The Path of Growth

Back on the training court, Bel stood before Sir Aldric once more. The older knight crossed his arms, his sharp gaze sweeping over Bel's with thinly veiled disapproval.

"A knight isn't just about running, boy. Endurance is important, but without the skill to wield a weapon, all that stamina means nothing. You'll just be a corpse that takes longer to die."

He stepped back, drawing his sword in a smooth motion.

"Now, let's talk about real fundamentals. Combat is about technique, precision, and strength." With effortless grace, he demonstrated a basic stance, then a sharp forward thrust. "Every strike, every movement must be controlled. A knight doesn't flail like a drunk in a brawl."

Bel glanced at his system screen out of the corner of his eye and exhaled through his nose.

Well... I'm apparently not even a human, so a knight...

Aldric turned, scrutinizing Bel's posture.

"And you..." He let out a dramatic sigh. "Your frame is too thin, your arms have no definition, and your grip on a weapon is probably weaker than a squire's after three days of training. You look more like a stable boy pretending to be a knight."

Bel barely held back a groan. He was trying to be patient, but Aldric's constant dissing was grating on his nerves. His mind was elsewhere, fixated on the system screen hovering in his vision. There was so much to figure out, and this lecture wasn't helping.

"First things first," Aldric continued. "You need more muscle. You're too light. A strong wind might knock you over." He tapped his chin, pretending to think. "You should start by gaining weight."

Bel's eyes flashed. Finally an opportunity.

"That makes sense!" he said, nodding eagerly. "If I'm not built for fighting yet, I should focus on fixing that first! No point wasting time with drills if I don't have the foundation, right?"

Aldric raised a brow, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm.

"...Right."

Bel doubled down, his tone earnest.

"You're absolutely right, Sir Aldric! I should spend time eating well and strengthening my body before any serious combat training. It would be irresponsible to do otherwise! I can't waste your time when I'm not even improving. You're such a genius!"

Aldric's smirk twitched, caught between pride and suspicion.

"Well, it's good you understand your limitations."

But he wasn't stupid. If the kid was too eager, something was up. Aldric glanced toward the main hall, thinking about his master's expectations. If Bel just wandered around eating all day without making progress, he'd take the blame. That wasn't happening.

"Still," Aldric continued carefully, "I can't just let you slack off entirely. You suggested this, but let's make sure we put it the right way." He rubbed his chin, then nodded. "You're focusing on physical conditioning first. A knight needs a solid foundation. That's what we'll say."

Bel immediately nodded.

"Of course! I'm training and have hard time to catch up, so of course if they ask me, I'm just recovering. And at worst, it's my idea, completely."

Aldric exhaled, pleased that this meant less work for him. He gave him one last look before mounting his horse.

"Don't slack off too much. I'll check in later."

With that, he rode off, leaving Bel standing alone in the training court.

The moment the knight disappeared from view, Bel let out a deep sigh of relief.

With Aldric gone, Bel finally had the chance to do what he had been wanting since waking up in this new life: analyze the system.

His eyes locked onto the floating screen before him, glowing faintly as if waiting for him. Until now, he had been reacting to it in bits and pieces, always distracted by something or someone. But now, alone in the training court, he could focus.

"Alright... What even is this thing?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

His gaze fell on his name first.

Name: Belzerion

He frowned.

"Belzerion? My name's just Bel… right?" That was all he had ever been called.

No last name, no family, nothing beyond working for Harvin, the stable master. Was this his real name? The one he was supposed to have?

Next, his race caught his eye.

Race: Dragon

His stomach twisted. "A dragon? How does that work? What part of me is a dragon?"

He had no wings, no scales, not even claws. He looked like the most human of humans. Malnourished, but still a human. So why was the system calling him a dragon? Then there was his class:

Class: Lesser Wyrmling

"Lesser?" he repeated, rolling the word on his tongue. "So I'm not even a full dragon? Just… a lower class one?"

That wasn't exactly encouraging. He needed answers. Maybe Madame Alverna, the maid who taught lectures, could help. She loved myths and old stories, maybe she knew something about wyrmlings.

He moved on to the next section.

HP, Health. Simple enough. MP, Magic points? He had no idea how to use magic. Strength, as literally as it sounded. He flexed his fingers. Didn't feel particularly strong. Toughness, probably defense or resilience. He patted his arms. Maybe this was why he didn't bruise easily.

Intelligence. Now, that was different. Did it mean raw intellect? Wisdom? He felt sharper than before, but was that real or just his imagination? Speed was self-explanatory, same for Agility. Stamina was the clearest one. That explained why he kept running without dropping.

Then, Pressure. He frowned. Pressure? Strength of presence? Was it something like an aura? Did it make others feel his existence more? Or did it mean something else entirely?

And then, there was the Draconic Core: 1%.

"One percent? Does that mean I'm barely even a dragon? Or is it something I have to increase? Does it change my abilities? My body?" The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. What was even a "core"?

He shifted to his unlocked trait:

- Wyrm's Resilience (Slightly enhanced endurance and recovery.)

This one made sense. It explained why always recovered from the exhaustion during the endurance run. His body bounced back quicker than it should. But was that it? Did dragons have other traits? Did this grow like his stats?

The more he studied the system, the clearer something became.

His stats could increase, and with them, himself.

His stamina and speed had already improved just from running. That meant these numbers could change depending on the training he did.

His pulse quickened. He needed to test this now.

Bel's training continued under the afternoon sun, his mind racing with curiosity. He needed to see if his stats could improve beyond just stamina and speed. If running had increased those, then logically, other exercises should boost his other attributes.

There was only one way to find out.

He started with strength. Dropping to the ground, he attempted push-ups. His arms trembled, unused to the effort, but he powered through, counting in his head.

One, two, three… By the fourth, his arms burned, but within seconds of stopping, his Wyrm's Resilience kicked in, and the pain faded.

Encouraged, he moved on to sit-ups, squats, and eventually, lifting small rocks. He kept increasing the difficulty, pushing himself further each time, barely resting before he tried again.

Every time he reached his limit, his body rebounded faster than expected.

Yet, despite hours of training, there was no visible change on his system screen. No new numbers, no increase in strength or toughness. His excitement wavered. Was he doing something wrong? Did the system require something more extreme?

Determined, he escalated. Instead of lifting small weights, he tried moving sandbags. He carried heavy wooden logs, climbed up ropes, even attempted striking the training dummies with wooden weapons repeatedly until his hands ached.

His breath grew ragged, sweat dripped from his brow, and his vision blurred slightly from overwork. Even with his unnatural recovery, his muscles started feeling the strain.

The knights training in the distance took no notice, but Bel felt his body screaming for a real break. Yet, he wasn't ready to stop. Not yet.

With a deep breath, he threw himself into one final challenge. Taking a heavy training spear, he mimicked the thrusts and slashes he had seen the knights performing earlier.

Over and over, he swung with all his might, each impact jarring his arms, his legs growing weaker beneath him.

Finally, his body refused to move anymore, and he collapsed onto his back, staring at the sky, utterly exhausted.

Just then, voices carried over the yard.

"...preparing for the return of the young masters next week."

Bel barely registered the words before his eyes flicked to the system screen. And then, his breath caught. His heart pounded.

His Strength and Toughness had each increased by 2 points, and Stamina had gone up by 1, and his experience was now 3.

A victorious cry burst from his lips before he could stop himself.

"Yes!"

Immediately, a group of knights nearby turned in alarm.

"Hey! What's all that noise for?" One of them walked toward him, frowning. "This is the training grounds, not a tavern. Keep it down."

Bel sat up quickly, masking his excitement with an apologetic look.

"Sorry! Got a little too into it."

The knight huffed, crossing his arms.

"If you've got energy to waste yelling, you can spend it more productively. Since you seem to enjoy work so much, why don't you clean every knight's boots as punishment?"

Bel internally groaned but nodded, pretending to be regretful.

"Understood."

Later that evening, he knelt in the armory, scrubbing the mud and dust off rows of boots. His hands worked automatically, his mind elsewhere. He was making progress, but he needed to go faster.

Could he increase intelligence by studying? If so, maybe getting the maids to let him read more would help.

He sighed, reaching for the next boot. Just as he picked it up, something moved inside it.

A small spider crawled out, skittering onto the floor.

Startled, Bel instinctively slammed the boot down, crushing it instantly. He shuddered slightly, lifting the boot to inspect the remains. The sight made him pause.

A strange purple liquid oozed from the crushed spider.

Bel frowned. That was… weird. He had seen plenty of spiders during his childhood, had even killed a few, but he had never seen one bleed purple before.

Then, something caught his attention.

His eyes flicked toward his system screen.

[ Draconic Evolution System ]

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Name: Belzerion

Title: None

Race: Dragon

Class: Lesser Wyrmling

Level: 1

EXP: 78/100

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Core Stats:

HP: 50/50

MP: 10/10

Strength: 12

Toughness: 14

Intelligence: 10

Speed: 11

Agility: 11

Stamina: 16

Pressure: 1

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Draconic Core: 1%

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Unlocked Traits:

- Wyrm's Resilience

Slightly enhanced endurance and recovery.

This time , his stats were the same, but the real change was his EXP that had suddenly jumped from 3/100 to 75/100.

His breath hitched.

"What the hell…?"