Chapter 217: Control Your Innate Ability
Karnessa walks forward slowly, barefoot against the cool grass. Her breath hitches with every step. She stands in the center, eyes darting toward the trees, waiting for something—anything.
Alix's voice cuts through the morning quiet like a blade.
"Survive."
And then he vanishes.
Karnessa blinks. Her mouth opens slightly. "…Wha—?"
Snap.
A branch cracks from the right.
Her soul nearly leaves her body.
Something heavy thuds onto the forest floor behind the treeline. A low growl follows. Her blood runs cold.
From the shadows, a beast steps forward—thick fur matted with dirt and dried blood, claws like hooked daggers, yellow eyes locked on her. A Tier 3 predator. Its maw drips with anticipation.
Karnessa takes a trembling step back. Her voice comes out hoarse.
"Master…?"
No answer.
She looks around, heart pounding, but Alix is gone. Not a trace of him anywhere.
The beast growls again and begins circling.
Her pulse quickens, vision narrowing. The pressure in her chest rises, threatening to explode. She wants to scream. Wants to run. But she knows—there's no escape.
If she dies here, she dies.
The sigil on her chest thrums, faintly reacting.
'He left me. He really left me.' Her fingers shake. 'Is this it? Is this what he wanted?'
Then—somewhere, unseen, Alix's voice murmurs softly to himself.
"The fastest way to control your innate ability… is to put you at death's door."
He crouches unseen behind a rock at the edge of the clearing, eyes locked on her. Watching. Waiting.
The beast snarls louder now, pacing.
Karnessa's breath turns ragged. Panic churns in her gut. Her legs lock.
Do something.
Her body refuses to move, but her instincts scream louder with every heartbeat.
Do something.
The beast lunges.
Karnessa throws herself to the side, rolling across the grass with a gasp as claws rake the space where she stood. The creature snarls, snapping at her heels as she scrambles upright, heart hammering in her chest.
"I don't want to die!" she chokes out—but there's no one to hear it. No one to save her.
No one except herself.
The beast comes again, faster this time.
She ducks just in time, feeling the wind of its swipe graze her cheek. Something cracks inside her—fear turning into raw desperation. Her body moves before she can think, lashing out with an open palm.
She doesn't even touch the beast.
But blood—its blood—spurts from a thin line across its side, as if carved by an invisible blade.
The beast reels back with a pained roar.
Karnessa freezes. Her hand is shaking, but glowing faintly—red, warm, alive. Her veins burn. She looks down at her skin. Lines of energy shimmer beneath it like threads of molten crimson, pulsing in rhythm with her breath.
"I… did that?" she whispers, stunned.
The beast snarls again and charges—but something changes in her eyes this time. No longer wide with helplessness.
Now… focused.
Karnessa slides back, and the air ripples around her. Her presence sharpens. The beast stops mid-pounce, snarling as if suddenly uncertain. Blood drips from its earlier wound, and she feels it. She feels it like it's part of her.
"I never fought before…" she whispers to herself, standing straighter.
"But I've always had this strength…"
Her voice trembles—not with fear, but awakening.
"I was born with it."
She now remembers the way her tribes used to glance at her with unease—even as a child. How birds fell from the sky when she cried. How water turned pink when she got scared. Her mother never explained it. Her father never talked about it.
She lived like a normal civilian—quiet, careful, avoiding attention. Until the humans came. Until her tribe burned. Until she was caged.
But now—now the cage is open.
Karnessa raises her hand again. Blood surges from the wound on the beast's side, spiraling unnaturally, responding to her silent command. The creature roars in confusion, its own lifeblood turning against it.
Control it.
Alix's voice echoes in her memory.
Karnessa's hand tightens.
The blood wraps like a chain around the beast's throat.
Panting, trembling, Karnessa finally drops her hand.
The blood falls. The beast collapses, dead.
She stands there, shaking, hair wild, eyes burning.
Alix steps out from behind the trees, his boots quiet on the grass. His hands are in his pockets, his expression unreadable as he approaches the center of the clearing.
"Congratulations," he says calmly. "You can now control your innate ability."
Karnessa turns sharply toward him, breathing hard. Her eyes widen—not just in shock, but something deeper. Relieved. Shaken.
"You… you didn't leave," she says, voice barely above a whisper.
Alix stops a few steps away, watching her.
"I was close by," he says. "Always was."
Karnessa lowers her gaze. "I thought… I thought you abandoned me."
Alix tilts his head slightly. "Are you mad?"
She's quiet for a long moment. Then she says softly, "A slave can't be mad at their master."
He exhales faintly through his nose and glances down at the beast's corpse. "You've got power, Karnessa. You were born with it. But raw strength doesn't mean much without control. So now…"
He gestures toward the edge of the clearing, where another beast—a smaller, leaner one—is being slowly herded into view by a pressure trap Alix had set earlier.
"Again."
Karnessa stands quietly, eyes still fixed on the fallen beast as its blood soaks into the forest floor. Her fingers twitch. The red glow in her veins is fading, but it hasn't disappeared—not completely. It lingers, waiting.
Alix walks toward the edge of the clearing, where he takes a seat on a moss-covered stone. He crosses one leg over the other, resting an elbow on his knee. His eyes remain on her—calm, watchful, unblinking.
"This time," he says, "don't rely on your enemy's blood."
Karnessa blinks, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Alix says, "use your own."
She stares at him. "…My own?"
"You can't always wait for the enemy to bleed first," he explains. "Control means freedom. That includes creating your own weapon when nothing else is available."
Her gaze flickers toward the dagger on her hip—the one he gave her earlier for survival, not offense. She hesitates, then draws it slowly. The edge gleams dull silver in the morning light.
Alix nods once. "A shallow wound. Just enough to draw blood. The more you practice with it directly, the more control you'll gain."
Karnessa holds the blade for a moment, breathing deeply.
Then, without another word, she raises her left hand and makes a clean, swift slice across the palm.
The pain is sharp, but manageable. Her breath catches, and blood wells up from the cut, slow at first—then faster.
"Good," Alix says quietly from the side. "Now focus."
She holds her hand steady, palm facing upward. The blood drips down—but doesn't reach the ground.
It halts in midair, trembling.
Karnessa furrows her brow, concentrating. Her breath slows. Her fingers shift.
The blood floats, twisting, forming a single, thin strand. Then it sharpens—tightens.
A needle.
Thin, glimmering red. Suspended like glass under sunlight.
Karnessa's eyes widen in awe. "I… did that?"
Alix's voice comes low and steady. "Not bad for a first try. Now shape another. Control the density. Don't just move the blood—command it."
She grits her teeth and focuses. Another drop rises, merging with the first. The needle thickens slightly, its edges becoming clearer, deadlier.
She extends her fingers. The needle zips forward, slicing through a leaf ten paces away.
Karnessa gasps.
Alix gives the faintest nod, the corner of his mouth twitching in approval.
"Again," he says. "Smaller this time. Try three."
Karnessa breathes deeply, the sting in her palm grounding her as she raises her hand once more.
The blood obeys.
From pain, a weapon.
From fear, control.
And for the first time in her life, Karnessa doesn't feel like she's breaking apart.
She feels like she's becoming something whole.
The air is still again. The forest around them watches silently, as if nature itself holds its breath.
Karnessa's knees tremble. Her chest rises and falls in sharp bursts. Her palm is slick with blood, but the three crimson needles floating before her are sharp, stable… precise.
She flicks her fingers forward.
The needles shoot through the air and pierce the approaching beast in its joints—one to the shoulder, one to the leg, one just beneath the eye. The creature shrieks, staggering, then collapses mid-charge with a heavy thud.
Silence follows.
Karnessa lowers her hand slowly.
And drops to her knees.
Alix is on his feet before the dust settles. He crosses the clearing in a few strides and kneels beside her, catching her before she falls forward completely. Her breathing is ragged, her skin pale.
"No mana left," she mumbles. Her voice is dazed, eyes glassy. "I used too much…"
"I know," Alix says, supporting her gently. "Don't move."
He props her up against a tree, then checks her pulse and pupils with practiced precision. Everything's stable—just drained.
He exhales slowly, then looks at the beast's body, pierced through with nothing but sharpened blood. His thoughts turn inward.
'What a good innate ability…'
She doesn't need skills. Doesn't need weapons. Not even equipment. Just blood, focus, and mana.
In all his forces, only ten have this kind of innate ability— especially his five Marshalls, each one molded into legends.
But Karnessa is different. Raw. Untouched. Still blooming.
Alix leans back, eyes narrowing.
'Still… if she had a skill to pair with it… something made for blood control…'
He frowns slightly. Those kinds of skill books are rare. He's not even sure how many he has.
He glances down at Karnessa again. She's trying to sit up, sweat clinging to her brow.