They were sparring one morning when Lancer, between dodging Selene's strikes, decided to ask a question that had been weighing on his mind. He stepped back, lowering the practice spear she had insisted he use.
"Hey, Selene," he began, panting slightly, "what's your magic type? And your level? You're way too strong, and I haven't even seen you use magic yet."
Selene raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "That's a secret," she said with a teasing smirk. "But... since you're curious, I'll tell you this much—I'm a Red Mage."
Lancer's curiosity only deepened. "Red Mage? That's cool! What about your level?"
She crossed her arms, tapping her foot as if deciding whether or not to answer. "Fine, I'm level 2. But that's all you're getting out of me."
"Level 2?" Lancer repeated, his eyes widening. "That's crazy! No wonder you're so strong."
Selene smirked again but didn't comment, instead gesturing for him to get ready for the next round. Lancer, however, wasn't done with his questions.
"Wait, one more thing!" he blurted out, stopping her mid-swing. "What's a normal magic capacity for someone my age? Because... I think mine's kinda low."
Selene lowered her weapon, thinking about it for a moment. "Well," she began, "magic capacity varies from person to person, but for level 1, the baseline is around 1,000. Considering your age—what are you, a bit younger than me?—you should have at least 2,000 by now."
Lancer froze. His practice sword slipped from his grip as her words sank in. Slowly, he dropped to his knees, his head hanging low.
"Two thousand..." he muttered, a shadow forming over his face. "Two thousand, huh?"
"Uh, Lancer?" Selene asked, tilting her head.
"I knew it," he said, his voice shaky and hollow. "I really am useless."
He looked up at her with a forced, pained smile as if trying to laugh at himself, but the negativity radiating off him was almost tangible.
Selene sighed, walking over and patting him on the back—not gently, but not too rough either. "Stop being so dramatic," she said, trying to sound reassuring. "It's not a big deal. You can always level up and increase your magic capacity. After all, there's no real limit to how high your magic can grow."
Lancer blinked at her words, the gloom lifting slightly. "No limit, huh?"
"Yeah," Selene said with a grin, pulling him back to his feet. "But first, you've got to stop moping and start training. Otherwise, you'll never catch up to me!"
He chuckled weakly, brushing off the dirt. "Fine, fine. But don't hold back, okay?"
"Wasn't planning to," she said, raising her sword. "Now, come on. Let's see if you can last more than ten seconds this time."
He was dripping in sweat, lying flat on the ground by the time they were done. Selene stood over him, barely winded, twirling her practice sword. "Same time tomorrow?" she asked, smirking as she prepared to leave.
"Sure," Lancer groaned, barely managing to raise a hand in acknowledgment.
As she turned to go, he propped himself up on one elbow. "Wait, Selene," he called. "How do I level up?"
She paused, considering the question. "There's no one method," she finally replied. "Each person has their own unique way, and it's different for everyone. You've got at least one skill, right? Use it to figure out what works best for you."
With that, she left, leaving Lancer sitting on the ground. He sighed, staring at the sky as her words lingered in his mind. How was he supposed to figure that out?
As if on cue, the system chimed in. [Essence Assimilation has been identified as the optimal method for leveling up.]
"Essence Assimilation?" Lancer repeated aloud, blinking.
[By utilizing Essence Assimilation, you can absorb traits and magic capacity from creatures and plants you encounter. You successfully performed this action with the manticore, increasing your magic capacity by 400 points.]
Lancer's eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. "That's it!" he exclaimed, sitting up.
But the realization brought another problem. He couldn't exactly tell Nero or Selene that he wanted to go hunting for dangerous creatures. There was no way they'd let him go alone.
"I'll just sneak out," he muttered to himself, determination hardening his expression. He could already imagine the look on Selene's face when he came back stronger than her. That thought alone brought a grin to his face.
He decided to wait until the afternoon, during the guard's shift change, when security was at its most lax. Sure enough, when the time came, he slipped out unnoticed and headed for the forest.
It was just as dark and creepy as he remembered, the canopy blotting out most of the sunlight. Every rustle of leaves made his heart race, and doubts began creeping in. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Before he could turn back, the system spoke again. [A useful plant has been identified within range.]
Lancer followed the system's guidance until he found a patch of nettles with jagged green leaves and spines that glistened faintly. [This plant produces mild paralyzing toxins in its spines. Contact with the plant will initiate Essence Assimilation.]
"Paralyzing toxins? Great," Lancer muttered, kneeling down. He hesitated, then reached out and touched the plant.
The pain was immediate and sharp, like a thousand tiny needles stabbing into his hand. He clenched his teeth, nearly pulling away, but then the pain faded as quickly as it had come.
[Essence Assimilation successful. Skill acquired: Venomous Touch.]
Lancer stared at his hand, flexing his fingers. "Venomous Touch?" he asked.
[This skill enables the user to coat weapons or bare hands with a paralyzing toxin. Duration and potency increase with user's magic capacity.]
A slow smile spread across Lancer's face. "This might actually work."
He spent the next few hours meticulously touching every plant, insect, or object the system deemed useful. Each successful assimilation brought new skills or minor boosts to his stats, and he could feel himself growing stronger with each discovery. By the time he was done, his magic capacity had finally surpassed the thousand mark.
Lancer leaned back against a tree, grinning to himself. "Not bad," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was already imagining how he could exploit this system to get even stronger.
But his triumphant thoughts were short-lived as the system interrupted. [Warning: Essence Assimilation effectiveness will decrease at higher levels.]
The grin vanished from his face. "What?" he muttered, furrowing his brow.
[As you grow stronger, the effects of Essence Assimilation from weaker sources will diminish significantly.]
"Well, that's not very helpful," he grumbled, his good mood thoroughly deflated.
He pushed himself off the tree, deciding it was time to head back. The shadows of the forest had grown longer, and the eerie stillness was starting to get to him.
Then he heard it—a low, guttural growl that sent a shiver down his spine. He froze, every muscle in his body tensing as his mind raced.
"No way," he whispered, slowly turning toward the sound.
Out of the shadows, it stepped—the unmistakable form of a manticore, its silvery eyes gleaming with a predatory focus.
The system activated, and the now-familiar glowing text appeared in his vision: Weak point: Right foreleg joint.
Lancer stared at the message, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he couldn't help but question what he had done to deserve this.