The sound of steel cutting through air echoed in the training hall. Shhhk—shhhk. Zen's arms ached, his palms raw, but still he swung the blade.
If one wondered how he had ended up here, the answer lay at the start of his third day.
Zen had woken slowly, stretching and yawning as sunlight spilled across his room. The warmth of the morning was gentle, the weather perfect — a day that seemed to invite progress. Pulling the curtains wide, he felt a quiet determination settle in his chest.
The system had spoken.
"Sub‑Quest: Perform 1000 horizontal and vertical strikes. Explore shadow affinity. Reward: Foundation growth."
Foundation. The word lingered in his mind. Without it, he would crumble. With it, he could rise.
So he had walked to the training grounds near the town hall, where the clang of weapons and the shouts of mercenaries filled the air. There, he began.
The system guided him, correcting his posture, urging him to relax his shoulders, to breathe, to let the blade flow rather than force it. At first, the constant reminders grated on him. But he clenched his jaw and endured. Without pain, there is no progress. Without effort, no one will hand you power.
Sweat dripped from his brow. His grip slipped. Blood welled from his blistered hands, staining the hilt. Still, he swung. Again. And again. Until at last—
"Sub‑Quest Complete. 1000 strikes achieved."
The blade fell from his hands as he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. His muscles screamed, his body trembled, but his heart… his heart felt light. For the first time in both lives, he felt he had earned something.
But the training was not yet over.
Cross‑legged, he steadied his breath and closed his eyes. Mana. Thin, fragile, but present. He reached for it, coaxing it to flow. Slowly, shadows stirred around him, stretching and twisting into shapes. A blade. A serpent. A hand. He pushed further, extending his reach until the darkness stretched nearly a hundred meters before snapping back. His reserves were shallow, but the potential was undeniable.
When he finally opened his eyes, night had fallen. Time had slipped away unnoticed.
Stepping outside, the cool wind greeted him, carrying the scent of earth and stone. He tilted his head back. Above, the full moon hung in its silver glory, vast and unyielding.
For a moment, he was lost in its radiance. He did not notice the faint glow at his neck, where the tattoo etched into his skin pulsed in quiet resonance with the moonlight.
He only remembered one thing — the first presence that had greeted him in this world.
The moon.
" System Update:"
Name: Zen Lawkey
Age: 14
Status: Reincarnated
Element: Shadow
Core Skill: Moonblade
Attributes:
Strength: 12 → 13
Agility: 15 → 16
Intelligence: 16
Charm: 8
Mana: 50→ 100
Stamina: 5 → 8
"New Skill Unlocked:"
Sword Mastery (Novice) — Basic proficiency with blades. Increases efficiency .
Zen stared at the glowing panel, his chest still rising and falling with exhaustion. His lips curved into a faint smile.
The foundation was being laid.
"Steel and shadow — both would carry him forward."