The second day of my new life began exactly like the first: with a lumpy mattress, a grimy window, and the distant, abrasive sound of Helga's voice rattling through the orphanage like a fork in a garbage disposal. I was starting to think the woman didn't actually sleep—she just powered down for a few hours and rebooted at maximum volume.
I was sore. Delightfully, agonizingly sore. Every muscle in my tiny body had spent the night reminding me exactly how many sword swings I'd performed yesterday, and the answer, apparently, was "too many for a five-year-old to reasonably survive." The True Demon Slayer Mark had apparently accelerated my recovery somewhat, but not enough to make me forget that I'd spent four hours brutalizing my arms into submission.
Stretching my arms above my head, I felt the satisfying pop of joints that had been thoroughly abused and were now, inexplicably, stronger for it. The status screen I'd reviewed before sleep had confirmed it: Strength 17, Constitution 25, Stamina 29. Numbers that would have been impressive for an adult, let alone a toddler who'd only recently discovered what a sword swing was.
And today, we do it all over again. Because that's what protagonists do. They grind.
I slipped out of bed, my bare feet finding the familiar splintery floorboards with practiced ease. The Transparent World flickered to life at the edge of my perception, painting the world in ghostly outlines of mana and blood flow. Through the walls, I could sense the dim, sluggish signatures of the other orphans, still fast asleep. Helga's mana signature was in the kitchen, a muddy brown smear of resentment and bad cooking.
Perfect. Operation Sneaky Toddler is a go.
The journey through the orphanage was smoother this time. I'd mapped the creaky floorboards yesterday, and my increased Agility—now a respectable 18—made me significantly lighter on my feet. I ghosted down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the back door without a single board betraying my presence. If this whole "sword god" thing didn't work out, I could always become the world's smallest assassin.
The yard was the same depressing patch of dead grass and broken dreams. The fence had the same convenient gap. The forest waited beyond, dark and silent, its creatures already sensing my approach and making themselves scarce.
"Morning, Thornwood," I whispered as I slipped through the trees. "Miss me?"
The forest, predictably, did not respond. But a rabbit with a particularly twitchy mana signature bolted in the opposite direction, which I chose to interpret as a "yes."
I found my way back to the clearing easily. The fallen log was still there, the moss was still soft, and the scattered branches were still plentiful. It was almost comforting, having a training ground. Like a second home, except with more bugs and less Helga.
I selected a new stick today—the old one had been reduced to splinters by the end of yesterday's session. This one was slightly thicker, slightly longer, and had a pleasing heft that suggested it might survive the morning. I named it Stick II: The Stickening, because my naming conventions had not improved overnight.
"Alright, Stick the Second," I said, settling into my stance. "Let's see if we can beat yesterday's time."
DING!
[DAILY QUEST: SWORD GOD'S DAILY ROUTINE]
You know the drill. Same requirements, same rewards, same conceptual sword judging your every move. Don't disappoint it.
Quest Requirements:
*- Perform 1,000 vertical sword slashes [0/1,000]*
*- Perform 1,000 horizontal sword slashes [0/1,000]*
*- Perform 1,000 sword stabs [0/1,000]*
*- Perform 200 connective sword movements linking any two of the above [0/200]*
Quest Rewards:
*- 1x Gacha Ticket*
*- 5x Small Mana Potion (Restores 300 MP each)*
*- 5x Copper Coins*
*- 1x Small Stamina Potion (Restores 10% of Stamina)*
*- 100 EXP*
"Same as yesterday," I muttered. "No creativity, these system quests. Where's the variety? Where's the pizzazz?"
The screen, as always, was utterly indifferent to my complaints.
I raised Stick II and began.
The difference between yesterday's training and today's was immediately apparent. My arms still ached, but the movements came easier now. The Sword God Incarnate trait had done its work overnight, cementing the previous day's lessons into my muscle memory. My vertical slashes were cleaner, my grip more natural, my balance more intuitive.
The Transparent World, now at Level 3, fed me a constant stream of feedback. I could see the subtle inefficiencies in my own movements—a slight tension in my left shoulder, a minor wobble in my wrist on the follow-through—and corrected them in real time. It was like having a master instructor living in my eyeballs.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Stick II cut through the air with satisfying precision. I fell into the rhythm quickly, my mind quieting as my body took over. The world narrowed to the arc of the branch, the contraction of my muscles, the steady rhythm of my breathing.
One hundred vertical slashes. Two hundred. Five hundred.
DING!
[Skill Level Up: Basic Swordsmanship Lv 6 → Lv 7]
I grinned, not breaking my rhythm. "Oh, we're cooking now."
By the time I hit one thousand vertical slashes, my arms were burning but not screaming. Progress. The horizontal slashes followed, a sweeping, side-to-side motion that tested different muscles but felt increasingly natural. The stabs were still the worst part—there was something fundamentally tedious about thrusting a stick forward a thousand times—but even they went faster than yesterday.
I finished the connective movements in a fluid sequence, my body flowing from one strike to the next with a grace that would have been impossible twenty-four hours ago. The final transition—a diagonal slash into a reverse-grip stab—felt almost elegant.
DING!
[QUEST COMPLETE: SWORD GOD'S DAILY ROUTINE]
The sword is, once again, mildly impressed. You're developing a habit.
Quest Rewards:
*- 1x Gacha Ticket*
*- 5x Small Mana Potion (Restores 300 MP each)*
*- 5x Copper Coins*
*- 1x Small Stamina Potion (Restores 10% of Stamina)*
*- 100 EXP*
DING!
*[Template Integration Progress: Yoriichi Tsugikuni +0.1%]*
Current Template Integration: 1.1%
I paused mid-collapse, staring at the new notification. "Wait, the template percentage increased just from training? That's... actually huge."
I hadn't expected that. The system's initial description had made it seem like template fragments would only come from gacha pulls or special quests. But if daily sword training increased the Yoriichi template by 0.1% every day, that meant I could eventually unlock more of his power just by sticking to my routine. At that rate, I'd reach 100% in... about two and a half years. Not exactly fast, but guaranteed progress was nothing to scoff at.
And with the Sword God Incarnate trait helping me master blade techniques faster, the synergy here is absolutely disgusting. I love it.
I flopped onto the moss, letting Stick II rest beside me. The morning sun had climbed higher, painting the clearing in shades of gold and green. The air was warming up, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers. It was, objectively, a beautiful day.
And I was about to make it even better.
DING!
[NEW QUEST: DAILY MANA REFINEMENT]
I blinked at the screen, still catching my breath. "Already? Give a guy a minute, system. I just did three thousand two hundred—"
The path of magic is not separate from the path of the blade. A true warrior tempers both body and soul. Your mana core is a vessel of infinite potential, currently filled with the spiritual equivalent of muddy water. Clean it. Purify it. Make it worthy of the power you seek.
Quest Requirements:
*- Use at least 900 MP to refine your mana core [0/900]*
Quest Rewards:
*- 1x Gacha Ticket*
*- 100 EXP*
*- 5x Copper Coins*
*- 0.01% Orsted Template Integration*
Time Limit: 24 Hours
Failure Penalty: Your core remains impure, and you'll probably die embarrassingly when you run out of mana mid-fight. No pressure.
I read the quest twice, my exhaustion temporarily forgotten. Mana core refinement. That was... actually exactly what I needed. My core was currently at the Black stage, the absolute lowest rank, so impure it was practically useless for spellcasting despite my massive mana reserves. If I could purify it, even a little, I'd be able to actually use my MP for something other than existing.
And the rewards! Another Gacha Ticket, more EXP, more copper, and—most importantly—a 0.01% boost to the Orsted template. That was tiny, almost laughably so. But combined with the Yoriichi progress from sword training, I'd be chipping away at both templates every single day.
Slow and steady wins the race. And by "race," I mean "becoming an unstoppable god-monster before I hit puberty."
I accepted the quest.
And then, something strange happened.
I didn't need the system to tell me what to do. The knowledge was just... there. Rising up from the fragment of Orsted's soul lodged in my own, an instinct as natural as breathing. I knew how to draw mana from my core, how to cycle it through my body's channels, how to use the pressure of that flow to grind away the impurities that clouded my core's true potential.
It was like remembering a skill I'd always had, rather than learning a new one. The Orsted template might only be at 0.2%, but apparently, even that tiny sliver came with some useful muscle memory.
DING!
[New Skill Acquired: Minor Core Refinement Lv 1]
An instinctive technique derived from the Orsted Template. Allows the user to purify their mana core by cycling raw mana through their channels, grinding away impurities like spiritual sandpaper. Inefficient, but effective. At this level, the conversion rate is abysmal—expect to waste a lot of mana for minimal gains.
"Sandpaper," I muttered. "Lovely. My soul is being sandpapered."
I sat up, crossing my legs in a rough meditation pose. The position felt natural, another gift from Orsted's borrowed memories. I closed my eyes, focusing inward, and for the first time, I truly saw my mana core.
It was... ugly.
The Black core sat in the center of my chest like a lump of coal that had been left in a fireplace for too long. It pulsed with power—enormous power—but the surface was cracked, clouded, choked with impurities that looked like veins of dark sludge running through the crystalline structure. No wonder Black cores were considered useless. It was like having a nuclear reactor buried under a mountain of garbage.
But beneath that grime, I could feel it. The potential. The raw, terrifying might that waited to be unleashed.
"Alright," I breathed. "Let's clean house."
I reached for my mana, pulling it from the core in a slow, steady stream. The sensation was strange—like drawing water from a well, except the water was liquid lightning and the well was inside my soul. The mana flowed through my channels, a warm, tingling current that made my skin prickle.
Then I reversed the flow.
Instead of releasing the mana outward, I pushed it back into the core. Not gently—I slammed it against the impurities, using the pressure to grind them away. The sensation was... unpleasant. Like scraping sandpaper across the inside of my ribcage. I gritted my teeth and kept going.
Mana flowed out. Mana flowed in. The cycle continued, each revolution wearing away a microscopic layer of corruption.
-50 MP
The system helpfully tracked my mana expenditure. I watched the number tick down, each pulse of refinement consuming a chunk of my reserves. It was inefficient—horribly so—but I could feel the difference. The core was becoming fractionally cleaner, the impurities slowly dissolving.
-100 MP. -150 MP. -200 MP.
Time lost meaning. I fell into a trance, my entire world narrowing to the rhythm of mana cycling through my core. My body faded away. The forest sounds vanished. There was only the pulse of energy and the slow, grinding work of purification.
-500 MP. -600 MP. -700 MP.
DING!
[Skill Level Up: Minor Core Refinement Lv 1 → Lv 2]
Your technique has improved slightly. The process is still painful and inefficient, but you're wasting marginally less mana now. Congratulations on your marginally less terrible soul-sandpapering.
I barely registered the notification. The work continued, relentless and rhythmic, until finally—
-900 MP.
The quest requirement was met. I released the flow, letting my mana settle back into the core. My eyes fluttered open, and I gasped—actually gasped, my lungs burning as if I'd forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes. Which, honestly, I might have.
DING!
[QUEST COMPLETE: DAILY MANA REFINEMENT]
Your core is slightly less pathetic than it was before. Keep at it, and you might eventually graduate from "walking magical disaster" to "walking magical threat."
Quest Rewards:
*- 1x Gacha Ticket*
*- 100 EXP*
*- 5x Copper Coins*
*- 0.01% Orsted Template Integration*
*[Core Purification Progress: +3%]*
*[Current Core Purity: Black Core - 3% Purified]*
DING!
[LEVEL UP!]
You are now Level 2!
*- All stats increased by 5*
*- 10 Status Points awarded*
The cascade of notifications nearly blinded me. I blinked them away, my mind slowly processing the information. Level 2 already? I'd gotten 100 EXP from the sword quest and another 100 from the mana quest, pushing me over the threshold. The system helpfully displayed my updated EXP status, and I noticed a new line on the status screen:
*EXP: 50/200 (To Next Level)*
So the EXP requirements scaled up. Level 2 needed 200 EXP, and I was already a quarter of the way to Level 3. If I kept completing both daily quests, I'd level up roughly every two days for the near future. The system also displayed a small note: the EXP requirement for Level 4 would be 470. A steep increase, but manageable with consistent effort.
Good to know. Plan the grind, grind the plan.
I pulled up the core purity display again. Three percent. That was... significant. If I could gain 3% purification every day from the quest, I'd reach the Dark Red core stage—the next step up—in about thirty-three days. And that was just from the quest's forced refinement. If I learned to refine my core more efficiently, or used additional mana beyond the 900 MP minimum...
One step at a time, Alexander. You just sandpapered your soul for who-knows-how-long. Maybe take a breather.
I collapsed backward onto the moss, staring up at the canopy. My mana reserves were down to 9,100 out of 10,000. Not critically low, but definitely noticeable. The Slowed Mana Regeneration trait meant I'd recover that naturally over the course of... probably a month. Maybe longer.
Good thing I have potions.
I reached into my Inventory mentally and retrieved three of the Small Mana Potions. They materialized in my hands with a faint shimmer, three glass vials filled with glowing blue liquid. The "lying label" the system had mentioned was visible on the side, complete with a cartoonish drawing of a blueberry that looked suspiciously judgmental.
"Down the hatch," I muttered, uncorking the first one.
The taste was... an experience. The system's warning about "regret and magic" had been entirely accurate. It was like drinking liquid static electricity mixed with the world's most artificial blue raspberry flavoring. My tongue went numb. My teeth tingled. For a brief moment, I could taste colors.
But it worked. Warmth flooded through my channels as the mana replenished, the numbers ticking back up with each potion. Three potions later, and I was back at a full 10,000 MP. I stowed the remaining seven potions in my Inventory—I'd started the day with five from yesterday's quest, plus the five new ones from today, minus the three I'd just used, leaving me with seven.
Resource management. The most important skill for any gacha gamer.
With my mana restored and my core slightly less embarrassing than before, I faced a choice. I could head back to the orphanage, sneak in before anyone noticed my absence, and spend the rest of the day pretending to be a normal, non-reincarnated toddler.
Or I could stay in the forest and keep training.
The sword quest and the mana quest had taken maybe five hours combined. The sun was higher now, approaching mid-morning, but I had the whole day ahead of me. And honestly? The orphanage wasn't exactly calling my name. The lumpy mattress would still be lumpy. Helga's cooking would still be tragic. The other kids would still look at me like I was some kind of weird, quiet gremlin.
Which, to be fair, I absolutely am. But that's beside the point.
I made my decision. Training montage, round two.
The next few hours were devoted to pure physical conditioning. I didn't have a quest guiding me this time—no structured requirements, no guaranteed rewards—but that almost made it better. This was just me, pushing my body because I wanted to. Because every drop of sweat was another step toward the power I needed.
I started with sprints across the clearing, short bursts of speed that left my tiny legs burning. The True Demon Slayer Mark amplified my physical capabilities, and I could feel it working—my reaction time was sharper, my movements more explosive. But a mark could only enhance what was already there, and right now, what was there was a five-year-old's body that had spent most of its life malnourished and sedentary.
Not for much longer.
I ran until my lungs screamed, then I kept running. I did push-ups—or rather, I did the wobbly, questionable approximations of push-ups that my noodle arms could manage. I did sit-ups on the moss, using a tree root to anchor my feet. I found a low-hanging branch and attempted pull-ups, which turned out to be more like "desperate hanging with occasional upward twitching."
But I kept at it. Rep after rep. Set after set. The Transparent World tracked my body's limits, showing me when I was approaching true exhaustion versus when I just felt tired. It was an invaluable tool—without it, I probably would have stopped at the first sign of discomfort. With it, I could push myself to the edge without falling over.
DING!
[Due to intense physical exertion, the following stats have increased:]
*- Stamina +4*
*- Strength +3*
*- Constitution +7*
*- Vitality +3*
*- Agility +2*
I collapsed face-first into the moss, my body a trembling wreck of exhaustion and triumph. The stat gains were enormous—way bigger than yesterday's. Probably because I'd pushed myself harder, or maybe because the system rewarded variety, or maybe just because I was still in the "newbie gains" phase of physical development.
Whatever the reason, I'll take it. That's... let me do the math... Stamina up to 38, Strength to 25, Constitution to 37, Vitality to 31, Agility to 25. I'm becoming an absolute unit. A tiny, adorable, terrifying unit.
I lay there for a while, breathing in the scent of moss and dirt and my own sweat. The forest was quiet around me, the local wildlife having long since learned to give the fear-radiating toddler a wide berth. A few birds had tentatively returned to the edges of my curse's radius, their mana signatures flickering with cautious curiosity.
They're getting used to me. Or at least, they're learning that I'm not actively hunting them. Progress.
Eventually, the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. I'd been in the forest since before dawn, and my body was finally, truly spent. Even the True Demon Slayer Mark's enhanced recovery couldn't keep up with the abuse I'd inflicted on myself today.
I hauled myself upright, using Stick II as a makeshift cane. The branch had survived the day's training admirably, though I'd need to find a replacement soon. Maybe I could convince one of the town's carpenters to make me a proper wooden sword? With my growing copper stash, it might actually be feasible.
Something to look into. Add it to the list.
The walk back to the orphanage was slower than my morning sprint. My legs wobbled with every step, and more than once I had to lean against a tree to catch my balance. The Transparent World guided me along the mana trail I'd left earlier, a shimmering path only I could see.
As I slipped through the gap in the fence and crept back toward the orphanage's rear door, a strange realization settled over me.
No one had noticed.
The orphanage was exactly as I'd left it—loud, chaotic, utterly indifferent to my existence. I could hear Helga's voice barking orders from somewhere inside, the clatter of dinner preparations, the shuffle of the other kids going about their evening routines. Not a single person was wondering where the quiet, weird kid had been all day.
I paused at the back door, my hand on the latch. A part of me—the original Alexander's part, maybe—felt a pang of something sad and small. Loneliness, perhaps. The ache of being forgotten.
But the larger part of me, the reincarnated gamer with a system and a plan, felt something else entirely.
Freedom.
If no one was watching me, no one was restricting me. If no one cared where I went or what I did, I could train all day, every day. I could push myself to the absolute limit without having to explain anything to anyone. The neglect that should have been tragic was, in reality, the greatest gift Helga could have given me.
Thanks for being terrible, Matron. You're help is noted
I opened the door and slipped inside, a tiny, exhausted, profoundly satisfied smile on my face.
STATUS SCREEN - END OF DAY 2
Name: Alexander (LEX)
Race: Dragon-Human Deity Hybrid
Lifespan: 5 / 2,000
Level: 2
EXP: 50/200 (To Next Level)
Class: None
MP: 10,000 / 10,000
HP: 10,000 / 10,000
Elemental Affinities: Wind, Fire
Trait(s): Curse of Fear, Slowed Mana Regeneration, Reincarnated, True Demon Slayer Mark, Sword God Incarnate
Core Stage: Black (3% Purified)
Template Integration:
Dragon God Orsted: 0.21%
Yoriichi Tsugikuni: 1.1%
Stats:
Perception: 80 (+5)
Strength: 25 (+5 from level, +3 from training)
Constitution: 37 (+5 from level, +7 from training)
Agility: 25 (+5 from level, +2 from training)
Resistance: 17 (+5)
Charisma: 27 (+5)
Vitality: 31 (+5 from level, +3 from training)
Stamina: 38 (+5 from level, +4 from training)
Luck: 1010 (+5)
{Status Points: 120}
Skills:
Basic Mana Manipulation Lv 1
Basic Mana Perception Lv 1
Basic Swordsmanship Lv 7
Basic Transparent World Lv 3
Minor Core Refinement Lv 2
Special Skill(s):
Reincarnation Technique (From Orsted) (MAX)
Inventory:
Gacha Ticket x2
Small Mana Potion x7
Copper Coins x15
Small Stamina Potion x2
{Store: Locked - Requires Level 25 & a Class}