The air of Frosthold was colder after the hunt, but Aric felt lighter as he washed the blood and dirt away. A clean tunic, fresh water on his face, and the ache of bruises fading left him sharper than he'd felt in days.
His father was waiting in the solar. Cedric stood tall beside the hearth, arms crossed, firelight playing against the hard lines of his face. But when Aric entered, his father's gaze softened just slightly.
"You've returned," Cedric said. No question, just fact.
Aric nodded. "As promised."
Cedric's lips twitched, almost a smile. "And not empty-handed, I trust. The wilds are good teachers, if one pays the price in sweat and fear."
"I learned, Father. More than I expected."
"Good. Then the time wasn't wasted." Cedric stepped closer, laying one hand briefly on his son's shoulder—a rare show of approval. "Remember, Aric. Growth is earned. Even failure teaches, if you listen."
Afterward, Aric found Lyanna in the courtyard, waiting like she knew he'd appear. Her eyes lit up when he pulled the flowers from his satchel, bundled in a neat twist of cord.
"You brought them!" she squealed, hugging them to her chest. "I told everyone you would."
"They're not much," Aric said, scratching the back of his neck.
"They're perfect," she declared, already darting inside to show their mother.
Elara, true to form, gathered him close in the hall, brushing his hair back as though he were still a boy. "Your father tells me you fought well. I can see it in your eyes—you've come back with more than scratches."
Serina lingered nearby, fussing with his sleeve until Aric rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."
"You bled, didn't you?" she said flatly.
He smirked. "Only a little."
The System snickered in his head.[She's right, Host. You're a walking bruise wrapped in bravado. I approve.]
Aric coughed into his fist and moved to sit at the table for lunch.
"You say that too much for someone who bleeds as often as you do," Serina shot back, though her voice softened.
The System chuckled in his head.[Oh, I like her. Fierce, loyal, and already nagging you like a wife. Keeper material, Host.]
Aric nearly choked on his bread. He ignored it, cheeks burning.
Back in his room, he dropped onto the bed and exhaled. The hunt had been rough, but it had shown him things: where his body faltered, where he needed to be sharper, faster, stronger. The System hummed like a tutor leaning over his shoulder.
[You've been sitting on those stat points like they're pocket money. Time to spend, Host.]
Aric frowned. "If I waste them—"
[Then you learn and adjust. That's the game. But you've already got clues. What gave you trouble in the wilds?]
He thought back. The boars had hit hard; he'd nearly been bowled over more than once. Wolves had been faster than he expected, snapping in from blind angles. He'd run dry on mana, too, gasping after the fourth Arcane Slash.
Strength mattered, but speed and endurance had nearly killed him. Mana had left him helpless. He had to balance.
He breathed out and nodded. "Alright. Let's do this."
A soft chime sounded in his head.
[Distribute Stat Points: 20 available]
Aric tapped his fingers together. "Alright… Strength first." He remembered striking at the boars, the way his blade had failed to bite deep. He added four points. His muscles seemed to hum, like they were holding a secret reserve of power.
[Good call. Nothing's worse than hitting like a child with a toy stick. Welcome to cutting deeper, Host.]
He snorted. "I'll take that."
Next, endurance. He recalled his lungs burning, his arms heavy, his body begging him to stop while the fight raged on. He pushed five points into endurance stat. A warmth spread through his chest, his heartbeat steadier.
HP rose, climbing with his growth. 150. Solid.
[Finally. Now you won't keel over after three swings. Progress.]
"Still hurts, though."
[Training always does. Pain is the tax for survival.]
Aric nodded faintly, then turned to agility. Quickstep had saved his life more than once. Five points there—the world seemed sharper, distances shorter, like his body was ready to move before he was.
[Now you'll trip over fewer roots. Or at least look stylish when you fall.]
Aric rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the thrill running through him.
Four points went into intelligence. Mana pulsed in his veins, thicker, steadier. Arcane Slash no longer felt like it would drain him dry in moments. Finally, two into wisdom—breathing room for his mana to flow back when emptied.
The panel shimmered, numbers changing.
[Status Window]
Name: Aric FrostAge: 10Race: HumanClass: None (Unawakened)
Titles:The Survivor Beyond DeathIncarnation Bearer
Crown Points: 10 CPLevel: 4 (Exp: 50/1000)HP: 150 / 150MP: 50 / 50
Core Stats:STR: 6 → 10AGI: 6 → 11END: 6 → 11DEX: 7INT: 8 → 12WIS: 6 → 8LUK: 3Authority: 0
Stat Points: 0
Skills:Sword Slash (Lv.1)Sword Thrust (Lv.1)Quickstep (Lv.1)Arcane Slash (Lv.1)Tenacity (Passive)
Copy Skill Slots: 2/2 Slots
Inventory:Iron Sword (Beginner's)Minor Health Potions ×3Minor Stamina Potions ×3Basic rations & supplies
Aric studied the panel, heart hammering. The numbers didn't just look higher—they felt higher. His muscles thrummed with new strength, his breath came easier, and the faint ache in his skull eased as mana stirred fuller in his veins.
[Better. Now you're less "walking disappointment" and more "work in progress."]
Aric rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the glowing review."
[You're welcome. Enjoy the honeymoon phase, Host. The world doesn't stay this forgiving forever.]
Aric shut the panel with a thought. He was stronger now. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it was a start.
And for the first time since the ceremony, he believed he could climb.
Aric leaned back, the glow fading. His body felt alive, taut with new strength and sharper control.
[Not bad, Host.]
Aric smirked faintly. "And what's next?"
[Next? You stop relying on numbers and start testing them. Stats don't win fights—how you use them does.]
Aric shut his eyes, the System's voice still buzzing in his head. He was stronger now. And tomorrow, he'd prove it.