After breakfast, Adrian walked outside into the estate's backyard garden. The air was crisp, the morning dew still clinging to the grass. He leaned against one of the old oak trees, taking a long breath before sitting down under its shade.
His body felt as fragile as ever. Even simple movements still brought that familiar dull ache through his chest. He pressed a hand against it and sighed.
"Still the same," he muttered. "I may be reincarnated thirty times, but this body feels like it'll break if I sneeze wrong."
He picked up a small stick beside him, spinning it lazily between his fingers. "And to think this is the son of Duke Arclayne. What a joke."
He looked down at his thin arms — they looked more like those of a scholar than a noble who came from a family of warriors. His family carried the name Arclayne, known for strength, weapon mastery, and resilience. But him? He was the exception. The weakest one in the bloodline.
He tilted his head and squinted toward the sky, remembering his interaction earlier with Reona. The small smile she gave him when he patted her head still lingered in his mind. She rarely smiled like that.
"That little girl," he muttered. "She's way too talented for her age."
Before he could dwell further, a familiar sound chimed in his mind—
Ping.
[Interest Level Detected: Reona Arclayne — Level 2.]
[Condition Met: Positive Emotional Resonance Achieved.]
[Evaluating Host Behavior…]
[Reward Prepared: Special Present.]
[Would you like to open it?]
[YES / NO]
Adrian blinked twice, staring at the translucent box hovering in front of him. "Rewarded for being a decent brother, huh? Guess that's one way to encourage me."
He tapped YES with his finger.
The gift box icon opened slowly, no flash of light, no explosion of color—just a calm, faint warmth spreading out from his chest. The system voice followed.
[Reward Acquired: Permanent Skill — "Body Calibration."]
[Effect: A restoration-type skill designed to heal chronic illness, internal weakness, and long-term physical damage. Gradually rebuilds natural vitality, strengthens organ stability, and restores overall health.]
[Duration: 1 Month for full recovery.]
[Type: Passive / Automatic Activation.]
[Note: Irreversible once activated. The process cannot be paused or canceled.]
Adrian stared at the message, eyes narrowing slightly. "So... not strength, not mana control. It's pure healing."
He pressed his hand over his chest again. Slowly, he began to feel something — a faint, rhythmic warmth that pulsed beneath his ribs. It wasn't power or energy — more like a heartbeat he hadn't noticed before.
His breathing eased. The cold, heavy tightness in his lungs — something he'd gotten used to — felt a little looser, less suffocating. It wasn't dramatic, but it was real.
"So this is what real recovery feels like…" he murmured.
He leaned his head back against the tree, letting the feeling settle. His body wasn't suddenly stronger, but it felt like something had finally started. Like the system had flipped a switch that told his cells, his blood, and his heart to stop giving up.
A thin smile formed on his lips. "If this keeps up, I might actually be able to run again… or swing a sword without coughing my lungs out."
The system window flickered once before disappearing, leaving only the sound of leaves rustling above him.
Adrian took another deep breath — calm, steady, the air feeling clearer than before.
"Alright, system," he muttered with a small grin. "If you're fixing this body, then I'll make sure it's worth your trouble."
"Well," Adrian murmured, his gaze wandering across the gentle morning mist curling above the Arclayne estate's gardens, "since my body is already in the process of rehabilitation, that leaves my mana as the remaining obstacle."
He flexed his hand experimentally. The faint tremor had lessened, though the weakness in his muscles persisted. "Weapon mastery and physical training can wait. Without mana stability, I can't utilize even the most elementary card functions."
He walked a few paces before stopping beneath an old bexarthis tree — a tall, silver-barked species that shimmered faintly under sunlight, known for its calming fragrance. Sitting cross-legged against its trunk, Adrian released a long breath and muttered, "Mana it is, then."
In his past incarnations, he had mastered every existing school of mana refinement — elven circulation methods, dwarven resonance techniques, and even the archaic human compression rituals that bordered on self-mutilation. But those were all created for robust bodies, for mages whose cores had already matured through decades of exposure to dense ambient mana.
He, however, was confined within the fragile frame of an eleven-year-old child who couldn't even withstand prolonged exposure to high-density energy.
"I could reattempt the 'Rapid Convergence Sequence' I designed during my eighth incarnation…" he murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It accelerates core expansion by forcibly overloading the meridian nodes—though at the cost of internal hemorrhage."
He scoffed quietly. "And that would turn this weak vessel into a corpse within minutes."
No. That reckless method was out of the question.
"Then I'll resort to the most rudimentary approach—the atmospheric absorption technique," he decided.
He straightened his back, closed his eyes, and drew a measured breath. The stillness of the garden helped him focus; even the wind seemed to slow in deference.
"Inhale… collect. Exhale… circulate," he whispered, recalling the rhythmic discipline of basic mana cultivation.
He visualized the unseen particles of mana suspended in the atmosphere — an invisible lattice of life essence that threaded through the world like a silent current. To most, it was intangible. To him, it was as familiar as air.
Gradually, he felt it — faint strands brushing against his skin, tracing along his arms like whispers of static. They seeped inward, guided by his will, flowing toward the dormant core resting within his chest.
A subtle tension filled his lungs, not unpleasant, but heavy — the first true sign that his body was accepting the process.
"Mana," Adrian said under his breath, "is a living substance. You don't dominate it. You persuade it."
He deepened his focus. The energy coalesced, tracing faint paths along his meridians. It was weak, fragmented — yet consistent. Every breath brought another sliver into his core.
"The principle remains unchanged," he recited quietly. "Draw from the atmosphere through meditation. Circulate until exhaustion. Allow the core to adapt. When it reaches capacity, it compresses—denser, more potent. That's how advancement is achieved."
Time slipped away unnoticed. The garden's soft light shifted from morning gold to a brighter hue, and still, Adrian maintained his posture — unshaken, unhurried. Sweat gathered along his temples, but his concentration never wavered.
Eventually, his breathing grew heavy, and he could feel the faint burn of exertion deep within his chest. His mana core pulsed once — unstable but functional.
He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. The world seemed sharper, colors faintly more vivid, as if the mana around him had become visible to his senses.
A translucent notification flickered before him.
[Mana Capacity: +9]
[Mana Circulation Efficiency: +6.4%]
Adrian let out a restrained chuckle. "Marginal improvement, but improvement nonetheless."
He leaned his head back against the bexarthis trunk, gazing up through its pale branches. "The pace is glacial, but I expected as much. Even a fractured core responds if you give it the patience it deserves."
For a long moment, he simply sat there, feeling the faint pulse of mana settle inside him — steady, fragile, but undeniably alive.
"If I can maintain this rhythm for the next month," he murmured with quiet resolve, "then when my body finishes its restoration, I'll finally have the foundation I need to return to real combat training."
His lips curved slightly — not arrogance, but anticipation.
"Step by step, Arclayne. Let's see how far this world can take us again."
Every single day, I repeated the same process. Morning meditation under the bexarthis tree, slow mana intake, controlled circulation, and proper release. It was monotonous—tedious even—but progress in mana cultivation had never been about speed.
At first, the results were negligible. My core barely responded, and even drawing a small trace of energy left me light-headed. But after a week and a half of continuous effort, my circulation began to adapt. The once-clogged pathways of my mana veins gradually loosened, allowing the energy to flow without resistance.
Now, every breath I took seemed to draw in a cleaner, denser flow of mana from the air itself.
The familiar chime of the system echoed as I completed my morning session.
[Mana Capacity: +15]
[Mana Circulation Efficiency: +24.7%]
[Mana Improved — Current Capacity: 50]
I stared at the message box for a few seconds, letting the numbers sink in.
Then I blinked. Once. Twice.
And then I couldn't hold it anymore.
"Fifty! Finally—fifty!" I shouted, jumping to my feet and throwing my arms in the air.
The nearby birds scattered into the sky from the sudden noise, but I didn't care. For the first time in this life, I felt genuinely proud of this fragile body.
"I actually did it," I muttered, grinning ear to ear. "My mana finally hit the fifty mark."
To an ordinary noble child, that number might seem laughably small. But to me—a reincarnator who had started from absolute zero in a body that could barely hold a fragment of energy—it was monumental.
I clenched my fists, feeling the subtle hum of mana under my skin. It wasn't just about the amount anymore. I could feel the difference in its quality.
"The mana within me isn't shallow or diluted anymore," I said quietly, half to myself, half to the wind. "It's alive—drawn from the natural flow of the atmosphere, not just the limited reserves of this child's body."
That distinction was crucial. Ordinary mana users relied almost entirely on internal reserves, recycling the same energy through their bodies. But what I cultivated was different — mana that responded to nature itself. Raw, unrefined, but vibrant.
I raised my palm, letting a faint layer of blue light gather across my hand. It flickered once, unstable, but it was enough to make me exhale in satisfaction.
"So this is what refined mana feels like again," I murmured. "Dense, obedient, responsive."
The faint glow dissipated into the air as I relaxed my hand.
"I still can't use my old methods or advanced compression sequences," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "But with a stable fifty capacity and improved efficiency, I can finally start experimenting again."
Adrian Arclayne, once known as a master across countless disciplines, now stood barefoot on the grass, grinning like a child who had just discovered fire.
For the first time in this reincarnation, he felt the quiet thrill of genuine progress.