Kael groaned as the morning sunlight filtered through the cracks in the wooden shutters. He rubbed his face and sat up, the soreness in his muscles serving as a constant reminder of yesterday's training.
For a moment, he stared at the rough wooden ceiling, letting himself enjoy the quiet. No chaos. Just peace.
But that peace didn't last.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," the system chimed in, its voice far too chipper for Kael's liking.
"Can you not?" Kael muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Can I not what? Greet you? How rude."
Kael rolled his eyes and opened the glowing panel that appeared in his line of sight. The usual daily quest list popped up, but something was different this time.
Daily Quests:
0/2 Quests Completed
Kael blinked. "Two? Since when is it two?"
"Hmm?" the system said, feigning innocence. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, it's always been one quest. What's with the extra one?" Kael narrowed his eyes at the glowing text. "What are you up to?"
"Me? Up to something?" The system sounded offended, though Kael could swear he detected a playful edge to its tone. "You act like I'm trying to trick you or something."
"That's because you probably are." Kael jabbed a finger at the screen. "So, what's the deal with the second quest?"
The system hesitated, just long enough to make him suspicious.
"Can't say," it said finally, its tone light but evasive. "You'll figure it out eventually. Or you won't. Either way, it'll be fun to watch."
Kael groaned, closing the panel. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"And yet, you'd be lost without me," the system quipped. "Now, go get breakfast before you start whining about how weak you are again."
Kael huffed, throwing on a clean shirt before heading out of his small room.
As Kael entered the kitchen, the smell of roasted vegetables and fresh bread hit him. His mother, Callia, was already seated at the small wooden table, arranging their modest spread of food.
"Morning," Kael said, sitting down across from her.
Callia smiled, though a hint of worry lingered in her eyes. "Morning. I hope you're not planning to skip eating again."
Kael gave her a sheepish grin. "No skipping today. Promise."
The food looked better than it had in years—or at least, it felt that way. Steamed potatoes, roasted carrots, and a loaf of coarse bread sat between them, simple but filling. Kael reached for a piece of bread, tearing it in half and slathering it with butter.
As he chewed, memories of his past life crept into his mind. Back then, food like this would've been a luxury. He could still remember the days when he and his mother had barely scraped by, eating stale scraps and watery stew.
He glanced up at Callia, who was quietly buttering her own bread. She looked healthier now—still tired from years of hard work, but not as worn down as she had been in that other life.
"This is better," Kael said suddenly.
Callia looked up, tilting her head. "What is?"
Kael gestured to the food. "This. Us. Everything."
Callia smiled softly. "I suppose it is. Though, I can't help but worry about you, Kael."
Kael blinked. "Worry about me? Why?"
"You've been pushing yourself harder and harder lately," she said, setting her bread down. "You come home exhausted every day. You're strong, but…" She trailed off, her brow furrowing.
Kael leaned back in his chair. "I'm fine, Mom. Really. You don't need to worry about me."
Callia gave him a pointed look. "Mothers always worry, Kael. It's what we do."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're worrying for no reason. I'm doing what I need to do, that's all."
"For what?" she asked softly. "What's driving you so hard?"
Kael hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table. For a moment, he considered telling her everything—about his mark, his system, and the life he'd left behind. But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, he smiled faintly. "For us," he said. "For our people. To make things better."
Callia's expression softened. "You've already done more than enough."
"Not yet," Kael said firmly. "There's still a long way to go."
After breakfast, Kael stood by the door, pulling on his boots. His mother tidied the table behind him, humming softly to herself.
"Kael," she said suddenly.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
Her eyes were warm, but her tone was serious. "Be careful out there, okay? Don't do anything reckless."
Kael grinned. "When have I ever been reckless?"
She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll be careful."
He stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air. The village was already stirring, with merchants setting up their carts and farmers heading to the fields.
As he walked down the cobblestone street, his thoughts drifted back to the previous day. He remembered the old man calling him "Lord Kael" after the boar incident. That had never happened in his past life.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. He didn't care about being called "Lord," but it was a sign of something else—respect. Something he'd never had before.
"Guess I'm doing something right," he muttered, heading toward the fields for another day of training.
Kael stood in the middle of the open field, the grass damp under his boots from the morning dew. His muscles ached faintly from the day before, but he'd long since learned to ignore the soreness.
The quest screen hovered in front of him, the faint glow of the text casting a soft light in the early morning.
Daily Quest:
Ichor Control Practice: Maintain a continuous flow of ichor for one hour. (0/60 Minutes Completed)
Daily Quest:
Pending Unlock
Kael squinted at the second quest, shaking his head. "You're really not going to tell me what this is, huh?"
"Why ruin the surprise?" the system said, its tone light and playful.
"Because it's not really a good surprise if I'm the one doing all the work."
"Ah, but isn't the mystery part of the fun?"
Kael snorted, dismissing the panel with a wave of his hand. "You have a weird definition of fun."
"And you have a weird habit of complaining," the system shot back. "Now, are you going to start training, or should I just write down 'failed' on today's report card?"
Kael rolled his eyes but dropped into a cross-legged position on the grass, his hands resting on his knees. "Fine. Let's do this."
Kael closed his eyes, blocking out the sounds of the field around him. He took a slow, deep breath, centering his focus on the flow of ichor within him.
It started as a faint warmth in his chest, like the smoldering embers of a dying fire. He let the energy spread outward, picturing it as a gentle stream trickling through his limbs.
The warmth moved slowly at first, hesitant and uneven, but Kael matched his breathing to the rhythm of the flow. Inhale. Exhale. Let it spread.
For the first ten minutes, he focused solely on maintaining the flow, smoothing out the rough patches where the ichor tended to sputter or falter.
The system stayed quiet, letting him work.
By the twenty-minute mark, Kael's shoulders were stiff, and his legs were starting to tingle from sitting still for so long. A faint itch on his neck threatened to break his concentration, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it.
The flow wavered slightly, and Kael adjusted his breathing, willing the energy to stay steady.
"Focus," he muttered to himself. "Don't lose it now."
He opened his eyes briefly, glancing at his hands. They felt warm, almost alive, with the faint glow of ichor just beneath the surface.
But maintaining the flow wasn't enough. He needed to do more.
Kael shifted his focus, letting the ichor gather in his hands. He stretched out his fingers, summoning a small flicker of flame in his palm.
The spark hovered there, steady and bright. Kael rotated his wrist, watching how the flame followed his movements. It was simple, almost too simple—but it felt like the foundation of something more.
He frowned, willing the spark to expand. The flame flared briefly before sputtering out, leaving a faint trail of smoke.
"Not quite," he muttered.
Kael tried again, this time focusing on controlling the intensity of the spark. He let the flame grow slightly larger, feeding it with a careful flow of ichor. It pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of a living thing.
"Better," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips.
After thirty minutes of experimentation, Kael stood, shaking out his legs. The ichor still hummed faintly beneath his skin, warm and responsive.
He stretched his arms overhead, rolling his neck. "Alright," he said to himself. "Let's try something new."
Kael crouched slightly, focusing the flow of ichor downward. He pictured it pooling in his legs, gathering at the soles of his boots.
At first, the warmth spread unevenly, but Kael adjusted his focus, steadying the flow. He stepped forward experimentally, willing the spark to flare beneath his foot.
The burst of energy sent him stumbling forward with a surprised yelp.
"What the—?!" Kael flailed his arms, barely catching himself before hitting the ground. He blinked, staring at the grass beneath him. "Did I just—?"
"Yes," the system said dryly. "You stumbled. Very graceful."
Kael ignored the jab, his mind racing. He crouched again, carefully recreating the sensation. This time, when he stepped forward, the flare was smoother, propelling him forward in a controlled burst of speed.
He stumbled slightly on the landing but stayed upright.
"Okay," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Kael spent the next thirty minutes refining the technique. He practiced directing the spark toward his feet, adjusting the timing and intensity of the bursts.
At first, the jumps were uneven—too strong or too weak—but Kael slowly found a rhythm. He combined small bursts with short leaps, using the flare to propel himself higher and farther than normal.
The effort left him drenched in sweat, his legs burning from the repeated strain. But with each attempt, he grew more confident, his movements smoother and more controlled.
By the end of the hour, Kael stood in the middle of the field, breathing heavily but grinning. His boots were scuffed, his shirt clung to his back, and his arms hung limply at his sides—but the progress was undeniable.
Kael collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His legs ached, his boots were scuffed, and sweat dripped down his face, but he couldn't stop grinning.
The familiar chime echoed in his mind, and a glowing panel appeared before him.
Level Up!
You have reached Level 20.
Rank Up: Ember
Kael stared at the words, his eyes widening. "Rank up! Finally!"
"Congratulations," the system said, and for once, its tone wasn't mocking—it carried a faint note of pride. "You've gone from being a spark to an ember. It's still small, but with the right care, it could grow into something unstoppable."
Kael sat up, brushing damp hair from his forehead. "An ember, huh? I'll take it."
Before he could dwell on it, another panel popped up.
Level 20 Reward:
New Skill Unlocked: Fragment of the Founding Flame
"You've finally unlocked Hestia's fighting style, that's wonderful."
Kael blinked. "I didn't take Hestia for a Goddess that would fight a lot."
"Of course she did," the system replied. "Do you think being a goddess of the hearth meant she just sat around stoking fires all day?"
Kael frowned. "Kinda, yeah."
"Ignorant as always," the system said with a sigh. "Hestia was the firstborn of Kronos and Rhea, the eldest of her siblings. When Kronos devoured her, she spent years trapped inside him, growing, observing, and—eventually—fighting to survive."
Kael's frown deepened. He'd heard myths of the gods before, but they'd never felt as real or personal as they did now.
"She wasn't strong back then," the system continued. "Not by divine standards. She was inexperienced, untrained. But she was determined. Inside Kronos, she developed her first rudimentary techniques—an instinctive, desperate style born out of necessity. It was crude, ineffective against her father's overwhelming power… but it was the beginning of her legend."
Kael leaned forward, his curiosity growing. "So… this skill. It's part of that, right? The basics she developed?"
"Exactly," the system said. "It's not even close to her full fighting style—what you've unlocked is a fragment, the foundation she built upon later. It's simple, yes, but for a human? It's more than enough to get started."
Kael grinned, stood up, and shook out his arms. "Alright, let's see what it can do."
A strange warmth flooded his limbs when Kael focused on the skill. It wasn't like the usual spark of ichor—it felt steadier, more deliberate. His stance shifted instinctively, his feet grounding themselves firmly on the earth as if drawn there by some unseen force.
"Whoa," he murmured, adjusting his posture.
"The foundation of her style emphasizes stability and endurance," the system explained. "Hestia's role as the goddess of the hearth ties her to ideas of steadiness and endurance. This fragment enhances your ability to stay rooted in battle, even when facing overwhelming force."
Kael frowned, testing the movements. He stepped forward, feeling how the skill subtly adjusted his balance, keeping him grounded even on uneven terrain. When he swung his arm experimentally, the motion felt smoother, as though the energy in his body was flowing more efficiently.
"It's… subtle," he said.
"It's meant to be," the system replied. "This isn't a flashy, fire-spewing ability. It's a foundation—a style that teaches you to hold your ground, to remain steady even in chaos. That's what Hestia stood for: the unshakable flame at the center of the home that would never go out."
Kael nodded slowly, his mind racing with possibilities. He crouched slightly, channeling his ichor into his legs and experimenting with combining the new skill with his sparks.
When he leapt, the motion felt more controlled, his landing more balanced. The skill didn't make him faster or stronger, but it amplified his stability, allowing him to push harder without losing his footing.
He swung his arms again, this time channeling ichor into his strikes. The flow was smoother now, more precise, and when he thrust his palm forward, the force of the motion felt… complete.
"It's not bad," he admitted, a grin spreading across his face. "Not bad at all."
"It also has a special attribute," the system added.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Special attribute?"
"Hestia's style is tied to the hearth—fire, warmth, and protection. This fragment carries a subtle effect: whenever you hold your ground for long enough, the ichor within you burns brighter, replenishing your stamina and fueling your next strike."
Kael's eyes widened. "So, if I stay steady, I get stronger?"
"In a way," the system said. "The longer you endure, the more power you'll have to unleash. It's not something you can rely on completely—it's subtle, and you'll need to train it—but for a human, it's more than enough to make a difference."
Kael clenched his fists, excitement bubbling in his chest. "Alright, let's put it to the test."
Kael spent the next hour testing the skill's limits. He started with basic movements, focusing on keeping his stance steady as he practiced punches, kicks, and dodges. The adjustments the fragment made to his balance and energy flow were subtle but noticeable.
When he combined it with his ichor abilities, the effects became even more pronounced. His sparks felt sharper, more deliberate, and when he practiced his jumps, he found himself landing with perfect control, even on uneven ground.
The special attribute of the skill activated once or twice during his training, flooding him with a brief surge of warmth whenever he held a defensive position for long enough. It wasn't much, but it gave him an edge—just enough to keep going when his body wanted to quit.
By the time he finally collapsed onto the grass, his shirt was soaked with sweat, and his muscles burned from the effort. But the grin on his face was brighter than ever.
"This… this is good," he said, panting.
"It's a start," the system replied. "And if you keep training, it'll become something even greater."
Kael closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the skill linger as he caught his breath. "I'm ready for it," he said softly. "Whatever comes next… I'll be ready."