I left Daniel and Raymond’s presence with a latent irritation pulsing under my temples. Talking to those two always reminded of how low the ceiling is for a common man in this world. They were content with the crumbs from the nobility’s table, while I was here, secretly redesigning the entire banquet.
I walked toward the dormitory. The academy’s air was thick with the scent of well-kept gardens and the passive mana floating from the sorcery towers—a combination that usually cald , but today it felt like nothing more than a reminder of how far behind I still was in the real power hierarchy. I entered my room, which luckily was still empty, and locked the door.
"System," I murmured, feeling the familiar tingling in my retina.
The crimson screen materialized in front of , floating in the air with renewed clarity after the last update. The balance of 21,300 points shone like gold. It was a treasure forged in lust and danger, and it was ti to reinvest it. I noticed a new tab had appeared, blinking faintly. I slid my finger through the air, opening the Human Attributes nu.
What I saw was a detailed map of my current diocrity. My agility was barely better than that of a healthy peasant, my mana was laughable by magical knight standards, and my physical strength... well, it was enough not to die from the first blow.
"Ti to change the rules of this ga," I hissed.
I focused on the Agility bar. I used 800 points. Instantly, a wave of heat ran through my calves and thighs. My muscles seed to compress, becoming denser, ready to spring like tensed coils.
Next, I looked at Mana. In this world, mana is the blood of authority. Without it, you’re just a spectator. I allocated 2,000 points. The sensation was different this ti; it wasn’t heat, but a cutting cold that climbed up my spine and settled at the base of my brain. My perception of the surrounding environnt seed to expand for a split second. I could feel the draft under the door more clearly.
Finally, I invested 1,600 points in Strength. My shoulders and arms throbbed as the muscle fibers tore and rebuilt themselves in a fraction of a second. I didn’t look like a bodybuilder—the system was too discreet for that—but the density of my body had changed drastically.
[Current Balance: 16,900 Vital Points]
I thought about spending everything, about becoming a monster all at once. But I hesitated. The "Beast" inside growled in warning. Abilities like Nightmare Echo and the future domination functions consud points in real ti. If I went to zero, I would be a strong warrior, but without my supernatural "trump card." I needed balance.
I put on my training outfit: a reinforced leather gambeson and pants that allowed full mobility. I grabbed my common steel sword—the sa "trash" I had used in the arena—and headed to the northern training area.
The training field was a stone and packed-earth amphitheater, surrounded by protective runes that prevented destruction from spreading to the rest of the academy. I got lucky; the place was deserted, except for the supervisor on duty, a middle-aged woman with a scar crossing her neck, indicating she had seen real battles.
"I want to use the Practice Golems," I said, keeping my voice respectful but firm. "I have solo use authorization for one hour."
She assessed with tired eyes, probably recognizing as the boy from the arena. Without saying a word, she simply nodded toward the central device, a black crystal obelisk embedded in the ground.
I approached the device. I placed my hand on the cold surface and injected a small amount of my new mana. The crystal glowed with a bluish light, and around the courtyard, ten piles of runic stones began to rise and assemble. They were the Golems. Soulless beings, made only to grind down whoever stood in front of them.
The first one attacked before I had fully drawn my sword. If it had been yesterday’s Shade, I would have been hit. But today, my reflexes were sharp. I dodged to the left, feeling the stone fist pass inches from my face. The vacuum of the blow lifted my hair.
One.
I spun my body and delivered a precise cut to the automaton’s shoulder joint. The stone chipped, and its arm fell useless. I advanced on the second, feeling the new agility flow through my body. I was like a shadow dancing between the rocks.
Cut, dodge, impact.
I took down five of them in less than ten minutes. But the training system wasn’t that simple. The remaining five seed to rge or, at the very least, coordinate their attacks. And then, the "Leader" rose. It was a larger Golem, twice my size, and its surface wasn’t just thin stone, but sothing that resembled obsidian.
It roared—a tallic sound of stones clashing—and charged. I tried to block the first blow, but its force dragged two ters back. My arms vibrated with the impact, my bones protesting the pressure.
"That’s what I’m talking about," I muttered, wiping the sweat that was running into my eyes.
The Golem delivered a downward punch that would have crushed my skull if I hadn’t rolled to the side at the last millisecond.
I was getting tired. The increased mana helped keep my breath, but fighting that mass of stone without offensive magic was hard work. I rembered the instructors’ lessons: Do not attack the crystal core in the chest, or you will destroy the precious stone.
"If I can’t destroy the core, I’ll destroy what supports it," I decided.
The big one advanced again, its footsteps making the ground tremble. This ti, I didn’t retreat. I waited for the exact mont when it raised its arms for a crushing blow. There. Where the legs joined the torso, there was a runic gap, a joint that allowed the circular movent of the hips.
I slid under its legs, slling ozone and dust. With a grunt of effort, I delivered a two-handed strike to the back of the stone knee. The common steel blade vibrated violently, almost breaking, but the cut was deep enough. The Golem faltered.
I didn’t give it ti to recover. I leaped onto its back, using the stone protrusions as support, and struck repeatedly at the base of the neck, where the head connected to the body. It wasn’t brute force; it was precision. With a dry crack, the obsidian Golem’s head detached and rolled across the ground.
The giant body fell with a crash that echoed throughout the entire training field. Silence returned, broken only by my heavy breathing and the humming of the other Golems deactivating.
I was exhausted. My muscles burned, and my uniform was covered in stone dust and sweat. I sat on the cold ground, feeling my heart hamring against my ribs. But I couldn’t stop there.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus. I needed to understand my new mana reserve. I attempted the ditation technique I had seen the nobles doing: visualizing the energy as a river and trying to dam it at a single point in the solar plexus. It was incredibly difficult. The mana seed to want to escape, to dissipate into the air. But with effort, I managed to keep a small sphere of stable energy for a few seconds.
"Not bad for a ’mob’," I thought, opening a bitter smile.
I looked at the runic clock on the arena wall. It was already 5 PM. The sun was beginning to set, tinting the sky a bloody orange—the color of my ambition. I stood up, sheathed my sword, and walked back to the dormitory.
The training had been good, but it was only the beginning. I needed more than muscles and basic mana. I needed those abilities back. I needed Marie, the untouchable villainess, under my control. And for that, I would have to dive deeper into what the Beast System demanded.
As I walked through the now darker corridors of the academy, the image of Rina, that servant I had already "marked," ca to mind. If the system wanted to be a beast to give power, I would be the worst of them.
The board was set.
I just needed the right pieces in place.
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