Rylan opened his Status Window.

Status Window

Name: Rylan Flameheart

Level: 17

Race: Human (F)

Class: Mage

Profession: none.

Trait: Weak-willed

Stats

Strength: 23

Agility: 26

Endurance: 29

Body: 24

Intelligence: 39

Wisdom: 31

Free Points: 16

Active Skills

Magic Missile (F), Stormcaller Sword Style (S), Mountainpeak Swordsmanship (A), Second Imperial Swordsmanship (B), Falling Snow Steps (A).

Passive Skills

Mana Core (First Circle), Sword Handling (E).

Hybrid Skills

Sword Mastery (Master).

Titles

Novice Mage; Wastrel; Good-for-Nothing; Reincarnator, Swordmaster, Novice Monster Slayer, Hard-working.

He frowned as he looked at his Trait.

Still unchanged.

How deeply rooted was this Trait? At the same time, he knew that Traits were difficult to change, given how long it had taken for Roland’s Trait to go from Prodigy to Complete Prodigy, as well as the conversations Roland had had about the subject. It had only been a bit over a month since he remembered his past life.

So long as I keep putting the effort in, it will change. At least I got the Hard-Working Title.

The Title was different from the Hard-working Trait, but its effects were still noticeable. He focused on it. Another translucent rectangle appeared in front of him.

[Title

Hard-working: you are capable of pushing yourself to your limits for your objectives. More important than even talent is the willingness to keep trying and striving.

Effects: +5 Endurance. Faster stamina recovery speed. Marginally increases the effectiveness of physical training the longer it goes on.]

He nodded to himself. The effects were good. His Trait hindered his ability to train for a long time, but Roland’s steeled discipline had been able to deal with it until now. When he got rid of the Weak-willed Trait, this Title’s effects would become more obvious. He dismissed the System window.

Six Points into Strength, five Points into Body, five points into Agility.

His stats shimmered before being replaced by the updated values. He felt his muscles shift inside his body, heating up. They grew as Rylan’s proportions changed. The heat spread throughout his entire body. He knew he was now capable of greater explosive movement.

As he knew from Roland’s memories, Strength, Agility, and Body were connected. Greater muscle strength translated into speed and speed added weight to his attacks, while his constitution served as the base for everything. That was why he always increased the three stats together.

Endurance was the easiest stat to raise through normal training, so he hadn’t increased it. So far, he had been able to fight normally without getting too tired too quickly. The battle against the trolls had made him realize that his attack power needed to become greater; he had struggled to pierce the monsters’ hides, being forced to focus on weak points, which was why he increased Strength a bit more.

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Because the increase wasn’t as significant as the first time he spent his Free Points, he still knew what he was capable of even though his stats had risen. He flexed his hand, moving his arm, getting a feel for his strength.

Lastly, he looked at his Skills.

I haven’t used Magic Missile at all.

He had preferred to spend all his mana empowering his body and swordsmanship, but now that he had Leveled up a bit more and expanded his mana pool, he took a proper look at the Skill.

[Active Skill

Magic Missile (F): the most basic offensive spell and a Mage’s best friend. As one grows in power, Magic Missile develops accordingly.

Gathers one’s mana into a projectile, firing it towards a target. Higher proficiency, Intelligence, and Level result in greater effects.]

I guess spells are also classified as Skills, just like sword styles.

He rubbed his chin as he walked. Magic Missile was the sole long-ranged attack he had access to in his current state. Even if its power was lacking, it could be used to create an opening or opportunity; if aimed at places like the eyes, it could also be capable of damage. It would complement his fighting style. However, because he didn’t possess much mana, he needed to make every cast count.

I can’t silent cast or dual cast like Father.

Rylan’s past self hadn’t cared about magic at all. He had reached the First Circle at a young age, then promptly discarded all training to focus on drugs and women. It meant that he was nearly a complete novice, incapable of even moving while casting. His lack of skill hindered the spell’s usage; if he needed to stop in place and chant every time he wanted to cast it, there would be no way to use his swordsmanship.

The priority is to be capable of large movements while casting.

So long as he could do that, he could handle a long casting time and the need to chant. It was absolutely necessary to be able to dodge an incoming attack while casting. It was the bare minimum to make the spell usable in a real fight, considering that he was a melee combatant who fought alone for the time being.

I’ll need to train.

There was no end to his journey of improvement. It was nostalgic, in a way; Roland had dedicated almost a century to becoming the greatest he could be, which was why this feeling was so familiar. It wasn’t unpleasant, as he understood the necessity of becoming powerful in a dangerous world. The difference was that this power was no longer only for himself. He looked at the new Passive Skill that had appeared in his Status Window.

Sword Handling leads to several useful Passive Skills.

Now that he had raised his Level a bit, it would be good to focus on acquiring the most useful Passive Skills that he knew of. The only problem was that the process took a long time, especially without the Prodigy Trait. It was unlikely that he would get more than one or two Passive Skills before needing to handle Evenon once and for all. Still, it was better than nothing. He knew the best training methods for each Skill from Roland’s memories.

Nodding to himself, Rylan continued to lead the group back to Cantavega. Once they arrived at the east entrance, he scanned the crowd, going over the merchants entering the city and the adventurer groups leaving it. His gaze zeroed in on a figure standing in the shade of the gateway, leaning on the wall. It was the messenger. He turned to the soldiers.

“Go on ahead to the estate. There’s something I need to do.”

The soldiers traded glances, before bowing. Jack spoke.

“Thank you for the experience today, my lord. Please, stay safe.”

His tone was strange, as if there was much he wanted to say but had held back. Even Scott, who always spoke his mind, appeared to be hesitating. None of the other soldiers said anything.

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

The soldiers walked off in the direction of the Flameheart estate. Sarah stayed behind, looking at him. He shook his head.

“Go on back. I’ll join you shortly. I need to talk to Evenon first.”

After looking at him for a few seconds, she bowed, then started following the soldiers.

Rylan watched them for a few seconds before approaching the messenger, who had turned to look at him and stopped leaning against the wall. The man stepped into the sunlight, repeatedly glancing at Rylan’s wounds.

“Master Rylan. Are you ready now?”

The man had carefully controlled his tone, but there was still an edge of frustration. Rylan responded as his past self would have, tilting his head with a deadpan expression.

“Are you hurrying me?”

The man blinked repeatedly. Then, he bowed.

“Of course not, Master. I’m here in your service.”

“Lead me to Evenon.”

He sounded bored and uncaring, as if there was nothing in the world capable of making his expression even change. The messenger flinched.

“Of course. Please follow me.”

The messenger turned and walked as if he were running away. Rylan followed him leisurely. They entered the shopping district; his gaze was attracted by a roadside tavern. He momentarily wondered if he should get a bottle of alcohol and drink some of it to better fool Evenon, as he had the last time he met the man.

My mana circulation has improved, and so has my Body stat.

It meant that he could quickly get rid of the drunkenness. Now that he had returned from a quest, his past self wouldn’t have had any reason to avoid drinking. A decision was reached. Without saying anything, he walked up to the tavern and entered, being immediately met with raucous laughter and loud conversations. The smell of meat and alcohol flooded the room as the hot air reached him. A few people looked at him and stopped talking, but many obviously hadn’t noticed his presence yet. He walked up to the counter and spoke.

“A bottle.”

With a smile that did not reach his eyes, the barman snagged a top shelf whiskey and gave it to him. He merely grabbed it and turned towards the door, looking at the messenger, who had also entered the bar. With an awkward expression, the messenger bowed as Rylan approached.

“I noticed you had stopped following me, but didn’t know why. I understand now.”

Rylan remained silent and uncorked the whiskey with his teeth before spitting out cork and took a swig. The messenger watched him drink. He let some of the alcohol spill onto his clothes and chest. Burning pain spread throughout him as the liquid touched his injuries. In a way, he was repeating what he had done the last time before he met Evenon. Then, he looked at the messenger with dead eyes.

“Let’s go.”

The man nodded repeatedly. Rylan followed him, soon arriving in front of a large wooden building at the heart of the shopping district.

Without hesitation, he followed the messenger inside.