Chapter 3: “The Fated Stars” - "Hidden System: The Rise of the Nerd Overlord"

In the hush of night, where the wind whispered through the boughs beneath a silver moon, the crackle of the campfire tangled with the distant call of an owl.

In his sleep, Sihara stirred. The steady hiss and pop of burning wood pulled him toward wakefulness, and as his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he heard was Galia's voice speaking to someone.

"Hmm… nope. I don't remember anything — actually, my past. But I only know the war… and what happened two hundred years ago."

Her words hung in the night air, half-swallowed by the sound of the fire.

Sihara shifted slightly, his head heavy, and let his gaze wander toward the figures by the flames.

A man in white clothes sat across from Galia, posture straight, hands folded loosely in front of him. His eyes were sharp but calm, glinting faintly in the firelight — the same man traveling with Alren.

Dr. Kaelis.

Kaelis's gaze shifted, catching Sihara's eyes in the dim glow. There was a brief, unreadable pause before he spoke.

"You're awake."

Sihara groaned quietly, forcing himself upright — first lifting his head, then bracing an arm against the ground. His muscles protested, a deep soreness from the fight earlier spreading through his limbs. He exhaled sharply, wincing, but managed to sit.

Galia glanced over. "becarefull...(closer to him) you almost got killed remember ."

Sihara slowly blinked himself into awareness. "Huh, are you—"

"Ahh… he's the one who took care of us after we were unconscious," Galia cut in before he could finish.

The man in white — Dr. Kaelis — rose without a word and moved to the fire. He set down a small bag, pulling out fresh fish, a pouch of rice, and other wrapped rations. With calm, practiced motions, he cleaned the fish, laid them over the fire, and set the rice to steam. The aroma of cooking food soon filled the cool night air, and he added even more portions than two people would need.

Sihara's eyes followed him for a moment, the man's calm movements somehow making him more curious. Leaning toward Galia, he whispered, "Who is he?"

"I don't know, actually," she murmured back. "But… he said he knows you. And me."

Sihara stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes lingering on the man in white. Kaelis crouched near the flames, the orange light flickering over his calm, almost detached expression as he tended to the food. The fish sizzled softly over the fire, the steam from the rice rising in slow, curling wisps into the cool night air.

"Do you think he's… suspicious?" Sihara finally asked in a low voice, keeping his tone just above a whisper.

Galia tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if she had been thinking the same thing. "I can't say he is," she replied. "He doesn't look bad. But…" She glanced toward Kaelis again, watching the man sprinkle something from a small pouch over the fish. "The only thing I still don't understand is how he can be in this training realm. Furthermore…" her voice dropped, "he looks like he's been in this place for a long time."

Sihara frowned, curiosity mixing with unease. "How do you know that?"

"Huh? Ah—" Galia scratched her cheek as she thought. "While you were sleeping, we went fishing and gathered some fruit. He knew exactly where to go. Every spot. No hesitation. He even told us where the monsters spawn… and when they usually appear. Like he's memorized their habits."

Sihara glanced back toward Kaelis. The man was turning the fish over with precise, deliberate movements, as if every motion was calculated. He didn't look their way, but somehow, Sihara couldn't shake the feeling that he knew they were talking about him.

The fire popped, sending a small shower of sparks upward into the night sky. Kaelis calmly reached into his bag for more rations, preparing extra portions without asking if anyone was hungry.

"Do you think he's… suspicious?" Sihara finally asked in a low voice, keeping his tone just above a whisper.

Sihara frowned, curiosity mixing with unease. "How do you know that?"

The fire popped, sending a small shower of sparks upward into the night sky. Kaelis calmly reached into his bag for more rations, preparing extra portions without asking if anyone was hungry.

Sihara glanced back toward Kaelis. The man was turning the fish over with precise, deliberate movements, as if every motion was deliberate. He didn't look their way, but somehow, Sihara couldn't shake the feeling that he knew they were talking about him.

"Hm…" Kaelis finally turned his head toward them, the firelight catching in his eyes. A faint, genuine smile tugged at his lips. "Ahh~ you must be hungry, right? Let me give you some."

From his travel bag, he took out a carved wooden plate, its surface worn smooth by years of use. His hands moved with practiced ease, placing a perfectly grilled fish at the center, the skin crisp and golden, letting out a rich, inviting aroma. Beside it, he shaped a neat mound of rice, steaming gently in the cool night air, before drizzling over a clear, glimmering sauce that shimmered under the firelight like captured moonlight.

He added a pinch of crimson spice that released a warm, citrusy fragrance, then tucked a few green leaves along the side—small, glowing faintly blue, their scent fresh and clean like morning air after rain. Finally, he placed two slices of a pale azure fruit, its translucent flesh catching the light so beautifully it almost seemed like glass.

Kaelis carried the plate over, holding it out with both hands. "Here," he said softly. "You've had a rough fight. Eat, and let your body rest."

Sihara took it carefully, surprised by the warmth in Kaelis's tone. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kaelis replied with an easy smile, before returning to the fire to prepare another dish.

Beside Sihara, Galia leaned in to peek at the plate. "Wow… this looks amazing. I didn't think campfire food could look like this."

Kaelis glanced over his shoulder. "Food tastes better when it's shared. Besides—" he gave the fish a careful turn, "—a full stomach makes for a better mood, and a better mood keeps you alive longer."

Sihara chuckled quietly, his shoulders relaxing. "Guess that's true."

The night felt a little warmer after that.

Sihara picked up a small wooden fork from the side of the plate and took his first bite. The fish was tender, flaking apart effortlessly, the crisp skin carrying just the right amount of smoky char from the fire. The sauce soaked into the rice, each grain fluffy and warm, carrying a faint sweetness that reminded him of festivals back in the village he grew up in. The glowing herbs left a cool, minty aftertaste, like a breeze passing over a mountain stream, while the pale blue fruit burst softly on his tongue—sweet, with a faint fizz that made his mouth tingle pleasantly.

He paused for a moment, looking down at the plate again. For a place like this—a training realm where danger lurked just beyond the treeline—this meal felt… out of place. Gentle. Kind.

Lifting his gaze, Sihara found Kaelis still crouched by the fire, turning the next fish with the same careful precision he'd shown before. The man's movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if the world beyond the campfire didn't exist for him.

"Thanks," Sihara said quietly. His voice came out rough, not just from the fight earlier, but from the weight of the words themselves. "Not just for this—" he held up the plate slightly "—but for looking after me while I was unconscious."

Kaelis didn't answer right away. He set the fish back down, let it sizzle, and then looked over his shoulder. The firelight caught in his eyes, softening them. "You don't need to thank me. I was here, you needed help, so I helped. That's all."

Sihara let out a slow breath. "Maybe. But in this place, with what's out there…" He glanced toward the dark forest beyond the campfire's light. "It means more than you think."

Kaelis studied him for a moment longer, then gave a faint smile—barely there, but genuine. "Then I'll accept your thanks."

For a while, the only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the gentle whisper of wind through the trees. The warmth of the flames brushed against Sihara's face, and the savory scent of the food seemed to settle his thoughts. He realized it had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of quiet—safe, even if only for a moment.

He took another bite, slower this time, letting the flavors linger. "It's… really good," he admitted. "Not just the taste. It's… comforting."

Kaelis's hands didn't stop working, but there was a subtle curve to his mouth as he replied, "Good food should always comfort. Especially in places like this."

Sihara looked down at the plate again, feeling an odd mix of gratitude and curiosity. Whoever this man was, he wasn't just another passerby in the realm. There was something steady, grounded, about him—something that made Sihara want to trust him, even if he knew he shouldn't so easily.

Kaelis, now sitting cross-legged by the fire with his own plate, took a slow bite of fish before speaking casually—almost too casually.

"Sihara, right? So… how about your cheat skill now?"

The words slid into the night air like a blade slipping between armor plates.

Sihara froze mid-bite, his eyes widening. "Cheat… system?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge in it. He turned to Kaelis, staring hard. "How do you know it?"

Beside him, Galia's head snapped toward Kaelis, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. She had never heard anyone else speak of such a thing. "Wait… what?"

Sihara's grip on the wooden fork tightened, his pulse picking up. No one was supposed to know about it. No one.

Galia leaned forward, her voice firm. "And by the way—how can you even be in this place? This is a closed training realm. How do you know all of us?"

Kaelis didn't answer right away. He calmly set his plate down, wiped his hands with a cloth, and looked at them both in turn. The firelight painted his face in warm gold, but his eyes held something unreadable—like a man deciding how much truth the night could handle.

"It's okay, Galia," Kaelis said with an easy smile. "What matters is that we've met again. Last time we spoke, you told me I should seal everything until the cheat power found its way into the right hands."

Galia tilted her head. "Have we? I… don't remember that at all."

"Exactly," Kaelis replied simply.

Sihara leaned forward. "So—Kaelis-san—you know Galia, right? Then tell me everything about her."

Kaelis shook his head. "Sorry. I can't."

"You can't?" Sihara's voice sharpened. "Or you won't?"

Kaelis raised his hand and pointed at Galia. "If you want to know the truth about her—"

"Uh…" Galia glanced between them, uncertainty flickering across her face.

"—or about me," he continued, pointing his thumb toward himself, "you'll have to seek that truth for yourself."

Sihara frowned. "You're telling me you hold the answers, but you expect me to go chasing them blind?"

"Some truths," Kaelis said, calm as ever, "lose their meaning when handed over too easily."

Galia frowned. "Then why even tell us you know something?"

"Because," Kaelis said evenly, "I want you to understand I'm not your enemy."

Sihara looked down, exhaling slowly. "…Is that so," he muttered, his tone carrying a trace of disappointment.

Kaelis leaned forward slightly. "But—"

Sihara's head rose at the word.

"—let me make it clear." His gaze locked onto Sihara's. "I can be trusted. If you need me—no matter when, no matter why—I'll help. Got it?"

There was a pause before Sihara gave a reluctant nod. "…Got it."

"Good." Kaelis leaned back, eyes closing for a brief moment. "You'll see for yourself, in time."

Then, with a small push against the ground, Kaelis stood. "But first, you need to sleep. Tomorrow, we'll talk about your cheat system. And don't worry—if you don't already know, time moves faster in this realm than it does outside—"

"Ah, I know that rule already," Sihara cut in. "Galia told me."

Kaelis raised an eyebrow, then smirked faintly. "Is that so? Well, that saves me the trouble. Have a good night, then."

Without another word, he made his way toward his tent. Sihara and Galia exchanged a brief look before retreating to theirs as well, the crackle of the fire softening into the night's quiet.

Place : Training Realm – Mountain Side, Morning

The fog clung thick between the pine trees, muffling every sound. Each stone underfoot was slick with moss, turning the climb into a slow, grueling ordeal. Ahead, Kaelis moved with steady resolve, his figure a dark silhouette swallowed by the haze, while Shinya lagged behind, breath ragged.

"Mr. Kaelis… where are we going?" Shinya called, his voice breaking the silence.

Kaelis stopped. For a moment, the mist seemed to devour him whole. "…I need to go to a place," he said at last, before pressing onward.

Shinya groaned, dragging his feet. "Do we really have to climb this high? My legs are screaming already…"

Kaelis gave no reply. His back remained straight, his steps unshaken, as if the mountain itself urged him forward.

When they finally broke through the fog, Shinya collapsed onto the damp grass, chest heaving. He threw his arms out dramatically. "I'm… done. Just bury me here."

Galia scoffed, floating lazily above him with a smug grin. "Pathetic. If this is all it takes to knock you out, how do you expect to survive a real fight?"

Shinya turned his head with weary irritation. "Shut it. Easy for you to say—you don't even use your legs. You just fly around like it's nothing."

She bristled at that, voice rising. "Oi! Flying is exhausting too, you know!"

Shinya pushed himself up, upper body rising though his legs still sprawled out before him. "Where's the doctor, anyway…?"

"Oh, he's right ther—W-Whoa!" Galia's words cut off, her eyes widening in shock.

Shinya frowned. "Huh? What are you—" His voice faltered as he followed her gaze. "Oh… by the gods…"

Before them stood a massive stone monument, nearly eighteen feet tall and stretching twenty meters in length. Its base was broad, rooted deep into the earth, and its body rose straight upward like a sentinel from ages past. All four sides were flat, though the corners had been worn smooth by time, and faint carvings traced across its weathered face. The top narrowed ever so slightly, giving it the solemn shape of a colossal tablet.

Shinya staggered to his feet, unable to look away. "What… is this?"

Kaelis was already there, kneeling before the monument with head bowed and hands clasped in silent prayer. For a long moment, only the wind stirred, carrying the sound of Shinya's heartbeat in his ears.

"Doctor?" Shinya called softly. "What are you doing?"

Kaelis raised his head. His expression was calm, yet behind his eyes lingered a sorrow no smile could conceal. "Nothing," he said gently, rising to his feet. "Just… something I needed to do."

His gaze lingered on the monument, as though seeing something invisible to the others. The weight in his eyes was undeniable—a quiet loneliness carved as deep as the stone itself.

Shinya and Galia stood in silence, their earlier banter forgotten. In that moment, Kaelis wasn't just their doctor. He was a man burdened with grief that belonged to another time.

Kaelis brushed the damp from his knees and let his hand linger against the monument, tracing the faded carvings like words only he could read. Then, with a quiet breath, he let go.

"Come," he said softly, his voice steady but distant. "We shouldn't stay too long."

Shinya parted his lips to question him, but the look in Kaelis's eyes stopped him. It wasn't anger, nor was it simple sadness. It was something heavier—something Shinya wasn't ready to understand.

So he stayed silent.

Even Galia, for once, held her tongue.

The three of them lingered a moment longer beneath the looming monument, its presence like that of a silent guardian, before following Kaelis down the mountain path.

Training Realm – Grassfield, Morning

The fog and stone were far behind them now. A wide field stretched beneath the pale morning sun, the grass still heavy with dew. A thin mist clung low to the ground, and the air carried the cool scent of earth and pine. Cicadas had not yet begun their song—only the soft rustle of wind moved through the silence.

Sihara stepped onto the open grass, Kaelis and Galia trailing just behind him. Taking a deep breath, he turned and lifted his hand.

A crimson light flickered across his palm, spreading up his arm until it burned at his elbow. The glow pulsed like living fire, and his grip on the spear tightened. Planting one foot forward, he steadied himself.

"Javelin…" His voice rang with tension.

He drew back, muscles taut across his shoulders, then hurled the spear with every ounce of strength.

"Missile!"

The weapon tore through the air, wrapped in a blaze of crimson light. With a sharp boom, it cut a hole into the air itself, the force cracking against the stillness before slamming into the trees ahead. Branches snapped and splintered as the glowing spear tore a line through the grove.

Galia's eyes widened, her voice bursting out in awe. "Woooooaaahhh…"

Sihara spun back toward them, grinning with exhilaration. "You see that?!" He ran toward them, chest heaving with excitement. "Did you see that—cool, right? At last I have a power now!" He let out a triumphant shout, his voice echoing lightly across the field.

But before his pride could swell further, Kaelis spoke, calm yet cutting.

"Not quite."

Sihara blinked, the grin faltering.

Kaelis had rested his index finger thoughtfully beneath his lower lip, his expression unreadable. "That was power, yes. But not the same strength as the true Javelin Missile I've seen before."

The words stung, though they were not spoken unkindly.

Kaelis lowered his hand, his eyes fixing on Sihara with quiet focus. "Sihara-kun… check your status."

Sihara blinked, his chest still rising and falling with excitement. "Uh… o… oh…"

He quickly opened his status screen. The numbers flared before his eyes, and his jaw dropped. "Eh… EEEEEHHHHH?!" His shout echoed across the field, the shock etched plainly on his face.

His level had jumped to ten. But that wasn't what stunned him. His stats—Strength, Dexterity, Agility—each towered above the norm, sitting at an impossible fifty-five points.

Kaelis tilted his head, letting out a soft hum. "Hmm… well, not bad for a new player, I suppose." He smirked faintly, lips curving just enough to betray his amusement.

"HAHAHA!" Galia burst into laughter, twirling smugly in the air. "See that, kid? I told you! The cheat system is working!" Her sing-song tone carried arrogance, as if she were the one responsible for his sudden power.

Still staring at the glowing numbers, Sihara frowned. "Uhm… but Doctor… how can you see my status?"

Kaelis raised a hand calmly. A flicker of light shimmered across his eyes, sharp like sunlight striking glass. With his other hand, he revealed a small, transparent card that hovered just above his palm.

"I have this skill," he said evenly.

Sihara leaned closer, squinting at the glowing words etched into the card. His lips moved as he read them aloud. "…Appraisal Eyes…"

The name lingered in the air like a spell—weighty, undeniable.

Kaelis lowered the card, slipping it away as though it had never been. His gaze lingered on Sihara, calm yet piercing. "With this skill, anyone can read another's status. But your screen…" He paused, the faintest smile curling his lips. "…isn't something I can see."

Sihara's breath hitched. "W–what do you mean by that?"

Kaelis didn't answer immediately. He bent down, plucked up a stone, and held it casually in one hand. "Look at me. I am a Mageman. My power is rooted in spellcraft and control over elements. For example—"

He whispered, "Telum Saxorum."

The stone shot from his palm like an arrow. It cut through the mist with a whistle and slammed into a tree trunk, splitting wood with a heavy crack. The tree shuddered, then toppled with a groan, scattering leaves across the grass.

Kaelis dusted his hands lightly, as if it were nothing more than routine. "See? This is my class. A Mageman draws power from the world, shaping it into something tangible. Every skill has its place. Every power has its origin."

He turned his head slightly, glasses catching the pale light of morning, a faint smile spreading across his face. "But you, Sihara-kun… you are something else entirely. Now, try that spell I just showed you."

Sihara stiffened. "H-huh? Me?!"

"Yes, you," Kaelis said, tone matter-of-fact. "Repeat the words. Telum Saxorum."

Sihara gripped the nearest stone with both hands, face tightening with determination. He planted his feet wide, raised the rock dramatically over his head, and shouted with all the force he could muster, "TELUM SAXORUM!"

…

Nothing happened.

The stone sat there. Heavy. Unmoved. Sihara's arms trembled from the weight, his expression frozen somewhere between desperation and confidence. After a long, awkward silence, the stone slipped from his sweaty hands and bonked straight onto his foot.

"OWWWWWW! AAAAAAHHHH!" He hopped in circles, clutching his foot, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "W-why does it only work for you?!"

Kaelis sighed, adjusting his glasses with a calm flick of his finger. "Because you're not a Mageman, obviously."

"THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE ME DO IT?!" Sihara screamed, his voice cracking as he continued hopping on one leg.

Galia was already rolling in the air, clutching her stomach as she laughed uncontrollably. "Pffft—BWAHAHAHA! Ohhh, kid, the look on your face—priceless! You thought you'd blow up the tree, didn't you?!"

Sihara jabbed a finger at her, still grimacing in pain. "Shut up! You could've at least warned me it wouldn't work!"

"Why?" Galia then said. "Watching you suffer is way more fun!"

Kaelis, meanwhile, watched the commotion with his usual serene expression. Only the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed that he was holding back a laugh. He cleared his throat, composing himself. "Consider it a lesson, Sihara-kun. Not all powers are yours to wield. Your path is… different."

"Different?!" Sihara barked, still rubbing his foot. "Different my ass, you just set me up to break my toes!"

Kaelis observed quietly, lips pressed in a faint line—but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed he was suppressing laughter. He cleared his throat. "Consider it a lesson, Sihara-kun. Not all powers are yours to wield. Your path is… different."

"Different?!" Sihara snapped, still rubbing his foot. "Different my ass, you just made me break my toes!"

A soft chime echoed.

[Notification: Resistance – 33]

Sihara froze. "Eh? Resistance… thirty-three?"

Galia tilted her head. "Hmm… wait a sec. If I'm not wrong, didn't you trigger something like that when the ogre stabbed you?… Aha! I knew it!"

Sihara's eyes widened. He quickly turned toward Kaelis. "Sensei…"

Kaelis hummed. "Hm? What is it?"

Sihara stepped closer, firm. "Can you… shoot that spell again?"

Kaelis blinked, brows raised. "…What? Why?"

"Just do it, please."

Kaelis sighed. "…Very well." He lifted his hand toward a tree. "Telum Saxorum!"

The stone whistled through the air—

—and Sihara leapt directly in front of it.

"WAIT—!" Kaelis's eyes widened.

BRAK! The projectile slammed into Sihara's stomach, throwing him to the ground with a heavy thud.

"SIHARA!!" Galia's scream tore out—but before she could reach him, his eyes fluttered open. He coughed once, then slowly sat up, brushing dirt from his shirt.

"…Eh? That… didn't hurt nearly as much as before."

[Notification: Magic Resistance +1 → 34]

[Notification: New Skill Unlocked – Earth Element Affinity]

Sihara blinked at the glowing screens above him, dumbfounded. "…Wait. I just leveled up from getting shot?!"

Before he could celebrate, Galia swooped down and smacked him square on the head.

BRUK!

"You IDIOT!" she screamed, puffing her cheeks in fury. "What the hell were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of a spell?!"

Sihara rubbed his head sheepishly, grinning. "…Hey, at least it worked."

Kaelis smirked faintly, adjusting his glasses. "Tell me, Sihara-kun… is it really necessary for you to get hit every single time just to grow stronger?"

Sihara scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely lost. "I… don't know. But when that ogre skewered me, and when the golem smashed me, I got these skills out of nowhere. It's like… they weren't even supposed to exist."

His brows furrowed. Even he couldn't explain it.

Kaelis's eyes narrowed, curiosity glinting behind the glass. "…Interesting. Then—can you reproduce it now, without being struck?"

"Hmm… let me try."

Sihara planted his feet firmly, extended his hand toward a nearby boulder, and shouted with all the spirit he could muster—

"TELUM SAXORUM!"

…

Nothing.

The air was silent, save for the sound of a bird fluttering away. The rock didn't even twitch.

"..."

Sihara's arm wavered, and his face fell flat in disappointment. "…Yeah, no. Still nothing."

Galia burst out laughing again, nearly rolling midair. "PFFFT—oh, this is priceless! So unless you throw yourself into danger, you're basically useless!"

"Shut up!" Sihara barked, face burning red. "This has to make sense somehow! I'm not just a punching bag, damn it!"

Kaelis tilted his head slightly, glasses glinting as he regarded him. "Then let me ask, Sihara-kun… what do you think this system of yours actually looks like?"

"Huh?" Sihara blinked, scratching his cheek. "Uh… well… it kinda feels like when I open my status screen, right? It's like… a table with numbers. Like a game… heh. A game?"

His words trailed off as he froze mid-thought. Slowly, his eyes shifted back toward the glowing panel before him.

(…Wait. If I really look at this carefully… it is like a game. Then… if it's a game… that means—!)

Sihara thrust out his hand dramatically, shouting with sudden inspiration:

"SKILL TABLE—OPEN!"

With a flash, another screen materialized before him. Rows upon rows of skills scrolled endlessly, passive and active alike—enough to make his jaw drop.

"W-WOAAAAHHHHH! This… this is insane!! There's a million of them!" His eyes sparkled with childlike wonder.

Galia blinked, then suddenly slapped her forehead. "Ohhh—right! Before you can use those skills, you actually need to activate them first!"

Sihara's head snapped toward her. "You WHAT?! Why didn't you say that earlier?!"

She gave a sheepish laugh, twirling in the air. "Ehehe… forgot that tiny detail."

"You're unbelievable…" Sihara groaned, but his eyes never left the dazzling menu.

Kaelis, meanwhile, observed calmly, lips curving into the faintest smile. "Well, now you see. This so-called cheat of yours functions exactly like a game system—menus, skills, progression. But it doesn't end there. There are also… daily rewards, quests, even achievements."

Sihara gasped, eyes wide. "D-daily gifts too?! This is AMAZING!"

His whole body trembled with excitement, as if he had just discovered an entirely new world.

Galia squinted, floating lower as her tiny body leaned forward. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Kaelis, as if she were trying to peek past those heavy bangs that always hid his gaze. "…You sure know a lot about this 'system,' don't you?" she muttered, voice edged with doubt.

Kaelis didn't answer her directly. Instead, he shifted his head slightly toward Sihara, his lips curving into that faint, unreadable smile.

"Now then, Sihara-kun… what you need to do next is simple. Train. Here, within this place. If you can raise your power in just a single day, then in the outside world… you might just climb high enough to rival even a Rank Seven warrior."

Sihara's eyes lit up instantly. "Yeah, that makes sense! Then I'll—" he froze mid-sentence, blinking. His face twisted into confusion. "…Wait. Hold on. That means… if one day here equals, like… fifty years out there, then for me it's just one day, but in reality… it's—fifty freakin' years?!"

The color drained from Sihara's face. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air.

Kaelis tilted his head again, bangs slipping further across his face, shadowing his unseen eyes. His faint smile deepened.

"What's wrong, Sihara-kun? Already thinking of giving up? Is it… too heavy for you?"

Sihara clenched his fists. His mind flashed with every humiliating moment—the spear piercing his side, the golem's crushing blow, the laughter, the pity. Every pain he had endured.

Slowly, he raised his head. Kaelis saw it—the boy's trembling frame, the fire finally flickering behind the weakness.

"…No," Sihara said, voice firming. His lips twisted into a grimace that bordered on a grin. "I'll do it. I've had enough of being the laughingstock. This time… I'll be—STRONGER!"

Kaelis's lips parted slightly, his hidden eyes narrowing with a glimmer of surprise. Then, a rare smile spread across his face. "…Is that so."

He turned his back, coat swaying lightly. "Then I'll leave the rest to you." His steps carried him forward, and at his side, a rectangle of shimmering light opened—like a door cut into reality itself.

He paused, his head shifting just enough that his bangs swayed.

"Galia," he said softly, his tone calm but weighty. "Guide him well."

The tiny spirit stiffened, caught off guard, then puffed up proudly. "Hmph, of course I will! You can count on me!"

Kaelis gave a faint nod. "Good. Then… let's meet again tomo—" He stopped, correcting himself with the faintest chuckle. "…No. Many years later."

With that, he stepped through the radiant door. The light swallowed him whole, and the space snapped shut with a low hum—leaving Sihara and Galia alone in the boundless training ground.

The noon air was warm and heavy, carrying the lazy hum of cicadas through the forest. Sihara sat slouched on the fallen trunk of a massive tree, chin resting on one hand, the other hand idly flicking through the glowing panels that hovered in front of him.

The cheat menu shimmered faintly, shifting every time his finger traced across it. For hours, he had been buried in the STATUS tab—tinkering with numbers, re-checking his attributes, wondering why his resistance had gone up again—but now it was starting to feel repetitive.

Behind him, Galia had clearly grown bored. The little spirit had abandoned her half-hearted attempts to peek at the invisible screens and was now fluttering from flower to flower, humming tunelessly. At one point she chased after a pair of butterflies, at another she crouched down to stare at a beetle marching across a leaf.

"Man, you're hopeless," she sighed, rolling onto her back in a bed of daisies. "Normal people would use their time in a sacred training realm to, I don't know, train. But nooo, you just sit there like a zombie pressing invisible buttons. You're worse than an addict."

"Shut up. This is important," Sihara muttered, not even glancing at her. His finger tapped the screen again, moving past the familiar words—

STATUSSKILL MAPITEMACHIEVEMENT…

His eyes narrowed as the cursor stopped. "…Wait. What's this?"

Another option flickered faintly at the bottom of the list, as if it had always been there but blurred out until now. Slowly, the text sharpened:

HOUSING.

Sihara blinked. "…Housing? Like… a house?"

Curiosity prickled in his chest. He pressed it.

The screen rippled, rearranging itself. A new interface unfolded before his eyes like a parchment map being rolled open. Grids spread outward across the empty space, and strange glowing icons began to appear—tiny symbols of huts, fences, farms, and more.

HOUSING SYSTEM – [Realm of the Administrator]

Owner: Sihara

Territory: 100m radius

Structures: None

Available Commands: Build / Expand / Dismantle / Decorate

Sihara's jaw nearly dropped. He rubbed his eyes, then looked again. "Y-you've got to be kidding me… This whole forest… it's not just a training ground. It's my… property?!"

Behind him, Galia wandered aimlessly through the field, her small hands cradling a bundle of freshly plucked wildflowers. She approached lazily, holding them up as though comparing their colors in the light.

But before she reached him, a sudden burst of wings erupted from the blossoms. A cloud of butterflies spiraled upward, scattering golden motes of dust in the sunlight. Startled, Galia squeaked and darted back, hugging the flowers to her chest as she fled behind a nearby tree.

Sihara barely noticed. His gaze was fixed on the glowing menu, pupils darting as he scrolled. "Huh. Materials… chopping wood, mining stone… makes sense." His finger flicked downward. "Wait… I've already got a stockpile? Wood… stone… a lot of it too."

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Alright then. Let's try this."

The moment he tapped the Build command, the air rippled. A holographic structure flared to life before him, its transparent walls and beams hovering like a ghostly blueprint. Sihara reached out hesitantly, then gasped when the image responded, shifting at the motion of his hand.

"Woooaaahhh…" His eyes widened, tracing the phantom outline as he rotated it in the air. "So this is… like a projection? I can place it anywhere I want…"

He scanned the field. After a long moment, he nodded toward the riverbank, where the grass stretched open and the water shimmered like glass. "Here. This is perfect."

With a push of his hand, the blueprint surged forward.

The ground quaked. Light poured down like threads of silver, weaving together into beams, planks, and stone. Foundations anchored themselves, walls rose, and a roof unfurled with a snap of brilliance. In less than a breath, what had begun as a hologram solidified into towering reality.

A house—no, a mansion—now stood proudly at the river's edge. Polished wood gleamed in the sun, its wide balcony catching the light, its windows glistening like polished glass.

Sihara stumbled back, awestruck. "This… this is mine…?!"

From behind the tree, Galia peeked out, flowers still clutched to her chest, her eyes wide in disbelief at the sight of the gleaming structure.

The door swung open with a faint creak, and Sihara stepped inside with Galia fluttering at his shoulder. His breath caught.

The interior was vast—far larger than he expected from the outside. Sunlight poured in through tall windows, glinting off polished wooden floors. A grand staircase curved upward, splitting into two paths that led to the upper hall. Doors lined both sides of the corridor, each leading to its own spacious bedroom—nine in total, and each one with a private bath and toilet.

"This… this is insane," Sihara muttered, turning in place with wide eyes. "It's like a mansion built for nobles. And it's all mine?!"

He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Now all we need to do is buy a bunch of property, right? Beds, tables, shelves—stuff to make this feel like a real home."

Galia floated past him, her tiny wings leaving a faint shimmer of light as she glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze was sharp, almost exasperated. "Buy? What are you talking about? You can craft everything inside the housing system too."

"Huh? Seriously?" Sihara blinked. He pulled the glowing panel open again, fingers hovering as he navigated. Sure enough, new options had appeared: Furniture, Interior, Decoration.

His lips curled into a grin. "Okay then… let's try it."

One by one, he began placing items. A large bed materialized in the master room, its frame solid oak with crisp white sheets. Tables, chairs, shelves, even a low dining table with cushions snapped into place, filling the once-empty space. Curtains appeared over the tall windows, rugs stretched across the floor, and soon the hollow mansion began to feel alive.

Hours passed in a blur. By the time he finished, the house no longer felt like an empty shell—it pulsed with warmth, like a real home.

Exhaustion finally settled into his limbs. With a deep sigh, he stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes, stepping into the bathroom. Steam rose from the shower as the day's fatigue washed away with the dirt and sweat of battle.

When he finally collapsed into the soft bed, the sheets cool against his skin, he couldn't help but let out a long exhale.

The glowing menu hovered once again before his tired eyes. He scrolled through his STATUS, SKILL MAP, and HOUSING tabs, rechecking every detail like a man who still couldn't believe any of this was real.

The door swung open with a faint creak, and Sihara stepped inside with Galia fluttering at his shoulder. His breath caught.

"This… this is insane," Sihara muttered, turning in place with wide eyes. "It's like a mansion built for nobles. And it's all mine?!"

He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Now all we need to do is buy a bunch of property, right? Beds, tables, shelves—stuff to make this feel like a real home."

"Huh? Seriously?" Sihara blinked. He pulled the glowing panel open again, fingers hovering as he navigated. Sure enough, new options had appeared: Furniture, Interior, Decoration.

His lips curled into a grin. "Okay then… let's try it."

Hours passed in a blur. By the time he finished, the house no longer felt like an empty shell—it pulsed with warmth, like a real home.

When he finally collapsed into the soft bed, the sheets cool against his skin, he couldn't help but let out a long exhale.

The glowing menu lingered in the dim light of the bedroom, humming faintly like it was alive. Sihara's gaze drifted down to a tab he hadn't touched yet—SKILL MAP.

"…Alright. Let's see what you're hiding," he muttered, pressing it.

The interface shifted at once. A new diagram unfolded before his eyes, like an intricate constellation. Branches of light spread outward into three main categories:

[Battle Skills]

[Blessing Skills]

[Survival Skills]

Sihara's curiosity pulled him toward the first. He tapped Battle Skills.

The constellation zoomed in, splitting into two neat sections: Weapon Skills above, Monster Skills below.

Lines of faintly glowing text filled the air:

Weapon Skills – [Unlocked: Spear Technique I]

Status: Basic familiarity acquired. Further proficiency required to unlock advanced skills.

Other Weapon Trees: Locked.

Sihara tilted his head. "So the system tracks weapons separately… and only what I've touched or used. Makes sense."

His eyes trailed downward. The Monster Skill Tree pulsed faintly. There, nestled between dim, gray icons, one skill shone in faint blue:

[Javelin Missile] – Ogre Version

Skill Type: Active / Projectile

Acquisition Method: Earned after sustaining and surviving direct impact from Ogre-class ability [Stone Javelin Barrage].

Requirement: Player must endure a fatal strike, survive with critical vitality, and maintain combat presence.

Description: Converts physical weapon throws into mana-charged javelins. Power scales with Strength + Mana Control.

Sihara blinked. "…Heeeehhh. So that's how I got this? Just by getting smashed in the chest?"

He rubbed his ribs instinctively, remembering the bone-rattling impact. The system, it seemed, rewarded recklessness with power.

Scrolling further, another faint glow caught his attention—deeper in the Monster Skill branch.

[Lightning Annihilator] – Golem Fragment]

Skill Type: Active / Area Burst

Acquisition Method: Triggered by direct contact with Lesser Thunder Golem's core energy.

Requirement: Survive prolonged lightning discharge without complete mana collapse.

Description: Channels unstable lightning into a concentrated burst. High destructive potential, but severe mana cost. Risk of self-harm at low resistance.

Sihara let out a long whistle. "…So that's what I felt back then. I almost fried alive, but instead the system… turned it into a weapon."

His fingers hovered, scrolling down to check for more. Most of the other nodes remained locked, their symbols dim, waiting to be awakened by battle, pain, or chance encounters.

"…This thing is dangerous," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "But if it works the same way… then the more I fight, the more I get hit, the more I'll grow. Even if it kills me first."

Sihara scrolled back up, eyes locking onto the glowing weapon branch again. This time, more detail shimmered into view beside his spear skill.

[Spear Technique] – Rank 15th (Master Level 2)

Proficiency: 62%

Progression: Use in combat or training to increase familiarity. After reaching 100%, rank up.

Note: After achieving [Master] class, weapon techniques evolve beyond standard forms. Requires sustained practice.

Sihara frowned, tapping the floating text. "…Rank 15th, Master Level 2? Huh. So if I use it more, it levels up…? Wait, but this says after Master I'll loop back to Beginner at Rank 14th?"

He squinted, rubbing his chin. "So the cycle resets—but stronger each time. Like… rebirth for skills. That's insane."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin. He couldn't resist. Throwing the blanket aside, he swung his legs off the bed and padded barefoot across the polished floor. "No way I'm sleeping on this without testing it."

The front door creaked open, and the cool night air rushed in. The river glimmered faintly behind the mansion, fireflies drifting lazily in the dark.

"Alright… let's try this theory."

Pulling open the housing menu, Sihara navigated into [Furniture > Utility] and found an option he hadn't noticed earlier.

Training Dummy – Wooden (Durability: 500 HP)

Material Cost: 10 Wood, 2 Stone

"Perfect."

He tapped Build. A glow sparked in the grass, and in an instant a sturdy, human-shaped dummy rose from the ground, its surface marked with faint practice lines.

Sihara spun his spear in one hand, the blade whistling as it cut the air. "Alright… let's see if this works."

The first thrust struck dead-center into the dummy's chest. A faint pulse rippled through the cheat menu floating at his side:

Spear Technique +0.01%

Sihara's grin widened. "Heh. So it really is like grinding exp."

He pulled the spear free and slashed in a diagonal arc.

Spear Technique +0.02%

Again. And again. His strikes grew faster, sharper, each blow cutting through the night air with a whistle. The training dummy creaked and swayed with every impact, while faint increments flashed beside the menu.

+0.01%… +0.03%… +0.02%…

Sihara paused, chest heaving slightly, sweat prickling at his brow. He glanced at the percentage: 62% → 65%.

"…Just a few minutes of practice, and it's already climbing." He chuckled under his breath, resting the spear against his shoulder. "So if I keep pushing this… the spear skill will evolve beyond what anyone else can reach. Master after Master. Infinite loops of strength."

His hand tightened around the shaft of the weapon, excitement thrumming through his veins. "This system really is broken."

The dummy groaned under its abuse, splinters cracking at its base.

Sihara lowered his spear, panting lightly, the dull thud of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He glanced at the glowing percentage again.

65% → 65.01%.

He clicked his tongue. "…But standing here poking a dummy… this is too damn slow. At this rate, I'll be old before I max anything."

He straightened, resting the spear against his shoulder. A flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. At first he thought it was just the shadows of swaying branches—until the rustle grew louder. Leaves cracked. Low, guttural yips and growls echoed from the treeline.

Sihara's gaze sharpened. "…Hoh?"

Dozens—no, hundreds—of small, hunched figures poured from the dark forest, their eyes glowing with feral hunger. Their crude weapons—stone axes, bone daggers, splintered clubs—caught the faint moonlight.

Kobolds.

And they were surrounding the mansion like a tide of gnashing teeth and snarling throats.

Sihara exhaled, his lips curling upward into a predator's grin. "Excellent… maybe I can try with them."

He shifted into stance, spear tip gleaming faintly in the moonlight. The kobolds barked and screeched, circling tighter, their claws scraping against the dirt.

The first one lunged.

Sihara's body moved before thought. His spear flashed, a clean arc slicing the night.

SHHKK!

The kobold's head separated cleanly from its shoulders. Blood sprayed into the air as the body crumpled to the grass.

The cheat menu pulsed.

[Spear Technique – Rank 15th (Master Lv. 3)]

Proficiency increased through live combat. Evolution accelerated.

Sihara froze for just a heartbeat, blinking at the glowing notification. "…That fast?"

A sharp laugh tore from his throat, wild and exhilarated. "Hah! Perfect!"

The kobolds howled in unison, the sound rattling through the forest like a drum of war. Their swarm tightened, a wall of teeth and steel rushing him all at once.

But Sihara only lowered his stance further, spear trembling with restrained power.

"Come, then!" he shouted, eyes alight with madness and joy. "Let's see how far I can push this broken system tonight!"

The swarm charged as one, their snarls cutting through the night. Claws scraped stone, crude blades glinted, and the ground trembled beneath the rush of bodies.

Sihara planted his feet, spear lowered like the fang of some ancient beast. His breath slowed—then snapped. He lunged.

The spear thrust forward with brutal precision, skewering the first kobold clean through the chest. Momentum carried him into the next, a spinning sweep that tore through two necks at once. Shhkk—shhk! Blood sprayed across the grass.

The menu pulsed.

[Spear Technique] [Master Lv. 6 → Proficiency 12%]

A growl erupted from behind. Without turning, Sihara pivoted, spear reversing in his grip. The butt end cracked into a kobold's jaw with a sickening crunch, launching it into the dirt. Another leapt from the side, stone axe raised high.

"Too slow."

He twisted, spear cutting upward in a rising arc. The kobold split from waist to shoulder, entrails spilling in a gruesome spray. The system chimed again.

[Spear Technique +0.25%]

Dozens more surrounded him, a wall of snarling fur and steel. Sihara's grin widened. His body felt lighter, sharper—the spear an extension of his will.

"Not enough! Give me more!"

He surged forward, spinning his spear in a brutal whirlwind. The blade became a storm, carving flesh, breaking bones, leaving trails of crimson in the night. Each kill sent another surge of energy into the glowing menu.

[Master Lv. 18 → Proficiency 48%]

Kobolds screamed, yipping in pain as their numbers were cut down. Yet more poured from the trees, dozens turning to hundreds. The mansion's grounds were swarmed, the night alive with shrieks and blood.

Sihara's body burned, but he didn't falter. The more he fought, the clearer everything became—every feint, every twitch of an enemy's muscle, every path of attack.

A kobold chieftain, taller and broader, shoved through the horde. Its crude bone club crackled faintly with mana, swinging down with enough force to crater the ground.

Sihara crossed his spear against it. The impact rattled his arms, but he held firm, eyes blazing. The cheat menu pulsed brighter—like it was responding to his will.

[Master Lv. 31 → Proficiency 22%]

New Passive Unlocked: Flow Motion – Consecutive strikes link seamlessly, reducing stamina drain.

A shock ran down his arms. Suddenly the spear felt weightless, every movement flowing like water. He shoved upward, twisting, and the chieftain's weapon flew from its hands. The next strike was merciless.

THUNK!

The spear rammed straight through its skull, pinning the corpse to the earth. The kobolds froze. For a heartbeat, silence stretched across the blood-soaked field. Then Sihara yanked the spear free, blood dripping down its shaft. His smile was feral, eyes burning with exhilaration.

The swarm shrieked in fury, and the battle began anew. But this time, Sihara didn't just fight—he danced. Each step flowed into the next, his spear tracing arcs of death. Heads toppled, bodies split, kobolds impaled in seamless rhythm. Notifications blurred together at the edges of his vision:

[Master 36 → 38 → 43 → 55]

Finally, with a savage thrust that ripped through three kobolds in a row, the menu blazed with golden light.

[Spear Technique – Rank 15th (Master Lv. 69)]

Threshold Reached: Spear Technique is prepared to evolve upon next breakthrough.

Sihara stood in the center of a field of corpses, chest heaving, clothes drenched in blood. Yet his grin never faded. He twirled the spear, its blade glinting crimson in the moonlight.

"…This system really is broken."

The surviving kobolds hesitated at the edges of the field, their courage wavering. Sihara leveled his weapon at them, his voice low, wild, commanding:

"Run—" his grin widened, "—or feed me more strength."

The battlefield was silent at last. Kobold corpses littered the grounds like discarded rags, their blood soaking into the earth until even the grass seemed painted black.

Sihara stood in the middle of it all, chest heaving, bare feet sticky with gore. The spear in his hand dripped scarlet, its shaft trembling faintly from the dozens—no, hundreds—of lives it had claimed this night.

A last, pitiful whimper drew his attention. One kobold crawled backward on shattered legs.

Sihara stepped forward.

SHHHK—!

One merciless thrust ended its life.

The menu exploded in golden radiance.

[Combat Summary Complete]

• Kobolds Slain: 486

• Kobold Chieftains Slain: 4

[Level Up!]

→ Current Level: 14

[Status Points +20]

[Weapon Skill Points +15]

The floating interface shimmered, casting an ethereal glow over his blood-soaked figure. Sihara tilted his head, eyes locking on the new numbers.

"…Level 14 already. And that many points…" His grin widened further, wild and unrestrained.

He tapped the weapon branch. The skill tree bloomed open, vast and gleaming.

[Spear Technique – Rank 15th (Master Lv. 80)]

Next Evolution Threshold: Breakthrough Ready

[Passive Skills Updated:]

Spear Wielder Lv. 20 → Bonus Damage +45%, Attack Speed +25%

Flow Motion (Unlocked) → Stamina drain reduced 30%, Combo multiplier active

[New Active Skill Unlocked:]

Lion Strike Lv. 1 – A brutal spear thrust imbued with the ferocity of a lion. High piercing power, chance to stun.

The Lion Strike node flickered like a predator's eye. He pumped all 15 weapon skill points into it.

[Lion Strike Lv. 14] – Damage Scaling: +1400%. Guaranteed Stun on weaker foes. Reduced Cooldown.

A phantom roar echoed through his veins, a beast's fury fusing with his body. The spear pulsed faintly in his hands, almost alive, craving to unleash its newfound might.

Sihara exhaled sharply, exhilarated. "…Perfect."

He flicked to the status panel. Rows of numbers gleamed before him, waiting.

[Status Panel]

Level: 14

HP: 650 / 650

MP: 220 / 220

Strength: 32

Agility: 27

Vitality: 28

Intelligence: 19

Dexterity: 26

Luck: 15

Unallocated Status Points: 20

He cracked his neck, muttering to himself.

"…Strength first. More raw power for the spear."

+10 went straight into Strength.

"…Agility too. Faster steps, faster kills."

+5 poured into Agility.

He eyed Vitality, jaw tightening. "…Some endurance. Just in case a boss hits harder than I expect."

+5 into Vitality.

The menu pulsed.

[Updated Status Panel]

Level: 14

HP: 750 / 750

MP: 220 / 220

Strength: 42

Agility: 32

Vitality: 33

Intelligence: 19

Dexterity: 26

Luck: 15

The moment the points locked in, a surge of heat coursed through him. Muscles tightened, breath steadied, vision sharpened. His entire being felt reborn—faster, stronger, harder to kill.

Sihara twirled his spear once. Its whistle cut through the silence like a blade.

"…This system really is broken." His voice was quiet now, reverent, yet wild exhilaration burned beneath.

The glowing Evolution Threshold pulsed, waiting. But Sihara smirked, turning toward the shadowed forest.

"Grandma… this time," he muttered, eyes tracing the stars, "this time I will be stronger."

The moon gazed down upon him. The mansion loomed behind, its windows glowing faintly, as if it too had borne witness to the massacre.

A faint crunch of dirt reached Sihara's ears. He froze, scanning the land behind him, then spun around.

From the shadows of the hill in front of the house, a formation emerged. An army. Undead—green, pale flesh hanging in tatters, clad in cracked, purple-black armor. Their eyes glowed blood-red, fixed entirely on him.

A jolt of shock ran through Sihara's spine. His grip tightened on the spear.

"Huh… what are those?" he whispered, the wind whistling past his ears. A brief silence hung over the field.

Thunk… hisss…

He spoke in his mind, eyes narrowing. Human…? No. Looking at their faces… pale green skin… they're already dead… Don't tell me…

A spear-wielding undead moved slightly ahead of the others, taking point.

"AN UNDEAD!" he shouted, his voice cracking with shock.

Before he could react further, the spear whipped through the air—shing!—aimed straight at him. Sihara twisted, the weapon whistling past his shoulder.

Clang! The spear grazed the ground where he had stood, kicking up dust and pebbles.

One of the undead dashed forward, its gait jerky, unnatural—thud-thud… thud-thud…—closing the distance with terrifying speed. Sihara rose, readying himself, but the creature lunged.

BAM!

A heavy kick slammed into his chest. Air whooshed from his lungs as he was sent sprawling backward, the grass flattening beneath him—whump! The undead snatched the spear, lifting it like it weighed nothing.

Galia, hovering nearby, stiffened. A harsh, metallic KRANG! echoed from the collision of Sihara's discarded spear with the stone-strewn ground. She flared her wings in alarm, peering toward the front of the house.

The undead army's collective hiss—sssaaa-hhh… sssaaa-hhh…—rose across the hill, a chilling, otherworldly cadence. Each head turned, blood-red eyes fixed, unblinking, unrelenting.

Sihara's jaw tightened. His heart pounded like a drum—thump-thump… thump-thump…—as he scrambled to his feet, mind racing.

"…This isn't going to be easy," he muttered, gripping the dirt beneath him for balance. The spear was now in the hands of an enemy that seemed stronger, faster, and far deadlier than anything he had faced before.

Galia's eyes narrowed, shimmering in the dim light as she watched him, thinking to let him train.

The spear-wielding undead charged toward him. Sihara squared his stance, ready.

The spear-wielding undead surged forward, each step rattling with unnatural cadence—thud-thud… thud-thud…—closing in on Sihara. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon, body coiled like a spring.

As the first strike came—a brutal overhead stab—Sihara twisted sharply, the spear slicing past him with a whistling shhhhk! He rolled, barely avoiding the jagged edge of its rusted weapon, and tried to disappear into the invisible shroud of his skill.

For a heartbeat, he vanished from sight, a faint shimmer left where he had been. He smirked. This will slow it down…

But the undead's blood-red eyes didn't waver. A low hiss—sssaaa-hhh—echoed through the clearing, and it swung, slashing the air where Sihara's shadow lingered. The spear grazed his shoulder.

BAM!

A jolt of pain shot through him, and the cheat menu immediately chimed:

[Level Up – Physical Resistance +1]

Sihara gritted his teeth, staggering back, but the damage only fueled his determination. He tossed a small, rubber-like canister to the ground. Smoke bomb… three seconds of cover!

Pffft! A cloud of gray smoke erupted, obscuring him from view. He repositioned, thinking to flank the undead.

But the creature's senses were unnatural. Its clawed hands sliced through the smoke—swish-swish!—tracing his faint heat and residual mana. Sihara barely ducked in time, sparks flying where the attack scorched a tree trunk behind him.

He lunged from the cover of smoke, spear angled for a counterattack. The undead anticipated the move, parrying with a sharp clang! that vibrated through his arms. Sihara stumbled, the momentum throwing him off balance.

Thunk! Another blow struck his side. Pain flared, and again the system announced:

[Level Up – Physical Resistance +1]

Breathing heavily, Sihara backed away, eyes locked on his opponent. The invisible skill had failed to give him true advantage—this thing could sense him. Every strike he attempted was met with uncanny precision.

He gritted his teeth, spinning the spear in his hands, sweat and blood mixing on his skin. It's stronger… faster… and it can read me…

He pressed the smoke canister again, using his final charge. Pffft! Pffft! Another burst of haze enveloped the field, and he used the moment to roll behind the undead, striking from an angle it hadn't predicted.

Shhhhk! The spear grazed its side, tearing through armor. It let out a guttural hiss—HSSSS! HSSSS!—turning sharply. Sihara stumbled from a retaliatory slash, feeling the edges of its claws tear through his shoulder.

The system chimed once more:

[Level Up – Physical Resistance +1]

He gritted his teeth through the pain, adrenaline surging. Invisible skill, smoke bombs… nothing was enough to blind or slow this monster. Yet each strike, each dodge, each hit he endured was teaching him, hardening his body, honing his instincts.

Sihara's gaze hardened, sweat dripping down his brow, chest heaving. I have to push… I can't let this thing dictate the fight.

He raised the spear again, ready to counter the next strike, feeling the system's subtle hum beneath his fingertips, as if it were whispering: Learn. Adapt. Survive.

Sihara's breath came in ragged bursts. His mana was almost depleted, each swing of his spear draining the last threads of energy from his body. The undead snarled, its red eyes burning like coals, its tattered armor scraping as it lunged forward.

"You… won't take me down that easily!" Sihara gritted through clenched teeth, spinning the spear in a wide arc to deflect the first strike. CLANG! Metal on metal rang through the air.

The undead growled, jerking its spear to the side in a vicious counterattack—SWOOSH!—but Sihara ducked and rolled, springing to his feet. "Heh… you're faster than I thought. Not bad!"

THUD! THUD! The ground shook under the undead's unnatural steps. Sihara feinted left, then thrust right—SHINK!—catching the creature's shoulder. "Hah! Not fast enough!" he taunted, pressing forward.

The undead staggered but recovered instantly, swinging its spear in a brutal downward arc. Sihara barely parried, sparks flying—CRAAANG!—and spun backward, eyes narrowing. "I'll need… everything I've got."

He surged forward, spear spinning in a deadly dance—SWOOSH-SHINK-SHINK!—each strike aimed at chinks in the undead's armor. The creature hissed and snapped, its counterattacks unrelenting. "You… think your tricks will save you?" it rasped.

Sihara's mana flared, the invisible skill around him shimmering faintly. He vanished for a moment in a smoke-like ripple—POOF!—then reappeared behind the undead, jabbing at its ribs. SHINK!

The undead turned almost instantly, sensing him, and swung its spear in a vicious arc. CLANG! Their weapons collided with a screech of metal. Sihara stumbled but gritted his teeth. "I'm not done yet!" he roared.

The battle raged on, a whirlwind of thrusts, spins, and feints. Sihara ducked, blocked, and struck again—SWISH!—feeling the flow of the fight sharpen his instincts. "You… you'll have to kill me first!"

Finally, he saw an opening. The undead overextended, and Sihara lunged, gathering every ounce of strength and mana. His spear hummed with power—SHHHNK!—and he drove it forward in a perfect thrust aimed for the undead's head.

The creature froze for a heartbeat, red eyes widening. "No…!" it rasped, just as Sihara twisted his spear in a finishing move—SHINK-SHINK!—impaling it clean through the chest and sending it sprawling backward, armor cracking and body hitting the ground with a sickening THUD!

Victory should have been his. His chest heaved, sweat and blood mingling as he raised the spear, eyes glowing with exhausted triumph.

SHING! A sudden arrow struck his hand, knocking the spear aside. Sihara hissed, staggering back as another undead, hidden in the shadows, swung a jagged sword across his back. Pain flared, but his barrier skill—leveled from previous fights—absorbed the worst of it.

He was thrown to the ground again, sliding across the grass—WHUMP!—but he gritted his teeth. Now downed, he took a moment to focus, channeling mana into stone magic. With a low chant, a short wall of jagged rocks erupted from the earth—KRUMBLE!—forming cover against the incoming arrows.

The world went silent for a heartbeat. Then, faintly—like a whisper inside his skull—the system stirred.

"Detected player death… launching reviving."

"Detected tissue damage… launching regeneration."

A cascade of soft tones followed, each word carving itself into his consciousness.

New skill unlocked:

Mage skill acquired: Fire Element → Fireball (branch unlocked).Gun skill acquired.Blade skill acquired.Bow skill acquired.

Secret Mission Reward:Death (Second Time).

Cheat Skill Upgrade: Defeat enemy → Gain skill.

Achievement Unlocked:

Death (Second Time): Reward → Appraisal Eyes.

The undead circled his corpse, their eyes glowing faintly red in the dark. They lingered for a moment, watching the blood pool beneath him… then slowly turned, abandoning the body among the grass.

And then—

A warmth surged through Sihara's body, starting from his wounds, spreading outward like wildfire. His torn muscles stitched together, blood flowed anew, and shattered bones realigned with sickening cracks. His skin reformed, leaving no trace of the carnage. It was as if the universe itself had bent to restore him.

His eyes snapped open.

A blinding golden light radiated from his body, shimmering across the battlefield. The rays danced on the broken stones and bloodied grass, casting long, defiant shadows. The undead stopped in their tracks, turning slowly toward the glow.

Sihara pushed himself up, chest heaving—but no longer from exhaustion. Strength surged in him, deeper, sharper, limitless. He adjusted his glasses with one hand, middle finger nudging them back into place. The faint glint across the lenses caught the golden aura.

"…Hah…" His voice was low, edged with ferocity. "Just like according to my plan."

The menu opened before him in a translucent flash of blue light. Notifications stacked, one after another, and a flashing icon pulsed in the corner—Mail Reward: +100 Points for surviving a second death.

"Huh. Looks like the blessing skill really works."

As his eyes scanned, a new option appeared—Blessing Job Tree. Paths glimmered before him: Knight, Ranger, Assassin, Mage, Support… and below them, obscured in smoke, one unknown class marked only by a question mark.

Before he could dwell, the sword-wielding undead charged, armor rattling. —CLIIING—SSHHKKK—TKKTKKTK! Sparks sprayed as its jagged blade met his spear mid-swing.

"Heh… trying to attack while I'm distracted? Really cunning, aren't you," Sihara muttered, locking the clash with one hand—while his other hand flicked through the glowing menu.

+30 points allocated → Agility.

The world warped. His body blurred. His movements shredded through space itself.

—WHOOM—WHOOM—WHOOM-WHOOM—

In a blink, he vanished from in front of the undead and reappeared at its side. His spear carved a golden arc through the air—KRSHHHHHNG!—severing the arm that held the sword. The undead screeched, staggering back, its severed limb writhing before crumbling into ash.

It lunged with its remaining fist, aiming for his face. But Sihara caught the punch effortlessly, his grip ironclad.

"Bad move."

He opened his menu again—+5 points allocated → Flame Magic.

The system chimed: New branch unlocked: Combustion.

At once, fire sparked between his fingers. Heat swelled, swirling into a sphere of roaring flame. He drove the burning spell into the undead's chest.

"Combust."

—FWOOM!!!—

The creature erupted into shrieking fire, its armor glowing red-hot, its body flailing as the blaze devoured it from the inside out.

"AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHH!!!"

The scream tore through the night until, at last, the undead crumbled to ash, leaving nothing but charred fragments and smoke curling skyward.

Sihara exhaled sharply, his eyes glowing faint gold. He turned toward the next one.

"…Now," he murmured, spear lowering, firelight still flickering at his fingertips. "Who's next?"

The last flames still flickered on the grass when the sound of heavy steps echoed—THUD… THUD… THUD…

The spear-wielding undead advanced, eyes glowing faintly red, its weapon dragging across the dirt with a screech. It lifted the weapon and leveled the spearpoint toward Sihara.

Sihara tilted his head, adjusting his glasses again.

"Heeeh… you, huh? Well then—let's see what you've got."

The system whispered inside his skull.

New skill acquired: Monster Skill → Hrafnfang.

A smirk tugged at Sihara's lips. "Oh, now that sounds interesting."

He reached down, snatched the discarded sword from the ground, and with one fluid motion, spun it in his hand. The undead let out a guttural roar and charged, spear cutting through the air with deadly precision.

—CLANG!— Sparks exploded as blade met spear.

—CLANG-CLANG!— They exchanged furious blows, the undead lunging and thrusting while Sihara weaved between every strike, steel singing with each parry.

The ground quaked beneath their footwork, dirt scattering as each impact sent shockwaves around them.

"Hah! Is that all your undead arms can do?" Sihara barked, twisting his wrist to shove the spear aside. He countered with a swift slash—SHHHK!—sparking off the undead's chestplate.

The undead snarled, sweeping low for his legs—Sihara vaulted backward, flipping once before landing lightly, his golden aura shimmering in the night.

—TWANG!— An arrow whistled through the air.

Sihara's eyes flicked sideways. His hand shot out—SNAP!—catching the arrow mid-flight. In the same motion, he spun and jammed it downward into the undead's knee.

—KRSHK!—

The spear-wielder dropped with one knee to the ground, letting out a guttural roar. It tried to stab upward in desperation, but Sihara was faster—he kicked forward, pinning the tip of the spear to the earth beneath his boot.

"Stay down."

The undead's eyes burned brighter with fury. With an ear-splitting snarl, it forced its weapon upward, strength surging unnaturally. The spear rose, shaking the ground as if resisting gravity itself.

But when the creature looked up—

Sihara was no longer there.

High above, framed against the night sky, Sihara descended, golden light trailing behind him. His stolen blade hummed with power, his glasses gleaming with reflected fire.

"Skill—HRAFNFANG!"

The sword howled as black-red energy surged along the edge, forming the shape of spectral ravens. With a single, merciless swing—

—KRSSSHHHH!!!—

The blade cleaved through the spear, shearing it in half, then tore clean through the undead's head and belly in one unstoppable arc. The energy ripped outward, feathers of shadow scattering as the creature's body split.

The spear-wielder staggered, its weapon falling in pieces. Its eyes flickered once… twice… then its body collapsed to the earth with a final, shuddering THUD.

Sihara landed smoothly, blade still humming with the after-echo of Hrafnfang. He flicked the blood away with a sharp motion, the golden aura around him pulsing stronger than ever.

The smoke still hung heavy in the air, embers drifting like fireflies.

Sihara's eyes locked on the caster.

"Your turn." His voice cut sharp.

—WHOOM!—

He kicked off the ground, storming forward with impossible speed. Each step cracked the dirt beneath him, his golden aura blazing brighter with every dash.

The caster snarled, raising both hands. The swarm of magic arrows around him ignited and fired in a deadly barrage—FWIP-FWIP-FWIP!

Sihara weaved through them, body blurring left and right, his sword flashing as he deflected the closest bolts. Every missed arrow exploded behind him in bursts of fire and light, chasing his heels.

"You can't hit me!" Sihara roared, closing the distance.

The caster growled, pouring mana into a single devastating spell. A massive magic arrow formed in front of him, glowing so bright it painted the night sky in white-blue light. The air trembled around it.

"Perish!" the undead caster screeched, hurling the giant arrow straight at him.

Sihara's lips curled into a grin. "Too slow—!"

He yanked the last dagger he had snatched from the archer earlier. Golden mana surged into his arm as he cocked it back.

—FWOOSH!—

He threw.

The dagger tore through the air like a thunderbolt, crashing into the giant magic arrow before it reached him.

—KRRRSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!—

The collision detonated in a blinding explosion. Fire and light erupted outward, shaking the earth and tearing apart trees in a deafening shockwave. The undead caster screeched, the blast ripping through his body.

Sihara shielded his face with his arm, his glasses catching the glint of the inferno. He lowered his arm slowly, golden aura shimmering stronger than ever.

"…And that," he muttered, eyes burning as he stepped through the flames, "is how you die."

The smoke ripped apart with a deafening BOOM, fire rolling across the battlefield.

Through the blaze, the undead caster staggered out, its robes half-burned away, charred bones jutting through blackened flesh.

"Still alive huh…" it rasped, magic flickering weakly in its ruined hands.

Sihara walked forward, step by step, golden aura gleaming like a living flame. His glasses glinted as he tilted his head, calm but merciless.

"You're still standing? Persistent corpse."

The caster snarled, summoning the last fragments of mana, a dim arrow forming in his palm. But before it could launch—

—WHOOSH!—

Sihara surged forward like lightning. His blade whistled through the air, straight and clean.

—SHHNNNK!—

The sword pierced directly into the caster's skull, driving through the cracked helm of bone. The undead froze, its body twitching violently as the glow in its eyes sputtered.

"…End of the line." Sihara twisted the blade, a sharp CRACK echoing as the skull split. The light in the caster's eyes went dark, and its body collapsed lifelessly into the dirt.

Sihara yanked the sword free, golden sparks dripping from the edge. He exhaled slowly, flicking the blood away before leveling his gaze at the last standing foe.

The battlefield grew silent. Four corpses lay scattered across the torn ground—spear, archer, caster, all reduced to lifeless husks under Sihara's relentless assault. His golden aura burned brighter with every breath, power rippling in the air around him.

But the silence did not last.

THOOM.

The earth trembled under a heavy step.

Then another.

THOOM. THOOM.

From the far side of the clearing, the last figure advanced. Clad in broken, blackened armor, towering above the rest, the undead commander dragged behind him a massive two-handed sword that screeched as it scraped against stone. His red eyes glowed fiercer inside of his three horned helm than the others combined, burning with a wrath that seemed almost… aware.

Sihara straightened, spinning his blade once before resting it at his side.

"So… the big boss finally shows himself."

The commander stopped a few paces away, the weight of his presence pressing down like a storm. His voice was a guttural growl, deeper than the others, but laced with eerie clarity.

"You've slain my soldiers… human. But against me, you are nothing."

Sihara smirked, raising his glasses with one finger, the golden light in his eyes unyielding.

"Hah… we'll see about that."

The commander roared, lifting his colossal blade with unnatural speed, and the ground shook as he charged—

CLAAAANG!

Steel met steel in an earth-shaking clash, sparks scattering into the night as the final battle began.

Both blades screamed against each other—KRRRANG! CLAAAANG!—as the shockwaves split the grass and rattled the air. The commander swung his colossal weapon in arcs so heavy they carved grooves into the earth, but Sihara's golden aura flickered with each dodge and parry, keeping pace with impossible precision.

Steel clashed again. Sparks burst, dancing like fireflies in the dark.

"Haaagh!" Sihara twisted, using the force of a deflection to propel himself upward. In a blur, he vaulted over the commander's shoulder and snatched hold of the left horn on the three-horned helm. With a roar, he yanked down hard, slamming the towering undead's head into the dirt. BOOOM! The ground cracked under the impact.

"Got you!" Sihara snarled, raising his blade high and driving it down toward the helm.

But the commander wasn't finished. With monstrous strength, his free hand shot up—KRRSHHH!—catching his own greatsword and swinging it sideways at point-blank range. The enormous blade shrieked toward Sihara's ribs.

"—Tch!" Sihara wrenched his sword into position just in time. The weapons collided inches from his body, the shock blasting him backward. He let go of the horn and flipped mid-air, landing hard but steady with a roll.

Sihara circled warily, boots scraping across the broken ground. The commander raised his greatsword high, crimson light seeping from the cracks in his armor. Then, with a guttural roar, he slashed the blade through the air itself—

FWOOOOOM—SHHHHRRAAAGHHHH!

The wind howled, compressed into a cutting edge that screamed across the battlefield.

Sihara's instincts flared. His golden aura surged as he dove sideways—KRAAASH! A nearby tree was sheared in half, toppling with a thunderous crash, splinters raining around him.

"Hhh… he's really strong…" Sihara muttered, glasses glinting as he smirked despite the danger. His breath steadied, and his grin widened. "But that just makes this more fascinating."

The commander's form began to convulse, armor grinding against itself. Cracks split across his blackened plates as horns erupted longer and jagged, red veins glowing across his body. His voice deepened into an inhuman roar as his greatsword blazed crimson.

"WWAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!"

The ground trembled beneath the berserk transformation. His swings grew faster, heavier, wild enough to shatter boulders on impact.

Sihara squinted, his golden aura flaring brighter in response.

"Heeh… you wanna try that trick too? Very well… then let's see who breaks first."

He burst forward, sprinting with speed that tore streaks of gold through the night air. The commander swung—KRRRSHHHH!—Sihara ducked, sparks flying as the colossal blade scraped over his head. Another swing came—KRRANG!—and Sihara spun inside the arc, his own sword slashing a golden streak across the commander's torso.

The undead howled but pressed harder, their blades colliding again and again, the shockwaves rattling the clearing like thunder.

"HYAAAAAAAH!" Sihara roared, his strikes a storm, faster, sharper—

"GGRRRAAAAAAAH!" the commander answered, his berserk strength forcing every clash to explode like cannon fire.

Steel against steel. Light against blood-red fury.

Sihara leapt, vaulting high into the air. For a heartbeat, the battlefield froze—the commander glaring up, sword raised, red glow cutting through the shadows.

And Sihara's voice cut the silence, low and sharp:

"Let's end this—!"

Sihara roared, diving down from above. The commander's colossal blade swung upward to meet him—

—SLIIING!

In a blinding flash, Sihara's strike cleaved the enormous sword clean in half. Metal screamed, shards flying through the air. But the impact was too much—his own blade shattered with it, bursting into fragments of golden light.

"Tch—!" Sihara landed with nothing in his hand, yet his glare was unshaken. He lunged forward, planting a savage kick right into the commander's face. CRAAK! Bone splintered beneath the helm as the undead's head snapped back, eyes clamping shut from the force.

"Hrrrraaaaghhh!!!" the commander staggered, enraged.

Sihara didn't wait. He flipped backward into the air, body silhouetted against the pale full moon hanging over the battlefield.

The commander's eyes snapped open, glowing crimson—only to see the impossible.

In Sihara's grip was a bow of pure golden energy, and nocked upon it was not an arrow—

—but his spear itself, gleaming brighter than the dawn.

He pulled the string taut, aura blazing around him like fire.

"Power…!" His voice shook the air, every word heavy with defiance.

"SHOOOOOOT!!!"

He exhaled and released.

—FWOOOOM!

The spear-arrow streaked like a comet, tearing through the night. The commander had no time to move. The shot struck his helm dead-center—

KRRRSHHHH—BOOOOOOOM!!!

His skull exploded, fragments of bone and helm scattering as the force ripped through his body. The massive frame convulsed once before collapsing into the dirt with a thunderous crash.

The clearing fell silent.

SYSTEM:

Raid has been terminated.

—Area Cleared.

The horizon shimmered, and the first light of sunrise spilled across the battlefield. Golden rays pushed away the lingering mist, touching the broken trees and blood-soaked ground.

Sihara stood amidst it all, chest heaving, his glasses catching the newborn sun.

The system flickered before his eyes:

Status Window

Level: 80Remaining Points: 136Strength: 890Agility: 950Intelligence: 840Endurance: 870Vitality: 910

His lips curved into a tired, but satisfied smirk.

"…Hah… looks like I'm still alive."

The battlefield's silence lingered until dawn broke fully. Birds began to stir, their calls echoing faintly through the forest.

By the time the first rays of sunlight touched the village, the chaos of the night felt like a distant storm.

The door to a small wooden house creaked open. Galia stepped outside, her silver hair catching the morning glow. She stretched lightly, eyes half-lidded from sleep—until she froze.

There, standing in the golden light of sunrise, was Sihara. His glasses glimmered brilliantly, reflecting the sun like a polished mirror. Over his shoulder, he carried the carcass of a freshly hunted stag, its antlers swaying gently as he approached.

For a moment, he seemed more myth than man—silhouetted against the dawn, his figure radiated quiet strength.

Sihara adjusted his grip on the stag and gave a small, tired but warm smile.

"…I'm home. Let me cook some breakfast."

Hearing that, Galia blinked, then her lips curved into a gentle smile, her voice soft as the morning breeze.

"Hmm… welcome home."

The tension of the long night melted away in that single exchange.

end of chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: “The Fated Stars”