The sun had already risen, climbing lazily over the eastern hills and casting golden light across the plains. Birds sang in the distance. Farmers began their morning rituals. The world stirred with life.
But Veigar hadn't moved.
He remained seated on the same old bench, back straight, eyes half-closed, posture relaxed. There was no tension in his muscles. No uncertainty in his expression.
He was calm.
Centered.
Whole.
[Veigar, check your status panel]
He opened one eye and sighed playfully. "Really? I was having a moment."
[Trust me]
"Alright. Open status panel."
A familiar interface shimmered into view.
[ User: Veigar ]
[ Constitution: 8 ]
[ Strength: 8 ]
[ Agility: 8 ]
[ Intelligence: 12 ]
[ Mana: 99 ]
[ Aura: 20 ]
His brow arched. "...Uau. Ok. I definitely didn't expect that," he said, laughing lightly.
[You survived four entire days on the forest and ignited your own path, this is the result]
"All my stats increased, my mana is about to hit 100... and aura?" He leaned forward. "Hold up—"
His eyes widened.
"Waitwaitwait—something's gonna happen when I reach 100 mana, right? I know it. Like some kind of… super saiyan awakening moment?"
He paused.
"Okay, maybe not know. More like… strong suspicion."
[You're half-right. For your mana to reaches 100, a process needs to begin.]
"...You're actually confirming it? That's rare."
[You've earned a few answers.]
He smiled, clearly intrigued. "I'm listening."
[Let's begin with mana.]
[Since your arrival, you've been accumulating mana almost passively because of your innate talent, now you've reached the threshold of 100 and need a core.]
"A core?"
[Yes. A mana core. The first requirement for any mage apprentice is to cultivate enough ambient mana to transform their heart — physically — into a core. Once the core is formed, the mage's ability to channel, store, and manipulate mana becomes exponentially greater]
"So… how do I form this core?"
[Unless someone teaches you, you'll have to discover the method yourself. But given your affinity, it won't be difficult]
He exhaled. "Alright. That's… good to know."
He sat quietly for a second, then tapped the panel.
"And this... aura thing?"
[Careful. That path is not as forgiving]
"Tell me anyway."
[Aura doesn't come from the world. It comes from within. It's the distilled essence of willpower — shaped by experience, pain and resilience. While mana is drawn, aura is forged]
Veigar frowned. "So mana is like… a gift. And aura is a trial."
[Precisely]
"Do I have any natural talent with aura?"
[Not exactly. But your circumstances are far from natural]
"What do you mean?"
[You've died once. Been given a second life. You carry a hunger for meaning, a will to survive — and more importantly, a desire to live. These emotions resonate with aura]
Veigar's voice grew softer. "That's why I wanted to fight in the forest. Even when I didn't need to."
[Yes]
He rubbed his chin.
"If mana is a reflection of life itself… then aura must be a reflection of one's desire to live."
[Now you're beginning to understand.]
He looked toward the distant hills, the sun glinting in his eyes.
"And that's why there are more mages than warriors. It's easier to learn an external system than confront your own pain."
[Exactly. The path of aura is not rare because it's hidden. It's rare because few choose it]
"Interesting."
A beat.
Veigar tilted his head. "Do I get to ask one more thing?"
[Yes. I owe you that]
"…System," he said slowly, "I don't think you're evil. But I do know you try to influence me — both subtly and directly. So tell me something."
[Ask Veigar]
"If I choose to become a warrior instead of the Supreme Mage you called me… would you do anything to stop me?"
The screen blinked.
Then came the response.
[I would never go against you, Veigar. I chose you, remember?]
A pause.
Veigar smiled faintly.
"And what happens if I never become the Supreme Mage?"
[There's no need to worry about this for now, trust me]
"…Thank you."
There was a long silence after that.
But it wasn't empty.
It was peace.
And then—
A loud, metallic clang echoed from down the road.
Veigar stood instinctively, turning toward the source. In the distance, a man was pulling a cart with one arm, the other carrying a large axe slung over his shoulder. His hair was dark with streaks of silver, his frame broad and hardened like a veteran from too many winters.
Beside him walked a girl.
No older than sixteen, lean and focused, with short-cropped hair and a wooden training sword strapped to her back. She wasn't talking — just listening as the man spoke animatedly about something Veigar couldn't hear yet.
The two drew closer.
The man noticed Veigar first. His pace didn't slow, but his gaze sharpened.
"Stranger," he called out, voice gravelled and firm, "you're not from around here."
Veigar raised his hand in a lazy half-wave. "Not even a little bit."
The man stopped just a few feet away.
He studied Veigar for a moment.
"You have the eyes of someone who lost something. Or gained one. Not sure which."
Veigar grinned. "Maybe both."
The man's mouth twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile.
He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, analyzing Veigar.
"…Come with me."
"Just like that?"
"You're walking alone," the man said. "That means you've either survived something, or you're about to die. Either way, you need training."
He turned and began walking.
The girl glanced back at Veigar. Her eyes were clear, unblinking. Curious, but not impressed.
Veigar looked at the system.
[No quests. Just choice]
He took a step forward.
Then another.
And followed.