Leon sat in his chambers, staring at the floating screen in front of him. The soft glow of the Aetherial System illuminated his face, casting eerie shadows across the room’s ornate walls.
Class Unlocked: Arcane Marksman
Abilities: Gun Manifestation, Magic Bullet Creation
His fingers twitched in anticipation. Guns. He could barely contain his excitement. In his past life, firearms were his bread and butter—tools of precision and death. But in this world, they were unheard of. Swords, magic, and traditional combat reigned supreme, making his newly acquired class an anomaly in every sense.
A flick of his hand and the translucent screen vanished. His eyes trailed to the polished mirror across the room, studying his reflection. The boy who had once been Leon Eryndor was gone, replaced by a man with far sharper instincts and a cold determination.
"This world doesn’t know what’s coming," he muttered under his breath, stretching his fingers. "Let’s see what this class can really do."
Taking a deep breath, Leon focused inward, tapping into the strange energy that coursed through his new body. His fingers itched, a familiar sensation settling into his palms. He concentrated.
Gun Manifestation.
In a flash of blue light, a sleek, silver pistol materialized in his hand. It was unlike anything he had wielded before—arcane symbols etched along the barrel, pulsing with latent energy. The weight felt perfect, familiar yet...different.
Leon turned it over in his hands, inspecting the craftsmanship. No moving parts, no magazine, and yet—he could feel the power thrumming inside. His instincts told him it wasn’t just an ordinary firearm.
"Let’s test this out."
Raising the pistol, he aimed at a distant vase across the room. The moment he squeezed the trigger, a small hum vibrated through his arm.
Bang!
A glowing bullet shot forth, striking the vase and shattering it into pieces. The recoil was lighter than expected, but the raw power behind it was undeniable.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Leon smirked. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
He flexed his hand, causing the gun to dissipate into wisps of energy. This class had potential—serious potential. But he needed more information.
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The door swung open without warning, and in strode a tall figure clad in military regalia. Duke Eryndor, his father. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept across the room before landing on Leon.
"So," the Duke said, his tone devoid of warmth. "I heard you managed to beat Victor Varen."
Leon stood, smoothing his shirt. "Surprised?"
His father’s brow twitched. "Mildly. You’ve spent your life as a disappointment, yet today, you show some backbone."
Leon fought the urge to roll his eyes. The former Leon had lived under the crushing weight of this man’s expectations, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake.
"People change," Leon replied with a shrug. "Maybe I finally got tired of losing."
The Duke studied him for a moment longer before turning away. "Good. I expect you to maintain this newfound...competence. The Eryndor family cannot afford weakness."
Leon smirked behind his father’s back. If only you knew the things I’m capable of.
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Later that day, Leon strolled through the estate’s training grounds, his hands tucked casually behind his back. The other nobles whispered as he passed, their gazes filled with curiosity and suspicion.
"Is that really him?"
"I heard he destroyed Victor in a single move!"
"He’s never been this confident before..."
Leon ignored them. They were nothing more than background noise. His eyes were focused on one thing—opportunity.
A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Eryndor!"
Turning, Leon found himself face-to-face with Victor Varen, his once smug rival now seething with barely restrained fury. A dark bruise decorated his side, evidence of their earlier encounter.
"You got lucky," Victor spat, his jaw clenched. "Next time, you won’t stand a chance."
Leon smiled coolly, tilting his head. "Next time? Do you enjoy getting humiliated?"
Victor’s face flushed red with rage, but before he could respond, another voice cut in.
"Enough, both of you."
A young woman with fiery red hair approached, her emerald eyes sharp and assessing. Dressed in fine dueling attire, she radiated an air of authority.
Leon recognized her instantly—Celica Drayton, one of the most talented duelists among the younger nobility.
"You were impressive today, Leon," Celica said, folding her arms. "But one lucky win doesn’t make you a warrior."
Leon chuckled. "Lucky? You wound me, Lady Drayton. But if you'd like to see just how 'lucky' I am, feel free to challenge me."
Celica narrowed her eyes, but there was an unmistakable glint of interest behind them. "Perhaps I will."
Leon watched as she turned and walked away, a smirk playing at his lips.
Interesting. She might be worth keeping an eye on.
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Back in his quarters, Leon reclined in his chair, the system screen floating before him.
New Quest: Survive the Noble Tournament.
Objective: Win at least three matches.
Reward: Unlock new ability - Arcane Bulletstorm.
Penalty: Public humiliation and loss of status.
Leon’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Looks like things are about to get a lot more fun."