For the most part, having always thus far reincarnated as a Verdenkind—one born mostly of peons, and one time of Verdenkind parents generally with humble beginnings—I’ve tried to raise my strength in secret, especially so in the early sections of my incarnations. There have been exceptions where I didn't hide it, or to be exact, I wasn't able to hide it, but for the most part, I've done my best to keep the fact that I have access to the system hidden. This was due to many reasons, among which was a main one the fact that a child—be it a Verdenkind or Highbreed child—shouldn't normally have access to the system and even acquire skills or abilities until around the age of 7 or 8.
The fact that I do since birth or to be exact the moment I regain awareness and unlock all memories into my then and onward "vessel," qualify me as a freak. After all, I'm not just a normal kid; I am something else, something not of this world, something with a mission—a mission I was set on seeing through. I remember how to rack up some level, I had to sneak into monster-infested areas to see my level rise and come back as if I hadn’t just challenged death. I remember the times where it went well, but I mostly remember the many times it went wrong, so wrong in fact that some of these escapades sent me to a new vessel.
While Greed and Resurgence—the authority that allowed me to repeatedly spawn into Fiendfell as a random baby—could potentially allow me to endlessly reincarnate into this world as many times as needed to accomplish my mission, I, in spite of that, didn’t like the idea of having to repeat the whole awful process known as childhood.
Admittedly, it’s a short period of time, especially considering the timespan we operate on, but it can feel painfully long, especially when you have to keep everything in and pretend to be what you look like—a baby. So, ideally I would prefer that I didn’t repeat that process too much time. Also, I didn’t like dying, especially in this world where you could die in countless unique, painful, awful ways.
So, when I, in this incarnation, upon being appraised by the old man, and instead of being seen as a freak, was instead seen and hailed as some sort of genius—genius that they were set on not having waste an ounce of "alleged" bottomless potential—I didn't miss the opportunity to work on raising my strength along with them, even if that implied working with the last people I wanted to work with.
Growl, splash reverberated inside the enclosed room.
"I’m going to swipe forth!" I warned preemptively, ready to swing Wanda, at the point of which a two-layered magic circle was conjured.
"Alright," Justaff casually replied, sidestepping to the left.
As he did, I swung my left hand forward, calling forth a magical effect which instantly manifested thin but long icicles that spread from the ground up in the direction of my skill’s target, the Hexfen.
The icicles, sharp and gleaming under the dim light, shot towards the Hexfen with a precision that was as beautiful as it was deadly.
Actually, nevermind, it was beautiful but not deadly.
Seeing the icicle close on itself, the Hexfen didn't even see the attack worth dodging, instead confident in its hide, it charged forth boldly smashing into the icicle and effectively smashing them to pieces, sending them flying in the opposite direction, toward me. Before I could properly muster a reaction, Justaff wedged himself in front of me, slashed through the flying icicle pieces, and promptly moved to the side. Having witnessed that familiar display of strength and overprotectiveness from Justaff countless times, I was no longer impressed. Nor was I surprised by the outcome of that attack; I had anticipated its failure, though I must admit I underestimated the extent of the backlash.
With Justaff no longer wedged before me, I swung Wanda, finally making use of the magic circle I preemptively summoned. I manifested a sword made of ice that hurled forth like a projectile at the Hexfen. I was hoping the Hexfen would be bold enough to not dodge like it did.
It didn't. It dodged.
Had it reached it, the sword I conjured with Ice Magic would've impaled it, or at least dealt a huge blow to its H.P.
Skipping to the side, it evaded my attack, splashing the water pooling on the ground high up in the air. Upon doing so, it charged forth at me.
"Tsk," I couldn't help but mutter before promptly calling forth yet another skill of mine, also at level 2, [Frost Shards], that I made rain in the creature's direction.
As the Frost Shards descended like a relentless storm, the Hexfen's eyes flickered with what might have been surprise—or perhaps annoyance—at the sudden onslaught. The shards, honed by a level 2 skill, were individually hurled with the strength and speed equivalent to one of the early powder cannon bullets, seeking to pierce its dark hide. Each impact echoed through the air along with the sound of glass shattering upon impact.
The Hexfen was able to dodge some shards, but failed to evade others, and while these "other" didn't cause any particularly potent damage to it, they successfully slowed it down in its initial charge toward me. However while that was the case, it didn't dissuade it from continuing its charge.
I considered backing off, which seemed reasonable, but knowing that doing so would prompt Justaff to once again wedge himself between me and the monster, I, upon considering my current level, didn't want that to happen so I gave up the idea.
Instead of backing off, I glanced at Justaff, who clenched his sword at the ready, and exchanged my unspoken intent with him. Then, I took a couple of steps forward, splashing in the water pooling on the concrete floor, but that was the extent of it. I was being bold, but not too bold.
No longer being attacked by the shards, the creature, as if challenged by my few steps forward, promptly recovered and charged once again toward me.
In less than a second, it closed in on me, and I allowed it. As it reached the range of the attack I was going with, I summoned a magic circle and swung my wand, anticipating an attack that never came. Pretending to go for an attack it was already familiar with, and make it halt, I activated [Cryogenize], a skill that allowed me to freeze anything I held contact with, be it solid, liquid, or gaseous.
This time, I used it on the water pooling at our feet, which happened to be the state of matter the skill was most potent on. Spreading like cotton on fire, the water was invaded by icy tendrils and instantly turned into ice, trapping the creature's leg in the icy prison. It yelped and barked at the ice that locked it halfway through the knee.With a pained growl, it struggled to free itself from the icy grip of [Cryogenize]. As it managed to break the ice around its leg through a quick struggle, I understood that I had smirked a little too early. Deciding not to waste any additional time, I extended my arm and fired off another volley of [Frost Shards].
As the Frost Shards rained down upon the Hexfen once more, they encased the creature in a relentless assault of icy projectiles. Some shards finally pierced its thick hide, splattering blood all over the frozen ground, while others glanced off harmlessly, like glass shattering against a strong wall. Collectively, I could tell they chipped their way through to the final chunk of the Hexfen's HP.
Despite the damage it sustained, the Hexfen snarled, a mix of pain, despair, and frustration coloring its yelp as it attempted to break free from the icy shackles that held it momentarily captive. But before it could do so, I used my [Ice Magic] to manifest a lance made of ice, not skimping on my resources.
The lance, forged from my dwindling MP, materialized with crystalline brilliance. With a flick of my wrist, I launched it toward the Hexfen. It hurtled through the air, slicing through the frigid, misty air with deadly grace. In the blink of an eye, it found its mark, piercing the Hexfen and embedding itself in it with a butchering crunch. The creature, still standing on its half-frozen leg, was not even given the chance to let out a cry. It stood there, lance embedded deep. With a final, guttural sound that echoed through the torch-lit room, as the ice from the skill [Cryogenize] rapidly broke down and melted, the Hexfen slumped to the ground, dead.
A silence followed, punctuated by a series of notifications that appeared in the corner of my eyes.
[Notification]
Skill Name: Frost Lance Conjuration
Description [Identification Lvl.5]:With the activation of this skill, you gain the ability to conjure a lance made of pure ice at will. The Frost Lance materializes in your hand, ready to be wielded as a temporary weapon.
『Expand』
[Level Up Interface]
Attribute Points Earned: 8
『Expand』
[Notification]
Skill Name: Frostbound Stride
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Description [Identification Lvl.5]:Upon casting Frostbound Stride, your target finds their movements encumbered by a chilling frost, causing a significant reduction in their speed and agility. A glacial aura envelops the target, sapping their momentum and leaving them struggling to move with their usual swiftness.
『Expand』
My attention was momentarily drawn to them until, with the melting ground shattering at each of his steps, Justaff approached. From behind, he reached onto my shoulder, praising in a genuine voice, "Well done, Milady." His acknowledgment felt warm and sincere, at least it did until I saw the grimace on his face.
"What?" I asked, readying myself internally to hear his critique.
"That was a bold move," he said, glancing at my feet.
"Yes," I nodded, "and it worked," I said, motioning with my head at the dead Hexfen's blood slowly seeping into the melting ice.
He spared the Hexfen a brief glance, "Yes, it did, I just think that it was a little 'bold' for someone who's supposed to be a Sorcerer, unless perhaps Milady is the kind of Sorcerer to entangle herself in her own spells."
The Sorcerer class specialized in manipulating spell-like skills within the confines of the system that governed this world. Unlike the broader concept of "magic" which is generally wielded by mages, these spell-like skills were more "uniform", offering limited customization.
Take, for instance, [Frost Shards]; my control over it extended only as far as directing the direction into which the shard will be released. Similarly, with [Cryogenize], my influence was confined to selecting the target for its effects, leaving me unable to shield myself from its consequences.
I thought, the adrenalin I’d gotten from the training waning off, allowing me to finally notice the frisky environment I was surrounded by.
From the perspective of someone from a systemless world and was naturally very unfamiliar with skills, abilities and this side of the system, this and everything involving skills, be they magical or psionic, once really seemed nonsensical to me. However, it is the reality that people of this world face, and acceptance is the only recourse, I was no exception.
At the end of the day, this aspect of the system as nonsensical as it can feel, was something that can’t be changed and to be worked around, which is why learning to work around and, if possible make the most of the limitations imposed upon them was an integral part to a Sorcerer's training.
"I get it, you can't control it, but now it's about time you get out of these waters," he said, noticing me beginning to shiver. "Unless you're too exhausted to do so?"
"I'm fine."
Nodding, I walked to a slightly elevated corner of the room left untouched by the water that pooled into the room because of the training. Justaff followed and then went to a corner to retrieve something that should be Ane's to retrieve. There, removing my soaked shoes, I went barefoot. Justaff came back to me with a pair of shoes in hands and a towel. He then went to one knee to begin wiping my leg with the towel, before once he was done, putting my shoes on, like one would a child, which I guess I still was.
"I can do that," I protested.
"I know."
Being once and forever a man in my heart—one man with pride, I knew for a fact that an earlier version of myself would have refused this treatment. But at this point, I just complainlessly accepted it like the spoiled young lady that I was in this incarnation.
"... If you were to catch even a slight cold, I wouldn't know how to explain this to your Father and even less to your Grandfather," he said with a chuckle.
"They'll scold you?"
"Oh. They'll do more than that. And to be frank with you, I wouldn't blame them. The fault would be mine, twice."
I was momentarily confused as to where the "twice" came from, and I was just about to ask when I understood that he meant both as a personal trainer of mine and the new position he one-sidedly took over.
"If that's what you want me to talk about, give up," I declared.
"I don't see what you're talking about, my lady," he simply denied. A few seconds later, as he put my last shoe on, he casually asked, "So what happened with Ane?"
"Nothing. Is it Grandfather or Father who asked you to ask that?"
A week ago, I separated myself from Ane, the servant who has been following me since—well, since she was in the age of doing so. If I were a normal baby, it would seem as though she's always been there at my side. In a sense, she would be the closest this vessel of mine would have to a mother, though with our age difference, it is more reasonable to say big sister figure.
"Neither," he denied, before once again promptly confessing, "Yes, they've asked me."
"But I'm also curious, did something happen between the two of you? Did she do something?"
"She didn't. She hadn't done anything," I declared, before adding, "I just believe that I'd be better off without anyone."
"Milady, I don't think..."
Before he got the chance to finish, I strongly asserted, "I can take care of myself alone."
He looked at me with a very obviously unconvinced expression, then added, "Alright then. It's understood."
"Let's change the subject," I proposed, done with arguing about this topic already.
"Alright."
I pondered for a moment about what to ask, and as I came to a decision, I said, "You've trained with my Father, haven't you? Is he stronger than me at this level?"
"What level are we talking about? 6 or still 5?"
"6."
"So you've really leveled up?"
"Yes, but that's not the topic."
"Indeed, let's see...I wouldn't really know. It's true that I've trained with your father and I know roughly where he scales compared to someone his level, but when comparing to you at your current level, it's hard since I have to factor in your classes which aren't the same and your age, which also aren't the same. So it's hard to give a definite answer."
"Hm, is that so?"
The deal about me that made it that I was so spoiled by this family was the fact that unlike normal Verdenkind or Highbreed, I had access to the system and thus its skills and abilities since birth, unlike others who do at the age of 7 or 8, and quite possibly for some at 9. That is, by my own assessment, the age at which children's brains have developed enough to actually interact with the system.
In my case, most likely due to the authority that allows me to reincarnate over and over and retain memories of my previous selves and true self, my brain is forced from birth to be ready to interact with the system. But sure, despite facing some struggles to access the system as a baby, like the ability to muster up enough mental strength to send a mental command to the system to show me my status interface, I was able to do it from birth. However, doing so would literally send my fatigue percentage to the ceiling and would 100% knock me out. It is only later, at around the age of 3 to 4, that I usually manage to do it without being exhausted to a knockdown.
Having discovered that very unique aspect of me of being able to access the system despite being a baby and the presence of a very unique skill I literally spawned with through his appraisal skill "Grandfather" or the Old man as I call him and by extension the family itself saw my birth as the second coming of their beloved King ancestor, and while I was still a pretty much harmless baby back then, they knew what they had to do: to groom me into what they believed I was destined to be.
That being said, they didn't immediately have me trained to raise my strength; they were at least sane enough not to do that. I was raised very normally, so long as one didn't account for the continuous appraisal of the old man as a form of training or torture.
It was only at the age of seven that I was finally trained, which I believe didn't sound too unreasonable. Despite the beginning of my training, they mostly focused on having me pick up innate skills like swordsmanship, healing, or holy-related skills which are skills that are rumoredly "easy" to be picked on, for Highbreed. So I spent a lot of my training as a level 0, meaning that I spent 9 years total since my birth, 2 years since the beginning of my training as a level 0. It has been 4 years since the beginning of my training; I was now 11, and I was finally level 6.
"You've leveled up at a rapid and consistent speed, Milady. At your age, your father was, I believe, a level 2 or 3, but at your level, he was already 15, and by 16, he'd already racked up quite the battle experience by then..."
"Oh, is that so... Then I'm curious, how long do you think it'll take me to be stronger than Father?"
"At his current level?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes."
For a moment, he looked at me incredulously, "What's with you today, Milady? Did you have thoughts of overthrowing your father or something?" he asked teasingly.
"No, I'm just curious about how long it would take me to overcome him. That's something they want me to do, right?"
"That is indeed your father and Lord Grandfather's wish, for you to surpass them."
"Which is why I'm curious how long it would take me to do so," I said before transitioning, "I don't even know what his level is."
"Why don't you just ask him."
"I could..."
"Don't tell me you expect this old man to reveal your father's level?"
I shamelessly nodded.
"Milady, one's level is a very intimate thing; I can't go around telling people what my master's level is, can I?"
That was a very reasonable thing to say. I’ve always found it ironic that in a world where levels, skills, and abilities could dictate the thin line between victory and defeat, or even life and death, skills like appraisal weren’t skills that could easily be acquired like swordsmanship but were instead rare skills an individual could find very fortunate enough to ever acquire. With this particular skill, or any instinct-enhancing skills which, luckily for most, aren’t as rare as Appraisal, those without these skills are compelled to either "test the waters," an approach fraught with risks as it involves engaging with the opponent in some form of interaction to gauge their strength indirectly. This method, inherently risky, could lead to dire consequences that more often than not would lead to a deadly ending.
"That is, of course, assuming I know precisely what his level is."
"But you can tell where it roughly should be, right?" I pressed, eager for any scrap of information he might be willing to share.
At these words, he made a grimace, signaling his reluctance to divulge such sensitive information so freely. "You're not giving up, are you? Fine. But I'm not planning on giving in either, so let's do this instead. I leave this riddle to you, my level is lower than that of your father but just a little higher than that of your grandfather."
"Lower than Father, but higher than Grandfather... Does that mean that---"
Before I could finish, Justaff raised his index finger and brought it to his lips, signaling for silence. "Please, do keep what you believe is the answer to yourself. I won't confirm or deny whatever assumption you might have."
"Alright," I said, feeling sufficiently satisfied with this as an answer.
Knowing exactly what the old man's level was, having heard it from his own mouth as a child—I was still a child but it was in a time where I was still "younger"—as to why he told me, perhaps it was a sort of atonement for the daily appraisal I was subjected to back then, I could more or less theorize what Justaff and "Father's" levels could be.
The old man was a level 19 Cleric, so Justaff and he had to be of a higher level than that. Sure, that left a lot of room for speculation, but the fact that Justaff, who claimed that he was of a lower level than my father, once mentioned having gone through something that happens only at level 25 means that he's at least above that level. How much above, exactly, was uncertain, but I could safely exclude the possibility that they were above level 50 due to what happens at that milestone.
This left me with levels 25 to 50. Actually, the fact that neither of them ever brought up the milestone that is at level 50 to me, even though I've had many discussions about what is known as the dual-classing milestone even though it is such an important one, means that they are at least 5—no, 10—levels away from it, which narrows it down to between levels 25 to 40. But once I factor in the fact that Justaff spoke of the level 25 milestone as something that happened long ago, it's safe to assume he was at least level 30 now. I could be wrong, of course, so taking into account the possibility that I am mistaken, my final assumption would be somewhere between levels 28 to 40. That was a wide margin, but it gave me an idea of what I’m dealing with.
"You look oddly satisfied with that riddle, are you that confident in the answer you came up with?" Justaff asked, an amused expression on his face.
"More or less," I replied, heading for the castle's dungeon exit.
"I take it this will be the end of today's training?"
"Yes, I'm going to take a bath and distribute my attribute points as I should."
"Do you need help with that?"
"No," I declined, before turning back to add another, "No."
"What's the second 'no' for?" he asked, barely able to contain his laughter.
"I can do this alone."
"Alright, Milady. But to be honest with you, if you wish to no longer hear me bring up this subject, consider getting another servant to serve you, if you no longer want Ane to do so, that way, your father won't pressure me into taking over Ane's place. I have many worth-praising attributes, but I unfortunately have none that would make me a great lady's attendant."
I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly.
"I'll think about it," I said, heading for the stairs leading out of the dungeon.
"Please do so. For the sake of us both."
"Alright, alright."