Merlin lay sprawled on his bed, ceiling gazing in the darkness like he always did whenever he'd had his mood soured, the events of the day flashing through his mind. He couldn't get himself to stop thinking about what might have happened to him if Janeth hadn't stepped in out of instinct to shove him out of the way before Nora's Air ball had hit. And that brought him to a painful realization, that even with the System, he was still very much useless.
All he had going for him was his ability to deconstruct spells, but even that wasn't all powerful. And, from what had happened earlier, he had learned that when he couldn't use his ability, he would be left vulnerable. Which, in his current state, would be more often than not.
From what he recalled in Singularity Mage, spells were divided into two classifications: Novice and Advanced. And both had tiers that went up to three. A Novice spell was simply a spell that was still in its basic state; the mana it was cast with was crude, and the Mage doing the casting had little to no experience with magic. These types of spells were also referred to as Novice, Tier I, in spell casting. Tier II was when the spell could now be launched, and which implied a substantial improvement in the Mage's mana control. And, then, there was Tier III, when the Mage had achieved mana perfection on the basic level, and could launch spells without being faced with much or any difficulties.
It did not take a genius to see that Nora was well on that path. A few more days, tops, and she would have achieved Novice spell casting, Tier III. Merlin, however, felt like he was barely making any progress. At this rate, practicing with Nora would just be equivalent to him holding her back. That would eat him alive. And he didn't even want to consider how things would turn out when she'd become an Advanced spell caster. At that point, she would just be better off not having anything magic related to do with him. After all, he could get hurt.
But Merlin didn't want that. He didn't want to be so far back behind his sister. He didn't want to feel like a deadweight. And he knew sulking would not get him out of the slump he was in. The sensible option for him right now, was to double—no, triple—his work process. Three hours in the morning was not enough time for him to see significant progress. He had to level up his Strength as quickly as possible, and move on to his Intelligence. And that wasn't all. He also had to find a way to protect himself if it ever turned out that he was unable to deconstruct a spell.
For that, he could only think of one solution. The Warrior route.
Merlin gnashed his teeth in frustration.
Honestly, it was senseless of him to loathe being a Warrior so much. For one, Kieran had been somewhat of one in Singularity Mage. Of course, not fully, since the journey of Kieran through the web novel was focused on him growing as a Mage despite his circumstances. But the protagonist had dabbled in a bit of sword fighting as a means to be able to protect himself at the start.
The thing, though, was, Merlin had no problems reading about a sword wielding protagonist, and it was not like he had completely self inserted into Kieran. He had just wanted to see things from the point of view of a Mage who could cast no spells at the time, that was all.
And maybe that was why he was so pissed.
He had never once thought that he would end up the way he had, but it had happened, and, now, in his ears was a voice whispering, telling him that if he picked up a sword and not a Grimoire, it would mean that he was giving up on his dream of becoming a Mage. It would mean that he had accepted that he would never become a Mage.
That scared Merlin.
He was not as strong willed as Kieran, and neither did he possess the talent of the protagonist. Kieran had had all the odds against him—no access to his world's library, nor its Academies for being a commoner, as well as ending up with a little mana pool—but he had pulled through. And even though he had picked up a sword countless times on his journey, he'd never strayed off the path of being a Mage.
Merlin was frightened that such wouldn't be the case with him. What if he picked up a sword and forgot all about the essence of being a Mage? What if he ended up loving the sword more than a Grimoire? What if he ended up hating magic?
Those thoughts pushed Merlin up from his bed sharply, prompting him to sit cross-legged instead.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't pick up a sword. There had to be some other way he could fight as a Mage that couldn't cast spells. There had to be…
An idea suddenly popped up in Merlin's head, and he took a moment to consider it. If he didn't want to pick up a weapon, something that wasn't a Grimoire, then the only choice he had left was to fight with what he had. And that was his own fists.
Boxing was all he could think of.
However, that would change the whole concept of being a Mage regarding him. After all, to strike, he would need to close the distance between his opponents and take them head-on within their own domain. That would be a suicide mission when fighting against the monsters in Dungeons and Towers. It was not like he would be able to deal any damage to them with just his fists; there was a reason why magic and weapons were used.
Although, Merlin was not a normal Mage to begin with. He was a Deficient Mage, and he had to grasp any lining he could find. At the very least, learning boxing would make him a lot sharper. Even if he couldn't attack the monsters, he would at least be able to evade attacks without needing anyone to swoop in and save him—Janeth included.
That idea sat with Merlin for a few more seconds, and at the end of his back and forth with himself in his head, he was more than happy to go through with it. The problem now was… Where was he to start from?
His phone rang at that moment, and he picked it up to see a notification from Janeth. His heart skipped a beat, but for a different reason than it usually did.
Merlin was embarrassed due to the turn of events earlier. And, even though they were not standing across from each other at this moment, he still wanted to hide his face from her. However, ignoring her texts would only make him look pitiful and even more annoyed with himself, so he checked it regardless. He didn't want to be rude.
[Janeth Park: Hey. How are you doing? Are you alright now? You were out of it back at the gym.]
He was fine—painfully so. Because if his arm had been hurting, that would have meant that he had successfully deconstructed Nora's Air ball, and his thoughts of being useless had no place in his head. But that was not the case.
[Merlin Tyrrell: I'm fine. Thank you for asking—and saving me.]
[Janeth Park: Eh, don't mention it. Anyone would have done that. Well, I just wanted to check up on you. Have a good night.]
Merlin's eyes suddenly widened. Perhaps he could ask Janeth for help concerning his boxing plans?
He only took a moment to agree with his thoughts. There was no point in wasting time. The earlier he could figure out where he was headed, the better.
[Merlin Tyrrell: Wait. I have a question. Do you mind indulging me?]
He quickly typed in, and the three dots signifying Janeth typing came up shortly after.
[Janeth Park: I don't mind. Shoot.]
Merlin's fingers hovered above his screen for a few seconds as he was unsure of how to compose his message so that he didn't come off the wrong way. After all, it was not like he and Janeth were particularly close. They had only known each other for—what?—two days? So asking for a favor already could seem a bit…direct.
However, he was not in the right place to be thinking about what others thought of him. If he wanted to make use of the opportunity he had, then he would have to grab the bull by its horns.
He typed…
[Merlin Tyrrell: So…uhm…the thing is, I'm thinking about getting into boxing. I don't really know where to start, and I was wondering if you might have some idea, or, maybe, know someone who could help. Sorry, if this is unexpected, I just don't really have anyone else to ask.]
Well, he did have the internet, if he was to be completely honest. That was how he'd found the gym after all. But…for some reason, he just felt more at peace with asking Janeth for help.
Of course, if she couldn't be of assistance he would have to fall back onto the bearer of any and almost every information, but he would take his chances for now.
Those chances, though, seemed to be crumbling.
Ten seconds had passed and Janeth was yet to reply. Merlin was on the verge of pulling at his hair. He reread his message over and over again, seeking what he might have typed in to ruin it all, and then she began typing. He sighed in relief. It would have been awkward going to the gym from then on.
[Janeth Park: Sorry. I had to quickly get something out of the way. Boxing, huh? Yeah, I guess. Well, not me, but Sunny. He always used to like boxing. I'll ask him if he can be of help.]
Merlin's eyes softened, filling with an inner glow. He leaned closer to his phone, his heart racing as he typed…
[Merlin Tyrrell: Thank you so much. I'm really, really grateful. I'll be in your debt.]
[Janeth Park: I'll hold you to that then. Goodnight. ;)]
Merlin smiled, and replied with a 'goodnight' of his before putting off his phone. He then leaned backwards on his bed and exhaled deeply.
He would have wanted to meet with Nora right now and tell her of his decision, but he knew better than anyone how much she wanted to be alone at this moment. Even while they'd had dinner, she had not said a single word to him.
It wasn't new—the way she acted. That was how she always got whenever he found himself in a mess or got roughed up, ever since they were kids. Back then, it always took her two good days to come around; thankfully, it had reduced to one now. So he knew that she would be perfectly fine when morning came. He would talk to her then. All he could do for now was rest up in preparation for how hectic his days going forward would be. That and…
System…
[BIO-DATA]
NAME: Merlin Tyrrell
AGE: 17
MAGE CLASS: Deficient
SYSTEM CLASS: ???
[ATTRIBUTES]
STRENGTH: LV. 4
AGILITY: LV. 6
INTELLIGENCE: LV. 2
PERCEPTION: LV. 5
RESILIENCE: LV. 4
[PERKS]:
Reader Mage: Analyze and deconstruct spells, rendering magic completely ineffective against you. Current Intelligence Level is significantly low. Not all spells can be deconstructed.
[Blue Quests ongoing (2):
Strengthen your body, Merlin Tyrrell. (The strength of a Mage not only lies in their prowess with magic, but also in their physicality. A better body makes a better Mage.)
Be clear of mind and spirit, Merlin Tyrrell. (If you are quiet enough, you will hear the flow of the universe. You will feel its rhythm. Go with this flow. Meditation is key. A better mind and soul makes a better Mage.)]
[Progress to leveling up Strength: 4%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Agility: 4.5%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Intelligence: 5%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Perception: 0%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Resilience: 6%/100%]
[Free Attribute Points received: 2.5]
Dump all my A.P into Strength…
[Assigning +2.5 Attribute Points to Strength…]
[Successful]
[+2.5 Attribute Points have been assigned to Strength]
[Blue Quests ongoing (2):
Strengthen your body, Merlin Tyrrell. (The strength of a Mage not only lies in their prowess with magic, but also in their physicality. A better body makes a better Mage.)
Be clear of mind and spirit, Merlin Tyrrell. (If you are quiet enough, you will hear the flow of the universe. You will feel its rhythm. Go with this flow. Meditation is key. A better mind and soul makes a better Mage.)]
[Progress to leveling up Strength: 5.25%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Agility: 4.5%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Intelligence: 5%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Perception: 0%/100%]
[Progress to leveling up Resilience: 6%/100%]
[Free Attribute Points received: 0]
With that settled, Merlin fell face-first into his pillow, not even bothering to dwell on how far he was from leveling up. He thought that he at least deserved to rest, even if for a bit. The past two days had been too much for him to handle—and he was very much tired—so he just let his exhaustion take him.