Chapter 5 – A Glimpse of the System
The evening sky blazed with shades of crimson and gold, the last rays of the sun spilling across the Eisenwald farmlands. The wheat swayed gently in the breeze, golden stalks shimmering like a sea of fire beneath the fading light.
Fenrir stood at the edge of the fields, clutching a wooden practice sword in his hand. Crude, splintered at the tip, and far too light to mimic a real blade, it was little more than a toy. Yet, to him, this wooden stick was more than just a tool—it was a symbol. Every swing was a vow, every ache in his muscles a promise to the future he had sworn to build.
The first step is taken. I made my promise. Now… how do I fulfill it?
He swung the wooden blade once more, his motions awkward but driven. Then, as if in response to his determination, the familiar mechanical chime echoed in his mind.
[System Activation – Basic Interface Unlocked]
Congratulations, Fenrir Eisenwald. Initial access to the System has been granted. Due to your determination and vow, the System will now reveal its basic interface.
Fenrir froze mid-swing. He shut his eyes, and at once a translucent screen appeared before him, glowing faintly in the air. Strange letters formed across the panel—letters he had never seen before, yet his mind comprehended them instinctively, as if he had always known their meaning.
[Basic Status]
Name: Fenrir Eisenwald
Age: 7 years
Bloodline: House Eisenwald (Low Baron)
Level: 1
Aura: 0/10 (Sealed)
Strength: 2
Endurance: 2
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 7
Charisma: 4
Active Skills: –
Passive Skills: Modern Strategy Knowledge (Beginner Tier)
Active Quest: The Child's Promise
Fenrir's eyes narrowed as his heart pounded.
So this is the System that gave me this second chance…
His stats were abysmal. Strength, endurance, agility—all far below what even a peasant child his age might boast. Only one attribute stood out: intelligence. It was no surprise. The decades of accumulated knowledge from his previous life as a strategy enthusiast had fused into this world.
"Two… three… so pitifully low," he muttered, scowling at the numbers. "With this body, I wouldn't last a single strike in a real duel."
But then, his lips curved into a faint, cold smile. Numbers can change. With training, with persistence, with the right decisions… they will grow. The System is not a curse—it is my weapon, my path. If I use it wisely, I will surpass them all.
In the corner of the screen, the words Active Quest glimmered faintly. Fenrir focused, and the panel expanded.
[Quest – The Child's Promise]
Description: You made a vow to your mother to raise the Eisenwald family from the dirt. Take your first step by gaining the trust of the people.
Objective: Earn the trust of 10 villagers. (0/10)
Reward: +5 Charisma, Skill [Leadership Lv.1]
Fenrir stared at it in silence. Then, slowly, he let out a breath. "So it isn't only about fighting or wielding a sword. The System measures leadership. It wants me to prove I can command, that I can inspire loyalty."
His smile deepened, sharp as a wolf's grin. "Good. That's exactly what I need. I won't just be a soldier—I will be a ruler."
That night, in the dim flicker of a candle, Fenrir began to write. With a piece of charcoal on a thin slab of wood, he listed names of villagers he remembered. Their faces, their personalities, who seemed weary, who seemed hopeful, who could be swayed.
He recalled their expressions when his mother distributed food: the gratitude, the hesitation, the whispers. To others, they were just fleeting moments. To Fenrir, they were data points—pieces of a puzzle he intended to solve.
If I can plant seeds of trust now, while I'm still small, those seeds will grow. By the time I am grown, they will follow me without hesitation.
The door creaked open behind him. Elena stepped inside, carrying an extra blanket. "Fenrir, it's late," she said softly. "You need rest. Your body is still growing. Don't overwork yourself."
Fenrir quickly slid the wooden board under his bed. "Yes, Mother. I was just… thinking."
Elena lingered for a moment, studying him with quiet suspicion. Then she sighed and placed the blanket down, kissing his forehead before leaving.
The door shut. Fenrir exhaled slowly and brought the glowing panel back to view. His eyes rested on the line that mocked him most: Aura: 0/10 (Sealed).
"Aura… the true power of this world. Every knight, every noble depends on it. Without aura, all my strategies will eventually crumble."
As though responding, the System pulsed again.
[Hint: Aura can be awakened through disciplined training, focus, and extreme emotional states. Related quest will unlock soon.]
Fenrir clenched his fists. "So not yet. But I'll be ready."
The next morning, he tried.
Fenrir sat cross-legged in the backyard, breathing slowly, deeply. The morning air was crisp, tinged with the earthy scent of damp soil. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, searching for something more than flesh and blood.
At first, there was nothing but emptiness. But then—faintly—he felt it. A flicker deep within his core, like a spark struggling to ignite. It was weak, fleeting, almost nonexistent.
That's it… aura.
The instant he realized it, the sensation vanished, leaving only silence. Sweat rolled down his forehead, his small body trembling. "So fragile… but it was real."
The System chimed.
[Progress Detected: Awakening Aura – 1%]
Fenrir's lips curled. "Then I'll try again. Again, and again. I've lived with monotony before. I survived years in a lifeless routine. Here, every drop of effort has meaning. I'll make it count."
Days passed. His routine solidified: mornings helping his mother, afternoons playing the role of the young baron, evenings training with his wooden sword, and nights attempting to touch the elusive spark of aura.
But he never forgot the quest. He visited the peasants, speaking with them, lifting sacks too heavy for his small frame, giving advice drawn from knowledge centuries beyond this world.
"Plant earlier this year, Master Garet. The frost will come sooner than usual."
"Let me help with that, Aunt Maren. Even a child's hands can lighten the load."
"I'll speak to Father about easing the taxes if I can. Your struggles shouldn't be ignored."
At first, they laughed softly. The little lord speaking like a grown man—it was amusing. But slowly, the laughter turned into curiosity, then into respect.
[Trust Progress: 3/10 villagers]
Fenrir smirked when the notification appeared. Three already. Seven more, and my first step as a leader begins.
Not all welcomed him, however.
One afternoon, as Fenrir spoke to a few village children about learning letters, a stern figure approached. Branik, one of the village heads, a man known for his stubbornness. His eyes were sharp, his voice cutting.
"Young master," he said coldly, "I respect your blood, but you should know your place. The people don't need lectures from a child. You'll only confuse them."
Fenrir faced him calmly. So here it is—my first real test. Not of the sword, but of words.
"Uncle Branik," Fenrir replied evenly, "you're right. I'm just a child. But I know this: if this village stays weak, we'll all suffer. I don't want to confuse anyone. I only want to help. If I'm wrong, then I'll stop. But if I'm right… don't you want your family to live better too?"
Branik stiffened. His expression hardened, yet his eyes betrayed a flicker of thought. He said nothing, only grunted and walked away.
Fenrir's smile was faint but victorious. Seeds. Even in rejection, seeds are planted.
The System chimed:
[Hidden Progress: Potential Trust – Branik: 20%]
Fenrir exhaled in satisfaction. So the System measures not only outcomes, but possibilities. Every word matters. Every step counts. Good. That means I can turn resistance into opportunity.
That night, under a sky glittering with stars, Fenrir stood at his window. The villagers' whispers echoed in his mind, his mother's embrace warmed his heart, his father's weary eyes fueled his determination.
"This is only the beginning," he whispered to the cold air. "I may be weak now, but with the System, with my knowledge, with my will… I'll walk the long road to the throne."
The full moon cast its light upon him, silver and solemn. In his chest, a tiny spark of aura flickered again—small, fragile, but growing. A fire was kindling within him, a fire that one day would set the world ablaze.
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