The sun hung low on the horizon, casting an orange glow over the deserted field as Noah stood in the center, his sword—**Abyssal Night**—held firmly in his hands. The sword hummed with an eerie resonance, almost as if it too was eager to unleash its power. The memories of his previous life, the battles, the wars, the victories, they all surged to the forefront of his mind. But this was a different world, a different set of rules.
The world's power was governed by **mana** and **levels**, systems that had never existed in the same form in his past. For the first time in his life, Kaelen—now Noah—was faced with **limitations**.
In his previous life, he had been a master of the sword. A weapon he had wielded with unmatched precision, the blade a mere extension of his will. Now, in this strange new world, he was a fledgling **Level 1** hunter, with little more than his instincts and his sword to guide him.
Noah's hands tightened around the hilt of **Abyssal Night**, the weight of the sword felt familiar, comforting even. He was here to train, to hone his skills and prove to himself that, despite the limitations this world placed on him, he could rise to the top once more.
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His movements were fluid, almost instinctual as the first few strikes cut through the air. **Slash, cut, thrust, parry.** Every motion was practiced, precise, born of countless hours spent mastering the sword in his past life. The air seemed to bend around him as he moved, the weight of the blade responding like it had never left his side. His body responded in turn, muscles and sinew remembering the motions without hesitation.
The sword was an extension of his soul, and it felt the same here.
With each swing, Noah could feel the subtle pull of mana—still weak and foreign to him—gathering at the base of his palm, flowing up into his arm, into the blade. He could feel it, as if the sword itself was drinking from the wellspring of his power, sharpening his strikes, deepening the flow of his control.
But something was wrong.
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Noah paused in mid-strike, his sword hovering in the air as he stood still. He felt it—the slight ebb of power, the pull of mana, but the **sword didn't react** the way it should. His skill wasn't growing. His body wasn't tiring, his technique wasn't degrading—yet the **sword mastery skill** he had just acquired didn't seem to level up at all.
His brow furrowed as he turned his focus inward, channeling his mana with the same concentration he had when learning new abilities. He visualized the flow of energy, the way it coiled around his blade as he swung it, hoping to infuse it further with strength.
Nothing.
The system chimed faintly in his vision:
**"Sword Mastery (Level 1)"**
**"You have acquired a new skill: Sword Mastery."**
No new notifications. No prompts saying he'd leveled up. No words of encouragement from the system. It was like he was stuck in some strange loop where he could not progress.
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Noah gritted his teeth, frustration building. He swung the sword again, the movement so fast it left an afterimage behind. **Still nothing.** He continued for hours, throwing himself into the motions, attempting to unlock the potential of his new skill. But the result was the same.
**"Sword Mastery (Level 1)"**—it was as though the skill had become locked in place.
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Sitting down on the grassy field, Noah took a deep breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead, but his mind was far from exhausted. This new world... it had its own rules. Its own **standards**. He had assumed that his past mastery over the sword would allow him to simply pick up where he left off, but the reality was different. The world's systems weren't so easily bypassed.
The **Sword Mastery skill** was something that others in this world would train for, but for Noah, it felt foreign, like an uncharted sea where his knowledge couldn't help him navigate. In his previous life, he had honed his skills through sheer will and effort. Here, however, he realized that the system wasn't going to simply bend to his desires. The standards were higher, the progression slower.
Noah let out a breath, his eyes narrowing in determination. **This world had its rules. But rules were made to be broken.**
---
He rose to his feet, his expression hardening as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn't about to give up—**not now, not ever**. If the world required **leveling up**, then he would rise through the ranks, one painstaking step at a time. If the system required effort to unlock his potential, he would put forth that effort, tenfold.
In this new world, where everything had to be earned, Noah would climb the ladder and carve his way to the top.
The **Sword Mastery** skill may not have leveled up today—but it would. Soon enough, it would.
And when it did, he would be a force that even this new world would have no choice but to fear.
Noah's gaze turned cold and resolute, a fire igniting within him once more. **He would learn. He would grow.**
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This world wasn't done with him yet. And Noah—no, **Kaelen**—wasn't done with it.
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