Two months had passed since Zen had learned Magic Missiles, and significant changes had taken root in his life. As he prepared to embark on a new chapter of his journey—starting kindergarten—a glance at his stats screen revealed the progress he had made:
Name: Zen Hoshi
Titles: None
Age: 5 years
Strength (STR): 6
Agility (AGL): 3
Stamina (STA): 7
Endurance (END): 9
Mana Points (MP): 5/5
Mana Regeneration (MR): 1.2 MP per hour
Luck (LUK): 7 (fixed)
Average Human Adult: 20
Free Attribute: 0
System Points (SP): 1,000
Resistances: Novice Fire Resistance
Skills: Language Level 6, Sleeping Level 8, Swordsmanship Level 9, Mana Manipulation Level 3
Spells: Magic Missiles Level 4
As Zen reflected on his journey thus far, memories flooded his mind, transporting him back to the intense training sessions that had shaped his growth. Under his father's guidance, his swordsmanship had flourished, reaching an impressive level 9. With each swing of his sword, he felt as if had become more and more competent with the blade.
Amidst these thoughts, a particular memory emerged, vivid and clear. Zen found himself back in his room, a few weeks earlier, engrossed in practicing Magic Missiles. The air hummed with energy as he focused on shaping his mana into the form of the spell. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and there stood his mother, her eyes widening in astonishment at the sight before her.
"Zen, what in the world?" his mother exclaimed, her voice betraying a mixture of surprise and concern.
Caught off guard, Zen's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to come up with an explanation. He could feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as his mother's gaze bore into him.
"I-I just wanted to... impress you guys," Zen finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His mother's expression softened slightly, but there was still a sternness in her tone as she reprimanded him for practicing magic without supervision. She reminded him of the importance of caution and responsibility when it came to using magic, especially at his age.
Feeling chastised, Zen nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his actions
"Now," his mother said, "let's see how far along you've come then shall we?"
Feeling a twinge of nervous excitement, Zen took a deep breath and focused his energy. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned forth his magic, a singular Magic Missiles. As it materialized before him, his mother's eyes widened in astonishment, a proud smile spreading across her face.
"Well well well, looks like my little munchkin has grown up," she said with excitement. "Just over five years old and able to use Magic Missiles," she said while ruffling his hair.
"How many times can you use it?" Aya asked.
"Around three times at the moment," He said shyly.
"Three times?! Already?! At your age? When I was your age I was still drawing in art books. I hadn't even touched magic yet."
As Zen reminisced about the moment his mother caught him practicing magic, a sense of nostalgia washed over him.
As the weeks went by his proficiency of magic had also deepened, evident in the advancement of his Magic Missiles spell to level 4. What had once been a crude and rudimentary cylinder now resembles a needle, albeit a little thicker than normal and not as pointy. The distance it travels before dissipating has also increased, from not even one foot, to a full meter in distance.
But perhaps most remarkable was the transformation of his physical attributes. Through consistent and disciplined training, his strength, agility, stamina, and endurance had increased by 1.5 times their number. The effort he had invested in honing his body was now paying dividends, equipping him with the physical prowess needed to navigate the challenges ahead.
However, amidst all these achievements, there was one aspect of his training that Zen regretted neglecting—his resistance. Despite his best intentions, the demands of his rigorous schedule had left little time for him to focus on strengthening his defenses against elemental attacks or other forms of harm. As he glanced at his stats screen, a pang of disappointment tugged at his heart, reminding him of the importance of balance and the need to address all aspects of his training. Nonetheless, Zen remained determined to rectify this oversight in the days to come, eager to continue his journey of self-improvement with renewed focus and diligence.
"Zen wake up, it's time for breakfast!" His father shouted from downstairs.Waking up from his reverie Zen quickly got ready and rushed down the stairs, excited to his mother's cooking. Sitting down at the dinner table Aya deposited a bowl of lai fan in front of him still piping hot from the pot.
"Noodles? For breakfast? Alright!" Zen said with enthusiasm before he started digging in, not caring about the temperature of the still steaming noodles.
"Woah there champ, slow down. No ones gonna steal the noodles from you." His father said. "It's a one off thing, after all tomorrow you're gonna be starting kindergarten."
Caught off guard by his father's words, Zen choked on a mouthful of noodles, his eyes widening in surprise. He quickly reached for his water, coughing and sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. After a moment, he managed to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Kindergarten... Tomorrow?" Zen repeated, his voice filled with incredulity. "Do I have to go? I've already learned everything that they're gonna teach me. It'll just be a waste of time that could be better spent training."
"We've been over this before," his mother said. "You might know everything that they're gonna teach you. Why, you could probably jump straight into highschool with all that studying you do in the library. But you need to make friends your age, and it's gonna be a lot harder when you show up in highschool as a new kid when all the cliques are already formed."
"Tch…fine. But it doesn't mean I'm gonna like it."