The morning came with a soft chime in Reynar's head.
DING!
[System Notification]⚔️ Quest Progress Updated: The Path Forward ⚔️
✅ Complete basic combat training
Progress: 1/3 Objectives Completed
New Reward Unlocked:→ Stat Boost: +3 Strength, +2 Agility→ Skill Unlocked: [Combat Instinct I] – Gain slight foresight during melee combat. Passive.
Reynar blinked. A rush of warmth spread through his limbs, subtle but real. He flexed his fingers — they moved more sharply, more confidently.
A slow grin crept onto his face. He hadn't just survived this past week — he'd grown.
"Liora!" he called from the training yard.
She appeared at the doorway, arms folded. "What is it?"
"I leveled up," Reynar said, still grinning. "Well, kind of. My system gave me a skill. It's called Combat Instinct."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What does it do?"
"Some kind of passive foresight in battle. Just a little, but it's something. I can feel it working."
Liora approached, her expression unreadable. "Hmph. So the system recognizes effort."
She gave a small nod. "Good."
There was a pause. Reynar hesitated… and then asked the question that had been burning in the back of his mind.
"So… what's next?"
"Next?"
"I want to try a dungeon."
Liora's brows shot up.
"Absolutely not."
"Why not? I've been training, I've got a weapon, a skill—"
"You'll die."
Her voice cut clean through his optimism.
The silence that followed felt like a slap.
Reynar swallowed. "But… I need to grow. The system said I have to complete a dungeon trial."
Liora's eyes didn't soften.
"You're barely able to spar without falling on your face. That little boost your system gave you? It's not even close to what real fighters have out there."
"But if I wait too long—"
"You're not ready," she snapped, more sharply than he expected. "You think a week of swinging a stick around makes you invincible?"
He clenched his fists. "I don't think I'm invincible. But I have to do this. I can't be that helpless kid again. I won't be."
Her expression wavered — for just a moment. But then it hardened again.
"You want to see a dungeon?" she said coldly. "Fine."
She turned and walked inside. He followed her to the map table.
She pointed to a spot beyond the northern treeline, far past the village.
"'Ashfang Hollow,'" she said. "An E-rank dungeon. Weak monsters. Low-tier loot. And adventurers still die in there every week."
Reynar stared at the marked location. It didn't look far on the map. But the name alone felt heavy.
"Some are ambushed before they even step inside. Others die to traps. Some just starve because they can't figure out how to leave. That's a low dungeon."
Her eyes locked on his again.
"You want to go alone? You'll last ten minutes."
Reynar stepped back, her words like iron weights in his chest.
Everything he'd built — the pride, the momentum, the belief that maybe he could make it — cracked.
And for the first time in days, that old feeling returned.
The one from his previous life.
That small, quiet voice in the back of his mind that whispered:
You'll never be good enough.
Liora seemed to sense it.
Her voice softened, but only slightly.
"You've come far," she said. "But in this world, that's not enough."
Reynar nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Got it."
He turned away, his hand still clenched around the hilt of the sword she gave him.
"Thanks for the honesty."
He walked out into the yard, the wind cutting against his skin like truth.
Liora didn't follow.
Not yet.