The Poet's System
Chapter 83: Survival

Chapter 83: Survival

With the world frozen in time, and Spirit walking toward Daylan with fury flooding his eyes, it felt like Daylan’s life was about to end. But before Spirit could reach him, someone else burst into the room.

His eyes were white like snow, and his hair was unbelievably pale—like a dreamy cloud. It looked soft and cozy, and hovered gently as if untouched by gravity. His body appeared young, yet his skin was pitch black, like charcoal.

Spirit’s attention immediately shifted toward them as Pry also entered the room. The moment she stepped in, her cat form dropped to the floor, and an illusion emerged from its body.

A woman’s face appeared—pitch black, wrapped in white feathers, with chains tightly coiled around her body and her arms crossed over her chest. Her blonde hair flickered in the air. She looked no different from a prisoner.

"Blind Prophet," she said with a warm voice, turning to him. They exchanged a nod.

In an instant, metallic crosses dropped from thin air, slamming into the ground and cracking it as they formed a circle around Spirit. His eyes darted wildly, and his head snapped around in confusion.

Blind outstretched his hand toward him, and chains—identical to the ones wrapped around Pry—shot out and coiled tightly around Spirit, slamming him to the floor. Moments later, a pink gas sprayed from the crosses surrounding him.

It lasted no more than ten seconds before everything returned to normal. The world resumed its rotation, and time began to move once again.

Daylan’s eyes danced with confusion. Just a second ago, Asaemon had been in front of him—now he was lying in the middle of metallic crosses, bound tightly.

Using what little strength he had, he turned his head to the left and saw Pry approaching in her cat form. Blind stood at the entrance in his usual form, arms folded across his chest.

"What the fuck is going on?" he murmured.

The next thing Daylan saw was his vision shooting upward from the ground, focusing on Pry. His sight blurred, and then darkness swallowed him as he lost consciousness.

He was unconscious for a full day, and Medora had to carefully tend to him every few hours—checking his ribs to make sure they were intact and preventing any internal bleeding.

It was early afternoon when Daylan woke with a pounding headache. He clenched his teeth, pushed through the agony, and made his way to the living room.

His memories were fuzzy; he couldn’t quite recall what happened after he was struck. Still, he wanted to confirm and get started on their training for the day.

But when he reached the living room, Pry was the only one there, sleeping on the sofa. He called out for Asaemon as he made his way to the training room.

One glance at the crosses surrounding Asaemon, still chained to the floor, brought back the heavy feeling he’d had before collapsing.

He hurried outside. In front of the house, flames raced through the forest—but strangely, not a single tree was burning. Instead, they all seemed to be growing.

"What the..."

He remained confused, shaking his head to shake off the thought that he might be dreaming or hallucinating—but it all seemed real. He descended the stairs and approached the forest, where both Medora and Blind stood amidst the trees.

The moment Blind supported him, he gestured toward Daylan and yelled, "Come here."

Daylan still felt confused. He wanted to activate Dark Spiral but hesitated. Slowly, he outstretched his hand into the flames—it didn’t burn at all. Instead, it seemed to pulse with energy.

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with amazement as he stepped into the flames. His headache vanished instantly, and his smile deepened as he met Medora’s gaze.

"This is what it means to have your abilities work as one," Blind said as Daylan approached them.

"Everyone’s abilities complement each other in one way or another. Medora’s flames are hot—extremely hot for a light mastery level. That’s why she has healing, to fix anything she breaks."

Blind tapped Medora on the shoulder and gestured for her to stop, and she obeyed.

"Set the flames again, but"—he pointed to a specific tree—"burn only his tree and heal the rest."

The moment flames shot from Medora’s sword, Daylan’s eyes widened, filled with pride and excitement.

"Now her luck complements her worth as a person," he smirked. "This is what it means to use your abilities correctly."

Daylan was living in the moment, proud of Medora’s accomplishments—but he hadn’t forgotten why he’d come down here. He congratulated her, but soon after, his expression darkened.

He turned to Blind. "Something happened during my duel with Asaemon, didn’t it?"

Blind gestured, and they went inside. Daylan followed but kept talking.

"One moment, Asaemon was angrily walking toward me, and the next, you and Pry were around."

Before long, they arrived at the living room and all took their seats.

"I shot at Asaemon, but the bullets never reached him. Still, I saw blood trickle down the floor, and the next thing I knew, he went berserk... Did I kill the kid’s octopus?" Daylan mumbled, concern clear in his voice.

Blind began massaging his forehead.

"Asaemon’s not a kid, Day," Medora said with a smirk. "I was surprised when I found out. Well, technically he’s twelve years old, but he spent forty-five years in the womb. So, he’s even stronger than Master Blind."

Daylan’s jaw dropped in shock, his eyes darting between their faces. "He’s a member of the Vital Five?"

Blind shook his head. "I made a mistake. I should’ve thought things through before asking you to fight Asaemon."

He sighed. "He’s not a member of the Vital Five, and I don’t think he will be anytime soon—if he’s even allowed to."

Their expressions shifted. "Why?"

"He hasn’t fully mastered his system—Spirit. That alone makes him a serious threat, especially considering he spent forty-five years in the womb."

"There’s another journey after defeating the system, huh?"

Blind smirked and leaned back. "Every baby is believed to be a blessing from the gods. From the moment you’re formed in your mother’s womb, the gods begin to test you—not through pain since babies can’t differentiate it—but through will, endurance, victory, survival, and determination.

And it’s through these that the theme of each trial is determined. There are many, but these are the basic ones."

He continued, "Each trial takes nine months for the gods to deem it successful. In cases where mothers have miscarriages, it’s a sign that the baby died during their trials with the gods."

Daylan and Medora exchanged glances.

"When the nine months come to an end, the gods can determine whether the child is capable of enduring more trials.

If they are, that’s when they become prodigies. They remain in the womb longer, and after five years, their abilities are granted to them—so they can pass through all their trials unscathed."

He continued, "Since babies have no fear or desires, once their abilities are granted in the womb, their chances of dying during a trial are very slim."

He cleared his throat. "However, Asaemon is... different. After taking each trial directly from the gods for forty-five years, his control over his abilities should have been phenomenal—but it isn’t. He loses control the moment any of his minions are hurt."

"Let me guess—the church wanted Asaemon dead, but you believed you could help him gain control. That’s why you’re allowed to stay here, isn’t it?"

Blind smirked. "Exactly."

Medora stayed quiet for a moment, absentmindedly playing with her fingers—clearly bothered by something.

"If we already went through a trial in our parents’ womb... why do we have to do it again?"

"The trials in your parents’ womb aren’t official trials—no one really knows how they’re issued or what form they take."

He paused for a moment. "But we know the trials exist based on a few reports—especially from prodigies born two to five years old. These are the ones who had no abilities in the womb but finished all their trials before age ten.

They all have one thing in common: they’ve done these trials before. So, no one knows why, and we can’t explain it."

Daylan’s stomach rumbled, reminding him to eat while Medora and Blind continued their conversation.

As he thought everything over, Daylan realized why Bruce let him share exactly what happened in his trial—though he still didn’t believe it was purely for research. Still, he found some solace in the fact that they were at least trying to understand the world.

Daylan returned to find them deep in a different conversation. He took his seat and let his presence settle before speaking up.

"What happens now that Asaemon has gone berserk? Did I pass my first training?"

Blind gave him a firm nod. "Yes. Pushing him to that level is a great achievement."

Daylan immediately fired the question Blind had been avoiding for a while. "Now that I’ve passed, are you going to tell me about his abilities?"

Blind narrowed his eyes. "You should’ve figured it out by now. His luck ability is invincibility. His Worth artifact is a sword—which he didn’t show you, so I won’t talk about it. And his Fate ability is the ocean; he can control and manipulate everything within it as he sees fit."

Daylan’s expression darkened. "What about the octopus?"

He rose to his feet. "That’s one of the sea creatures he’s allowed to use for now—and you killed it."

Daylan gave him an awkward grin.

"Your next training starts tomorrow, and you’ll be fighting Medora since she leaves in two days," Blind said without sparing them a glance, then walked away.

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