[Name: Gareth Draventhal]
[Age: 18]
[Aura Level: Tier-1 Apprentice Knight, 5-Star]
[Talent Grade: F (None)]
[Passive: Unbound Path — may cultivate Aura and Mana simultaneously, unrestricted by divine law, carrying hidden effects.]
[Techniques: Basic Breathing Method, Tier-1 Wrist-Break Stab, Tier-1 Basic Swordsmanship]
[Mana: None]
This part was simple enough to follow, his own attribute panel.
His eyes caught on the Talent line and stayed there.
F-grade. None.
He'd suspected as much, ten years of cultivation and still stuck as a low apprentice said enough on its own, but seeing the system spell it out still stung a little.
"Fine. F is F. Better than the people who can't touch Aura or Mana at all." He exhaled, refusing to let it get to him. The system was here now. That changed things.
"System. The starter gift, how do I open it?"
[Open starter gift?]
"Yes."
[Starter gift opened. Contents:]
[1. Cultivation Boost: Aura raised to Tier-3 Grand Knight, 1-Star.]
[2. Cultivation Boost: Mana raised to Tier-3 Archmage, 1st Circle.]
[3. Storage Space: 10 cubic meters.]
[4. Tier-2 Longsword x1]
[5. Tier-2 Staff x1]
[6. Basic Spells: Meditation Technique, Fireball, Wind Blade, Ice Spike.]
[7. Starting Funds: 10 gold.]
[Note: cultivation boosts scale with the host's Talent Grade. Future rewards from bonds and offspring will be issued as cultivation-years rather than direct rank boosts.]
Gareth stared at the list and said nothing for a long moment.
Not because it was small. For a kid with nothing, this was a complete reversal of fortune.
Before he could think further, two currents of warmth surged from his chest and the space between his brows, racing through blood and bone toward every limb. His body locked up, every muscle trembling as the power tore through him like a river through a broken dam, his meridians burning faintly in its wake.
At the same time, the basic spells etched themselves into his mind.
When the last of it faded, he was drenched in sweat, breathing hard. He pulled the panel up again with shaking hands.
[Aura Level: Tier-3 Grand Knight, 1-Star. Mana Level: Tier-3 Archmage, 1st Circle.]
Dual Tier-3.
A level he'd never let himself dream of. The strongest man in Bedrock Town, the town mayor himself, was only a 3-Star Grand Knight, and he was seventy years old with fifty years of cultivation behind him. Gareth had just reached comparable heights at eighteen, in the space of a few minutes.
It was absurd. Dual Tier-3 was enough to walk out of the town that had held him his entire life. Enough to survive the road. Enough, maybe, to be worth something to a woman scoring above 80.
"Now that's a turnaround," he muttered, flexing his fists, feeling the new weight of power settling into him.
Aura no longer trickled through his chest, it surged, a proper current now instead of a thin stream. He could tell, without even trying, that his Wrist-Break Stab would hit ten times harder than it had that morning.
The change in his Mana was stranger still. If Aura was a river, Mana was a lake, deep and still. His awareness stretched outward, further than it had any right to. He could sense an ant on the far wall. He could feel the press of the mercenaries drinking across the street at the Guild hall, each aura distinct.
This was what Tier-3 felt like. This was what strength felt like.
He stood, crossed to the junk pile in the corner, and picked up a broken stick. No technique, just Aura fed straight into the wood, a light flick of the wrist.
Crack.
The stick held. The air didn't. A sharp report cut through the room like a whip.
His eyes lit up.
For Mana, he raised a hand and called up the shape of Fireball from his new memory. At this level, casting barely required a chant at all. A thought was enough. A fist-sized flame bloomed in his palm, orange-red, throwing heat and light across the room. He killed it quickly, no interest in burning his own house down on his birthday.
"Dual cultivation. Tier-3 Grand Knight, Tier-3 Archmage," he said quietly, testing the words. "I could probably hold my own against a mid Tier-3."
No. Not just hold his own.
Aura for a body that could take a hit and keep moving. Mana for reach, for control of the field from a distance. Together, they gave him a real edge against anyone his level, and a fighting chance against people above it.
That was what it meant to actually be able to protect himself.
Still, one detail nagged at him. The system's note about cultivation-years.
It meant future rewards, from bonds and from children, wouldn't hand him a rank outright the way the starter gift had. They'd come as cultivation-years instead, and with his F-grade Talent dragging down the conversion, those years would be worth a fraction of what they'd be worth to someone with real potential.
Which meant one thing.
He couldn't rely on quality alone. He'd have to make up the difference in sheer scale. Where a genius host might get a full breakthrough from one bond and one child, he might need five. Ten.
Gareth took a slow breath and let the thought settle. The system's advice from earlier came back to him, clear now that the shock had worn off.
Leave Bedrock Town. Head for Northwind City.
A bigger world. Better odds. And somewhere out there, the start of everything he was supposed to build.