Excitement surged Lennox's veins.
But before he let himself get carried away, he remembered something.
There was one thing he hadn't checked in a while.
The system.
With a single mental command, Lennox summoned the system interface.
A translucent screen flickered into view, runes shifting and rearranging themselves into clearly labeled tabs:
☰ Mystic Tavern Master's Info
☰ Tavern Accounts
☰ Tavern Facilities
☰ Tavern Functions
Lennox ignored the rest and immediately clicked on Mystic Tavern Master's Info.
A new text box materialized before his eyes.
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Mystic Tavern Master's Info
Name: Lennox Morgan
Race: Human (Secondary-Stage Apprentice)
Age: 17
Stats:
Physique: 6.9
Dexterity: 7.6
Intelligence: 7.7
Energy (Mana/Chi): 0 (Not Awakened Yet)
-----
Lennox's eyes flicked over his stats, his mind quickly processing the changes.
His Physique had increased—not just by a little, but significantly.
His Dexterity had risen as well, his movements feeling faster, sharper.
Even his Intelligence had improved—a likely result of both the Titanbone Method's mental discipline and the focus-enhancing effects of the Emberbrew Ale.
But most importantly—
His status now officially labeled him as a Secondary-Stage Apprentice.
Lennox exhaled sharply, the weight of that realization settling over him.
He had advanced.
He wasn't the same as he had been just a few weeks ago.
His body was stronger. His mind was sharper.
He could feel the changes in every fiber of his being.
And yet…
What did these numbers actually mean?
Lennox frowned slightly, his curiosity piqued.
After a brief glance at Garrick—who had resumed his own training—he decided to ask the system.
"System, explain my stats."
The response came immediately, the system's voice resonating telepathically in his mind.
[Attributes represent your physical and mental capabilities compared to an average adult human male.]
[An untrained, non-martial individual typically has an average of 1 in all attributes—Physique, Dexterity, and Intelligence.]
Lennox's brows rose slightly. So, a normal man had a Physique of 1, a Dexterity of 1, and an Intelligence of 1.
That meant…
[Your current Physique of 6.9 means you are nearly seven times stronger, tougher, and more robust than an average adult male.]
[Your Dexterity of 7.6 means your speed, reflexes, and coordination surpass an average human by nearly eight times.]
[Your Intelligence of 7.7 represents your enhanced cognitive functions, learning speed, memory retention, and overall mental clarity.]
Lennox's eyes widened slightly. That much of a difference?
He had expected improvements, but seeing them quantified like this made the reality hit harder.
If he was already this strong as just a secondary-stage apprentice, then what about those further along the path?
"Then," he asked, "how do attributes typically scale across the Apprentice Realm?"
The system's response came in a calm, measured tone.
[Primary-Stage Apprentice: Average attributes range between 2 to 5.]
[Secondary-Stage Apprentice: Average attributes range between 6 to 10.]
[Advanced-Stage Apprentice: Average attributes range between 11 to 15.]
[Peak-Stage Apprentice: Average attributes range between 16 to 20.]
[Peak-stage apprentices may begin awakening faint traces of chi or mana, making them significantly stronger than others in their rank.]
Lennox nodded slowly, absorbing the information.
So every jump in stage meant a drastic improvement in physical and mental capability.
No wonder a peak-stage apprentice was considered an entire league above lower-stage apprentices.
It also meant that if he reached the upper limits of the apprentice realm, he would be close to four times as strong as he was now.
His mind was already whirring with the implications when another thought struck him.
"Then what about true warriors? Or mages?"
There was a pause.
Then the system's voice returned, but this time, its tone was… different.
[You are not yet at a level to know such information.]
And just like that, the system fell silent.
Lennox's lips pressed into a thin line. Not at a level to know?
Did that mean the difference between apprentices and true warriors was so vast that he couldn't even comprehend it yet?
Unsatisfied, he turned toward Garrick, who was still training at the far end of the backyard.
Walking over, he asked, "Garrick, how strong is a Rank One warrior or mage?"
The burly warrior stopped mid-motion, then gave Lennox a sidelong glance.
"Compared to an apprentice?" Garrick's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable weight behind his words.
Lennox nodded.
Garrick's answer was simple.
"Like a common ant facing an alpha wolf."
Lennox blinked.
Garrick turned fully toward him now, his expression unreadable. "A true Rank One warrior or mage is on an entirely different level. It doesn't matter if you're a primary-stage apprentice or a peak-stage apprentice— to them, you are nothing."
Lennox swallowed.
That was… a brutal comparison.
"But surely," he started, "a peak-stage apprentice—"
Garrick cut him off.
"If you ever meet a Rank One warrior who is hostile toward you, run."
Lennox stiffened.
"That's my advice," Garrick said, his tone absolute. "Don't fight. Don't provoke. Just run."
The warning lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Lennox's fists clenched involuntarily. He had expected a gap, yes. But not like this.
To be seen as nothing in the eyes of true warriors…
His heart pounded in his chest.
An alpha wolf and a common ant!
That was the difference.
He had a long way to go.
He was about to ask another question when—
Garrick wrinkled his nose slightly.
"You stink," the warrior said flatly. "Go shower."
Lennox paused—then realized he was still covered in the disgusting impurity discharge.
A grimace twisted his face.
"…Right."
Without another word, he turned on his heel and sprinted into the tavern.
-----
Garrick watched as Lennox vanished through the tavern's doors, the boy's hurried footsteps fading into the distance.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he turned his gaze back to the empty backyard that had long become their training ground.
That kid…
Complicated emotions stirred within him—surprise, curiosity, and something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
Lennox's progress over the past fourteen days had been nothing short of incredible.
Even among gifted warriors, breaking through to the secondary stage of the apprentice realm in less than half a month was rare—borderline unheard of.
And yet, he had done it.
Garrick tightened his fists, feeling the familiar coiling of his own refined strength. He had seen countless warriors train, fight, struggle, and fall. He knew the path of power was one paved with blood, sweat, and relentless effort.
So what made Lennox different?
Was it just the Emberbrew Ale?
No. That wasn't it.
Other so-called geniuses had treasures as well—body-strengthening potions, mystical elixirs, inherited techniques passed down for generations.
Resources made a difference, but talent… talent was something else entirely.
And Lennox had it.
Genius.
The word sat heavily in his mind.
He had suspected it before, but now, after seeing Lennox push through the Titanbone Method at such a ridiculous pace, there was no denying it.
A small, rare smile tugged at Garrick's lips.
Maybe the entity behind the Mystic Tavern had been right.
Maybe… Lennox truly was the one who could help him.
The one who could resolve the core issue that had plagued him for so long.
The one who could save his home world.
His fingers clenched at the thought, his expression darkening slightly.
His world—the place he had been forced to leave behind—was teetering on the brink of destruction.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
Not yet.
But if Lennox really was…
Garrick exhaled sharply, shaking his head. It was too early to tell.
He couldn't allow himself to dwell on what-ifs.
For now, his task was clear—ensure that the boy continued to grow stronger.
With that thought, he relaxed his stance, rolling the tension out of his shoulders. He had spent enough time training for the morning. Now, he had something more important to do.
Prepare a meal.
Because if there was one thing Lennox needed after breaking through—it was proper nutrition.
But as he mentally ran through what ingredients he had available, a thought struck him.
When was the last time I restocked?
It had been days—perhaps over a week—since he had last gone out to buy new supplies and hunt fresh game. The tavern's stock was still decent, but he was running low on certain key ingredients, and soon enough, the meat would have to be replenished.
More importantly, now that Lennox had broken through, there was something else to consider.
For the past two weeks, Garrick had deliberately avoided hunting the stronger creatures in the outskirts of the Ebonridge Mountains. The reason was simple—Lennox's body wouldn't have been able to handle them.
Some of the more powerful beasts—the pseudo-rank-one creatures—had meat infused with faint traces of Beast Chi, the residual energy of a monster's evolving core. If Lennox had consumed that meat before strengthening his foundation, the potent energy would have been too much for his body to process. It could have led to instability in his training or even a failed breakthrough.
But now…
Now, his body was ready.
Garrick could finally consider hunting some of the stronger beasts. The pseudo-rank-one creatures were just below true Rank One magical beasts, but they were far from weak. They had already surpassed the limits of common magical creatures, beginning the slow and arduous process of forming their beast cores.
If left alone, some of them would take months—perhaps even years—to fully ascend into Rank One beasts. In the meantime, they were powerful but still within the reach of experienced peak-stage Rank Zero adventurers. Many of the magic beast cores sold in Greywater actually came from these pseudo-rank-one creatures, though the adventurers who hunted them often assumed they had taken down true Rank One beasts.
The entity behind the tavern collects these cores as well, Garrick mused, his brows furrowing slightly. But why?
It wasn't his concern—at least, not for now. What mattered was that these creatures provided the best possible nourishment for Lennox's next phase of training.
Decision made, Garrick turned on his heel and strode toward the tavern. He would prepare a meal first—something rich in protein and restorative properties. But after that, he would head out.
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