A few days later.
"Finally…" said Aegon, emerging from the narrow mouth of the cave. His voice was hoarse, his cloak dusted with soot and dust, but there was a smile of unmistakable relief on his face.
He had done it.
The [Shadow Rune] had been deduced.
Aegon held out his hand, flexing his fingers. Shadows clung to his skin like ink-colored mist. He willed them forward, and they moved. The shadows of the surrounding rocks shifted subtly, curling around his arm, not quite solid, not quite smoke. This rune allowed him to manipulate shadows with precision and subtlety, redirecting them, cloaking objects, even dampening his own silhouette to blend more easily into darkness.
He had tested it extensively within the dark cavern, whose natural conditions offered the perfect environment.
"Now, time to go back," he murmured to himself, adjusting his belt as he began the climb toward the surface through Dragonmont's winding ridges.
Winter air had begun to seep into the cracks of the island. Even Dragonstone, bathed in thermal heat from the volcanic depths below, was not immune to the biting chill creeping across the land.
The mountain eventually gave way to sky. Aegon reached a familiar point, a tall cliff edge, at least two hundred meters high, overlooking a jagged field of black stone far below. There was no road from this height. Only the drop.
He walked to the edge and looked down.
He took a breath and reached into his mental space. A spell model responded at once.
[Spell: Featherfall]
A soft tingle spread through his limbs. His body lightened as though the very air around him had reached out to hold him in an invisible cradle.
Without hesitation, Aegon stepped off the cliff.
And dropped.
Slowly. Gently. The wind caught him, not in gusts but in purposeful flow. His cloak fluttered as he descended like a leaf in late autumn. It wasn't elegant though. His legs swung awkwardly once or twice but he touched the ground with both feet intact and not a single bone broken, which was all that mattered.
"Definitely one of my smartest decisions," he muttered.
The [Spell: Featherfall] had been one of four new spell models Aegon had created since the royal hunt, made from the runes: [Lightness Rune], [Air Rune], and [Will Rune].
The key rune, the [Lightness Rune], was deduced from the magic flowing within his own Valyrian steel sword.
Valyrian swords and weapons had always felt lighter than any normal steel counterparts. And on analyzing it with spirituality, he found why.
From his Valyrian steel sword, three distinct runes had been deduced:
[Lightness Rune]: which reduces weight and inertia.
[Durability Rune]: the source of the blade's resistance to wear and deformation.
[Sharpness Rune]: the reason why Valyrian blades could cut with supernatural precision.
It had been a revelation. Valyrian steel wasn't just a metal, it was a reservoir of bonded magic. It was utterly foolish of him not to have checked it sooner. Nevertheless, those three runes were his now.
Including the freshly uncovered [Shadow Rune], Aegon now possessed 12 runes in total. A respectable collection for any self-made Wizard Apprentice.
His thoughts shifted to his current spells, five models, each a work of art, present within his mental space:
[Spell: Primary Earth Manipulation] – his first spell, made from the runes: [Earth Rune], [Form Rune] and [Will Rune], allowing manipulation of terrain and earth.
[Spell: Featherfall] – for safe descents, made using [Air Rune], [Lightness Rune] and [Will Rune].
[Spell: Wind Blade] – One of his newer offensive spells. Built using [Air Rune], [Sharpness Rune] and [Form Rune]. It conjured a curved blade of wind, nearly invisible, which could be attached to a sword or even his bare palm. While it lacked the strength to cut through armor or bone, it was more than enough to slice through flesh, particularly dangerous in close quarters. He'd practiced with it extensively on hanging meat in the kitchens. The results were… satisfying.
[Spell: Mirror Clone] – Aegon's personal favorite, if only for the nostalgia it stirred. Inspired by a certain loud-mouthed, yellow-haired shinobi from a world long lost to his past life, this spell conjured a solid and realistic illusion of himself. Built from four runes: [Mirror Rune] , [Form Rune], [Will Rune] and [Durability Rune], it consumed twice the mental space of a three-rune spell model. The clone could mimic movement and posture, but lacked speech or independent action. Still, in the midst of a battle, even a moment's distraction could be priceless.
[Spell: Whirlpool Ward] – His only defensive model so far. Constructed with [Water Rune], [Form Rune], [Durability Rune] and [Will Rune]. It created a swirling barrier of water in a tight radius around him. It wasn't impenetrable, but was enough to deflect low-velocity projectiles like thrown knives or low-powered bolts.
Of course, he couldn't use that one in public. He was a 'Pyromancer,' after all.
At first glance, many of these spells seemed to rely on similar runes. Yet, when each was bound together into a completed model, the structure, the intricate weave of runes, was entirely unique.
With all these spells, he could still create new ones. Maximizing the [Wizard Apprentice] class had granted a considerable increase in his mental space. With his current reserves, he could still construct:
Three more 3-rune spells, or
One 4-rune spell and one 3-rune spell model.
He had already verified through trial that a 4-rune model consumed double the space of a 3-rune one, something he made sure to record carefully in his research notes.
And now… with the [Shadow Rune] in his arsenal, his next set of spells would delve into deception, concealment, and silence.
He already had ideas forming.
The path back to Dragonstone castle soon came into view, black towers rising above the cliffs, veiled in mist and framed against the dying amber of sunset. He stepped over the volcanic rocks as he moved toward it.
Dragonstone Castle
After a long, steamy bath and a change into fresh clothes, Aegon stepped out of his chambers. He ran a hand through his damp silver hair and stretched his shoulders.
Just outside his chamber, leaning casually against the stone wall of the corridor, was Gael.
She stood with her hands folded behind her back, rocking gently on her heels, clearly waiting for him. Her long silver-blonde hair was neatly brushed, and she wore a soft lavender gown trimmed with pale blue lace.
Aegon lifted an eyebrow, already smiling. "So… did Grandmother ask for me?"
Gael returned his smile with a knowing look. "Of course she did. I told her the usual story… that you were out visiting the village blacksmith."
He laughed softly. "The village blacksmith again?"
She shrugged, feigning innocence. "It worked last time."
Aegon chuckled, a warm and grateful sound. "You're a savior. Truly."
Gael beamed, looking far too pleased with herself. "I know."
She'd covered for him during the days he'd vanished into Dragonmont without telling anyone but her. She'd dined with the Queen in his place, answered vague questions with vague answers, and slipped away before suspicion could take hold.
He studied her face for a moment. "I owe you."
"Yes," she said sweetly, rocking on her heels again. "Yes, you do."
Aegon narrowed his eyes. "Alright then. What do you want in return?"
Gael tapped her chin in mock thought. "Hmm… nothing right now. But I'll let you know later."
He gave her a playful glance. "That sounds ominous."
"Only if you make it so," she replied with a smile.
He laughed and shook his head. "Alright. I'll be waiting."
There was a small pause. The flickering light from the sconces danced across the stone walls. For a brief moment, Aegon noticed the way Gael was looking at him, not quite directly, as though hesitant, but with a quiet warmth in her eyes that lingered just a beat too long. He looked away, pretending not to notice.
"I'm heading to the hall," he said casually. "I skipped lunch, and am starving. Want to come?"
Gael hesitated for half a second. Then she shook her head with a regretful little smile. "I can't. I have lessons with the septa."
"Ah, the ever-watchful Septa," Aegon teased.
Gael rolled her eyes. "She says I'll never be marriageable if I keep skipping lessons."
Aegon smirked.
Gael blushed slightly and gave him a mock glare. "Go eat. I'll see you later."
With a graceful turn, she walked off down the corridor, her gown swishing gently behind her.
Aegon watched her for a moment before heading in the opposite direction.
After a fulfilling meal, Aegon returned to his chambers. The warmth of the food still lingered in his belly, but his mind was already drifting elsewhere. He leaned back in his chair, fingers lightly drumming the wooden armrest, and turned his focus inward. Toward his Class Tree.
The new class he had unlocked not long ago, [Observer], was already fully leveled.
[ Class: Observer (Tier 2) ]
[ Prerequisites:
- INT ≥ 10.0 (satisfied)
- Has observed at least 20 individuals in emotionally varied situations (satisfied)
- Has accurately identified hidden emotion or intent during social interaction (satisfied) ]
[ Level 10 (MAX) ]
[ Trait : Microexpression Reading
(+55% accuracy when interpreting facial microexpressions, vocal stress patterns, and subtle body language)
(+45% detection of emotional state, deception, or concealed intent) ]
[ Trait : Behavioral Mapping
(+55% speed and accuracy when establishing a person's behavioral baseline)
(+45% detection of emotional or mental state deviation under stress or manipulation) ]
He could now read others with little more than a glance. A flicker of emotion. A tightening of the jaw. A single breath drawn too quickly. Within minutes of interacting with someone, he could build a profile of their behavior, their likely reactions, their tells, their fears.
It was as if the world had slowed down, and every social mask had turned translucent.
If he had lived on Earth, he could have become a psychiatrist. Or perhaps something darker.
But he hadn't just leveled the class blindly. This was his first new class since [Wizard Apprentice], and it was only natural for him to approach it with greater scrutiny.
Throughout the upgrade process, he had scanned his body and mind repeatedly using spirituality, trying to sense what was being altered, where the traits were being embedded, how they were constructed.
He found nothing. Absolutely nothing.
It was as though the traits had appeared from nowhere, granted to him by some unseen hand.
He had hoped to learn something deeper about the mechanism of the Class Tree, something to create a theory about trait formation but again, the mystery only deepened. After a dozen failed attempts to catch the source of the transformation in real time, he gave up.
Maybe some things did not want to be understood.
So he turned his focus to what came next.
A new class. One he had defined a few weeks ago. A missing piece in his arsenal. The only real gap in his personal power system, his lack of physical resilience. He had long delayed it, waiting for the right moment. Now, with the Observer class complete, it was time.
But he was met with disappointment again.
The class creation had failed.
Aegon focused on the only grayed out branch in the Class Tree.
[FAILED CLASS CREATION - PREREQUISITES PENDING]
[ Class: Ironblood Knight (Tier 2) ]
[ Prerequisites:
- All physical attributes ≥ 8.5 (satisfied)
- Max Level Class: Knight's Squire (satisfied)
- Possesses danger-sensing ability (satisfied)
- Survive a life-or-death fight or duel (pending) ]
[ Level 1 (000 / 3500) ]
[ Trait : Hardened Frame
(+10% increase in physical durability)
(+5% resistance to blunt force trauma, poison, fatigue, and bleeding) ]
[ Trait : Battle Reflex
(+10% reaction speed when responding to sudden threats)
(+10% spatial awareness and motion tracking under immediate danger) ]
It was perfect.
Everything he needed to increase his physical prowess and complement his spiritual and magical strengths.
But it remained grayed out.
The creation had failed.
One prerequisite was still pending: Survive a life-or-death fight or duel.
Aegon exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing as he stared at the requirement. Everything else had been fulfilled. His physical stats were high, his Knight's Squire class was maxed out, and he possessed the danger sense. Yet this final condition stood in his way like a locked gate. A silent judgment.
The irony wasn't lost on him. Every step he had taken so far, every class, every trait, had been carefully chosen to avoid this exact scenario. To never gamble with his life.
And now the only way forward… was to do exactly that.
He would have to suppress himself. Put himself in danger on purpose. Not just any danger, but one where death was real, immediate, and probable. And the worst part was: merely surviving wasn't enough. The system had to recognize it. There had to be real risk. Real blood.
But then again…did it truly require killing?
He frowned, turning the thought over in his mind. If he fought someone who genuinely tried to kill him...and won… would that count? If he subdued them, disarmed them, left them alive but broken…was that survival enough?
Or would the system see it as incomplete? What if the fight wasn't close enough? What if he won too easily? What if the danger didn't truly touch him?
Would the Class Tree still deem it a life-or-death experience?
He didn't know. And that uncertainty was worse than the risk itself.
Still, a small voice in him whispered that the answer was likely no. That in the end, he would have to stand at the edge…and make sure it was real. Even if the killing wasn't necessary, the threat had to be absolute.
The only way to be sure… was to make the danger unquestionable. And if killing his opponent ensured that, then so be it.
It wasn't about bloodlust. It wasn't even about cruelty. If the system needed death to be certain the fight was real, then perhaps it was wiser not to gamble. A dead opponent could not leave room for interpretation.
But the thought lingered. He had never taken a human life before, neither in this world nor the one that came before.
He no longer feared the act, those days were gone. He had long accepted that this world would, sooner or later, demand blood from him. What he hadn't expected was to be driven to that point, by his own Class Tree.
It felt… strange.
He had avoided the normal Knight class for a reason: it would almost certainly have a prerequisite involving a social or political oath. Swearing loyalty to a lord, receiving ceremonial knighthood, or pledging fealty to the Crown. Aegon had wanted none of that. So he had crafted something else. A battle-hardened variant that could rely on strength and survival, not politics or loyalty.
But it backfired.
Now the system demanded a fight for survival.
One where mercy might cost him this new class.
Aegon slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Sooner or later, he thought, this was bound to happen.
Still, it felt different… being forced by something he had built himself.
Not a war. Not vengeance. Not even necessity.
Just a requirement.
And a silent dare.