“Fireball!” Jackson yelled out loud, more for himself than for anything, really.

  A ball of condensed mana left his palm, looking nothing like the flaming orb of a fireball, before traversing the short distance separating Jackson from his target, the training dummy, and landing in a very disappointing puff of mana.

  Author note: this webnovel is freely available on Royal Road. Please support the author by reading only on that site.

  “God damn it!” Jackson yelled, drawing some curious gazes his way. “What am I doing wrong?” he asked himself while looking at the unblemished dummy, frustration slowly getting the better of him.

  He was in one of the training halls assigned to people from Earth. One of the public ones, not the special private ones designated for VIPs and ‘geniuses’. Jackson didn’t care about titles. He never viewed himself as a genius, nor as deserving of special treatment. Being denied resources did hurt, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t accomplish on his own. It would just take more time, a precious commodity these days.

  It had been two weeks since the start of the tutorial, and while most people had already managed to find their footing and got to progressing on their paths, he was stuck exactly where he had been since the second day. At level 4.

  It was by choice, as no one was forcing him to do it. In fact, the instructors had almost begged him numerous times to stop what he was doing, get to 5, and pick a class, but his answer was always the same: not yet.

  The problem was the system and its arbitrary rules regarding class selection. His Vitality, Strength, and Stamina were high. Incredibly so. And due to that, any class he would get offered at level 5 would most definitely be a physical type, which was something he very much wanted to avoid. This left him with only one option to avoid that outcome: try to learn one or two skills from the archetype he wanted, in his case mage, that way the system was guaranteed to offer it as one of the options.

  While not having access to trainers and the empire’s resources did contribute to his lack of progress somewhat, it wasn’t the main hurdle. The system was. Or more specifically, how stats worked.

  Stats in the system held great significance, especially early on. Every human baby in the multiverse started with 0 or 1 in each stat, typically reaching 3 to 5 in their teen years, which was the point where most picked their classes. Getting more than 5 in a stat, while possible, was extremely difficult. The ambient mana tended to do most of the heavy lifting, forcing the body and soul to grow reliant on it, stopping them from being pushed to their absolute limit, which was a necessity in order to organically gain stats.

  The unintegrated didn’t really have that problem since their planets had been devoid of mana, meaning their bodies and souls never stopped growing. Not only did they have more stats, but they were also better vessels for said stats, with each point providing better value than what it otherwise should be able to.

  It wasn’t a permanent advantage. Normally, getting to Tier 7, where one fused their core with their soul, saw the difference shrink considerably, with Tier 6, where body and soul became one, equalizing the playing field once more.

  That ‘advantage’, however, is where all his problems lay.

  The human body could only do so much to grow when mana wasn’t involved. So, reaching 9 or 10 points in a stat meant that another one had to suffer for it. Not by being weaker or providing less value, but by having less potential. You simply couldn’t have it all. Your body wouldn’t allow it.

  And this is where all his problems stemmed. Due to his high physical stats, his mental ones had to suffer for it. Not by him being dumber or anything, but by having less aptitude for anything reliant on said stats. And to make matters worse, stats worked off of each other in a very intuitive way.

  Agility and Strength both complemented and boosted the effectiveness of the other. Same with Intelligence and Wisdom, Vitality and Endurance, and Spirit and Willpower.

  So, having more points in Agility meant that any point you added to Strength would automatically give you more bang for your buck due to your aligning more with that path.

  Then you have the interaction of Strength and Agility, with Endurance and Vitality, or what’s referred to as ‘Body Stats’. Adding a point to Vitality if you had high Strength, would give you more health than someone with high Intelligence for example. It was just the body’s way of prioritizing how to develop and evolve.

  So while someone from the system with average stats could easily learn both magic and physical skills, he, with his 10 points in Vitality, 9 in Endurance, and 9 in Strength, couldn’t. He was too lopsided. His aptitude for magic and mana was low, and adding points to Intelligence would almost certainly be a waste. Which was why the trainers were adamant on him picking a tank class, or at least a heavy armor one that utilized his stats. His 4 points in both Intelligence and Wisdom, and 3 in Spirit and Willpower, meant it was close to impossible. He could swing a greatsword as if it were a toothpick, but wielding magic of any kind was daunting. As if his own body and soul were working against him.

  He understood why it worked that way, but that didn’t make it feel any less unfair.

  The system wanted people to ‘pursue their own paths’, but if that path was detrimental, it would push you away from it until you’d proven that it wasn’t.

  So in essence, he was supposed to prove that a path would work for him before even getting on said path. A good old Catch-22 situation, Jackson thought to himself, frustrated at his inability to make it work.

  “Guess even the almighty system has its limitations,” he voiced his thoughts out loud, as he considered his next approach

  “I agree that it may be limiting, but at heart it follows its own logic. You don’t expect a muscled brute to be into weaving the same way you don’t expect a fragile, thin old man to be a blacksmith, don’t you agree?”

  Jackson turned his head towards the voice, a little surprised that someone had approached him. Most considered him a persona non grata, with the instructors warning against helping him in any way, so someone approaching him was an oddity.

  As his head turned, his eyes fell on the person in question. A middle-aged man in grey and white robes with strokes of golden yellow stood next to him. He had long, smooth black hair that reached to his shoulder, and a short trimmed beard. His face shone with serenity and contentment, with a stance that exuded confidence.

  He stood with his hands behind his back, clutching an ivory white staff with a blue diamond-shaped crystal at the head, seemingly floating in place.

  Needless to say, he looked very dignified. Like what Jackson would expect a noble to look like, which was his conclusion. He didn’t know who the man was, but it was clear that he was of high standing, which would also explain why he wouldn’t care about the instructors’ warnings.

  “While it may make sense at first glance, there are always exceptions,” Jackson answered the unknown man. “On Earth, the person many consider as the best composer to ever live, was deaf, which some would argue is a crucial sense to have when composing music, and yet that never stopped him from creating masterpiece after masterpiece like he was the living embodiment of the music itself,” he explained, his voice filled with appreciation and respect at the genius of Beethoven.

  “While that may be true, I’m sure his approach had been different from that of someone who relied on their hearing,” the unknown man replied. “A limitation is merely a shackle holding you in place. Sometimes, you need a different approach in order to break free. I’m sure the composer hadn’t merely tried to hear harder, but had done something different to keep his dream alive,” the man finished, a tone of longing and respect in his voice, which Jackson hadn’t expected.

  He mulled over the man’s words for a bit. It was obvious he had been struggling, but he had also continued with the same approach since the first day, thinking he just had to try harder, but was that the wrong way to go about it? He was approaching magic like any other mage would, which wasn’t right since he lacked what other mages didn’t.

  Ideas and questions started racing through his mind, completely forgetting the man’s existence, at least until he was reminded of it.

  “Ahh, it seems like a spark of insight has been lit. I’ll leave you to it then,” the unknown man nodded at Jackson before turning around and heading towards the magically reinforced doors of the training hall.

  “Wait!” Jackson yelled, prompting the man to stop and turn his head around. “I didn’t get your name. I’m Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, hoping to catch the man’s name.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Yes, I’m very well aware of who you are, Jackson. Some of my subordinates have been very vocal in their complaints regarding you,” the unknown man chuckled slightly, making Jackson wince.

  He seemed to notice Jackson’s reaction as he waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t let it bother you. You simply wanted something, and you’re working hard for it. From where I stand, they are the ones being unreasonable, trying to force on you a path that is not yours,” he finished, a calming smile on his face.

  “As for who I am,” the man continued, pausing for a moment. “Just an old wanderer. And besides, it makes for a much better story, doesn’t it?” he answered, a smile never leaving his face, before turning around and continuing towards the door.

  “Thank you!” Jackson shouted his gratitude.

  “Think nothing of it, young Jackson. Those were simply the ramblings of an old man. What you make of them is all you,” he waved Jackson off as he walked through the large double doors.

  “What did you think of the boy?”

  “I think we might have an interesting one on our hands,” Moaaz Al-Haan answered his loyal advisor Ardenen as they walked through the streets of his capital city.

  “Then shouldn’t we try to recruit him? Letting another faction get to him first when we could’ve had him under our own banner would be unfortunate,” Ardenen asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Moaaz Al-Haan waved off his advisor’s concerns. “What I saw was a man with a goal and purpose. He wouldn’t let anything deviate him from it, at least not until some progress was made,” he added, dispelling Ardenen’s concerns.

  “Jackson the rejuvenating mage has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Moaaz Al-Haan asked, a smile ever present on his face. “Let us hope the solution he comes up with is as unique and interesting as mine,” he added, reminiscing on his own path.

  “I think it will take many lifetimes before someone comes up with a solution as preposterous as your own,” Ardenen snorted.

  Moaaz Al-Haan chuckled at Ardenen’s words. “That’s because talent alone isn’t enough. Insatiable hunger and drive are what they need, and from what I’ve seen, he’s never been hungrier or more driven.”

  “I’m not questioning his hunger, just if it’s enough to overcome the stat hurdle,” Ardenen replied, still not entirely convinced.

  “A wager then? Our usual?” Moaaz Al-Haan offered, extending a hand, having no doubt that Ardenen would accept.

  “You seem certain about this one,” Ardenen commented, shaking the extended hand.

  “I just enjoy a good story, and a story like his would be one for the books,” he answered, excitement oozing from his voice as they walked, unnoticed, through the crowded streets of Helendar.

  Matt stared with incomprehension at the screaming cat. He didn’t know what had happened, but [Mend] was already dealing with most of the damage.

  “What’s going on?” Matt asked Kara, who was looking at her sister, pity filling her eyes, his voice coming out raspy and tired.

  “She abused her powers, and is now being punished for it,” Kara simply answered, her eyes not leaving her sister, who was now convulsing on the tiled floor.

  “Punished? By who? The system? And what the hell just happened to me?” Matt asked, both anger and confusion entering his voice. While [Mend] had helped, there was still this lingering pressure on his soul that had remained, seemingly refusing to leave.

  Kara turned her head towards him, looking at him with complete indifference, a stark contrast from the smiling warm Kara he’d gotten used to over the last couple of hours.

  The silence held for a few breaths before she finally broke it with an audible sigh and a question. “You have ridiculously high Willpower and Spirit, don’t you?”

  Kara’s response caught Matt off guard, who wasn’t expecting a question, let alone one about his stats.

  He frowned slightly, taking a good look at the cat. She seemed to be on her guard, which meant something was definitely up. The entire situation filled him with unease, and volunteering information before knowing what the hell had happened did not sound like a smart move, especially with how tense the atmosphere had become in the last few minutes.

  With that in mind, he tried to be as ambiguous as possible with his answer. “As was said before, I don’t know anything about the system, so even if they were ‘ridiculously high’ I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

  Kara seemed to assess him for a long moment before smiling, evidently catching on to what Matt was doing. “Then why don’t you tell me how much Spirit and Willpower you have? I’ll be more than happy to tell you how high, or not, those numbers are.”

  “Shouldn’t you take me to dinner first before asking me to fuck myself?” Matt smiled back, not in the mood to act dumb or play games.

  Kara turned her head back to her sister, who was still convulsing on the floor, blood pouring from her eyes and ears. The screaming had stopped, but the punishment clearly hadn’t. Whether it was due to her getting used to the pain, or simply passing out, Matt didn’t know.

  “You’re cautious. That’s good. One can never be too careful in the system, but that tongue of yours will be your end if you don’t rein it in,” she warned, apparently not in a joking mood either.

  “I’m sorry, are the cats who were using me for their own amusement while manipulating me as some form of fucked up test, not even to mention whatever crap Lara tried to pull, displeased with how I reacted to their bullying? Because you know, I can always hand you a complaint form to fill out before shoving it up–”

  “Enough!” Tara yelled with a thunderous voice, unbefitting her small size, that shook the temple, before walking threateningly towards Matt.

  “Listen, human. If you are unhappy with our antics, SULK, but throwing around threats and vulgar language because your feelings got hurt is not doing you any favors.”

  “You are the one–” Matt tried to interject.

  “I don’t care,” Tara interrupted with finality. “You need to get something through your stubborn, thick skull,” she asserted, taking slow, deliberate steps towards him with every statement. “We are not your friends. No one you meet in the system is your friend. They will all have their own plans and agendas. If it happens to align with yours for any god forsaken reason, it doesn’t mean you are on their wedding guest list, nor are you invited to their birthday celebrations, nor meeting their families, it just means you aren’t enemies… yet.”

  He felt her words through his bones, holding his thoughts as he waited for her to finish.

  “Now, as guardians, we can’t steer things in a certain way, even if we have our own agendas. Instead, we take interest in trial takers, and luckily for you, you were interesting enough, for a human.”

  “Glad my struggles were entertaining enough for you,” Matt mocked with a scoff, still not over the entire situation.

  “I wasn’t finished,” Tara warned, narrowing her eyes, as she stood right in front of him. “Unluckily for you, you are pushing whatever goodwill you managed to garner from us. Did you think we were forced to answer your questions? Or that the detailed answers you were given were out of some form of obligation? Because if that’s what you thought, then you are not as smart as you think you are, nor as we gave you credit for. Nothing in the system comes for free, even information, and the sooner you accept that, and learn to live with it, the better everyone’s lives would be, especially yours,” she scolded.

  As Matt stood there, mouth agape, realization smacked him across the face.

  It was true that he had taken their goodwill for granted, like they had owed him anything. Having his questions answered had felt natural. It was what he would’ve done, but the cats weren’t obligated to. Even their gifts didn’t need to be useful. An item could hold value on its own, but not to him, making it worthless, even if, in essence, it wasn’t.

  He closed his eyes as he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to rein in his anger and emotions. Lara had been rude and disrespectful ever since his appearance in the temple, but his response to her, and to all of this, was that of a brat.

  Four long years, and it’s still a sore subject. Guess I still have ways to go, Matt thought with slight disappointment.

  He wasn’t in the wrong, god no. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t wrong. The attempted manipulation had triggered instant alarm bells and a fight-or-flight response, thanks to spending a lifetime being manipulated by everyone he had ever been close to, all of which had resulted in him only making a bad situation worse.

  What they had done was wrong, he had no doubt about it, but he still should’ve handled it better, at least for his own sake. He should’ve had better control over his emotions, leveraging the situation instead of aggravating it.

  The cats having their own agenda didn’t make them Matt’s enemies, and he couldn’t afford to burn every bridge he came across. He also needed to keep that sense of entitlement in check. Life wasn’t fair, and no one deserved what they hadn’t earned, and so far, he hadn’t earned anything.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an audible sigh. “I was wrong,” he finally said. “What you and Lara did wasn’t right, and is undeserving of an apology, but I was prideful, egotistical, and entitled in how I reacted, and for that, you have my apologies,” he finished with a firm nod towards the cats.

  Tara looked him in the eyes for a few seconds. Whether she was assessing the sincerity behind his words, or simply waiting for something, he didn’t know, so he simply looked right back at her, his resolve unshaken.

  After a few tense seconds, she finally shifted her gaze before breaking the silence that had descended on the temple. “Well, Lara’s harsh punishment will put her in a sour mood for a while. An apology from her will be out of the question. As for me, in a show of reconciliation, the guardians will offer a better gift than what was allowed,” she stated.

  Matt simply nodded at the cat.

  He couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t apologized either, nor admitted any wrongdoing. Lara was punished for attacking him, so, to the cats, they hadn’t done anything wrong up to that point.

  He wouldn’t say he was happy with the outcome, but to him, an upgrade on his rewards was better than a few empty words, so he just left it at that.

  The tension in the air was still palpable, one that neither a joke nor the sound of his voice could alleviate.

  Lara’s punishment had ended, yet everyone was still on edge, so he decided to let everyone have some peace and quiet, to digest everything that had happened.

  A new notification had popped up in his vision after the whole Lara debacle, and now was as good a time as any to check it out.

  With a thought, he opened the notification, and the prompt that appeared was the most surprising of the day by far.