A gray hush blanketed Brightwood Orchard at dawn, as though the sun hesitated to spill its rays upon the dew-laden fields. Over the past weeks, life among the orchard rows had settled into a precarious calm—one that made Kael increasingly wary. While no overt beasts had attacked, there were unsettling signs: trampled patches near the southern fence, eerie tracks along the riverbank, and a lingering stench of something foul that turned up whenever the wind blew from the east. Rowan, the orchard's longtime hand, commented that nature itself seemed on edge.
Kael, only three years old yet filled with the determination of a reincarnated magus, woke early to sense these subtle changes. He clambered out of his small bed in the cottage and tiptoed through the dim corridor, passing his slumbering parents' room. His father, Joren, had worked late repairing metal brackets for half-broken fences, and his mother, Meria, had stayed up assisting him. Exhausted by the orchard's worries, both slept heavily. Kael seized the moment to slip outside unnoticed.
Morning's First Light
The sun's first rays crept across rows of apple trees. Kael inhaled the orchard air, a strange blend of sweet fruit, damp earth, and an underlying tension. At his young age—and with his synergy training hidden from outsiders—he had taken upon himself the orchard's silent protector role. If something new lurked at the boundaries, he aimed to be the first to discover it.
He padded barefoot across the grass, scanning for any sign of footprints or unnatural mana flows. He had gleaned from the occasional orchard skirmishes that each corrupted beast left behind a faint aura—twisted, sour, and vile. Today, the orchard felt calm, but not entirely at peace.
[Notification: Mana Sense (Novice, Lv.3) attempts environmental scan… no anomalies detected within 30 meters.]
Kael exhaled. At least for now, nothing is prowling near the barn. The system's quiet pop-up affirmed that, although his Mana Sense skill remained stuck at Novice 3, it still proved useful for short-range vigilance.
Discreet Training Among the Trees
Convinced there was no immediate threat, Kael ventured deeper into the orchard. Past the main rows, a cluster of older apple trees formed a secluded clearing—his preferred spot for hidden practice. Twigs and fallen leaves crunched underfoot as he arrived, dawn's glow illuminating a small circle of grass.
He set his feet apart, slowly entering the basic stance he'd developed from hazy recollections of a past life. Breath in, ground your posture, align synergy with your core. Over the last few months, he had meticulously refined this routine, combining physical exercise with elemental channeling.
Kael began with push-ups and squats—far more controlled than any typical toddler's play. With each motion, he layered synergy flow: Earth synergy to enhance stability, Air synergy to lighten the pressure on his arms, Fire synergy to maintain warmth in the brisk morning air. This tri-element weaving had become second nature to him, though it was still "Basic Channeling," locked at Level 9.
Midway through the set, a familiar subtle warmth coursed through his muscles:
[Notification: Long-term physical discipline recognized! Strength +1, Constitution +1]
Kael smiled at the faint text shimmering in his peripheral vision. He'd grown accustomed to these quiet confirmations that his body was inching toward superhuman prowess. Years of hidden training had already placed him well beyond a normal three-year-old's capacity.
But—he reminded himself—all five core channelings remain stuck at Basic 9. No matter how many attribute increases or small breakthroughs he earned, that looming barrier of the unawakened core blocked further synergy evolution.
On the Verge of a Skill Breakthrough
Once his body warmed up, Kael switched to synergy forging. He had brought along a small pouch of metal scraps "borrowed" from Father's forging leftovers—shards of iron, bits of bronze. With slow, deliberate movements, Kael shaped Earth synergy around a flat metal piece, then coaxed Fire synergy to heat it.
He concentrated, forging runic symbols along the surface, aiming to fuse a minor Wind Ward function. By swirling Air synergy across etched lines, he tried to create a plate that would generate a gentle breeze upon sensing hostile mana signatures. Kael's heart pounded with hope—maybe he could finalize a new sub-skill from these experiments.
As sparks danced at his fingertips, the synergy lines glowed faintly. For a moment, the runic plate pulsed with promise.
[Notification: Attempting to unlock new runic skill: Windflare Ward…]
Kael held his breath. If the synergy took shape successfully, he'd gain a small skill that might help repel lesser beasts or at least alert orchard hands when something approached.
Then the lines fizzled. The metal cooled abruptly, synergy evaporating. Kael let out a small sigh of frustration.
[Notification: Insufficient synergy resonance. Core unawakened—integration halted.]
His shoulders sagged. Again, the same lock, he thought. For months, Kael had endured this moment: on the brink of forging something extraordinary, only for the system to remind him that without an awakened core, advanced or refined skills simply wouldn't finalize.
He set the half-etched plate aside, refusing to let discouragement take root. One day, after I awaken… all these tests will flourish.
A Surprise Encounter
As he stood, wiping soot from his hands, Kael froze. Footsteps crunched on nearby leaves. Heart pounding, he prepared to hide—only to see Rowan's tall, lanky form push through the trees, a small rake in hand.
"Kael?" Rowan's face, etched with lines of worry, softened upon spotting the child. "What are you doing out here alone?"
Kael quickly tucked the metal scrap behind his back, offering his most innocent expression. "Just… exploring," he said softly. "Wanted to see the orchard at sunrise."
Rowan frowned slightly, gazing at Kael's dusty hands and the slight flush in his cheeks. "Your father might fret if he knew you were running about at dawn." Yet there was no reprimand, only mild concern. Rowan knelt, placing a rough hand on Kael's shoulder. "Stay close to the main orchard, all right? We're not sure what's lurking out there."
Kael nodded, grateful Rowan hadn't pressed further. "I will."
And with that, Rowan rose and trudged off to gather fallen twigs for kindling. Kael let out a quiet breath, waiting until the orchard hand disappeared behind a row of trees before retrieving the metal scrap from behind his back. That was close. He slipped the piece into his small satchel, deciding to refine it in some safer moment.
Subtle Reassurance from Mother
When Kael returned to the cottage, Meria had just set out a modest breakfast: porridge, bread, and a pitcher of goat's milk. She glanced up, relief flickering in her gaze. "I wondered where you'd gone, child. Come, eat."
He climbed onto a wooden stool. Joren was seated at the table, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Despite the orchard's underlying tensions, the family's morning ritual stayed warm—Mother bustling with mild fuss, Father quietly sipping a cup of herbal tea. Kael toyed with his spoon, half-lost in thoughts of synergy forging.
Meria noticed. She gave Kael a gentle pat on the back. "Is something troubling you? You seem… pensive."
Kael shook his head, summoning a small smile. "I'm fine, Mother. I just woke early." He dared not mention the runic attempts or near-skill breakthroughs. She already knew he could do "small wonders" but had no idea how extensively he strove to craft new wards.
Joren eyed Kael with that fatherly hint of curiosity. "Well, after breakfast, I might need help in the barn, if you don't mind. We have some old fence nails to sort."
Kael nodded eagerly. "Yes, Father."
A normal chore, yet one that offered Kael a chance to discreetly check the orchard's supply of metal scraps. Perhaps he could salvage some better pieces for his next forging attempt.
Sorting Scraps and a Flicker of Strength
In the barn, Kael rummaged through a large wooden crate brimming with nails, bolts, and bent iron scraps. Father hammered away at a wagon axle nearby, pausing occasionally to watch Kael. The child methodically lined up pieces by size, discarding rusted ones, and piling those suitable for reuse.
At one point, Joren placed a heavy sack of miscellaneous hardware on the floor—likely over 20 pounds. He turned away to fetch another tool. Kael, seeing the bag's precarious position, lifted it, intending to move it near the sorting crate. He forgot to feign struggle.
Joren spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of Kael hefting the weight with ease. A moment of surprise crossed his face, followed by a quiet acceptance. "You're stronger than you look, son," he murmured.
Kael blushed, hastily setting the sack down, recalling that he was supposed to conceal his remarkable strength. "I… I just wanted to help," he stammered.
Joren nodded, concern tempered by pride. "I know. Just—be careful not to strain yourself." Then he resumed hammering.
Kael suppressed a nervous swallow. Father suspects more every day. But Joren said nothing further. A wave of gratitude coursed through Kael—he was lucky his father trusted him, even if questions lingered.
Seizing a Private Moment
By mid-morning, orchard hands trod about the fields, attending routine tasks. The hum of normalcy belied the orchard's guarded undercurrent. Kael slipped away again, this time to the barn's far corner, where old crates stacked in dusty piles offered cover.
He fished out the half-etched metal scrap from his satchel. Placing it on a makeshift workbench—a sturdy wooden plank on two barrels—he summoned Basic Air synergy. The swirling currents formed faint lines that glowed along the runic etchings, but once more threatened to fade due to the unawakened core limit.
This time, Kael told himself, I'll only aim for partial functionality—like an alarm rather than a full ward. If he minimized the synergy requirement, the system might allow at least a partial skill form.
Carefully, he inscribed simpler runes—three arcs for detecting abrupt changes in local mana, plus a small funnel that would push out a burst of air upon activation. His heart raced.
[Notification: Attempting partial skill formation: Windflare Alarm…]
He funneled every scrap of concentration into the runic lines, ignoring sweat beading at his temples. The metal glowed softly. A fleeting pulse, then a faint hum as synergy stabilized.
[Notification: Congratulations! You have unlocked a Minor Utility Skill: Windflare Alarm (Basic, Lv.1)!][Notification: +2 Intelligence from successful skill forging!]
Kael's eyes widened. His breath caught in excitement. It wasn't a full ward or a combat skill, but the system recognized it as a new skill. Finally, a small breakthrough that the unawakened core didn't block… because it's basically just a utility alarm?
He nearly laughed with relief, stifling it to avoid drawing attention. The synergy lines on the scrap glowed for a moment, then settled into a barely visible sheen. So long as it remained stable, if a corrupted mana presence entered within a few meters, the plate would emit a brief gust of wind—enough to alert anyone near it.
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Kael's chest swelled with accomplishment. While minor, this success proved he could craft partial-runic items that didn't require advanced synergy ranks. He carefully stowed the newly-formed Windflare Alarm in his satchel, heart thrumming with possibility.
A Subtle Disturbance
Shortly after noon, an unexpected clamor arose near the orchard's southern edge. Kael, helping Meria with sorting fresh-picked apples, heard raised voices. Rowan's shout carried across the yard: "Check the fences—something's torn the lower boards!"
He promptly set down his apple basket and hurried after Mother, who also rushed to see what happened. By the time they arrived, Father and a few orchard hands stood around a gaping hole in the fence planks, clearly pried loose from the outside.
Splintered wood, claw marks in the soil. A foul odor lingered. Kael recognized it as the same corruption stench from previous monstrous intrusions.
Rowan swore under his breath. "No sign of the beast that did this, but it's big. Possibly bigger than the wolf-boar from months ago."
Fear flickered in Father's eyes. He and Meria exchanged anxious glances. Kael's stomach twisted. Are we about to face another wave of attacks?
The orchard hands quickly hammered spare boards to cover the gap, layering additional bracers. Father turned, scanning the tree line. "Everyone, be on alert. We can't let this escalate."
An Ominous Twilight
That evening, the orchard folk gathered in the courtyard. Determined not to repeat old mistakes, they organized rotating patrols. Rowan insisted on double coverage through the night—two watchers posted along each side. Lamps and torches ringed the orchard, though their glow scarcely soothed the workers' nerves.
Kael, mind churning, realized he had a new tool: the Windflare Alarm plate he'd crafted. Perhaps placing it near the fence could provide a hidden early warning. But Father, wary of letting Kael roam after dark, insisted Kael remain in the cottage. "You're still a child," Joren said, voice tight with concern. "We can't risk you out there."
Kael nodded obediently, though frustration simmered beneath. He would bide his time, then slip away if needed. The orchard watchers meant well, but he alone had synergy potent enough to repel or at least distract a mid-level beast if it broke through.
Late-Night Maneuvers
Midnight came, the orchard silent except for the rustle of wind in the leaves. Torches flickered at intervals along the fence line, watchers pacing with spears and pitchforks. Inside the cottage, Kael pretended to sleep in his small bed. He waited, hearing Father's footsteps outside, ensuring all was quiet.
When the hush deepened, Kael climbed out of bed, creeping to the door. He eased it open, each hinge squeak setting his heart hammering. With the orchard watchers presumably posted at the far perimeter, he slunk across the yard, hugging shadows until he reached the barn.
In the barn's darkness, he rummaged through his satchel for the newly made Windflare Alarm plate. A faint swirl of synergy glowed from its runic lines, proof it was still functional. Carefully, Kael snuck toward the orchard's southern boundary—where midday damage had revealed that something large had tested the fence.
Placing the Windflare Alarm
He found a spot where the new planks joined older ones. The faint stench of corruption lingered. Likely this was where a creature had forced entry. Kael crouched, pressing the plate against a sturdy beam at ground level. With minimal synergy, he willed it to latch onto the wood.
Immediately, a soft hum indicated it was active—ready to flare wind if a corrupted presence drew near. Kael prayed silently that it might protect the orchard or at least alert watchers in time.
Then, a soft step behind him. Kael whirled, synergy crackling at his fingertips. Father stood there, holding a dim lantern, eyes wide. "Kael?"
Kael's breath caught. He'd been caught in the act of placing a runic device on the fence. Father let out a slow exhale, gazing at the small metal plate. "What… is that?"
Father's Concern and Partial Truth
Kael swallowed hard, flicking his gaze from the plate to Joren's face. Should I lie? Feign ignorance? But Father's expression held no anger, only shock and worry.
"I…" Kael murmured. "It's a small alarm. I made it to warn us if something tries to break through."
Joren stepped closer, lantern light revealing the etched runes. "You… forged this?"
"Yes, from leftover scraps." Kael's hands trembled. "I didn't want the orchard unprotected. I can't fully explain how, but I… I learned some small magic."
He expected scolding, perhaps fear. Instead, Father gently placed a hand on Kael's shoulder. "Son, I suspected you had some advanced gifts. But to craft a device like this… at three years old… it's beyond my understanding."
Tears pricked Kael's eyes. "I'm sorry if this troubles you. I just—want us safe. I can't watch you or Mother suffer if a monster attacks again."
Joren's expression softened, paternal love shining through. "I'd never fault you for trying to protect us. But be careful. If word spreads of your abilities, we'll face more than just beasts."
Kael nodded, relief and gratitude tangling in his chest. "I understand."
They stood there a moment, father and son under the moonlit fence, the hush of orchard watchers patrolling in the distance. Then Joren squeezed Kael's shoulder. "We'll keep this between us. Come, we'd best get back before Rowan wonders why I left my post."
A Night of Whispers
They returned to the cottage, where Mother lay dozing. Joren guided Kael inside, quietly settling him into bed. Before leaving, Father leaned down, voice low. "Your alarm… will it really work?"
Kael managed a small smile. "It should. If the beast returns, we'll know."
A pensive look flickered in Joren's eyes. "All right, son. Get some rest." He dimmed the lantern and left.
Kael lay there, heart pounding. On the one hand, he'd broken the orchard's illusions that he was just a normal toddler. But on the other, Father's calm acceptance felt like a small victory. He drifted to uneasy sleep, listening for any sign of trouble from the orchard fence.
Dawn and the Aftermath
Morning arrived with no alarm triggered—no monstrous invasion. Orchard workers found no new damage, though the southern fence still bore the previous day's scars. Father passed by that section discreetly, noticing the faint glow of Kael's Windflare Alarm plate. He said nothing about it to anyone else, letting the orchard staff assume the newly replaced boards and double watch had deterred further attacks.
Over a simple breakfast, Meria asked if Kael slept well. He nodded, mind drifting to the events of the night. Father offered him a subtle nod of reassurance. Even that small gesture told Kael we share this secret now.
The Will to Grow Stronger
After breakfast, Kael returned to his stealthy training. He practiced synergy flows behind the barn, combining Earth and Air to shape lumps of clay. Then he baked them with Fire synergy to create small discs. Each attempt, though carefully executed, ran into the same system prompt whenever he tried refining them into advanced wards or spells.
[Notification: Skill progression stalled. Core unawakened—further rank-up locked.]
Still, he refused to let it dampen his resolve. Each step made him more comfortable with the synergy. When the day came for him to ignite his mana core, he intended to rocket forward in mastery.
Amid his clay forging, a system message blinked:
[Notification: Cumulative synergy forging raised Intelligence +1, Spirit +1!]
Kael grinned. Even if bigger leaps were blocked, these incremental gains readied him for the future. He'd keep stacking every advantage possible.
A Tense Discovery
Late afternoon brought a new development: Rowan stumbled upon a patch of dried blood outside the orchard's boundaries, near a cluster of bushes that grew thick with briars. The orchard workers investigated cautiously. They found tufts of dark fur and claw marks in the bark of a nearby tree. It appeared some beast had been wounded or engaged in a violent struggle, then fled.
Kael overheard the conversation while helping Mother gather herbs. His mind raced: Was the beast wounded by the orchard's watchers? Or by something else?
Rowan's eyes brimmed with caution. "I suspect a territorial fight among corrupted creatures. If so, we might face more than one."
Whispers spread among orchard folk, intensifying the atmosphere of unease. Kael clenched his fists, wishing he dared scout beyond the orchard's fences. If only I could verify what lurks out there…
Evening Counsel with Father
That night, Father pulled Kael aside in the barn after supper. A single lantern illuminated Joren's face, lines of worry etched deeper than before. "Son, the orchard folk are nervous about these signs. Meria and I… we're considering sending for a traveling mage or watchers again. But coin is scarce."
Kael nodded somberly. Hiring extra help previously had bankrupted them for little result. "Father, I can do more. My—my small runic items might help if more beasts come."
Joren studied him a moment, recalling the night's fence encounter. "I see. But promise me you won't push too far. You're still a child physically, even if your mind… is something else."
Kael forced a smile. He wanted to reassure Father but also yearned to show that he had the orchard's best interests at heart. "I promise. I'll stay safe, but let me help however I can."
A Quiet Attack
Midnight again. The orchard watchers strolled their routes, torches flickering against a star-strewn sky. Kael, half-dozing in the cottage, suddenly felt a faint pulse of synergy. The Windflare Alarm plate—he sensed it through the minor link established when he created it—had activated. A swirl of air, faint but distinct, nudged at his peripheral awareness.
He bolted upright. Something tripped the alarm!
Scrambling to his feet, Kael crept to the door. This time, Father dozed in the corner—his watch shift finished earlier. Kael carefully slid out, crossing the yard in a hush. Indeed, faint yells rose from the orchard's southern edge. The watchers had noticed something.
Crouching behind a row of barrels, Kael glimpsed the fence. Dark shapes scuttled beyond the orchard boundary. The watchers, shining lanterns, peered nervously. A low growl reverberated, accompanied by a sickly green glow. A corrupted beast—a hunched, wolflike creature with jagged horns—pressed at the fence, testing for weakness.
Rowan stood among the watchers, pitchfork in hand. He shouted, "Stand firm!"
Kael's Calculated Intervention
The beast barked, slamming into the fence. A few boards cracked, but not fully. Then the creature reeled back, as if repelled by an invisible force. Kael realized his Windflare Alarm had triggered a burst of air at the point of contact, startling the monster and preventing a direct breach.
Encouraged, Rowan and the watchers jabbed spears through gaps in the fence. The beast snarled, clawing at the boards, but each attempt to cross that threshold met another sudden swirl from Kael's alarm. Soon, wounded and confused, the creature let out a keening howl and retreated into the darkness.
Cheers erupted among the orchard watchers. Even Rowan, breathing heavily, allowed a triumphant grin. "It's gone!" The orchard's defenders remained on guard, but immediate danger passed.
Kael exhaled relief, heart pounding. My alarm helped. That, plus the watchers, saved us from a direct fight. Carefully, he slipped back toward the cottage, letting them celebrate the small victory.
Dawn's Gratitude
Word spread by sunrise that the orchard's southern fence had once again withstood a corrupted assault. Many credited Rowan's leadership. Yet Rowan himself marveled at how the fence had spontaneously repelled the beast with bursts of wind. "As if a hidden ward was placed there," he muttered.
Father and Mother exchanged glances with Kael, understanding the secret. Father gave Kael a proud nod, but otherwise stayed silent about the alarm's existence. Kael merely helped gather tools for fence repairs, hiding any sign of satisfaction.
Subtle Recognition
That evening, after orchard chores concluded, Rowan approached Kael. "You're a bright kid. Quick with your hands and always around to help. Don't suppose you… know anything about the strange wind we felt last night?"
Kael feigned confusion, offering an innocent shrug. "Maybe a leftover ward from that traveling mage, Altheon?"
Rowan squinted, then smiled faintly. "Could be. Let's hope it stays. We owe it for scaring that beast off."
Kael only nodded, a quiet thrill running through him. He disliked lying, but protecting the orchard overshadowed everything else. If secrets had to remain, so be it.
Glimpses of Future Potential
Reflecting on these events, Kael sensed a growing responsibility. He was bridging the gap between the orchard's humble defenses and the lurking terrors beyond. Even though he was only three, locked out of advanced synergy due to an unawakened core, his cunning runic forging and partial skill breakthroughs were enough to tip crucial moments in the orchard's favor.
He resolved to keep forging more small-scale wards—Windflare Alarm variants, perhaps a mild Heat Ward to repel cold-element beasts, or a Rune Trap for extra deterrence. The orchard deserved every advantage. And when he finally awakened his core, he'd push these runic crafts to new heights.
The Hopeful Tomorrow
Late that night, as Kael drifted toward sleep, he contemplated the orchard's precarious peace. The watchers felt emboldened by their success. Father and Mother, while still cautious, seemed relieved that Kael's mysterious abilities had contributed.
The orchard's respite might be temporary—darker threats likely prowled beyond. But for now, Kael found solace in each incremental triumph. He had soared to Level 5, stashing attribute gains along the way, forging small synergy devices that supplemented the orchard's defenses.
He would keep training, forging runes, and seeking a method to awaken his core. A future loomed where he'd surpass Basic synergy, where his channeling soared beyond the Novice and Basic ranks that caged him. Until that day, the orchard would remain under his subtle vigilance.
In the silent orchard nights, one child's unassuming figure guarded a delicate peace—a prelude to the ascendant fate awaiting him far beyond these humble rows.
Status Window (Updated at Chapter 20's conclusion)
Name: Kael Ashborne
Age: ~3
Talent: SSS (Hidden)
Core Grade: Unawakened
Level: 5
EXP: 360 / 600 (some gains from small beast encounters and daily orchard chores)
Attributes
Strength: 14 (+1 from training this chapter)
Agility: 6
Constitution: 13 (+1 from training this chapter)
Intelligence: 27 (+2 from synergy forging success, +1 more from repeated synergy forging)
Spirit: 33 (+1 from synergy forging)
Free Attribute Points: 0
Trait: Sage's Insight (Passive – fosters advanced comprehension of synergy, runes, and forging)
Synergy ChannelingFire Channeling (Basic, Lv.9) (Locked due to unawakened core)Earth Channeling (Basic, Lv.9) (Locked due to unawakened core)Air Channeling (Basic, Lv.9) (Locked due to unawakened core)Water Channeling (Basic, Lv.9) (Locked due to unawakened core)Light Channeling (Basic, Lv.9) (Locked due to unawakened core)SkillsClay Shield (Basic, Lv.3)Ember Dart (Basic, Lv.3)Mist Veil (Basic, Lv.3)Sunflare Needle (Basic, Lv.3)(Misc. synergy utilities also stuck at Basic Lv.3)
Newly Unlocked Minor Skill
Windflare Alarm (Basic, Lv.1) – A utility runic plate that triggers a gust of air upon detecting hostile mana. Limited range but effective for close perimeter alerts.