Chapter 493 An Idea

"Let’s just not think about this and something else instead. Like what just happened," Lia muttered, rubbing his temples. "It’s like... I can remember things I’ve never done."

Ace flexed his fingers slowly, watching the movement. "Yeah. Same here."

He glanced down at his hand, then clenched it.

"There’s something inside me now. I can feel it pulling through me if I concentrate."

Lia tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Do you think it was really him? Who gave us these memories?"

Ace’s fingers stopped moving.

"I don’t know," he said honestly. "But I saw him... standing there. Not moving. And yet... it felt like something was

entering

my head from him. Like his shadow wrapped around my spine and poured it in."

He shivered slightly but not from fear.

"Whatever it was... I

felt

him. Even when my eyes were closed."

Lia nodded slowly.

Ace turned to him. "Do you regret it?"

Lia snorted. "Do I look like I regret it?"

They both grinned—tight, tired smiles.

A shared understanding passed between them.

"I wonder how far we’ll go," Lia whispered.

Ace looked ahead toward the corridor leading deeper into the manor, eyes calm.

"Farther than we ever thought possible."

They stood again.

And walked away.

Back in the manor’s study, just as Michael was about to ask Jester to begin imparting the knowledge of refinement arts, he suddenly paused.

"Jester."

—Yes, Master?

"What’s the name of the technique you use to impart knowledge?"

—Memory Infusion, Master.

Michael hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm... you can teach me, right?"

It was only now Michael truly considered it.

There were some clear differences between using his [Taming] skill and relying on Jester to teach skills.

For one, his [Taming] skill didn’t have a 100% success rate. It also came with a long cooldown when copying or teaching skills—at least until the skill advanced in mastery level.

Another problem was control. If there was a specific skill Michael wanted to teach someone, but Jester didn’t have it, then he couldn’t make use of Jester’s infusion. That lack of flexibility was a limitation.

But then, a new thought struck him.

Why did it have to be Jester?

More importantly, what if

his own undead

—his primary concern for wanting this teaching skill in the first place—could also do what Jester did? What if

they

learned memory infusion too?

What if his undead could teach him... or each other?

Wouldn’t that replace some of the core importance of [Taming] altogether?

Of course, things might not go as smoothly as he hoped—but it was a good start.

—Yes, Master. I can teach it to you. Memory Infusion isn’t a technique that requires a spirit root. That’s why I can use it in the first place.

That simple clarification changed his initial plan.

Michael set down the quill he’d been holding.

"I want it," he said, eyes narrowing. "Teach me."

This was exactly what he needed.

If he could master this skill, then all his high-intelligence undead could be trained in it as well.

Skill training would no longer be limited to natural talent, through learning, and through[Taming].

Jester was quiet for only a moment before responding.

—Are you ready?

Michael, who had just stood from his seat, nodded instinctively. "Yeah—"

Then he paused.

"Wait... will it hurt?"

That gave him a brief moment of hesitation. His thoughts raced.

If it does... I’d rather go somewhere isolated first. I can’t risk screaming in here. People will notice.

Though the manor was his, the walls still had ears. Too many servants.

Jester, as usual, had no idea what his master was thinking.

—If you had asked me before the experiment on the two boys, I wouldn’t be certain. But now? Given your mental strength, Master—far above theirs due to your power and cultivation—the worst you should feel is headache.

Michael relaxed slightly at that.

"...Good," he muttered. "Then begin."

—As you command.

Michael took a deep breath, then closed his eyes.

And then it began.

A ripple sensation overshadowed his mind.

Like a droplet falling into a still pond.

Suddenly, there was something in him. A thread of thought that wasn’t his.

The memory flowed into him.

Michael felt it—the structure, the logic, the process of Memory Infusion.

He could

see

how Jester carved a pathway into another’s consciousness. How it unraveled mental resistance and rebuilt understanding. How it anchored memories in place so they didn’t fade or distort.

It wasn’t something you

used

like a spell. It was something you

performed

like surgery.

Michael gritted his teeth.

A faint throb began to build behind his eyes—but it was manageable.

He focused, absorbing every detail.

And then—

Silence.

He opened his eyes.

"...Done?"

—Done, Master. You’ve inherited the technique.

Michael exhaled slowly.

He felt... clear. A bit tired, but more from mental exertion than anything else.

But the knowledge was there.

In fact, the system had already notified him.

The skill was currently at the peak of Basic Mastery, but he could feel it—if he digested the memory thoroughly enough, he should be able to elevate it to Intermediate Mastery.

Michael gave his skill panel a glance.

The new technique was already recorded under his skills.

[Memory Infusion] — Basic Mastery

A technique that allows the user to implant structured memory fragments into another sentient being. Effectiveness depends on mental compatibility, intelligence, and resistance level of the target. Risk of backlash or memory rejection is present at low mastery levels.

He nodded to himself.

"So far, so good."

There were no lingering headaches, no dizziness, and no foreign thoughts clawing at the back of his mind. Just the technique—settled in his head like a book he’d read and could quote from memory.

Still... he double-checked his limbs, vision, pulse, and breathing—just to be safe. A precaution, not paranoia.

All seemed normal.

Despite the growing itch to test his new skill right away, he curbed the impulse.

"Jester," Michael finally said, steadying his tone, "Follow the original plan. Begin infusion of the refinement art next."

—

Of course, Master.