As Nathan gazed at the glowing interface suspended in midair, his heart continued to race. He began to doubt his sanity due to the utter ridiculousness of it all. A menu that floats? A voice in his mind? He felt as though he had fallen into a video game, but this bizarre system was all he had and there was no controller or save button.
"Quests, battle, and training? He murmured to himself, What does that even mean?" and tentatively reached for the light screen. It flickered dimly before steadiing as his fingers moved through it like light on water.
The interface showed his stats in cold, clinical detail:
[Heavenly Ascent System Interface]
Name: Nathan Caelum
Level: 1 (Beginner Tier)
Core Attributes:
Strength: 5
Agility: 5
Endurance: 5
Intelligence: 5
Mana: 5
Next Milestone: Unlock Infinite Training Space at Level 10.
The presentation exuded mediocrity in every way. The statistics were appallingly low, as one might anticipate from a child who had never handled a weapon in his life. However, it was obvious that this body had undergone training, or at least had made an effort.
"What is the purpose of this?" Nathan whispered. "Just because some system says I can, it doesn't mean I can get stronger all of a sudden."
However, a glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he spoke. Perhaps this was more than a strange hallucination. Perhaps this was his opportunity to make a change.
The voice returned, calm and mechanical: "Would you like to initiate a tutorial quest?"
Nathan's pulse spiked as he jumped. "Tutorial? Yes, of course. I suppose.
A fresh message flashed as the screen wavered:
Tutorial Quest: Prove Your Potential
Objective: Complete one hour of uninterrupted training.
Reward: +100 EXP.
Penalty: None.
Nathan's thoughts were racing as he gazed at the words. A training session of one hour? It didn't seem like a big deal. And 100 EXP... Even if it wasn't much, it was still preferable to nothing.
He looked at the wall-mounted clock. It was a little after midnight. The other kids were probably asleep because the hostel was quiet. Excellent. He didn't want to be watched as he fumbled around like an idiot.
He inhaled deeply, picked up the wooden practice sword that was resting against the closet, and left.
At night, the academy courtyard looked hauntingly gorgeous. With their windows blazing dimly with magical wards, the huge stone structures loomed like silent sentinels. The ground beneath his feet seemed to pulse with a slight hum of electricity, and the air was chilly.
Nathan located a practice field that was empty and took a position in the middle, holding the sword firmly. The simple stances and drills he had mastered in this body—nothing fancy, just enough to get by during group exercises—came to him in flashbacks. He had no one else to turn to now, though.
He raised the sword and muttered, "All right, let's do this."
That first set of swings was... awful. His arms shook under the weight of the blade, and his motions were unsteady and ungainly. His natural instincts were insufficient to compensate for his body's lack of true strength. Nevertheless, he continued, repeatedly performing the same drills.
His arms burned after ten minutes. He fought to keep his form, and sweat trickled down his face. Once more, the voice added:
"Tip: Focus on your breathing to maintain stamina."
Nathan moaned and used his sleeve to wipe his forehead. "Yes, thank you, genius, for the obvious advice."
However, he followed the voice's instructions to decrease his breathing and maintain his composure. The subsequent swings felt a little better—more controlled, less unsteady. Though it wasn't much, it was a step forward.
Nathan was on the point of passing out by the end of the hour. His legs were barely keeping him standing, and his arms felt like jelly. However, the system's display illuminated with a gratifying chime as the clock struck one:
Quest Complete: Prove Your Potential
Reward: +100 EXP.
Level Up!
Nathan's numbers increased somewhat when the screen updated, and he blinked. He felt a slight warmth spread through his body, and his Strength, Agility, and Endurance all increased by one point—a slight but discernible improvement.
With a slight smirk tugging at his lips, he whispered, "Level 2." "Not too bad."
He had hope for the first time since coming into this world. The system was authentic and functional. Perhaps, just possibly, he had a chance.
Nathan's optimism was tested the following morning. As usual, training continued, and although his statistics had somewhat improved, it was still painfully clear how far behind his classmates he was.
As Nathan jogged into the training grounds, the teacher yelled, "You're late again, Caelum." "You'll never catch up to your peers if you can't even arrive on time."
Nathan suppressed a reply, preferring to join his group. The other pupils were too preoccupied with showcasing their abilities or chatting about the impending combat trials to give him much attention.
His mood had totally soured by the end of the session. Ignoring his classmates' muttering as they filed out of the training fields, he trudged back to the dormitories.
The misgivings returned that night as he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. He had hope because of the system, but what if it wasn't enough? What if, despite his best efforts, he was destined to remain at the bottom?
Frustrated, he clinched his fists at his sides and tightened his chest. He was determined not to give up just yet. But he wasn't sure how much further he could climb because the path ahead felt unachievably steep.