The days that followed blurred into a rhythm of sweat, steel, and simmering determination. Liam woke before dawn, the first rays of amber light finding him already in his chambers, pushing his body through a series of exercises he'd learned in his past life – stretches to improve flexibility, core work for stability. All the while, Dragonheart Vigor hummed faintly within him, a gentle siphon on his mana, the warmth of it a constant companion. He focused on the Dragonheart Refinement, visualizing the draconic essence fortifying him, imagining his vitality and endurance hardening like tempered steel with each passing moment, each controlled expenditure of mana.
His progress in the training yard was undeniable. Sir Lucas, initially just suspicious, now watched Liam with an intensity that bordered on disbelief. The boy's stamina was monstrous. Where he once collapsed after a few laps, he now ran the full ten kilometers without faltering, his breath evening out far quicker than it should. His sword strikes, once clumsy, now carried a weight and precision that spoke of years, not days, of practice.
One morning, after Liam completed his vertical and diagonal slashes with almost metronomic consistency, Lucas broke the routine.
"Enough with the dummies, young lord," the knight commander said, his voice a low rumble. He picked up a blunted practice longsword, its weight still considerable. "Today, you spar with me."
Liam's heart gave a little jump. Sparring with Lucas was a different beast entirely. The knight was a 4-Star Swordsman, a veteran of countless skirmishes and duels. Even with a blunted blade, the danger was real.
"Are you sure, Sir?" Liam asked, feigning a touch of youthful trepidation he didn't entirely feel. Inside, a thrill ignited. This was a true test.
"Do I look unsure?" Lucas retorted, settling into a relaxed but ready stance. "Defend yourself. Or try to."
Liam activated Dragonheart Vigor, directing the flow of mana towards Agility. He needed speed more than anything. The familiar panel showed his Agility jump by +5. He mirrored Lucas's stance, his borrowed experience screaming warnings and opportunities.
Lucas attacked first, a deceptively simple thrust aimed at Liam's chest. It was fast, precise, a textbook move. The Liam of fifteen would have been impaled, practice sword or not. But this Liam, guided by a future self and augmented by draconic power, sidestepped with a swiftness that surprised even himself. The tip of Lucas's sword hissed past his ribs.
He didn't just dodge; he used the momentum, flowing into a low parry and attempting a quick riposte to Lucas's exposed flank. Lucas, however, was no training dummy. He recovered instantly, his own blade a blur as he deflected Liam's counter, the clang of steel echoing in the yard.
The spar became a dance of shadows and steel. Liam, drawing on every ounce of his past life's skill, fought defensively, using his enhanced agility to evade Lucas's more powerful blows. He focused on parries, on redirection, on surviving. He knew he couldn't overpower the knight commander, not yet.
Lucas pressed his attack, his movements economical and powerful. He tested Liam's guard from every angle, his hazel eyes sharp, missing nothing. He saw the unnatural speed, the surprisingly sophisticated footwork, the way Liam anticipated moves a novice shouldn't even comprehend.
After a grueling ten minutes, Liam, panting, managed a risky disengage, creating a few feet of space. His muscles burned, his mana was depleting rapidly, but he was still standing.
Lucas lowered his sword, his chest heaving slightly. A sheen of sweat covered his brow. He stared at Liam, not with anger, but with a profound, unsettling curiosity.
"You've been holding back a great deal, young lord," Lucas said, his voice quiet but carrying immense weight. "Or you've had an epiphany of… celestial proportions."
Liam wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "I've merely been applying myself, Sir Lucas. As you and Father instructed." He kept his tone respectful, devoid of any hint of the turmoil within him.
"Applying yourself," Lucas repeated, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He shook his head slowly. "The forms you use… some are standard, yes. But others… I haven't seen some of those maneuvers since the border wars with the Krell TRIBES, and even then, only from seasoned scouts. Where, Liam, did a boy who preferred books on fantastical beasts to sword manuals suddenly learn the Krellish Weasel-Step?"
Liam's mind raced. He'd slipped. In the heat of the spar, an old reflex had surfaced. "I… I might have seen it illustrated in one of the older scrolls in the library, Sir. I found the footwork… intriguing." It was a pathetically weak lie.
Lucas's gaze didn't waver. "Intriguing. Yes." He sheathed his practice sword with a decisive click. "Your dedication is… remarkable, young lord. Continue to apply yourself. But remember, some skills are earned through blood and time. Shortcuts often have hidden tolls."
The knight's words hung in the air, a veiled warning and a reluctant acknowledgment. He walked away, leaving Liam alone in the yard, the phantom sting of the spar still tingling on his skin. He knows, Liam thought. He doesn't know how, but he knows this isn't normal.
The urgency of the Vangoria situation spurred Liam to the library. He needed more than just enhanced patrols; he needed intelligence. Under the watchful, if silent, gaze of Maggie, he delved into maps of the Southern Reaches and the Old King's Road. He searched for records of bandit activity, political tensions involving the Vangoria family, anything that might hint at the source of the assassination plot.
His System's Codex had partially unlocked the [Regions of the Sandoian Continent] section after his first quest, but the information was general. He needed specifics.
He found mentions of the Serpent's Teeth, a notorious bandit group known to operate in the foothills bordering the Old King's Road, but their methods were typically robbery, not political assassination. Still, they were a threat to account for.
As he pored over a dusty tome detailing trade disputes from a decade prior, Maggie approached his table, a slim, leather-bound volume in her hand.
"Perhaps this might be of more… specific interest, young lord," she said, her voice a dry rustle. She placed the book before him. It was untitled, its cover worn smooth with age.
Liam looked up, surprised. "Thank you, Maggie. What is it?"
"A collection of observations," she said cryptically. "From a former captain of your House's guard, detailing less… official histories of the roads and the families that travel them. Some entries pertain to the Southern Reaches."
He opened it. The script was faded, the ink blotched in places, but it was a treasure trove of rumors, observations on lesser-known mountain passes, descriptions of insignia used by clandestine groups, and even notes on preferred poisons in certain regions.
"This is… invaluable," Liam breathed.
Maggie gave a rare, thin smile. "Knowledge takes many forms, young lord. Not all of it is found in gilded histories. Sometimes, it whispers from the margins." She retreated to her desk, leaving Liam with the unsettling feeling that the old librarian saw far more than she let on.
He spent hours with the captain's journal, cross-referencing its contents with the official maps. One entry caught his eye: a small, almost overlooked note about a splinter faction of the Serpent's Teeth, more ruthless, more secretive, known only as the 'Shadow Vipers.' Their calling card? A rare, fast-acting neurotoxin derived from the Nightbloom desert flower, a poison that matched the description Vorian had once casually mentioned regarding a 'political inconvenience' he'd dealt with years ago in his own territory.
A cold dread, mixed with a grim sense of confirmation, settled in Liam's stomach. This was it. This was the lead he needed.
His attention also turned to Sarah. The locked 'Empathic Healing' skill was a constant puzzle. He began observing her more closely, looking for any sign, any flicker.
One afternoon, while carrying a heavy tray laden with his parents' afternoon tea, a young kitchen boy, barely ten, tripped on a loose floorboard in the main corridor. The tray went flying; porcelain shattered, hot tea splashed. The boy cried out, clutching his arm where a shard of a teacup had sliced his skin.
Sarah, who was nearby polishing a suit of armor, rushed over instantly. "Oh, you poor thing!" she exclaimed, her usual composure momentarily forgotten.
Liam, who had been passing by on his way from the library, stopped to watch, his senses heightened.
Sarah knelt beside the boy, her hand instinctively reaching for his bleeding arm. Liam saw it then – a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of pale blue light around her fingers for less than a second before it vanished. The boy's crying softened almost immediately, his pained expression easing slightly, though the cut still bled.
"There, there, it's not so bad," Sarah soothed, quickly tearing a strip from her apron to bind the wound. "Let's get you to Cook; she'll have something for that."
She helped the boy up, her face etched with genuine concern. Liam's System panel for Sarah flickered briefly in his vision, the 'Empathic Healing (Locked)' text pulsing once before settling.
It reacted, Liam realized, his heart pounding. Even locked, there's a response to distress, to injury. He felt a surge of protectiveness towards Sarah, mixed with a burgeoning hope. If her skill could be unlocked… what could she achieve? But the thought of deliberately putting her in harm's way to trigger it was abhorrent. There had to be another way.
Later, he found her alone, re-polishing the same breastplate, her earlier kindness replaced by a quiet focus.
"Sarah," he began gently, "that was quick thinking with young Tom. You seem to have a natural touch for calming people."
She looked up, a faint blush on her cheeks. "It was nothing, m'lord. Just… didn't like to see him hurting."
"Have you ever considered learning more about healing? Herbal remedies, perhaps?" Liam probed, trying to sound casual.
Sarah shook her head. "No, my lord. My place is here, serving House Lithia. Besides," she added with a small, self-deprecating smile, "I'm probably too clumsy. I'd likely mix up the potions and poison someone."
Liam didn't push. But the image of that fleeting blue light remained etched in his mind.
The System, too, offered new insights. One evening, as Liam meditated, focusing on the flow of Dragonheart Vigor, the second "???" beneath its description finally resolved:
• Draconic Senses (Passive - Latent): Prolonged immersion in draconic mana gradually awakens dormant sensory acuity. When Dragonheart Vigor is active, hearing, smell, and a primal instinct for danger are subtly enhanced. The more mana converted, the more potent these senses become.
Heightened senses. Another powerful tool. He was no longer just a regressed boy playing at being a warrior; he was becoming something… more.
A few days later, Lord Baren summoned Liam to his private study. The room was spartan, dominated by maps and weapon racks, reflecting the Lord of the North's practical nature.
"Sit, Liam," Baren said, his voice less stern than usual. He gestured to a simple wooden chair.
Liam sat, his posture straight.
Baren regarded him for a long moment, his steel-gray eyes appraising. "Sir Lucas reports… significant improvement in your training. He also reports… anomalies."
Liam met his father's gaze. "I am doing my best to meet your expectations, Father."
"Your 'best' has undergone a rather dramatic transformation," Baren said, a hint of dry humor in his tone. He leaned forward. "I will not ask for explanations you are clearly unwilling to give, Liam. But know this: House Lithia faces challenging times. Our neighbors watch, some with envy, some with malice. Whatever strength you have found, whatever path you now walk, ensure it serves this House. True strength is not just in the arm, but in the will, in the character."
He paused, then continued, "The Vangoria alliance is important. More important than you might have realized before. Their coastal access and trade networks would bolster our position significantly, especially with the unrest stirring in the capital."
Liam's ears perked up. "Unrest, Father?"
Baren waved a dismissive hand. "Whispers. Always whispers when the King's health is failing. For now, focus on your duties here. Your mother is pleased with your change in demeanor. See that you do not disappoint her."
It wasn't exactly a heart-to-heart, but it was the closest Liam had ever come to one with his stoic father. There was a grudging approval there, a cautious hope. It strengthened Liam's resolve.
As the days dwindled, the mansion buzzed with preparations for the Vangoria arrival. Only one week remained. Liam's nights were spent studying the captain's journal and the maps, cross-referencing them with his fragmented memories of Vorian's veiled boasts. He had identified three potential ambush points along the Old King's Road where the Shadow Vipers, if they were indeed the culprits, might strike.
His training with Dragonheart Vigor continued relentlessly. He could feel the subtle but permanent increase in his Vitality and Endurance, a resilience that went beyond mere muscle. His senses, too, felt sharper when the skill was active – distant sounds were clearer, the scent of pine from the nearby forest more distinct.
Then, as he was reviewing his notes one evening, the System chimed.
[New SubQuest: Silent Sentinels]
[Difficulty: Normal]
Quest Description:
• Identify and neutralize the assassin threat to the Vangoria convoy before they reach Lithian territory.
• Ensure no harm comes to Lord Gareth or Lady Narine.
• Optional: Capture a Shadow Viper alive for interrogation.
[Rewards]
• +5 to All Stats
• 1000 EXP
• A-Rank Weapon Selection Voucher
• Title: Protector of the Innocent
[Penalty for Failure]
• Death of the Vangoria Family.
• Loss of House Lithia's honor and influence.
• -5 to All Stats.
• Vorian's plot advances.
Liam stared at the panel, his jaw tightening. The stakes were impossibly high. "Neutralize the threat before they reach our territory?" That meant acting alone, or with minimal, clandestine help. He couldn't officially mobilize House Lithia's guards without revealing his knowledge, which would raise too many questions.
He looked at the optional objective. Capture a Shadow Viper alive. That would be the key to unraveling Vorian's broader schemes.
A grim smile touched his lips. "Challenge accepted." The boy was gone. The Dragon System Sovereign was beginning to rise.
[Liam's Status]
Name: Liam Lithian
Age: 15
Race: Human
Title: The Regressed
Stars: ★ (Swordsman Trainee)
Affiliation: House Lithia
Potential: C
Attributes:
• Strength: 12
• Stamina: 7
• Agility: 8
• Vitality: 20
• Endurance: 40
• Mana: 204 (Max)
Talents:
• Swordsmanship (D)
• Close Combat (F)
• Archery (F)
• Hunting (E)
Skills:
• Dragonheart Vigor (Passive - Rank SS+)
* Passively consumes 1 Mana Point every 10 seconds. Each point consumed grants a temporary +5 boost to one selected Attribute (Strength, Stamina, Agility, Vitality, or Endurance). This boost fades quickly when Mana is no longer consumed. The skill provides enhanced Attributes, not a permanent increase to the base stats. Only one Attribute can be boosted at a time.
* Switching Attributes: Switching the boosted Attribute requires a short cooldown period (3 seconds).
* Dragonheart Refinement (Passive): As Mana is converted, a fraction of the draconic essence refines the user's own life force. Prolonged, controlled use of Dragonheart Vigor can lead to subtle, permanent enhancements to Vitality and Endurance over time. This effect is slow and requires consistent activation.
* Draconic Senses (Passive - Latent): Prolonged immersion in draconic mana gradually awakens dormant sensory acuity. When Dragonheart Vigor is active, hearing, smell, and a primal instinct for danger are subtly enhanced. The more mana converted, the more potent these senses become.
* ???
• Vision (Active - Rank A)
* Allows the user to perceive the stats of anyone, with the condition that their rank (Stars) is lower than the user's own.
EXP: 100/500
Remaining Stat Points: 0