The reason settled into place a moment later.
Ash sat on the edge of the bed, still half-wrapped in the thin blanket, and let the realization sink in slowly. He had not only copied raw power, battle instincts, and techniques. He had also inherited a portion of that parallel self's monstrous comprehension talent.
It was like someone had quietly replaced the ordinary processor inside his head with something far more advanced. Concepts that used to feel foggy and difficult now arranged themselves with surprising clarity. He could almost see the underlying logic of martial principles—the mathematical balance of force, the spiritual flow of energy, the way one insight connected to another. The talent did not hand him mastery. It simply removed the thick wall that had always stood between him and understanding.
So this is what real talent feels like from the inside, he thought. No wonder geniuses look so relaxed while the rest of us struggle.
And there was more.
