The Storyteller was very curious about Ligardel's condition—or, more precisely, the psychic power within him.
So, the Storyteller's questions were all related to that.
As for the power he had only just awakened, Ligardel himself did not understand it very well.
To him, it was now an instinct—albeit an unfamiliar one.
Still, it was ultimately his own power. Calling upon it was not particularly difficult.
Ligardel's use of psychic power was also quite simple, divided into two methods.
The first was to apply it to himself, while the second was to apply it externally.
Applying it to himself was relatively simple.
The most basic methods—strengthening his body, enhancing attacks, changing form, or twisting an enemy's attacks—could all be classified under this.
However, two conditions had to be met.
First, Ligardel had to be able to conceive of it, and his will had to be firm enough. The slightest distracting thought would greatly weaken the effect or even cause it to fail.
Second, he naturally needed sufficient psychic power.
However, Ligardel possessed an instinctive sensitivity in this regard.
For instance, if he wanted to temporarily raise his ignition point to Eternal Flame, the highest level, and the psychic power required far exceeded what he possessed, he would immediately know that the idea was unrealistic and impossible.
Then there was applying psychic power to the external environment.
The effect of this method was like when Ligardel had first awakened in Cavecliff Monastery: he could temporarily twist and fuse the earth and sky together, even altering their original texture—
—or heal Theo's fatal wounds in an utterly absurd fashion within a short time, powered entirely by I reckon it works.
But the downside of using psychic power this way was obvious: the consumption was immense.
That was why Ligardel had collapsed the moment