He hesitated, his fingertip hovering just above the glowing button. The strange light cast faint shadows across his trembling hand, making his skin look pale and translucent, like marble. Then—without warning—a voice echoed inside his head, cold yet strangely familiar.
It didn't sound like it came from the air, but from the very center of his skull. Startled, he pulled his hand back in alarm, his pulse quickening until he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
"You could simply speak the word that you see before your eyes, and the list of spells shall unfold for you.
You do not need to press the display with your hand, you know… um, you're aware of it, aren't you? Okay, no matter. The thing is, you can do the same just by thinking it. Any process you could carry out physically may instead be performed with thought alone. It will still be counted as command."
The voice fell silent at last, leaving a ringing void in Kaelen's mind. For a few moments, he simply stood there in the center of the clearing, wide-eyed, waiting to see if it would say more. The silence of the woods felt heavier now, as if the trees themselves were leaning in to hear the conversation.
But it seemed the system had nothing else to add.
"Okay… that actually sounds more efficient this way. Especially if I'm ever in the middle of a fight," he admitted under his breath, his thoughts racing at a frantic speed. "If I don't need to fumble with buttons, I can focus on summoning spells naturally," he added, a faint, understanding smile touching his lips.
He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a breath of the damp forest air, then whispered the word in his mind, firm and clear: Spells.
At once, the air around him shimmered. A new screen unfurled before his eyes, glowing with shifting lines of text and arcane symbols that seemed to pulse in time with his own heartbeat.
The spell tab was no simple list—it was a tapestry of ancient knowledge. Each entry was laced with requirements and hidden conditions. Small glowing runes, jagged and sharp, pulsed with unreadable power. Some spells demanded a certain level of mastery; others required skill points—tokens of energy to awaken them from their slumber. Each had its own precise cost, measured in the essence of his own mana.
Descriptions hovered beside each spell, whispering fragments of how the enchantments were meant to be woven, what purpose they served. What struck Kaelen most were the shimmering, translucent images—brief moving illusions—demonstrations of the spells themselves: flames roaring with a life of their own, storms crackling with violet lightning, shadows stretching into monstrous, grasping shapes.
The design was intricate, almost alive, as though the system itself breathed, testing him, tempting him with glimpses of godhood. Some spells demanded quests to unlock; others waited like dormant beasts for the right level to rouse them.
Kaelen scrolled downward, his eyes devouring the information, awe rising like a tide within him. The higher-level spells glowed faintly but were locked behind gray symbols, unreachable until he grew stronger. The sight filled him with a sudden, sharp hunger—a deep burning urge.
He wanted to rise, to climb faster, to grasp the power that could level mountains, the kind of strength that could make him unstoppable. A faint smile touched his lips, shadowed by a flicker of ambition and dark desire.
The categories unfolded like paths through an endless labyrinth—Fire, Water, Lightning, Earth, and more—each brimming with destructive potential, whispering promises of chaos.
He saw names that seared themselves into his mind: Hellfire, Meteor Storm, Inferno Gale—descriptions painting vivid images of firestorms capable of reducing armies to ash, meteors crashing down to shatter the very crust of the earth.
Yet there were gentler, subtler spells as well—teleportation that bent distance like paper, invisibility that veiled a figure in silence, levitation to slow a deadly fall, and ancient protections meant for cunning survivors.
Kaelen could barely take it all in, his chest tightening with a thrill he hadn't felt since before the crash. He had seen perhaps half of what the system promised, yet he was bound—limited—to the simplest of spells for now. The system had granted him but one element to start with: Fire.
His gaze caught a spell at the very bottom of the list, glowing with a soft, persistent heat.
"Fireflies," he breathed, his voice trembling for a second.
His first real attack spell—well, not counting the levitation spell, which wasn't really meant for combat. This one was different. A real weapon. The thought surged through him like a spark catching dry tinder.
The word left his lips like a secret carried on the wind. At once, the description blossomed before his eyes, the letters shimmering as though they had been traced in liquid fire.
A basic fire spell, it read. Summoning a single firebolt of living flame—a small, floating spark that hovers near its caster. Should danger draw within five meters, the firebolt locks onto the threat and launches itself like a burning dart. The caster may also command it to strike a chosen enemy, up to fifteen meters away.
As Kaelen read, the glowing text shifted like embers dancing in the dark. Beneath it, another passage appeared, outlining its true purpose and its path to evolution.
"This spell is ideal for beginners, perfect for honing control and precision.
Though simple, it grows with practice. Use it enough, and it will evolve eventually. At forty-five percent mastery, you may summon two firebolts; at sixty-five percent, three. When mastery reaches one hundred, a new and stronger fire spell will awaken."
Kaelen's eyes widened as he read further, his heartbeat echoing in his ears, his attention snagged by a single, crucial line—Cost: 3 Magic Points per firebolt.
"My current magic pool… fifteen of fifteen. That means I can cast it only five times before I'm empty. And if I run out… what then?"
The weight of his vulnerability pressed in on him. He looked up at the sky, where the morning sun was now fully visible above the treeline.
"System—if my magic drops to zero, can I recover it?"
"Certainly. Your magic replenishes during rest and sleep. There are other ways—potions that refill reserves, spells converting life points into mana, and certain foods and drinks that stabilize your energy."
The explanation stretched, almost meticulous in its detail, yet Kaelen clung to every word. Relief flickered across his face, cooling the heat of his anxiety.
"That's perfect," he whispered, his gaze lifting to the shimmering blue bar marking his magical essence. "If this grows as I level, my strength will grow with it… just like in the games."
He glanced back at the spells tab, calculating his limitations—fifteen points, five summons. Not much, but it was a beginning, the seed of something greater. He would need to use his resources wisely, never wasting a single spark, never emptying his reserves when danger lurked nearby.
Before he could experiment with the summoning, the voice returned, sharp and sudden, cutting through his thoughts like a knife.
"Spell Firefly is available at Level One, but you must invest a skill point to unlock it."
Kaelen grimaced, his heart sinking. The truth pressed down on him like a physical weight.
"But I already used my only point on the last ability! How am I supposed to unlock this now? System, tell me—are there other ways to gain skill points besides leveling up?"
"Yes. Special side quests appear from time to time, offering rewards—treasures, points of power, and skill tokens to awaken new spells."
Hope flared in his cobalt eyes, excitement trembling at the edge of his voice.
"And… is there such a quest available now?" He leaned forward, as if the screen could answer him faster if he were closer.
Silence stretched. The glowing runes pulsed faintly, as if the system itself were hesitating, testing the depth of his resolve. The wind picked up, rattling the dry leaves at his feet.
Finally, words carved themselves in violet fire across the air, clear and ominous.
Side Quest Detected. Objectives are now loading.
The letters flared brighter, burning into his vision. Each word felt colder than the last, despite the fire that birthed them.
"Take into account that each quest you accept can change you. Accept, and you may not return the same," the system warned, its voice sounding deeper, more resonant.
Then… silence. His thoughts ran deep, heavy with anticipation. He felt the phantom weight of the presence inside him. Only the sound of the wind and the rustle of fallen leaves filled the night-stained clearing. He looked toward the path ahead. that road leads to one direction. deeper into the woods.