"We should head to the Spell Weaving class," Sam said, gathering his things. "Professor Thane hates when people are late."
"Actually," Adom said, rubbing his temple, "I think that duel with Damus affected me more than I thought. I'm going to skip today, get some rest."
Sam's face immediately shifted to concern. "Where are you hurt? Should we go back to the infirmary? Did they miss something? I knew that punch looked too strong-"
"It's okay, Sam." Adom cut him off. "I just need to lie down for a bit." He paused, then added, trying to sound casual, "Actually, could you take me to our dorm first?"
"Our dorm?" Sam's brow furrowed. "Is it that bad? You can't even remember- I can stay if you need-"
"Sam," Adom said firmly. "I'm fine. Just a headache. But yes, everything's a bit... fuzzy right now."
Sam nodded, and they made their way through Xerkes' winding corridors. The academy hadn't changed much in sixty years - or wouldn't change much, depending on how you looked at it. Still, Adom was grateful for the guidance as Sam led them up three flights of stairs, down a corridor lined with enchanted paintings, and finally to a door marked "214."
Their shared room was exactly what you'd expect from two teenage boys studying magic - scrolls scattered across desks, crystal formations growing in the window, and what appeared to be a failed attempt at an automated clothing-folding spell still sparking weakly in the corner. Sam's side was meticulously organized chaos, while Adom's... well, he'd have to figure out which side was his.
Normally, Xerkes assigned three students to each dorm room - a tradition dating back to the founding fathers of the academy. But either through administrative oversight or luck, Adom and Sam had ended up without a third roommate.
The extra space had quickly been converted into an impromptu potion-making station, complete with a small ventilation charm that Sam had rigged up after their third failed attempt at brewing Clarity Extract had filled the room with purple smoke.
"We should probably put some order in here soon," Adom said, surveying the room.
Sam let out a surprised laugh. "You? The guy who thrives in chaos?"
I'm not that guy anymore, Adom thought, memories of his meticulously organized office at the Council floating through his mind. Sixty years of fastidious record-keeping had a way of changing habits.
"Thanks for showing me back," he said, starting to head toward one of the beds.
"The one on the left is yours," Sam called out, making Adom correct his course.
"Thanks again."
Sam sighed, hovering by the door. "I'll bring some snacks and ice cream when classes end." He adjusted his bag. "Stay safe, man."
"I will."
"Bye then," Sam said, lingering for a moment longer before finally heading out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Adom exhaled deeply as he lay on his bed, staring at the familiar-yet-strange ceiling. Just this morning - was it even this morning? - he'd woken up in his bunker, bones aching, joints creaking with the weight of his 79 years.
The last twenty-four hours felt surreal - from his final moments on that beach to his conversation with that mysterious woman, and now... here. Back in his twelve-year-old body. Back when the world still made sense. When his biggest worries were exam scores and whether he'd embarrass himself in front of Mia Storm.
Back when his parents were still alive...
His chest tightened at the thought. They were alive right now. Not just alive - they were probably going about their daily routines, completely unaware that their son had just lived an entire lifetime without them. He wanted, more than anything, to see them. But from this place...
He should write them a letter soon then.
The lack of long-distance communication crystals in this era meant that correspondence was still largely done the old way. The current crystals could barely manage conversations across a city block, nothing like the continent-spanning network that would revolutionize communication in a few years. For now, his parents were just a letter away - achingly close, yet frustratingly distant.
Adom's exhaled as his thoughts drifted to all the possibilities this opportunity at a second chance gave him.
Maybe this time he could actually see those places he'd only dreamed about. He could wander through elven cities, explore the depths of dwarven strongholds...
At this point in time, getting a travel permit to any non-human territory would be nearly impossible. The elves especially were notorious for turning away human visitors - something about "preserving cultural purity," though everyone knew it was more about the lingering tensions from the perpetual conflicts.
The dwarves were slightly more welcoming, if only because they enjoyed trading their metalwork. Still, they rarely allowed humans past their surface markets. The deeper halls of their cities remained a mystery to most.
An adventurer's license would help - it was one of the few documents respected across all territories. He'd seen a few lucky guild members brandish those badges like keys to the world. But getting one meant proving yourself capable of handling whatever dangers lay beyond city walls and dungeons. No small feat for a twelve-year-old, even one with sixty years of memories.
He smiled, picturing himself at some small tavern in a far-off port, trying dishes he couldn't pronounce, trading stories with travelers from across the sea. Or maybe camping under strange stars, sharing a meal with new friends around a campfire. Simple pleasures he'd never gotten to experience in his previous life.
Then, when he got tired of all the traveling, he could find a quiet place somewhere, eventually. A little home where he could grow his own herbs and vegetables, invite friends over for dinner, watch the seasons change...
"Ah, damn it."
Adom's smile faded as reality crashed back. These sorts of thoughts in his situation were should not be welcome. All those dreams meant nothing if he didn't prevent what was coming. That's what the deal had really been about, hadn't it? Not a gift, but a responsibility wrapped in the illusion of choice.
The magnitude of what lay ahead of him was almost overwhelming. He had decades now - decades to prevent the catastrophes he knew were coming. The Valanya Breach. The Fall of Sundar. The Great Collapse. The World Dungeon. Among others. So many others.
All the horrors that would transform the world into the wasteland he'd just left. And he had to do it all starting as a 12-year-old boy who still had to stand on tiptoe to reach the higher shelves in the library.
I guess it could have been worse... He thought as he imagined himself coming back as an infant. Still, that would have left him time to enjoy the little things of life too.
...Okay, maybe this was worse after all.
Anyway!
Adom sat up.
Before he could even begin to tackle that monumental task, there was something else he needed to understand. That blue thing - that strange, shimmering presence he kept seeing he kept seeing today.
It appeared every time he worked with mana now, something he'd never noticed in his first life. Whatever it was, it definitely hadn't been there before.
As if responding to his thoughts, the blue shimmer coalesced in front of him, transforming into a translucent window of information:
[Name: Adom Sylla]
[Level 1]
[Race: Human]
[Life Force: 100/100]
[Class: Mage (Runicologist*)]
[Mana Pool: 387/400]
[Unique Skills] (1/10)
[Identify] Lvl 1 (Very Rare)
[Merged Skills] (0/10)
[Active Skills] (0/10)
[Passive Skills] (0/10)
[Inventory: 0/5]
[Stats]
[Expand to see more...]
[Physical Condition: Very Weak]
Suggestion: Physical training required. Current body requires conditioning to handle advanced magical output.
"Whoa..." The moment he saw it, an instinctual understanding flooded his mind. The System - that's what this was.
But how did it work exactly?
He reached for his notebook and quill on the bedside table. "Let's test this inventory thing," he muttered, tapping the [Inventory] section. Five empty slots appeared before him, shimmering with a faint blue light.
Cautiously, he held out the notebook toward the first slot. The item seemed to dissolve into motes of light before vanishing completely. He did the same with the quill in the second slot.
"Interesting... It's like a dimensional storage bag, but with fixed slots instead of space limitations."
As if responding to his musing, text appeared below the inventory display:
[Maximum item dimensions per slot: 2m x 2m x 2m]
[Maximum item weight per slot: 100kg]
"Oh, so you're interactive," Adom said, raising an eyebrow. He retrieved the notebook and quill with a simple thought, watching them materialize in his hands. "Convenient."
Then he put them back in.
His eyes drifted to another section: [Special Skills]. Unlike the empty active and passive skill slots, this one contained a single entry: [Identify].
"What's this about?" he wondered aloud.
[Identify Level 1: Reveals basic information about objects, creatures, and phenomena. Can detect monster levels. Current range: 10 meters]
"Level... like, how strong they are?"
[Correct. Combat potential is calculated and displayed as a numerical value. Higher numbers indicate greater threat levels.]
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"Just monster levels?" Adom asked, thinking about all the potential applications.
[Correct. Level detection is limited to monsters and hostile entities. Other targets will display relevant information based on skill level]
He tested it on his notebook:
[Notebook]
Class (Quality): D (Poor)
Durability: 72%
Notes: Contains various spell diagrams and half-finished homework assignments. Several pages have ink stains.
"Huh." Adom flipped through the notebook, confirming the accuracy of the description. "That could be useful." He turned his gaze to the shimmering window itself:
[System Interface]
Type: Unique
Status: Bonded
Notes: A manifestation of the agreement. Further features will unlock as conditions are met.
Well, that was deliberately vague.
The agreement...
Adom frowned at a thought. "Hey, why does my body react in ways I don't... intend to? Like earlier, with Mia, I..." He felt his cheeks heat up. "I got nervous just because she smiled at me. Or even earlier, when that those kids tried to intimidate me - my body just froze for a second when they called me. These aren't my reactions. Well, they are, but... they're not the reactions I should have with my future memories, right?"
[Your understanding is incomplete. You are not two separate entities - one past, one future - sharing a body. When you regressed, your future consciousness merged completely with your past self. You are both versions simultaneously.]
"I don't understand. "
[There is no "future self" or "past self" anymore - they are now one and the same person. Think of it like this: You didn't replace or kill your future self, nor did you simply add memories to your past self. Instead, both versions merged completely to create who you are now. You have all the experiences, memories, and wisdom of your future life, and all the physical responses, emotional patterns, and fresh perspectives of your younger self. Neither version died - they became a new, complete whole.]
[It's similar to how you don't say your five-year-old self "died" when you became ten. You simply grew and integrated new experiences. In this case, instead of linear growth, you've merged two points of your timeline into one consciousness.]
Adom leaned back, processing this. "So I'm... both? Or rather, I'm just me, with everything from both times?"
[Correct. You are Adom Sylla, with twelve years of lived experience and seventy-nine years of memories, all integrated into who you are now. Your future experiences weren't erased or killed - they're part of your current consciousness, just as much as your present experiences are.]
"That's... actually kind of reassuring." Adom smiled slightly. He wasn't carrying around a dead future version of himself. He was just... him. All of him.
Then he glanced at his stats again. "Wait a minute... why am I level 1? I mean, even in this body, I have decades of magical knowledge."
[Level primarily represents current combat effectiveness against baseline monsters. Knowledge alone does not translate to physical capability. Current form requires significant improvement to handle higher-tier encounters.]
"Okay, but why do I need to 'handle encounters' at all? Why have levels?"
[Levels serve as psychological motivation. Humans naturally seek improvement when presented with measurable progress markers.]
Adom snorted. "So you're basically trying to trick me into training?"
[Not trick. Encourage. System cannot grant power directly. Can only reflect growth achieved through personal effort. Think of it as a mirror showing potential.]
"And what's the point of that?"
[Your mission requires significant capability improvement. Current form is inadequate for challenges ahead. System provides framework for growth tracking and incentivizes development through unlockable features.]
"Like more inventory slots?" Adom asked, thinking of how useful even these five slots already were.
[Correct. Inventory expansion, enhanced identification range, additional interface features unlock with demonstrated growth. System does not provide power - you must earn it. System merely measures and rewards.]
"Sooo... you're just a fancy way to track progress."
[...Correct.]
His eyes moved down the window, noting the detailed stat breakdown:
[Physical Stats]
Strength: 6
Agility: 8
Stamina: 5
Dexterity: 7
[Mental Stats]
Intelligence: 142
Wisdom: 138
Focus: 91
Memory: 145
[Basic Abilities]
Reading: Advanced
Writing: Advanced
Mathematics: Intermediate
Physical Education: Poor
And dozens more...
"Hold on," Adom said, frowning at the empty skill slots. "Why don't I have any skills? I mean, I know how to do plenty of things. And what exactly counts as a skill anyway?"
[Skills are complex action sets that combine multiple stats and basic abilities. Example: Cooking skill requires:
* Knowledge of ingredients and techniques
* Manual dexterity for cutting and preparation
* Understanding of heat and timing
* Memory for recipes
* Focus for consistent execution
When these components are mastered through repeated practice and understanding, System registers them as unified skill.]
"So just knowing how to do something isn't enough?"
[Correct. Knowledge without practical mastery does not constitute skill. Current form has knowledge but lacks physical conditioning and muscle memory. Previous life's physical skills must be relearned.]
"Another question." Adom raised his hand, and a [Flame] spell. A small fire flickered to life above his palm. "Spell weaving is definitely a complex skill. Why can I do this?"
[Class: Mage (Runicologist) provides baseline magical capabilities. Class skills are inherent, not counted in skill slots. Soul-based abilities persist across physical changes.]
"So because I'm classified as a mage, I automatically have the basic skills that define what a mage is?"
[Correct. Class designation reflects core identity and fundamental capabilities. Magical knowledge and control are soul-anchored traits, preserved despite physical reset. Additional magical specializations beyond class baseline would require skill slots.]
Adom's eyes lingered on his class designation. "What's this little star next to 'Runicologist' for?"
[Indicates current primary specialization path. Progress: Level 300/1000
Available Mage Paths:
Runicologist (Current: 300)
* Healer (Locked)
* Divination (Locked)
* Battle Mage (Locked)
* Elementalist (Locked)
* Alchemist (Locked)
* Druidism (Locked)
Complete mastery (Level 1000) of all paths enables class evolution: [True Archmage]]
Three hundred? The number stung a bit. For someone who'd been praised as brilliant in runic studies, that felt... low.
Then there was the system's mention of 'True Archmage'...
Among humans, that title had never been more than an honorary position. The current Archmage, Sir Gaius, while undoubtedly powerful, was simply an exceptional battle mage who'd been chosen to oversee the Magisterium—a towering bastion of arcane authority responsible for governing and safeguarding all matters pertaining to mages and magic within the Empire of Sundar.
His role was more administrative than anything: protecting and directing the Empire's mages.
And because humans needed the position to be filled, if only to avoid the embarrassment of being mocked for having none, someone like Sir Gaius had been the natural choice.
The elves, now they had a genuine True Archmage. Adom had never seen them personally, but tales spoke of their mastery over all seven paths of magic. The dwarves too had boasted one, until their passing two centuries ago. But humans? The task seemed beyond their reach.
Even with magic extending their natural lifespan - assuming they weren't cut down early - human mages typically lived to around 150 years. Lady Verana had set the record at 202, and even she had only fully mastered two paths. The time required to truly master all aspects of magic, to reach the pinnacle of each specialization... it simply exceeded what even the longest-lived humans could achieve.
So human mages faced an impossible choice - either spread themselves thin attempting to learn everything, becoming mediocre at all, or focus on one path while barely scratching the surface of the others. Even those rare few who managed to master two paths had dedicated their entire lives to the pursuit.
A thought nagged at Adom's mind as he considered his situation. In this new life, he'd most definitely need to fight, so combat skills would be essential. Since he was already accomplished in runes, he'd need to become a battle mage this time around.
At Xerkes, the path-choosing ceremony was a pivotal moment in every student's third year. After experiencing the basics of all seven magical disciplines in their first two years, students would gather in the Celestial Pavilion during the spring equinox. There, before the Academy's masters and their peers, they would declare their chosen path. It was more a tradition, really.
In his previous life, Adom had stood proudly before the maesters and chosen the path of runes. He remembered how natural that choice had felt, how right. But next spring, when his turn came again, he'd have to make a different choice.
A different choice...
Crossing his legs, Adom focused on his mana core, that well of energy nestled deep within. The mana pathways throughout his body were still developing - they would continue to do so until he turned twenty-one. Like a second circulatory system, they carried mana instead of blood. He could feel the potential there, raw and untapped.
It was fascinating how knights used the same energy so differently. While mages like himself could manipulate raw mana directly, knights compressed it into what they called 'Fluid,' transforming it into pure physical enhancement. Battle mages were unique in that they learned both arts - pure mana manipulation and Fluid transformation.
"I wonder..." Adom murmured, trying to recall those basic lessons from his father. Perhaps he could get a head start on the path.
He closed his eyes, recalling his father's patient instructions from years ago. His old man had spent countless hours trying to teach his academically-inclined son how to transform mana into Fluid. The knowledge was still there, buried in his memories - the theory, the process, the visualization.
"Feel it," his father would say, "let your emotions guide the transformation."
A droplet of sweat rolled down Adom's temple as he concentrated on his mana core. The energy was there, swirling, ready to be used. But Fluid required something more than just technical understanding. It needed emotion - raw, powerful, overwhelming emotion.
He'd always found that requirement ridiculous. The idea that feelings could catalyze a physical transformation of energy seemed absurd to his analytical mind. Yet history proved otherwise. Every knight, every battle mage who'd ever manifested Fluid had done so through the power of their emotions. Rage, exhilaration, love, despair - any emotion would do, as long as it burned hot enough.
The problem was quantifying that "hot enough." How much emotion was sufficient? How did one measure the intensity of a feeling?
Adom focused on his current emotional state. Joy bubbled within him at his second chance at life. Anxiety churned in his stomach about the challenges ahead. Hope burned bright when he thought about changing his fate. He tried to amplify these feelings, to let them fill his entire being.
The mana in his core responded, stirring faster, flowing through his pathways with increased speed. But despite his concentration, despite the sweat now dripping down his face, the crucial transformation remained elusive. His mana stayed as it was - raw, untransformed energy.
With a frustrated sigh, he opened his eyes. Perhaps he needed something stronger than hope and anxiety to trigger his first transformation.
A small window expanded as Adom kept pondering:
[Alert]
[Life Force Status: Currently stable]
[Warning: Potential development of Lifedrain Syndrome detected]
[First symptoms estimated to manifest within 2-3 months without intervention]
Adom's breath caught in his throat. Lifedrain Syndrome. The magical degradation that had slowly eaten away at his body for decades. It wasn't until he was in his fifties, after years of research and desperate searches for a cure, that he'd discovered the cruel truth - his body had been prone to it from birth.
His perpetually skinny frame, which no amount of food could ever change, every unexplained exhaustion, every failed attempt to build stamina during his childhood - they hadn't been normal weakness. They were early symptoms no one knew to look for.
He remembered the concerned looks from the school healers during his second year at Xerkes, He was exactly his current body's age when the first visible symptoms had appeared in his previous life. The way they'd dismissed the occasional tremors and mana fluctuations as puberty-related magical instability.
As if responding to his mounting dread, a new window materialized:
[Quest Alert]
[The Race Against Time]
Find a cure for Lifedrain Syndrome before visible symptoms manifest
Time Limit: 2 months, 21 days, 14 hours, 48 minutes
Reward: Life
Failure: Death
Accept? Y/N
Without hesitation, Adom mentally selected 'Y'. He'd spent years watching this disease ravage his body. He wasn't going to let it happen again.
[Quest Accepted]