.
.
The white void of his dreamscape greeted him, vast and silent, with only one thing at its center: his sleeping twin, slouched upon his throne.
Ashen walked toward him, footsteps echoing faintly in the nothing.
He dropped down beside the throne with a heavy, casual sigh like he was just some overworked guy sitting beside an old drinking buddy.
"Still not your day to wake up, huh?" he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Lazy bastard."
There was no discernible physical difference between the two of them. The sleeping figure wasn't "someone else." It was him. His other half. His real self.
Ashen leaned back on his hands, staring up at the empty sky.
"Got rid of that prick Chris today," he said, scratching at his temple. "And now I get why you didn't even blink at the guy. Dude didn't even realize he was screwed until the knife was at his neck."
He chuckled quietly to himself.
"Still... you should've seen his face when Seraphine went stabby-stabby on him. That was something."
He paused, letting the silence linger between them.
This wasn't the first time he'd treated his twin like a journal. What started as a joke became ritual. Therapy disguised as madness.
And it helped. That's what mattered.
"Now that he's out of the picture, I guess I'm outta excuses, huh?"
No reply, of course.
Ashen sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He raised his hand, and with a flicker of will, his spear appeared, cool and solid in his grasp.
"I've been whining long enough. Even you—I—believed in me at some point. Can't keep sulking just because of one damn setback."
He slid into a stance.
But this time, he didn't jump into a flurry of swings. No beasts. No wild explosions of mana. No frustrated yelling into the void.
Just silence.
And a single thrust.
Because now, he wasn't training to vent.
He was training to refocus.
All this time, he'd thought his problem was distraction in battle; how his attention scattered and left him vulnerable in the heat of a fight. But now, a different realization crept in.
That Perpetually Distracted trait was more than that.
Maybe the problem wasn't the monsters.
Maybe it was him doing too much, all at once.
Circulating mana.
Maintaining the ManaForge breathing rhythm.
Fighting multiple beasts.
Layering in advanced spear techniques instead of mastering the basics.
He wasn't the same as before. The Brilliant part of "Brilliant Ashen" was long gone.
And yet, he'd expected himself to handle it all without breaking.
That wasn't skill.
That was arrogance.
He let the mana circulating in his body settle.
His precise, trained breathing shifted into something more human.
He raised the spear again.
And thrust it forward.
No slashes nor spins. Not even those elegant deflections.
Just a thrust.
He adjusted his stance and did it again. And again.
Each time, he felt a little more of himself return to center.
A spear's most powerful move wasn't flashy.
It was simple.
And in simplicity, there was strength.
He would master this.
He didn't need to be a jack-of-all-tricks. Not anymore.
If he could drive one technique into his bones, make it instinct—just one—maybe he'd have a foundation again… A path, so to speak.
And this... this was his choice.
No more distractions.
He didn't know if it was right, but he'd find out.
.
.
.
Hours passed. He lost count of the repetitions.
Eventually, he summoned a beast.
Just one.
A hyena.
A weak, low-rank thing that skulked around him, eyes glowing with hungry malice.
He didn't overthink it. Didn't conjure backup plans.
Just one motion.
The spear snapped forward, faster than the creature could even register.
Straight between the eyes.
It dropped before its snarl could fully form.
Ashen kept alternating; more thrusts in the air, more beasts summoned for live testing.
His body began to memorize the movement.
His instincts, at last, began to quiet.
Then, as reality tugged at the edge of his awareness, the System stirred.
A faint chime echoed in the distance.
[Spear Thrust^ – (Basic-)]
He didn't celebrate… but his grip on the spear tightened just slightly.
❖⛧❖
The next day passed without a hitch.
Ashen kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting those armored guards to storm in and drag him away for murder.
He could already picture himself locked in a cell at the academy prison, stuck between the psychopaths and the twitchy insomniacs.
Every time that image crossed his mind, a chill crawled down his spine.
But nothing happened.
There were no knocks at the door, nor a stern summons. And no whispers in the hallways about his disappearance.
Well, aside from Braun's reaction when Ashen casually mentioned that Chris wouldn't be coming back.
The look on his face had been priceless.
And then… nothing.
The following day mirrored the last. No one asked where Chris was. His absence slipped quietly beneath the surface, like a stone tossed in a deep pond.
By the third day, even Chris's little gang started to crumble. No one wanted to associate with a missing loser, especially not in a place where missing people rarely returned.
Ashen found himself relaxing. Not completely, but just enough to stop flinching every time someone tapped him on the shoulder.
He felt almost sorry for the guy.
Almost.
❖⛧❖
Days turned into weeks.
Ashen's weekly missions went off without a hitch. The team even started taking on extra tasks to rack up points.
They learned how to center mana in their hearts through Wiseman's concentration method, the one he'd promised them.
But Ashen didn't linger on that too long.
He poured nearly all of his time and effort into the spear thrust. Over and over again, drill after drill. Until it felt less like technique and more like breathing.
And then, almost unnoticed, something shifted.
One week before their stay in the Tutorial City ended…
==============================
Steadfast
Once ruled by fleeting whims, now moves with quiet persistence. No sudden revelation; just the gradual weight of daily effort. Distractions still whispered, but routines spoke louder.
Unremarkable to others, but from within stirred something new: The will to continue. Not brilliance. Just the simple, earned strength to see things through.
==============================
The Perpetually Distracted trait evolved.
Ashen stared quietly at the change in his status.
Even more surprising was what followed:
[5. Cognitive Depth (Thoughts, Mindset, Disposition)] Serene / Persevering / Determined
He blinked once.
He thought he'd be happier when this change occurred, but… There was not even a grin.. No fist-pump of triumph…
Just a simple, almost meditative sense of... of course.
His old disposition, Defeatist Escapist, felt like a distant echo now.
This wasn't the system giving him a pat on the back or some cosmic handout. No, this was just the mirror catching up to the reflection.
It wasn't a gift. It was recognition.
What he was.
What he'd keep being.
Ashen exhaled through his nose and closed the interface.
And then, he kept going.
❖⛧❖