The morning sun broke through the small window, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Kael groggily rubbed his eyes and stretched, feeling the familiar soreness in his muscles. It had become a part of him now. The routine was etched into his bones.
He stood from his cot, every movement slow and deliberate as he prepared himself for the day ahead. The fortress walls were still and silent, but Kael knew the time for sleep was long over. The dungeon was still there, ticking away like a time bomb. Every day, the pressure mounted, but he would not let it break him.
He stepped to the side of the room and stared at his reflection in a small, cracked mirror. His frame was lean, but his muscles had been steadily growing. His arms, once weak and incapable, had been slowly adjusting to the burden of sword training. But that wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He had to be stronger.
He sighed and looked toward the system interface, calling it up with a thought.
---
System Interface - Kael Thorne
Name: Kael Thorne
Title(s): Exiled Scion, Fallen Noble, Dignity of the Noble (Passive Trait)
Potential: B+
Current Rank: F (Current Progress: F+)
Trait: None
Attributes:
Strength: 15 (F)
Agility: 12 (F)
Endurance: 27 (F+)
Intelligence: 25 (F+)
Mana Capacity: 20 (F)
Luck: 10 (F-)
Skills:
Intermediate Swordsmanship: 45/100
Basic Mana Control: 30/100
Perfect Insight (Passive): MAX — Enables instant memorization and flawless replication of any observed technique, spell, or movement.
Stoic Resolve (Passive): MAX — Grants the ability to maintain composure, suppress emotions, and remain calm under pressure, masking any weakness or vulnerability from others, showing true feelings only to those Kael trusts implicitly.
---
Kael frowned, eyes narrowing at the low strength statistic. F rank. He should have been better by now. He was frustrated with his progress, or lack thereof. His swordsmanship had improved, but without enough strength to back it up, he was still falling short. He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar sting of his frustration.
How does one improve with these trash stats?
His thoughts wandered briefly to the original Kael, and his bitterness surged again. How had the original managed to become powerful with such pitiful stats? Dark Forces had played a part, sure. But Kael refused to rely on them for power. He would get strong on his own — or not at all.
But his reality was different now. He was stuck in this fortress, trying to stop a dungeon from exploding and destroying everything. And in just three months, that disaster would unfold, wiping out everything he had left. His family thought he was dead, and by all accounts, they were right. No one knew that he survived the dungeon's collapse. They assumed he'd died in the chaos.
But he hadn't died. He had survived, and now the clock was ticking down. Time was against him. And all he had was his will and the determination to grow stronger.
His gaze shifted to the window. The soldiers outside practiced their combat drills, moving in fluid unison as they carried out their tasks. Kael could see their strength, the power that came with years of training and experience. They were confident in their abilities, their bodies honed to perfection. His gaze lingered on them, frustration building. He wanted to be like them, wanted to swing his sword with the same power, the same grace. But strength wasn't something that could be learned overnight. He could see the way their bodies moved with precision, their muscles rippling with each strike. They were strong, battle-hardened.
He was not.
But he would be.
Kael took a deep breath and turned toward the training grounds. He had hours before the doctor would arrive to check on him. Time to make progress — even if it was slow.
His sword felt heavy as he gripped the hilt and began his warm-up. The wooden blade was light enough to swing with one hand, but it might as well have been a boulder for all the good it did him. His arms were shaky after only a few swings. His muscles weren't used to it yet. But Kael ignored the fatigue and kept going, pushing through it.
The soldiers glanced over at him occasionally, but most of them ignored him. Kael didn't mind. He wasn't here to impress them; he was here to survive.
The more he practiced, the more the frustration built. He couldn't move fast enough, couldn't channel enough strength into his strikes. He could visualize the technique, could feel it in his body, but when he tried to perform it, his arms wouldn't respond. His strikes were weak, sloppy, and they lacked the impact they should have had.
By the time he heard the footsteps of the soldiers, he had already been practicing for over an hour. They didn't speak to him, just passed by with their own practice, casting side glances at his failure. He could feel the contempt, but he ignored it. The soldiers were just doing their job. He would do his own, no matter how hard it became.
"How long are you going to keep doing that?" A voice called out, a soldier who seemed to take notice of Kael's struggle.
Kael paused, holding the sword at an awkward angle, sweat dripping from his forehead. "As long as it takes," he said through gritted teeth, the determination in his voice clear. He wasn't giving up.
The soldier snorted. "You're never going to be able to use that sword with that weak body." He shook his head and continued walking, his words cutting deeper than Kael would admit.
But Kael didn't respond. He couldn't afford to waste his breath on them. Instead, he turned back to his training. Each swing was harder than the last, and each time he felt his body scream at him to stop, he ignored it.
He didn't have time to stop. He had to get stronger — now. He had to learn to harness his power.
Kael practiced relentlessly for the next several hours, watching his form through his reflection in the nearby window. It wasn't perfect, but he could see the progress. Each time he swung, he was getting a little faster, a little stronger. It was slow, agonizingly slow, but it was progress.
By midday, he was exhausted. His arms felt like lead, and his body screamed in protest. But the door creaked open, and Liana stepped into the room, her soft presence always bringing a little peace to his chaotic mind. She looked at him, her eyes filled with concern.
"Kael... you're pushing yourself too hard." Her voice was gentle, but there was an undeniable worry in her tone. "You need to rest."
Kael wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded, but he didn't stop training. "I can't rest. Not yet."
Liana hesitated, but she didn't push. She knew better than to argue with him when he was this determined.
"The commander was angry," Liana said after a pause, her voice softening. "He said you're putting yourself in unnecessary danger by fighting when you're still weak."
Kael stiffened. The commander's opinion didn't matter to him. "I'm not weak," he muttered under his breath, though deep down, he knew that was far from the truth. He wasn't strong enough to face the monsters that would come, not yet. But he would be.
"Liana..." Kael started, but his words faltered. There was something about her calm presence that made him feel... uncertain. He hadn't allowed anyone in, not truly. But Liana was different. Her unwavering care for him, despite everything, felt like a lifeline in a world where everything else seemed to be falling apart. He was so used to being alone, to carrying his burdens by himself. But with her, it was different.
"You should rest," she urged again, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
Kael nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere. He couldn't afford to rest — not when the dungeon was still a ticking time bomb, waiting to destroy everything. His family thought he was dead, but he couldn't die here. Not when there was still so much to do.
He turned away from Liana, his resolve hardening once more. He wouldn't stop until he was strong enough to face whatever came next.
"I'll be fine. Just give me a little more time."
She didn't say anything, but Kael could feel her gaze on him as he resumed his training. As long as he had his resolve, he would keep going, no matter how many failures he had to endure.
The next few months would be a long, exhausting road. But Kael was ready to walk it. And when the dungeon finally exploded, he would be ready to stop it. He had no other choice.