AWB Chapter 218 That Person
Chapter 218 That Person
Chapter 218 That Person
That concludes today's training.
As time passed, Sylvie lost track of how fast it went; it felt like the training was over in the blink of an eye, leaving her alone to face her own thoughts.
She couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, but a deep sense of relief also welled up inside her.
With Morse by her side, her worries were temporarily put aside, and the feeling of comfort lingered in her mind, bringing a long-lost peace.
The memories that had been troubling her for the past few days quietly disappeared as she focused on her training. She understood that focusing on something helped, which was why she was working so hard.
Nevertheless, she felt fundamentally different; she no longer felt as comfortable and relaxed as before.
"You did very well."
Morse's calm words echoed in her mind. Sylvie turned to look at him. His serious face didn't change much. People who didn't know him might think he was just giving perfunctory praise, but Sylvie had been observing him for a while and knew that he was sincere.
Even without using one's own ability to perceive his emotions, one can instinctively know this.
"Thank you." Sylvie smiled and nodded, her body aching all over; Morse hadn't gone easy on her during training.
After the initial awkwardness, the two-hour training session was followed by a high-intensity challenge.
When Sylvie tried to stand up, her muscles protested fiercely, and the pain throughout her body made her stagger as she stood up. The fatigue from the high-intensity training made it impossible for her to maintain her balance.
"Ouch..." she muttered softly, staggered, and lost her balance. Her legs had forgotten their usual coordination. The training had left her body very tired. Despite feeling uncomfortable, a sense of accomplishment mixed with soreness quietly rose up.
"Be careful," Morse whispered, his hand firmly supporting her arm. His touch sent a shiver down Sylvie's spine, a strange warmth and sense of security washing over her.
Sylvie forced a shy smile, acknowledging both her physical exhaustion and the subtle feeling she had experienced while in contact with Morse. "I think I need more practice."
“You do need it, but not now,” Morse replied, slowly releasing her grip to give her room to regain her balance.
It's normal for the body to have difficulty adapting to such a feeling when muscles are so tense.
'At this rate, I might not be able to leave, but I can't just give up,' Sylvie thought.
She knew she needed more training, even though her body couldn't handle it, but she refused to be weak, so she decided to start more training, and the only thing she could do was take action.
She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling in her muscles and arms.
She plans to use her abilities to relieve muscle tension and fatigue, allowing them to return to their optimal state, just as she has done before.
“Stop.” Morse’s words were like a sharp blade, abruptly cutting off Sylvie’s movements. She was startled and opened her eyes wide to meet his sharp gaze. His hand gently rested on Sylvie’s forehead, and the sudden contact sent a chill down her spine.
"Huh?" She was caught off guard and felt a little embarrassed by the unexpected interruption. Morse's cold hand touched her warm skin, making her notice his touch even more.
His hands are so cold.
Sylvie couldn't help but wonder if Morse was in good health, since his skin was much paler than that of ordinary people, and he had been very cold last time, reminding her of her experience in the dungeon.
“You were about to use your ability again,” Morse explained calmly, withdrawing his hand and squinting at her with a look that was familiar to her, as if he knew what she was about to do.
“You mean…” Sylvie started to ask, but was interrupted.
"Effort is a good thing, but pushing your limits too much can have serious consequences."
"I don't......"
"Look at your eyes. You're not getting enough sleep, you can't concentrate, and your reaction time is much slower than before." Morse's words were precise, sharp, and hit the nail on the head.
Sylvie lowered her head, a mix of embarrassment and realization washing over her. Her sharp eyes saw through the weariness and determination she was trying to conceal.
“I just want to train,” she admitted softly, her voice low. “I don’t want to continue being a coward.” As she said these words, she couldn’t look the other person in the eye.
"..."
Morse didn't respond. She couldn't help but look up and found that Morse was looking at her with a slightly different expression.
"It must be painful, right?"
Morse understood how she felt.
"..."
"You can't sleep because you can't forget, right?" His voice carried a heavy understanding, as if he too had experienced those sleepless nights and the torment of memories.
Sylvie's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability. Morse's insight had transcended her physical state, touching the depths of her emotions. This revelation made her feel both exposed and understood.
“You know,” he continued, his voice heavy with a shared experience, “pushing your limits while carrying guilt is not the right way.”
His words hung in the air, carrying a wisdom born from personal experience, and Sylvie felt a connection, a subtle bridge between their experiences.
"that……"
“I once knew someone like you,” Morse continued, his voice heavy with recollection. “Someone who pushed himself too hard, pushing his limits. In the end, he almost lost control.”
Sylvie's eyes widened at the revelation, and the connection between Morse's words and her struggle resonated within her; he was sharing a story, a story that echoed with a dangerously excessive determination.
“That man,” he continued, “pursued power, just like you. But in the pursuit, he neglected himself. In the end, he almost lost everything.”
His words vividly depicted the consequences of pushing oneself too hard, a lesson Sylvie absorbed with gratitude and fear. The vulnerability in Morse's voice hinted at his involvement in the story, a shadow of his past.
“So you should be careful with yourself,” he said softly, looking up at the bright sun. “That person has no one to confide in.”
He paused, reflecting on the weight of loneliness and the dangers it brought. Sylvie listened intently, her thoughts intertwining with the somber tone of Morse's words.
“That person can’t talk to anyone else,” he continued. “He’s consumed by self-loathing, which is a path that won’t bring any benefit.”
His candid and sincere tone deeply touched Sylvie. She could feel the urgency in his words as he imparted an important lesson, wisdom drawn from personal experience.
“But you are different,” he said, turning back to look at Sylvie. “You have family and friends. You don’t need to go down that path. There are many people who will listen to you and support you. You are different from him.”
His words were like a gentle comfort, reminding Sylvie that the journey to power was not a solitary one, but Sylvie also sensed something different.
His voice trembled slightly. Sylvie could sense a different tone in Morse's emotional shift.
His usually indifferent expression... seemed to be missing something.
Upon closer observation, she realized that this was not a feeling of emptiness, but rather a feeling of longing and loneliness. Beneath Morse's words and mask, she could sense his longing for someone.
A sense of unease rose in Sylvie's heart as she witnessed this usually aloof person reveal a human side...
Who is it?
She felt a heaviness in her heart, a strange feeling... a feeling she wasn't very familiar with, but she instinctively knew it wasn't a good thing.
She was somewhat annoyed because, in front of her, this man was thinking about someone else.
"So, are you one of them too?" Sylvie asked, her tone firm and her gaze sharp, a stark contrast to her previous gentleness.
"what?"
"I just want to ask, if it were me, would you listen? If I told you about my troubles, would you listen and comfort me?"
Sylvie's question cut through the air, and a hint of hesitation flashed across Morse's usually calm face.
“I have my limitations,” he began, his voice cautious. “I’m not an empathetic person and can’t offer the comfort you need.”
Sylvie wasn't going to give up. She stared at him, trying to discern the unspoken emotions in his words: "Why? Why do you think you're not suitable? What makes you unsuitable for this role?"
"..." He didn't respond, but simply lowered his head. For some reason, Morse in front of Sylvie at this moment felt like a child who had lost something important.
Sylvie knew that Morse was struggling with his life. Although it felt like something from a long time ago, his transformation had actually only taken three months. She understood his pain and felt that he shouldn't continue like this.
“You…” Sylvie wanted to continue, but suddenly, Morse’s attitude changed, and his emotions underwent a dramatic shift, as if something had taken control of him.
“Enough.” Morse interrupted the conversation, his gaze returning to its cold indifference, his face bearing an expression of utter indifference.
Sylvie was annoyed by his sudden change, but she held back her words, sensing that something was changing deep within him.
Morse took some time to gather his thoughts before speaking to her again.
“Treat your body with your healing abilities, but that’s not the solution,” he said firmly. “You need to remember how your muscles feel, and even when you’re tired, you should get used to them.”
Sylvie was startled by the severity of his words and nodded in understanding. Morse's words, though sharp, carried a professional quality, making her realize that maintaining bodily awareness was crucial for her self-improvement.
"That's all for today, see you next time." He said, turning and leaving, a sudden silence filling the air.
But Sylvie instinctively knew that such an opportunity would not come again; she understood Morse's personality.
Her curiosity was piqued, and she didn't want to let the opportunity slip away.
“Wait,” Sylvie called out to him, and Morse stopped and looked back at her.
"What happened to the person you mentioned?" Sylvie asked, her eyes revealing her longing for the story behind it.
Morse's expression wavered slightly, and Sylvie noticed it.
This sense of vulnerability quickly vanished, replaced by a familiar indifference.
“That person,” he answered mysteriously, his voice devoid of emotion, “is still searching for his own path.” His words were like a closed door, and after speaking, he left, leaving Sylvie with unanswered questions lingering in the air.