There lives a queen in distant lands who weeps in blood and gore,

  Her hands have claimed more broken souls than any brutal war.

  For rage can carve a life apart, a throne of lonely cries—

  Still even monsters seek the love they lost in ancient sighs.

  I offer up my trembling soul, for yours I deem more fair;

  Its worth outshines my blood and bone, a truth I choose to bear.

  So take this vow with weary hands and let my promise guide—

  My spirit stands to shield your heart through darkest storms untied.

  So let these trembling veins unfold and bleed away my fears,

  I’ll stand against the blackest night to guard your golden tears,

  Though darkness hunts to break our souls, I’d shield your rightful throne—

  I’d give all I have left to keep your heart from turning to stone.