My Trash Talent Is Actually OP!
Chapter 56 - 56: System Update [2]

"So I am permitted to kill to finish the process?" Asher mumbled as his eyes ran over the words, unaware of Nova and his mother's silence as they watched him stare blankly and talk to himself.

'Not bad. Not like I like the idea of killing... but then, there are people who don't need to live... like that all-knowing stalker.'

'Naomi, and most especially the entire Saint Liora and their master guild.'

He thought, now having a conversation with his inner self, until the screen switched to display more information.

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[Secret Evolution Triggered—Primary Job Upgraded: Lord of Draconic Souls (Status: Unlocked).]

Description: A unique evolution of the Necromancer Class. Grants dominion over the souls of draconic beings, allowing fusion, summoning, and assimilation of ancient dragon powers.

Unlock Conditions: 100

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Awaiting Tasks

> > Rebuild Army

>>Raise First Dragon

>>Reclaim Father's Soul

Progress: Null

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[Sub-Class: Advanced Necromancer]

> > Details

Skill Bonus: Enhanced soul binding, corpse reinforcement, essence absorption.

Passive: Undead Synergy (Rank II): Undead near the caster gain increased resilience and affinity to commands.

New Trait: Muscle Memory – The stronger your emotional tie to a fallen soul, the easier it is to summon echoes or fragments of their presence.

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Asher stayed still, breathing slowly as the system messages faded. The dizziness began to ease, but the burning of the poison in his shoulder seemed to worsen.

Nova tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. "Asher?" she called quietly, but he didn't reply, and she assumed he was in a daze until...

His shadow deepened unnaturally. Then a mask shimmered faintly over his face—black, with hollow, empty sockets that pulsed at the center.

His sclera were no longer white, but darkened to a rich amber hue, with slitted, thin irises.

Along the curve of his neck and up to his jawline, silver-blue scales flickered, glinting like polished crystal. Two curved horns shimmered faintly on his crown, forming a silhouette on the ground. Then, just as it appeared, it was gone.

Asher blinked again, his features returned to normal, and he only smiled to assure them once again he was fine.

Nova didn't speak, but her lips pressed into a tight line.

His mother hadn't noticed. She was too focused on the ground, still wiping her eyes. But Nova had seen it. Whatever that was.

Asher didn't meet her gaze. Not yet.

Instead, he exhaled and turned back to his mother. "Can you walk? We should head back."

Hannah nodded softly, though her legs wobbled as she stood fully upright. "Yes… yes, I can."

They stepped away from the grave. The white ivy no longer pulsed—it had gone still, as if sleeping again. Asher looked at it once more. He said nothing, but the thought of his father's soul being ripped from his body burned behind his eyes.

Nova turned to him then, after taking a few steps away from the cemetery. "I'll escort you two back to the edge of the ward. Then I'll go check on Zero at HQ. If she's stable, I'll bring her here if Yumiko lets me."

Asher nodded. "Good. If Sinnett shows up, tell him to wait on the roof and keep your eyes on Zero, but don't say anything about this place. I'll return later to dig around."

Nova raised a brow. "Alone?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. This part... I think I need to do a little more searching."

Nova didn't argue. She only gave a soft, "Alright. Don't stay long."

As they turned to leave the cemetery, Hannah kept her hand looped around Asher's arm for support. But she walked slower now. There was something on her mind.

"Asher?" she said gently.

He looked down. "Yeah?"

She hesitated. Her eyes were searching his face. "Did you know? About Ria?"

Asher blinked. "What about her?"

"That she's a dragon."

He slowed his pace. "She… told me herself. Blurted it out after we played a bit." It was a lie, but his voice stayed even to keep it normal.

Hannah looked at him long and hard, then mumbled, "I see."

She didn't push further.

But something about the way she said it made Asher wonder just how much she knew. She knew about dragons and about the dungeons. But he filed the thought away for later.

He had more time anyway, and the academy wasn't demanding much from them, which was also a good thing.

They walked the rest of the way in silence until they reached the entrance of the apartment building. Nova gave one last look at him, smiled, and waved before vanishing into the shadow of another building like she was never there.

Once Asher and his mother had arrived in the apartment, Alya and Ria were fast asleep on the floor behind the sofa, but Asher didn't move them, since it was quite cool there.

Hannah sank into the old couch with a tired sigh, while he moved to get her a glass of water, but she stopped him.

"There's something else," she said, her voice low.

He turned instantly.

She reached into her coat and pulled out a small, worn-out photograph.

It was old. The edges torn and bent, the color faded, but clear enough. A man stood in the center of the frame, tall, proud, with eyes like a slow-burning fire.

His hair was held back in a messy bun that left strands falling over his face, his skin tanned from years under the sun, with broad shoulders and exactly the same eyes like his.

Except his were brighter. However, there was a faint resemblance to Veylan. But not identical, or maybe he was overthinking it.

Asher stared for a while, then he glanced at her.

"That's him?" he asked.

Hannah nodded. "Your father. The day he was promoted to Guild Master of the Outcast's Guild."

Asher blinked slowly. "He was a captain?"

"The last one before they disbanded," she said. "People don't talk about it much. But everyone knew his name. Respected him. Even if most don't remember his face… they remember his eyes, that you inherited."

Asher felt the words sink into him.

The Outcast's Guild again, and his father was also well known.

Maybe that was why Sinnett stalked him even after just meeting him. Or maybe almost everyone knew the name Morgan and often called him that, instead of Asher.

His father's son.

He should be proud—he was—but not seeing the old guy physically was painful enough.

Hannah leaned back into the cushions, her exhaustion finally catching up to her.

Asher set the photo down on the table. He stared at it for a long time, tracing the edges with his eyes.

His hands tightened into fists again.

"I'll find him, Mom. No matter what."

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