"Akira. Open my status."
The familiar screen glowed. My eyes went straight to the bottom. Unallocated Stat Points: 10.
My starting capital. Ten points to begin the reconstruction of Kalyth von Eldoria.
My current stats were pathetic. STR 2, VIT 3, AGI 4, INT 5, WIS 5. The slightly higher mental stats were likely a remnant of Miku, the 21-year-old office worker, merged with Kalyth, a duke's daughter who had at least been educated. But my physical stats were those of a starved child.
'Okay, think. What do I need most right now? Strength is for breaking things and hitting hard. Vitality is for taking hits and stamina. Agility is for speed and evasion. Intelligence and Wisdom are for magic and tactics, but I can't afford to focus on them yet. My mother is dying. I need to be a weapon, not a scholar.'
The most immediate problem was getting out of that room and past the guards. That screamed agility. Speed was life. But once I got to the dungeons, I'd need the strength to fight or break things, and the vitality to endure. A balanced approach was best.
'Four points into Agility, to make evasion my primary defense. Three into Strength, to give my attacks some bite. And three into Vitality, to increase my HP and let me train longer.'
"Akira. Allocate my stat points. Four to Agility, three to Strength, three to Vitality."
[Acknowledged. Allocating points.]
STR: 2 -> 5
VIT: 3 -> 6
AGI: 4 -> 8
A wave of energy washed through my small body. It was a subtle but profound change. My muscles felt denser, coiled with a newfound potential. My lungs seemed to expand, and the slight ache of malnourishment in my bones eased. My HP ticked up.
HP: 15/60
It was a small step, but it was the first step. And it was mine.
Now for the hard part.
"Akira. Set gravity to 1.5 times the standard. And for now… just give me an open floor. No constructs. Not yet."
[Gravity calibrated to 1.5g. Environment set.]
The change was instantaneous. My body, which had felt light and buoyant a moment ago, suddenly felt heavy. My knees buckled under the new weight, and I had to plant my feet to keep from falling. Each breath felt like more of an effort. Just standing here was a workout.
A cruel, determined grin spread across my face.
'Perfect.'
This was how it began.
The first week of my new life was hell.
There was no day or night in the Chamber, only the endless, oppressive white. I measured time by the screaming of my muscles and the rhythm of my own ragged breaths. I started with the basics, the things a PE teacher would have you do. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats. Running.
Under 1.5 times gravity, each movement was agony.
The first push-up, my skinny arms trembled violently, unable to support even my own meager weight. I collapsed face-first onto the nonexistent floor. The impact felt real. The shame felt realer.
I pushed myself up, my teeth gritted. Again. My arms shook. Sweat, cold and stinging, dripped into my eyes. I managed one. Then a second before collapsing again, my chest heaving.
The running was worse. I forced my legs to move, one after the other, in a clumsy, shuffling jog. It felt like I was running through thick mud. After less than a minute, my lungs were burning, screaming for air that felt too thin, too unsatisfying. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I ran until my vision started to black out at the edges, then collapsed, my body a trembling, useless heap.
But here, in the Chamber, was the magic. The damage wasn't permanent. After a few minutes of writhing on the ground in a pool of my own sweat and tears, the worst of the pain would fade. The system-regulated environment wouldn't let me die or tear a muscle permanently. It would only let me suffer right up to the absolute limit.
And then, I would stand up and do it again.
This was the core of my [Saiyan Potential] skill. It wasn't just about near-death experiences in combat. It was about pushing my body past its breaking point, over and over, and letting it rebuild itself stronger.
Every time I collapsed, every time I pushed through the pain to do one more rep, I could feel it. A faint warmth spreading through my muscles. A tiny, almost imperceptible increase in my own strength.
By the end of the first week, I could do ten push-ups in a row. I could hold a squat for a full minute. I could run for five minutes straight before my lungs gave out. To the warriors of this world, it was nothing. To the girl who had been starving in a storeroom a week ago, it was a miracle forged from pure, unadulterated spite.
The second week, I introduced a new kind of pain.
"Akira. Summon a training construct. Level 1. Basic Wooden Dummy."
[Construct summoned.]
A humanoid figure made of dark, polished wood materialized a few feet away. It was featureless, but its proportions were that of an adult male. It stood perfectly still.
"Activate combat routine. Basic."
The dummy's limbs creaked as it shifted into a simple fighting stance. It had no weapon, and neither did I. This would be a battle of fists.
I circled it, my new Agility of 8 making my movements feel light and fluid despite the gravity. I remembered bar fights from movies, fighting game combos from my past life. I threw a punch.
My tiny fist connected with its wooden chest with a dull thud. It did nothing. The dummy, in return, swung a rigid wooden arm. I was fast enough to see it coming, but too inexperienced to react properly. I tried to duck, but it clipped me on the shoulder.
Pain, sharp and splitting, exploded from the point of impact. I cried out and stumbled back, clutching my arm. The system registered the hit. My HP dropped.
HP: 52/60
The dummy advanced, its movements stiff but relentless. I dodged and weaved, my mind racing. My attacks were useless. My defense was clumsy. For hours, it beat me. It knocked me down, swept my legs, and landed solid, painful blows to my body. My HP dipped dangerously low, into the red, time and time again.
Each time, I would scramble away, wait for the Chamber to heal the worst of the bruises, and then charge back in, screaming in frustration.
This wasn't about winning. This was about learning. Learning how to move, how to anticipate, how to take a hit. My body became a canvas of phantom bruises. But with every blow I took, with every failed punch I threw, I was collecting data.
The third week, I began to build my weapon.
I sat cross-legged in the oppressive gravity, the dummy standing inert before me. My body ached, but my mind was sharp. Brute force was failing. My stats were too low. I needed technique. I needed a skill.
"Akira, activate [Technique Weaver]."
[Technique Weaver is now active. Please select the base concepts for synthesis.]
A new window appeared, this one a blank schematic. I closed my eyes, replaying the last week of failure in my mind. My clumsy punches. My desperate dodges. The simple, efficient swings of the dummy.
'Analyze: My forward jab. Analyze: My sidestep dodge. The goal is to combine offense and defense into a single, fluid motion.'
I fed the concepts into the system. The schematic glowed. Lines of data and runic symbols swirled between the two concepts.
[Analysis complete. Base movements are rudimentary but compatible. Synthesis requires a core principle. Please define the desired outcome.]
'Efficiency,' I thought, my voice firm in my mind. 'Minimum movement for maximum effect. Strike while evading. Use the enemy's momentum against them. A reactive style.'
[Principle accepted. Synthesizing skill… Synthesis complete.]
PING!
New Skill Created: [Flowing Step]
Rank: F
Type: Active (Martial Art)
Cost: 2 MP per activation.
Description: A basic combat technique combining a quick, evasive sidestep with a simultaneous counter-jab aimed at an opponent's opening. Deals 110% of user's STR as damage.
It was beautiful. It wasn't powerful, it wasn't flashy, but it was mine. I had taken my own failure and forged it into a weapon.
The fourth week was the reaping.
I stood before the Level 1 dummy, the 1.5g pressing down on me like a physical blanket. But this time, it felt less like an oppression and more like a comforting weight.
"Activate."
The dummy lurched into motion, swinging its arm in the same predictable arc. But now, I saw it differently. I saw the opening.
'[Flowing Step]!'
I channeled the 2 MP. A faint blue light enveloped my body for a split second. Instead of just dodging, my body moved with an alien grace I didn't know it possessed. I sidestepped, the dummy's fist whistling past my ear, and in the same fluid motion, my own punch shot out, striking it square in its torso.
CRACK.
A spiderweb of fractures appeared on the dummy's wooden chest. It staggered back.
A grin, the first genuine, predatory grin of my new life, spread across my face.
It worked.
For the rest of the week, I danced. I fought the Level 1 dummy until I could defeat it without taking a single hit. Then I had Akira summon two at once. Then I graduated to the Level 2 construct, one made of reinforced stone that hit harder and moved faster.
It was a brutal, relentless grind. But every victory, every perfectly executed [Flowing Step], every level-up notification, was a shot of pure, addictive ecstasy.
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 2!]
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 3!]
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 4!]
With each level, a wave of warmth washed over me, healing my wounds and refilling my stamina. I poured all my new stat points into STR and AGI, honing my body into a small, sharp blade.
After what felt like an eternity of pain and progress one month in the Chamber, just under an hour in the real world I finally stood victorious over the shattered remains of a Level 3 Stone Golem construct.
I was breathing heavily, my small chest rising and falling. My body was covered in phantom aches, but it was thrumming with power. I felt… strong. Not strong enough to challenge a knight, but strong enough to fight for my own life. Strong enough to begin.
"Akira. Show me my status."
[As you wish, Master.]
------------------------------------
STATUS
Name: Kalyth von Eldoria
Level: 5
Class: N/A
Race: Human
Age: 7
Title: Goddess's Chosen
HP: 110/110
MP: 45/45
--ATTRIBUTES--
STR: 12
VIT: 8
AGI: 15
INT: 5
WIS: 5
LCK: ??
Unallocated Stat Points: 0
--SKILLS--
[Flowing Step] (F-Rank)
[Saiyan Potential] (MAX)
[Technique Weaver] (Lvl 1)
[Akira's Library] (Active)
[Chamber of Ascendance] (Active)
------------------------------------
The numbers were still low in the grand scheme of things, but the improvement was astronomical. My stats had doubled or tripled. I had a combat skill. I had five levels under my belt.
I was ready. The first part of the quest, attaining sufficient strength, was complete.
'It's time,' I thought, my heart beginning to pound with a mixture of anticipation and dread. It was time to return to the real world. Time to save my mother.
"Akira. End the training session. Prepare to exit the Chamber."
[Acknowledged, Master. Deactivating Chamber of Ascendance. Exterior temporal synchronization in 5… 4… 3…]
The white world around me began to thin, the dim, dusty reality of the storeroom bleeding back into existence.
[2… 1…]
Just as the world was about to solidify, Akira's voice cut through the countdown, its synthesized tone suddenly sharp, urgent, and stripped of all formality.
[!ALERT! Master, I am detecting a life sign signature rapidly approaching your location on the exterior. Analysis of the mana pattern indicates it is your half-sister, Liana von Eldoria.]
My blood ran cold. Liana. Here? Why?
[She is not alone.]