Ryn and Princess Cilia had reached a mutually beneficial agreement: two gold coins per day for his "specialized" tutoring. If she showed improvement, the rate would go up.
He didn't waste time. Ryn started her on the same "Foundation Protocol" the System had assigned him as a daily mission.
[Daily Mission: Body of the Author]
• 100 Push-ups (100 GP)
• 100 Sit-ups (100 GP)
• 1km Run (100 GP)
For a week, the high-ranking Princess of the Empire was forced to sweat, pant, and groan through mud and dirt.
"How... is this... going to help me?" Cilia gasped, her golden hair plastered to her forehead.
"To train the mind, you must first master the vessel," Ryn answered solemnly, looking like a wise sage while secretly thinking about the 14 Gold Coins already sitting in his pocket. "A weak body cannot contain a strong soul."
By the end of the week, Ryn's Glory Points had swelled.
...
The S-Class was gathered in the Swordsmanship Department for their first official sparring session.
A man who looked more like a hungover beggar than a professor staggered into the room. His clothes were tattered, and he smelled faintly of cheap ale.
"Choose a partner," he muttered, not even looking at the students. "Spar until I tell you to stop."
Ryn immediately tried to slip away. He didn't want to fight Leon.
Leon was the protagonist; fighting will just be a stepping stone for him.
Leon seemed to feel the same, looking at Ryn like he was a fragile porcelain doll. Instead, Leon walked up to Bron Fontera, the top combatant.
"Would you like to spar?" Leon asked with a friendly smile.
Bron didn't even blink. He walked right past Leon, his eyes locked onto Ryn.
He hated "nerds"—those who hid behind books and lacked the "grit" of a true warrior. He tossed a wooden practice sword at Ryn's chest.
"Let's spar, commoner," Bron said, his voice thick with a predatory edge.
The room went silent. The atmosphere turned heavy.
"I... you see, I don't really—"
"No excuses," Bron growled, dropping into a low, heavy stance. "Come at me with everything you've got, or I'll break your bones with the first swing."
There's no way out of this, Ryn thought. If I don't fight, he'll actually kill me. System... buy it. All of it.
[System Purchase]
• Attribute: [Lightning]
• Ability: [Swordsmanship] D+
• Total Cost: 6,000 Glory Points.
• Remaining Balance: 6,400 GP.
Suddenly, Ryn's world shifted. Years of muscle memory he'd never actually earned flooded his limbs. The wooden sword in his hand no longer felt like a stick; it felt like an extension of his arm.
"Begin," the beggar-teacher muttered.
POOF!
Both boys vanished. The sound of wood hitting wood echoed like a cannon blast as they collided in the center of the room.
Ryn was blasted backward by the sheer weight of Bron's strike, his feet skidding across the floor.
Bron didn't give him a second to breathe. He leaped into the air, bringing his sword down in a vertical executioner's strike.
BOOM!
Ryn rolled out of the way just as the wooden sword shattered the stone floor. He's using Gravity magic to weight his swings, Ryn realized.
"You aren't as soft as you look!" Bron grinned, resting the heavy practice sword on his shoulder.
My turn.
As Ryn prepared to lung, he was suddenly slammed into the floor. An invisible weight, ten times heavier than gravity, crushed him. His bones groaned.
"Don't tell me you're done already... nerd."
Ryn's vision went white. The "Maniac" inside him screamed. He refused to be the "mob" character who gets bullied.
I am the one who wrote this world!
Sparks of jagged Red Lightning began to arc off Ryn's skin. He activated [Colossus], his muscles bulging to withstand the pressure.
With a roar, he exploded forward, leaving a trail of scorched earth and red electricity behind him.
He was in Bron's face in a heartbeat. But suddenly, Ryn's feet left the ground.
He began to float—Bron had reversed the gravity. Bron smirked, waiting to see the terror in the commoner's eyes.
Instead, he saw Ryn smiling.
I created you, motherfucker. I know exactly how your gravity works.
"Lightning Zone," Ryn whispered.
A massive barrage of red lightning struck the entire sparring ground.
The room white-washed as electricity surged through the floor, the air, and Bron's very armor.
When the smoke cleared, Ryn was on one knee, gasping for air. Bron was still standing, but his clothes were shredded, and his skin was charred. He had only survived by using his secondary [Earth] attribute to turn his skin into stone at the last second.
"That's enough!" Mira Adrian stepped between them, her violet eyes flashing with warning. "The teacher said a light spar, not a duel to the death."
"Brother! Take this!" Amilea ran over, throwing a fresh shirt to Bron.
Ryn's legs gave out, but before he could hit the floor, two pairs of hands caught him. Cilia was on his right, and Leon was on his left.
"Are you okay, commoner?" Cilia asked, her voice laced with genuine concern (or maybe she was just worried about her tutor dying).
Leon didn't say a word, but his emerald eyes were wide with shock. He had seen the "Hero" in Ryn for a split second.
"I'm thirsty," Bron grunted, walking away. But as soon as he was out of sight, he clutched his side. Ryn had thrown his sword with enough force to crack Bron's ribs even through the stone-skin. A wide, crazed grin spread across Bron's face. Finally... a real rival.
Back in his room, Ryn spent 400 GP on a System Heal. The exhaustion vanished, replaced by a cold clarity. He looked at the window and saw a crow perched there. On its leg was a small, blood-stained cylinder.
He opened the letter from Olivia. His eyes widened as he read the cramped, frantic handwriting of the vampire.
'Give me a break'
-----------------[Status]---------------------
Name: Malverkor Junior
Age: 16
Race: Archdemon
Rank: F (Lowest Grade)
[Stats]
• Strength: F
• Speed:F+
• Charima F
• Vitality: E+
• Mana: 184 / 184
[Attribute]: [colossus]
[Abilities]: [Demon Domain], [Swordmanship]
[Assessment]: You're no longer a fly to be swatted, but in the eyes of an Inquisitor, you're still just a slightly louder bug.
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