Lucian, unaware of Lia's quiet turmoil, simply leaned back against the bedframe, his gaze fixated on the sunlight spilling across his room.
He didn't know what the future would bring, but this time, he wasn't going to let it slip away.
Not Lia.
Not anyone he cared about.
He would protect them all—no matter what.
"I'll go make breakfast."
Lia's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He turned, looking at her who had already reached halfway to the door. Her expression was unreadable, blank, and she was moving a bit too quickly.
"Hm."
He hummed softly and pushed the blanket aside.
His body felt heavier than he'd like, but it was manageable.
By now, it had healed enough for him to move without assistance, though his stamina was still painfully lacking—so much so that even a twenty-minute walk left him panting.
That was the state his body was in.
He took a slow breath.
"Status."
A familiar blue screen shimmered before his eyes.
[STATUS]
Name – Lucian Foster
Race – Human
Titles – [LOCKED]
Bloodline – ??? (Dormant, Sealed)
Affinity – [LOCKED]
Talent – [LOCKED]
Rank – [LOCKED]
[Attributes]
Strength – 1➝2
Agility – 1➝2
Constitution – 1➝2
Intelligence – 7
Will – 1➝3
Perception – 1➝2
Charm – 4➝6
Stamina – 1➝2
Mana – [LOCKED]
Attribute Points (AP) – 2
(The arrow '➝' shows the change since the previous chapter.)
***
Lucian looked at the screen for a moment before dismissing it with a quiet exhale.
"Not much has changed," he murmured under his breath.
He hadn't expected otherwise.
It had only been a little over a week since his regression.
He wasn't expecting to become a bodybuilder in a few days, though that would've been hilarious.
Still, he could feel the difference, however slight; his movements were smoother, his balance steadier, and his thoughts were clearer.
It was progress.
Heading into the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and stood before the mirror.
His reflection stared back at him—familiar, yet subtly altered.
His once-pale complexion now carried a faint tone of colour, and his face seemed sharper, more defined.
His black hair was still slightly messy, falling over his forehead, but his eyes, dark and steady, no longer looked dull or lifeless.
"I look… a bit better than before," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
He brushed his hair back, taking a good look at his face.
'My hair's grown too long.' He thought.
[Have you admired yourself enough?]
Akasha's dry tone echoed in his mind, making the corners of his lips twitch.
"Yes," He replied, chuckling as he turned on the shower.
When he finished, he found Lia already setting the table.
The scent of breakfast filled the small apartment—simple food, but warm.
After having breakfast, Lucian insisted on helping her with the chores.
"You don't have to," Lia said, her tone a mix of firmness and concern.
"I can handle it myself."
"I know," he replied, rinsing a plate before she could stop him.
"But I'm not planning to sit around all day doing nothing."
She frowned for a few seconds before sighing and letting him help.
He worked beside her quietly, washing dishes, hanging clothes, and wiping the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She tried to argue again, but eventually gave up, smiling faintly at his persistence.
When noon came, Lia prepared to leave for her part-time job.
She hesitated at the doorway, adjusting her bag strap, glancing at him as if she wanted to say something—but in the end, she didn't.
"Don't overdo it," she said instead.
"I won't."
She gave a small nod and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Lucian stood there for a few moments; the apartment suddenly felt quieter than before.
Then, rolling his shoulders, he stepped into the hallway.
His body still wasn't at full strength, but that didn't matter. He needed to move, to rebuild. To start over properly.
He began with push-ups.
And failed immediately.
He couldn't even do one properly.
Pushing himself too hard almost ended with him injuring himself, and he stopped before things got worse.
Expecting his body to perform like a normal person's was stupid.
He was weak—painfully so.
Instead of forcing it, he searched through online videos on home workouts and callisthenics.
After a bit of research, he understood his mistake.
Pushing past his limits now wouldn't make him stronger—it would only leave him injured for months.
And this wasn't an anime where the MC starts doing some famous caped bald man's training routine to become extremely strong and break his limits.
He needed a foundation before he jumped to that.
So he switched to assisted variations.
Instead of floor push-ups, he used the table. The incline made it manageable, and for the first time, he was able to complete a set.
His form was terrible at first.
He was someone who hadn't exercised much in his life—not like he could even if he wanted to.
But after rewatching the video, he corrected himself within a few minutes.
Next came squats.
And as said before, he couldn't do those either—not without support.
So he braced himself against furniture and worked through them slowly.
Then came rows.
He used a table for that.
He tried to do a pull-up, but as expected, he couldn't.
It was impossible.
So, he just trained bar hangs for now.
As for the pull-up bar? He didn't have one.
But there was a sturdy ledge in the apartment. It wasn't ideal—harder to grip—but it worked.
He didn't have a gym, and he wasn't about to waste money on one.
Not when they were broke.
The hallway would do.
After a few small sets, he dropped into a chair, breathing hard.
For anyone else, this would've been a warm-up.
But for Lucian, it was hell.
"I'm really weak, huh." He muttered.
There was no frustration in his voice. No self-loathing.
Just determination, a resolve to get better.
His greatest fear—his paralysis—was gone.
That no longer held him back.
Now, all he had to do was push himself to the point where these exercises wouldn't even make him sweat.
After half an hour passed, his breathing steadied.
So he went out on a walk.
How could he forget cardio?
His stamina was low, and cardio would help him increase it.
For now, it was just walking—no running.
He would probably faint if he ran for even a minute.
Before leaving, he'd gotten Lia's reluctant permission—though not without her warning him not to go too far.
He'd promised, though they both knew he'd test the limit eventually.
For now, though, he kept it simple—one step at a time.
Every push, every breath, every bead of sweat brought him closer to what he needed to be.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
And for Lucian, that was enough.