Solomon’s words continued to ring in Ohta’s mind as he concentrated deeply.
The Breathing Art of the Eternal Throne was made such that a person that did not have the King’s aura could discover it.
Ohta already had it, but this was the first time that he felt a bit of control.
According to the scroll, one would have to practice this effectively for at least ten days for them to feel anything.
But not Ohta. In a few minutes, he could feel it inside him.
By taking in the pressure of the outside world, he had excited something within to push back, and it did.
Solomon had said that what lay within would be an ember.
But what Ohta was feeling was completely different.
It was like a ball of fire. No more the size of a soccer ball.
But it was there.
And the more Ohta recognized its presence, the clearer it became.
And then, he felt his consciousness being pulled in.
Suddenly, he could not just feel the ball of fire, but could also see it.
It gave out waves that alternated in succession.
Ohta was speechless. Yet another incredible thing he has seen in this world.
Also, this felt different.
Ohta remembered reading those scripts about mana when he was trying to resurrect it in his body.
Mana flood like a river through the veins and arteries.
But King Aura was different.
It radiated.
And Ohta could feel every successive wave as it came.
"Beautiful," he muttered, enjoying the energy waves.
Before this technique, the king aura felt like it had no direction and bursted out of his body at will, or when he was emotional.
But still, something was not right. Ohta frowned.
Was this the same energy he had always felt?
He could see it.
He could feel it.
But something was still not right. Ohta might not have been able to control the King’s aura but he had still felt its presence for sicteeen years.
And that perculiar energy was too distinct for him to not...
He paused.
There was more. Something radiated a different wave of energy behind him.
Ohta turned about.
And there it was. Another ball of fire.
This one was much bigger, and as crimson as fresh blood.
In fact, it was easier to call it a blazing ball of blood than of fire.
In the center of this blood mass was what Ohta could only describe as an eye.
The pupil shifted, turning in Ohta’s direction.
He gasped, pulling his consciousness back to reality.
Ohta lay on the bed, breath heavy. It had been just a casual glance from the eye, but he felt a kind of consumption.
It was enveloping. And the intense desire for blood ravished his mind.
His will power had saved him at the critical moment. If not, he would have entered a spree of regret.
Ohta looked to his side. His reflection from the window looked back at him.
It was already the early hours of the morning.
His crimson eyes reverted to their normal blue shade.
Ohta pulled himself from the bed.
He noticed his clothes were wet. Drenched in sweat.
The weather was not hot.
The sweat must have been from using the Breathing Art of the Eternal Throne.
This was really an incredible technique. According to the scroll, he was currently at the first stage.
Breath one: The Ember.
He flexed his wrist a bit.
The feeling was indeeed euphoric.
To think that the Kingly Lesson system had such incredible things. And all he needed to access them was learn the lessons the system provided, and use King Points.
There were also the other rooms he had not explored. Ohta could only imagine the incredible things that lay there.
Thinking this far, he suddenly frowned. "I don’t have enough coins."
This realization was like cold water to his flames.
He suddenly remembered the system.
Firstly, there was that alert.
[Make A Friend By Sacrifice 1/2 completed]
He had gotten 10KP the moment he admitted Sofia as his friend.
But it was obvious that the lesson was not over.
"What other lesson I’m I supposed to learn? I already took her in." Ohta thought out loud.
Was there some other kind of sacrifice he was to take?
And then they was the second one. The mission alert he got.
[Mission unlocked: Save A Friend]
To think that the system also gave missions. Of course he could tell that he was going to gain something good.
An instinct.
Also, maybe saving her was just a part of the first lesson.
Regardless of which it was, he was going to it.
In all honesty, not because he cared. But because he wanted more KP.
In a world of people with power to surmount mountains, Ohta knew he needed more than the IgA clan could help him with.
Now, he had a path to power. Of course he was going to take it.
He stood from the bed.
A headache hit him.
Then the memories came.
It was young Sofia, sitting at the bed of an old dying man.
He was covered with multiple layers of blanket to keep warm and safe.
The defibrillators whizzed in the background with every breath this old man took.
There were others in the room, men and women standing at the back drop.
But all attention in the room was focused on little Sofia and the old dying man.
Tears fell from the eyes of little Sofia. She sniffed from time to time.
The old man placed a shaky bony hand on her head, speaking Spanish "Mi flor silvestre, no llores." (Meaning: My wild flower don’t cry.)
His voice was rough, filled with pain, but still tender. As tender as his touch.
As tender as she remembered it.
He waved a finger, and as if on command, a butler walked over to him, handing him a bronze box.
At the sight of the Box, everyone in the room gasped.
After all, this box had the greatest significance within the Escobar family.