Chapter 6: Rabbit Talisman · Pursuit
In the summer of his fifth year, the lawn of Star-Swirl Manor was as green as a giant piece of velvet.
Rhys lay under the shade of a tree, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, squinting at the clouds in the sky.
Those clouds drifted lazily, looking like a dragon one moment, a Castle the next, and then scattering into a hazy blur.
"Little Master!"
Bangbang's voice came from afar.
Rhys sat up and saw Bangbang running over from the direction of the manor, his two large ears flopping in the wind.
"Little Master! Come play! Let's play hide-and-seek!"
Hide-and-seek.
This was Bangbang's favorite game.
It was also Rhys's favorite—because every time Bangbanghid, he could find him.
Bangbang always hid in the same few places: behind the oak tree, beside the fountain, in the rose bushes.
It was too easy to guess.
Rhys spat out the grass stem and stood up.
"Fine. You hide this time, and I'll find you."
Bangbang nodded vigorously: "Bangbang hides! Little Master finds!"
He hopped away, then turned back after a few steps: "Little Master, close your eyes! No peeking!"
Rhys smiled and closed his eyes.
"One, two, three, four, five..."
He counted slowly, the sound of Bangbang's footsteps fading into the distance, the rustling of the wind through the lawn, and the splashing of the fountain in the distance filling his ears.
"...twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!"
He opened his eyes.
The lawn was empty.
Bangbang had hidden.
Rhys started searching around the manor.
He went behind the oak tree first—no one there.
Then he went to the fountain—no one there.
The rose bushes—he carefully pushed aside the branches, avoiding the thorns—still no one.
"Bangbang has learned to be smart this time," he muttered, continuing his search.
The kitchen? No.
The tool shed? No.
The little corner where Bangbang slept? Also no.
Rhys stood in the center of the manor, frowning.
Where could Bangbang be hiding?
He thought for a moment, and suddenly remembered a place—the old willow tree.
In the deepest part of the manor, near the perimeter wall, there was a large old willow tree with branches hanging down like curtains.
Bangbang had never hidden there before because it was too far.
But perhaps that was it this time?
Rhys took off running in that direction.
—
He ran across the lawn, past the fountain, through the oak grove.
The old willow tree was right ahead.
He ran even faster.
Then, he saw Bangbang.
Bangbang was standing next to the old willow tree, waving at him with a smug smile—and then, with a pop, Bangbang disappeared.
Apparition.
Rhys stopped and looked around.
Where would Bangbang appear?
He looked back—the direction of the manor, too far away.
He looked all around—the lawn, the woods, the garden; there was no sign of Bangbang.
"Bangbang!" he shouted, "Where are you?"
No one answered.
"Bangbang!"
Still no answer.
Rhys began to panic.
He knew Bangbang could use Apparition, he knew Bangbang was just hiding somewhere else, he knew Bangbang would definitely come back—
But he still panicked.
Just like when he was two years old, when Bangbang said he was going to the kitchen and vanished before his eyes.
Just like even earlier, when his parents said they were going out for a moment and never returned.
"Bangbang!"
He shouted even louder, a tremor in his voice.
He frantically looked around, trying to find that short figure.
And then—
He didn't know what happened.
He only remembered that at that moment, there was only one thought in his mind: I must find him. I must catch up to him. I don't want him to disappear in front of me again.
Then his body moved.
Not running, not dashing—it was flying.
The surrounding scenery turned into blurred lines, the wind whistled sharply in his ears, and the lawn, trees, and fountain all lost their shape, leaving only a flow of colors.
He didn't know how long he moved.
Maybe a second, maybe less.
Then he collided with something soft, his hands instinctively hugging it tight—
Pop!
The two of them fell to the ground together, rolled twice, and finally stopped next to a rose bush.
Rhys panted, his heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump out of his chest.
Then he heard a familiar voice:
"Lit... Little Master?"
He looked up.
Bangbang was lying beneath him, his two large eyes wide with disbelief.
"Bangbang just used Apparition to get here..." Bangbangstammered, "And then Little Master... just... hugged Bangbang?"
Rhys blinked.
He looked around.
This was the other side of the manor, at least... at least several hundred meters from that old willow tree.
He just... arrived in an instant?
"How is Little Master so fast?" Bangbang's voice changed pitch, "Faster than Bangbang's Apparition! How did Little Master do it?"
Rhys opened his mouth but couldn't speak.
Because he didn't know either.
Just then, that familiar voice rang in his mind—
[Detected strong emotional fluctuation from the host: fear of loss, obsession with protection, longing to "catch up".]
[Emotional value met, ability unlocked.]
[Rabbit Talisman unlocked—Super Speed.]
[Ability explanation: Grants the user extreme movement speed, capable of achieving teleportation effects; automatically enhances the user's dynamic vision to adapt to high-speed movement; combined with the Rooster Talisman, it can achieve high-speed flight.]
[Hint: The Rabbit Talisman is at its peak upon unlocking, no proficiency required. The host can use this ability at any time.]
Rhys stood stunned.
Rabbit Talisman.
Super Speed.
The power the system mentioned... was real?
He had always known about the existence of the system, knew those settings, and knew that one day he would unlock abilities. But that had always been a concept in his mind, a promise of a distant future.
But now—
He looked at his own hands.
Just now, it was these hands, these legs, that allowed him to cross a distance of several hundred meters in an instant and catch up to the Apparating Bangbang.
It was real.
Those powers were real.
—
"Little Master?" Bangbang's voice pulled him back to reality, "What's wrong? Did you get hurt falling?"
Rhys regained his senses and looked at Bangbang's worried face.
Those large, round eyes were full of nervousness and anxiety.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice a bit hoarse, "Bangbang, are you okay?"
"Bangbang is fine!" Bangbang shook his head, "Bangbangwas just scared... Little Master was too fast, faster than Bangbang's Apparition..."
He paused, suddenly remembering something, and nervously grabbed Rhys's hand.
"Did running so fast just now make you feel uncomfortable? Are you out of breath? Are you dizzy? Bangbang heard that running too fast can be bad—"
"Bangbang."
Rhys interrupted him.
Bangbang stopped and looked at him.
Rhys suddenly smiled.
"I'm fine," he said, "I'm just... very happy."
"Happy?" Bangbang blinked, "Happy about what?"
Rhys didn't answer.
He looked up at the sky. The afternoon sun was warm, the white clouds drifting slowly, exactly the same as when he was lying on the lawn earlier.
But everything was different.
He had power.
Real power.
Not power that would only come one day in the future, but power that could be used now, at this moment.
He looked at Bangbang, that small elf with large ears who had been by his side since he was born.
Bangbang was watching him worriedly, his two ears twitching nervously.
"Bangbang," Rhys said.
"Hm?"
"Let's play hide-and-seek again."
Bangbang was stunned for a moment, then nodded vigorously.
"Okay! Bangbang hides! Little Master finds!"
He hopped up, ran a few steps, then turned back: "Little Master, close your eyes! No peeking!"
Rhys smiled and closed his eyes.
"One, two, three, four, five..."
The sound of Bangbang's footsteps fading into the distance filled his ears.
But this time, he wasn't afraid.
Because he knew, no matter where Bangbang hid—
He could catch up.
—
That afternoon, they played hide-and-seek for a long time.
Every time Bangbang disappeared using Apparition, Rhys would use his newly acquired power to catch up and hug him the moment Bangbang materialized.
Bangbang went from initial shock, to later excitement, and finally to "Bangbang isn't convinced! Bangbang is hiding one more time!"
But every time, Rhys was able to catch up.
When the sun tilted west, the two of them lay on the lawn, panting, out of breath.
"Little Master is too amazing..." Bangbang murmured, "Can be found no matter where I hide..."
Rhys watched the clouds in the sky without speaking.
He was thinking about what had just happened.
Why now?
Why when chasing Bangbang?
The system said it was because of "fear of loss" and "obsession with protection".
The moment Bangbang vanished using Apparition, he had truly been afraid.
That kind of fear was exactly the same as the fear he felt when Bangbang vanished before his eyes at two years old.
It was the same as the fear from even earlier, when he knew his parents would never return.
He was afraid of losing.
Afraid of important people suddenly disappearing and never being able to find them again.
So when Bangbang vanished in front of him again, there was only one thought in his mind—
I want to catch up to him.
I don't want him to disappear again.
And then, he caught up.
Chapter 7: Grandmother's Healer Heart
The summer when he was six, the roses at Star-Swirl Manor were in full bloom.
Rhys crouched on the garden path, holding a twig and drawing something on the ground. Bangbang crouched beside him, his big eyes earnestly watching the crooked lines.
"What is the little master drawing?"
"A dragon," Rhys said without looking up. "A Chinese dragon."
Bangbang blinked, looking at the long, clawed, whisker-adorned creature, and nodded vigorously: "Looks like it! Very much like it!"
Rhys couldn't help but laugh.
Bangbang had never seen a Chinese dragon, but every time Rhys drew something, Bangbang would say it looked like it.
This was Bangbang's gentleness.
"Why is the little master drawing a Chinese dragon?" Bangbang asked.
The twig in Rhys's hand paused.
Why?
Because it was something from his mother's homeland.
Grandmother and Aunt had told him many things about her—she was an Eastern Witch who used a type of magiccompletely different from Western magic; her eyes were black, her hair was black, and she had a gentle smile.
He drew the Chinese dragon because it was the closest way he could be to his mother.
"Just felt like drawing it," he said.
Bangbang nodded, not pressing further.
Just then, a familiar voice came from behind:
"Rhys."
Rhys turned back.
Grandmother Cassiopeia stood at the garden entrance, wearing a dark green robe, her silver-gray hair meticulously pinned up. A faint smile was on her face, and her gray eyes were watching him tenderly.
"Grandmother!"
Rhys dropped the twig, stood up, and ran toward his grandmother.
Cassiopeia crouched down, opened her arms, and caught the small figure rushing toward her.
"Run slower," she said softly, but there was no reproach in her tone, only indulgence.
Rhys threw himself into his grandmother's arms and smelled a familiar scent—that faint aroma mixed with Potion and disinfectant, the scent of St. Mungos.
"Grandmother is back early today."
"Hmm, nothing much to do today," Cassiopeia said, picking him up as she stood. "Come, let Grandmother get a good look at you."
She held Rhys's hand and walked to a bench in the garden to sit. Rhys sat obediently beside her, tilting his small face up for her to see.
Cassiopeia examined his face carefully.
Those gray eyes, those deep features, that jet-black hair—all were extremely like Cepheus. But the softness between his brows and the slightly upturned corners of his eyes carried the shadow of his Eastern lineage.
"You've grown taller," she said, "and stronger."
Rhys grinned.
Cassiopeia drew her wand from her robe.
"Let Grandmother check your health."
Rhys nodded and sat still, acting obediently.
This was a routine check. Every time his grandmother returned from St. Mungos, she would give him a simple examination. She said this was to "detect problems early," but Rhys knew this was just her excuse to spend more time with him.
"Full-body scan." Cassiopeia chanted softly, and the tip of her wand emitted a gentle white light that enveloped Rhys's entire body.
Rhys felt a warmth spread from the top of his head to his toes, like soaking in warm water.
He relaxed, enjoying the feeling of being cared for.
Then, he saw his grandmother's brows furrow slightly.
A certain area of the white light flickered.
A golden, faint but clear radiance.
The tip of Cassiopeia's wand moved slightly, tracking the light.
"Grandmother?" Rhys felt a little nervous.
Cassiopeia did not answer, focusing on the test results.
The light traveled through Rhys's body, finally stopping at his legs and spine, slowly flickering like some kind of residual energy.
"Rhys," she put away her wand and looked at her grandson, "have you been... running particularly fast lately?"
Rhys's heart skipped a beat.
Running fast?
Of course he ran fast. After unlocking the Rabbit Talisman, he had tried it many times, though he didn't use it in front of people—never in front of his grandmother or aunt—but when playing hide-and-seek with Bangbang, he occasionally couldn't help but use it.
Especially after Bangbang used Apparition, he would always use super-speed to catch up and hug him.
That was a game between him and Bangbang.
Could it be... that he had been discovered?
"Just... just ran a bit fast when playing with Bangbang," he tried to make his voice sound normal.
Cassiopeia looked at him, her gray eyes thoughtful.
"Just a bit fast?" she asked.
Rhys nodded.
Cassiopeia was silent for a moment, then laughed softly.
"The Eastern bloodline, it really is quite different," she murmured, as if talking to herself.
Rhys was stunned.
Eastern bloodline?
"Grandmother, what are you talking about?"
Cassiopeia picked him up and placed him on her lap.
"Rhys, do you know what your mother was?"
Rhys nodded: "An Eastern Witch."
"Yes," Cassiopeia said. "Your mother's magic was not quite the same as our Western magic. We use incantations, wands, and established rules; they use... something more ancient. Spiritual power, runes, resonance with heaven and earth."
She paused, looking into the distance as if recalling something.
"When your mother was young, I saw her use it once. It was shortly after she and Cepheus got engaged, and the family was hosting a dinner party. A guest accidentally knocked over a candelabra, and the flames were about to burn the curtains—your mother just pointed a finger, and the flames stopped, then extinguished themselves. No wand, no incantation, just a point."
Rhys widened his eyes.
"Later I asked her how she did it, and she said that wasn't magic, it was 'Dao'." Cassiopeia shook her head. "I didn't understand, but I knew—it was a power completely different from ours."
She looked down at Rhys, her eyes holding tenderness and a complex emotion.
"Just now when I checked you, I found a very special energy fluctuation in your body. It's not like the traces left by Western magic; it's a bit like... like the aura your mother had."
Rhys opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.
Was the power of the Rabbit Talisman being mistaken by Grandmother as his mother's bloodline inheritance?
"Grandmother, do you mean..."
"I mean," Cassiopeia tapped his nose tip lightly, "you have inherited your mother's talent. That ancient, Eastern power."
She sighed and hugged Rhys tighter.
"If your father knew, he would be very happy."
Rhys didn't speak.
He buried his face in his grandmother's arms, a complex emotion surging in his heart.
Grandmother didn't know about the system, didn't know about the Rabbit Talisman, didn't know about those powers from another world. She attributed everything to his mother's bloodline, explaining this unexplainable phenomenon in a way she could understand.
That was fine too.
He didn't need to explain, didn't need to hide.
Grandmother had already found the "answer" for him.
— —
That night, Rhys sat in his grandmother's room, listening to her tell stories about St. Mungos.
Cassiopeia leaned in an armchair by the fireplace, Rhys curled up in her arms, and the flames in the fireplace crackled, dyeing the whole room a warm orange-red.
"Who was the most difficult patient Grandmother ever saved when you were young?"
Cassiopeia thought for a moment: "A boy cursed by the Dark Arts. He was about... fifteen or sixteen, tortured by the Cruciatus Curse too many times; his entire spirit was almost shattered."
Rhys looked up: "Did you save him?"
"I did," Cassiopeia said. "It took three years to repair him bit by bit. By the time he was discharged, he could already smile."
"What about him now?"
"Now..." Cassiopeia smiled slightly, "he is a Potion Master at St. Mungos; half of your aunt's Potion ingredients are sourced from him."
Rhys widened his eyes: "He became Grandmother's colleague?"
"More or less." Cassiopeia ruffled his hair. "In the healing profession, the happiest thing is watching patients recover and then live well."
Rhys was silent for a while.
"Has Grandmother saved many people?"
"Many," Cassiopeia said. "Too many to count."
"Are there any you couldn't save?"
Cassiopeia's hand paused.
The flames in the fireplace jumped, making a slight crackling sound.
"...Yes." Her voice dropped a little. "Everyone will have patients they cannot save. This is the fate of a healer."
Rhys looked up at his grandmother's face.
The firelight reflected on her face, and in those gray eyes, something seemed to be flickering.
"Is Grandmother sad?"
Cassiopeia looked down at him, and after a long while, smiled softly.
"Sad," she said. "But after being sad, you still have to keep saving the next one."
Rhys buried his face back in her arms.
He thought of those who couldn't be saved.
Father. Mother. Adoptive maternal grandparents.
If only someone could have saved them.
If only Grandmother had been there at the time.
If only...
"Rhys." Cassiopeia's voice came from overhead. "What are you thinking about?"
Rhys said muffledly: "Thinking about Grandmother."
"Thinking what about Grandmother?"
"Thinking Grandmother is amazing."
Cassiopeia laughed, her laughter very light, very gentle.
"Grandmother isn't amazing. Grandmother just lived a few years longer than others and learned a bit more."
Rhys shook his head, sat up from her arms, and looked at her earnestly.
"Grandmother is amazing." He said, his gray eyes full of earnestness. "Grandmother saved so many people."
Cassiopeia looked at him, looking at those earnest eyes, and a warmth surged in her heart.
This child...
"Alright, Grandmother is amazing," she agreed. "Then what does Rhys want to do when you grow up? Be a healer too?"
Rhys thought about it.
Be a healer?
He did want to save people. He wanted to save everyone he cared about.
But he also knew that having the ability of a healer wasn't enough.
He needed power.
The power to prevent harm from happening.
"I want to..." he paused, "I want to protect my family."
Cassiopeia was stunned.
"Protect your family?"
"Hmm." Rhys nodded. "So Grandmother doesn't have to save people, because no one gets hurt."
Cassiopeia looked at him, and suddenly her eyes felt a bit sore.
This child was only six.
A six-year-old child, not thinking about playing, not thinking about food, not thinking about the things normal children would think about—
He was thinking about protecting his family.
Because he had lost before.
Because he knew what loss tasted like.
"Rhys." Cassiopeia hugged him tighter, resting her chin on the top of his head. "Grandmother won't let you get hurt."
Rhys leaned in her arms, listening to her heartbeat.
"Then what if one day I get hurt?" he asked, his voice muffled. "Can Grandmother save me?"
Cassiopeia's hand tightened slightly.
"I can." She said, her voice low but carrying an unquestionable firmness. "No matter when, no matter where, as long as you are hurt, Grandmother will definitely be able to save you."
Rhys didn't speak.
He just curled himself tighter, nesting in his grandmother's arms like a small beast that had found its nest.
The flames in the fireplace burned quietly, and warmth permeated the entire room.
— —
That night, Rhys lay in his bed, recalling the events of the evening.
Grandmother's embrace was warm.
Grandmother's heartbeat was steady.
When Grandmother said "Grandmother won't let you get hurt," there was a power in her voice that made him feel at ease.
He knew that wasn't just comfort.
That was a promise.
A healer's promise.
A grandmother's promise to her grandson.
[System.]
He called out in his heart.
[Present.]
[Grandmother said the energy in my body is like my mother's bloodline.]
[System has recorded.]
[That's fine.] Rhys thought. [She doesn't need to know about the system's existence, doesn't need to know that those powers come from another world. She only needs to know that her grandson is healthy, and that is enough.]
The system was silent for a second.
[Host's desire to protect family has exceeded the normal range.]
[That is because they are worth it.] Rhys said in his heart. [They are things I didn't have in my past life.]
The system didn't reply.
Outside the window, the North Star was still twinkling in the night sky.
Rhys closed his eyes, a trace of a smile still on his lips.
Today, he truly felt—
The warmth of "home" was actually so concrete.
It was Grandmother's embrace.
It was Grandmother's heartbeat.
It was Grandmother's words, "Grandmother won't let you get hurt."
It was the firelight of the fireplace, the summer night breeze, the scent of roses.
It was all of these things, added together, becoming that word—
Home.
Chapter 8: Mountain Demon: First Appearance
In the summer of his sixth year, in a corner of the garden at Star-Swirl Manor, there was a patch of ground that belonged exclusively to Polaris.
It was a patch of dirt that Grandmother had specifically instructed Bangbang to clear, about two meters square, surrounded by a low wooden fence. Grandmother said that children should play in the mud instead of being cooped up in the house reading books all day.
Polaris loved this place very much.
He could spend the entire afternoon here, molding various things out of mud—little animals, little houses, little figures. Bangbang would sometimes squat nearby to watch, and occasionally, it would carefully extend a finger to help mold a few bits, then giggle at its own crooked creations.
This afternoon, Bangbang had been called away by Aunt Lyra to help organize the storeroom, leaving Polaris alone in the mud patch.
The sunlight was warm, making one feel lazy and languid.
Polaris sat cross-legged on the ground, holding a ball of mud in his hands, kneading it aimlessly.
His mind was on other things.
System.
eight demons.
Ever since the Rabbit Talisman had unlocked last time, he had often thought about those settings. The Twelve Talismans, the eight demons, the Ten Masks—would these powers really all come into his hands one by one?
"Mountain Demon, Bogang." He whispered the contents of the setting manual, "Corresponding to the Gen trigram, its ability is devouring growth and brute force, and it can manipulate rock..."
He looked down at the mud in his hands.
What if... what if he could make it turn into rock?
He stared at the clump of mud, trying hard to imagine it hardening, becoming sturdy, and turning into stone in his mind.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Nothing happened.
Polaris sighed and threw the mud back onto the ground.
"It is not that easy." He muttered.
He remembered the System saying that demon abilities required practice to improve, unlike the Talismans, which were at their peak as soon as they were unlocked. But the problem now was—he did not even know how to unlock them.
The Rabbit Talisman was because of his fear of losing Bangbang.
What about the Mountain Demon? What did it need?
He lay down, face up, watching the clouds in the sky.
The clouds drifted slowly, forming the shape of a mountain one moment, then scattering the next.
Mountain. Rock. Hard. Sturdy.
He silently repeated these words in his heart, and images surfaced in his mind—illustrations from some magic books he had seen, those ancient Castles, those city walls built with massive stones.
City walls sturdy enough to protect people.
Capable of blocking any harm...
His consciousness gradually drifted, hovering between wakefulness and a trance.
His fingers were unconsciously digging into the mud on the ground.
Then—crack. A faint, crisp sound.
Polaris sat up abruptly.
He looked down at his hands, at the spot where his fingers had dug—there, a small piece of mud had turned into grey-white rock.
It was not dried mud. It was real rock.
Hard, rough on the surface, with sharp edges, exactly like the stones used for paving the garden paths.
Polaris stared wide-eyed at that piece of rock.
"This..."
He reached out and touched it gingerly. Hard. Cool. It was real.
His heart began to pound wildly.
He looked around—no one was there. Bangbang was still in the storeroom, and the garden was quiet, filled only with the sound of cicadas.
He took a deep breath, pressed his fingers onto the clump of mud, and tried hard to recall the state he had been in just moments ago.
A trance. Half-asleep, half-awake. Thinking of "sturdy," "protect," "Castle" in his mind...
His consciousness drifted again. The mud under his fingers began to change—a small piece turned into rock. Then another small piece. Then a whole section.
When Polaris came to his senses, a small Castle had appeared before him.
It was about as high as his knees, entirely grey-white, with walls, towers, and even tiny battlements. It stood there on the pile that had originally been just ordinary mud, casting a small shadow in the sunlight.
Polaris was completely stunned.
He reached out and touched the Castle's tower. Hard. It was real rock. He had turned an entire pile of mud into a stone Castle.
"I..." He opened his mouth, his voice cracking, "I did it?"
No one answered. Only the sound of cicadas and an occasional breeze.
Polaris stared blankly at the Castle, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him—shock, excitement, and a little bit of fear. Because he knew what this meant. Mountain Demon. Bogang. He had truly awakened.
Just then, Bangbang's voice came from behind him: "Young Master!"
Polaris turned around sharply. Bangbang was running over from the other side of the garden, its ears twitching, a worried expression on its face.
"What is wrong, Young Master? Bangbang thought it heard a sound just now?"
Polaris's heart almost stopped. He looked down at the stone Castle—it was too big, too conspicuous; Bangbangwould see it as soon as it came over. Then Bangbangwould ask where it came from. How did the Young Master do it? Did the Young Master know some kind of magic?
He had not figured out how to explain it yet. It could not be discovered. At least not now.
He subconsciously raised his foot and kicked the Castlewith all his might—Boom! The Castle collapsed. Rock fragments rolled everywhere, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
"Young Master!" Bangbang ran over, staring wide-eyed at the rubble on the ground. "What is this? Where did these stones come from?"
Polaris panted, looking at it. "It is nothing," he said, his voice a bit hoarse, "I... I built it just now, built it with stones."
Bangbang blinked, looking at the rubble on the ground, then back at Polaris. "The Young Master built it?" It squatted down and picked up a piece of rubble. "So amazing! Bangbang cannot build with stones!"
Polaris tugged at the corners of his mouth, forcing a smile. "Bangbang, help me clean this up, would you?"
Bangbang nodded vigorously. "Okay! Bangbang will help the Young Master clean up!"
It began to hop around, picking up the stones, muttering "The Young Master is so amazing" and "Bangbang wants to learn to build with stones too."
Polaris stood there, watching the rock fragments on the ground, looking at his own mud-covered hands. In that moment just now—he had kicked the stone Castle to pieces with his foot. That meant he had indeed turned the mud into rock. It was real. Not a dream, not a hallucination. He had truly awakened the ability of the Mountain Demon.
That night, Polaris lay in bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time. He kept thinking about what happened that afternoon. Why today? Why when he was playing with mud?
He tried hard to recall his state at the time—a trance, half-asleep, half-awake, thinking of "sturdy," "protect," "Castle" in his mind... Wait. Protect.
He remembered the images that had surfaced in his mind when he was lying in the mud that afternoon—ancient Castles, city walls built with massive stones, things sturdy enough to protect people. He wanted to protect his family. He wanted to become someone who could protect them. That longing had never disappeared from his six-year-old heart.
Perhaps... perhaps that was why? Because that longing to "be sturdy enough to protect the people who matter" had triggered the Mountain Demon?
He remembered the Mountain Demon Bogang's abilities—devouring growth, brute force, manipulating rock. What is rock? It is sturdy, it is not easily destroyed, it is something that can be used to build city walls and protect a home. It matched his longing perfectly.
[System.] He called out in his heart. The cold, mechanical voice sounded. [Present.]
[Did you detect what happened this afternoon?]
[Detected. At 15:47 this afternoon, the host unconsciously triggered the Mountain Demon Bogang's ability, converting approximately 2.3 kilograms of mud into rock and constructing a miniature Castle structure.]
[Ability Rating: Primary.]
[Ability Description: Mountain Demon Bogang, corresponding to the Gen trigram of the Eight Trigrams, with core abilities of manipulating rock and devouring growth. The current host's ability level is Primary; it can change the form of mud and rock on a small scale and cannot affect large targets.]
[Improvement Method: Continuous practice, increasing usage frequency and complexity. Intermediate level can manipulate large rock bodies; Advanced level can summon mountains or alter terrain.]
Polaris listened to the System's explanation, his heart gradually calming down. It was just as he thought. It was truly the Mountain Demon. It had truly awakened.
[What are the conditions for awakening?] he asked. [Why today?]
The System was silent for a second. [Detected host's psychological state before awakening: a strong desire to "protect family," a subconscious pursuit of "sturdiness," and the mental construction of "Castle," a protective structure, while in a trance state.]
[Mountain Demon Bogang's core ability is related to "sturdiness" and "protection." The host's obsession resonated with the demon's core, triggering the awakening.]
Polaris suddenly understood. It really was "protection." Because he wanted to protect his family, he had awakened the power to create sturdy things and protect the people who mattered.
[System Prompt: Demon abilities are different from Talismans and require extensive practice to improve. It is recommended that the host perform small-scale practice daily, provided it is not discovered.]
[Additional Prompt: Excessive use of demon abilities may lead to demonic energy corruption, affecting one's temperament. The Tiger Talisman can reconcile and balance this, but it is not yet unlocked. Please pay attention to usage frequency and avoid using the ability during extreme emotional fluctuations.]
Polaris nodded. Demonic energy corruption... he remembered it being mentioned in the settings. But he could not worry about that now. He only knew one thing—he had gained another power. A power that could protect his family. Although it was still very small right now, only able to turn mud into stone and make a small, knee-high Castle, one day he would be able to do more. Build real walls. Build a fortress that could protect the entire family.
Outside the window, the North Star flickered with a faint light. Six-year-old Polaris Black lay in bed, looking at his hand. That hand had just created a stone Castle that afternoon. Although it had been kicked to pieces, it was real. He had done it.
He closed his eyes and thought silently in his heart—Mom, Dad, can you see? Your son has started to grow stronger. One day, he will be strong enough to protect everyone he cares about. One day.
Chapter 9: Snake Talisman · The Person in the Dream
During the summer of his seventh year, the nights at Star-Swirl Manor were as quiet as a pool of deep water.
Polaris lay in bed, his consciousness gradually sinking into dreamland.
In a daze, he felt himself standing in a place filled with mist. He couldn't see anything around him; there was only a vast, boundless white fog.
Where is this?
He took a few steps forward, and the mist gently dispersed, revealing a blurry figure.
It was a woman.
She stood not far away, wearing a moon-white robe, her jet-Black hair falling to her waist. Her face was shrouded in mist, making her features indistinguishable, but that gentle silhouette, that familiar aura—
"Mom?"
Polaris heard his own voice, light as a sleep-talker's murmur.
The figure moved slightly.
"Polaris."
The voice was very light and soft, as if coming from a very, very distant place, yet also like a whisper in his ear.
"Mom..."
Polaris wanted to run over, to see her face clearly, to hug her—but his feet felt as if they were nailed to the ground, unable to move a single step.
"Don't come over," the voice said. "Not yet."
Polaris froze.
"Mom, why?"
The blurry figure looked at him quietly. Although he couldn't see her face, he could feel that gentle gaze.
"You must learn to hide," she said, "to protect yourself."
Hide?
"Mom, I don't understand—"
"You will understand." Her voice grew lighter, as if about to dissipate into the mist. "This is what Mom left for you... you must learn to use it..."
The mist began to surge, and the figure became increasingly blurry.
"Mom! Don't go!"
Polaris struggled desperately, trying to break free from the invisible shackles beneath his feet, trying to chase after her—
"Mom—"
He snapped his eyes open.
—
The star map on the ceiling rotated slowly, and moonlight shone through the window, spreading a blanket of silver-white across the floor.
Polaris lay in bed, gasping for breath.
A dream.
It was a dream.
But that voice... that feeling... it was too real.
He closed his eyes, trying hard to recall the images from the dream. His mother's silhouette, her voice, and the words she spoke—
"You must learn to hide to protect yourself."
Hide?
He opened his eyes and sat up.
Then he froze.
He wasn't in bed.
He was standing in the corridor.
Moonlight shone through the window at the end of the corridor, casting shadows of the window frames onto the floor. He stood barefoot on the cold stone floor, still wearing his pajamas.
When... did he come out?
Polaris looked down at himself, then back behind him—the bedroom door was open, and a corner of the quilt on the bed was tossed aside.
Was he sleepwalking?
No, it wasn't sleepwalking. He had clearly woken up just now, clearly opened his eyes and seen the ceiling—and then the next second, he was here.
What was going on?
Just as he was thinking, a familiar set of footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.
Bangbang.
Polaris turned around and saw Bangbang carrying a cup of hot milk, walking toward him. That was Bangbang's habit—to bring him a cup of hot milk every night, saying "drink it to sleep soundly."
Bangbang drew closer and closer.
Polaris raised his hand, wanting to say hello—
But Bangbang walked right past him.
Without even glancing at him, he walked straight into the bedroom.
"Little Master?" Bangbang's voice came from the bedroom. "Bangbang has brought the milk... Little Master?"
Polaris stood in place, his entire body frozen.
Bangbang hadn't seen him.
He was clearly standing in the middle of the corridor, clearly only two steps away from Bangbang—yet Bangbang acted as if he had seen nothing, walking past him and into the bedroom to look for him.
"Little Master?" Bangbang's voice came from the bedroom, tinged with confusion. "Little Master is not in bed?"
Polaris opened his mouth, wanting to shout "Bangbang, I'm here," but the words caught in his throat.
Because he suddenly realized one thing.
Bangbang couldn't see him.
No one could see him.
He looked down at his hands—the moonlight shone down, and his hands... were semi-transparent.
As if they were about to disappear.
—
"Little Master is gone!"
Bangbang's scream erupted from the bedroom, echoing through the quiet manor.
Polaris stood in the corridor, hearing Bangbang's footsteps rush out, scurrying everywhere in the hallway.
"Little Master! Little Master! Where are you!"
Bangbang ran past him, then back, then past him again, his large eyes filled with panic.
"Bangbang can't find Little Master! Little Master is gone!"
Polaris was stunned.
Had he really... disappeared?
"What's wrong?"
Another voice sounded. Kreacher appeared out of nowhere, standing hunched at the end of the corridor.
"Little Master is gone!" Bangbang rushed over, so anxious that tears were almost coming out. "Bangbang brought milk, Little Master wasn't in bed! Bangbang looked everywhere and couldn't find him!"
Kreacher's brow furrowed.
"Nonsense. How could Little Master be gone?"
"It's true! Bangbang can't find him!"
Kreacher was silent for a second, then muttered, "Fussing little elf... Kreacher will go see..."
He walked toward the bedroom, and as he passed Polaris—he didn't look at him at all either.
Polaris stood in place, watching the two house-elves running back and forth in the corridor, one spinning in circles with anxiety, the other muttering "impossible."
They really couldn't see him.
Was he... invisible?
—
The news quickly spread throughout the manor.
Aunt Lyra was awakened by Bangbang's screams and rushed out wearing a dressing gown. She held her wand, casting Searching Charms in every room, her face growing paler and paler.
"Polaris! Polaris, where are you!"
Her voice carried a hint of trembling.
Polaris stood at the corner of the corridor, watching his aunt's anxious state, wanting to call out but unable to.
Because he discovered something—he didn't know how to change back.
What if he stayed invisible like this forever?
What if he could never change back?
He suddenly felt a bit panicked.
Just then, a steady voice rang out.
"Everyone, be quiet."
Cassiopeia walked down the stairs, her silver-gray hair loose, a cloak casually draped over her nightgown. There was no panic on her face, only a calm focus.
"Mother..." Lyra went to meet her. "Polaris is gone, the Searching Charms can't find him—"
"I know," Cassiopeia interrupted her. "Let me."
She raised her wand and chanted a spell Polaris hadn't heard before. A soft golden light emitted from the tip of the wand, rotating slowly in the air, and then—it suddenly pointed in the direction where Polaris was standing.
Cassiopeia's gaze turned, falling upon him.
No, it fell upon "where he was."
"Polaris," she said, her voice calm. "Stay right there and don't move."
Polaris was taken aback.
Did Grandmother see him?
Cassiopeia walked over quickly and stopped in front of Polaris. Her eyes were fixed on the position where he was—even though she couldn't see him, she knew he was there.
"Don't be afraid," she said softly. "Grandmother is here."
Polaris's nose suddenly felt a bit prickly.
Cassiopeia raised her wand and began to chant. This time it was a silver-white light that enveloped Polaris's entire body.
Within the light, Polaris looked down at his body—it was semi-transparent, like a blurry mass of mist.
Then, as the spell proceeded, that mass of mist gradually solidified, its color deepening—
Finally, he became fully visible.
"Grandmother..."
Polaris looked up at his grandmother.
Cassiopeia knelt down, cupping his face in her hands, examining him carefully. In those gray eyes, there was concern, relief, and a complex emotion.
"Polaris," she asked softly, "do you know what just happened?"
Polaris shook his head.
He couldn't mention the system. At least not now.
But maybe... he could say something else?
"I dreamed of Mom," he said in a small voice. "Mom said I must learn to hide to protect myself. Then I woke up and... and I was standing in the corridor. Bangbang walked past me and couldn't see me."
Cassiopeia's hand paused slightly.
"You dreamed of your mother?"
Polaris nodded.
Cassiopeia was silent for a moment, then sighed softly.
"Your mother's bloodline is even stronger than I imagined," she murmured.
Lyra and the two house-elves had already gathered around. Bangbang looked at Polaris with teary eyes, wanting to pounce on him but not daring to, afraid he would disappear again. Kreacher stood to the side, his cloudy eyes filled with a complex emotion—as if he were looking at Polaris, yet also looking at someone else.
"Mother, are you saying..." Lyra began.
"This is a type of Eastern Magic," Cassiopeia stood up, looking at everyone present, her voice suddenly becoming serious. "Invisibility. Your mother used a similar ability when she was young."
Hearing this, Polaris felt a slight stir in his heart.
Grandmother was using the "Eastern bloodline" explanation again.
Just like with the Rabbit Talisman last time.
"Mother, Polaris..." Lyra looked at her nephew, worry in her eyes. "He's still so young. Could this ability be dangerous?"
Cassiopeia was silent for a while, then turned to everyone present.
"No one is to speak of what happened today."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
Bangbang nodded vigorously. "Bangbang won't say! Bangbang won't tell anyone!"
Kreacher lowered his head. "Kreacher knows... Kreacherwill not speak..."
Lyra looked at her mother. "Mother, are you afraid..."
"Afraid of what?" Cassiopeia sneered. "Afraid someone will know my grandson has special abilities? Afraid those so-called Pure-blood supremacists will target him? Or afraid that Dumbledore will want to use him as some kind of Savior once he finds out?"
Polaris was stunned.
Dumbledore?
"Mother, Headmaster Dumbledore..." Lyra tried to say something.
"It doesn't matter what kind of person he is," Cassiopeiainterrupted. "What matters is that Polaris is my grandson and a member of the Black family. How he uses his abilities is for him to decide, not for others to arrange."
She looked down at Polaris, her gaze softening.
"Polaris, remember Grandmother's words."
Polaris nodded.
"Your ability is a gift your mother left for you. At home, you can practice it however you want and use it however you like." She paused. "But outside, you must learn to hide. Do you understand?"
Polaris nodded again.
"Then..." Lyra asked cautiously, "in the future, when he uses these abilities at home..."
"Let him," Cassiopeia said. "Let him use them at home, under our watch. That way, if anything happens, we can help him in time."
She looked at Polaris, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.
"From today on, practice whatever you want. Bangbang, Kreacher, your aunt, and I will all help you. But there's one condition—"
"What?"
"Don't practice so much that you disappear for good," Cassiopeia lightly tapped the tip of his nose. "Grandmother doesn't want to have to get up in the middle of the night to find you again."
Polaris couldn't help but smile.
—
Late that night, Polaris stood before the mirror in his room.
Cassiopeia had already returned to her room to rest, Aunt Lyra had also gone back to hers, and Bangbang stood guard at the door, saying he would "protect the Little Master so he wouldn't disappear again." Before leaving, Kreacher glanced at him and muttered, "Master Regulusalso liked to look in the mirror when he was young," then vanished from the doorway.
Polaris in the mirror looked the same as usual.
Gray eyes, jet-Black hair, the innocent face of a seven-year-old.
But just now, he had disappeared from this very mirror.
[System.]
He called out in his mind.
[Present.]
[Was that... the Snake Talisman just now?]
[Yes. The Snake Talisman has been unlocked—Invisibility.]
[Ability Description: The user and objects in contact can achieve an Invisible state. No proficiency requirement; peak performance upon unlocking.]
Polaris listened and nodded silently.
It was the same setting he knew.
[What were the awakening conditions?] he asked. [Was it because I dreamed of Mom?]
The system was silent for a second.
[Detected that the host received a strong "hide" intent in the dream. This intent originated from the host's longing for his mother and the obsession with "protecting oneself" conveyed by the mother's image.]
[The innate ability of the Snake Talisman is related to "Stealth." The host's longing and obsession triggered a resonance with the talisman, completing the unlock.]
Polaris looked at himself in the mirror.
The mother in the dream had a blurry face and a gentle voice.
She said, "You must learn to hide to protect yourself."
Then he woke up and became invisible.
Was it Mom?
Was Mom helping him?
Or was it just that he missed her too much, wanted her protection so badly, that his subconscious activated the talisman?
He didn't know.
But he preferred to believe it was Mom.
The mother he had never truly met, yet who lived in his heart.
"Mom," he said softly to the mirror, "is it you?"
His reflection looked at him silently, offering no answer.
But the moonlight from outside spilled in, landing on his shoulder like a gentle response.
Chapter 10: mask of ninja · Terror in the Cellar
In the winter of his seventh year, Star-Swirl Manor was blanketed in a thick layer of snow.
Polaris stood at the kitchen doorway, looking out at the vast, white world. Bangbang squatted beside him, its large eyes also fixed on the outside, with puffs of white steam escaping its mouth.
"Young Master, it is very cold outside," Bangbang said.
"Mm."
"Does Young Master want to go out and play?"
Polaris thought for a moment and nodded.
Although the winter was cold, the manor after the snow had a unique charm. The trees, paths, and fountains that were usually familiar were covered by snow, taking on an unfamiliar appearance, as if they belonged to another world.
Bangbang jumped up excitedly: "Bangbang will play with Young Master! Bangbang will help Young Master build a snowman!"
It ran out, and Polaris followed behind.
The two of them ran in the snow for a while, built a crooked snowman, and had a snowball fight. Bangbangwould shriek exaggeratedly whenever it was hit, and Polaris couldn't help but laugh.
While playing, Polaris suddenly remembered a place.
On the west side of the manor, there was an abandoned old house. Grandmother had said that it was the old residence of the House of Black from many years ago, but it had been left vacant after the new manor was built. Polaris had never gone inside, but he had seen it from afar a few times—gray stone walls covered in vines, with pitch-black windows that seemed to be staring at people.
"Bangbang," he said, "let's go over and take a look."
Bangbang looked in the direction he pointed, its ears twitching.
"That way... that way is the old house. Grandmother said we cannot go there."
"Why can't we go?"
Bangbang thought for a moment: "Because... because the old house has a cellar. Grandmother said that if a child falls in, they cannot climb back out."
Polaris's eyes lit up.
A cellar.
An exploration.
Isn't this the best kind of adventure?
"We will just go and look, not go inside," he said. "We will just take a look and come back."
Bangbang looked at him hesitantly, then at the old house, and finally nodded vigorously.
"Bangbang will go with Young Master! Bangbang will protect Young Master!"
—
The old house was even more dilapidated than Polaris had imagined.
The lock on the door had long since rusted, and it opened with a gentle push. Inside, it was pitch black, and a smell of mold and dust rushed toward them. Bangbang sneezed and rubbed its nose.
"Young Master, it's so dark..."
Polaris pulled the wand from his pocket—it was his father's wand, which his grandmother had given him after realizing his talent for magic, and she had taught him a few simple spells, including Lumos.
"Lumos."
A small orb of light ignited at the tip of the wand, illuminating the surroundings.
They stood in a spacious hall, surrounded by dust-covered furniture. Blackened portraits hung on the walls, the figures within them long since blurred. The ceiling was very high, with the remains of a chandelier hanging precariously above.
"It's so scary..." Bangbang gripped the corner of Polaris's clothes.
Polaris was also a bit nervous, but more than that, he was excited.
This was a real adventure.
They walked forward slowly, crossing the hall and entering a corridor. On both sides of the corridor were rows of tightly closed doors, their copper handles covered in green rust.
"Young Master, let's go back..." Bangbang whispered.
"Just a little further," Polaris said. "Just a little."
They reached the end of the corridor, where there was a small door, shorter than all the others.
Polaris pushed it, and the door opened.
Behind it was a set of stone stairs leading downwards, pitch black and bottomless.
The cellar.
Polaris's heart rate accelerated.
"Young Master, don't go down..." Bangbang's voice was trembling.
"I'll just take one look." Polaris extended his wand forward, trying to illuminate the steps below—
He stepped into empty air.
The stone step beneath his feet had collapsed at some point, and he tumbled forward. The wand flew from his hand, the orb of Lumos tumbling through the air, illuminating the stone walls that flashed past—
"Young Master!"
Bangbang's scream rang out from behind, followed by a flapping sound, as if something else had also fallen down.
Polaris tumbled in the darkness, landing on something soft, and then continued rolling down. He didn't know how long he rolled, but finally, he slammed heavily into a wall and stopped.
Pain.
His whole body ached.
He lay on the ground, gasping for air, his mind a blank.
After a long while, he slowly regained his senses.
Darkness.
Pitch black all around.
No wand, no light, he couldn't see anything.
"Bangbang..." he called out, his voice echoing in the cellar.
No one answered.
"Bangbang!"
Still no answer.
Polaris struggled to stand up, using the wall for support as he walked forward slowly. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, and he nearly fell several times. He reached out to grope in the darkness, hoping to find his wand or to touch Bangbang.
Then his foot kicked something.
Something soft and warm.
He crouched down and reached out to touch it—
It was Bangbang.
"Bangbang!" He shook the small body, "Bangbang, wake up!"
Bangbang did not respond.
Polaris's hand touched Bangbang's head and felt something sticky.
Blood.
Bangbang was bleeding.
His heart clenched tightly.
"Bangbang! Bangbang, wake up! Don't scare me!" He shook Bangbang desperately, his voice filled with sobs.
But Bangbang still did not respond.
Polaris panicked.
He looked around everywhere, wanting to find the wand, wanting to find light, wanting to find a way out—but he could see nothing. There was only boundless darkness, only cold stone walls, and only the unconscious Bangbangin his arms.
"Someone help!" He shouted desperately, "Help! Is anyone there!"
No one answered.
The cellar was too deep; the people above couldn't hear him at all.
"Grandmother! Aunt! Kreacher!" He shouted one name after another, his throat on the verge of tearing, "Bangbangis hurt! Help!"
The only response was his own echo.
Polaris held Bangbang, trembling all over.
Cold.
Fear.
Helplessness.
He remembered what his grandmother had said—"If a child falls in, they cannot climb back out."
He thought of his father and mother, and of those who had left and never returned.
Would he die here?
Would Bangbang die here?
No.
He couldn't.
He could not die here.
Neither could Bangbang.
He had promised Bangbang that he would protect it.
He had promised.
—
Just at that moment, a strange power surged into his mind.
The power was cold and sharp, like countless blades stabbing into his consciousness simultaneously. Polaris was in so much pain he almost screamed, but he gritted his teeth and held Bangbang tightly.
Then, he saw light.
Not the light of a wand, not any light he was familiar with.
It was a dark purple radiance that emerged from above his head, gradually solidifying into a physical object—
It was a mask.
An exquisite, dark red mask with mysterious patterns.
It sat tilted on his head, covering half of his face. A cold sensation radiated from where the mask touched his skin, causing his mind to become instantly clear.
The fear vanished.
The panic vanished.
Only a strange sense of calm remained.
He lifted his head and looked at the surrounding darkness.
Then, with a thought.
Those stone walls began to ripple.
Streaks of black shadows emerged from the walls, as if beings infiltrating this world from another. They had no faces, no features, only human-shaped outlines, wielding sharp ninja swords.
The Ninja Corps.
Polaris looked at them, feeling no fear, only a sense of calm that felt natural.
"Take me up," he said, his voice so cold it didn't sound like his own.
Those shadow ninjas silently surrounded them, several cold hands grabbing him and Bangbang, lifting them gently.
Then they began to move.
They did not walk; they glided. They moved vertically up along the stone wall, as if gravity did not exist for them.
Polaris was held at the front, watching those shadow ninjas pass silently through the darkness, traversing the long distance he had tumbled down.
A few minutes later, he saw light.
It was the faint daylight filtering in from the entrance of the cellar.
The shadow ninjas placed them gently on the ground, then stepped back a few paces, standing silently.
Polaris looked down at Bangbang—Bangbang was still unconscious, but the blood on its head seemed to have stopped.
He lifted his head again and looked at those shadow ninjas.
They did not move, just stood there, waiting for his next command.
Just then, a groan from Bangbang sounded.
"Ugh..."
Polaris looked down and saw Bangbang slowly open its eyes.
Those round, large eyes blinked, focusing on Polaris's face, then moved upward, to the top of his head—
"Young Master..." Bangbang's voice was weak and confused, "What is that?"
Polaris raised his hand to touch the top of his head. A cold texture, exquisite patterns.
The mask was still there.
With a thought, the mask dissolved into a streak of red light and vanished.
Those shadow ninjas also disappeared along with it, as if they had never appeared.
Bangbang stared at him blankly, then looked at the empty surroundings, its face full of confusion.
"Young Master... just now that... what was that thing? The black one... and the one on Young Master's head..."
Polaris did not answer.
He looked down at his own hands.
Just a moment ago, he had summoned those shadow ninjas.
They obeyed his commands.
They saved him and Bangbang.
But at that moment, he felt no fear, no panic, none of the emotions he should have had.
Only a cold sense of calm.
That kind of calm, thinking about it now, made him feel a little afraid.
—
[Detected that the host has triggered the mask awakening in extreme fear.]
The system's voice sounded in his mind.
[mask of ninja has been fully unlocked—can summon the Ninja Corps.]
[Mask Description: The mask of ninja corresponds to the Ninja Corps of the Shadowkhans, capable of summoning Shadow Ninjas skilled in stealth and cold weapon combat. The quantity increases with the growth of the host's mental power.]
[Wearing method: Worn tilted on the head, it can maintain the host's normal temperament; if worn directly covering the face, it can unleash full power, but it will temporarily affect the personality, causing the host to enter a state of extreme calm.]
[Tip: The power of the mask is a double-edged sword; it is recommended to use it with caution.]
Polaris listened to the system's explanation, his gaze falling on his open palms.
He still remembered that cold sensation from just now.
That was not fear.
Not anger.
Not any emotion he was familiar with.
But a kind of... absolute calm.
As if all emotions had been drained away, leaving only pure rationality.
If every time he used the mask he would become like that—
Would he still be himself?
—
"Young Master?"
Bangbang's voice pulled him back to reality. The house-elf had sat up, clutching its head, but its eyes were still looking at him with concern.
"What is wrong, Young Master? Are you hurt? Let Bangbang see—"
"I'm fine." Polaris interrupted it, "Bangbang, you have a wound on your head, we must go back and find Grandmother."
Bangbang paused, touched its head, and felt a handful of dried blood.
"Bangbang is bleeding?" It blinked, then suddenly remembered something, "Young Master! Did Young Master fall? Bangbang remembers Young Master falling down! Bangbang also fell down! What happened later? What happened later?"
What happened later?
Later, he summoned the Ninja Corps and saved them.
But he could not say that.
At least not now.
"Later we climbed up," he said, "You fainted, and I carried you up on my back."
Bangbang's eyes widened: "Young Master carried Bangbang up? So high? How did Young Master do it?"
"Just... climbed one step at a time." Polaris averted his gaze, "Let's go, let's go back."
He stood up and reached out his hand toward Bangbang.
Bangbang took his hand and stood up, but its eyes were still looking at him suspiciously.
"Young Master, that black thing from just now... and the one on Young Master's head... Bangbang really saw it."
Polaris was silent for a second.
"Bangbang."
"Hm?"
"Don't tell anyone about today's events."
Bangbang paused, then nodded vigorously.
"Bangbang won't say! Bangbang won't tell anyone!" It paused, then asked in a whisper, "But Young Master... what was that?"
Polaris looked at it, looking into the pure trust in those round, large eyes.
"It is..." He thought for a moment, "It is my secret. A secret that can protect us."
Bangbang blinked, then revealed a big smile.
"Young Master has a secret! Bangbang also has a secret! Bangbang will not tell anyone!"
It reached out its hand, and Polaris also reached out his, and the two hands were held tightly together.
—
By the time they returned to the main house, it was almost dark.
Cassiopeia was standing at the doorway, her expression terrifyingly gloomy. Seeing Polaris and the blood-covered Bangbang, she rushed over in three steps, scooping up Polaris.
"Where did you go! Grandmother has been looking for you all afternoon!"
Polaris opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Cassiopeia had already seen the bloodstain on Bangbang's head.
"Bangbang is hurt?" Her voice suddenly turned cold, "What happened?"
Bangbang lowered its head and did not speak.
Polaris spoke: "Grandmother, we went to play by the old house, Bangbang fell, and hit its head. I carried it back."
Cassiopeia stared into his eyes.
Those gray eyes were as calm as a deep pool of water at this moment.
Too calm.
So calm that he didn't seem like a child who had just experienced something.
But she did not press further.
"Come in," she said, "Bangbang, come with me to the infirmary."
—
That night, Bangbang's wound was treated, with Cassiopeia bandaging it herself. She muttered while bandaging, and Bangbang lowered its head and listened obediently, occasionally stealing a glance at Polaris.
Polaris sat to the side, not saying a word the entire time.
He was thinking about that mask.
Thinking about those shadow ninjas.
Thinking about that cold sensation.
At night, he lay in bed, looking at the star map on the ceiling.
Then, with a thought, the mask once again appeared above his head.
Dark red, exquisite, cold.
He reached out, took it off his head, and held it in his hands.
The mask looked at him silently—if those empty eye sockets could be called "looking."
[System,] he asked in his mind, [Will the power of the mask... affect my temperament?]
[Yes.] The system's answer was very direct, [Prolonged wearing, especially when worn directly covering the face, will gradually affect the host's emotions, causing them to approach the combat state of the leader of the Shadowkhans—cold, rational, and efficiency-oriented.]
[But when worn tilted, it can maintain the host's normal temperament. It is recommended to keep it tilted during daily use, and only wear it directly when necessary.]
Polaris nodded.
He looked at the mask in his hands, at those exquisite patterns, at those empty eye sockets.
This was a powerful force.
It could summon an army, it could protect himself and his family.
But it was also a double-edged sword.
Used well, it is protection.
Used poorly, one might lose oneself.
He put the mask away and closed his eyes.
The North Star outside the window was still flickering.
Seven-year-old Polaris Black had, for the first time, possessed an army of his own.
But he also realized for the first time—
Some powers require a price.