Chapter: 1 [The Awakening] [1]
The room was opulent, a majestic expanse that blurred the line between a high-end medical ward and a five-star hotel suite. Expensive oil paintings—portraits of stern ancestors and sweeping landscapes of the Nasel Kingdom—hung on the walls, their gold frames gleaming under recessed, warm-toned lighting.
Meanwhile, sleek, high-tech machines hummed with a rhythmic, expensive precision, their cooling fans whispering like the breath of some slumbering beast. To any outsider, it would be a wonder—a sanctuary of high-end facility and wealth that seemed to mock the very concept of illness.
In the center of this luxury sat a plush, majestic bed, draped in high-thread-count silk and large enough to comfortably fit half a dozen people. I lay there, a sickly pale figure swallowed by the vastness of the mattress, my eyes closed as I drew in the sharp, cold air drifting from the half-open glass windows.
The breeze carried a sterile cocktail of scents: the sharp, stinging bite of high-grade alcohol, the herbal bitterness of expensive medicine, and something else—the faint, electric thrum of mana that seemed to vibrate against my very skin.
Basking in the late afternoon sunlight that spilled across the mahogany floorboards, I took a deep breath. My short black hair, messy from days of bedrest, swayed slightly in the wind, dark strands occasionally covering my eyes and tickling my forehead.
My reflection in the window wasn't strikingly handsome, but it held a certain refined, aristocratic charm; however, immaturity still lingered in the soft, boyish curve of my jaw and the sickly paleness of my features that spoke of a life spent in pampered comfort.
A massive LED screen, covering half the wall opposite my bed, flickered with the afternoon news in high definition. The anchor's mouth moved with practiced grace, reporting on the current headlines of the kingdom's border skirmishes and mana-well discoveries, but the words were mere static to me.
My mind was occupied with something else—something impossible, terrifying, yet now my undeniable reality. I leaned back against the cool silk pillows, taking in that mana-filled air once more. For three days, I had been trapped in this cycle of agonizing disbelief. I was thrilled to the core, my skin prickling with non-stop goosebumps that felt like tiny electric shocks.
At times, I felt as if invisible hands were strangling my throat, reminding me of my precarious position, yet, paradoxically, I felt a strange sense of peace in the quiet luxury of this prison.
The heavy silence of the room was broken only by the continuous, melodic beeping of the mana-meters and electronic monitors surrounding me. There were dozens of them—some compact and sleek with glowing blue interfaces, others large and intimidating with jagged red graphs. I didn't fully understand their medical functions, nor did I truly grasp the complex biological shift happening within my cells as they adapted to this new world. I only knew one thing for certain: I was fucked... or maybe not.
"I just don't know how to react," I whispered to the empty, shadowed corners of the room. My own voice sounded foreign to my ears, higher and thinner than the one I remembered from my previous life.
Saying I was happy, sad, or even surprised would be a massive understatement.
After spending twenty years of my life on Earth, grinding through a mundane existence, I had always suspected we weren't alone in the universe. But seeing the truth laid bare before me—the existence of magic, systems, and a world governed by strength—was another thing entirely.
***
[Status]
Name: Ascera Leafs
Age: 15
Rank: H+
EXP: [976 / 1,000] // [2,976 / 3,000]
[Gain 24 more experience to level up.]
***
Manual: Mist Breath [Category: 1 Star]
Description: A basic 1-Star manual enabling the user to gain one extra EXP for every hour of meditation. It filters the ambient mana into a thin mist, making it slightly easier for the body to absorb without straining the mana circuits.
***
I stared blankly at the floating, translucent blue window that hovered in my field of vision and felt a sudden, hysterical urge to laugh.Twenty-four EXP. It sounded like a rounding error, a tiny hurdle at the finish line, yet in this body, it was easier said than done.
From the fractured, painful memories of my new self, 'Ascera Leafs,' I knew this was a world where mana was the ultimate currency, the blood of the universe. It was in the air I breathed, the water I drank, and the gourmet food the nurses brought me. Every living thing, from the smallest blade of grass in the hospital garden to the most terrifying, mountain-sized mana-beast in the wild, was saturated with it.
In this world, strength was the only law, categorized into ranks from [H] all the way to the legendary, world-shaking [SSS]. Each rank was further split into three sub-categories: minus, neutral, and plus.
You needed exactly 1,000 EXP to break through a minor rank, and a total of 3,000 to jump to the next letter grade, a process that felt like dragging a boulder up a mountain.
Most people awakened their mana cores at the age of fourteen, beginning the grueling, lifelong process of absorbing mana. But there was a catch that kept the weak in their place: the human body had strict biological limits.
A person with average talent could only meditate for so long before their veins burned and their vessels threatened to shatter from the pressure, gaining perhaps a measly 1 EXP per hour of excruciating focus.
That was where manuals came in—ranging from 1-Star primers to 6-Star divine scriptures. They were the keys to efficiency, the catalysts of evolution, but they were also obscenely rare and guarded like crown jewels.
In the entire Nasel Kingdom, no one outside the Royal Family and perhaps the highest dukes possessed a 4-Star manual. Even I, the heir of the Leafs Barony—a family with centuries of history—only had access to this measly 1-Star [Mist Breath]. It was a reminder of my family's declining status and my own mediocre talent.
And the hurdles only grew steeper as one climbed the ladder of power.
While the lower ranks—[H], [G], and [F]—required a "manageable" 1,000 EXP per sub-rank, everything changed at [E].
From [E] to [C], the requirement jumped tenfold to 10,000. At [B] and [A], it was a staggering 100,000. And at the peak—the realm of gods, [S] through [SSS]—one needed a soul-crushing 1,000,000 EXP for a single sub-rank.
It was a vast, terrifying gulf of power that made my head spin. A mere [H+] ranker like me was a grain of sand compared to the mountains that walked the upper echelons of this society.
But here was the real kicker, the joke that the universe had played on me. I wasn't some prodigy with a hidden dragon core or a destined protagonist with a secret lineage. I didn't have a "cheat" item hidden in my soul, a heaven-defying talent, or a wise, god-level mentor hiding in a ring.
Why? Because I wasn't the hero of this story. I was a side character. Worse—I was a side character bound to die as a stepping stone for someone else's growth.
In the original plot of this world—a story I now realized I was living—I was the female protagonist's useless, arrogant, and petty brother. I was the villain she despised, the embarrassment of the Leafs family that the world would eventually forget or celebrate the death of. To make matters worse, this world had a "True Protagonist," a guy with "Main Character Aura" and a massive, growing harem.
And me? I was the one who got cucked. Both my sister and my beautiful fiancee were destined to fall for him—that "Heaven's Son" who had recently beaten me to a bloody pulp.
The memory of the beating flashed in my mind—the feeling of his fist against my jaw, the mocking look in his eyes, and the way the crowd cheered for him. Why had it happened? Because I had thrown a tantrum and cursed him for coveting my fiancee. I know I went too far with my insults, letting my noble pride get the better of me, but in my mind, I was the victim. I was the one losing my family, my future, and my pride.
"Aahh, fuck."
I clutched my head as it began to throb like a heavy, rusted church bell tolling for a funeral. It felt as if thousands of freezing needles were piercing my skull, sucking my blood and marrow, making me want to scream at the top of my lungs until my throat tore.
Eventually, the agonizing pulse faded into a dull ache. I forced myself to let go of the dark, vengeful thoughts and closed my eyes, exhausted by the sheer, crushing weight of my new reality. I didn't fight the heavy sleep that came for me. My consciousness sank deep into the darkness, seeking a temporary refuge from a world where I was already scheduled for a tragic, humiliating ending.