I woke up the next morning, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I stretched. Before me sat a glowing, shimmering interface. It was so quiet it hardly hummed but had come this time with an incredible amount more detail than I had previously encountered.
Liberation System
Lynt
Strength: 3
Dexterity: 4
Agility: 4
Constitution: 2
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 7
Achievements may give debuffs.
I looked at it, feeling my curiosity spark. As I gazed at the glowing display, another menu opened beneath it, listing all these skills and actions. Each one of them was cataloged meticulously.
Cooking: 0
Leatherworking: 0
Leadership: 0
Foraging: 0
Reading: 5
Magic: 1
Mathematics: 2
Walking: 2
Running: 2
Jumping: 1
.
Everything, even the most mundane acts. Jumping? Walking? Ridiculous, but I got the gist as I went through it, started to like the design of the System. Not measuring capability only but revealing potential.
I spent hours studying the interface before experimenting. I tapped my finger on the floating screen hoping that would bring out something. Focusing on "Reading," a short description came:
Reading: ability to understand and interpret written text. Improves with practice, study, and understanding. Higher levels allow for greater speed and better retention.
My head spun at all the possibilities. If the System tracked and improved even mundane skills, how far could it take me? I closed the interface with a gesture, determined to find out.
For the next week, I devoted myself to learning the System. Every day was a test. The improvements were measured through practice, study, and meditation. Each minor gain felt as large as the huge successes. I sat cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom, concentrating my mind on mana, feeling the gentle throb of the power in the room. These endeavours paid off with slight but constant improvements in my "Magic" skill by the Freedom System.
At meal times, I could see how raising utensils or walking to the dining hall added, dimly, to physical stats like "Strength" and "Walking." It was humbling and exhilarating to see progress in the minutiae of daily life.
"Qwuine, look at this!" I cried one morning, pointing at an empty space where she, of course, could not see the System.
She was combing my hair as she patted me indulgently. "What bilge are you spouting now, little brainiac?"
I quickly said, "I don't know," and jerked myself free from the wide smile which felt too big to hold inside anymore. It was far too soon to share it all. Her teachings were indispensable to me; she taught books, prompted me with very sharp questions, and sketched out spell circuits. Each lesson with her was like putting the missing piece of the puzzle.
That night, over supper, I went to my father.
"Father," I said, trying to sound as off-hand as possible. "Will you teach me the family's art of war?" you asked.
He raised an eyebrow. "The Transcendental Path is no casual discipline, Lynt. It is one of discipline and patience. Are you certain?"
"Yes," I said firmly. "I want to learn."
He looked at me for such a long time before nodding. "Very well. Come to the courtyard at dawn tomorrow".
The next morning, the chill of the air hit my cheeks as I made my way into the courtyard. Father was standing there in simple training clothes, his backbone straight and unyielding.
"The Transcendental Path," he began, "is an art born of necessity. Our ancestor, a peasant, built it from rags and fragments of techniques stolen and learned in the fires of survival. Generations of growth have nurtured it, swallowing the knowledge of countless disciplines; it is as much a dance as it is a battle.".
I watched him in awe. His movements flowed like water; they were hypnotic, almost, yet the strikes were accurate, powerful, and unpredictable. It was like he wove chaos into rhythm, never repeating a single motion. Dummies shattered under his strikes; yet he did not falter for a split second, and each attack blended into the next.
"You see the beauty," he said, his voice steady. "But to master it, you must first learn the basics. Come."
He took me through the first stances: a low, grounded position meant to maintain balance; a sweeping motion that felt more like a dance than combat. The first steps were deceptively simple, but my legs burned with exertion after only a few repetitions.
"Good," said Father after the first session, his face unreadable. "But don't forget that the Path is more than just body strength. The mind must be sharp and determination unrelenting. Practice each morning."
I devoted myself to training with the same passion I gave to my studies. Every day, I learned more. Father explained how the Path demanded flexibility, reading one's opponents' intentions, and using their weaknesses. He taught me feints and counters, how to move in unpredictable ways so that enemies lose their balance. By the end of the week, I barely scratched the surface, but I felt a spark of progress.
I went back to bed, and I did it the next night and the next; every night since I first used the System I'd check those stats again:
Strength: 4
Dexterity: 5
Agility: 5
Constitution: 3
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 7
Cooking: 0
Leatherworking: 0
Leadership: 1
Foraging: 0
Reading: 7
Magic: 3
Mathematics: 3
Walking: 4
Running: 3
Jumping: 2
....etc
The numbers all changed, but by tiny margins. Those slight changes spread modest satisfaction across my chest, if only "Leadership" improved by a full point because sometimes I attempted to take charge in these small groups or argued with Qwuine.
So sitting down and closing System and quiet determination sank in as a resolve set upon me and that world great, big all was outside with great potential all this injustice going without a spoken voice. Here started my long way, the each step told itself, but word by every learned lesson each changed that persona within me toward who I must grow to become.
It was not just a tool, but a reflection of my growth and a guide toward the liberation I sought—not for myself, but for the world around me.