Belle Silmaris stood frozen in the doorway, the breakfast tray trembling in her hands. Her clear blue eyes, trained to assess combat situations in split seconds, struggled to process what she was seeing.
Ciel. Standing. Not lying in bed. Not curled up in defeat. Not staring at nothing with those hollow golden eyes that had haunted her for nine years.
He was standing in the center of his room, posture straight, feet planted, looking directly at her with a focus and clarity she thought she'd never see again.
And his position. The way he'd cleared space on the floor. The determined set of his jaw.
He'd been about to exercise.
Something cracked in Belle's chest. A dam she'd been carefully maintaining for nearly a decade suddenly threatening to burst. Her vision blurred slightly as moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes.
Nine years. Nine years of bringing him food, of trying to coax him out of bed, of suggesting training, of pleading with him to just try. Nine years of watching a prodigy waste away into nothing while she stood helpless, unable to reach him no matter how hard she tried.
And now, without any prompting, without any push from her or Liam or anyone, he was doing it on his own.
Questions flooded her mind. Why now? What changed? What happened to make him suddenly decide to move, to train, to try?
But she swallowed them all.
Because if she questioned him, if she demanded explanations, if she made this moment about her confusion rather than his decision, she might break whatever fragile resolve had brought him to his feet. She might remind him of all the reasons he'd spent nine years in darkness. She might watch that clarity fade from his eyes and see him retreat back into his bed.
She couldn't risk it.
So Belle Silmaris, one of Dale Silver's Ten Fingers, ranked among the top fifty strongest in the faction, did the hardest thing she'd ever done.
She smiled.
Genuine. Warm. Supportive. Pushing down every question and concern and desperate need to understand.
"Young master," she said, her voice remarkably steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "You should eat first. Training on an empty stomach won't do you any good."
Ciel's mouth opened, clearly about to protest. She could see the argument forming in his eyes, the determination that wanted to dive straight into whatever he'd planned.
But then something shifted in his expression. Softened. He looked at her, really looked at her, and seemed to see the barely contained emotion she was trying so hard to hide.
Belle had been there. Always. When his father left. When the servants began to whisper. When the faction politics turned ugly. When he'd wanted nothing more than to disappear. She'd brought him food every day. Had sat with him even when he wouldn't respond. Had protected him from threats he didn't even know existed.
She was like his elder sister. Almost literally. His father had found her, taken her in, given her a place when she'd had nothing. The Silver family had accepted her as one of their own. She was family in every way that mattered.
And she was asking him to eat first.
Ciel's shoulders relaxed slightly. He nodded.
"Okay," he said softly. "I'll eat."
The relief that washed over Belle's face was immediate and profound. She moved into the room, setting the tray down on the side table with careful precision. Her hands had stopped trembling.
Ciel sat on the edge of his bed, and Belle handed him the plate. Fresh bread, still warm. Grilled meat seasoned with herbs. Vegetables prepared exactly how he used to like them as a child. The kitchen had indeed made something special, though Belle suspected they did that every day, hoping this would be the meal that finally reached him.
He ate slowly, deliberately, and Belle watched with barely concealed joy. He was eating without being coaxed. Without the mechanical, joyless consumption she'd witnessed for years. He was eating because he wanted to. Because he needed the fuel.
Because he was planning to do something.
Halfway through the meal, Ciel spoke. His voice was hesitant, uncertain, but clear.
"Belle, I... I want to do some exercises. Training." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I need a space. Somewhere I can move. Train properly."
Belle's heart threatened to burst. She kept her expression neutral, supportive, giving him space to continue.
"The training yards," she said immediately, her voice steady despite the emotion surging through her. "There are several private sections reserved for high-ranking members. They'll be mostly empty this time of day. You can use any of them."
Ciel nodded, relief evident in his expression. He'd expected resistance, perhaps, or questions he wasn't ready to answer. But Belle simply accepted his request, provided what he needed, and asked nothing in return.
He finished his meal in silence, and Belle cleared the tray. As she moved toward the door, she paused.
"The eastern training yard," she said. "It's the most private. Take the corridor past the library, third door on the left leads to the outer grounds. The eastern yard will be on your right."
"Thank you, Belle."
She smiled at him one more time, that same warm, supportive expression, then left.
But she didn't go far.
Ciel waited a few minutes after Belle departed, gathering his resolve. His body still felt weak, atrophied from years of neglect, but something burned in his chest. Purpose. Determination. The quest notification still hovered in the corner of his vision, waiting.
[Daily Quest: Basic Physical Training]
[100 Push-ups]
[100 Sit-ups]
[100 Squats]
[Run 10 kilometers]
[Reward: Unique Skill]
He had to complete it. Had to prove to himself that he could.
Ciel left his room, following Belle's directions. The corridors seemed impossibly bright after his self-imposed darkness. His enhanced Perception made every detail sharp, every sound clear.
He encountered staff as he moved through the estate. Maids carrying linens. Servants on various errands. Faction members going about their duties.
Every single one of them stopped. Stared. Then immediately bowed.
Deep, respectful bows. The kind reserved for high nobility. For heirs to great houses.
"Young Master Silver," they murmured, voices carrying appropriate deference.
No whispers. No mocking glances. No barely concealed contempt.
Just respect. Or perhaps fear.
Ciel didn't understand the change, but he accepted it. He had more important things to focus on.
The eastern training yard was exactly as Belle described. Private. Empty. A large open space with packed dirt ground, training equipment scattered around the perimeter, and a raised observation platform on one side where instructors typically watched their students.
Perfect.
Ciel moved to the center of the yard, his heart pounding. This was it. Time to begin.
What he didn't see was the silver-haired figure that had followed him at a distance. Belle had trailed behind, silent as a ghost, her warrior's training making her nearly invisible when she wished to be.
She climbed the raised platform, positioning herself where she could observe without being obvious. Her clear blue eyes fixed on Ciel's distant form, watching. Waiting. Ready to intervene if something went wrong, but otherwise content to simply witness.
This was his moment. His decision. She wouldn't interfere unless absolutely necessary.
Ciel dropped into position for push-ups. His form was instinctive, muscle memory from childhood training resurfacing. Hands shoulder-width apart. Back straight. Core tight.
He began.
Down. Up. His arms trembled with the effort. Nine years of atrophy making what should have been simple feel like moving mountains.
But he pushed through. One. Two. Three.
From her vantage point, Belle watched with held breath. She could see his struggle. Could see his body fighting him. But she could also see something else.
Determination.
Ciel reached ten push-ups. Twenty. His form began to break down, his body reaching limits. He collapsed to the dirt, gasping.
Belle's hand moved to the platform railing, ready to leap down, to help, to encourage.
But she stopped herself. This was his battle. His choice.
Ciel forced himself back up. Continued. Thirty. Forty. Each repetition a war against his own weakness.
He rested multiple times. His body begging him to quit. But each time, after brief recovery, he returned to position. Pushed himself further.
Fifty. Sixty. Seventy.
Belle's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She'd tried for nine years to get him to this point. Tried everything. And here he was, pushing himself beyond what should be possible, all on his own.
Eighty. Ninety.
His arms were shaking so badly they could barely support his weight. His face pressed into the dirt between repetitions. Everything about his body language screamed exhaustion.
But he kept going.
Ninety-nine. One more. Just one more.
Ciel lowered himself one final time, his arms screaming in protest. And pushed.
One hundred.
He collapsed completely, face in the dirt, body trembling with exertion.
From the platform, Belle allowed a single tear to fall. Pride and joy warring in her chest.
But Ciel wasn't done.
After several minutes of recovery, he rolled onto his back. Began sit-ups.
The torture continued. One hundred sit-ups completed through sheer stubborn will. Then squats, his legs faring better but still pushed to their absolute limit.
Belle watched it all. Every struggle. Every moment he almost quit. Every time he forced himself to continue.
Hours passed. The morning sun climbed higher. And Ciel moved to the final requirement.
Running.
He started around the perimeter track, his pace barely above a walk. His exhausted body could manage little more. But he kept moving. One foot in front of the other.
Belle counted the laps from her platform. One kilometer. Two. Three.
He walked sections when his body absolutely demanded it. But he never stopped completely. Never gave up.
Four kilometers. Five. Six.
His breathing was ragged. His legs barely functioning. Everything about him screamed that he should stop.
But he didn't.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
One more kilometer. Just one more.
Ciel pushed through the final lap on nothing but will. His body had long since given up. But something deeper kept him moving.
Ten kilometers. Complete.
He collapsed onto the grass beside the track, his chest heaving, his body utterly spent.
Belle remained on the platform, giving him space. But her heart soared. He'd done it. All of it. Every single exercise.
After long minutes, Ciel managed to drag himself to his feet. He stumbled toward the exit, his movements uncoordinated from exhaustion.
Belle descended from the platform silently, timing her movement so she'd "coincidentally" encounter him near the corridor entrance.
She rounded the corner just as he was passing, and they nearly collided.
"Young master!" Belle steadied him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her eyes took in his condition. Sweat-soaked. Dirt-covered. Trembling from exertion. "You've been training."
It wasn't a question. The evidence was obvious.
Ciel nodded, too exhausted for words.
Belle's expression softened into something warm and proud. She wanted to say so much. Wanted to tell him how incredible he'd been. How proud she was. How much this meant.
But she held back most of it. Just let her genuine emotion show in her voice.
"Today you made me happy, Ciel. Happier than I've been in nine years." She paused, her clear blue eyes meeting his golden ones. "Please don't stop. Whatever brought you to this point, hold onto it. Keep moving forward."
She didn't demand promises. Didn't ask for explanations. Just expressed her hope and stepped back.
Ciel looked at her, seeing the barely contained emotion. The hope and fear warring in her expression. The pride she was trying to contain.
He wanted to respond. Wanted to promise her he wouldn't stop. But the words wouldn't come. He was too exhausted. Too overwhelmed.
So instead, he just smiled. Small. Tired. But genuine.
Belle smiled back, understanding passing between them without words.
"Go rest," she said softly. "I'll have food brought to your room. You need to eat and recover."
Ciel nodded and continued toward his chambers, his body barely functioning but his spirit somehow lighter than it had been in years.
Belle watched him go, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart hammered with joy and hope.
He was trying. Finally, after nine years, he was trying.
Back in his room, Ciel collapsed onto his bed. Every muscle in his body screamed. He hurt in places he'd forgotten could hurt.
But beneath the pain, something else stirred.
A warmth. A sensation of growth. Of change.
He pulled up his Status, curious.
[Personal Status]
Name: Ciel Lee Silver
Aether Well: 0%
Aether Absorption: 0.9 A/s (High Zone), 0.5 A/s (Normal Zone)
Aether Core: —
Rank: 0 (Mortal)
Titles: [The Champion Deadbeat Scion]
Base Attributes
Strength: [10]
Dexterity: [11]
Vitality: [10]
Perception: [11]
Willpower: [10]
Channeling: [—]
Traits
[Genius] [Blessed Physique]
Skills and Abilities
[—]
[Free Attribute Points: 0]
His eyes widened. Every physical attribute had increased by one point. Strength, Dexterity, and Vitality had all gone from nine to ten. Dexterity and Perception, which he'd already boosted once, had climbed to eleven.
Training actually increased stats naturally. The System rewarded effort with growth.
Happiness surged through him despite his exhaustion. He was getting stronger. Measurably, quantifiably stronger.
But that wasn't all.
Ding.
The sound rang through his consciousness, sharp and clear.
[Quest Complete: Daily Quest - Basic Physical Training]
[Congratulations! You have completed all required exercises]
[100 Push-ups: Complete]
[100 Sit-ups: Complete]
[100 Squats: Complete]
[Run 10 kilometers: Complete]
[Reward: Unique Skill Unlocked]
[You have acquired: Analyze]
Ciel stared at the notification, his exhausted mind struggling to process. A Unique Skill. He'd actually earned a Unique Skill.
One that only he possessed. One that couldn't be replicated or taught. Power beyond conventional understanding, granted through nothing more than dedication and effort.
His golden eyes fixed on the skill name, burning with curiosity despite his exhaustion.
Analyze.
What did it do? What kind of power had he just unlocked?
But his body was shutting down, demanding rest after the abuse he'd put it through. His eyes grew heavy despite his desire to investigate further.
Ciel Lee Silver fell into deep, dreamless sleep, his first day of training complete, a Unique Skill waiting to be discovered, and the first real hope he'd felt in nine years warming his chest like embers that refused to die.