Chapter 29: FRIH - 29
"A spell to greatly enhance dynamic vision?" Ronan mused, his voice low, almost a whisper, yet clear in the richly adorned room. His expression remained calm—unreadable, like a still pond—but there was a flicker of intrigue behind his eyes. As his fingers gently turned the pages of the book, his mind was already deep in analysis, oblivious to Lord Marco's internal deliberations.
The room was quiet, the soft ticking of a golden pendulum clock marking time beside the fireplace. The tea on the table had grown lukewarm, untouched. Light streamed through tall windows lined with crimson velvet drapes, casting shadows across the carpeted floor. The book in Ronan's hands glowed faintly with residual mana, its magical script shifting subtly as he read.
He reviewed the book's contents with practiced ease. Enhanced dynamic vision... was it groundbreaking? Not particularly. At first glance, it seemed a modest improvement—a spell designed to heighten the perception of moving objects. It allowed one to better track fast motions, to follow the arc of a swinging blade or the whizzing flight of a thrown dagger. It was practical, useful... but limited.
Ronan recalled a scene from a manga he'd read years ago. The memory rose like mist, vivid and untouched by time. In that story, the world had ended. Cities were in ruin, society in collapse, and zombies roamed the earth in endless swarms. The protagonist, once an ordinary man, had survived by sheer grit—until one day, he injected a strength enhancer that altered his physiology.
Afterward, the protagonist could clearly see the trajectory of every falling raindrop. Each droplet, once a blur, now hung in the air like crystal beads. It was beautiful... and terrifying. Ronan had found the scene incredible at the time, the image of a lone warrior slicing through waves of the undead burned into his imagination. It had seemed so powerful, so unstoppable.
But then came the reality. The protagonist still struggled. Despite his newfound perception, despite being able to see the arc of a claw or the glint of a hidden blade, his body couldn't always keep up. There were limits—harsh, immutable limits. The human body, no matter how refined, had thresholds. Muscles tore, lungs burned, and bones shattered. Seeing a handgun bullet didn't mean one could dodge a sniper's round. Reaction and movement were not always in sync.
Breaking those limits was crucial.
Ronan, however, lacked such limitations.
His body was not bound by the normal laws. The constraints that tied others down did not exist for him. Speed was his domain. Strength, his birthright. This spell, while ordinary on the surface, was something different in his hands. It was tailor-made for him, an amplifier that fit seamlessly into his arsenal.