Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats-Chapter 114 : The Capital Lumina (fixed)

The ornate carriage swayed rhythmically as it traversed the cobblestone roads, its polished wooden frame creaking softly with each gentle bump. Inside, the members of Ambrose's party sat.

Liu Meihua sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture deceptively relaxed. Yet her eyes betrayed her, darting repeatedly toward the corner where Ambrose and Adelaide were engaged in hushed conversation. The duo's heads were tilted toward each other, their voices low and measured, exchanging information that remained beyond the reach of the others. Adelaide's quill scratched methodically against parchment as Ambrose's finger occasionally pointed to specific details in her ledger.

Earlier, Meihua had felt the unmistakable prickle against her consciousness—the sensation of an appraisal skill being used on her. She could instantly tell that the appraisal skill was being used by Ambrose. His Observation talent must've evolved at least once, she realized with a start. The standard Observation talent lacked such intrusive capabilities; this was something far more advanced.

A frown creased her delicate features. How has he managed to upgrade his talent so quickly? More unsettling still was Ambrose's complete lack of reaction to what he must have seen—her startling advancement to B-rank. His face had remained impassive, those calculating eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

Dark possibilities swirled through her mind. Was this journey merely a pretense? Perhaps he intended to isolate her for experimentation, to uncover the secret behind her rapid growth. Images flashed unbidden through her mind—a dimly lit basement, restraints, his cold analytical gaze as he…

Across the carriage, Ambrose's conversation with Adelaide continued uninterrupted, but his enhanced perception had registered every furtive glance, every minute shift in Meihua's expression. He had initially dismissed her attention as mere curiosity, but the increasingly strange expression and the blushing gave him pause. He wondered if she had been caught in his skill.

~Hey, is something wrong? He saw no need to alert the others so he used thought transmission instead.

The sudden intrusion jolted Meihua from her spiral. She stiffened momentarily before forcibly relaxing her shoulders and clearing her mind of those scenarios. She managed a slight nod, her expression smoothing into careful neutrality.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Ambrose studied her for a moment longer before returning to his discussion with Adelaide. He thought that her reaction was strange, but he was pleased that she hadn't been affected by his skill.

A faint blush crept across Meihua's cheeks as she stared fixedly at the carriage floor. That was close, she admonished herself. Had Ambrose developed mind-reading capabilities? She'd never encountered anything in the observation skill tree that granted such abilities. Had his talent somehow mutated along an unexpected path? Little did she realize that her own expressions had betrayed her thoughts more thoroughly than any telepathic intrusion could have.

Seeking distraction, she shifted her attention to Marcus, who sat opposite her, his gaze distant as he stared out the small carriage window. The regressor appeared lost in contemplation, his hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword. A twinge of guilt flashed through Meihua's conscience as she considered the item she had claimed—an item that, in the original story's timeline, should have fallen into Marcus's possession.

It's fine, she reassured herself. Marcus is the protagonist, after all. He'll undoubtedly acquire dozens more cheat items throughout his journey. I'm sure he won't mind me taking one. Besides, he was already significantly stronger than he had been at this point in the original narrative. The divergence she had created would likely amount to little in the grand scheme of things.

As the carriage crested a gentle hill, a massive stone archway came into view, crowned by an ornate signboard with gilded letters proclaiming: "Welcome to Lumina Crown." The capital of the Avaloria Kingdom spread before them, a sprawling expanse of grand buildings and bustling streets, the royal palace gleaming at its center like a jewel.

Meihua's expression froze, her blood running suddenly cold as fragmented memories from the original story coalesced in her mind. If her recollection was correct, a significant event was destined to unfold in the capital around this time—something that would fundamentally alter the trajectory of the narrative.

And that was…

…

The imposing stone archway of Lumina Crown's entrance gate cast long shadows across the approaching carriages, a testament to the capital's grandeur and security. A formidable contingent of royal knights stood sentinel at their posts, their polished armor gleaming in the midday sun—a necessary show of force for the city that housed the king himself. Their vigilant eyes scrutinized each visitor, permitting none to pass without proper scrutiny.

As Ambrose's carriage approached the checkpoint, a young guard stepped forward with practiced authority, raising his hand to halt their progress. "Halt and state your business," he commanded, his voice carrying the unmistakable confidence of one backed by royal authority.

The driver had barely begun to explain when a resounding slap echoed through the air. The young guard found himself sprawled unceremoniously on the cobblestones, his cheek stinging from the impact. Bewildered, he looked up to see his captain, Sir Roland, standing over him with a thunderous expression.

"What in Aurora's name do you think you're doing?" Sir Roland hissed, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. He jabbed a finger toward the carriage's front panel. "Can you not see, you fool?"

The young knight's eyes widened as they settled upon the ornate golden hourglass embossed on the carriage door—the unmistakable crest of House Rothschild. Color drained from his face as the gravity of his error became painfully apparent. He had attempted to levy a toll on one of the kingdom's most powerful noble families—perhaps even the most powerful.

Sir Roland straightened his uniform and approached the carriage with measured steps, his expression shifting from anger to practiced deference. As the carriage window lowered, revealing Ambrose's youthful face, the captain's composure momentarily faltered. His pulse quickened, and his mind raced with sudden alarm.

Initially, he had assumed it was merely a transport carriage bearing the Rothschild crest—a common enough sight for supply deliveries or messenger services from the northern dukedom. Such carriages could travel with minimal escort; after all, who would dare rob a vehicle bearing the Rothschild emblem, even with only a driver for protection? The family's reputation alone served as a more effective deterrent than a squadron of armed guards.

But this—this changed everything. Not a servant or retainer, but the Rothschild heir himself sat before him, traveling with what appeared to be no protection. Sir Roland felt a cold sweat break across his brow. If anything were to happen to the young master within the capital's walls, the political ramifications would be catastrophic. It could potentially trigger a conflict between the crown and the northern dukedom that might tear the entire kingdom apart.

He executed a formal bow, bending deeply at the waist. "Young Master Rothschild, please accept my most profound apologies for this embarrassing display." His voice carried the polished tone of a veteran diplomat. "This knight is newly commissioned and woefully ignorant of proper protocol. I hope you will find it in your grace to overlook this transgression."

On the ground, the young knight trembled visibly. The Rothschild heir? I actually stopped the carriage carrying the Rothschild heir. Have the gods truly abandoned me?

To everyone's surprise, Ambrose's response was a gentle smile that softened his aristocratic features. "It's okay," he replied, his voice carrying none of the expected indignation. "It's not that big of a deal"

Sir Roland straightened, barely concealing his shock. Was the Rothschild Heir really that easy going? He wasn't at all what the rumours said.

"Young Master," the captain ventured cautiously, "may I inquire why you travel without your knights?" His brow furrowed with genuine concern. Turning sharply to his subordinates, he barked, "What are you waiting for? Dispatch a messenger to the palace immediately! The Rothschild heir requires a royal escort!"

One of the knights broke away, sprinting toward the inner city with urgency in his stride.

Ambrose leaned slightly out of the window, his expression shifting to mild exasperation. "There's really no need for such formality. I'm merely conducting a brief errand in the capital. I'll be departing before nightfall."

"Young Master," Sir Roland replied, his voice heavy with respectful insistence, "with all due respect, you are putting us in a tough position."

Ambrose released a resigned sigh. "Very well," he conceded, he understood what the knight meant, if something was to happen to him in the capital, the royal family would be implicated. "But I'll not have a parade of knights disrupting my business. A single escort will suffice."

Though visibly reluctant, Sir Roland nodded in agreement. "As you wish, Young Master. I shall personally report to the palace to arrange suitable accommodation." He gestured to his remaining knights. "Show the Young Master some hospitality in the meantime."