I sat on my bed, staring at the coins in my palm.
Fifty silver.
They looked… unreal.
I turned one over with my thumb. It was heavy. Solid. Enough money that, in our village, it could change a family's year.
"…She's insane," I muttered.
Then the air shifted.
[System Notification]Available Functions Unlocked▸ Information Purchase▸ Skill Books▸ Skill Rank Enhancement▸ Skill Slot Expansion
I blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
The interface expanded before me, lines of text scrolling calmly as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
Skill Books:– D–C Rank: Available– B Rank: Limited– A Rank and above: Locked
Cost Reference:– B Rank Skill: ~500 Gold– Skill Slot Expansion: 1500 Platinum
I felt my soul leave my body.
"Who is paying that?" I whispered.
Ten million yen for a B-rank skill?Fifteen hundred platinum for a skill slot?
And yet—
Skill Rank Enhancement: Available
That caught my attention.
I scrolled.
I hesitated only a moment before placing the coins down.
"All of it," I said quietly. "Transfer."
The silver vanished.
Just—gone.
[Currency Transfusion Successful]
"…Huh."
No light. No sound.
Just confirmation.
For some reason, that made it feel even more serious.
I focused on Wind Slash.
Wind Slash — Rank CTier: Spark IUpgrade Available: Spark IICost: 30 Silver
I exhaled.
"Do it."
Pain flared briefly in my arms and chest—not sharp, but deep, like my muscles were being rewritten rather than torn.
Upgrade CompleteWind Slash — Spark II
I clenched my fist.
It felt… smoother.
Cleaner.
I used the remaining silver to purchase a magic book—one that didn't hum ominously or hide secrets. Just knowledge.
That night, I read.
Magic ranks—F through Z—measured potential.
But within each rank were sub-ranks:
I → II → III → IV → V
Only after reaching V would a skill advance to the next rank.
Simple.
Brutal.
Fair.
"…So that's how people stagnate," I murmured.
I closed the book.
Not me.
The next day, I went into the woods.
A boar appeared—smaller than the ones me and my father normally hunt,
but still dangerous.
I steadied myself.
Focused.
A thin crescent of compressed wind tore through the air.
The boar collapsed instantly.
I stared.
"…That worked."
I didn't know it.
But someone else had seen everything.
Father stood at the edge of the trees, frozen.
That wasn't luck, he realized.That wasn't normal.
He turned and walked home without a word.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Mother noticed first.
"You're late," she said, setting down a bowl. "Did something happen?"
Father didn't answer right away. He sat at the table, hands clasped, staring at the wood grain like it held the right words.
"I saw him," he finally said.
Mother froze.
"…Saw who?"
"Our son."
Her fingers tightened around the cloth in her hands. "Doing what?"
Father took a slow breath.
"Using magic."
The room seemed to shrink.
"That's not funny," Mother said sharply.
"I'm not joking."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.
"He was alone," Father continued. "In the woods. and... killed a boar in one strike."
Mother sat down slowly.
"…How strong?"
Father hesitated.
"Too strong."
They didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, Mother whispered, "We can't send him to the capital."
"I know," Father replied immediately. "The cost alone—"
"And the danger," she added. "Academies aren't kind to talent without backing."
Father nodded. "I know."
Another pause.
"…But if we don't," Mother said quietly, "someone else will notice."
A knock interrupted them.
Three sharp taps.
They both turned toward the door.
Uncle Garen stepped inside, taking one look at their faces and frowning.
"What happened?"
Father stood. "You need to hear this."
Garen listened without interrupting, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
When Father finished, Garen exhaled slowly.
"…So it's begun."
Mother snapped her head up. "You knew?"
"I suspected," Garen admitted. "I didn't think it would be this soon."
Father clenched his fists. "We don't have the money."
"I do," Garen said.
They stared at him.
"Not all of it," he continued. "But enough to make it possible."
Mother shook her head. "You're asking us to throw him into a world that will chew him up."
Garen met her eyes. "Or you let him walk into it unprepared."
Silence fell again.
Finally, Mother spoke.
"...Thirteen."
Father looked at her.
"If he's still like this," she said, voice trembling but firm, "when he turns thirteen… we send him."
Garen nodded. "I'll make the arrangements by then."
Father closed his eyes.
"…Gods help him."