Five years had passed since Rudy's evaluation day. Five long, bitter years.
He could still remember the looks on their faces that day in the temple. The shock. The disappointment. The quiet whispers of pity echoing through the holy hall.
But none of those memories stung quite like the expression on his father's face.
Malik Avara, his father, the man once hailed as a hero of the Flame Kingdom. A powerful Argumenter who'd earned his noble title through strength and valor. For someone like him, having a son born with such a weak class and pitiful mana capacity was… humiliating.
The ride home from the temple had been silent. Unbearably so.
Rudy had sat between his parents in the carriage, clutching his small hands together, wishing someone, anyone, would say something. But no one did. Not a word. Only the steady rhythm of the horn steeds' hooves filled the air.
When they finally reached the mansion, his mother had forced a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
"There's nothing to worry about, Rudy," Rose said, stroking his hair. "The good side to this is that you'll stay here with me forever. You won't have to go to dangerous places like other Manarists."
Her tone was gentle, but her eyes betrayed her. There was a glint of relief like she was glad he wouldn't be risking his life like his father once did.
Rudy had smiled weakly, though inside, it felt like his world was falling apart.
That night, lying on his bed, Rudy stared at the ceiling for hours.
A weak Tamer.
Mana capacity: 100.
The lowest possible tier.
He'd gone from dreaming of being a hero to being labeled the weakest noble heir in the Flame Kingdom.
But then, when the lights dimmed and the world grew quiet, a soft chime echoed in his head again.
[System: Online]
He'd nearly jumped out of bed in excitement.
The system initialization was complete.
A translucent blue screen appeared before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dark:
> Name: Rudy Avara
Class: Tamer
Strength: Max
Agility: Max
Endurance: Max
Mana Capacity: 100
Mana Level: 1
Skills: None
Rudy's eyes widened. "Max…? Wait...MAX?!"
A grin spread across his face. Finally, something made sense. This was it. This was the system Reincia promised me!
He clenched his fists, trembling with excitement. "Max strength, agility, and endurance… doesn't that mean I'm basically a god?"
He jumped out of bed, trying to test it. He punched the air, expecting a shockwave or maybe a crater in the floor.
Instead, he nearly tripped over his bedsheet.
He tried again, push-ups, sit-ups, even jumping as high as he could.
Nothing. His body felt completely normal. His punches carried the force of an ordinary five-year-old. No explosions, no superhuman strength, nothing.
He collapsed on his bed, gasping. "What the hell…?"
The system remained silent, the word Max taunting him with its glowing blue letters.
The years that followed were… dull.
Rudy's mother doted on him endlessly, often treating him more like a delicate ornament than a son. Whenever he tried to train or practice mana control, she would panic.
"Rudy, stop that! You'll hurt yourself!"
"Sweetheart, you don't need to worry about all that nonsense."
"You can live a peaceful life here with us."
A peaceful life, something Rudy had no interest in.
He wanted power. Adventure. He wanted to stand above others, to make them look at him with awe, not pity.
But every time he tried, his mother's watchful eyes dragged him back.
Still, he never gave up. The system was there. It had to mean something.
He spent nights trying to understand it, meditating, observing, even praying, but no new functions appeared. It was like having a treasure chest with no key.
When Rudy turned ten, he finally gathered the courage to speak to his father.
"Father," he said one night after dinner, his voice firm. "I want to go to Flame Academy."
Malik froze mid-sip of his wine. Slowly, he placed the cup down. "Flame Academy?"
"Yes," Rudy said, meeting his father's gaze. "It's where Manarists learn to use mana properly, right? I want to study there."
Rose's spoon clattered against her plate. "No. Absolutely not," she said sharply. "That school is filled with strong students. Mages, Argumenters, you'll get hurt, Rudy."
"I'll be fine," Rudy said quickly. "It's not like I'm going dungeon diving or fighting monsters. It's just… a school."
Malik exhaled, leaning back in his chair. His expression was unreadable. "You're still young, Rudy. And your class… isn't exactly suited for combat."
"I don't care about that," Rudy said. "I just… I want to learn. Please, Father."
The room fell silent.
Finally, Malik said, "If you truly wish to go, then you'll have to prove your determination. Until you're twelve, you'll train under a Manarist I will personally choose."
Rose looked horrified. "Malik, you can't..."
But he raised a hand to stop her. "He wants to go. Let him show us he's serious."
Rudy's eyes lit up. "Really?!"
Malik nodded once. "Train hard, Rudy. At twelve, if I see you're ready, you'll enter Flame Academy."
Now, Rudy stood in his room, no longer a small child, but a young boy on the verge of adolescence. His hair silver hair like his mother had grown longer, and his blue eyes carried a mix of determination and mischief.
He'd waited for this day for what felt like forever.
"The Manarist Father hired arrives tomorrow," he muttered to himself, pacing around his room. "I wonder what kind of person he is… Maybe some muscle-bound warrior with a giant sword? Or a fire mage with flames bursting from his hands?"
He grinned. "He's gotta be cool. Maybe I'll finally start learning some real techniques. I'll train, grow stronger, and then..."
He paused, glancing at the faint blue screen hovering beside him.
The same screen he'd seen every day for the past five years. It never changed.
> Strength: Max
Agility: Max
Endurance: Max
He sighed. "You're still mocking me, huh?"
He clenched his fist. "Fine. Maybe you're waiting for something. But when my training starts… you'll see. I'll make you activate for real."
Rudy walked over to his window, staring out at the sprawling Avara estate. The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky crimson.
He could almost feel it, the beginning of something new. The quiet before the storm.
A slow smile curved his lips.
"Tomorrow… my real journey begins."
"Beautiful ladies, here I come."