CHAPTER ~9 TO THE PILLARS OF ERYNTHIA
I opened my eyes.
Stone ceiling. Plain. Cracked in one corner. Not the courtyard.
So… I lived
Pain
From toe to head
Even breathing feel exhausting
I didn't know how much time passed
I think its after noon
Then i remembered
The quest
Did i fail
DING!
Quest completed
Reward Granted:
Strength +1.6
Endurance +0.8
Skill Acquired: Sense (Basic)
Condition:
Extreme Fatigue
Rest is unavoidable
Corner of my lip rise a little
I just closed my eyes.
So I’d crossed the line—and lived.
the pain was still there.
But something else was too.
I thought it was just awareness the kind that comes after pushing your body too far. The way every muscle announced itself, every breath registering as if my body was forcing me to listen.
Then I realized it wasn’t pain I was noticing.
The faint scrape of cloth when I shifted.
The uneven rhythm of my breathing
and how it slowed when I focused.
I lifted my arm an inch.
My body protested immediately,
but I knew exactly how far I could move before it crossed into danger.
I lay still and listened to myself.
Heart rate. Muscle tension. Fatigue settling deep in the bone.
None of it required conscious effort.
I just… knew.
So this is Sense.
Not strength
Not speed.
Just understanding
I took a slow breath and finally let the system surface properly.
The familiar blue interface unfolded in front of me, steady and quiet.
[STATUS]
Strength: 8.2
Endurance: 6.3
Agility: 6.3
Mana: 6.6
Charisma: 3.0
Luck: −12
Skills:
Weapon Handling unlocked
• Sense (Basic)
I stared at the numbers for a long moment.
Strength had crossed a line I hadn’t been able to reach no matter how much I trained before.
Endurance followed—solid, real, earned the hard way.
No sudden spikes.
No unnatural jumps.
Just progress carved into flesh and bone
Whatever happened over those two days…
my body remembered it.
And it wasn’t going back
I glanced at the skill list once more.
Weapon Handling.
I didn’t feel like testing it.
Not now.
My body made that decision for me.
The moment I tried to sit up again
pain flared hard enough to make my vision blur. Every muscle protested in unison, as if reminding me that I’d already taken more than I was allowed
Later I muttered.
I dismissed the screen and let my head sink back into the pillow.
The rest of the day passed fast
Sleep came and went in uneven waves. When I was awake, I didn’t move much
No i Couldn’t move much
Someone brought food at some point. I ate slowly,
No training.
No pushing.
Just recovery.
When the pain dulled enough to think clearly, I spent the time reading instead. Theory books
mana circulation basics, spell structure, academy exam formats. Nothing flashy. Just foundations.
Understanding without strain.
By evening, I felt it.
Mana.
Still weak. Still careful.
But steady.
I didn’t force it.
I sat upright, breathing slow and even, and let it move on its own natural circulation only. The core responded quietly, like it had been waiting for permission.
No spells.
No output.
Just alignment.
For the first time since the quest ended, I didn’t feel like I was fighting my body.
I was listening to it.
And it listened back.
Tomorrow would be the last stretch.
For now
Rest was training too..
I decided to sit up.
That was my first mistake.
My body responded a full second later, as if considering the request, then rejected it outright.
My shoulders lifted briefly before everything below them gave up at the same time.
I tipped forward.
In a dramatic way
Not fast.
Slowly. Painfully. Inevitably.
I reached out to catch myself
But my hand didn't work
My face hit the floor.
Ding.
Second kiss.
“Fuck.”
I stayed there, unflattering position,breathing hard and reconsidering every life choice that had led me here.
So this was recovery.
When I finally managed to get myself back onto the bed using a sequence of movements that would have impressed absolutely no one
I lay there staring at the ceiling, waiting for my dignity to return.
It didn’t.
Food arrived sometime later.
A bowl. A spoon.
I picked up the spoon.
It shook.
Not violently. Just enough to make a soft, mocking clink against the bowl.
I stared at it.
“…Really?”
The spoon offered no apology and continued trembling.
I tightened my grip. The shaking got worse. Loosened it again, and the tremor eased.
So apparently even my hands were tired of being ordered around.
I tried lifting the spoon toward my mouth.
Halfway there, my wrist dipped. The soup sloshed dangerously close to the edge. I froze, holding the pose, muscles burning
not from pain, but from the sheer audacity of attempting to eat.
This was humiliating.
I lowered the spoon, recalibrated, and tried again. Slower. Smaller. Like I was disarming a trap instead of feeding myself.
Success.
By the time I finished eating, my arm felt like I’d completed another training session, and the soup had cooled to a temperature best described as "humiliation"
I leaned back, staring at my hand as it continued to shake faintly.
Strength had increased.
Endurance too.
Coordination, however, was apparently on vacation.
I lay back down carefully.
Rest, then.
Because if I tried to stand again today, I was pretty sure the floor would win
again
But
While eating, he realizes two things
•Exactly when his grip will fail
•How changing posture reduces tremors
The rest of the day passed without incident.
No training.
No reckless thoughts.
Just sleep, food, and silence.
By nightfall, the pain had dulled into something manageable
not gone, but no longer overwhelming. My body felt fragile, yet aligned, like something reforged and left to cool.
When I slept this time, it was deep
Morning came quietly.
I opened my eyes to soft light filtering through the curtains, my body is heavy but stable.
Everything still hurt but nothing screamed. That alone told me enough.
I sat up slowly.
No collapse.
No dramatic betrayal from my muscles.
Still stiff. Still weak.
But functional.
Thats Good enough.
Today is the accadamy entrance exam the day were original noval begin
Where my freedom and death hide
Erynthia Academy
I went to bathroom
Hot water ran over my shoulders, steam filling the room as I stood still beneath it.
The ache in my muscles lingered, deep and stubborn, but it no longer felt threatening. Just a reminder.
Today was the day.
The day my future split into two paths freedom… or death.
I shut off the water and dressed in silence.
When I stepped out
I froze.
Mother was standing near the window.
Lady Seraphina Casper.
Her crimson hair was tied neatly behind her, posture straight as ever, as if she’d been waiting there long before I noticed her.
She didn’t turn when I entered.
“You’re going,” she said.
Not a question.
“Yes.”
A pause.
"The academy is not merciful, she continued. Talent invites attention. Weakness invites exploitation."
I said nothing.
Her gaze shifted briefly just enough to acknowledge me.
"You have chosen a path where no one will protect you."
I know
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"If you die there she said calmly, this house will not intervene."
The words landed heavily.
Not cruel.
Not angry.
Just fact
I don’t expect it to I replied.
She turned fully toward me.
Her eyes lingered not on my face but on my hands.
Bandages still faintly visible beneath the sleeves.
Something unreadable passed through her expression.
Then it vanished.
"Then go," Seraphina said. "And prove that this decision was worth the cost.”
She turned away.
The conversation was over.
I bowed my head slightly not in respect, but acknowledgment and turned toward the door.
My steps echoed softly through the corridor as I left the room behind.
The manor felt different today
Not hostile.
Not welcoming either.
Just… distant.
As if it had already decided I no longer belonged.
A carriage waited outside.
The door opened before I reached it.
The butler was already inside.
He sat upright, hands folded over his cane, gaze fixed forward. As always, his presence filled the space without demanding attention.
“You are late,” he said calmly.
“Am I?” I replied, easing myself into the seat opposite him.
By three minutes,” he answered. “Within acceptable margins.”
So are you also coming
The butler’s expression didn’t change. The carriage began to move.
“I am accompanying you to the academy gates,” he said. “No further.”
“Not inside?”
“No.” A brief pause. “From there, you walk alone.”
That figured.
The carriage slowed long before it reached the gates.
I felt it first.
The air changed denser, like the world itself was paying attention. My chest tightened slightly, not from fear, but from pressure.
Mana. Not active, not hostile, just present. Thick enough that even someone like me couldn’t ignore it.
Erynthia Academy rose from the stone plateau ahead.
It wasn’t a single building, but a whole complex.
Towers rose behind layered walls, some close, some distant,
their tops disappearing into the morning haze. Stone bridges stretched between buildings
The academy rose from white stone and blue crystal
reinforced with black pillars and touched with worn gold It felt old. But Powerful.
The carriage came to a stop.
The butler opened the door and stepped aside.
From here he said you walk
I stepped down onto the stone.
The gates loomed ahead black metal traced with faint blue lines
Ahead, examinees were already gathering—nobles in fine coats, commoners in worn clothes, all standing on the same ground for once.
No titles here. No protection.
Just whoever survived what came next.
I took a breath.
My body still ached. My hands still trembled faintly.
But I knew exactly how far I could push.
Exactly where the line was.
Erynthia Academy stood before me.
And this time
I walked toward it on my own.
