Chapter 23: Lucy's Divine Mask (2)

The mask was finally completed, its divine energy pulsing subtly in Lucas's hands. He marveled at the intricate design, feeling the power thrumming beneath the surface. This was no ordinary artifact—this was something extraordinary, and it held the key to unlocking his sister's latent potential.

"So, do I just give it to her?" Lucas asked, still mesmerized by the mask's craftsmanship. He looked toward the system, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

The system's response was immediate, but its tone was dripping with disdain. [Give it to her?] The words practically oozed arrogance, as if the very idea was beneath consideration. [You can't be that naive, Lucas. This isn't a simple trinket you hand over. You need to place it on her directly, or she'll be rejected by the mask entirely.]

Lucas's enthusiasm dimmed slightly as he absorbed the system's sharp rebuke. "I see," he replied, nodding slowly. His expression shifted from eager to contemplative, realizing the weight of what he was holding.

There was a brief silence before the system interjected again, this time with a smug, almost condescending tone. [One more thing,] it said, as if withholding some crucial detail out of sheer superiority. [I suggest you put it on her while she's asleep.]

Lucas furrowed his brow, puzzled by the system's suggestion. He glanced at the mask, then back at the empty space where the system's voice emanated from. "Why is that?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He couldn't help but wonder why such a powerful item needed to be given in secret.

The system's reply was filled with an air of condescending patience, as if explaining something obvious to a child. [It's a precaution, Lucas,] it began, its tone slow and deliberate. [You can't risk her knowing about this. Your cheat, this power—it must remain hidden.]

Lucas's expression hardened, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "What do you mean? Why can't she know? She's my sister; I trust her."

[Trust isn't the issue,] the system countered, a hint of exasperation creeping into its voice. [The problem is that knowledge is a liability. There are spells, techniques—things that could pry into her mind, extract information, and put both of you in danger. Or worse, she might slip up, reveal it by accident. And then what?]

The system's tone shifted, taking on a gentler, almost coaxing quality. It was as if it were trying to guide Lucas into understanding the gravity of the situation. [The best course of action is to place the mask on her without her knowing. That way, you protect her and yourself,] it advised.

Lucas frowned, the weight of the decision pressing on him. He didn't like the idea of deceiving his sister, but the system's logic was hard to argue against. "So, she needs to receive the mask without being aware of it," he concluded, his voice tinged with resignation.

[Finally, you're catching on,] the system remarked, its tone dripping with superiority. The smugness in its voice only added to Lucas's frustration.

He exhaled sharply, pushing down the irritation that flared up inside him. "Let's see what she's doing first," Lucas muttered, more to himself than to the system. He headed toward the kitchen, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor.

As he entered the kitchen, he was met with a surprising sight. Lucy was asleep at the table, her head resting on her folded arms. She looked peaceful, completely unaware of the turbulent thoughts swirling in her brother's mind.

Lucas paused at the doorway, a mix of emotions playing across his face. He felt a pang of guilt at what he was about to do, but he knew it was necessary. Quietly, he approached her, taking a deep, steadying breath. The mask in his hand felt heavier now, as if it carried the weight of all the secrets he was about to keep.

Carefully, he leaned over and placed the mask on her face, ensuring it fit snugly against her skin. For a moment, he hesitated, his hand lingering near her cheek as he watched for any reaction. "Has she already received the power from the mask?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The system's response was infuriatingly calm, almost patronizing. [Patience, host. Not yet,] it replied. [You'll need to wait. The mask must take its time to fuse with her. This is a permanent bond we're talking about, not some temporary trinket.]

"I see," Lucas murmured, feeling exhaustion beginning to creep in. The intense effort of cultivating the mask had drained him, and now, with the task seemingly complete, he felt the fatigue settle heavily on his shoulders. "I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. I'll sleep first."

[Yes, go rest,] the system agreed, its tone dismissive, as if brushing off Lucas's fatigue as a minor inconvenience. [You've done well, but there's still much to be done. Get used to it.]

Lucas gave a small nod, though he doubted the system could see it. He cast one last glance at his sister, ensuring the mask was secure, before turning away. The guilt gnawed at him, but he forced himself to push it aside. He knew he needed rest if he was going to face the challenges ahead.

As he made his way back to his room, the weight of what he had done—and what lay ahead—pressed down on him. He barely made it to his bed before collapsing onto it, the day's events catching up to him all at once. Within moments, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, his mind finally given a brief respite from the burdens he carried.

Meanwhile, as Lucas drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep, danger was already creeping closer, unnoticed. The night was still and quiet, the only sounds outside the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. But this tranquility was deceiving.

Shadows moved with calculated precision as Voss's henchmen approached the small house, their footsteps almost soundless on the dirt path. The moonlight barely touched them, their dark clothing blending seamlessly into the night. Sёarch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The leader of the group, a tall, wiry man with a scar running down the side of his face, motioned for the others to halt as they reached the edge of the property. He scanned the house, his eyes narrowing as he took in the surroundings.

"So, this is the target's house," he whispered, his voice low and filled with anticipation. He glanced back at his companions, who nodded in silent confirmation. The leader's lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. "Let's move in quietly. No mistakes."