WebNovels

Common Frontline

King_Arthur_5434
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Title: Common Frontline In a world where every twenty-year-old stands before the Awakening Spire and is granted a class that defines their entire future, Kael Ardyn expects nothing special. He comes from a long line of ordinary warriors. His parents are ordinary warriors. So when the Spire brands him “Warrior – Common Rarity,” no one is surprised, least of all him. While legendary Origin classes and Mythic bloodlines dominate the headlines, Kael returns home smelling of slime, pockets one mana crystal heavier, and quietly begins the grind everyone says leads nowhere. The next day, his retired adventurer father does something no one expected: he calls in favors from his old party (a pair of married High Mages, a legendary Priest couple, and the most notorious Thief-Assassin husband-and-wife team in the kingdom) and drags their newly awakened children to the Ardyn living room. Four kids. Four inherited classes. Four families who have never met. - Kael Ardyn – Warrior (Common) - Caelan Vellfire – Mage - Liora Silverwind – Healer - Zev Nightshade – Thief Together they form the most perfectly balanced beginner party the city has ever seen… on paper. In reality they’re four nervous twenty-year-olds with zero teamwork, four sets of over-powered parents watching their every move, and four younger siblings turning every meeting into pure chaos. This is the story of a boy who was told he would never be special… and the party that accidentally becomes legendary because they refuse to leave their tank behind. A slow-burn progression fantasy about family, friendship, and proving that “common” only means “not rare yet.”
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Chapter 1 - Awakening day

I woke up in my soft, fluffy bed, stretched, and got ready for the day. I brushed my teeth, washed my hair, took a quick shower, then stepped out and opened the drawer. I pulled on a simple t-shirt and casual pants. When I opened my bedroom door and stepped into the hall, the smell of breakfast filled the air. Mom was cooking in the kitchen, Dad was watching the morning news on TV, and my little sister was sprawled on the couch playing games on my phone.

Dad looked up when he saw me. 

"You're twenty now," he said with a small smile. "Awakening day. Good luck, son."

I nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a plate piled with food. 

"Eat first," she said, handing it to me before heading back to the stove.

I sat down, ate quickly, then grabbed my jacket and slipped it on. 

"Hey, little sis—phone," I said, holding out my hand.

She tossed it over without looking. I caught it, pocketed it, and headed for the door.

"Wish me luck, everyone!"

In perfect unison, they called back, "Good luck!"

I stepped outside, closed the door behind me, and started walking down the familiar road toward the Awakening Ceremony, the morning sun warm on my back and my heart beating a little faster with every step.

I stepped through the towering school gates, and my breath caught. The courtyard was a sea of people—hundreds of thousands of twenty-year-olds from every province in the kingdom, all gathered for the same reason. Voices blurred into a low roar. Banners from distant cities snapped in the wind. The air itself felt thick with anticipation.

I joined the endless queue, shuffling forward with the crowd. Hours crawled by under the midday sun. One by one, students stepped into the Awakening Circle. Cheers erupted for rare classes. Some walked away silent, heads down, Unawakened.

Finally, the herald's voice rang out clear and sharp:

"Kael Ardyn!"

My legs carried me forward before my mind caught up. I stepped into the circle of runed stones. The moment my foot crossed the threshold, raw magic slammed into me—warm, electric, alive. It rushed through my veins like liquid fire.

Above the circle, the massive Awakening Board flared to life. Golden letters burned into existence:

KAEL ARDYN 

AGE: 20 

CLASS: WARRIOR 

RARITY: COMMON

A scribe nearby scribbled my details into the official ledger. A polite smattering of applause rippled through the crowd—nothing wild, nothing special. Just another warrior in a world full of them.

The instructor motioned me off the platform. "Next!"

I walked down the steps, trying not to feel the small twist of disappointment in my gut, and joined the river of newly awakened students heading toward the gates. Some laughed and showed off glowing skill marks. Others looked shell-shocked. A few were already waving down taxis or climbing into fancy carriages sent by proud noble families.

Me? I just slipped my hands into my pockets and started the long walk home under the late-afternoon sun, same as hundreds of other ordinary warriors.

The road felt longer going back than it had coming in.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The familiar smell of onions and garlic drifted from the kitchen.

Mom stood at the counter, knife flashing through vegetables in steady, practiced strokes. Dad was sunk deep in his armchair, some old action movie flickering on the screen. My little sister lay on the rug, legs kicking in the air while she tapped away at Dad's phone.

Dad glanced over. "So?"

"Warrior," I said, dropping my jacket on the chair.

He grunted, eyes already back on the TV. "Same as your mother and me. Not surprised."

Mom didn't look up, just kept chopping. The rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of the knife never slowed.

My sister didn't even lift her head. "Congrats, bro," she mumbled, thumbs flying across the screen.

I nodded at no one in particular. "Wake me when dinner's ready."

"Okay, honey," Mom answered, still not looking up.

I climbed the stairs, pushed open my bedroom door, and let myself fall face-first onto the bed. The mattress sighed under me. I stared at the ceiling for a minute, waiting for something—pride, disappointment, anything—to hit.

Nothing came.

Just the muffled sound of movie explosions downstairs, the steady chop of Mom's knife, and the faint victory music from my sister's game.

I closed my eyes and slept.

"KAEL! Dinner's ready!"

Mom's voice drifted up the stairs, pulling me out of a dreamless sleep. I blinked at the ceiling; the room was dark except for the faint glow of streetlights sneaking through the curtains. Night already.

I shuffled downstairs. The table was warm with lamplight. Dad had a bowl of curry in one hand and the remote in the other, muttering about Cousin Rena's third divorce. Mom laughed and shook her head, passing the rice. My little sister had one elbow in her plate and her other hand glued to the phone, some candy-crushing sound effects mixing with the clink of spoons.

I slid into my chair, scooped a mountain of rice, drowned it in vegetable curry, and started eating while scrolling through short videos (funny cats, sword tricks, people showing off their new skills). Same as every night.

The food was hot, the chatter was easy, and nobody mentioned the Awakening again. Just another ordinary evening for an ordinary warrior family.

I finished, rinsed my plate, and yawned. "Good night, everyone."

"Good night!" they chorused, not even looking up.

Back in my room, I changed into soft pajamas, crawled under the heavy blanket, and let the quiet wrap around me. The house settled into its familiar creaks and sighs.

Then sleep took me completely.

I woke up in my soft, fluffy bed, stretched until my joints popped, and dragged myself through the morning routine: teeth brushed, hair washed, quick shower, same gray t-shirt and worn pants from the drawer. Good enough.

Downstairs smelled like toast and spiced tea. Mom was at the stove, Dad glued to the morning news, volume low, and my little sister already had her face buried in a game. Mom slid a plate across the counter without a word (eggs, flatbread, a strip of crispy bacon). I inhaled it in four bites.

"Heading out," I said, grabbing my beat-up jacket.

"See you later!" they called in messy unison, Dad lifting one hand in a lazy wave, Mom smiling over her shoulder, my sister not even looking up.

I stepped outside, pulled the door shut, and started walking.

The newbie dungeon sat on the edge of town: a jagged stone archway half-swallowed by ivy, glowing faintly with the pale blue ward that kept anything above level 5 from wandering out. A hand-painted sign read "First-Tier Training Grounds – Warriors Welcome!"

A dozen other fresh awakeners were already milling around—mostly warriors like me, a couple of wide-eyed archers, one cocky kid swinging a brand-new wooden staff like he was born with it. Everyone wore the same cheap starter gear. Everyone looked nervous.

I cracked my knuckles, rolled my shoulders, and walked up to the entrance.

The ward shimmered as I crossed the threshold. Cool air hit my face, carrying the smell of moss and old iron.

Time to see what "common warrior" really means.

I flicked my wrist, and the pale blue panel popped open in the air:

Kael Ardyn

Class: Warrior (Common) 

Level: 0 

EXP: 0/100 

Skills: None 

Equipment: None

I snorted. Nothing more, nothing less. I swiped it shut.

The tunnel ahead was dim, damp, and smelled faintly of wet moss. A soft *plop-plop* echoed toward me.

One slime.

It was the size of a basketball, translucent green, with two googly little eyes that somehow managed to look both adorable and murderous. It bounced once, twice, then launched itself at my face with surprising speed.

I punched it square in the core.

*Splurch.*

It burst into glittering motes that soaked into my skin.

+1 EXP 

1/100

A tiny rush of warmth spread through my arm. Okay… that felt kind of good.

I grinned.

Ninety-nine more to go.

Hours blurred into a rhythm: spot the wobble, step in, one clean punch, splurch, move on. Left hook, right hook, overhead smash when I got bored. My knuckles stopped hurting after the twentieth one. By the fiftieth, I was laughing out loud every time one tried to "ambush" me from around a corner.

One hundred slimes later, the panel flashed gold.

LEVEL UP

Level 1 

EXP: 0/200 

+5 Strength | +3 Stamina | +1 free stat point

I felt it immediately: muscles denser, lungs deeper, the world a little sharper. I flexed my fingers. Definitely not just "common" anymore.

Among the hundred puddles of goo, a single thumb-sized crystal glimmered—pale blue, faintly warm. A mana crystal. Worth a week's groceries back in town.

I crouched, picked it up, and tucked it into my pocket.

The exit light was visible now, a circle of real daylight at the end of the tunnel. My shirt was soaked with slime juice, my hair sticky, and I smelled like a swamp, but I was grinning ear to ear.

First clear completed. 

One tiny crystal richer. 

Level 1.

I stepped back into the late-afternoon sun, rolled my shoulders, and started the walk home.

Tomorrow, I'm coming back for more.