Cain looked at his status. In this world, everyone had it from birth — like a mark of fate, like a brand from which there was no escape.
The boy's gaze settled on the [Traits] tab. Among the list was one he kept reviewing again and again. His eyes lingered on it longer than they should have.
[Affinity to All Energies]
At first glance — it seemed like a blessing. Too perfect to be true. A rare trait someone might call a cheat. After all, each race in Vailens possessed only the energy inherent to them: angels — holy energy, demons — demonic energy. Others could gain access to foreign energies only through mutations or unheard-of exceptions.
But Cain was born with this trait.
And yet — what was the problem?
For someone, this would be a gift from the heavens. For him — a curse. He could not control it. Inside his body, powers battled that should never have met. Energies awakened one after another, each trying to dominate, tearing the flesh from within in a fight for supremacy.
Cain's body became a battlefield.
Because of this, he could not even manage simple mana — the energy natural to humans. Other types did not obey him at all.
Moreover, within him flickered energies that defied classification. Even the [System] could not name them. Probably they were dormant, using his body as a vessel… or their time had yet to come.
Outwardly, Cain's status did not look hopeless. But in the eyes of the Ravenshade family, he was nothing but… trash.
In a clan where the youth reached at least rank F, and often FE, before the age of ten, he held only rank G — the lowest possible.
From childhood, he was isolated because of his peculiarity. A weak body did not allow him to hold a sword. Even simple training was torture. And magic? His body could not withstand managing even a tiny amount of mana.
Paths to power — closed.
Once, everyone was sure he would not live past five years old. Yet he survived. And not only survived — in days when the pain receded, Cain tried to train. Sword, magic, mana — he tried to carve his way through pain, blood, and sweat.
But his body constantly betrayed him.
He lagged behind his peers. Not for lack of will — but because nature had put a wall before him.
So he chose another path — the path of knowledge.
Cain immersed himself headlong into science. From the basics of arithmetic — to alchemy, manotechnology, philosophy of energies. At ten, he could argue with young scholars and often leave them speechless.
He mastered dozens of languages — not only human, but ancient elvish, demonic dialects, infernal symbols. Though Vailens had a common language, he wanted to understand everyone — to the core.
His [Intelligence] and [Wisdom] long surpassed the usual for the third level. But — there was a nuance...
Even if you spend all your stat points on intelligence — that will not make you a genius or a sage.
[Intelligence] does not generate epiphanies, does not create ideas — it only speeds up processing of existing data, allows the brain to operate with more complex structures, to see patterns where others see chaos. It is not brilliance of mind, but its discipline. Mechanics of thinking, not its inspiration.
[Wisdom], in turn, teaches nothing new, does not open doors to higher truths. It is like silence in a temple: the ability to hear and keep, to hold delicate echoes of spells, not lose them in the stream of time. It gives depth, but does not fill it with meaning.
The essence of other stats could be understood from their names.
[Health] — the red line of life. It is the blood that remains in the veins. It is the body still able to stand. When [Health] falls to zero — only silence remains.
[Stamina] — the immediate reserve of physical energy, consumed by actions such as sprinting, dodging, striking, and performing physical techniques. It depletes rapidly, reflecting short-term exertion. Depleted [Stamina] leads to slowed movements and reduced combat efficiency
[Endurance] determines the total capacity of [Stamina].
Each point of [Endurance] grants 10 Stamina. Higher [Endurance] means a larger Stamina pool, allowing for prolonged and more intense physical activity.
While [Stamina] naturally recovers over time or through specific effects, low [Endurance] limits how much can be sustained before exhaustion sets in.
[Endurance] reflects long-term resilience, while [Stamina] measures immediate physical readiness. Their balance defines how far the body can be pushed before it breaks.
[Strength] — not just muscles. It is the limit of strain that flesh can endure before tearing. A strike that breaks a bone. A grip that stops a blade. It forms the weight one can lift, break, throw into darkness.
[Agility] — the rhythm with which the body moves through space. It is the speed of strikes, dodges, lunges forward. The tempo of battle, the dance of the weapon, a jump over the abyss.
[Intuition] — a gift that comes not from thought but from within. It whispers when something unseen approaches. It pulls the hand aside a moment before the strike. It is not knowledge — it is a feeling of the world.
[Perception] — eyes that see more. It is the sense of blood scent in rain, noticing subtle change in shadow, recognizing tracks on scorched earth. High [Perception] allows revealing the hidden, seeing the vulnerable, feeling presence.
[Willpower] — strength of the core. It is the ability to remain oneself under pressure of outside influence. When a spell tears consciousness, when a demon whispers a name, when pain burns bones — [Willpower] stands on the edge, unbreakable and silent.
[Charisma] — not beauty, but the power of influence. A person with high [Charisma] can persuade, inspire, break doubt, line others up behind. It is a gaze that carries confidence or fear. It is a word followed by many.
[Fortune] — elusive. It cannot be calculated, caught. It either is, or it isn't. It is the chance of a critical hit. It is a unique relic found under the rubble. It is an arrow that flew a finger above the heart. Its presence — a randomness that saves.
The last five do not grow through stat points. They are either present or absent. And the mana flowing in the body also does not increase by points. It grows through years: training, meditation, environmental conditions.
Cain was saved by two other traits: [Spark of Mind] and [Accelerated Thought]. They became the driving force of his learning.
But the Ravenshade family valued only one thing — power that crushes everything in its path.
Might that breaks. A storm that leaves a void.
Cain was called: trash, shame, broken, a dirty stain...
He heard it all. His [Perception] did not allow him not to hear. And he could say nothing in reply.
Even in his mother's womb, the burden of the heir to Temnorivya was laid upon him. But fate laughed — cruel and merciless.
Now the title belonged to Ruen — the second son of Kael Ravenshade, born from the second wife, Aelyrianna of the ancient elven line. Ruen embodied everything the family should be proud of: strength, beauty, charisma. Light.
Cain was the shadow.
And yet, one person did not turn away from him — his mother, Nimariss Ravenshade.
Cain turned his head to the girl standing beside him.
"Mother's not home, is she?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, no," Eli answered. "Lady Nimariss left with the little mistress Maev to your elder sister Valeria's place. They won't be back for about a month."
Cain's face remained stone-cold.
Mother still loved him. But with every year, she gave him less and less time. Her whole world was given to other children. He understood — he was no longer a child. But his heart still longed for warmth, for touch, for affection that had long become rare.
Over the years, he closed himself off.
Became silent.
Emotionless.
Only with two people could he be himself: with Eli — the servant girl, and Sebastian Greymoor — the butler who became a second father to him.
Because his real father...
"Young master Cain, after breakfast, Lord Kael awaits you," Eli suddenly said.
The boy's shoulders tensed.
"Did he say why?"
"No, only asked that you appear."
Cain needed no explanation. He perfectly understood what his father wanted from him.
"I'll have breakfast in my room, as usual," he said in an already commanding tone.
"But..." Eli tried to object.
"No 'buts'. You know why I don't sit at that table."
Eli was embarrassed. She knew. The family table was foreign to Cain — a place where he always felt superfluous.
"As you command, young master," she whispered and quickly left.
Cain rose from the table, approached the window. Peering out, he saw the storm raging beyond it, and with a flash of thunder whispered:
"This day has finally come..."