Chapter 2 - The Bronze King
Purple eyes widened as a brilliant light panel floated in midair before him.
Three gray, card-shaped images stood out in the center, each branded with a golden hourglass beneath it. Next to the hourglass, a number was displayed: [Quantity of Essence: 3]
The background was a blank expanse of white, like a world shrouded in mist—ethereal, fantastical, and mysterious.
"The cake maker is here!"
Aemon nearly screamed in excitement. He stretched out his small hand, poking the edge of the glowing panel.
Weren't good days ahead?
As soon as his fingers touched the panel, ripples spread across its surface, distorting the scene until everything dissolved into light. A new screen appeared before him.
[Aemon Targaryen]
Talent: Dreamer (Gold)
Skills: High Valyrian (Proficient), Common Tongue (Proficient)
Magic Cards: None
Status: A severely sleep-deprived human cub, affecting physical development.
"Hey, are there any changes?"
Aemon examined the [Status] column closely.
Looking down at himself, he saw his pale little arms—plump and soft—not the signs of a malnourished child. Yet, something still felt off.
Frowning, he measured his height with his hands.
It did seem like he was falling behind.
He was nine years old, technically still eight, and just over a meter tall—too short for his age. Other children, especially those in the Vale who carried the blood of the First Men, towered over him by a full head.
"So it's not that they grow too fast… I'm just growing too slowly?"
Aemon mulled it over.
No wonder. It made sense—he was only half First Men.
His gaze returned to the shimmering panel, but there was no further reaction.
It seemed to be a standalone system.
No name appeared, so he decided to call it the [Magic Essence Panel] from now on.
"How does it work? I don't want to grow up looking like a tiny potato."
Aemon tapped the [Status] bar with his finger.
Nothing happened.
He sighed. Ignoring the unresponsive [Status] bar, he shifted his focus elsewhere.
Exploring the Magic Essence Panel
After about half an hour of experimenting, Aemon had a clear understanding of how the panel worked.
The front side was the Redemption Page, where he could view [Magic Essence] and [Redemption Cards].
The back side was a Personal Panel that displayed his real-time status—his gains and losses, all visible at a glance.
Now that he understood the system, Aemon held the black dragon egg in one hand and tapped on the Redemption Page with the other.
"I need to fix my sleep first," he muttered.
Hatching the dragon egg could wait. His immediate priority was solving his exhaustion.
With a soft boop, three rays of light flashed, revealing three gray cards, which flipped over one by one.
[Guidance] (A small opportunity) - The card depicted a golden hand pointing in a direction on a white background.
[One-Handed Sword Mastery] (A skill favored by all brave knights) - The green-background card showed a rust-covered longsword.
[Solid as a Rock] (Your skin hardens like stone) - A blue-background card featuring a small gray-white figure in a powerful stance, with "+1" and "+1" numbers floating above it.
Clearly, the cards were categorized by rarity:
White (Common): [10 Essence]
Green (Uncommon): [60 Essence]
Blue (Rare)]: [150 Essence]
Aemon's eyes sparkled at the options—but when he glanced at his own [Magic Essence: 3], his enthusiasm dimmed.
Silently, he pulled back his eager little hands.
"Don't worry. If I don't have enough essence, I'll just find more."
He wasn't about to give up. A plan was already forming in his mind.
Gathering Magic Essence
From what he had learned, the Magic Essence Panel could absorb a portion of magic power from enchanted objects and store it in the golden hourglass, converting it into Magic Essence.
He closed the panel and examined the dragon egg in his hands.
The system's earlier notification confirmed that he had gained +3 Magic Essence just by holding it.
After all, dragons were top-tier magical creatures, and a dragon egg filled with life force naturally contained magic power.
"Fortunately, it won't damage the young dragon."
He carefully placed the dragon egg back in its incubation vessel and patted his chest in relief.
The panel absorbed only excess magic power, meaning it wouldn't drain the egg's vitality. Instead, the egg would gradually accumulate magic again.
The same principle applied to other magical items.
"Alright, growing taller and sleeping well starts with finding magic."
Determined, Aemon slipped out of the room quietly.
Searching for Magic in the Royce Tomb
Avoiding the maids preparing lunch and the noisy retainers in the courtyard, Aemon moved cautiously.
The Royce family of Runestone was among the most powerful noble houses in the Vale. They controlled vast fertile lands and commanded a formidable army.
The castle's outer courtyard was always bustling with lesser family members and vassals, training to bolster the castle's defenses.
Aemon didn't want to draw attention. Keeping a low profile, he slipped through the crowd and into a quieter part of the castle grounds.
At the back of the courtyard, he opened a wooden entrance and ducked into the Royce family's tomb.
It was called a tomb, but in reality, it was more of a storage area for ancient relics.
The chamber was pitch black. Dust-coated bronze artifacts and forgotten heirlooms lined the corners.
"Where, where is it…?"
Holding up an oil lamp, Aemon began his search.
Brushing aside cobwebs, he made his way deeper. The stone floor beneath his feet contrasted starkly with the dust-laden surroundings.
This was his secret hideout.
A child without friends needed a place to retreat to, and the ancestral tomb was perfect—quiet and undisturbed.
Was he afraid? Not really. If he ever did encounter a ghost, it would be one of his long-departed ancestors.
And who didn't have a few relatives in the afterlife?
With a grunt, Aemon pulled a heavy, rusted bronze armor from a pile of old relics.
Wiping sweat from his forehead, he smiled in satisfaction.
The Royce family had an ancient history, once ruling as Bronze Kings in the Vale. Their domain included the Runestone plains, the towering Moon Mountains, and lands stretching to the eastern coast.
Two thousand years ago, they had been kings.
But when the Andals invaded Westeros, their reign ended. The Arryns of the Eyrie took control, and the Royce family became powerful bannermen rather than rulers.
Even so, their traditions remained strong. The Royces revered the old Bronze Culture and adorned their armor with ancient runes, believing them to offer protection.
Of course, in battle, the runes had little effect—many warriors still perished.
But for Aemon? These relics were a goldmine.
Grinning, he crouched down and blew dust off the engravings. The glowing script shimmered faintly beneath the grime.
As soon as his small hand touched the armor, a system notification rang in his ears:
"Touched a broken magic item. Magic Essence +5."
"Wow," Aemon whispered in delight.
It worked.
His heart pounded with excitement.
The Royces, descended from the First Men, had left behind many magical artifacts—and now, they were his to harvest.
Holding back a triumphant laugh, Aemon tightened his grip on the bronze armor.
He had just found his first true treasure trove.
Little Aemon, reporting for duty!