His eyelids fluttered open.
The world greeted him in soft stillness—dim light spilling lazily through the curtains. There was a strange pressure in his limbs, like his body had sunk into the floor and solidified overnight.
It took him a moment to realize he wasn't on his bed.
The carpet beneath him was firm, textured, unfamiliar against his skin—yet it didn't feel wrong. Almost like his body had molded into it sometime in the night. As if even gravity had decided he belonged closer to the ground.
He didn't question it. Didn't move. Just stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes glassy and still, as awareness trickled back like cold water threading through veins that didn't ask for it.
His limbs were stiff. His joints ached. His neck throbbed with a dull, nagging tension, but none of it really registered.
Eventually, he propped himself up—slow, mechanical, like a puppet remembering it had strings. His gaze lowered, and there it was.
The sword.
Lying exactly where he'd left it last night.
Its white sheath gleamed faintly in the soft light, indifferent to everything that had happened.
He stared at it for a long time.
Was he waiting for regret to hit? Or maybe some trace of shame, or anger?
No. There was nothing. Just the usual emptiness curling quietly in his chest, heavy like a second heartbeat.
His reflection looked back at him in the polished surface of the blade—expression blank, eyes hollow, face too still to feel like his.
I feel like shit right now, Ash thought as he looked away with a bitter feeling,
The storm had passed.
Or maybe it had simply drained him dry.
I need another weapon. This one's become useless now...
The thought landed with the weight of a stone,
And most importantly his heart felt lighter, it was not like his worries went away but they didn't feel that much burdensome anymore.
Guess crying helps after all. Anyone who says a man can't cry must be one cold-hearted bastard.
He stood up as he thought, ignoring the cracking in his knees, the stiffness, the dry sting in his throat.
And then, as if on cue, his stomach let out a low growl.
He blinked, turned his head toward the clock, and stared at the blinking numbers.
I slept for a whole day and night without eating anything, and I also missed my classes.
But that thought didn't bother him that much, he simply sighed.
He picked up the sword and slid it into his space ring with practiced ease, not bothering to look at it again. Then he walked to the window, let the morning sunlight wash over his skin, and stood there for a while.
The birds outside chirped with a kind of reckless joy, their melodies dancing between tree branches that swayed gently in the morning breeze.
Golden sunlight filtered through the glass, warm and weightless, spilling across the floor in uneven patches that glowed like soft embers.
The sky stretched wide and cloudless above, its hues shifting from pale peach to tender blue, like a canvas still drying under the hand of some lazy god.
The wind stirred the curtains, lifting them with a kind of grace only mornings could afford—neither hurried nor hesitant, just quietly alive.
Somewhere in the distance, the bell of the academy tower rang once, low and deep, folding itself into the hush of dawn like a heartbeat.
And Ash…
Ash just stood there, the light brushing across his face, soaking into the cold of his skin.
The world outside looked so beautiful it almost felt unreal—like something meant for someone else. Like peace was a show he could only watch through the window.
He didn't know how long he stood like that.
But eventually, he called out,
Status.
**
[STATUS]
Name– Ash Burn
Race – Human
Age – 12
Class – Magic Swordsman (Unique)
Rank – Novice (F-Rank) – (80%)
Affinity – Lightning, Life
---
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength – 150
Agility – 150
Vitality – 150
Intelligence – 150
Stamina – 150
Charm – 150
Mana – 150 ( x 2 as he has two cores)
---
[TRAITS]
- Codex of Creation (Novice Rank)
- Primordial Core (Incomplete)
[SKILLS]
- Omni Thought
---
[RUNES]
- Rune of Stability
- Rune of Knowledge
- Rune of Life
- Rune of Balance
- Rune of Concealment
***
Rune: Rune of Concealment
Description:
-It hides the user's fate from anyone trying to read or interfere with it. It doesn't erase fate, but it covers it up like a thick fog, making it impossible to track or predict the user's future path.
-It also conceals the user's mana, traits, bloodline, and any other hidden truth inside the body. If someone tries to scan or observe using magic, skills, or tools, what they see will either be blocked, shown as empty, or completely misleading.
***
He had absorbed the Rune of Concealment after returning from Iron Hold City. It hadn't been a random choice.
All runes had long-term value. They weren't meant for instant gratification, but for subtle, steady growth that revealed itself over time.
The Rune of Concealment was no different.
It allowed him to hide his presence when needed, his mana, his intentions, and even his very fate from being seen by others. In a world where people could look beyond the surface, where fate itself could be read like a thread, that kind of cover was more than useful—it was necessary.
Looking back, Ash was sure he had made the right decision.
At first, the rune had taken the form of a cloak made of shadows. It let him slip into the dark like he belonged there, let him move without being noticed.
It wasn't just stealth. It was disappearance. His entire presence had been erased. Even standing still, it was like he wasn't part of the world anymore.
But still the effect to hide my fate was too sweet to give up....
There were people in this world who had affinity with fate. And even without that affinity, if someone reached a high enough level, they could still peer into the strands of destiny, see where a person was heading.
Ash didn't want that. He didn't want to be predictable. He didn't want anyone to trace him.
That fear had never left him.
So he'd taken the rune. As a precaution. As a layer of protection. Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was just common sense. Either way, he didn't regret it.
But still no ability was unlocked from the Primordial core even after absorbing another rune.
That part still bothered him a little.
He had hoped that absorbing another rune would awaken something, trigger a new ability, or at least show some sign that he was getting closer to understanding the core's purpose.
But nothing had changed—except for the symbol of the Rune of Concealment itself, which had been etched onto both of his cores like a quiet brand.
Still, even if the core hadn't changed, the rune helped in another way.
The primordial aura of the core was too much to contain. He had been doing his best to suppress it, but it took effort, full concentration, and he couldn't hold that kind of mental control all the time.
The Rune of Concealment had helped more than he thought it would. It didn't just suppress the ancient aura of the core—it gave him control over it.
Now, if he wished, he could release that pressure. Let the ancient force bleed out. Let others feel it. Or not. It was entirely up to him.
The thought brought a faint satisfaction to his mind.
The progress is smooth, Ash thought as he looked at his stats.
Since returning from the dungeon, he hadn't allowed himself to rest. Every day had been packed with movement—training his body, sparring during class, practicing mana manipulation whenever he had a moment to breathe and swinging his sword wherever he could find a quiet place.
And when there was nothing left to hit, he simply read books in the library.
He spent hours in the academy's grand library, devouring page after page, seeking the kind of knowledge that couldn't be taught through lectures or battle.
He had now shifted his focus to books related to—Swords arts, Runic Magic formations, historical records—anything that could help him grow.
That was also where he kept seeing her.
Elysia.
She's still the same, Ash thought, Even after being pulled into a whole new world… that quiet love she has for books never faded, not even a little.
Ash would always spot her there. Sometimes at the back tables, sometimes seated near the window, her face buried in pages.
Whenever he noticed her, he simply chose another aisle. It wasn't intentional avoidance. It just felt easier that way.
Their paths hadn't aligned again, and maybe that was for the best.
Shaking off the thoughts, Ash took a slow breath and let it settle deep in his chest before turning away from the window.
He walked to the bathroom, took a warm shower, and let the water wash away the stiffness in his limbs and the dull weight behind his eyes. After that, he got dressed, stepped out of the room, and made his way to the dining hall.
Breakfast came and went in a blur. He ate more than usual, though he couldn't tell if it was emotional hunger or just the aftermath of everything his body had gone through. Either way, it felt good to eat.
When he finally reached his classroom, the familiar number on the door stared back at him—1S.
He didn't hesitate. He pushed it open and stepped inside.
***
A/N: Hey hey, just wanna ask real quick—do y'all think the pacing's a bit slow? Or is it moving fine? I'm tryna make sure the story hits right, so if it feels like it's dragging, I'll speed things up a bit. Lemme know what you think, it'll help a lot for the next chapters! 🙌