As Gaspard and the other guild leaders entered the room, they found Lucas deep in concentration, struggling to break through the mist that shrouded his skill. His brows furrowed with effort, but despite his determination, he staggered when he finally opened his eyes.
Gaspard, a towering figure with an imposing presence, shook his head in disbelief and remarked, "I have never seen an S-rank with such a weak constitution as you." He then turned to Alejandro, the calm and collected A-rank healer, his voice laced with disapproval. "Is there something wrong with his body?"
Alejandro, a man with slick black hair combed neatly backward, had soft eyes that always sparkled with kindness. He maintained a perpetual smile, even in serious situations. He shook his head and said, "No, nothing is wrong with his body."
As he took out a transparent tablet to review Lucas's information, his expression shifted to one of concern. "Aside from the low mana count in his body, there's nothing else alarming. However, the count is troubling—it's only 1/30 of the lowest mana count ever recorded for an S-rank."
Celine's expression shifted noticeably upon hearing this news; she couldn't help but shake her head in disappointment. How was it possible for an S-rank to have a mana count comparable to that of an F or D rank? If there weren't countless eyewitnesses who had witnessed the boy's blinding golden aura, she would never have believed he was an S-rank.
As this information sunk in, a wave of despair washed over Lucas. Alejandro, maybe because of his Merciful Cleansing skill, was unusually soft-hearted and disliked seeing anyone unhappy. While Gaspard and Celine viewed Lucas solely as a potential S-rank, they overlooked the fact that he was still just a 12-year-old child.
Seeing the boy's distress, Alejandro felt compelled to uplift his spirits. "It's possible that his mana count will increase later. We need to remember that he is only 12; until now, the earliest a person had awakened was at 14. Perhaps he awakened prematurely and just needs time to develop."
This perspective offered some hope to Gaspard and Celine, softening their earlier skepticism. Alejandro continued, "Don't forget the case of Sword Demon. He was only a D-rank when he awakened, yet he managed to claw his way up to A-rank." With a gentle ruffle of Lucas's hair, he added, "Hard work never betrays a person. You have an S-rank skill. If someone with a D-rank can achieve that, so can you."
The rank of a hunter wasn't the final verdict on their potential. Many had climbed the ranks by developing their skills. However, the initial rank of a skill generally determines a person's potential. For every success story like that of the Sword Demon, there were hundreds who could only manage to rise half a rank. Advancing in rank was torturously hard work, and most people had given up long before they could progress from low D-rank to high D-rank. The sheer difficulty of rank advancement posed a challenge that few could overcome.
People like The Sword Demon were outliers, people who cared for nothing but their skills. Since the time of first awakening, several individuals have managed to rise to the ranks of S-rank by training.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
...
A month later, after thorough examinations, it was determined that Lucas possessed only the magic and physical abilities of a low F-rank hunter. Essentially, he was at the lowest tier. While his strength was still five times greater than that of the best athletes in history, the clan leaders viewed him as a dud—a blank shot. This became his nickname, a constant reminder of his perceived failure.
Despair returned to Lucas's life like an unwelcome shadow. Why did he always have to suffer? Why was he never given a break? He had achieved the status of an S-rank hunter, only to awaken what many considered a useless skill.
Everywhere he went, people whispered about him, their glances filled with pity or satisfaction, as if they enjoyed looking down on him. The weight of their judgment pressed heavily on his shoulders, leaving him to wonder if he would ever find his place in a world that seemed to reject him.
...
*TWO YEARS LATER*
Lucas felt the weight of expectations—or rather, the absence of them—pressing down on him as he navigated the halls of the Esperanza Guild. The whispers, sideways glances, and smirks screamed the same message: he didn't belong here. Unlike the other talented members, he was an outlier, a curiosity brought in on a whim by Alejandro Medina, the A-rank healer and guild leader.
Despite this, Lucas refused to let their disdain break him. If anything, it fueled his determination. He dedicated every waking hour to honing his abilities and pushing himself to the limits. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shatter the mental barriers blocking his progress.
Meditation—the technique Alejandro had taught him to harness his power—only seemed to make things worse. The deeper he delved into the foggy recesses of his mind, the more elusive the answers became. Each time he pushed too far, the consequences grew more severe, leaving him to wonder if he would ever unlock his skill.
The last time had been the worst. Lucas dove deeper into the mist, determined to unlock its secrets. When he finally woke up, two weeks had passed, and Alejandro stood over him, concern etched on his face.
"Lucas, you need to stop," Alejandro said, his voice unusually stern. "This power, whatever it is, isn't something you can force. If you keep pushing like this, it might kill you."
But Lucas couldn't stop. He didn't know how. The skill—*Second Life*—was the only thing that set him apart, the only hint of potential he had. But what did it truly mean? Was it literal?
Did it signify a second chance at life, a revival if he died? Or was it something else entirely, something he couldn't yet grasp? The uncertainty gnawed at him day and night, a relentless reminder he was a useless S-rank.
Experimenting with *Second Life* felt reckless, almost suicidal. What if he exhausted its potential and had nothing left? Or worse, what if it wasn't a revival skill at all, and he ended up dead due to a miscalculation? He had no one to ask for help or guidance. Alejandro had tried to assist him, but he didn't even understand the nature of Lucas's ability.
...
Lucas stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was gaunt from sleepless nights and relentless training, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to his struggles. His raven-black hair looked dull, and his sky-blue eyes lost their luster. He had to figure this out—not just for himself but to prove to the guild and everyone else that he wasn't merely a charity case or a toy for Alejandro's curiosity. He was determined to uncover the truth behind his potential and claim his place among the ranks of true hunters.
There had to be a way to unlock his potential without destroying himself in the process. Lucas couldn't continue living in fear of his own power or second-guessing every decision. Now, at 14 years old, he was legally allowed to go gate diving. Perhaps what he needed was battle experience to test his limits and discover what he was truly capable of.