Dining with prodigies

Lucien walked down the marble corridor, guided by memory fragments that weren't entirely his. The halls of the royal palace were vast, adorned with towering stained-glass windows and golden crests of House Graycliff. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine lingered in the air, and servants bowed respectfully as he passed.

It was strange. Just a moment ago, he was Paul—a failed intern, invisible to the world. Now, he was Prince Lucien Graycliff, the fourth child of the most powerful monarch in the Kingdom of Elreim.

His pace slowed as he reached the grand dining hall. The tall oak doors were already open, and warm candlelight spilled out into the hallway. Inside, the royal family was seated at a long polished table, feasting on a banquet that looked like it came out of a fantasy artbook.

Roast wyvern. Stuffed truffle boar. Butter-glazed carrots. Even the bread sparkled with enchantments to stay fresh.

Lucien hesitated a moment before stepping in.

Heads turned.

A pause swept over the table as the family noticed his presence.

The dull-eyed, sickly prince—usually silent, slouched, and barely able to speak—walked in upright, alert, and… smiling?

"Lucien?"

A soft voice called.

His mother, Queen Elizabeth, looked at him with wide, pale green eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, with long silver hair and elegant robes of white and sapphire. Her voice, though gentle, always carried strength beneath it.

"You're awake. Are you… alright? You've been asleep for days."

Lucien nodded calmly.

"I'm fine now, Mother. I've recovered to some extent."

He took a seat near the end of the table, where he usually sat in isolation. A few servants quickly poured him water and placed dishes before him.

At the far end, King Otto Graycliff, the monarch himself, continued cutting into his meat with a focused expression. His beard was sharp and trimmed, his crown simple but dignified. He was watching Lucien, not with anger… but curiosity.

Still, the king said nothing.

Next to him sat Lucien's siblings.

The firstborn: Ran Graycliff, the kingdom's pride—a swordmaster at only twenty-five. Rumors said he defeated a veteran war general at sixteen. Ran watched him silently, his sharp amber eyes unreadable.

Next to him sat the second child, Anri Graycliff. The Holy Mage. Her radiant white robes shimmered slightly with divine runes. She was only twenty-three but had already regrown a knight's severed leg during a battlefield emergency. A prodigy in healing magic, and a graduate of Pristine Academy.

Then there was Aldric Graycliff, the third sibling. A twenty-two year old beast tamer whose summoned wyvern once crash-landed into a noble's tea party. He was laughing then, and he was grinning now—relaxed and easy-going compared to the others. At nineteen, he was known for being unpredictable, but powerful.

And finally, seated closest to Lucien, was his younger sister Iris Graycliff—the youngest of the royal children, just a year younger than Lucien himself. Despite being only sixteen, she had already become a genius of Pristine Academy as a top-tier holy mage, just like Anri. Her golden hair was tied back in a braid, and her soft eyes blinked at him, surprised.

None of them had tried to hurt him. But none of them had really acknowledged him either. He was always… just there. The extra.

Now, every one of them was looking at him.

Lucien chuckled inwardly.

'Guess collapsing for a few days is what it takes to get attention around here.'

He picked up his fork and started eating. The food was absurdly delicious—spiced wyvern tenderloin with enchanted gravy that tingled faintly on the tongue. He tried to act normal, even though half his brain was still marveling at the fact that magic seasoning was real.

Ding!

The system is pleased to see the host enjoying dinner. Would you like a motivational quote?

Lucien nearly choked on his drink.

'System, you're doing a bit much.'

"Sure. Hit me."

[System Motivation #021]:

Even the weakest seed can grow into the strongest tree—with the right stats.

Lucien snorted under his breath.

He looked around the table again. These people—his family—were geniuses. Born with overwhelming talents. Magic, swords, summoning—every single one of them had walked the path of greatness already.

And him? The sickly background character.

Lucien exhaled. He didn't feel bitter. Not anymore. He felt… hungry.

Not for food, but for something more.

He wanted to prove he could stand among them. No—above them, even.

The rest of the dinner passed quietly. Occasionally someone glanced his way, clearly curious about his strange energy, but no one said much.

He had met everyone now.

Once back in his room, Lucien collapsed onto his bed, rubbing his full stomach.

Ding!

Host has successfully re-integrated with the family dynamic. Now initializing future planning module...

Please select your desired path of development:

Magic

Beast Taming

Political Strategy

Support / Healing

[✔] Swordsmanship

Lucien didn't even hesitate.

"Swordsmanship." 

The blue text updated instantly.

Confirmed. Host has selected Swordsmanship as main growth path. Initializing Sword PathAffinity Check...

Analyzing... 10%... 60%... 99%...

Result: High compatibility. Latent talent detected. Unlocking Sword Core.

Ding!

Congratulations! You have obtained the hidden trait: [Phantom Edge - Rank F]A unique ability that awakens further with mastery.

Lucien's heart skipped.

A trait. Already?

He sat up, energy buzzing through his fingers.

"System, you're really going to help me, huh?"

Affirmative. This is your story now, Lucien Graycliff. Let's make sure the world knows it.

He grinned, lying back against the pillows.

No more being useless. No more dull eyes, slumped posture, or hushed whispers behind his back.

Tomorrow, he would ask for a sword.

And from there, he'd carve his own path through this world.