Challenges

Adam's mood was not great when he woke up the next day. The turmoil of his blood made it hard for him to calm down and think clearly. It was like having a hyperactive puppy tearing through his body. This was a sign of his blood reaching maturity, much like the restlessness of puberty. Once he got through this period, he would have full control over his blood.

"I need to be cautious," Adam thought, "My thoughts are not clear, and I might leave behind clues. I should come up with some excuses to give myself more personal time and space for the next few days."

Feeling a bit irritable, Adam quickly left home and headed to the church. He wasn't sure if his condition could be hidden from Alva, whose sharp perception would likely see through it.

"I need some excuses to explain my lack of concentration," Adam pondered. He didn't plan to say it outright but wanted others to notice it and draw their own conclusions. Self-explanations are often taken as lies, but if others discover it themselves, it becomes more believable.

"If I get injured or fall ill, I could rest at home for a few days and smoothly get through this period of blood awakening," Adam considered. Adel's injury had given him an idea, but he decided against it. Unlike Adel, Adam had built good relationships with many friars. If he got injured, one of them might heal him with a spell, which would be very painful even if it didn't cause harm.

"Having too many good relationships can be a problem," Adam sighed. The best solution was ruled out because of this. He couldn't think of a better way to handle the situation.

"I need to hide my condition and give myself more free time and space," Adam thought. "I'll take it one step at a time."

As he walked, Adam deliberately let a passing carriage splash mud on him. He had seen such a scene before while selling pickled vegetable pancakes—a carriage sped by and splashed mud on someone, who was then insulted as a dirty commoner.

"Something bad happening can make someone feel worse and more distracted, which makes sense," Adam thought, looking at the mud on himself and immersing in the emotion. He was Adam, the commoner, trying to become an apprentice painter but still considered a dirty commoner. This made him feel more insecure and uncertain about his future.

With these thoughts in mind, Adam arrived at the church covered in mud, forcing a smile while greeting others. His weary and agitated state made everyone who knew him realize something was wrong.

Seeing Adam force himself to work but mixing the materials wrong due to his poor condition, Master Alva coldly told him to redo the materials.

Some who noticed this began to feel sorry for Adam. His intelligence and diligence were well-known, and Alva could clearly sense the disapproving looks from the friars.

But Alva's gaze at Adam grew more complex. "This kid's charisma is terrifying. If he had a better background, he could achieve great things quickly," Alva thought. He had met many people and knew that some had natural traits that made them convincing, admirable, or lovable—traits of a genius.

Such people, once they entered their chosen field, could achieve things others couldn't even dream of. Adam was one of those people, but Alva saw another trait in him: ambition.

From the start, Alva knew Adam's goal wasn't just to become a painter. He had greater aspirations. Alva didn't like such people. If it weren't for Flare and an old friend's request to guide Adam, he wouldn't have taught him so soon.

Adam frowned as he mixed the materials again. The turmoil of his blood was too much, causing him to make mistakes. He noticed Alva's odd expression and the sympathetic looks from some friars towards him and disapproving looks towards Alva.

"Is my charisma stronger, or is showing weakness getting more sympathy? Or is my awakening ability some kind of charm?" Adam wondered. His expression stiffened, and he poured too much pigment, making the material too dark.

"You should go home," Alva pushed Adam aside, took the remaining materials, and said without looking at him, "Your mind is completely unsettled. Continuing will just mess things up here. Come back when you're calm. If you make another basic mistake, you won't be coming back."

This was the most Alva had ever spoken to Adam.

"Teacher, I…" Adam tried to explain, but Alva ignored him. Adam felt genuinely dejected—this wasn't an act but his true emotion.

Both incidents were his mistakes, not part of his plan. Although they unexpectedly worked in his favor, Adam felt a sense of failure. If things could go better than planned, they could also go worse.

Losing precise control over his actions meant leaving his fate to chance, something Adam hated. If he couldn't control his actions, he couldn't control his future.

As he walked out of the church, many friars looked at him with concern but didn't offer comfort. They agreed with Alva that he needed time to calm down.

"I must solve the blood issue," Adam decided. "At least I need to understand its nature."

He needed more knowledge about his blood. If it could be agitated now, could it happen again later?

"This time it led to two mistakes but good results. What if it happens at a critical moment and makes things worse?"

Adam wouldn't reject his blood's power—it would be another form of escape. He wouldn't ignore its problems, thinking they would disappear once it matured.

At home, Adam explained the situation to his uncle and aunt, received their comfort, and was cheered up by little Lena's encouragement. Then he went to the attic to confront his blood's turmoil.

He had a meeting with the supernatural beings tonight and couldn't afford mistakes. He wondered how many Adel could gather.

As he thought about these problems, Adel limped around, visiting his "friends" to complete Riggs' task. Finally, he knocked on a door.

The door opened to reveal a burly man with shoulder-length brown wavy hair.