Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 126: Psychopath

Through the air she walked, a specter of crimson determination. Hualing could sense her master through their oath-talent connection, her senses stretching across the cityscape like invisible tendrils seeking their target. Her eyes narrowed as she locked onto the distant location where she felt Ambrose's presence resonating within her.

Without hesitation, she leapt from her blood platform, soaring through open space before landing precisely on another crimson disc that materialized beneath her feet. Like a dancer traversing an impossible staircase, she bounded from one blood platform to the next, her movements fluid and purposeful against the city skyline.

As she progressed toward her destination, black-cloaked pursuers appeared in her path, their weapons raised as they charged after her master. Hualing didn't break stride. Her blood weapon flashed with deadly elegance, cleaving through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency. The fallen enemies' blood defied gravity, rising in crimson streams that were absorbed into her clothing, deepening the rich scarlet of her makeshift dress as she continued her relentless advance.

Within their shared mental space, Minghua's panic spiraled. She couldn't believe Ambrose had been snatched away right before their eyes. The blood oath that connected them to the young master granted her tremendous power, but it was truly double-edged. If anything happened to Ambrose—if the princess accidentally harmed his fragile form—everything would collapse. This was the fundamental weakness of oath-type talents; an entire lifetime's worth of careful planning could disintegrate in an instant if the princess applied just a little too much pressure and the young master's frail body gave out.

Minghua understood that the princess was likely under the influence of Ambrose's mysterious charm skill. She had long suspected the young master possessed unusual abilities beyond his acknowledged talents. Now she could only pray he would protect himself—for both their sakes.

Hualing landed with graceful menace atop the royal estate's perimeter wall. A guard shouted, "Hey, stop right there!" but his words fell on deaf ears. Hualing moved past him without acknowledgment, her weapon tracing a lethal arc. The guard's head separated from his shoulders, blood arcing upward to join the crimson fabric of her flowing dress.

More royal guards appeared to block her path, but they might as well have been paper figures for all the resistance they offered. Hualing sliced through them methodically, her expression unchanged as bodies crumpled in her wake. To her singular focus, these opponents weren't people with names or ranks or families—they were merely obstacles that stood between her and her master. Guard or knight, royal soldier or common thief—anyone preventing her from reaching Ambrose was categorically the same: an enemy to be eliminated.

With ruthless precision, she carved her path directly toward the princess's residence, leaving a trail of fallen knights in her bloody wake.

…

Trapped within the princess's private chambers, Ambrose found himself pressed against the massive reinforced door, his slender frame dwarfed by its imposing size. "Umm... can we talk about this?" he offered diplomatically, hands raised in a placating gesture that seemed absurdly inadequate against the feral creature advancing toward him.

The transformed princess showed no sign of comprehending his words. Her eyes remained fixed on him with predatory focus, pupils dilated into feline slits that reflected an unnerving hunger. She stalked closer, each step deliberate and purposeful, forcing him further against the unyielding surface of the door.

With no other option, Ambrose activated his Spatial Displacement skill, blinking across the room to reappear on the opposite side. A troubling thought crossed his mind as he materialized—didn't this ability have a cooldown period? He'd always suspected that this very skill, designed to protect him, might ironically lead to his demise. Now that he thought about it, it had never really protected him, always bringing him trouble.

He barely completed this thought before the princess was upon him again, moving with frightening speed that belied her muscular frame. Ambrose teleported once more, materializing several meters away. Despite the optimized energy consumption of his upgraded skill, each use still drained his mental strength. At this rate, he would exhaust his reserves long before finding an escape from this predatory pursuit.

Desperate for a solution, Ambrose activated Spatial Omniscience, extending his awareness throughout the entire chamber. The skill revealed every detail of the space in perfect clarity—but offered little hope. Training equipment dominated the room, barbells and weighted weapons arranged in utilitarian fashion. More disturbingly, his enhanced perception detected various weapons concealed beneath the bed frame.

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Is this woman a psychopath? he wondered incredulously. Who keeps an arsenal under their bed? The discovery did nothing to calm his mounting anxiety as he teleported yet again, narrowly avoiding the princess's grasp.

With each evasion, Ambrose noticed her movements growing increasingly aggressive. Frustration radiated from her bestial features as her prey continued to evade capture. Perhaps he could use this escalating impatience to his advantage? If she charged with sufficient force, he could teleport at the final moment, allowing her momentum to carry her through the wall—creating an escape route through sheer destructive force.

Having formulated this plan, Ambrose positioned himself strategically beside what his spatial awareness identified as the structurally weakest section of the exterior wall. He braced himself as the princess charged, her powerful legs propelling her across the chamber with devastating speed.

Yet something unexpected happened. As she closed the final distance, her movements suddenly decelerated. The princess's charge transformed into a controlled approach, her momentum deliberately checked as though she feared injuring him. Rather than the bone-crushing collision he had anticipated, she slowed to an almost gentle pace just before reaching him.

After several similar attempts yielded identical results, Ambrose realized the frustrating truth—his Vulnerable Charm skill was working too effectively. Even in her feral state, the princess couldn't bring herself to risk harming his fragile form. What good was a defensive ability that prevented harm but still allowed him to be assaulted? With his pitiful physical stats, he would still die either way.

Is the system playing games with me? he thought bitterly, teleporting once more as she lunged.

Yet this apparent limitation sparked a new strategy. If he couldn't manipulate her into breaking the wall, perhaps he could use his own abilities more creatively. Though she always reduced her momentum before impact, what if he teleported her before she had the chance?

Ambrose positioned himself deliberately, waiting as the princess charged once more. His analytical mind calculated trajectories and timing with perfect precision, allowing her to build maximum velocity. Just as she reached peak speed, eyes locked on her target with predatory intent, Ambrose activated his skill.

[Spatial Displacement]

…

In a split second of calculated precision, Ambrose activated his Spatial Displacement skill. The princess vanished from her charging trajectory, instantaneously reappearing directly in front of the wall. She collided with the barrier at full velocity, the impact reverberating through the chamber with a thunderous crash that seemed to shake the very foundation of the building.

Through his Spatial Omniscience, Ambrose witnessed the aftermath of his strategy. A spiderweb of cracks radiated outward from the point of impact, fracturing the seemingly impenetrable wall—yet remarkably, the barrier remained intact. Ambrose stared in disbelief at the result of his gambit.

What the hell is this thing made of? he thought incredulously. That was the full power of an S-rank fighter! The princess's supernatural strength should have shattered any normal wall, regardless of its reinforcement. The royal family's paranoia regarding security had apparently extended to making the princess's chambers virtually indestructible.

Before he could formulate an alternative escape plan, a system notification materialized before his eyes:

[You have reached [Mind Limit] using mind related abilities in this state is not recommended]

The warning flashed ominously just as his vision began to blur. His knees buckled beneath him, strength evaporating from his limbs as he collapsed unceremoniously to the floor. He found himself staring helplessly at the ornate ceiling, his body refusing to respond to his commands.

"What is happening?" he whispered, confusion clouding his thoughts. "I still had about half my mental strength left..."

The realization struck him with brutal clarity. He had made a critical miscalculation, using his earlier teleportation costs as a baseline for estimating the mental energy required to displace the princess. But the current Athena was fundamentally different—her Battle Frenzy talent had dramatically increased her physical mass and power, and she had been moving at maximum velocity. Both factors exponentially increased the mental energy cost of the spatial displacement.

"Dammit, I've miscalculated," he muttered, disappointment in his analytical failure cutting deeper than any physical vulnerability. "How could I have made such a simple mistake?"

As self-recrimination coursed through him, he sensed Athena's approach. The princess seemed to recognize that her prey had exhausted himself, no longer capable of those frustrating disappearing acts. She stalked toward him with deliberate slowness, savoring the moment of inevitable capture, her bestial features contorted in triumph.

She loomed above him, her transformed eyes gleaming with predatory satisfaction as she gazed down at her conquered prey. This time, she didn't bother with the pretense of carrying him to the bed. Ambrose attempted to raise his hand in one final gesture of resistance, but she caught his wrist in mid-motion, seizing his other hand as well. With effortless strength, she pinned both his arms above his head with a single hand, effectively immobilizing him against the cold floor.

[GAME OVER]