The training grounds were nearly empty when Soren finished his drills.
Late afternoon light stretched long shadows across the packed dirt. Most of the other students had already left for the evening meal. Only a few scattered figures remained one pair sparring near the fence, a tired-looking spear user practicing thrusts, and a cluster of city guards speaking with an instructor near the gate.
Soren preferred it this way.
Quiet made patterns easier to see.
He wiped sweat from his hands and opened his status window.
```
Name: Soren Vex
Level: 3
Class: ERROR - Not Found
Attributes
Strength: 9
Agility: 11
Endurance: 9
Intelligence: 12
Perception: 11
Skills
Observe (Incomplete) - 37%
Step Shift (Prototype)
Edge Alignment
```
The blue light hovered in the air for a moment.
Thirty‑seven percent.
Observe had grown faster than any other skill he possessed. Every time he studied someone closely, the strange framework behind his vision seemed to sharpen.
Edges became clearer.
Details separated themselves from the noise.
He dismissed the window with a thought.
The world snapped back into normal focus.
Across the yard, a pair of older trainees finished their sparring match. One of them broad shoulders, battered shield raised his hand.
"Again," he said.
The other groaned but lifted his sword.
Soren watched for a few seconds.
Timing. Weight shifts. Foot placement.
Patterns.
He activated Observe.
A faint pressure formed behind his eyes.
The System responded.
```
Name: Taren Holt
Level: 4
Class: Shield Bearer
Condition: Fatigued
```
The information appeared like thin blue script layered over reality.
Simple.
Clean.
Soren let the skill fade.
Low‑level targets had become easy.
Too easy, almost.
He had spent the last few days quietly testing the limits of the ability on trainees, stable hands, merchants, even the occasional city guard passing through the academy gate.
The results had been consistent.
If the person was close to his own level, the System answered immediately.
Sometimes it showed only a name.
Sometimes a class.
Once, after several seconds of focus, he had seen a fragment of a skill description before it vanished.
But the System always responded.
Always.
Until today.
The sound of iron-shod boots echoed from the stone path leading toward the training grounds.
Soren looked up.
A group of adventurers entered through the gate.
Five of them.
Their armor was travel‑scarred and dusted with grey road grit. Real weapons hung at their sides well used, not ceremonial like many academy trainees carried.
They walked with the relaxed alertness of people accustomed to danger.
Veterans.
The instructors straightened slightly when they saw them.
Interesting.
Soren shifted position on the bench near the practice dummies and watched without drawing attention.
The group spread out near the water barrels.
One man removed a heavy pack and rolled his shoulders. Another leaned a long spear against the fence.
But Soren's eyes settled on the woman standing at the center of them.
She wasn't the tallest.
But the others oriented around her without thinking.
Leader.
Her armor was dark leather reinforced with metal plates worn smooth by use. A curved blade hung at her hip.
A pale scar crossed the bridge of her nose.
She laughed at something one of the others said.
The sound carried easily across the yard.
Confident.
Experienced.
Soren felt curiosity stir.
High‑level adventurers passed through Ironvale often, but he had never studied one up close.
And Observe had improved since the last time he tried.
He leaned forward slightly.
Just a quick look.
Nothing obvious.
His gaze settled on the woman.
Focus.
Observe activated.
For a moment the world dimmed like a thin veil sliding across reality.
The familiar sensation deepened behind his eyes.
The System began to respond.
Then the message shattered the moment.
```
ERROR
Permission Denied.
```
Soren blinked.
The text vanished instantly.
He sat still for several seconds.
Permission denied?
That had never appeared before.
Perhaps he had lost concentration.
He tried again.
Observe.
The pressure returned.
The world dimmed.
The woman lifted a waterskin to drink.
Blue text flickered
```
ERROR
Permission Denied.
Target exceeds permitted observation threshold.
```
The skill collapsed.
Soren slowly leaned back against the bench.
Observation threshold.
Interesting.
So there were limits.
He watched the adventurers again, but this time with more care.
If the System refused to show him information, then their levels were likely far beyond his own.
Or the skill itself was incomplete.
Both possibilities were useful.
One of the adventurers a tall man with a shaved head glanced across the training yard.
His gaze paused briefly on Soren.
Soren looked away immediately.
Too long.
He had stared too long.
The man said something quietly to the red‑haired woman.
She turned.
Her eyes scanned the yard.
They stopped on Soren.
For a brief moment their gazes met.
Soren felt the same strange pressure behind his eyes except this time it wasn't coming from him.
The woman tilted her head slightly.
Then she walked toward him.
Soren remained seated.
Running would draw more attention.
Better to stay calm.
She stopped a few steps away.
Up close she looked older than he had first guessed. Late twenties, perhaps. Hard lines around the eyes.
Someone used to difficult work.
"You were just trying to read me," she said.
Her voice was calm.
Not angry.
Observant.
Soren considered denying it.
Pointless.
"Yes," he said.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
"Bold." She crossed her arms. "Most beginners don't try that."
"It was a test."
"And?"
"It failed."
She studied him for a moment longer.
Then she laughed quietly.
"Permission error?"
Soren's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You've seen it before," he said.
"Of course." She tapped the side of her temple. "Observation skills are common. Not many work on people much stronger than you."
That confirmed his suspicion.
Level difference.
"How large is the gap?" Soren asked.
"Large enough." She shrugged. "Most basic Observe skills stop working once the difference gets too wide. The System protects information. I've seen adventurers at level eighteen get read by curious academy students. But past a certain threshold..." She let the sentence trail off.
Protects.
Interesting word.
Soren considered that quietly.
If the System restricted access, then information itself had value.
Which meant his ability however incomplete might eventually bypass those restrictions.
A useful thought.
The woman studied him again.
"You're academy," she said.
"Yes."
"Level?"
"Three."
One eyebrow lifted.
"And you're already testing observation limits on veteran adventurers?"
Soren shrugged slightly.
"I was curious."
She watched him another second.
Then nodded once.
"Good instinct. Curiosity keeps people alive longer than arrogance." She gestured toward the training field. "But be careful where you point that skill. Some people take offense."
"You didn't."
"I'm in a good mood." She smiled faintly. "We just cleared a dungeon floor."
One of the other adventurers called out.
"Captain!"
She glanced back.
"Coming."
Then she looked at Soren one last time.
"Improve that skill," she said. "Observation types become very dangerous if they live long enough."
With that she turned and walked back to her group.
They left the training yard a minute later.
The gate closed behind them.
Silence returned.
Soren remained seated for several seconds.
Then he activated Observe again this time on the empty space where the woman had stood.
Nothing happened.
He frowned slightly.
Then a small System notification appeared.
```
Observe Progress Increased
Current Completion: 38%
```
Soren exhaled slowly.
So even failure counted.
Good.
He stood and looked toward the gate where the adventurers had disappeared into the city streets.
Observation threshold.
Limits meant structure.
Structure meant rules.
And rules eventually could be broken.
Soren began walking back toward the dormitories.
Already planning the next test.
Somewhere in the city there would be someone strong enough to trigger the error again.
And the next time…
He intended to see a little further.