Lucas stood frozen when the blue notifications faded. He was still dizzy when Heinrich’s cold, commanding voice forced him back to reality.

  “Lower your sword, Lucas!”

  The words whispered into his mind by the translator crystal carried no threat, yet Heinrich’s real voice, the one Lucas still heard with his own ears, was tense enough to cut through the fog of regret, fear, and confusion clouding him. Only then did he notice how tightly his fingers were still wrapped around the sword hilt.

  As control slowly returned to his body, the churn in his stomach rose again when his eyes fell on the dozens of weapons aimed straight at him.

  Lucas stiffened, the cold breath of death brushing the back of his neck.

  “WAIT!” he shouted and dropped the sword.

  He meant to raise his hands to show he had no intention of harming anyone else, but the moment the blade struck the ground, one of the soldiers lunged forward and drove the back of his sword into Lucas’s abdomen.

  Lucas bent forward instinctively, trying to soften the blow. The attack still hit hard enough to send sparks across his vision. Even so, he remained on his feet.

  That’s it? It didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, he thought, lifting his eyes toward the soldier to counter whatever might come next.

  The soldier saw Lucas looking at him and it seemed to agitate him more. He lifted the hilt again, aiming for Lucas’s head now that he was bent forward.

  But he never got to strike.

  “Stop!” Heinrich ordered from the side. His voice held far more warning than someone in Lucas’s position should have warranted. “Bring him to my tent. And… give him a lesser potion from my reserves.”

  The soldiers froze. They exchanged uneasy glances with one another and then with Heinrich. After a brief moment, two of them stepped away from the rest, pulled Lucas to his feet, and guided him back toward the camp.

  <<<>>>

  Lucas sat in the same tent where he had met Heinrich earlier. This time, only one guard stood with him while he waited for Heinrich to arrive.

  He pressed the floor with his heels, then looked at the small vial in his hand. The bottle was smaller than half his fist, a thin glass container marked with a green ink symbol shaped like a leaf.

  How is this possible? In just seconds, this strange liquid that tastes like sour grape juice healed not only my feet but even exhaustion… he thought, eyes narrowed.

  He glanced at the guard, who hadn’t taken his eyes off him the entire time. Lucas’s look was wary, as if he was trying to decide whether the man in front of him was truly human.

  At first, I thought I’d been taken somewhere undeveloped, some region that still lived primitively. But that glowing crystal, and now this vial… Following the thought, another image surfaced in his mind, something else he had seen that defied any reasonable explanation.

  The dragon… dragons exist in this world, and so does magic.

  A part of him still hesitated to accept it, even after seeing everything with his own eyes. It felt insane to believe in things he had only known as stories. Then he remembered the blue windows that had appeared when he killed that prisoner. At the time, he had dismissed them as nothing more than a product of his imagination. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  What was written on them?

  He strained to recall it. That moment had blurred together in a mix of adrenaline, fear, and shock. Even though only an hour might have passed, it already felt like a distant past.

  He closed his eyes and began drawing the imagined image in the air with his finger. He always did this when working on commissions. It was how he recalled what a customer wanted him to carve.

  The moment Lucas’s hand moved, the guard flinched and instantly adjusted his stance, his right hand drifting toward the hilt of his sheathed blade. He stayed like that for a while, watching carefully, only relaxing when he confirmed Lucas wasn’t doing anything dangerous.

  Then the man frowned and said something.

  Lucas stopped tracing in the air and opened his eyes. Without the translator crystal he couldn’t understand a word, but he wasn’t going to ignore the man. It felt far too dangerous.

  “I don’t understand you,” he said, waiting for the guard to gesture or react. Instead, he was met with another frown.

  I think the window said that I had increased my experience, he thought, choosing not to respond further. It’s like a game… wait, does that mean I’m in a game world?

  He dismissed the thought just as quickly as it came.

  No. There’s no way this is a game world. Everything is far too real.

  He shivered as the memory of the pain in his chest returned, the echo of the dragon’s growl still vivid. He took a deep breath and shifted his focus elsewhere.

  If I gained experience, then there should be levels too. But how do I check…

  Before the thought could fully form, a blue window flashed in front of him.

  Mental Traits

  Magical Traits

  AP Available: 1.8

  SP Available: 0

  The appearance of the blue window startled Lucas. He jolted slightly in his chair, then quickly recovered and brushed at his clothes, trying to appear natural. He glanced at the guard from the corner of his eye, checking whether the man could see the blue window hovering in front of him.

  He can’t see it, Lucas thought as he confirmed the guard showed no reaction at all.

  He refocused on the blue window, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Oh, I’m pretty close to level 8. Sadly, I have no Class or Rank. What is this Deity thing, and there’s also Race…

  He pulled his gaze away from the window for a moment, forcing himself to slow down and process what he had already read.

  If there’s a Race category, then Humans aren’t the only race here. That’s not surprising, considering there are dragons. But what worries me is the Deity category.

  His eyes returned to the window and moved down to the attributes. He wasn’t surprised to see Endurance listed as his highest physical trait. As someone who had spent long hours carving, sometimes more than twelve at a time, it was only natural. The same work had hardened his willpower, and the window reflected that clearly.

  So these stats aren’t random, his brows furrowed, and a faint, regretful smile crossed his face when his gaze reached the Magical Traits section. After learning that magic existed in this world, a part of him had hoped he might be able to use it. But seeing the numbers made him abandon that thought immediately.

  Those 1.8 attribute points… can I increase my mana stat with them?

  The moment the thought formed, the sound of soft wind chimes rang out, followed by another blue notification appearing beside the status window.

  [Magical Traits are not eligible for Attribute Point allocation. Increase Magical Traits via training, Magical Essences, elixirs, or enhancement methods.]

  Well, it couldn’t have been that easy, he laughed, a little louder than he intended.

  The guard, who had been watching the shifts in Lucas’s expression the entire time, narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but the grin on Lucas's face made him reconsider.

  I got carried away… Lucas sighed and refocused on the status window, this time keeping his face steady. Until I figure out whether this game-like window is something normal in this world, I should hide it. And also, I should probably save attribute points just in case.

  His gaze moved down to the skills section next. Two of them made immediate sense. He knew he was good at carving. That had been one of the main reasons he had chosen that path in the first place. And while his archery wasn’t anything to boast about, he at least had some experience with a bow, unlike any other weapon.

  But what are these two skills?

  As soon as the thought formed, two new blue windows appeared side by side, each one explaining a skill.

  [Soul Reaper (Beginner) - Upon killing a living creature, its soul is harvested and converted into nourishment for the body. Current Limit: 100 XP.]

  [Poison Resistance (Beginner) - Grants minimal resistance to mind-numbing substances.]

  All the excitement and enthusiasm Lucas had felt vanished the moment he finished reading the description of Soul Reaper.

  I destroyed his soul… The thought surfaced on its own, followed immediately by the memory of the prisoner’s desperate screams. The sensation returned as well, the resistance he had felt as the blade cut through flesh, the tremble in his hands as he struck.

  Only now did he understand how perfectly he had been shaped into a weapon for someone else’s war. With a skill like this, his power would grow quickly.

  But at what cost?

  Killing wasn’t enough. Now I’m destroying souls as well…

  He read the description again, slower this time, until something caught his attention. A small spark of hope lit in his eyes.

  At least it doesn’t say I have to kill humans. Maybe beasts and monsters will do. His thoughts drifted. If dragons exist in this world, then there must be other creatures as well. I need to find a way to grow stronger, quickly. Strong enough that no one can force me to do something like today again. And then… I’ll find a way home and leave this damned place behind.

  Lucas was walking a thin line between despair and regret. His thoughts were tangled and unstable, held together only by the constant pressure of immediate danger and short-term goals.

  Focusing on what was directly in front of him was the only thing keeping him from breaking.

  The sound of the tent entrance dragged him out of those thoughts. Heinrich entered loudly, the fabric curtains flapping behind him.

  “Lucas!” he called, grinning. He added something else, but Lucas only stared back at him, confused. Heinrich paused, then clicked his tongue as he realized the problem.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystal, activating it.

  “You need to learn our language, and quickly,” he said.

  Lucas opened his mouth, but Heinrich continued before he could speak.

  “And no, you can’t borrow the detector. Even if you did, it wouldn’t help unless you can infuse mana into it. These crystals need mages to work and in this camp, only I can use magic.”

  Heinrich straightened before sitting down. He lifted his chin, not shying to show just how proud he was of his talent.

  “I will learn the language,” Lucas responded with a forced smile. “But I’m not sure I can do it as quickly as you ask.”

  “You must,” Heinrich insisted. “The two weeks I thought you had are gone. You have three days until you depart for Stonehill.”

  “What? Why?” Lucas asked helplessly. He had the uneasy sense that he was being punished for using the sword to save the prisoner from slow and painful death.

  “Oh, you don’t know yet,” Heinrich said, slamming his palm against the table with a grin. He shot a glance at the guard, who looked just as confused as Lucas. “One of the spies you came with cracked after what you did to that poor bastard.”

  Heinrich burst into loud laughter, leaning back in his chair as if savoring the moment.

  Lucas quickly realized the joke itself wasn’t what amused him.

  The information must have been valuable, he thought. He’s expecting a reward.

  “Can you believe it?” Heinrich continued, laughing even harder. “Our interrogator couldn’t break the man, but you did.”

  Lucas forced a smile again. Angering Heinrich was the last thing he wanted. He held that expression until the camp’s only mage finally began to calm down.

  “Lucas, perhaps I should offer you the interrogator’s position,” Heinrich said, clearly unwilling to let the topic drop. “You seem to have a talent for it.”

  “Thank you,” Lucas replied quickly. “But I think I’ll be more useful serving Grand Prince Charles.”

  Heinrich’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he smirked and cast a sideways glance at the guard, who was listening closely.

  “Commendable dedication,” Heinrich declared. “Normally, I would reward you for what you’ve accomplished. But since you grabbed a sword without permission and broke the rules, I’ll deduct it from you instead.”

  Did he just pause to force gratitude out of me? Lucas wondered, stunned that someone could be so shameless.

  “Thank you,” he said anyway, giving a small bow.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t thank me,” Heinrich waved it off. “It’s I who should be grateful. You’ve helped our great Central Empire and Grand Prince Charles. If only the law didn’t forbid me from rewarding a criminal…”

  Yeah, right, Lucas thought, nodding along as if he agreed with every word.

  “Now, I wanted to teach you how to wield a sword and a bow so you wouldn’t bring shame to my name,” Heinrich said. “But teaching you either in three days is impossible, so instead…”

  He paused, clasping his hands together. He considered something in silence, his expression tightening before he sighed.

  “I’ll give you two more potions and teach you a method that will improve your endurance and fortitude in a very short time.”

  Lucas caught the hesitation in Heinrich’s voice. More than that, his attention was drawn to the guard’s reaction. The man was openly hostile now, nostrils flaring as he stared at Lucas.

  The potions must be rare, Lucas realized.

  “This method works only once,” Heinrich continued, “and we want to maximize its effect. You’ll start tomorrow morning. I’ll send one of the soldiers to assist you.”

  He pulled a parchment from the drawer and scanned it carefully.

  “Yes…” Heinrich shook his head. “There is no other way. Your attributes are too low. Without raising your endurance and fortitude, you won’t make it to Stonehill.”

  Lucas stiffened. He had assumed the blue window was something only he could see.

  “My attributes?” Lucas asked cautiously.

  “The green crystal outside,” Heinrich explained. “It can detect everyone’s attributes below Gold Rank. But its primary function is to break disguises, so other races or infiltrators can’t slip into the camp.”

  So that’s how it is, Lucas thought.

  Then he remembered his Soul Reaper skill, and cold sweat broke out across his body.

  “May I know what my attributes are?” he asked.

  “You can’t read them,” Heinrich replied flatly. His mood had clearly soured after promising Lucas the two potions. But then he still added, “Most of your Physical and Mental attributes are slightly above or equal to five, which is average for humans. Your willpower is the highest. It’s eight.”

  “Thank you,” Lucas said, nodding. He made sure not to show his surprise.

  My willpower is eight? he thought. Does my blue window measure attributes differently from the green crystal?

  He would have liked to compare each value, but there was no way to do so. Even if Heinrich handed him the parchment, Lucas wouldn’t be able to read it.

  “I have a request,” Lucas said, his expression brightening slightly as an idea formed. “If it’s possible, I’d like to help in the kitchen during these three days. Specifically with butchering animals.”

  “Explain.” Heinrich’s eyes narrowed.

  “Today…” Lucas paused and sighed instinctively. “Today I realized I’m afraid of blood. I can’t become a soldier unless I overcome that. That’s why I’m asking. By butchering animals, I hope to get used to the feeling of cutting into flesh.”

  It was the best justification he could come up with on such short notice. In truth, Lucas wanted to see whether killing animals would grant him experience.

  Heinrich leaned back in his chair and studied him in silence.

  “You’ll report to the butchery before sunrise,” Heinrich said at last. “Our cook starts earlier than anyone else.”

  He stood and waved Lucas off.

  “Now go. Rest. Night is short in this place, so sleep while you can. After helping the cook, you’ll train until you collapse.”

  Lucas nodded and turned to leave. He had almost stepped through the exit when Heinrich’s cold voice stopped him.

  “Lucas, in the Central Empire we don’t tolerate criminals. Break the law again, and I’ll be forced to act.”