Night in Asterwyn didn't feel like the village nights Cael remembered.
In the village, darkness meant everyone disappeared. Doors shut. Voices dropped. Even the dogs stopped barking, as if they understood the rules.
Asterwyn didn't disappear.
It only changed its face.
The city stayed alive under lantern light—students laughing in clusters, merchants arguing as they rolled shutters down, guards pacing routes that looked safe only from a distance. Somewhere, a tavern spilled music into the street like it was trying to drown out every fear that lived beneath the stones.
But Cael could feel it.
That second city.
The one that didn't sing or laugh.
The one that waited.
He returned to his inn and locked the door behind him, leaning against it for half a second as if his bones needed permission to keep holding him upright.
His dagger rested on the table.
His bandages itched under his sleeves.
The Seed of Irregular Growth sat hidden against his skin, warm like a quiet pulse that he didn't trust yet.
Cael exhaled slowly, then spoke the command.
"Status."
The blue window appeared instantly, clean and bright against the dim room.
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Cael Thornwood
Race: Human
Age: 16
Level: 2
Class: None
Title(s): Grove Survivor
HP: 38 / 53
MP: 19 / 19
Stamina: 29 / 29
Strength: 3
Agility: 4
Endurance: 3
Magic Power: 1
Perception: 6
Luck: 1
Control: 1
Unique System: Irregular Growth System (Active)
Bonded Relic: Seed of Irregular Growth (24% Bonded)
Technique(s): Mana Circulation — Inner Loop (Basic)
Skills: None
Talents: None
Active Quest(s):
Enter S-Class in 6 Days (Main)
Do Not Become Prey (Survival: 48 Hours Remaining)
Cael stared at the window without blinking.
The numbers were still miserable.
Strength still stuck at three.
Magic Power still a pathetic one.
Luck still a flat, cruel one like the world itself was mocking him.
But his eyes caught something new.
Control: 1.
It was small, almost nothing, but Cael understood what it meant.
Control wasn't raw power.
It was the ability to use what you had properly.
To waste less movement.
To waste less mana.
To survive longer.
In a body like his… that mattered more than Strength ever would.
He dismissed the window.
Then he sat on the bed, rested his elbows on his knees, and looked at the floor.
Talents and Skills…
In the game, it had been a flashy system. People awakened legendary talents and became main characters overnight.
But that wasn't the truth.
Not in reality.
In reality, talent was a crack in the rules—a personal exception written into someone's soul. It was the reason certain people became heroes, and others became footnotes.
And Cael remembered something important:
The chosen heroine—the real protagonist of this world—had a talent that made fate itself protect her.
The heroines did too.
Each one different. Each one terrifying.
He didn't know when he would see them.
He didn't know how much of the game's "canon" still applied.
But he knew the academy was full of monsters hiding behind smiles.
And right now, Cael Thornwood had no skills, no talents, and a weak body that wouldn't even last ten seconds in a real duel.
So when the System told him he would be hunted in forty-eight hours…
He didn't feel surprise.
He felt inevitability.
Cael stood, strapped his dagger on, adjusted the sheath twice until it sat right, and walked out.
The city swallowed him instantly.
He kept to brighter roads at first, moving naturally, not like prey. He watched reflections in shop windows. Listened for footsteps that didn't match the crowd's rhythm.
Then he shifted direction.
One turn.
Two.
Quieter streets now.
Fewer lanterns.
Less laughter.
More shadow.
His instincts tightened like a drawn bow.
There it was.
Footsteps behind him.
Slow. Careful. Following.
Cael didn't turn.
He kept walking.
He waited until the street narrowed and the sound of the main road was far enough to feel like it belonged to another world.
Then the grab came.
A hand clamped onto his collar from behind and yanked him backward.
Cael's dagger hand moved instantly—pure reflex.
But his attacker was prepared.
A second hand caught his wrist mid-draw and twisted hard.
Pain shot up Cael's arm. His grip failed.
The dagger slipped free and hit the ground with a sharp clang.
Two figures stepped out of the dark ahead.
One held a short knife.
The other smiled like he'd already won.
"Not so tough without the forest, huh?" the man behind him whispered.
Cael's heart beat once, hard.
Then steady again.
Escape. That's the objective.
He let his shoulders sag, pretending his strength had run out.
The man behind him chuckled. "Good boy."
Cael stomped backward, aiming for the man's foot.
The attacker hissed.
The grip loosened for half a breath.
Cael twisted sharply, slammed his elbow into the man's ribs, and ripped his wrist free.
His body moved fast—too fast for his stats to justify—because desperation didn't care about stat sheets.
Cael dove for the dagger.
Fingers closed around the hilt.
He ran.
Footsteps exploded behind him.
"Catch him!"
He turned into a narrow alley, then another, breath tearing at his throat, stamina dropping like it had been cut open.
His ribs ached. His shoulder screamed. His vision blurred.
Then he reached the end.
A dead wall.
Dead end.
Cael stopped so suddenly his knees nearly collapsed.
The men behind him slowed, smiling wider now.
"There," one of them said, stepping closer. "Now stop making it hard."
Cael held the dagger in front of him with a grip that shook.
His lungs burned.
His body knew it couldn't win.
But his mind screamed that losing here meant chains.
Or worse.
The man lunged.
And something inside Cael snapped.
Not anger.
Not fear.
A cold survival impulse so sharp it felt older than this life.
The System erupted in front of his eyes.
[Skill Awakening Condition Met]Trigger: Near-Certain Capture
State: HP Below Threshold / Fight-or-Flight Response Detected
Skill Acquired: Instinct Step
Type: Movement / Survival
Rank: Common
Level: 1
Effect: +15% Evasion for 3 seconds
Cooldown: 30 seconds
Description: A burst of movement driven purely by survival instinct.
The attacker's blade came down.
Cael's body moved sideways at the last possible moment.
His back scraped the wall. His foot slid on stone. It was ugly—clumsy even—
but the strike missed.
Cael pivoted, the dagger flashing upward.
He stabbed the man's forearm.
Not deep.
Not lethal.
But enough.
The man screamed and stumbled back, clutching his arm.
Cael didn't hesitate.
He slipped past them in that single window of chaos and sprinted out of the alley, legs shaking violently but moving anyway.
He ran until lantern light returned.
Until voices returned.
Until normal life surrounded him like armor.
Only then did he collapse against a wall, breath ragged, hands trembling around the dagger.
The System chimed again, quieter.
[Skill EXP Gained: Instinct Step (9%)]
Cael blinked sweat from his eyes.
His heart was still pounding like it wanted to tear free.
Then the blue window appeared again, slower this time—heavier.
[Talent Formation Detected]Talents are forged through repeated survival and skill usage under extreme conditions.Heroes and Key Characters possess unique Talents that shape their fate.
Your path begins now.
Talent Acquired: Survivor's Flow
Type: Passive
Rank: Rare
Level: 1
Effect:Recovery Speed +10% after battle Skill Growth Rate +5% when HP is below 30%
Description: Your body adapts faster after life-threatening combat. Pain becomes a teacher, not a limit.
Cael stared at the words until the shaking in his hands slowed.
A talent.
Not a blessing given at birth.
Not a miracle handed by destiny.
A talent carved out of a moment where he had been cornered like an animal.
He swallowed hard and looked down at the dagger.
Blood clung to the edge.
Not much.
But real.
He breathed out, slow.
"…Good."
His voice sounded rough, like it had been dragged through stone.
Cael pushed himself off the wall and began walking back toward his inn, careful to keep to brighter streets. The city still hummed with careless life, unaware of how close he'd come to disappearing quietly into the shadows.
He kept his head down.
Kept his grip tight.
And as he walked, the System's earlier words echoed in his mind:
Heroes and Key Characters possess unique talents.
Cael didn't know what his heroines' talents would look like yet.
But now he finally had something to stand on.
Not strength.
Not luck.
A foothold.
He looked up once, toward the distant academy tower looming beyond the rooftops.
Six days.
And now—
he wasn't going into it empty-handed.