Leon woke before the sun rose.
His palms burned before his eyes fully opened.
For a few seconds, he lay still on the narrow bed in his chamber, staring at the wooden ceiling beams above him. The events of the previous day settled into his awareness slowly.
SSS-Rank.
Spearmanship.
The whispers.
The looks.
He turned his hands upward.
The blisters had already begun forming along the base of his fingers and across his right palm where the shaft had rubbed raw. They stung sharply when he flexed.
Good.
It meant he had not imagined the effort.
He rose, dressed in plain training clothes, and left his chamber without summoning a servant. The manor corridors were quiet at this hour. Only the night guards remained awake, nodding respectfully as he passed.
Outside, dawn painted the sky in pale shades of gray and blue.
The training grounds waited.
Leon picked up the same worn spear from the rack. He could have requested a better one now. After all, he possessed an SSS-Rank talent. The servants would not dare refuse.
He chose not to.
If his foundation was weak, a finer spear would only hide the flaws.
He planted his feet in the dirt.
The system interface lingered faintly in his mind, silent and still. It did not project glowing screens or demand attention. It existed like a quiet observer.
Leon inhaled slowly.
Then thrust.
The motion was clean.
He withdrew.
Again.
He focused on his breathing this time, aligning each thrust with an exhale. The spear moved straighter when his breath remained steady. When he rushed it, the line bent ever so slightly.
After thirty repetitions, sweat gathered at his temples. After fifty, his shoulders began to ache. At eighty, his palms throbbed where the blisters had torn slightly.
He did not stop.
The system did not speak.
Leon gritted his teeth and continued.
By the time the sun rose fully over the distant hills, his arms trembled with fatigue. His breathing came harder now. Dirt clung to his boots from constant repositioning.
He thrust again.
This time, something felt different.
The spear tip followed a line that seemed obvious in his mind. He could almost see it, like a faint thread stretching from his shoulder through the target.
The wooden post cracked faintly where the tip struck.
A shallow indentation formed exactly in the center of yesterday's mark.
The system responded.
Minor insight gained.
Spearmanship comprehension slightly increased.
Leon exhaled slowly.
One notification.
For nearly a hundred repetitions.
He smiled faintly.
That was fair.
Later that morning, the full training session began.
Noble youths filled the grounds, instructors pacing among them. Word of Leon's SSS-Rank awakening had spread overnight. He felt the shift in their gazes even before the first whispers began.
"SSS-Rank, really?"
"With a spear though."
"What a waste."
Aldric approached with a curious expression.
"I heard you trained all night," he said casually.
Leon adjusted his stance and continued practicing without looking at him.
"I trained," Leon replied.
Aldric twirled his wooden sword. "You should practice dueling. That's how rankings are decided."
Leon thrust again.
"And when duels are over?" he asked quietly.
Aldric paused.
"What do you mean?"
Leon withdrew the spear and finally turned to face him.
"Does the world end when a duel ends?"
Aldric frowned slightly. "That's not how it works."
Leon nodded once and returned to practice.
The instructor eventually called for sparring sessions.
Leon was paired with a mid-tier sword trainee. The sparring circle formed around them, dirt cleared away to create space.
"Begin," the instructor ordered.
Leon adjusted his stance. The spear felt longer here, more cumbersome. Sword users thrived in this distance.
The opponent lunged first.
Leon stepped back and thrust, forcing space. The sword deflected the spear shaft and slipped inside his guard. The blunt blade tapped his shoulder.
"Point," the instructor announced.
A few chuckles sounded from the sidelines.
Leon reset.
They exchanged blows again. Leon landed one clean thrust to the opponent's thigh, but in close exchanges, the sword's versatility became apparent.
After several rounds, the instructor called a halt.
"Your reach is your strength," the instructor said to Leon. "But you struggle once space closes."
Leon bowed slightly. "Understood."
The comment was not cruel. It was honest.
He replayed the sparring session in his mind. His footwork had been reactive, not proactive. He had retreated instead of controlling the distance.
The system remained silent.
It would not hand him answers.
Good.
That meant the answers had to be found.
That afternoon, Leon left the manor grounds alone.
The forest bordering Valcrest territory stretched wide and uneven. Beyond it lay monster-infested regions that minor nobles were responsible for managing. It was dangerous but necessary.
If he wanted to test his spear properly, it would not be in sparring circles.
The deeper he went into the trees, the quieter the world became. The air grew damp, heavy with the scent of moss and decay.
Leon slowed his breathing.
He had no escort.
No witness.
Only the spear in his hand.
A low rustling reached his ears.
He shifted his stance instinctively.
Two wolf-like creatures emerged from between the trees, their bodies larger than normal beasts, eyes faintly glowing with unstable mana.
Leon swallowed once.
This was different from wooden posts and controlled drills.
The first beast lunged.
Leon thrust.
His timing was slightly late.
Claws scraped along his forearm, tearing cloth and skin. Pain flared sharply. He stumbled but did not fall.
The second beast circled, waiting for weakness.
Leon forced himself to breathe.
He adjusted his grip and stepped forward instead of back.
The spear shot out in a straight line, guided by everything he had drilled that morning.
The tip pierced through the first beast's throat.
Warm blood splashed across his hand.
The second beast lunged from the side.
Leon pivoted, using the spear's shaft to intercept the bite before thrusting again. The spearhead sank deep into the creature's chest.
Both beasts collapsed.
Silence returned.
Leon stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding violently in his chest.
His arm bled steadily from the earlier strike.
He leaned on the spear to steady himself.
The system spoke.
Combat engagement registered.
Life-threatening encounter detected.
Spearmanship comprehension increased.
Leon closed his eyes briefly.
The notification felt earned.
Not gifted.
He looked down at the bodies of the beasts.
If his thrust had been a fraction slower, if his stance had been unstable, he would have died here.
SSS-Rank meant nothing without control.
He wiped the blood from the spearhead against the grass.
As he turned to leave, a faint sensation brushed the edge of his awareness again.
The same presence from last night.
Distant.
Watching.
Leon frowned and scanned the trees.
Nothing moved.
Only wind through leaves.
He tightened his grip on the spear.
"I do not know what you are," he murmured softly, "but if you are watching, then watch closely."
He stepped forward, deeper into the forest.
Unseen beyond the veil of ordinary sight, something shifted.
A shape began to take form in the emptiness behind him. Tall. Armored. Silent.
It did not approach.
Not yet.
It simply followed.
Waiting for the moment its loyalty would be proven worthy.
Leon did not look back.
But for the first time, the forest no longer felt entirely empty.
And somewhere in the distance, another pair of glowing eyes opened.
Larger.
Far more dangerous.