Time Acceleration and the Wardrobe Blunder
'Level up means something new should’ve unlocked.'
I scrolled down the status window with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
It had cost me 15 percent of my life force, so the new skill better be worth it.
Time Acceleration (Active): Burn life force as fuel to accelerate the caster's time flow. Life force consumption increases with acceleration multiplier. Extreme physical strain occurs during acceleration.
"Time Acceleration," I muttered.
Just from the name and description, it seemed like a solid ability.
It sped up my time alone.
In other words, to everyone else, I'd look like I was teleporting or moving too fast to see.
"This should let me dodge most attacks."
But I couldn't just celebrate.
The penalties listed were all ominous as hell.
Increased life force consumption. Extreme physical strain.
Drag it out even a little, and my life force could hit zero in seconds.
And then the bodily strain on top.
I already had a body with crap stamina—could it even handle the recoil?
"True high-risk, high-reward..."
Screw up, and my body might explode before I even dodge anything.
Still, another option was a net positive.
Until now, I only had the Bullet attack skill—no evasion or defense to speak of.
That's why I had to trade flesh for blows against those wolves in the underground sewers.
If I thought of it as paying 15 percent life force for a survival tool, it wasn't a bad deal.
'Should I test it out?'
Curiosity twitched my fingers.
Just a quick burst—one second, tops. Better to know the sensation beforehand so I wouldn't panic in a real fight.
But I dropped the idea immediately.
My body looked fine on the outside, but after losing that much life force, the inside was probably a wreck.
Test it recklessly now, and I might puke blood and pass out again.
"Patience. Experiment later."
I dismissed the floating status window.
The room fell silent once more as it vanished.
I glanced out the window.
The sunlight pouring into the pristine white room had shifted, slanting much lower.
The sun had dipped far toward the west, painting the sky yellow and red.
'Time to head back.'
Lilliana told me to rest, but I couldn't hog the hospital bed forever. My shoulder wound had healed perfectly—no more excuse to play patient.
I hated being left alone in this empty place.
The familiar dorm bed felt more comforting anyway.
I threw off the blanket and swung my legs over the bed, planting my feet on the floor.
-Zzzt.
A slight dizzy spell hit as my soles touched down.
My vision wobbled briefly, but I braced my legs and it passed—enough to walk, at least.
A quick scan revealed a neatly folded stack of clothes on the bedside table.
The academy's black uniform.
Not the mud-caked one I'd worn, but a spotless spare, fresh as new.
Esilla must've brought it.
Her stiff excuse about it being "an extension of duty" echoed in my mind.
I smirked wryly and started unbuttoning the patient gown.
-Click, click.
Buttons undone one by one, the soft silk gown slipped down my shoulders.
It was a one-piece design, so it shed quickly, leaving me in thin undergarments.
A shiver ran through me as the cool evening air kissed my bare skin.
I kicked the fallen gown aside and approached the table.
I picked up the new uniform—and froze.
The problem came next.
"Haa..."
I let out a deep sigh, uniform in hand.
Shirt, vest, jacket, red ribbon tie.
Cute design, but too many layers, too fiddly.
'Call Aria?'
The thought crossed my mind, but I shook my head.
She'd bawled her eyes out earlier before leaving. Probably hadn't slept waiting for me—likely crashed out in the dorm by now.
Waking her just to help me dress? Even I had standards.
"Gotta figure it out."
I stood before the mirror in my underwear.
My reflection still felt alien: voluptuous curves, slim waist, porcelain skin.
Unsettling every time, but no time for that now.
I wrestled into the shirt first, fumbling the buttons into a sloppy fit. Draped the ribbon tie around my neck and twisted it every which way—ended up with a wrinkled mess.
In or out? No clue.
Unaware my cleavage peeked boldly through the gaping shirtfront, I kept fumbling.
-Bang!
The door flew open without a knock.
Did this world not know what knocking was?
"Bellize. Are you awa—"
A low, arrogant voice thick with irritation.
Adrian's footsteps halted dead at the threshold as she entered.
Me in the mirror.
Bottoms? Barely. Thin panties left my legs fully exposed.
Top half: shirt half-buttoned, collar splayed, shoulders precariously bare.
Between: barely concealed curves and pale flesh.
My exposed state hit her full in the eyes.
Her blue gaze shook wildly.
It flicked from collar to thighs, then snapped back to my face.
One second, two.
Short silence, then her pale face flushed crimson to the nape.
"Y-You, you, you...!"
She jabbed a finger at me, stammering.
"Why barge into someone else's hospital room without knocking?"
"What, what, what the hell are you doing?!"
She whipped her head away.
Not enough—she clapped both hands over her eyes and yelled.
"At least lock the door when changing! Shameless...!"
Ears beet red, she shrieked like a banshee.
"What indecency! Fix it now!"
"Indecency? I was just changing."
If I didn't know she was a girl in disguise, I might've flustered too—but to me, she was just another woman.
Girls seeing each other change? No big deal.
It's not like it wears out from looking.
"Your fault for throwing the door open without knocking."
"Th-That was just to check if you'd woken! And as Crown Prince, why would I knock on a criminal's—"
Adrian bit her tongue mid-rant.
A muffled ngh escaped. She peeked through her fingers, yelling desperately.
"Just hurry up and dress! Nowhere safe to look!"
"I want to. But this won't cooperate."
I lifted the crumpled ribbon with a sigh.
"More complicated than it looks. Aria always does it, so I never realized."
"What? You can't tie a simple ribbon?"
"Simple? Try it yourself. It's trickier than you think."
She huffed in disbelief at my shameless reply.
Eyes squeezed shut, she sighed at the air.
"Haa... You really are something. Caused that mess in the sewers, but can't even dress properly."
"Can't be helped. If it doesn't work, it doesn't."
I tried finishing the buttons, but my fingers slipped, misaligning them.
Still sloppy no matter what.
Adrian watched, finally snapping and striding over.
"Move. It's painful watching."
"Huh? You'll do it?"
"Stay still."
She swatted my hands away irritably and seized my collar.
Up close, her familiar citrus scent wafted over.
The smell from when she'd dozed against my shoulder.
"No wonder the shirt's crying with buttons like that."
She undid my botched ones without hesitation.
"Don't fidget."
Snapping all the while, her fingers were deft.
Used to noble attire since childhood, she handled the complex girls' uniform with ease.
Ah, right—she was originally meant to wear this too.
"Anyway."
Buttons done, she murmured lowly.
"What exactly happened in those underground sewers?"