After finishing his meal, Raindirk wasted no time. He continued training, seizing every moment to get stronger—even just a little. He practiced until his body screamed in exhaustion, the world outside the training room forgotten. Only when the clock struck midnight did he finally stop, drenched in sweat and trembling.
He stepped out of the training room and reclaimed his chip, his body heavy but his heart light. The night air bit against his skin as he found a secluded alley near the Awakeners Hall. It wasn't comfortable, but it was quiet—and after the day he had, that was enough. He sat down, leaned against the cold wall, and let sleep take him.
Next morning.
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
Ding. Body Recovered and Underwent Strengthening:
Strength +1
Vitality +1
Raindirk's eyes shot open. A gentle warmth spread through his body, waves of energy washing over his tired muscles. It was like his blood itself was humming with power.
"My talent's only Tier 1," he muttered, clenching his fist as the sensation faded, "but this… this feels overpowered."
The excitement bubbling in his chest erased all trace of drowsiness. After tidying himself, he marched straight back to the Awakeners Hall. He wanted—no, needed—to strengthen himself before stepping into the wilderness.
When he arrived, he opened his Status Panel, the faint shimmer of blue light reflecting off his determined eyes.
Name: Raindirk De Selvera
Bloodline: Heaven Devourer
Ability Type: Dual – Auxiliary and Mystic
Realm: Neo Apprentice Awakener
Kill Points: 0
Status:
Strength – 6
Agility – 6
Vitality – 4
Mind – 4
Mana – 5
(Average adult male: 5)
Abilities:
Trainer (Tier 1 – Auxiliary) – Training self or others increases growth rate by 2× during the session.
Serpent Devour (Mystic) – Devour the body of a defeated enemy to inherit one of their characteristics.
Art: Basic Fist Art (Intermediate)
Skill: Basic Fist Mastery (Lvl 3 – 45%)
Raindirk stared at the panel, taking in every word. His stats were growing, his body stronger, his path clearer. His lips curved into a faint smile.
"So even my Arts and Skills are projected now, huh? Convenient," he said softly, marveling again at this mysterious system.
But he didn't dwell on it long. Time spent thinking was time not training. He went straight to the reception desk, requested his training room, and slipped his chip into the socket. The familiar hologram of the burly AI instructor flickered to life.
"Welcome back," the AI greeted in its deep synthetic voice. "Would you like to continue the demonstration, or inquire about something?"
"I want to understand something," Raindirk said, arms crossed. "How do you classify mastery levels for an Art? And where am I currently?"
The AI nodded. "There are four levels of mastery for all combat Arts," it explained, its tone precise and mechanical.
Entry: Learns superficial knowledge and postures of the Art.
Intermediate: Can instinctively react with proper movement for given situations.
Master: Has complete control of movements and can integrate the Art fluidly into battle.
Perfection: Perfects execution and has a chance to grasp the intent of the Art depending on one's compatibility.
"As of now," the AI continued, "you are at the Intermediate level. You no longer rely on rigid postures or mechanical movement—you respond with instinct. That is the mark of true familiarity."
Raindirk's brow lifted slightly. "So my system measures it the same way society does," he murmured under his breath. "Good to know."
"Thanks," he said aloud. "Let's start training."
"Yes," the AI replied, "but before we begin, I have a suggestion. Since you've reached Intermediate level, you may either continue following my demonstrations—or engage in Shadow Sparring."
Raindirk tilted his head. "Shadow Sparring? What's that?"
"Shadow Sparring is a simulated battle. Since I am not a tangible entity, the experience is similar to performing shadow boxing—only the movements you face are data constructs that analyze your actions and target your weaknesses."
Raindirk's eyes lit up. "That sounds perfect. Let's do it."
"Confirmed. Commencing Battle Mode."
The AI's posture shifted instantly, stance widening as its transparent form flickered into motion.
"Three… two… one… Start!"
The AI's movements were precise and blindingly fast, darting forward in a flawless execution of the Basic Fist Art. Its punch traced a perfect line toward Raindirk's face, stopping just a few centimeters short—no wind, no pressure, but the visual alone forced his instincts to react.
He twisted his body awkwardly to the right, narrowly avoiding the strike. The AI immediately followed with a backfist, forcing him to stumble back. No impact, no pain, but Raindirk knew—had that been a real opponent, he'd have been hit squarely.
Training Assessment: Missed Evasion. Form unstable.
Instead of frustration, excitement burned in his eyes.
"This is it," he whispered. "This is exactly what I need."
Each movement of the AI was like facing his own reflection, only sharper—faster, cleaner. It predicted his reactions, exposed every gap in his stance, every hesitation in his breathing.
And Raindirk adapted.
Again and again, he moved—punching, ducking, weaving through holographic strikes that never touched him but demanded real effort to evade. His heart pounded as if he were truly fighting, sweat dripping from his chin as the simulation repeated its patterns.
Hours passed.
Every movement grew smoother, every dodge tighter.
At first, system notifications appeared every thirty minutes.
Then every fifteen.
Then every ten.
Ding. Self Training: Basic Fist Art.
Skill: Basic Fist Mastery (Lvl 4) – 52.5%.
Raindirk grinned, wiping sweat from his chin.
"Level four already, huh?" he murmured, panting. But the next line that appeared almost made him laugh aloud.
Art: Basic Fist Art – Master.
He blinked at the glowing text, his breath steadying slowly.
"Master level... in just two days?" He exhaled in disbelief. "Guess I'm improving faster than I thought."
By his count, he had only spent around twelve and a half hours training in total—six hours from yesterday, and six and a half today. The rest of his free time still remained. And he intended to use every second.
He didn't know how he compared to the geniuses of this world—he had no one to compare himself with. But that didn't matter. The system showed progress, and progress was all he needed.
Raindirk glanced down at his trembling fists, the muscles in his forearms tight and alive. The AI instructor stood silently before him, waiting for his command to begin another session.
He looked up, eyes steady.
"Let's continue."