Zian Herga.
The protagonist of [The Hero Left the Academy] had to be expelled. It was cruel, but necessary. Without that fall, he would never gain the system, [The Voice of the Strong].
Ruvian's quill stopped moving.
"But if things follow the script, the system's flaws will ruin him. That's a major problem."
At first glance, [The Voice of the Strong] was everything a power fantasy demanded. It rewarded perseverance, grew in tandem with the wielder's will, mirroring their strength.
Zian would grow stronger each time he refused to fall, each time he stood again when the world tried to bury him.
It was beautiful in its simplicity.
But hidden in that loop was the rot. The stronger the will, the stronger the system. That much everyone saw, but what they didn't see was what the author had buried, which was the inverse.
When Zian faltered, when grief or despair cracked his resolve, the system faltered too.
"The author had clearly meant it that way. A neat little trick to rein in an overpowered main character and keep the story interesting."
He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
If he did nothing, Zian would receive the system, as intended, and the flaw would claim him when it mattered most.
But if Zian never got the system at all? If someone interfered with that critical moment?
'No. That was worse. Infinitely worse!'
Without [The Voice of the Strong], Zian wouldn't survive the next major arc. He wouldn't make it to the calamity. He wouldn't become the hero this world needed, let alone the symbol it was promised.
"He must get the system. But the flaw has to be managed."
"I need to contribute to that part then…"
That was the only path forward. He couldn't derail the story too much. The world had a way of fighting back against anything that strayed too far from the path.
But small changes? Tiny ripples instead of tidal waves?
Maybe that was 'alrighty'.
Ruvian remained still for what felt like hours, his gaze fixed on the ink that slowly dried on the page before him. His thoughts pressed down on him, but he folded the paper carefully and slipped it into his satchel.
He couldn't say whether his plan would succeed but he could only try. Honestly, he was still uncertain; there were a lot of things flowing in his head, but it wasn't enough to paralyse him.
Furthermore, he still had other matters to confirm first: which version of the draft this world is. Was it the first draft? Or the second? Or the latest one?
'I need to know that first.'
'If so, I need to visit that person for confirmation then.'
There was no more time for passivity.
He had to test his own abilities, too. To grasp what had transferred with him into this world and what hadn't, to feel out the boundaries of his potential and map the fault lines of his weaknesses.
'I wonder… how strong am I?'
In the novel, it had always been conveniently simple. Every character could summon their own Runeheart—their status profile with a flicker of thought.
It was a glowing pane of readable data detailing their stats, affinities, and potential, all laid bare in neat, digestible columns.
'Let's check that first.'
He shut out the noise, reaching deeper into his own world of awareness.
Then, they took shape.
The Dead Runes.
Ancient symbols, glowing like they'd just woken up from a nap, were floating lazily in front of his eyes. Their meaning? Who even knows? Maybe even the author didn't, perhaps even the gods didn't!
Ruvian stared at them for a long moment, a crooked smirk brushing on his face.
"So, this is what they looked like," he said.
The runes were beautiful in that abstract, haunting way that ancient things often were. The author had never described them in any useful detail.
Always hinting, dancing around their purpose like it would ruin the mystique if she just said what they actually did.
His memory of @DuchessOfGoon scolded him, tugged at him:
—"Hey, you'll ruin the fun if you ask the author too much. What's the point of you being a proofreader if she spoils everything for you? That's not proofreading, that's proof-listening."
'Now that I think about it… why was she the one scolding me? That fool…'
'Well, at least, the author did share a few things regardless…'
The author did mention that [The Dead Runes] were remnants of the Lost Nomav, a civilisation buried so far in time it might as well have existed in metaphor.
They were the first to discover mana, the first to bend it, and the first to craft it into meaning.
Rune-crafting was their legacy, and magic was their language.
Most scholars spent their entire lives trying to reconstruct even a fragment of Nomav's knowledge. And the important part was that these runes made up everyone's Runeheart in this world.
Luckily, Ruvian's memories and his understanding of Rune Language allowed him to understand a fragment of how to read them. Not fully or perfectly, most of it was rough guesswork, half-deciphered meanings pieced together from the knowledge of this body's previous owner, but it was enough.
It's plenty for now.
'Hopefully...'
Ruvian shifted his focus, forcing the ancient symbols into some semblance of order. Their patterns began to align slowly.
Ruvian sat there, staring at the glowing ancient symbols.
This was his status window.
Also known as the Runeheart in this world.
{}---『RUNEHEART』---{}
◇ Name: Ruvian Castelor
◇ Age: 17
◇ Spellcore: Tier 1
◇ Rank: Fifth-Class Magus
◇ Magic Affinity: None
[Mana Resonance: (0/100)]
==[General Attributes]==
Strength: F
Agility: F
Endurance: F
Vitality: F+
Perception: E-
==[Magic Attributes]==
Mana Control: F+
Casting Speed: F
Magic Power: F-
Mental Strength: S
Mana Sensitivity: E-
Mana Essence: [150/150]
==[Innate Blessings]==
- [Blessing of Indomitable Will]
==[Affinity Mastery]==
- [Pure Mana (Basic)]
==========
"Ugh, pathetic is an understatement, my stats are downright disgraceful."
He shook his head, refocusing his attention.
His eyes remained fixed on the letters suspended in the air before him. They glistened with a soft golden hue, hovering like fireflies trapped in invisible glass.
With an ability assessment like this, the chance of him becoming significantly stronger anytime soon was virtually nonexistent.
"No, wait. My [Mental Strength] is S? Hold on! This guy has a blessing!"
In this world, blessings were exceedingly rare as they are granted only to a select few.
'According to the author, it was impossible for two individuals to bear the same blessings in this world. In other words, I am the only person to possess this blessing…'
"And judging from the name…"
Ruvian inspected his blessing.
[Indomitable Will].
[Description]: Grants exceptional mental fortitude. The bearer possesses heightened resistance to mental interference, fear, and mind-affecting magic. Magical effects that target consciousness are significantly weakened.
Additionally, the bearer can endure far greater mental strain when casting magic.
"This is… a very good blessing to have. It's a very solid foundation, too."
He was actually bewildered to have that blessing at his disposal. But something else had caught his attention more.
He can also see his [Mana Resonance], [Spellcore Tier], [Innate Blessings], and [Magic Affinity]!
That was abnormal. In this world, no one could view those details through their [Runeheart]. At most, people could check their [General Attributes] and their [Magic Attributes] only.
Anything beyond that was simply inaccessible.
'Could it be a special privilege… just for me, since I've proofread this novel?'
'Maybe it really is.'
"Hmm, also… all I know is basic mana manipulation from Ruvian's memories and a few Tier 1 spells."
Anyone who has awakened their Spellcore will have their own [Spell Catalog] to record their spell collection and progression in their [Runeheart].
Ruvian wanted to inspect his collection of spells, but then, he remembered that he didn't have much, really.
Only 3 at most.
[Identify]
[Ignite]
[Body Enhancement]
Ruvian couldn't help but sigh when he recalled the 3 spells that OG Ruvian had learned. His spell arsenal was low.
He needed more.
Of course, learning and understanding it would take a while, but mages in this world can easily cast any spell as long as they know the correct chant.
But again, it's not as simple as it sounds. Chanting required vast knowledge of the Dead Runes language. And it's not something easy to learn.
"Yeah, this won't do. And not to mention that this Ruvian has a very low [Mana Essence]."
[Mana Essence] was the heart of every warrior and mage, a storage and reservoir of their strength. How can he cast powerful and multiple spells if his reservoir was shallow at best?
'It seems like I also need to find a way to get my hands on the best mana cultivation technique.'
[Cosmic Fountain Circulation]
He needed to get his hand on that.
If he couldn't…
Then, becoming stronger before the first major test will be more difficult.
He sighed in exasperation, calmly this time.
For him to navigate this dangerous world, he still needs strength and power. Without them, it was the same as he was courting his own death.
The breeze brushed across his cheek, slipping through the window's iron frame. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing it to wash over him.
"Well. If I can't grow strong fast enough to survive what is coming…"
If he can't do that yet.
"Then I just need to make sure the ones around me can."
"Especially that naive protagonist of this world."
──────── ✦ ────────
[Chapter 6: His Name Now (2)]